Another Couple of Lost Generations

   

     In talking with someone about the election a few weeks ago, she mentioned the people of this country made her question the educational system in the country, along with its educators.  I was too tired and disheartened by the direction of the election to defend my profession at the time, but today I fear I must.  Sorry, it wasn’t the educators, but yes it was the educational system.  I didn't want this blog to involve politics, but I fear I have no choice today.  I am sick with grief because I am afraid this is the last election I will ever care about.

     The orchestration and manipulation of our youth, and now our young adults; (of voting age) began in 2000 with the election of George W., but it was only exacerbated with President Obama and Arne Duncan’s system of teacher evaluations, based on test scores.  Bush’s No Child Left Behind created a climate in which teachers taught TO the test in order to keep their jobs, or to stop from being publicly ridiculed in staff meetings for having the lowest test scores. Now please think of what you would do if your job were dependent on one day, in the life, of a child, and his or her test scores, on that ONE day.  Teaching to the test, a test, which only scores Math and Reading, means schools have to set new priorities in scheduling.  When the very existence of a school depends on test scores, districts make ridiculous decisions like requiring four hours a day, every day, of Reading and Math.  In those four hours, students are taught a “Standardized” scripted curriculum, which excludes Science and Social Studies, and mandates how to teach and exactly what to teach with no time for teacher autonomy or professional experience to make an impact.  In a six hour day where Lunch, recess, Music and PE are required, that doesn’t leave much for Social Studies or Science; the two very subjects where culture, tolerance, government, constitutions, questioning, Scientific principles and reasoning, are taught, usually. 

     I am going to say, “I told you so,” because I did.  After Bush was elected, and enacted his educational policies, I knew we would be entering a new dark age in which we would be raising a generation of mindless, children; ignorant and intolerant of other cultures, who would not know where Europe was located, let alone, Iraq or Afghanistan.   I warned my colleagues, and anyone who would listen, in 2000, of this very situation today.  These individuals have no idea of the mistakes cultures and societies have made in the past, which means they are doomed to repeat them.  I did not want Obama to be President when he ran against Hillary because I knew his “Basketball buddy’s” educational policies would continue this plague of ignorance.  Obama left everything to Arne and devoted his time to a health care system with so many Republican earmarks it shouldn’t be called Obama Care, but Republicans Don’t Care or The Lower Middle Class will pay for all your Care.   So please don’t blame the educators because we have no power.  We don’t even have a voice in our local district education boards, or our federal education department.  Arne Duncan was never an educator, neither was my state’s secretary of education.  Now Trump wants to appoint Ben Carson as Secretary of Education.  So you can kiss the next four plus years in education, goodbye.  We are in a climate where a church pastor can pressure a school about what to teach in the public school. 

     If you know history, you know targeting the youth and limiting their education, is one of the first steps of establishing power and keeping it.  It’s also one of the best ways to infiltrate a society before anyone even knows what happened.  So please don’t blame the educators.  Blame yourselves.

The Rantings of a Fifty-something Woman!: Books

The Rantings of a Fifty-something Woman!: Books:       The Sinner’s Club by DW Plato hooked me right from the beginning with a tender prologue that left me wanting more.  T...

" Kleine Kinder Kleine Sorgen, Große Kinder Große Sorgen."

  Literal translation:  “Small children, small worries, big children, big worries.”

     “Kleine Kinder kleine Sorgen, große Kinder große Sorgen.”  Loosely translated: as your children grow, so do their problems.  My father said this so often, especially after the fourth time I crashed his car.  Until recent years, I never really comprehended the value of this German adage.  I remember one important moment in my early days of motherhood, sitting outside with my visiting neighbors.  I must have looked exhausted and spent, as I held my newborn.  My neighbor, a mother of three teenage girls, turned to me and said, “This is as easy as motherhood is ever going to be.”  I couldn’t believe she said that!  How could that be?  I was an exhausted slave to this tiny being who insisted on nursing for eight hours a day.  It had to get easier!

     My sons did not navigate their preschool and elementary years in typical fashion.

Teachers and Summers!

Photograph by Erika Munz

By Erika Munz
-Dedicated to my dear friend Monica Coash; a teacher who never had a summer off and who was my loudest cheerleader in all endeavors. 

     I’ve been a telemarketer, a stage manager/technician, a preschool teacher, an auditory training technician, and a department store cashier.  (Among other jobs my fifty-five year old brain refuses to acknowledge.)  My favorite was the substitute preschool teaching position, even when the two-year olds whined for their Miss Nancy to return.  (Apparently preschoolers have an aversion to walking in single file.)  All experiences I would have missed if I hadn’t become a teacher and had summers off.  As I sat in my third training this summer,

A Working Mother?

     
   
     There is no role with which I have identified more than that of a working mother.  Like most humans, I’ve carried many labels.  I've been a daughter, sister, student, teacher, friend, and wife.  None has ever defined me as much as being a working mother.  Becoming a mother was a huge role that I wholeheartedly dove into and which did become a major part of my identity.  Going back to work, when my sons started school, thrust me into the role of working mother.  I wore that label like a badge of honor.

No Woman Ever Shot a Man While He Was Doing the Dishes

      First, I must explain that I am not a conventional wife.  I don’t feel obligated to clean the kitchen simply because I am the wife in this situation.  My favorite fridge magnet reads, “No woman ever shot a man while he was doing the dishes.” I do, or did it in this case because I know what it’s like to mow the yard in 100-degree heat and today I opted for the kitchen.  So while cleaning up my air-conditioned kitchen this morning, I realized dishes are a huge part of life. With every important event, there will be dishes.  A child is born or christened; there will be food and dishes to clean.  A wedding; there will be many dishes to buy, as well as dishes to clean.  A death; mourners bring food and then someone will have to do the dishes.  A job is lost, you still need to eat and do dishes. In 1789, when referring to this newborn country, Benjamin Franklin should have said, “In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes. Oh, and someone is going to have to do the dishes.” 

I Hate Commas!

Photo by Erika Munz

     That is a strange title for a blog, but it is how I feel!  Even the previous sentence annoys me because it has a comma and I am always debating where to put a comma when using the word, “But.”  If I put the comma after the “But,” it seems weird but it also seems weird before the word.  Either way, I feel like I am calling someone a Butt.  Don’t worry this is not the only topic for this post.  I also plan on discussing punctuation and grammar in general. wink

     I’m not one to follow rules and following rules of punctuation is part of that personality flaw, even though I am a National Board Certified Teacher in English Language Arts.  However, after I published my first draft of my first post, a dear friend messaged me that she enjoyed reading my post even without paragraphs.  I responded that I didn't know where to put the paragraphs and that I didn't understand blog etiquette.  She was politely amused and reminded me to consider my audience.

Better Late Than Never

     So I am fairly new at this blogging thing, but I thought I would give it a try.  I started a blog years ago, hoping to find like-minded woman, who were mothers getting ready to release their first-born children out into the world, however, I never got too far.  I did have one follower, who visited one time.  Does it count if it was my sister?  I have debated for over a year about what I could blog about.  I mean, I think I can be very entertaining, but that doesn’t mean others will agree.  Lately, I have had much to rant about, so I thought, what about a blog for my rants?  While helping a dear friend with a work blog, we discussed the possibility of my blog and I mentioned I didn’t think people would visit a site just to read the rantings of a fifty-something woman.  She responded that she didn’t know about the blog, but THAT would be a great title, so here I am.