It's About Teaching and Learning

The most intellectually stimulating aspect of my life right now is my Board of Education work.  Except for the running, especially the part about having to raise money, I am a true and good "duly elected" public servant. Of service, serving, servant; it is a role to which I am well suited. As Peter said (in Aramaic and not using these exact words, I'm sure), "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms."  And so I have lent my intellect, time and treasure to the noble cause of re-engineering Stamford's public schools, firm in the belief that an equitable education truly benefits all.

To say it is challenging is to not give adequate weight to the controversy surrounding such transformational policies. Even those who profess a progressive philosophy bridle when it comes to their progeny.  Classroom diversity in ability as well as socio-economic status is good, so long as their child has access to the best public education has to offer, without regard to affordability and availability.  Elitism rears its ugly head as better educated and more affluent progressives join forces with the neanderthals who are convinced that the way things used to be is the way things should be again.

Several factors show such a model to be untenable, outdated and dangerous.  First, growing diversity combined with shrinking budgets require school boards to revise spending to reflect the needs of increasingly complex student bodies.  Second, as with new affordable housing protocols, it is understood that  warehousing low-income and minority populations translates into a permanent underclass and is inherently separate and unequal. Third, as the world shrinks, competition goes global and a diverse workforce becomes the norm, it is incumbent on districts to educate students using an instruction method that exposes children to the different ways their peers think and learn. Fourth, there is no such thing as a "good job" for someone with only a high school education.  Not all jobs require a 4-year degree, but all careers require advanced training.

For me though, the most compelling reason to reinvent public education is becuase this country needs an educated electorate; people from all different walks of life who have been taught to think and learn, to seek information and to analyze data.  We will not survive the extremists from all sides who call for no new taxes on one side or no labor union concessions on the other; who believe that corporations and a free-market economy are either the enemy or the savior.  We must become a country of thinkers who are able to discern the nuances of a problem, then work collaboratively to build consensus towards a solution. And more than a few of these thinkers must become public servants who work for the greater good. We are living in perilous times.  If not now, when; if not you, who?

Ben's Cat... NOT!

About 3 years ago, Ben asked if we'd take care of Oscar for a couple of weeks. Now he'd have to pry him from our cold dead hands.  In this picture, he's saying "I see you. No, I mean I SEE you." Or he could be saying, "What the hell are you looking at?"  Or maybe it's, "Bring that BB closer so I can bat at it with my cute paws."

Point is, he's a mystery, like the rest of life.  In his presence I am a happy observer, endlessly intrigued and charmed by the vast chasm between me and him .  

It's when observation is not an option that I get confused.  Take my situation for instance. For a moment, all the pieces of my life aligned.  The spiritual, professional, personal and political were parts of an organic whole.  OK so maybe my marriage is problematic but it's not for lack of love.  We just have a really hard time talking about money. Anyway, except for that, my life was a single organism where each experience and action improved the results of something else I was doing. Do you know how hard it is to arrive at a state of equanimity? Let's just say it wasn't an accident of luck. I was blessed -- and I knew it.  What I didn't count on was how short-lived it would be.  While I was carefully tending to each strand of my life, like a shepard his flock, outside forces intervened. And poof! Serenity disappeared, to be replaced by uncertainty and anxiety.

It's proof -- like I need it -- that control is a mere illusion.  Which recalls a story a friend of mine told me.  Her father-in-law, a native Chinese, came to Vietnam as a 10 year-old in search of his father, who died shortly after the reunion.  Impoverished, he worked hard and by 47 owned plantations and factories.  Then shit happened in the form of the Vietnam War and like that, everything was lost.  So he came to America with his wife and 8 kids and started over.  Then wham! 9-11 and his grocery store was gone.  Once again he starts over.  My friend says, "You'd think he'd be bitter, but he wasn't.  His messagewas, 'Don't put much stock into material things, because they can be taken from you in an instant. Instead count your blessings using a metric that comes from within, not without.'"

Which brings me back to being confused.  I get it, I really do.  The trouble is I don't know how to fix it.  And that brings me back to my husband and money.  But that's a story for a different time.

Keeping my chin up

I applied for this almost perfect job a few weeks ago, was interviewed and asked to come back for a second interview. Found out yesterday I didn't make it to the final round. What a let down. It's a drag and makes me wonder what people see in me that I don't. Oh well, tomorrow's another day. Too bad it's not another dollar.

Elizabeth Edwards

Saw her interview with Matt Lauer on the Today Show. She wants to close the sad chapter of her life with the last chapter of her newly published paperback. She compares her situation to Sandra Bullock who's tabloid fodder because of her breakup w/what's his name. Seriously, I mean what's his name? Oh yeah... who cares. And what was Elizabeth's AH of an ex's name? Can't remember that either. All I can say is - you go girl!

Long Time No Write

Just came across my feeble attempt to write a blog while reading a friend's blog account of his travels to Greece with 24 ninth through twelfth graders. Re-read my 2006-2007 posts and they aren't bad, but I remember why I gave it up. It would take me hours to write each one. And who has time to spend hours (unless you're Dooce). Now I realize that a little thought and maybe a chunky-funky sentence or two aren't all that awful. It's about showing up, or as I like to stay, standing in traffic.

Public Enemy Number One

Every time I eat something covered with powdered sugar, I inadvertently inhale some, then spend the next five minutes thinking "what a sad way to die -- choking and coughing to death." What's worse, I know this is going to happen so I try to hold my breath while I pop one of those little donut holes in my mouth. But you try chewing, swallowing and tasting (because what's the point of eating a powdered sugar donut hole if you're not going to enjoy the taste) while holding your breath. Of course I could be the only person who's incapable of eating and breathing at the same time, but I doubt it, because I just ain't that special.

Just Show Up

Most days I open my email to find Barbara Crafton's "The Almost Daily eMo from Geraniumfarm.org," waiting for me. These missives from a retired Episcopal priest contain no mushy, foggy religiosity or fundamentalist "my way is the only way" crap that makes me cringe. Instead, Crafton writes deceptively simple, thoughtful and straightforward meditations that are meant to be incorporated into everyday living. Yesterday's eMo titled "You'll Think of Something" was about how simply "showing up "was more than half the battle. She ended with "Not in the mood? Don't worry. Just show up and trust in God. You'll think of something."

A friend of mind used to say "If you stand in traffic long enough you're bound to get hit." It's sort of the same message. Whether you feel like it or not -- to move forward you have to put yourself out there everyday. I like the imagery this conjures up. The traffic is whizzing by as in time-lapse photography. Head and tail lights look like red and white ribbons streaming down the highway and I'm standing on the meridian with every intention of stepping off the curb at the precise moment the car with the key to success comes wheeling by. Trouble is, at the speed the cars are moving, there's an element of luck as to whether I'm going to be hit by good fortune or just count myself lucky to be alive.

It's true that showing up is half the battle. What I didn't get (stupid me), when it comes to a profession, the other half has to be a totally recognizable expertise. Dedication, motivation, loyalty, hard work, talent, a damn good personality, and not bad looking either -- are considered so much flotsam and jetsam next to what really matters. To be considered for any job I'd be interested in I have to demonstrate -- in a particularly linear fashion -- that I have the requisite experience.

And that's where the trouble lies. My resume looks like a patchwork quilt. Hell, I've had more jobs than Law and Order has reruns. Sure I've met lots of people from different walks of life, developed a social conscience, raised 3 spectacular children, managed to stay married for an eternity, and mastered more than a few skills. Some of the work I've done has even been pretty impressive. But whoever hires me next will have to be a contortionist to see through the laundry list of "and from there I... "

To keep body and soul together, I've been temping as a secretary -- or in today's vernacular -- an administrative assistant. It's OK -- if you like being invisible to the suits. I'm not sure if it's because I'm a temp or because I don't have an office. Either way it's a lethal combination.

So, while I look for my dream job, if anybody needs their closets organized, give me a call.