The Change You Keep

There's been some trepidation about Obama's early cabinet picks. I shared some concern about the type of "change" we were getting.

Now, a very promising sign: Obama keeps Gates. On the surface there's no change - Washington insider keeps job. Big headlines, right?

Plenty of recent presidents have had the "token opposition" in their cabinet somewhere. But this is different: keeping one of the BIG FOUR from the outgoing administration, with a change in party control. We might as well have expected Bush to keep Clinton's Attorney General, or Clinton to keep Bush 1's Secretary of State.

Obama clearly doesn't agree with Gates on all things military. But he shouldn't have to. Filling a cabinet full of ideological yes-men hasn't turned out too well in the past. Looking beyond party to think about what's best for the country is the type of change we should keep.

Short Week

Thank God for short weeks!

I'm leaving Wednesday right after school (yes, some school systems have school the day before Thanksgiving.  Talk about non-family-friendly!) to visit my sister and the family in Kentucky.  I haven't seen my sister, her husband, or their 3 beautiful children in a long long long long time.  Can't wait to see how they've grown!  

But it means the next 2 days, just like every year, are one of the longest short-weeks ever.

Boxing People Out

The church today is largely defined by boxes. Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant. Mainline or Evangelical. Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, etc.

My church has 2 big boxes right now: ‘11 AM Traditional’ or ‘6 PM Coffee House.’ Both are full of dedicated believers who are looking for God. Both share a common purpose in our church mission statement. But we don’t always see each other that way.

Sometimes the AM group seems to think the PM people are trying to ‘take over’ too much too soon, and they are worried that what feeds them spiritually will be taken away in the name of ‘progress.’ Sometimes the PM group seems to think the AM people lack spiritual drive and are only there because they’re used to it. But these perceptions are as wrong as they are harmful.

Here’s the perception I’m struggling with: The other day, a member of the PM shared this experience in a meeting: She had encountered a stranger in the parking lot. The stranger expressed a desire to return to church after a long hiatus and asked if this was a ‘good church’ to try out. Her response as I heard her tell it in the meeting: a semi-disparaging remark about the AM, and an invitation to try the PM.

Now, I don’t know if the stranger said something in particular to prompt this particular response, or if it was a snap assumption based on his race (not white) or appearance (kind of scruffy). Maybe I missed something in this story. But I heard an assumption here: “you don’t seem like ‘their kind’ of people, I don't think you'll ever fit in the AM box, so I’m going to try to put you in my PM box instead.”

The church person in question doesn’t feel fed by traditional worship. That’s fine. And I should state, in all fairness, that some 11AM people would probably have done the same kind of thing had the question come to them. But the reality is that both services serve people from a variety of generational, cultural and economic backgrounds. Some people even attend both. So we shouldn’t be prejudging which side someone belongs on. Maybe we shouldn’t even be thinking of it as two different sides.

We should simply be offering a choice: “This is a great church! We have traditional worship at 11 AM and coffee worship at 6 PM every Sunday. You’re welcome to try either, or both. Or come to a small group meeting on Wednesdays. Or.....” Because both services have something valid to offer as part of the body of Christ.

Opus

I am currently in mourning (again) for the loss of my favorite comic strip character: Opus the Penguin. Whether from "Bloom County," "Outland," or just plain "Opus," he always spoke to me. His creator, Berkely Breathed, has terminated the strip due to the rising level of venom in our nation's political discourse. Apparently, he felt it was no longer possible to have Opus contribute without his anger going over the top.

I love Opus because he could say things regular people couldn't. His innocent indignation at wrongs both great and small was not just humorous, it was priceless. He also lived precariously in that boundary zone between fantasy and reality where I think we should all spend a little time, for our own sanity. And he did it so well.

I have a stuffed Opus in my classroom at school. He is our class mascot. He doesn't engage in political commentary or borderline-adult-world-fantasy-stuff like he does in the comic strips. But he's a class favorite. Just like in the papers, my Opus can say things that regular people wouldn't. And the kids love him for it. Even right up through 6th grade, being Opus' guardian for the day is a treasured job. he even came on our class trips to Philadephia and D.C.!

And I am reminded that even in our complicated postmodern world that can be so difficult for children to navigate - they're still kids. Even 12-year-old boys need a little stuffed-animal comfort now and then. And Opus is so trusting.

Overheard this evening at the Smithsonian Teachers' Night at the National Portrait Gallery:

"Just make sure you all don't take none of that food into none of them galleries."  How many teachers do you think winced at the security guard's grammar?  But her meaning was crystal clear - far more so than many lines delivered by teachers (sometimes including myself) when we are trying oh-so-delicately to discuss a child's behavior without questioning their character.

Seen on a WWII poster in the museum: "We will win, because we're on God's side."  Normally I would say its presumptuous at best, defining what "God's side" really is.  WWII was a rare moment when the answer was crystal clear.  I also found it refreshing - it wasn't "God is on our side," but the other way around.  Many politicians (and regular folk) have it backwards - they put country first, and assume God will come around to us.  

Thought for the day:

If you went back would you find myth dissolving into history or history into myth?  Somebody once said, I forget who, that the distinction between history and myth might be meaningless outside the Earth.  It think it might at least get a great deal less sharp on the Earth, further back.

-- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Notion Club Papers

They're Paying for What, Now?

The D.C. Public Schools has begun a social experiment: they are paying middle schoolers to get good grades.

At a conference in Colorado last week, the Chancellor Michelle Rhee was attacked by an upset participant with the comment, "It's a sad day when we are paying kids to be doing something they should be doing anyway." He had a point.

But she has a point, too: "Yesterday was a sad day, when only 8 percent of our eighth-graders were at grade level for math, and we weren't really doing anything about it."

I certainly get the sense of urgency. Someone had to take drastic measures to start turning the system around. But it shouldn't have come to this. Consider the message she has sent to thousands of students in the D.C. public schools:

"We don't think you'll ever be able to do well unless we bribe you."

One of my core beliefs is that all children can, and want to, do well. That innate ability and desire is often buried deep. It is our job as educators to find it, and unlock it. Having the government officially pay for grades will certainly get short-term results. But the long-term consequences could be horrendous. What if the D.C. Public School System never gets past the short-term stimulus of grade payments - what if this works, and becomes an excuse not to do the real work of education?

I have yet to hear Chancellor Rhee genuinely address the moral and ethical dangers of her plan. I can only hope she will do so before it's too late.

What's in a Name?

Stadiums are named after many different things.  Some are named for people, or streets, or their city, or their team - like my faves, the Giants and the Yankees.  But most nowadays are named for a company that shelled out the big bucks on naming rights

Growing up, we had an arena in Rochester called the War Memorial.  It was a venerable place for a smallish city.  Of course, the time came for renovations, and suddenly... Welcome to the Blue Cross Arena!  Technically, it's "Blue Cross Arena at the War Memorial."  But nobody bothers to say the whole thing anymore.  It's just "Blue Cross Arena."  But to me, it will always be the War Memorial.  (I could question whether a supposedly non-profit public service entity like Blue Cross should be throwing money at an arena rather than at their core mission, but that's a topic for another blog.)  

Around here (Arlington, VA) we've got tons of War Memorials.  You would expect it, what with the Pentagon and all.  But with another Veterans Day approaching, I think it's a shame the rest of the country now has so few.  Sure, there are statues and monuments all over.  But they aren't the major public facilities and landmarks they should be.

The Giants play the Eagles tonight.  Time was, the game would have been at Veterans Stadium.  But no more.  Now, it's at Lincoln Financial Field.  It just doesn't sound (or feel) right.  I'm no Bears fan, but at least they still play at Soldier Field.

Beautiful day today.  Nothing more to say, except that

Life is good in MY 'real America.'

Who hates whom?

I've been following the headlines from around the world, and the upswelling of hope is truly remarkable.  

The last time America experienced such global goodwill, it was an outpouring of sympathy following a massive tragedy.  It didn't last.  But this is different - it's built on something positive.

My second great hope from this election is for America's place in the world.  Our recent bout of global discord may have been just a family quarrel among allies.  Or it may have run deeper.  Our leadership has spent a lot of time drawing lines in the sand ("you're either with us or against us") and exaggerating our differences ("they hate us and they hate our freedoms").  Certainly, there is a small cadre of hard-liners who do, indeed, hate us on the most fundamental level.  But I maintain they are just that - a small cadre.  

The outpouring of good will we have seen this week I think proves my point: most of the world doesn't hate us.  They hate our policies.  They desire the same type of change as us: a move towards more reasoned discourse and shared responsibility.  Now, they have reason to hope.

I want America to have the pre-eminent place in the world.  But that place ought not to based on a fear of our bombs, or an addiction to our money.  It ought to be based on genuine respect for how we use our position.  America deserves not a place of supreme power, but a place of supreme honor.

"Where have all the good candidates gone?"

One of my high school classmates, now a manager at Xerox, expressed this frustration on her Facebook after an apparently frustrating bout of corporate recruiting.  I could go in any of a number of directions on this quote.  Here's today's take:

Hopefully, in the near future, they'll be gone to the civil service.  Not the bureaucracy, mind you, the civil service.  This is more than mere semantics.

The civil service is supposed to be a marketplace of ideas.  The President's role is to articulate a vision, and let the professionals work out the best implementation.  The lower-level workers, those in the field and closest to the problems, come up with creative solutions and present them to their bosses.  The best ideas percolate up the chain of command, ultimately reaching the cabinet-level posts.  Sadly, it hasn't worked this way for a long time in our country.  That's why we call them the bureaucracy now.  

I know many people who work for the government.  Contrary to what some politicians will tell you, these are all intelligent, well-meaning people who came in hoping to serve their country well.  But they been stifled for too long.  The poll-tested, focus-grouped, top-down dictates of successive administrations has stripped them of their creative purpose.  The anti-government rhetoric of successive campaigns has stripped them of their morale.

Especially since 1980, we've been burdened with a movement that insists that government is the root of all evil.  Nothing the government does will ever be successful and we should just strip it all away.  Then, we are astounded when our government continues to fail.  DUH.  How many times can you tell people they're hopeless or incompetent before they give in?  An entire generation of promising minds has gradually succumbed to the mantra: don't bother trying because it won't work anyway.

My greatest hope coming out of this election is not that government will magically solve all our problems.  My greatest hope is that the civil service will once again be an honored place where our best and brightest are empowered to work on possible solutions, rather than be held back by our own low expectations.

Last night, I stayed up hoping the Redskins would lose.  Not to be negative, but I needed the Giants to have a little padding in their lead.  :)  I couldn't go to sleep without knowing the outcome - just had to be sure.  I will admit to a smug sense of satisfaction last night, and a little gloating this morning.

Tonight, I stay up hoping Obama will win.  Again, I can't go to sleep without knowing the outcome - just have to be sure.  I hope to avoid the smugness (though I will still be satisfied).  I hope also to avoid the gloating.  NoVa and RoVa will never get together if we can't learn to win (and lose) graciously.  Joe Biden put it best: don't question their motives.  Question their judgment, question their policies.  But don't question their motives.  

I can only hope my students won't suffer tomorrow from my lack of sleep.

God is Where?

Okay, I won't usually do 2 posts in 1 day.  But the Keillor one was meant to be Sunday's.  Here's today's.

Carol Myers, Chillicothe, OH, explaining why she is volunteering for McCain: 

"I'm 65, and if I do one more thing in my life, it's to put God back in our country" (Washington Post, Nov. 3, 2008)

Really?  REALLY?  I didn't even know He'd left.  Granted, we no longer require tens of millions of schoolchildren to recite the Lord's Prayer blindly, without concern for whether they or their families understand or believe what they're actually saying.  But God is still here.  I know, I see Him every day.

He is in the faces of my students who try every day in spite of their obstacles.  The parents who gave up everything and risked death to come to America and build a better life.  The sun rising (or setting) over the Potomac.  The sermons I hear every Sunday.  I could go on and on - but what do I know?  I live (proudly) in liberal Arlington, VA - where supposedly we all hate God, and the Real America too.  Right....

So how come I see God every day?  The truth is: no matter what the Republican party might tell you, God is alive and well - even inside the Beltway.  And in the rest of America too.  Far more so than we could ever hope to realize.  He certainly doesn't need the endorsement of a mere political party to remain present, and relevant, in our world. 

Which leads me to wonder:  What if God was off-limits in campaigning?  What if we just let God works his wonders without all the political interference on the ground?  God is doing great things all over our country - and many in the GOP won't even give him credit for it.

Let's be Clear

To Michael:

Let's be clear.

- Garrison Keillor

I've had this autograph for 13 years now.  I've often wondered what he really meant.

Back in my halcyon college days, I got to meet Garrison Keillor.  He came to Eastman to narrate a student's composition, and several of us were 'selected' to have lunch with him in the director's dining room followed by a chat.  The lunch was typical college food, but the chat was something else entirely.  The conversation took several unexpected (and highly amusing) turns before it came down to this:

"What was your clarifying moment?" 

 I don't recall who asked first, but ultimately we all 'had to' share one.  I was stumped.  I was the only person in the room who couldn't at least fake my way through a decent answer.  So I just looked at him and said, "I don't think I've had one yet."  He gave me a very empathetic look - not sympathetic (thank God), just empathetic.  He said, "You will one day."  And he gave me the autograph in the picture (sorry it's sideways, I haven't figured that out yet - it looks right on my computer but not on my blog).

Last Wednesday I took a large group of sixth graders to their high school for a special chorus get-together with college, high school, middle school, and elementary choruses combined.  It was a great experience for all, but especially for me.  I saw lots of former students roaming the halls.  Some have been in touch over the years.  Some almost daily, or weekly (mentoring and coaching pay off in contacts).  Some I've gone out of my way to keep in touch with - just thought they needed the extra encouragement.  But many, I've totally lost track off, and I often wonder if they remember me.

So, anyway, I also saw S.  He's a junior now.  I haven't spoken with him for several years.  Very bright, athletic, popular, well-adjusted, an all-around great kid.  But the thing is, truth be told, he never stood out to me in music class.  He always behaved, but I often wondered in the 3 years I taught him whether he was ever really 'on board' with what we were doing - it just seemed, on the outside, like music wasn't really his thing.  Then, last Wednesday, he took me aside in the hall on his way to lunch.  "I just wanted you to know, you were my favorite teacher I had in elementary school.  You're the best."  Something to that effect.

And now, it's all perfectly clear.