So Easy to Fault, So Hard to Fix

Hello all,

Well, the news isn't good.

I could pretend the news IS good, of course.  I could tell you about the wacky, hilarious things my students do and say.  Or I could wax poetic about the beauty of Kyoto in the autumn.

But I can't do that.  Because although I am thousands of miles away from all this, it would be irresponsible to pretend that the world is fine just because my immediate world is fine.


On Friday, October 24th, there was yet another school shooting.  This time in Washington, just north of Seattle at a high school.

The victims and the shooter were all teenagers, 14 and 15 year olds.  The same age as Aya.  Not all that much younger than Patrick.

Already the news agencies are dithering about fault.

The shooter was just a bad kid.

It must have been his parent's fault for not 'raising him right'.

It must have been the school's fault for not being more 'vigilant about security'.


And, as always, hot on the heels of the news agencies, talking internet heads and magazine covers (the covers only, because everyone seems willing to spare a glance, but not spare 5 minutes to read), comes public opinion.

Predictably, the comments on the news websites follow the same lines as the news agencies, agreeing, disagreeing, cursing and insulting or just being trolls, making inflammatory comments and then slipping out of the comment stream to watch their mischief boil.

So whose fault is it?

I would suggest this is a pointless question.  Fault can all too easily be assigned and people who are just as good and flawed and confused about all this as the rest of us can be held out as examples of bad teaching or bad parenting or bad kids.

I would suggest that a better question would be how can we fix this?  

Implied in my question is the emphatic WE.   Because if we have to assign fault, this is our fault too.  As a society.  As fellow human beings.  

For something like this to happen, not just once but many times implies that something is broken.

And many things are broken, not just in the United States but everywhere to varying degrees, in various areas and with various heartbreaking results.

Families are broken, shattered apart by distance and the demands of jobs and social expectation.   Sisters and brothers, cousins and grandparents turn away from each other because our society teaches and supports fragmentation and separation rather than tolerance and empathy.

Schools are broken, steering dedicated, enthusiastic teachers into test-driven curricula seemingly laser focused not to produce thoughtful, empathetic, curious and engaged members of society,  but to produce non-confrontational drones  who just want to survive the demands of school or work until they can live their "real lives".   And the schools that have leapt out of this broken mold are too few and far between, and often too inaccessible financially, to kickstart the kind of change we need.

Society is broken when lethal weapons can be accessed by a teenager who saw himself as having no other outlet for his pain but to strike out.



Imbedded in all this are deeper issues and needs--recognizing that pain of all kinds is an unavoidable part of all our lives, re-educating ourselves and our children and teens that seeking help and support is not a weakness, but a strength, breaking down the pervasive and often damaging gender and social expectations that are so prevalent  and powerful in teenage lives.

I've painted a pretty dismal picture.  But we can repaint the picture.

We can fix this.  

Not immediately to be sure.  But the systematic problems can be addressed.  Schools can be overhauled.   Learning can be redefined for the future we are approaching, rather than swirling in a past we left behind long ago.   Leaders, from government officials to school administrators, from teachers to parents, can re-educate themselves so that we can support our children and teens based on their real needs, and not on our prejudices, phobias and assumptions.

We can fix this.  


The skeptics and pessimists among us would see no point in me even writing about this.   As one commenter said "If nothing changed after Sandy Hook, then nothing will ever change."   And the pessimist in me agrees to a point--change never comes quickly.  People, it seems, have to keep getting hit over the head with deeper truths before they acknowledge that something is broken.

But this is no reason to stop trying.  

And so, I  try in the only way I can.  I write.

Until next time....

Rainbow....

White light
is nature's illusionist.

It seems so simple--just light.

But it's not.

Send a sunbeam into a prism
or a water droplet
or perhaps a tear

and it shatters into a hidden spectrum.

A paintbox so cleverly concealed
in our everyday illumination.

If so much convoluted beauty
can hide within the simplicity of light

How many more wonders are invisible
to our everyday eyes?

Bang.

Hello all,

So yesterday I read an article that was making the lightning quick rounds of internet news sites, quipping talking heads and grumpy trolls.  

This article described a teacher in Utah who went into the bathroom and proceeded to injure herself when her legally concealed gun went off, shattering the toilet and subsequently mangling her leg.  

For those of you who don't know, in Utah it is perfectly legal for teachers to carry a concealed gun as long as they have the proper permit and training.  And just so you know I'm not picking on Utah, this gun-carrying-teacher motif is spreading across the U.S., being discussed with serious consideration as a solution to the dangers of our modern society.

As it so happens, I am a teacher.  I've been teaching for over 23 years.  I have never felt the need to carry a weapon.   Even during the times in my career when my school has had to go on "lockdown" status because some loony was in our neighborhood on the run from the law, even then I never said to myself "Gosh, I'd feel better if I had a gun in my waistband."   

But I'm willing to give this whole "guns are protection" thing a think or two.  Starting with the oft-quoted 2nd amendment to the constitution. Which states:

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

I'm not going to pretend I'm anything but a kindergarten teacher.  That is what I am.  I'm not stupid, but I'm not a lawyer, or a politician, or Stephen Hawking or Einstein or anyone with a huge IQ or deep thoughts or special training in Constitutional law. 

I'm a kindergarten teacher.  So first off, I looked up "militia".  A militia, according to various dictionaries, is:

1.  A noun

Fair enough.  "Militia" is a noun.  No argument there.

2. Refers to a body of citizens enrolled for military service, and called out periodically for drill but serving full time only in emergencies.

Okay, as far as I know, unless one is a teacher at the Naval Academy, most teachers do not qualify as engaged in military service.  Next.

3. A body of citizen soldiers as distinguished from professional soldiers.

I'm pretty sure teachers do not qualify as either citizen soldiers or professional soldiers, no matter how much people may refer to teaching as "being in the trenches".  

4.  All able-bodied males considered by law eligible for military service.

This point could be debated if the teacher in question were a male of legal age for military service.  But even then it would be a strange connection to make.  Teaching=military service=yes, gun ok.  

As for me personally,  I may be eligible for military service (although I'm probably low on the list, being 47 years old, 5 foot 2 inches tall and not particularly prone to impressing enemies with my fighting prowess).   But I'm pretty sure I'm not male, able-bodied or not.  

5. A body of citizens organized in a paramilitary group and typically regarding themselves as defenders of individual rights against the presumed interference of the federal government.  

Well here is the crux of it all, right?  How do we define ourselves as citizens of any country?   Does disagreeing with the actions or positions of our government give us the right to carry around weapons?  I'm not talking about hunters hankering for venison here.  I'm not talking about sport shooting.   I'm talking about everyday people working in everyday jobs carrying around concealed--or in open-carry states, unconcealed--weapons.   

Taking it a step back, even if we remove the word "militia" from the 2nd amendment, are guns and other weapons really necessary to the "security of a free state"?  

Do we feel safer knowing  that any time we go out our door--to get groceries, to fill the gas tank in the car, to walk the dog, to pick up our children from school--anyone, everyone around us could have a gun in their purse or in a concealed holster?    

And just how much confidence do we have in our assessment about what makes someone "sane" and "in control"?   Where is the line drawn when any of us rational,"normal" people have one too many bad days, with just a little too much stress?   For the person carrying that gun, the gun becomes one of the many choices and tools that we all have to solve a problem, to meet the challenges of an emergency situation or to simply face another day.  And how does one really judge a situation to merit using that gun, especially--for teachers--in front of children?   

In the end, I'm one kindergarten teacher living thousands of miles away from my home country.   And as I watch the swirl of fear, hate and intolerance grow larger every day, I have to wonder what on earth we will be coming home to, when the time comes for us to leave Japan.   

But whatever we come home to, I do know this:  I cannot teach my students peace, respect, tolerance and friendship if I'm carrying a gun in my pocket.  No matter the intention to protect, that gun would negate and betray every good thing I tried to teach.    


So count this teacher out.   

Until next time....

Can YOU Tell Me How to Get (Back) to Sesame Street?

Hello all,

After another week of world-wide madness

-- shattered cease-fires and the imploding city of Ferguson Missouri,  sensationalized but never-the-less heartbreaking celebrity deaths and people hurting each other in every way all over the planet  just because they can--

I've decided to take a step back from it all and get back to my generation's socio-political roots.

Sesame Street.

Sesame Street first muppetted onto our television sets on November 10, 1969.  I was almost 3 years old.  The quintessential Sesame Street age.

Akin to the well-known adage (and book)  "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten", Sesame Street gave me--and my fellow tots--some simple and absolutely true rules to live by:



1. We are all unique and special.

2. Learning is fun.

3. Absolutely everyone has  feelings and needs to be liked, loved and cared for.

4. Try new things

5. Meet new people

6. Everyone--old and young, near and far, famous and unknown--loves to play.

7. Care.

In my head I can see the early episodes of Sesame Street that first opened my eyes to these rules.   These are the same rules I try to model every day for my kids and my students.  

Unfortunately we live in a world that seems to be operating for the most part according to a set of rules that are exactly opposite to these:

1.  We are all the same and utterly disposable.

2. Learning is a chore to be endured

3. Absolutely everyone is apathetic and alone.

4. Stick to what you know.

5. Cling to those who agree with you.

6. Playing is pointless.

7. Who cares?


This is why at least once or twice a week I go on Youtube and I watch a few  Sesame Street shows.  Of course I watch the well-worn, well-known pieces of shows from my childhood. But I also watch  the new imaginings that Sesame Street is creating--delightful spoofs of pop songs and current movies that leave me humming or chuckling--and quite often both.

I realize I'm not solving anything by watching Sesame Street.  
Nothing is ever solved by watching.
Watching is passive.

But my momentary  investments in passivity keep me mindful of those simple lessons that Sesame Street first taught me 44 years ago.  

And armed with those lessons, I can turn off the computer, go out the door and do my best to teach them anew.

Until next time.

It Just Doesn't Matter

It doesn't matter, you know.

This laser-tipped focus everyone seems to have on what defines each of us.

It doesn't matter that I'm a Democrat  and you're a Republican. 

It doesn't matter that I'm liberal and you're conservative.

It doesn't matter what lifestyle I have or support or what lifestyle you choose to despise or accept. 

It doesn't matter that I drink coffee and you drink tea,

or that I see through scientific eyes

and you see through the eyes of Belief.

It doesn't matter.

And it's not worth making it matter.

It's not worth the energy of

Facebook rants

and blog tirades

and newspaper opinion pieces

that keep stepping over the lines

people draw in the sand.

What matters is that we're all  here.

We're breathing the same air,

drinking the same water that flows through the same cycle from continent to continent.

The water coming out of my Japanese faucet will eventually make it's way into your North American coffee or into that desert oasis or  through that faraway plastic hose.  

The air that you breathe in through your righteous nostrils is the same air that

I exhale through my questionable mouth. 

Long after the cursing and insults and hurt feelings have been hurled back and forth,

we're still family,

still neighbors,

still sharing this country

or this continent

or this planet.

Still stuck together.

So does it really matter what defines us?

We are all fantastically different,

from our eyelashes to our political views, 

each cell of mine distinctly different from each cell of yours.

In the end, all this arguing,

fighting,

bomb-tossing,

gun shooting

gleeful hate wallowing

just

doesn't 

matter.  

Hope Amid the Horror

People are dying in Gaza.

Commercial aircraft are being shot down over Ukraine.

Talking heads on TV and on the Internet are berating us

...for being Gay, Lesbian, Transgender or any other permutation of being human that is other than Straight.

...for being female

...for being from this country or that country

...for having a different skin color, different accent, different beliefs

...for putting this or that into our own bodies

...for being anything other than whatever they subjectively see as "perfect".


Teenagers are committing suicide in one country over faceless virtual bullying,
their attackers hiding behind the dangerous anonymity of one-way phone or computer screen.

People in another country are starving to death, ravaged by disease.

Children and teenagers in yet another country are being handed weapons and told to go fight.

Meanwhile our planet is spinning in a swirl of pollution and waste,  our air and water becoming as toxic to life as our treatment of each other.


 I find myself wondering if this is some sort of end-of-times.  A sort of collective day of reckoning where all our evils are coming together in one giant, pointing finger of accusation.

But I refuse to believe our world has to be this way.

Because alongside all these terrible, numbing evils, there is good in us.  And in that good, is our potential to change.

I don't have to look far to see that good.


I see it in the eyes of my students.

I see it in the periodic generosity of strangers, who stop to help others in need, in pain or in want.

I hear it in the  periodic rants of my daughter,  who this very morning informed me that "In 20 years, this world is going to be a very different place.  Because my generation is going to fix  what your generation broke."   And while I had mixed feelings about evidently being pinpointed as the poster-child for all the world's ills, she had a very valid point.

Don't we always look to the NEXT as a remedy for what is wrong NOW?

Don't we say "I'll do better next time." or "I'll take care of that next week."  or "My partner/associate/colleague/friend will take care of that for you."?

Humans are skilled postponers.  We have a collective motto that is only now being re-examined:

 "Do tomorrow what you could do today."

And this motto has been clung to by world leaders as much as by everyday folks.


I like to think that my generation had it's shining moments as well as it's failures when it comes to caring for this world.

 However I cannot say that we are blameless.   We have fallen, as previous generations have, into the "Do tomorrow what you could do today"  trap.

None of us are innocent.  We all have a carbon footprint that expands every time we pretty much do anything--from turning on a light to putting on our polyester-blend shirt to sipping a cup of coffee.

And as we turn on our lights, wear our polyester-blend shirts and sip our coffee, we look to our future full of maybes...

maybe there will be solar power everywhere

maybe we will turn our considerable resources towards feeding, healing and caring for everyone equally, instead of dividing the world into hard lines of "haves" and "have nots".

maybe we will stop killing each other

maybe we will stop selfishly holding ourselves up as the moral standard by which everyone must live.



Maybe.


You and I might not be able to stop the horrors that are splayed across news headlines and screamed, amid pounding theme music, from TV and Internet talking heads.

But we can decrease the small horrors that we encounter--and maybe even cause--every day.

Buy a hungry person something to eat.

Read by sunlight instead of by lamplight.

Be content in your own choices rather than try to control the choices of others.

Find your own peace.

And try to "Do today so that we all have a tomorrow."

Until next time...

eloR lasreveR=Role Reversal

It is Monday.  It is my first official day of Summertime.

I'm not going to call it vacation per se because  I still have work to do.  Although my 2013-2014 school year ended last Friday, as all teachers, I am immediately looking toward next year, mentally going over beginning-of-the year lessons that I'd like to teach, classroom expectations I'd like to foster.  I'm analyzing Pinterest and other internet sites looking for the best way to conserve precious classroom space and to hide the inevitable bumps and dings on time-worn classroom furniture.

And of course, I now must also fill my non-teaching time with  TEDxKyoto preparations, trying to get as much done now as I can since our main event in September coincides--as it always does--with the start of my school year.

So yes, it is Monday, and while I didn't have to wake up at 5am today, I still woke up  at 6, still took out the garbage.   Still made coffee and washed stray dishes.

Not long after  I woke up, however, something different happened.

Patrick and Aya got up.

They grumbled their way down the stairs, fully dressed and rummaged around the kitchen for food.

Then they packed their bags with water bottles and plastic containers of leftover pizza for lunch.

And they  left.

In an odd, delightful reversal of roles, THEY left to go teach, and I stayed home.

About a month ago they were asked if they would be available to be assistants to help out with my school's 2 week summer school program.  Aya would work with a teacher with the younger kids, and Patrick would work with another teacher with the older elementary kids.

And they said yes.

So now it feels strange to be sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee as Patrick and Aya scurried off to school.  Odd pangs of pride, liberation and confusion are dashing through my brain, along with a rather overwhelming sensation that something must have gone terribly wrong here, if they are out teaching and I am staying home.

Yet, the early morning summer sun is streaming through the window and the humidity of another Kyoto day has not yet descended.   A cup of warm coffee is at my elbow.

Hmmm,  perhaps this is a role reversal that I could get used to.  At least for a little while.