Posts tagged as:

blogging

C'Mon Son: Star Wars Edition

C'mon Son: Star Wars Edition

Last week, after attending the awesome TEDxNYED, I found myself yearning for more of that collaborative energy. Everytime I thought I was done reflecting on some of the ideas presented, I find another opportunity to immediately use the knowledge acquired to something I’d already thought.

For instance, I invited a group of educators and concerned citizens to blog here about a series of topics ranging from school choice for their children to the impact of great educators. Each has a passionate voice and a vibrant energy that resonates through their own writing. Upon assembling this team, I also hoped that we’d start building towards a collective of concerned citizens addressing issues pertaining to Black / Latino education in this country, and our common concerns and solutions. Most of the people responded positively, and I expected 1-2 people who wouldn’t. These people were busier than anything and I had to respect that.

One of them totally disappointed me. I invited her since she’d inspired great discussion on Twitter through her #blacked hashtag and her new Ning, At first, her reaction was positive enough. After clarifying the assignment in the same way that I clarified to everyone else, I heard no reply. I let it go. Then, I turned over to Twitter and found her writing a series of tweets positing that those who blog are wasting their time since blogs don’t affect change. She infers the dullard thoughts of bloggers don’t compare to more erudite people who write peer-reviewed articles (and, I’m assuming, other pieces published under similar restrictions).

At first, I giggled at the idea that someone (who I’ve deemed anonymous since her handle is also a pseudonym) would use social media to validate one platform of social media (Twitter) over a more validated form of social media (blogging), and thusly promotes another social platform (Ning) which is also a collection of collections of another social platform (blogging).

Then, I thought, “Man, maybe she has a point. We who write out here only write to cyberspace, contributing to the throngs of information out there but not seeing immediate change with our writing. Those of us looking for validation from media will surely miss out on the boat.”

Then I stopped, took a deep breath, and noticed the huge wave of academics flocking to get a slice of this new way of delivering information. Whereas once, people used to have to travel outside of their confines to find information, people now type in a few words in a bar and get most of the information they need, much of it accredited and prioritized in order of importance and popularity. At one point, a piece of writing might get about 5-10 people looking over it and helping to fill in the gaps. Now, everyone from the solo writing to the news corporation can throw their piece of writing into this vast space and have 100s of people view and edit their writing, filling in the gaps and adding new information wherever they can.

In other words, crowdsourcing is the new peer-review.

Jay Rosen spoke about this at length in his speech from TEDxNYED, and it made me think of all the professors, PhDs, politicians, mathematicians, scientists, and people from all fields put out 90% of their material in hopes of getting the best and worst feedback in real time instead of waiting around for weeks. Some of the most well-respected individuals, who’ve earned their cred through academia, now see the validity of this venue. (About time.)

It’s certainly not perfect. We’re humans, often led by misinformation, and we’re not writing academic papers, researching every bit of what we opine to the masses. When I hit that “Publish” button, I’m prone to a few grammatical errors, and a little hyperbole. Yet, and still, I’m confused about by this person’s assertions about blogging as some sort of replacement for validated and heavily-researched articles. I disagree with people without being disagreeable, but please understand, even the words here on this blog have been used for “old media,” so again, where is the argument?

Few bloggers see themselves as replacing these “wise, sacred” texts. We just ask that we get a chance to express our voice to the public. Especially in places that don’t always accept our voice. Especially in arenas where our voices have been suppressed for years through various devious mechanisms. Even in places willing to accept one or two of us, they eventually see the need for different passions and canticles.

Hopefully, after reading next week’s collection of stories, you too will join the chorus.

Jose, who will lead from behind …

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Notorious BIG, Biggie, 1994

As we commemorate the passing of Christopher “Biggie” Wallace 13 years ago, we must also remember a big reason we consider him one of the greatest rappers of all time: his delivery. It wasn’t so much the diversity of flows and rhythms within rhymes and from song to song; it was the crisp and commanding delivery of each line. Like a Black Russian, his songs were at once smooth and potent, sweet and demanding. Along with the actual lyrics and subject matter, his rather introspective lyrics spoke to the pathos of the ghetto and the mentality of newly successful ghetto boys.

I bring this up because Dan Meyer did me a huge favor this past weekend at TEDxNYED: he succinctly and precisely described my blog in a way I’d never heard. While I have a hard time completely recanting what he said, he did mention that my blog serves a mix of my education work and my policy / activist work. On the one end, I’ll interact with education heavies readily, particularly on Twitter. On the other end, I’ll interact with people edunerds have never heard of, and they tend to be the people no one’s ever heard before.

And the one thing everyone seems to agree upon: I can actually write.

Sometimes, these posts get people from divergent occupations to have heated arguments in the comments section, but mostly, the conversations become a beautiful harmony of concerned individuals. That’s where I believe this blog must officially go. I never find myself in any particular lane heavily, because the traffic often gets too dense in one for me to really own it. I’m not very ed-techy, or ed-policy heavy. I have strong convictions about education leadership, but I don’t want people judging whether I can discuss the latest Obama policy when I’m supposed to have a particular focus. I don’t engage in gossip anymore, but every so often, I find myself intertwining entertainment with education, but not in a DetentionSlip sorta way. (I’m not a fan of the BS that streams out of that blog).

That’s often where I find myself looking to Biggie for guidance. One of his greatest quotes was “If I was working at McDonald’s, I’d probably be rappin’ about burgers.” In other words, his current life made up the bulk of his work. Even if they existed in hyperbole and braggadocio, he still managed to impress us time and again with the clever precision and urgent presence. It’s as if everytime he got on the mic, no matter what the subject, what he had to say was the most important thing anyone had to hear over the 3:30 he had you for.

This blog, I hope, has the same intonation.

Jose, on brawl nights, performs like Mike. Anyone: Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, Action …

p.s. – Are you ready for Black-Latino Ed Week here? 2 weeks and counting …

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Blogging Requires Passion and Authority

This morning, Bill Ferriter on Twitter ranted a bit about an e-mail from a disgruntled hater who called his blogging an exercise in self-fellaciating (if that’s even a word). Naturally, Bill was quick to distinguish between those who believe that their blogging not only becomes a central part of the reflective process for their practice and those who simply use it to show off a little. Do edubloggers really reflect in these given venues? How much of it would we consider constructive and fructuous labors that push the national agenda for the teaching profession and how much of it do we see as an exercise in futility and self-serving, looking for pats on the back for doing what they’re supposed to do?

I thought I had a real answer to this question until I finished teaching the morning. Topic: angle relationships with two parallel lines cut by a transversal. Yesterday, I prepared them for the topic by introducing a visual glossary for them to use, reminding them of all the names of the angles they’d seen since 6th grade. They were sharper than I thought they’d be, actually using words like complementary and supplementary to discuss the relationship between some of these adjacent angles. Of course, we had to work through some of the harder problems, like when the sum of two adjacent angles was equal to one whole vertical angle, but then they were steam-rolling through these relationship. Even with the little annoyances, I was rather satisfied with how it went today.

So satisfied, in fact, that I stopped with about 2 minutes to go, where my students started annoying me (in a good way this time). They discussed some of the images they found of me on Google Images, and the social networks I might be on, including Twitter.

One of my smart-asses said, “Yo, Mr. Vilson, I got 100,000 followers.” I told him, “Maybe you should watch your house.” Laughter ensued.

Moments like this make me wonder what teaching was like when we didn’t have to worry about some little curmudgeons and sycophants crunching in numbers, making equations, and churning out pretty pamphlets for mass consumptions trying to establish a firm relationship between standardized test scores and true teacher effectiveness. These moments I share with anyone willing to subscribe to my rants, or accidentally run into this mess through a string of search terms or a click from a referral.

And I guess that’s the whole point of blogging. In spaces where critical feedback and camaraderie may not exist within a school (for various factors), the ability to make one’s own network of professionals willing to discuss critical issues has become paramount for growth.

In other words, blogging isn’t about us specifically.

That’s the whole point of doing what we do. Even when it’s completely non-sequitur, there’s an understanding with edubloggers who take this seriously that there are people of like minds and interest willing to share in their experiences, often hoping they’ll get pushed further in their profession.

Even if the moments are ridiculous. At least I know someone’s reading it. And nodding along.

Mr. Vilson, who has mannerisms even my kids are starting to imitate well. Ugh …

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Luis Ramirez and Son

As most of you are well aware of, I’ve been officially developing my new website for 7 months the last couple of months. Within that time, I’ve become a little more relaxed about promoting the content of the site and moderating the comments. Thus, when searching for phrases like “fuck mexicans” and well, “fuck mexicans,” my site comes on Google as result #5. Honestly, the essay’s title, “Tell Your Fucking Mexican Friends To Get The Fuck Out of Shenandoah” evoked enough conflict between anti-immigration advocates and pro-migrant activists like yours truly.

Before the bigotry and racism-laid comments.

Now, most of my blog posts have never needed moderations (I still get the jitters after a commenter called Soledad O’Brien an unfit mother). I’m all about civil conversation and because of the audience I draw (mainly, people who like to look up my big words on dictionary.com), I rarely ever worry about the civility and professionalism of these opinionated people.

Superficially, one might believe I let the comments on the aforementioned blog post run because I wanted to raise the numbers on my blog. I don’t believe I need that since I’m more about quality than quantity. Rather, something told me to leave those comments; let them run. Whether it’s the constant reminder that our world is not so easily eradicated of its wrongs by a click and Alt+Tab or it’s the need to let those people show their true colors (I respect that way more than those who covertly exercise their racism), I’ve let comment after comment stream through a relatively innocuous blog post.

I know most of my more sane readers probably look at this exercise as one in futility, particularly those who own blogs. Deleting some of these lewd comments is the equivalent of sanitizing one’s house. Yet, I also see the possibility for moving these comments away as a means of sweeping dirt under a rug so sullied, a visitor might wonder when the resident will ever get rid of it.

As for that blog, I probably won’t ever remove those comments. These discussions have to be had. The arguments need to be made. The person who never hears a disagreement to their comments never grows, never learns, or never really had a voice worth disagreeing with. Besides, every house is always a little dirty.

Jose, who’ll never underestimate the power of the first day back from a long vacation again …

p.s. – Trust me when I say, I’m not complicit in letting those trolls say “fuck mexicans.” To the contrary, I’d quickly hold a mirror up to their words. Read at your own risk.

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Fish's Reflection

Fish's Reflection

Last November, Bill Ferriter and I had a discussion about teacher burnout and how those of us who consider ourselves at the forefront of teacher leadership in our respective situations. The conversations kept streaming my way, and while the vets handled this situation much better, the stakes for other teachers only heightened as the year passed by. Being the reflective person I am, I said, “Well, isn’t the solution right in these spaces?” After all, reflection tends to help sow the bits of practice together into one bundle we can better handle.

Then, I noticed the lack of actual writing going on.

Then, it became a lack of socializing as a whole.

Then, I sat there, still typing away, skipping days here and there, when I said: “Can this Christmas break come ANY SOONER?!”

It seems to me that, even those of us who use these spaces to reflect and push the agenda for the teacher / educator voice, we’re still primarily in the school building, in the classroom, in the hallways, in the gyms, and in front of 20-30 children’s faces at a time, draining ourselves of our life energies in the process. How do we get enough time to blog, which is a considerably laborious process for those of us who care about the difference between there and their.

Where do we make the time to formally reflect? I agree that reflection is good, but reflecting formally, whether on paper or on this venue, and documenting that process proves more useful than random musings. What’s your weapon of choice?

Mr. Vilson, who has 1 more day to go before the blue moon greets me in a cold embrace …

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Me Looking Out

A week or so ago, I ended a blog entry about my appearance at GothamSchools.org’s fundraiser likeso:

While at times in that gathering, while chewing on some wonderful chocolate chip cookies, I mulled over whether a Black / Latino man severely outnumbered ethnically and culturally in the many educational arenas I’m involved in even really belonged in this set, I couldn’t help but feel like part of a community genuinely interested in bringing positive change to life through this relatively new media.

That’s mostly true, and in my heart of hearts, I’d like to tone down the color consciousness in favor of understanding how many true and sui generis teachers and administrators, promulgating fantastic ideas, and continuing to push a larger agenda of honest education reform here and across the states.

And then it hit me: I might be in a small handful of Black / Latino bloggers who people consider part of this edublog echelon. That scares me.

I didn’t pay much attention to this fact until I saw the latest nominees for The Edublog Awards, a forum I’ve rarely ventured except when asked to do so. I often find that award nominations of this caliber in any arena often help to read the pulse of its constituents, sifting through millions of published bytes by the same process that a microwave heats popcorn. They have as little control over how people vote as the Black Weblog Awards does (except in how they choose nominees, I assume).

I’m neither claiming discrimination nor racism on the part of the organizers, simply because omission from the popular vote works just as well on the Internet as in real life. I’m simply stating that this digital divide even within the edublogosphere makes even the most popular among us question the representation of “popular” as a whole.

The digital divide here not only exists with Black and Latino children and children from urban districts, but also Black and Latino teachers, many of whom still fear the negative effects of putting their efforts on the Internet. Then again, if we think about the digital divide amongst Black and Latino children with access to technology compared to their White counterparts, we still see a big gap, even with all the initiatives used to decrease that gap. This will inevitably add another dimension to the already stratified experiences of education for different groups of students.

The same can be said for teacher bloggers.

Personally, I understand many of the questions Black and Latino teachers have about using blogs and other technology not under Microsoft’s domain. I thusly admit to a few advantages I have compared to other teachers of my culture(s):

  1. I have a degree in computer science, so I don’t have trepidations about technology or information.
  2. I have a good eye for web design, so I don’t worry too much about making things look presentable.
  3. I’m younger, so I grew up with some tech savvy.
  4. I’m also situated somewhere that has a strong union that (however controversial) actually fights to make sure I get due process for whatever I may say and / or do. (here’s hoping the UFT sticks to their guns here.)
  5. I have some serious cojones. Either that or I never developed a real off-switch.
  6. I’ve been told I can write.

Yet, my nervousness lies with knowing just how many strides teachers have made in helping build a movement online pedagogically, professionally, and technologically, evolving the image of “teacher” in many off-shoot but assorted versions that put holes through the silhouette of the aforementioned image with speed … and Black and Latino teacher bloggers have often been overlooked in that process BECAUSE we are so few and far between.

What’s more amusing about this whole thing is that the White educators who I have met have frequently validated and congratulated my work here. From The Weblog Awards of 2007 to the Teacher Leaders Network, these outlets where I’ve consistently found myself as the sole Black voice or 1 of 2 in a room have also helped me my voice as a teacher, something my other spheres of influence on the web haven’t done for me as effectively.

Maybe because of my role as the urban Black / Latino teacher in the edublogosphere, I’m able to have some influence in this dialogue and not leave it up to higher ed professors on TV or people who left the classroom long ago writing in popular newspapers. Maybe my continued focus on writing about that abandoned and desolate bridge where it’s not “edu-tech” and it’s not “edu-politics” will help sand the wooden figure that is our discussion on K-12 education just enough so more people like me see themselves talking more about their experiences.

Maybe I’ll find the answers across that bridge …

Mr. Vilson, who’s always willing to engage in this dialogue …

{ 3 comments }

The Perfect Circle

by Jose on December 10, 2009 · 6 comments

in life

Circular Platinum Ring

Circular Platinum Ring

Somewhere in a swanky, glossy penthouse just off Canal St. last night, a group of educator bloggers, think-tankers, writers, politicians, activist, and this guy named Klein c0nvened at the behest of GothamSchools.org, a blog formed under the premise of bringing all these types into one virtual room to have these difficult but promising conversations. Upon receiving my invitation, I already concocted double double, toil and trouble brewing at the chance I might meet the chancellor, who I have nothing against personally, but I’ve disagreed with on a number of moves he’s made (most recently amongst them, closing a little more than 20 schools). I even posted on my Twitter the following:

This is gonna be funny. Going to the Gotham Schools get-together. I promise not to make too much trouble :-).

Naturally, the people at the blog had a small reason to rescind my invitation.

But they didn’t.

Cojones, my friends. With the hors d’oeuvres coming once every 3 minutes, and great personal conversations with the likes of Diane Ravitch, Patrick Sullivan, Robert Pondiscio, Leo Casey, Leonie Haimson, and Jennifer Jennings (of EduWonkette fame), I found myself in a quite comfortable circle. As many can attest to, even with the divergent opinions and personalities in that room, the whole place had a feel like the host’s blog does: disagreement without discourtesy.

I suppose it’s also why I consider myself most fortunate when I consider my choice of profession and vocation. Every opportunity I’ve had to discuss things with fellow educators has offered me a chance to grow. From the ubiquitous NYC Educator and EdNotesOnline to JD2718 and Miss Incognegro, I’m almost stunned at the rapidity of establishing a good model for professional learning communities right here online. Even when these educators don’t discuss education, people like SpeaksBeliefs, Fred Klonsky, and Jovan Miles have a way of keeping my thoughts grounded but uplifted, and that’s important. The list of people I’m indebted to for my sanity spirals around this blog.

Naturally, that’s translated to the life I lead offline. If it’s possible for complete one’s PLN with complete strangers with varying opinions, writing skills, and technological capabilities, it’s quite possible within the people we meet everyday. While most of my friends aren’t educators, most of my closest friends either work in education or work with children, so they understand. Plus, my work with adults has certainly connected me with my manager friends, who’ve probably shaken their head at my stories more than anyone else.

I can’t tell whether it’s because education already has drama interwoven into all aspects of its umbrella or because we all have some crazy mission we’re trying to fulfill for the betterment of our society, but the drama amongst educators in my circle reaches sub-zero levels. I really appreciate that. Very few people in any propitious field have people they can constantly turn to for help or growth of some level, nevermind in many dimensions of their job. I’ve sought to make that a constant reality throughout my professional career.

It’s like drawing a circle on Photoshop or Geometer’s Sketchpad: the closer one zooms into its edge, the easier it is to see the alignment of these unique and connected points (imagine drawing all the tangents to said circle. That’d be pretty). While at times in that gathering, while chewing on some wonderful chocolate chip cookies, I mulled over whether a Black / Latino man severely outnumbered ethnically and culturally in the many educational arenas I’m involved in even really belonged in this set, I couldn’t help but feel like part of a community genuinely interested in bringing positive change to life through this relatively new media. Unlike other places, I didn’t feel like a token or a placeholder, but a vested member, imperative for bloggers who constantly feel marginalized by people who can’t move fast enough in setting real agendas in this new world.

Last night, as I was ready to exit, I saw Kelly Vaughan, the first person to introduce me to GothamSchools. When we discussed my quasi-popularity, she said, “Well, Jose, you run in many circles.”

“This best amongst them,” I said.

Mr. Vilson, who told Pedro Noguera I’d have notes typed up from his conference a few weeks ago, but needed to write this post. It just took priority, man.

p.s. – There are many more to mention. Soon come.

p.p.s. – There’s a poem on the horizon. I know at least one person misses them.

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Lost Highway

Lost Highway

whisperwhisperwhisperwhisperwhisper …

“Jose Vilson blogs, you know.”

Right then, I realized that, around the corner, where ed-techies and Twitterholics never venture, infrequent visitors of the web and unintentional saboteurs congregate to discuss ways of discouraging people from using the Internet. I’ve heard (and understand) many of the arguments against the power of said Internet:

“It’s too many people.”

“1s and 0s scare me.”

“Google can’t be that simple, can it?”

“When did people start booking faces?”

“Where does all my personal data go?” (Frankly, this is the only one that’s valid here.)

And time and again, I revert to my computer science degree in hopes of trying to translate the language of those of us who eat, sleep, and Facebook to those who still have a hard time finding the little button with the circle and line on it that makes the fans in the metal box go woosh. I’ve converted a few of those people into addicts that play Bejeweled in their free time, a grimy territory in its own right, but I still get the ornery feedback about that there Interwebs.

Today, I came to the realization that people may actually care and respect me, but can’t stand it when I do something that they don’t have complete control over yet, so instead of trying to understand it, they try to tarnish my name with something that’s going to lend more credibility to the next generation of workers in any field.

In this case, blogging.

If you shook when I mentioned the word, then yes, I’m talking about you. </ carlysimon>

Therefore, rather than actually show people how to constructively and honestly manage one’s Internet personality as a teacher, I’ll take a page from Wendy Day of the world-renowned Rap Coalition, who wrote a Swiftian guide to how a record executive can swindle their rap artists in lieu of developing more resources for burgeoning artists looking to make it in the industry. Here’s a 10 point plan for jerking over a teacher from becoming more technologically advanced.

10) Tell the teacher the Internet barely works in the building. Even when it does. That way, they can’t ever feel like it’s reliable even when it was upgraded a few months prior to fives times the previous speed.

9) Force them to use their district’s e-mail, knowing that the district can check their e-mail as the district sees fit.

8) Send the teacher huge files every time you e-mail them so their inboxes freeze if they don’t delete your message within the next hour.  Add a cute e-mail signature that’s contrary to everything we know about you for good measure. (Extra points for sparkles and lavendar.)

7) Only suggest closed-source resources for any development of web pages, blogs, etc. Or for that matter, get grants from companies who do exactly that. And try to sway the more advanced teachers that, while the functionalities don’t quite fit your necessities, the backgrounds are bright and cute so get over it.

6) Ask them how one opens up Word. Just one. More. Time.

5) Keep whispering stories to them about how you heard on the Faux News that some older teacher found a younger student on Facebook and did all sorts of disgusting things to them in the back staircases, documenting all their activities through that new social media site you don’t quite understand. While the stories are sparse and just get repeated time and again, it’s important to keep repeating them because the bigger the lie, the easier it is to believe.

4) Limit the amount of time one teacher can use the lab while the substitute who has nothing to do abuses the lab all throughout. For extra points, hold no one accountable when the equipment gets damaged and the once useful lab becomes a hallow shell of itself.

3) Have every slightly controversial site blocked by the Internet filter from the district, monitor the other sites that people regularly visit, and filter those, too. Especially if it’s a personal site because G-d forbid the teacher may be infected with a little knowledge.

2) Inspire fear of the Internet by telling your boss that this teacher goes home and writes about him and the school. If that doesn’t work, say he’s writing about the kids and posting pictures of them in questionable poses.

Look at that little boy smiling in front of his work. That’s a sign of sure trouble.

See? We should have never hired that thug. Look at the signs he’s throwing up with one of our kids. So what if it’s a peace sign? Only disorder can soon follow.

One of his students’ got her hand on her hip. How can we allow that in our school?

Then continue to repeat the meme at informal meetings and lunch periods to draw some negative curiosity from teachers. One might even find a picture of him on Facebook from before his teacher days actually dancing and drinking. (gasp)

1) When that last one fails, here’s what you do: make it personal.

Tell everyone that the teacher’s writing about you and you feel an allergic reaction whenever you read all the nasty things he or she has to say about you. Tell all the assistant principals all the nasty vitriol spit at you, warranted or not, and tell them you’re thinking about taking things way out of hand instead of addressing it right to the teacher. Make sure you continue to perpetuate the culture of spy games in which the one with the most secrets has the most power, and trying to knock the flashy teacher down a peg with your little not-so-secret secret.

Then again, if the teacher isn’t deterred by any of these things, it’s probably because

1) he or she has already told the whole world about their blogging habits (or hasn’t told anyone at all).

2) he or she is easily Google-able (or doesn’t show up on any search engine at all)

3) he or she has set guidelines for their Internet usage and actually says upfront what they’re about (or has none but uses a completely indiscernible pseudonym)

4) he or she has already created spaces by which anyone can access the person at his or her convenience.

and 5) already bought their independence from your ridiculousness (check their address bar for good measure).

Otherwise, if you’re someone who wants to frustrate up and coming teachers with a knack for getting the next generation of students into this new world, then follow these steps. Then again, I only have 10 steps. I think the other people who know about this not-so-secret blog have something to add right below.

Mr. Vilson, who should be on everybody’s list. Why not this one? ;-)

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Ryu vs. Ken, Street Fighter, as interpreted by EastMonkey

Ryu vs. Ken, Street Fighter, as interpreted by EastMonkey

Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. I just got back from a wonderful vacation out in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and spent quite a lot of time relaxing, taking in sun, and being as un-teacherly as possible. Today, I’d like to show you a bit of a conversation between Jose, the writer / socialite / homebody, and Mr. Vilson, the teacher / professional / networker person. This conversation stems from the cavalcade of events that have made their way in my direction: my new position in school as hybrid teacher / data analyst / math coach, the tons of friend requests I’ve gotten from fellow staff members, and the great reading I’ve done as of late (finally finished The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, and I’m halfway through the Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire). Without further adieu, here’s the part I can share here:

Jose: So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t blog the way I do anymore?

Mr. V: I’m not saying that, but a part of me feels like with all these new and different eyes reading, your … iconoclastic views (to put it lightly) might offend certain people, and for that matter, bring about views from people that might make you feel differently about them, and not in a good way.

Jose: Well, fine, I guess it just means that I’ll have to separate the professional from the personal. After all, I don’t go into anyone else’s house and tell them what to do with their fridge, their writing, their soap operas, or their kids. Frankly, people can choose to not read my material. No one’s asking them to add me, Google me, or anything of the sort. Even my self-promotion knows its limits.

Mr. V: You’re right in some respects, but you know the way people are. Some people’s means for entertainment is gossip and trying to find someone else’s weakness, trying to find what makes them tick. Thus, when you put too much out there, people will use it against you. When you were “just” a teacher, it was easy for you to just spew at the mouth, even though you rarely if ever did. Now, as a teacher and liaison for teachers and administrators, you take on a different role.

Jose: But here’s my issue, too: if people really wanted to know my opinion on something, couldn’t they just ask me? Why go to my blog if Mr. Vilson can just tell them straight up?

Mr. V: a) Because they don’t want to actually ask. Sometimes, my demeanor as a professional can be a bit intimidating, as funny as that sounds, and b) Because oftentimes, humans don’t always communicate what they really mean.

Jose: Well I’ll give you that, but still, there’s something to be said for someone who’d rather go somewhere else to know about me rather than actually form their own opinion about me first. More importantly, they’ve gotta know I’m in it for the kids. Regardless of what others perceive, I’ve made it rather plain that I’m a professional, that I’m not going to lambaste anyone on the blog, and frankly, that Mr. Vilson’s work is all about the students.

Mr. V: It’s rather disheartening, too, because I also think you take care not to become divisive in your opinion on issues. Plus, what does it say when teachers get treated as a monolithic entity unable to form opinions about anything else in this world?

Jose: Well, the main question here is: how free do you want to be? What are you willing to sacrifice?

Mr. V: Let me get back to you on that.

{ 4 comments }

OMG My Teacher Blogs LOL LMAO

by Jose on March 17, 2009 · 8 comments

in life

Kids In Shock

Kids In Shock

Yesterday, my Google Image results showed up in my classroom computer. Not that it’s uncommon, but more who made it show up. A few of my students looked me up online and thought it’d be cute to revise my photos for some reason.

Photo #1: Looking out towards the sky. Photo #2: Fresh in greyscale. Photo #3: Here’s lookin’ at you, kid. By the time I realized what was going on, 1/2 the glass was staring at my pearly whites, wondering how their teacher actually found his way to the top of the search results, and what was this double life he was leading. On the one end, here’s this mean teacher who only talks about math, has a smart mouth, and a mean scowl. On the other end, the same man’s out there with his own .com, his long-form poems, and a “girl” by his side in picture #4.

Naturally, I do the first thing that came instinctively: I shut down the monitor. No, really. I said, OK, time’s up people. For one, I was annoyed that these gentlemen, all of whom merit an 85+ grade in my class, were focused on something else besides their quarter project. But more than that, maybe it’s my recalcitrant attitude towards my kids finding out that I have this whole ‘nother online personality.

And I took care to introduce them to my “Mr. V” entity. I have an account on AIM, GMail, and MySpace specifically dedicated to most of the inquisitors. Alas, that was not enough. People still got inquisitive.

Teachers in my building have this thing on their RSS feeds. Administrators skim over it to see if I’m alluding to them (I’m not). NYC Department of Education has my site blocked indefinitely.

And isn’t that kinda what I wanted all along anyways? To be ubiquitous and everpresent, particularly for my writing purposes? Isn’t that what’s given me all these opportunities I hold so dear to me? The reason why I’m able to positively influence the lives of dozens (possibly more) past, present, and prospective teachers and so quickly? The platform to voice my opinion when every other section of my life is met with some form of censorship?

Well, looking back at the incident, I probably should have addressed it better. It’s not that I don’t want them to know about this side of me. It’s really freakin’ easy to do so. On the other hand, maybe I should have told them that blogging isn’t a crime. Freedom of expression is a treasure we often don’t take advantage of. Yet, as with anything we do, there is a time and place to do what we do.

And looking up your math teacher in the middle of school when you have a project to do? Nott appropriate.

Anywhere else? Who am I to tell you what to do outside of school? After all, it’s that very freedom that let me write this story to begin with …

Jose, who wishes his younger brother a happy birthday.

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