Short Notes: And I’m Back
A few notes:
- Math skills suffering in the United States according to the NYTimes? Definitely.
- I’ve been so busy, I’m wondering if I built enough consistency with the kids to really affect real change.
- I saw one of my students on the train on my way to a training. She was supposed to be a junior, but she’s a sophomore now. I asked her why she was a year behind, and she said, “Math.” My head hung low.
- Yesterday, I saw, among others, Kelly Tsai and Meagan Ortiz, at Bluestockings Bookstores in my native LES. The ladies performing there definitely inspired us. For more info on the collection of women’s stories, please click here.
- Yes, I did catch The Express (The Ernie Davis Story). As an SU grad, I almost felt an obligation to see the story, especially because people like him made it easier for people like me to go to Syracuse. The movie itself honestly caught me off-guard in a good way, finding myself really emotional throughout his journey. And Dennis Quaid, who people may expect to be that “white person who made the player,” actually played a coach who cares more about winning than his personal views on Negroes. There’s a sharp difference and Quaid played that beautifully. Also hurt me to see that Davis died at 23. I will be showing this to my kids. (more on this tomorrow)
- Another sign that certain prejudices haven’t left us but simply transformed: Mexicans in Colorado have to pay 10% more for their groceries.
- Even Homer Simpson’s voting for Obama. Then again, you never know with those Diebold machines …
- Can we come to some sort of agreement on bilingual / English Language Learner education? Let’s hope so, and soon.
OK, I haven’t done this in a while, but here are some questions for you, my reader. Yes you.
1. What would you like to see in this blog?
2. Are there any topics I should get more into? Less into?
3. For people reading it directly from the site, does the blog layout work?
I can only promise to be me as far as this blog’s concerned, but you’re reading it too, so please answer away. I’ll leave this up for a while, too.
jose, who wants to be the master of all his trades …
October 12, 2008 No Comments
Without Scum, There Are Still Yuppies
A short note on yuppies:
Yes we get it. Young Urban Professionals. Upward mobility for (mostly) young white people wanting the best of everything. We get it: yuppies are more Wall Street conscious while hipsters are more charity conscious. We get it: they’re often the most biggest investors in urban art forms, including rap, slam poetry, and art. We also understand that the characteristics of a yuppie are broad enough that it’s far too ambiguous but any combination of yuppie / hipster characteristics will be met with disdain and spray paint against developing edifices all across any given metropolis. We don’t want them to die (well, most of us don’t). We understand; they’re people, too.
The rest of us urbanites aren’t letting up on yuppies and hipsters, though, and here’s why:
1) Yuppie-ism often invites more police and law enforcement to certain areas. Not that we hate the police per se, but why are poor communities only allowed to have better police enforcement when yuppies come in? Did we not pay taxes before or work hard enough for us to get real protection until we let developers gentrify our neighborhoods?
2) Yuppie-ism often means that mom-and-pop shops have to compete with multi-million (and billion) dollar corporations, which usually leads to …
3) Yuppie-ism often means that the flavor and unique characteristics of different neighborhoods get extricated in exchange for the safe, the sterile, and the monotonous, even when hipsters may preach about how they love the neighborhood and its flavor.
4) Yuppie-ism often drives the natives out of the neighborhood implicitly and not-so-indirectly with rent hikes, new buildings, and higher costs for groceries.
5) Yuppie-ism spends more time on Darfur than the South Bronx. It’s easier when people only look at some country as a distant problem than a train ride away.
6) Yuppie-ism, when confronted with said issue, is about preferring the “save the world” mentality as a measure of some guilt, but sometimes exacerbating the problem.
7) Yuppie-ism is when we see people jogging right across our neighborhoods that we helped build with our culture and and watching as the metaphor for this government-aided invasion punctures holes in us, deflating any possibility that we can have a nice neighborhood without it changing too much.
So the beef isn’t with yuppies / hipsters themselves. It’s with what they bring with them. They don’t really care to look at their shadows, where some of these evils lurk.
jose, who definitely read that New York Magazine article, and wondered this aloud …
October 9, 2008 No Comments
The Holiest Redeemers
She looks at her paper, rubs her head a little bit, and looks up at me, and says, “6?”
“Yes,” I nod in a bit of a proud moment for one of my holiest redeemers.
This year, in all of my classes, I have students who have a chip on their shoulder and have come out with a significant vengeance against their own struggles and against my well-placed challenges to them. My first class today has a roster full of runaways, victims of sexual abuse, and people who only recently came to the country. This assortment of students who rarely speak English or rarely speak Spanish is probably my hardest class, and I’m often at a loss for what works with them behaviorally. Yet, today, even with my bit of uneasiness about their dispositions, I did the exact opposite of what I’d usually do, and they blazed through my material. They chewed gum, talked to their friends, and had their Sidekicks in their desks, and I still found that 90% of the class had their attentions on me and my instruction. I didn’t get loud once (I never scream, but I have a big voice), and they responded rather well. One student in particular, whose reputation as a ringleader for all kinds of inappropriate behaviors precedes her, has led her group of girls to push for excellence, and that says a lot.
In my ELL class, they’ve all matured so much, they’re no longer considered the “worst” class. I’ve become one of the go-to teachers for the harder kids to teach, and now I see why. The class that was once regarded as the hardest class to teach has become a little more docile, and much more responsive and responsible. They’re the leaders on the floor, and they’re the only kids that consistently put a smile on my face. I literally had to scream “GET OUT!!!” to stop them from making me laugh so hard after school. Yet, they’re getting the work done, and they’re getting the homework done, and they’ve gotten good reviews from all their teachers. It’s like they’re seeking a chance to do well for themselves.
In my advanced class, there’s usually not a problem with academics, except with one girl, who has gone through her own issues in her rather short life. I find it telling how we seek out popularity so thoroughly but when we find it, we’re not fans ourselves. She found some rather dubious distinctions last year around the school, and seems to have decided on a whole different approach to her academics. She’s someone who I struggled with, and the only one who took her to task on some of her transgressions last year. The fights were often public, never disrespectful on my end, but certainly looked like …
… what it might look like when I have my own daughter.
And so it’s with that spirit that I look upon some of my children, my students, my educational confidants, and my captive audience. Whether it’s a battle against their own trepidations, their own insecurities, or their own reputations, they’re fighting and fighting hard, and even I have to play their opponent, they’re certainly winning in my eyes.
“Because when you see the bases are the same and the exponents are different, and we’re multiplying, we can add the exponents.”
Exactly.
jose, whose students reminded him these last two days why he loves his job …
October 7, 2008 2 Comments
About That Time Out New York Interview
I thought I’d let you in on a little secret. Time Out New York magazine recently came out with the New York 40, a collection of 40 people who emblemize New York City in all its corporate, liberal, and sleek-grit glory. Everyone from Tina Fey and Derek Jeter to Jay-Z and Liev Schreiber showed up on the elongated cover. You then must imagine my utter disappointment that Time Out New York never actually called me up after they interviewed me for their magazine. I wanted to wear my Patrick Ewing Anniversary Edition Team USA jersey for the photoshoot. There goes the man holding me down again.
But fear not! I have the transcript of this wonderful interview right here. You know I’ll never let you down. Full transcript below:
Who are your favorite New Yorkers?
Wow, good question. [pauses] Patrick Ewing, Derek Jeter, Don Mattingly, Joe Torre, Spike Lee, and Denzel Washington round out my list. I know it’s sports heavy, but they formed a lot of the memories of the real New Yorkers of my generation.
What’s had the biggest cultural impact on New York in the past 13 years?
Gentrification, and specifically, all these trust-fundies coming to NYC and following Mike Bloomberg’s lead. Outside of 9/11, nothing’s been bigger. On the one end, I appreciate that hard-working families aren’t scared to walk down the ave. when they come home from work, but once that happens, does it mean they need to be pushed out because they can’t afford the rent? What happened to our artists, our culture, our grit? Can’t have NYC look too much like it belongs in a snowglobe.
What about your favorite moments?
Hmm …
You have a couple?
I got a million. I remember the Yankees’ dynasty from 96 - 2000, when my headmaster in high school let us have the day off to go to the Yankee parade. Or even when I met Talib Kweli randomly in the middle of the street right before I went to buy his album. Those kinda things rarely happen, and when they do, it happens in NYC.
What’s your favorite place in NYC?
Oh, Union Square by far. It’s where all the cool protests happen, where I can have inexpensive Thai / Vietnamese, where I run into celebs without even trying, and where b-boys and b-girls still flaunt their skills for free. Union Square is one of the few places where there’s that confluence of influence, fa real.
You’re the only teacher blogger on this list. Do you think NYC Educator belongs on the list?
Without a doubt. Then again, man, my whole blog roll has enough information to take you all ’round the world. Besides NYC Educator and EduWonkette, I’m feeling The Bronx Is Learning’s joint right now and GothamSchools. They all seem to be doing good work in their respective fields.
Speaking of which, has education really improved in NYC?
Not. On. Your. Life. But a few of us definitely want change. We’re really going to need a dramatic but thoughtful shift in how we teach our children, from top to bottom. It’s probably why so many teachers have started to blog in NYC. We have a rich political understanding, even subliminally.
Is it weird being one of the only Black or Latino people on this list?
Kinda because there’s so much diversity in NYC in general. Queens alone is the most diverse district in the world. The Lower East Side is all types of diverse. NYC celebrates diversity. Then again, that’s also become a prominent theme in the education blogger sect. Not many people like me actually blog, come to think of it. Then again, I don’t mind being that, because it’s the story of my life.
That’s fair. Who would you have a drink with on the list?
Are you serious? The Captain of course! Along with Jay and Joe. And for extra J-ness, let’s add Junot. Mattafact, I’ll Facebook him right now. HA, just kidding.
Complete this sentence: New York is …
the new millenium’s Rome, replete with artisans and debauchery and complete empirical inclinations seeping through its veins.
That was actually fun. Feel free to tell TONY how you liked it.
jose, who is totally kidding about being interviewed by their staff, but wouldn’t mind nonetheless
…
p.s. - Believe it or not, that was the first TONY I’ve ever bought.
October 6, 2008 6 Comments
Nothing Changes Like Changes Because Nothing Changes But The Changes
Last week, I dedicated another blog post to a fellow co-worker who recently passed into another dimension. One’s death is to everyone else’s life what a damp tissue is to someone’s glasses. It doesn’t always change much about the glasses themselves and their density, but it helps them refocus and let you see things a little clearer. After the gathering for Mr. N, I had interesting conversations with fellow staff members, some of whom I’ve even had reservations about. With all the memories people shared about him, the first thing I thought was:
Maybe the only way we grow is if we don’t treat people like cartoons.
Here’s what I mean:
Sometimes, we keep a certain set of characteristics about people. How they act, what they eat, what they don’t like, their reasons for living all become part of this depiction we have about certain people. Over time, this caricature becomes so ingrained in our psyche that, even after not having seen them in years, we still rely on those descriptions to form how we interact with the person in the future.
And that’s good because a) it says that the person’s important enough to remember. Also, it’s also good because there are certain parts of a person’s persona that never change, just become augmented or shift a little bit. However, it’s also fool’s gold because these characterizations lead people to think that we humans aren’t capable of change, and that’s far from the truth.
I know I’ve made certain judgments about people in the past that I’m not necessarily proud of, but over time, as I got to know them a little better and see them in times of conflict and triumph, I get to see another side of them that I’ve never seen before. That shift of understanding came with years of getting to know the person, interacting with them, and not being too quick to judge them. Then, when you don’t see them for a while and don’t interact with them for a while, you’re better suited to greet them.
It’s just a thought I had as that day passed. Nevermind all the characterizations I had of the man when I first met him: mean, overbearing, bitter. What I knew of him as we started interacting more was the man you read about last week. In turn, it must also mean that I too have changed. Not just in my interactions with that one man, but everyone else, too. Nothing changes like changes because nothing changes but the changes, huh?
jose, who wonders what you’re thinking (comment below) …
p.s. - It’s funny that I quote Gary Busey because he’s usually a knucklehead, but gems like the title give him mucho props from me.
October 5, 2008 No Comments
The King’s Labor of Love
Who gets to say their real last goodbyes?
Late in August, right before school started, the week that my mentor and friend left to another school for a more prominent position as a math coach, one of the eternal spirits of the school, Mr. N, died, and in surprising fashion. With the vast changes in our school, Mr. N’s death rung like a four-alarm blaze across those who worked at the school presently and in the past. No one could have known that he would have passed on to another dimension, especially in light of his proclamations of “55/25!” so close to actually retiring and never reaching that age.
He was known as the “troublemaker,” an affectionate term for the feisty and cantankerous spirit in him. He’d tell stories of the battles he’s fought in his homeland, his excursions across the world by sea, by land, and by air, his decades of teaching, and often anyone within earshot of his voice knew that he wasn’t even telling us the half. The man demanded a certain attention only few mastered. His swagger and audacity often caused administration fits, children to run home and cry about the mean old science teacher, and fellow teachers to take a few steps back before approaching him.
Inside, though, and this became very evident once you spoke to him, he had the heart of a warrior. He was a true champion of the people, often standing up for the very teachers he’d fight with, and looking out for his most troubled students knowing that they could reach their full potential. Nothing was ever good enough for him, and he made sure the students knew that. His signature stroll in the hallway and thunderous growl could be heard in the hallways sent out the alarm that, yes, he was here, cane, daishiki, golden chains, and all. This king was not to be messed with.
He was a social delight, imparting his wisdom with anyone who wanted to share a drink with him, dancing with the prettiest women on the floor because he said so, and speaking his mind whenever he felt like it, and even principals just had to take it because they knew what he was about. He loved his job, and he fought even harder when he saw others fight just so they could be at peace.
And I’m still having a hard time reconciling his passing. I still expect the man to be there, and even on the train home with my girlfriend reminiscing about him, I was overcome with emotion and tears reminiscing on this African king. He brought many a man and woman to their knees, and embraced them just the same as part of his kingdom. He’s survived by wife and kids, yes, but also thousands of students whose lives he affected, who still scream his name when they see him years later on the street, and science labs that almost feel empty without him there.
Mr. N, your labor of love still reigns …
jose, who made sure I told people who I thought were doing a good job that they were …
September 30, 2008 6 Comments
A Message To Latinas, Remastered
“A Message To Latinas, Remastered”
She gets on stage,
Powerful, omnipotent, nervous, fragile
She stands behind the mic
Calling for attention,
That which is already hers
Cautioning that she might use terse language
An audience already accustomed to the curses of a million lives
She stands there, reading off her crumpled paper
Reciting a life’s work worth its weight in the wait
A significant time
Not from the beginning of the show to her set
But from the beginning of her life to the motivation to put these thoughts on a sheet
Or the time the women of her kind before her
Voiced similar struggles
With picks and gel to hot combs and curling irons
The natural bearers of human life’s fruit
Reminded physically every 28 days of a 10-month period
She should have the choice to embark on
She’s the loud lion’s lioness,
The million unrecognized members of the largest movements we recognize
The curves to a man’s rigidity
The sweet to our tart
The muscle we don’t see in our mesodermal layers
The inspiration of our creativity
The thoughts behind the words of this scribe
Whose only task is to observe the Latinas
So decorated in their accomplishments
So invigorating in their candor
Emotional multitaskers slighted by sexist views
Willing to change those in not-so-quiet ways
And she gets off the stage,
Her words speak to the people,
Ripping at the idea of politeness in the name of effective communication
Of her needs, wants, desires,
The good, the bad, and the undiscussed
And all we have to do is watch and listen
Let her speak her piece
The soundwaves of the million unrecognized oft become familiar …
Jose Vilson, © 2008
jose, who is often inspired by those who seek inspiration from him …
September 29, 2008 1 Comment
Come Back Together, Over and Again
This extended weekend here at Syracuse U was the necessary motivation I needed to make everything I do that much better.
After all the panels, workshops, meetings, business cards (and business cards running out), and serious conversations, the responsibility and power to do as much as possible with the talents and connections I’ve developed has become almost impossible to ignore. Alumni from decades before me want to get to know me, much the way I wanted desperately to get to know them as I ascended the ranks of college life. Ever since I found out about CBT (Coming Back Together, alumni reunion), I knew I’d find the sages and legends that led movements before me, and ultimately, I’d be helping to cement their legacies as a collective.
This CBT became less about just soaking up experiences, though. It’s more about developing the human potential of these shared experiences. Not only are we now in positions to share these movements with others and just build casual relationships; it’s about building the necessary bridges across generations of experiences, and highlighting that which binds us to the university. We founded the organizations, fought against the same injustices, used the same dorms, and met in the same areas. We danced to different music, had different relationships with administration, and felt different vibes about the global economy and what we’d do after we graduated.
Somewhere in that matrix of contrasts and commonalities, we alum found a common ground, the same ground that brings us together. We’re no longer just participants, but investors. We’re not asking for a minimum slice of the orange; we want 1/2. We still see a struggle to overcome, but we acknowledge the role we alum play for students who have shared our experiences, and how just a few simple words from some of our Syracuse University descendants empowered us to amplifies our voices in institutions that were once not friendly to us and our needs.
Often, people see the students as the conduits for change, the bearers of the torch, and when they move on from that station, they no longer see themselves as accountable to the kinds of change the institution needs. CBT changes that dynamic for so many of us. Now, and for the last 25 years, Syracuse U has those experiential and financial backing from underrepresented groups. And now, I’ve become a big part of the movement for more of this partnership to reflect the alum.
More than anything, though, this weekend left me exhausted. Off to sleep, y’all.
jose, who laughs at people who sing “Swagger Like Us” and really have none …
September 28, 2008 1 Comment
Toasting the President
I don’t want to have a beer with my President.
Scenario
Anyone that thinks otherwise is, at best, a sycophant with a penchant for reading wishy-washy children’s books. Picture the scene: I’ve just gotten back from work at around 5pm, Kangol hat, tie, pinstriped shirt, chalk-tinted slacks, and the weather’s really nasty. I come into my favorite beer place, pushing through a ton of black suited gentlemen, sit on a stool, and watch the 5 o’clock news, and to my right is the freakin’ President of the United States of America. I order a Blue Moon, and he’s got a Sam Adams in hand. We clink glasses when all of a sudden, his face turns flush, practically jumping out of his stool. Why? Because 5 minutes later, the news comes on and there’s another national crisis, and rather than being on his job, he’s there with hops in his breath and his shirt all a mess, completely unready for TV and completely rude: dude left without paying his drink, and here I am again, paying with my hard-earned money for his own follies.
For Real
Now, I’m making a large assumption that a woman wouldn’t be there drinking a beer, but I only hang out with women who pay for their own drinks these days, so the rudeness factor hasn’t come into play in a long time. I’m also making an assumption that the President participates in the modern moonshine. More than anything, though, I’m under the assumption that most people who understand the role of the President know that it’s not a job someone can take lightly. It’s bad enough our present President thinks he can break out the candles during the peak of Hurricane Katrina while the guy we were supposed to have (the guy that people said they probably WOULDN’T have a beer with) is getting drenched from working down there. Imagine that our President is finding out when disaster strikes on television at the same time we do.
No way.
I for one would never want the mayoralty, much less the Presidency of a whole country. I’d lose sleep thinking about the millions of people I’m serving, the hundreds of critical (and often life-and-death) decisions my team and I would have to make on a daily basis, the billions of taxpayer dollars I have a primary say over, the policies and doctrines under my name, sealing the legacy of me and my whole bloodline probably for the next couple of centuries. With great power comes tons of responsibility, and while I’d at first relish the chance to take the nation’s highest office, I’d never be up for that kind of challenge.
In turn, it behooves anyone with a clear conscience to think about the responsibilities of whoever is chosen as the next President. It reminds me of Robert Greene’s 34th Law of Power, where he says
“Law 34: Be Royal in your Own Fashion: Act like a King to be treated like one”
Theoretically, we’d say that we would love to meet the President and have him or her be normal, just like everyone else. Yet, presidents are abnormalities. They’re kings with term limits and high chairs instead of bloodlines and thrones. They’re servants to and rulers of the people, and that’s why, when we elect an official, we better make sure they’re good decision makers, because the less informed have a hard time making critical decisions for themselves. We also note that, time and again, when people of high rank or a certain celebrity tried to act like everyone else, people immediately turned on the person, to the point where his or her legacy is completely disparate from the person who lays there, bereft of the pedestal on which they once stood.
SO I don’t want to have a beer with the president. I don’t need to feel any “ordinary” connections with whoever takes the post. If we eat a meal together at the big house, that’s cool. If the Prez wants to watch a game at Yankee Stadium with me next year (and hook a brotha up with 2 or 3 extra tickets), then by all means, let’s do that. But seriously, you really think I want to know that the leader I helped elect (or not) is out there somewhere, imbibing when there’s so much work to be done for this country? My tax dollars are going to that?
No thanks. I won’t be toasting to that.
jose, who can’t wait to go to Coming Back Together in Syracuse this week …
September 23, 2008 5 Comments
Laws of Power Revisited
When I last discussed the acclaimed 48 Laws of Power, I was still heavily entrenched in the workings of Mao, Bismarck, Talleyrand, and Lola Montez, and thus found myself quickly able to apply my readings into my daily work as a math teacher in the NYC public school system. It became especially apparent after talking to a cluster of well-known bloggers personally that these 48 Laws not only apply in the classroom but when dealing with administrators and other teachers. Let’s recap what my list of my favorite laws of power (full list here):
Law 3: Conceal Your Intentions
Law 4: Always Say Less than Necessary
Law 5: So Much Depends on Reputation – Guard it with your Life
Law 9: Win through your Actions, Never through Argument
Law 13: When Asking for Help, Appeal to People’s Self-Interest, Never to their Mercy or Gratitude
Law 17: Keep Others in Suspended Terror: Cultivate an Air of Unpredictability
Law 27: Play on People’s Need to Believe to Create a Cultlike Following
Law 28: Enter Action with Boldness
Law 29: Plan All the Way to the End
Law 30: Make your Accomplishments Seem Effortless
Law 31: Control the Options: Get Others to Play with the Cards you Deal
Law 34: Be Royal in your Own Fashion: Act like a King to be treated like one
Law 35: Master the Art of Timing
Law 36: Disdain Things You Cannot Have; Ignoring Them Is The Best Revenge
Law 44: Disarm and Infuriate with the Mirror Effect
Again, at that point, I thought I’d only mastered #3, 4, 9, 27, 30, 33, but according to some, I got a lot more down by now. I just want to highlight a few of the original 48, as reading through some of the conversations around the blogosphere leave me wondering whether 48 Laws of Power should be required in all those cool teacher education programs so many of us have dichotomous opinions about. These laws as far as educators (and anyone really) are concerned fall under 3 categories: pre-event, during-event, and post-event.
Pre-Event (#3, 5, 28, 34)
Before I even walk into the classroom, whether I have a lesson plan ready for the students or not (I usually do, but I have rough nights like other humans), I should at least come into the classroom ready to teach my students. I know what the students think of me, but I get to form that with a) a built reputation b) formlessness so they don’t get too comfortable and c) a vision for how you want to be perceived. The worst any teacher, new or otherwise, could ever do for themselves is to not believe in the persona they’ve established. If you’re the cool and fun teacher, then know what that comes with. If you’re the strict disciplinarian who doesn’t want anyone talking, then you should reflect that. Once I let the students dictate who I am, I’ve lost it. The topic of management (classroom or otherwise) has literally blocks of books dedicated to it, but only the good ones address this: my soul (or inner energy) determines whether I’m convincing in my role or not.
During-Event (#4, 9, 13, 17, 29, 30, 44)
During class, we need to stay focused on the task. That goes without saying. However, people often mistake nastiness for structure. My lessons are supplemented by my mannerisms. For instance, teachers’ questioning techniques help the students come up with their own thoughts about how to solve problems. Students get mad at first because they’re used to getting the answer straight away, but the more questions I ask, the more they’re forced to think about the questions I’m asking. In other words, I’m saying less than necessary. Also note that students often invite me to argue, and my response is always task-related. I always say, “Is it about math?” or “What’s your question related to the math?” Sounds a bit Draconian, but during the 42 or so minutes I have them, I don’t have time to waste and they shouldn’t feel that way either. If it’s not about math, they know not to bother me. If I can dead a conflict in a matter of seconds, I do it before other students gain courage to try anything with me.
Post-Event (#27, 31, 35, 36)
The crucible of my reputation and what happens in the classroom often comes with what I did and do after class, and the events not having to do with the classroom. If they asked me to showcase some poetry, I did, and they’ll totally ate that up. If I see a student in need of a serious conversation or just a pat on the shoulder, I reach out and make it happen, still maintaining my teacher voice and face, but I invite them into my experiences, often empathizing with them a little. The little things I do and say as they’re walking out of class, and the way I approach students in the hallway and even the students I’ve had in previous classes make them evangelists. They’ll carry the message more than my voice ever could. I still have students who I had last year come by and visit even if they didn’t do very well the year before. Children have a strong intuition about who cares about them and who doesn’t, and no amount of experience, pedagogy, or Jedi mind tricks can dissuade children from knowing whether or not I’m in the job for social prestige (typically known as the “save the children” people) or if I really believe in students’ achievement.
The Adults
Oh, and before I forget, this also works with the adults around me too. I take the time to interact and get to know my fellow teachers and staff, but I don’t get stuck to any one. Some people usually did favors for me so they can look better, not because they were totally and genuinely interested in helping me. I never give too much away about myself, and I especially don’t tell anyone my true opinions about anyone in the building unless I’m 99% sure they won’t betray my trust. The job is hard enough with the students, but sometimes the adults reflect the worst of their own students’ behaviors. I always keep a foot above the fray, never too far from the madness, but with enough breathing room where I won’t be suffocated.
What Now?
As I’m moving up, more people have become aware of my extra-curricular activities (i.e. this one), and I’m fine with it. Following the 48 Laws of Power, I’ve also made myself invaluable to the school community. The best teachers in the school follow these laws quickly and effortlessly. Something we can all take heed from. Now, there’s a hint of amoral Machavellianism in the book, but our sense of morality varies from person to person.
My first recommendation, before picking up the book of course, is to think deeply not about you are, but the person you want to be. Make every action in that classroom reflective of that. There are a lot more factors that determine how the classroom will work (supportive staff, training, children’s background, the amount of sugar they had that morning), but you can’t go into a situation with that sort of fatalism.
It’s your power. Your move.
jose, who will follow this up with a post I started on Twitter a few days ago …
September 22, 2008 5 Comments














