Not While I'm Teaching

My nephew turned 18 recently. We had his family birthday gathering last night. It was a joyful event. My mother likes to start current events conversations; since we are a family of educators, she inquired what we thought about the idea of teachers being armed. I was the first to speak up and unequivocally stated, "It's bullshit."

Yes! Stand united against the idiocy, goats!

I'm not as angsty this week as I was last week, but I will not mince words when it comes to the stupidity that is arming teachers. Good guys with guns has been debunked. Even when good guys with guns are on premises, that doesn't help especially when they don't even go into the building. Asking teachers to potentially kill a student they know is asinine. Asking teachers to leave their room full of students to go hunt for a shooter is asinine. I've even heard that some who think teachers should be armed should pay for the firearm and training themselves. That's no surprise. That's how current continuing ed credits work. Enroll, work, pay for it, submit transcript, and then you can move on the pay scale. But it won't cover the investment you made in its entirety; not right away. But hey! You need a gun, so suck it up and go! you gunslinger you. I completely resent and rebuke the whole idea of being armed.

I. Will. Resist.

I've said since the first time this idea got floated in the populace that I'd quit before I'd work in a school where teachers concealed carry. It's not that I don't trust teachers who have carried and used weapons safely for years, but it's a variable that I didn't sign on for. It's asking for a student to get that gun and kill someone or kill themselves. An accident waiting to happen isn't out of the question given the number of accidents that occur with young children finding guns. There was a 3rd grader recently who fired the gun of a police officer who was doing a presentation at the kid's school. Yeah. Got a policeman's' gun and fired it. Widespread concealed carry near children is a good idea.

No need to tell me. I know it's bullshit.

Of course, then comes the question about what the hell I'd do if I quit. Well, I'd strike and work to repeal that law first, but if those didn't work? I guess I'd seek or start my own non-profit to fight the practice. I'd also look at starting my own private school.

Well, maybe not the greatest, Rob. Stop. You make me blush.

*bats lashes with faux modesty*

I know enough teachers and retired teachers around here who are opposed to the whole idea. I think we'd get more than enough staff to start our own in-house or in-community schools. It could start small like the old one room school houses of old. I'm not sure if we'd have to start under home school laws or if we'd have to find another way to start up. But I'd seriously look into how'd it work if a stupid law like concealed carry happened here.

It has merit, Eric.

It's not a far-fetched idea in Montana. The concealed carry that is. A bill was proposed a few years ago for just that purpose, but we fought it off. I'm sure it'll come back around now that guns in schools is popular again. I know some states like Texas already allow for concealed carry with teachers. The notion terrifies me. A student finds it and uses it on others. A student finds it and commits suicide. A teacher panics and shoots at the wrong person. A teacher shoots and the ricochet harms an innocent. A teacher commits suicide in the school.  A teacher fires and gets hit either by another teacher, the active shooter, or a law enforcement officer. None of those scenarios seems like a good basis for education.

Stupid.

However, starting a small, privately run home school kind of situation sounds lovely. No state and federal mandated testing. No Texas book and test companies driving curriculum and policy. Freedom to connect with students and parents without all the bullshit. Authentic learning opportunities to explore the world and community around them. Self-guided education plans.
Nature walks to teach parts of speech--what do you see around you?
List the things you see. Those are nouns.
What are the nouns doing? Those are verbs.
Where is the noun? That's a preposition.
It'd be glorious to get out of the building to explore and understand. Going out to play and develop balance and nurturing friendships rather than taking recesses away as punishment or being slaves to the mandates rather than the student needs.

Freedom . You got it right, Bob. Freedom and happy little trees.

I know elementary literacy teachers who'd leave. I know history teachers who'd leave. I know math teachers and health teachers and media specialists who'd leave. We could do a type of block schedule where we'd do one discipline in the morning and one after lunch and maybe another in the late afternoon. We could do all disciplines for the basics and maybe only specialize with things like music, art, or other highly technical content. We might have to rely on grants to get supplies and start up fees going. We'd have to be wide open to all students--not exclusive and for the privileged. We'd have come full-circle as far as education is concerned.

New career option or physics lesson? Hmmm...

Of course, not all states would do the concealed carry thing. I can't imagine that the federal government would insist on all schools since the whole local control is the goal of conservatives--they want to do away with the department of education ya know. I suppose moving to another state would be an option, if not for the whole selling a home, finding new doctors, and leaving family as well as the potential for the guns to catch up with the exodus of teachers. Just because the state doesn't have the policy when you move there doesn't mean it won't eventually.  I don't think there's enough space in those states who would refuse the concealed carry idea. Oregon couldn't take us all.

Make haste!

I don't understand the argument being made for this armed teacher nonsense. I don't know that I want to understand it more than I do. It's just horrible policy. I can't shake the feeling that it's a distraction from the other politics like the investigations and the Russian tampering and rollbacks on other important environmental regulations etc.

 That's right. Look here, not there. It's magic.

Regardless, I really hope the teens in Florida keep doing what they're doing.
I hope they make people listen.
I hope they effect the change that is needed to keep all children and all Americans safer from the violence.
I hope we won't be having this grief and loss again before something is done.

I hope I don't lose hope before things change.

Of course, I could always use the opportunity to go study dance in places that have strict guns laws. Right, Moose?

If You Think This Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Fuck You

I'll be honest: I didn't post yesterday because I didn't know where to even begin. I am still processing all of the information from this week. I have no fucking clue what to do with it all, but I know that being witness to an owl this week would not break me out of this stupor.

Nice try, Goats. Not even your adorable selves can break this one.

Frankly, I'm pissed. I am pissed that this keeps happening and we just wait for it to blow over until next time. One of my friends said that she doesn't think we're complacent. Bullshit. Yes we are. Not just us, but those bought-and-paid-for politicians in Washington who feel more of an obligation to their NRA buddies than to the youth and people of the country. I am pissed at anyone who feels that we can't or shouldn't do anything because it won't do any good anyway. Fuck. You. If we couldn't do anything, it's not because the changes wouldn't work. See Switzerland. Shifting the conversation to mental health doesn't work. Changing the conversation to more guns = more safety doesn't work. Check out the Scientific American article "More Guns Do Not Stop More Crimes, Evidence Shows".  Fuck you if you think more guns does.

That's right, Dexter. If not this day, then when?

I'm pissed at anyone who tells me as a teacher it is my obligation to be armed and to attack any armed intruder. Do they teach armed intruder training in undergrad programs now? They teach continuing ed courses for teachers that encourage assigning jobs to students to barricade and be ready to attack any intruder into the classroom. Seriously? Not only are the children and educational professionals now to be accustomed to lockdown protocols, but we also have to be trained in police procedures? We also have to have more guns in school in order to feel safe and to fight back apparently. Tell that to the small town about 2 hours away that had a school shooting when I was in 6th grade. Tell that to the school where I taught for 11 years that had a credible shooter threat 3 years ago. Tell that to the people at the school where I currently teach where a student committed suicide in the bathroom when I had been teaching for 5 years. Tell that to every school that has had to find a way to keep going after tragedy. Fuck you. Until you've had to look at a classroom of scared teenagers when an unannounced drill is called, shut the fuck up. Until you have to sit on the floor and look at your class and wonder who you can save if anyone, fuck off. Until you have to sit there and wonder what if you couldn't save them all, fucking sit down. Until you have to question whether or not you would fight or flight in the face of an armed intruder intent on killing all the people you are supposed to care for between the hours of 8am and 315pm, fucking close your pie hole. You don't get to speak here. You need to fucking listen to the people on this front line. It ain't you, so fucking get off your soap box and open those NRA stuffed ears.

Show 'em how it's done, Basset!

Furthermore, I am pissed at the people who are telling the Florida teens who are planning a protest march and who are organizing to be the change they want to see in the world that their efforts won't do any good. How dare you undermine their actions to suit your fucking gun-loving position or your defeated, helpless attitude. Just because you've given up hope in this fight doesn't mean you get to take away their fight. They have skin in this game and they deserve to have it out in the public arena. So sit down; get out of their way; fucking watch and learn.

Hmmm. An elephant sitting down. How quaint.

Additionally, I am pissed at all the rhetoric on both sides. Automatic weapons ban is not the same as semiautomatic bans. Guess what? Semi-auto means many people dead even without modification. Modifications guarantee just as many dead. Guns in the hands of law-abiding citizens isn't the issue: Fuck off! As one blogger I read today said, every citizen with a lawfully obtained gun is a lawful citizen, until they aren't. Stop equating guns to cars. One is meant for death and one is meant for transport. Fuck you if you can't tell the difference in this false equivalence argument. Stop listening to the wrong sources of information. If it's connected to the NRA in any way, it is biased. If you can't identify the author, the credibility of the site, the footnotes, or the citations, disregard it and look somewhere else. Fucks to the Russian bots that were mobilized in the wake of this tragedy. You are making it harder to have this conversation. Readers in America, think critically and fucking sort it! Don't draw comparisons between the US and Australia. That argument isn't working; try something else. 

And hopefully you won't die first, Kenny.

I am pissed at the people who think this can all be handled just by being compassionate and teaching our young people to be more inclusive. While I think this a great individual practice and what I follow at school, it's not going to solve the problem any more than the tiresome anthem of thoughts and prayers. I read a piece that sociologically speaking, there is now an environment of school shooters who identify with each other; they've found where they belong. They feel a connection in their worship of past shooters. They see a way to find their identity by being the best school shooter. They belong in the group because the past members set an example to emulate. Read The New Yorker article "Thresholds of Violence".

Oh, I have an idea Benedoop Cumbersnoot.

I am pissed at the people who think they can't do anything. Fucking keep trying. You owe it to the young people who survive. You owe it to the young people currently going to school every day wondering if today's the day they have to face the guns. You owe it to the memories of those who've died. You owe it to the families who grieve. You owe it to the educators who get maligned every day. You owe it to yourselves since schools aren't the only places where shootings happen. Fuck off if you are going to give into your despondency rather than standing up and shouting so loudly that people can't help but listen.

Pikachu, I choose you.

Last week, one of my students sighed heavily at the end of class. She was reading an article about Florida. She said she had watched a video of the bloodbath where people were on the floor in pools of red. My student looked at me without words and a longing to make sense of the situation; I couldn't soothe her worry or offer her solace and a way to understand. Another student woke her mom up the next day and asked what mom's views on guns were. A friend's daughter gets so much anxiety over lockdown drills, that she has to be moved to a safe room until the drill passes. But this kind of trauma is ok. Anyone who has learned about trauma's effect on the brain knows better.

The gun cult has sentenced the young people.

Their brains are now damaged, assholes. They now have even greater risk of chronic illness in addition to social-emotional disorders. You happy?

Listen to the voices of the young people. Look into the faces of the young people.
If you can do those things and still wrap yourself in the iron clad second amendment right, then fuck you.

Fuck. You.

Stand up, Moose! Don't let the bastards grind you down.

Bird of Night

Thursday morning I went to heat water in our microwave so I could make coffee in the French press. Except, the light didn't come on. Weird. I closed the door and started the timer. The timer and clock worked, but the actual heating did not. Gorrammit! Had to heat water on the stove. (I know: first world problems.) Not a beautiful start to my day. Luckily, it got better.

Don't be so skeptical, Goat. 

I left for work a tad later than usual that day and more than a wee bit grumpy about the microwave. As I turned the deadbolt, I heard the distinctive woooo hoooo of an owl. I stopped and looked up just in time to see an owl fly low overhead. I could see the tufts of its "ears" outlined against the royal blue of the clear sky. Its incredible wing span striped and stretched as it glided. It gave me pause and stopped my breath. I stood there for a few seconds just reflecting on what I saw.

I mean look at that majestic power!

I'd been in a funk all week. A colleague got fired for something truly terrible that I can't really discuss beyond that on an internet platform. A kid got suspended for bringing a BB gun to school. We had an assembly that day. The possibilities of that not having been a BB gun just reminded me of how precarious our sense of safety really is. Along with that, my migraines ramped up their attack. Nausea, dizzy, flashy lights, and the pain kept getting worse all week. This time, they weren't fizzling the way they had after the Botox. It was a depressing week all around.

Seriously depressing, RDJ. Seriously. Depressing.

But then, there was that little woooo hooo of beauty. Did you know owls represent all kinds of things beyond wisdom? Being nocturnal, they are mysterious and magical. In ancient times, an owl was said to rest on Athena's blindside so she always saw the truth. In some Native American tribes, warriors would darken the area around their eyes believing that it would bring the ability of the owl to see at night. Owls also attune to the feminine energies of the moon. Not to mention Rush's "Fly by Night".

Oh yeah! That's all you, Owl. 

I consider myself truly fortunate to have witnessed the owl. I haven't seen one in our neighborhood in a few years. Whatever its role in the universe symbolically, it turned my grumpiness around to wonder. A dose of wonder was just what I needed.

It's OK, Moose. I'm sure you'll see one, too.

Imbolc: Celebration of Hopes and Dreams

Apparently it is Sports Bowl Day. I have not the faintest interest in who wins. We are, however, going to my sister's house for a gathering and birthday celebrations. My sister and brother in law both have birthdays at the end of January, so since none of us have a strong interest beyond the half-time show, we're going to eat cake. Before this day, I enjoyed a whole week of migraine free bliss and fantastic dreams leading up to Imbolc.

7 days, no migraines. It was exactly like that, goats.

Imbolc is really one of my favorites of the year. I look forward to it because the sun is starting to rise as I am going to work instead of finally being up by the end of first period. The sun off the snow is a brilliant radiance. I love the idea of Brigid being the all encompassing deity. She rules all realms and guides everyone from metal workers to poets. Truly a remarkable woman who couldn't quite be eliminated in the transition of world views. I'm really not in the whole belief of deities mind you, but Brigid is an interesting one to me. She rather reminds me of all the beauty around us and the strength of female presence in the world. She's really one of those whose mythology would be fascinating to delve into more deeply.

Yessiree, Stephen. Nerds rule!

Anyway, because she covers so much of life and embodies a lot of what I aspire to, I feel connected to this time of year. I have had vivid dreams this week. Some might say it's the convergence of Imbolc, full moon, eclipse, and blue moon energies all coming together, but who knows? It could just have been my brain functioning on another level since the migraines had abated for a whole week. 

7 days. Just gonna keep saying that. 7 Days.

I've had some truly amazing dreams this week. One involved humpback whales. I swear: One day I will see them up close and personal. Until then, dreams like the one I had this week will have to suffice. I and some other nameless people were walking along on a two lane road that wound on the very edge of the water. Suddenly, I saw whales in the narrow strait. They were so close we could touch them and see their knowing eyes as they looked back curiously at us looking dumbfounded at them. It was one of those breathtaking dream moments. I saw one breach off in the distance, but one dove in front of me and waved its tail at me. I got playfully splashed, too.  I was giddy. I awoke from that feeling so free and at peace. Of course, later that day I looked up whale symbolism in dreams. A tail of a whale means that you are emotionally balanced. Ha! I laughed out loud...perhaps a snort, too.

Can you even conceive of how glorious this would be IRL?

This week is also the anniversary of Poofus' death. I miss that guy. He was a wonderful familiar and friend. I always find myself thinking about him around Imbolc. I came home Friday and paused to gaze at his burial place in the herb garden. The day he died was awful and traumatic. It makes me a little anxious about losing any of our current three fur buddies, two of whom are very senior in age. But Poof visited my dreams this week. I felt him quite closely and we played with his favorite feather toy. He rolled in nip and got it all over his soft, gray-black fur. We cuddled and played and then he was gone. I called for him, but I knew he had left. I awoke being thankful for the dream time together, but still feeling the loss of him in our home.

Love you, Grumpy Ol' Man.

Another evening this week, I fell asleep considering my own dreams; not the slumbering kind, the "what do you want to do" kind. As I drifted off, I thought about how lovely it would be to travel the world and study dance. I have no interest in formal dance like jazz or ballet, but I think folkloric dance would be the ultimate dream job. Different rhythms, different intents, different costumes, and different cultures. Ah! How lovely it would be. Not performing or getting accolades or being accused of appropriation, but true immersion into a culture to understand the role of dance in their lives. I saw a meme once about how a person went to the healer and said she was depressed, lost. The healer's response was to ask when she stopped dancing. I love that idea. Dancing is good for the heart and freeing for the mind. Both in dream and in reality, dance is the time I feel most at peace with myself and the world around me.  It's presence out of time and place. Just like a dream.

Ah! To see through your eyes, Vincent. Sublime.

I suppose until we win the lottery or decide fuck it! and pull up stakes, this is where we are together; not some dreamworld where whales, Poofus, and dance envelop us. That's ok. I will listen to "Here Comes the Sun" by George Harrison, light a candle in each room, and let my dreams flow in the river of time and space during the season of Imbolc. It can carry me wherever it sees fit and sustain me through the season to come. While I can't bring Poofus back, I can plan for the whale watching and the dance trips to other countries. Until then, dreams can take me where I need to go.

That's OK, Moose. If you don't want to dance, you don't have to.