Two Reflections

How grateful I was then to be part of the mystery, to love and to be loved.
Let's just hope that is enough.

- "Let's Not Shit Ourselves (To Love And Be Loved)", Bright Eyes


Part One

I am approaching one year since I ended a six-year relationship. That event marked a clear break in my life, the last year being filled with new experiences, new thoughts, new feelings, new people, many different than what my life had been made of the year before. I've been filled with joy at all the wonderful people that have entered my life even as I fight the sadness that results from the ongoing realization that I may have permanently lost a friend.

Part Two

It's the end of the academic year. My life, since before I can remember, has revolved around that year. Given my current job and location in Corvallis, it still does.

I have always struggled to handle the fact that many of my friends will, inevitably and for a variety of reasons, move away, something that happens, also inevitably, in the summer. It was hard when I started college without them around; it was hard when they started graduating; it's hard now, when I'm out of school.

This year, it's been much worse than in the past. I know I'm not the only one dealing with this, but - to invert a question a question I asked of a friend earlier today - how do you communicate the emotional depth and weight of sadness, of a feeling of loss? How can I communicate to others what they mean to me, what I've gained from my time spent with them, what I want to offer them in support and friendship and love, what I've learned from watching them move beautifully through the world? Anything I can think of to say seems wholly inadequate.

Right now, I am at a loss. I only know that it hurts, and that there will be more pain, and that I will make new friends, and that we will share in each other's happiness, and that they, too, will eventually leave, and I will hate the world again for doing this to me.

I am trying to remember how much fun I've had, and what it's like to get together with an old friend, and sometimes that works. Tonight? Not so much.

To be filed under 'reasons I'm not asleep'

I've found that as I get older, it's much harder to simply sit in awe and wonder at the world, to just be and experience the world as fully as possible without trying to interpret or change it.

Sometimes - like now - I connect that difficulty to all that I learned in college (and all the supposed explanatory power that came with it), and I miss feeling like the world is a magical place. I've been feeling that absence a lot lately, it seems.

Of course, this could also be related to a severe lack of time to reflect. I tend to need a lot of that.

Addendum: I've never met anyone who I can identify as sharing quite the sense of hope/wonder/absurdity/cynicism, paired with an overriding sense of the need for justice, towards the world that I do. I'd like to meet that person.

Currently listening to: Lucero, The National, Murder by Death, Tina Dico.

Concurrence

Atrios:

HBO's showing their dramatization of the 2000 post-election fiasco this evening. They were kind enough to send me a screener, but ultimately I just couldn't watch it. I even kept turning off CNN today when they were showing clips.

That whole saga was just really traumatic. It was my "holy shit everything is really screwed up" moment when I suddenly realized that all of our elites - politicians, supremos, and especially the media - did not deserve the modest naive faith that I had given them. I'm not saying that I lacked any cynicism about the various institutions before, but just watching the media piss on our Democracy over that time period was incredibly jarring.

This is pretty much exactly what happened to me. It was a little more stretched out than that, taking place from roughly November 2000 to the summer of 2002, but my normal cynical attitude towards humanity felt like it turned to sheer terror for a few years there at the possibility that all the horrendous shit I was reading about was really happening and that the national media - the gatekeepers, the professionals, the (supposedly) sane ones - were practically leading the charge off the cliff.

Almost seven years later, having been proven largely right (which is not a good thing when you're a one-stop Doom 'n Gloom Shop), I'm a little amazed I'm not a black pit of cynicism. Or insane.

Stare too long into the abyss and all that.

Observation #4 on Subbing in Lebanon: Motivations For Subbing; Or, An Answer To All Those Confused Looks I Got When I Told People Where I Was Working

I expected people to be sort of surprised when I told them I was a substitute teacher.... at a single school... in a place most of them had never been or heard of (this is referring to non-Lebanon folks; most people who still live in Lebanon seemed to think it was a much more normal choice). I did not expect people to be so surprised that they just sat there without saying anything, it being evident from their faces that anything they would have said would have been disparaging (possibly along the lines of “I can't picture you doing that”). That was both funny and frustrating.

So I think it's only appropriate that I take a second and explain, post-job, why I chose it.

1. Let's get this one out of the way, shall? Money. Yes, subbing paid well, and I was very glad it did. I have a rather intense dislike of trading my time for money, but I have an even more intense dislike of not having a place to stay or food to eat. C'est la vie.

But lots of things pay well, especially if one has, um, different ethical constraints than I do. So money was not the only factor.

2. It had/has low barriers to entry. This was a much larger factor than it should have been, but then again, I am much less motivated than I should be (or so I hear). Getting an emergency sub license and applying to work in the Lebanon, Sweet Home and Central Linn school districts was really, really simple. I asked for and received letters of endorsement from each district, sent them, some paperwork, and a check to the state of Oregon, and very shortly thereafter I had a temp/emergency sub teaching license. Filling out the the rest of the paperwork at each district took minutes, and then I was in.

What's missing from this picture? Well, at the least, an interview – at no point did I have to talk to anyone but the HR department of each district. While I appreciated the ease of entry (lazy, remember), I am still a little shocked that anyone with a Bachelor's degree and a clean background check (and nothing else, like classes or experience in education) can waltz into a K-12 school and begin working with students.

Caveat: I gather that the barrier to entry is only so low because many districts, especially rural or semi-rural districts have problems finding enough subs to meet their need. Put that way, it makes a lot more sense. After all, I was unable to sub in Corvallis or Albany – and I assume I would not be allowed to sub in places like Salem or Portland.

I guess I'm also a little surprised at the informality of everything.

3. Justice. Yes, you read that correctly – one of the reasons I felt good about wanting to work as a substitute in a high school was that it presented an opportunity to work towards a more just world, even if in a small way. I am not apologetic or bashful about that. In fact, that was the hope I held closest to me as I was starting work; I held it so close because I was afraid of it being mocked or misunderstood (as critical hope in America often is), and while I still have that fear, having developed a new part of my identity in an educational setting, I'm confident enough now to put that out in the world and defend it.

I want to be precise when talking about this: I do not think I was or am some sort of savior figure that has all the answers. Neither do I think that if I had just found the right thing to say, a student's mind would 'see the light'. Such thinking is dangerous and arrogant – and I say that knowing I fell into that trap on at least one memorable occasion. But I did – and do – think I had the values, experience, knowledge and perspectives that I could bring to the job that, I hoped, would allow me to do good by those I worked with.

My recollection of high school, the academic reading I've done (check out section 3.3 of this entry or this ) and my experience going back and sitting on the other side of the desk all suggest that high school is often a cruel, unjust place. I wanted to try and pierce what I perceived as the sense that such cruelty was either normal or justified; answering whether or not I was successful was and is for me incredibly difficult, though I learned to accept the not-knowing.

I also wanted to try and talk to students, even if in a small way, about things that I thought needed to be covered in high school but were not: Race, class, gender, critical thinking and challenging assumptions (these, of course, being very much related to justice and the presence of justice in the lives of students). If education is to be empowering, to be more than simple training, more than learning to be obedient to authority, then these need to be addressed – after all, students of high school age are already addressing these things in their social circles, already encountering all kinds of media messages on these topics, and I fear the result if no space is created that allows them really examine what they're hearing (and absorbing). I tried to create that space in the gaps, and it was a lot of fun.

One of the best experiences I had was during an exercise in which I started talking to students (at the teacher's request) about barriers to academic success and what both students and teachers could do to help them succeed (folks who know me will recognize that this is right up my alley). One of the end results of what ensued was that the student teacher came up to me after class, amazed that a particular student had talked during the discussion; apparently this student had not said a single word in that period all year long – and he had been very vocal during the discussion.

To put it another way: It is my belief that human beings are socialized in such a way as to restrict our ability to have compassion for others or to be empathetic. The fact that we treat each other poorly based on external or supposed characteristics (race/ethnicity, gender, social class, etc.) as a result is, to put it mildly, not a good thing. I would much rather see people learn how to put themselves in the shoes of another; I think the result would be a world with a lot less anger and hate. Anything I can do to work towards that goal – such as model compassionate behavior to high school students or the use of language that furthers, rather than hinders, communication – is a good thing.

One of the results of my beliefs, feelings and attitudes regarding subbing and justice is that it made leaving feel flat-out unethical, like I was somehow wronging the students I would no longer work with. I throw this out there not knowing where this comes from or why I feel that way – does the hive mind want to take a guess? (One thing I hope it's not: the savior complex I tried to avoid.)

Finally, I know that I am not alone among educators in relating education and justice. However (and this is where I think being a sub had a negative effect), with very few exceptions, I never heard a teacher or staff member talk about why they teach, about what they hoped to achieve by teaching (much less be explicit about their hopes for justice as a result). I would have liked to see those things foregrounded a lot more; I think education professionals need to be talking about them constantly, if for no other reason than that educators will have different reasons for being educators, and reaching an understanding about them (if not a consensus) is very important to being successful in providing a coherent and consistent experience for students.

Observation #3 on Subbing in Lebanon: Let's Talk About One's Emotional Investment in One's Work

There is no debating that I became emotionally invested as a substitute teacher. What is debatable is how much, and in what ways, and what that means.

How much: Um, based on my emotional stability during the last two days of work (the only two in which I was sure I was not coming back), I'd say I was pretty heavily invested. I was pretty shocked to figure that out – not only was I only there for just parts of two different years, but I was just a sub, right?

Right – and wrong. Regardless of my official status, the fact remains that I became emotionally invested in the success and failure of students and the health of their environment. I believe that the benefits of this outweighed both the costs and whatever negative opinions other might hold about my experience.

A qualifier: I don't think I ever became so emotionally invested that I made bad decisions in terms of my actions. I may, however, have said some unprofessional things on occasion.

Also, I believe that being emotionally present and available on a day-to-day basis is one thing that allowed me to do well. More than one student claimed their basis for wanting me as a sub was because I “actually listened” to what they had to say. This was heartening to hear personally, but given that I didn't give much, if any, more leeway in enforcing the rules than other teachers (as far as I know), it does not suggest that students feel listened to. It does suggest, however, that students know when they are being taken seriously (even if the ultimate answer is “no”) and when they are being casually dismissed or lied to (the former being worse than the latter, I think).

When considered in the context of long-term teaching, I think it's absolutely necessary to develop a personal connection with students – as long as “teaching” is defined as something more meaningful than babysitting. (This holds true for every single subject, by the way, even things like math or P.E.; remember that we are ultimately talking about student learning and development, which is something that can and should occur everywhere and anywhere.) And developing those personal connections does require that the teacher in question make themselves vulnerable to being hurt by their students. It's not honest any other way.

That said, I don't think it means that teachers need to wear their emotions on their sleeve. That is problematic for a whole bunch of reasons. It's also a nice play for professionalism to come into play, or at least those parts of professionalism that allow professionals to maintain a certain neutrality.

Remember, I found that allowing myself to be emotionally affected on some level by students made the work immeasurably more meaningful than it would have been otherwise. And making work meaningful is a prerequisite to doing a good job, I think.

My subbing can be divided into two distinct periods: Spring 2007 and Fall 2007. The first period I was far more miserable as a sub and debated quitting multiple times. I was also resisting investing more than a certain amount in the work on the grounds that the students were cruel and capricious as well as LHS being a very sexist/racist/homophobic environment on the whole (and yes I will talk more about this later; these are not words I drop lightly).

Something changed over the summer, and I decided it was worth throwing myself into the work regardless. I am happy to say that it paid off, and the work became much more a source of energy and light than a drain of same. I'm even halfway convinced now that I did something meaningful at some point when I was there, though I'm probably not the best person to be the judge of that.

One last thing, something that I am hesitant to include.... and that is that it was necessary to refrain from telling students that I was personally emotionally affected by them. That was not a realization I was happy about it; part of me wanted to tell them that they had affected me, sometimes substantially. But I didn't. As it was reiterated to me: It's OK for students to be unaware that you care about their well-being... and trying to force that recognition can be dangerous.

Observation #2 on Subbing in Lebanon: How I Was Viewed By Students, Teachers and Staff

When I first jotted the above title down, I had not even included the bit about teachers and staff – and when I did realize to include it, I also realized that I considered what students thought of me far more important (or, at least, that's what was implied by the order in which the questions came to me).

For a second, I was worried that there was something wrong with valuing student opinions so much – or more than those of teachers. I worried that I was conflating how much students liked me with how much they respected me.

Mixed up in that was the realization that a certain amount of student approval was necessary for it to be possible for me to do my job – and that a further helping would make my work a lot easier. (And, of course, that good reports from students would encourage teachers to ask me to sub for them again... which is not a good incentive, is it?)

Truth be told, I am still a little unsure at times what motivated some of the things I did.

That said, however, the more experience I got the easier I found it to refuse student requests and demands and the easier to exert my will. I don't know if this was because I was learning or because I was slowly burning out (meaning that I had less patience to work with students vs. use my LCSD-granted authority like a club spiked bat). At this point – without more perspective – I don't really know.

As far as students were concerned, I left the job sure that I was very well-liked by students. When it comes to teachers, I suspect there was a pretty good variety of opinion.... though of course the same problem arises here as it did with my desire for feedback: I was the only staff member in the room 99% of the time, so no other teachers really saw me at work.

I know I got lots of compliments from teachers, but I also got the sense that there were several teachers who did not want me subbing for their class, for what I assume were a variety of reasons (the existence of this blog likely being one of them). There were also, of course, a large contingent of teachers who really didn't care as long as nothing went horribly wrong when I was in the room.

I hope that my predilection towards the student end of the question comes from the fact that I think working with students is the most important part of the job.

Observation #1 on Subbing in Lebanon: Formal Evaluation & Professional Feedback

I received no formal or organized feedback from either teachers, students or administrators. Neither did I receive any formal training or orientation before I began work.

It should go without saying that at the least the school district should be providing some sort of orientation or training for substitutes new to the district, regardless of whether or not we have completed a teaching program. After all, I'm not talking about training in how to teach (or even 'manage student behavior'), I'm talking about answering questions like “where are the staff bathrooms?” and “what's this school's policy on hall passes/bathroom breaks/food in the classroom/cell phones/disciplinary actions/verbal harassment/etc?” I learned most of that from the students I was supposed to be overseeing or from other teachers when I needed to know. Sometimes I just pretended until I could figure it out later, and sometimes I ignored the rules completely.

Granted, there was officially something in place – usually either a “sub notebook” to be provided by the teacher that contained info on bells schedules, evacuation routes, individualized student plans, allergy/medication warnings, etc., or something similar to be provided by the office – but it was weeks before I knew either of those existed, and I would estimate that I was provided with those things no more than 25% of the time. Often I would dig the notebook out myself when I got to the classroom only to find that it had not been updated with anything really useful (like who was deathly allergic to what).

The idea that anyone with the right paper qualifications can jump right into the classroom and survive be successful is not a good one. It reflects the almost-always-unspoken assumption (though I tried to vocalize it to both students and staff with varying degrees of cynicism and success) that substitutes are not there to ensure that students learn anything or otherwise progress with class curriculum, but that subs are there as babysitters (which is a whole separate post) or because state law mandates it (in the cases where there was an instructional assistant in the room, they were uniformly more qualified than I was to deal with the issues of the day).

I did plenty of actual/attempted teaching (especially in math, har) and plenty of babysitting – and over time, I began to think more highly of teachers who expected me to teach a lesson or otherwise arranged for students to spend their class time in something resembling a productive fashion. I know that sometimes it's hard to figure something constructive out when one has to leave on short notice, but students know their time is being wasted the entirety of the lesson plan is either a video or loads of questions from the book (especially when those things only happen with subs).

Anyway, back to the lack of preparation.... while I think it shouldn't even be negotiable that new substitutes get some sort of orientation (the relative benefits and consequences being pretty evident), I understand that selling the idea of an exit interview or formal evaluation isn't so straightforward.

Formal Evaluation: This has benefits for both the school and the substitute. For the sub, it is professional feedback – and since many subs are aspiring teachers, I would hope that a chance to get such feedback would be seen as a good thing. For the school, it demonstrates professionalism and a serious concern for the well-being of students (i.e. that the district is actually interested in getting and retaining good subs – and even helping them improve over time). Also, this can be done when a sub leaves the district (assuming they announce their departure) or at the end of the academic year – say as part of the process of having subs renew their intent to work in the district in the next year.

Exit Interview: Again, this can be filed under 'professional development' on the part of both the district and the substitute. For me, having taken no education classes (ever!), it would have provided some feedback as to how I did, or at least a chance – desirably – to talk to an education professional about what I did in the classroom, what worked, what didn't, etc. From the district's point of view, it allows the district to get feedback on what their schools and classrooms look like from the outside – especially if the sub in question has training to be a teacher.

I know the counter-argument here is something like “but subs aren't there on a day-to-day basis, so what could they possibly know about my school/classroom/situation?”

That's just wrong – first of all, some subs are there quite often. Second, did I mention that the point is to get an outsider's perspective? I'm not suggesting giving undue weight to the outsider – merely that the more perspectives that have input into a situation the better.

Anyway, I wonder if other districts (maybe in larger urban areas?) have anything like this in place. I think it would be a good idea if Lebanon looked into instituting something along these lines.

Informal Feedback

Speaking of feedback.... I did get informal feedback that came in two related varieties. The first was from students: Either they liked me or they didn't (and often had no qualms about telling me to my face which one it was and why). The second was from teachers (and the occasional non-teaching staff member) and it almost always went something like this: “The students seemed to like you, so you must be doing something right.”

While both were gratifying, neither really got at whether or not I was any good as a substitute teacher, at least not completely – and I say that because I observed that students are more likely to work for an authority figure they like than one they lack respect for.

I realized pretty early on that one reason I never got more formal feedback is that I was almost never observed by anyone over 18 years old – so who would be qualified to give me professional feedback?

While the autonomy was fun, I'm not sure it is the best way to go about things, especially from the perspective of a parent: “You mean my kid is in a classroom with some random person with a BA in an unrelated subject?! How is this person even qualified to teach my kid?!

I always sort of waited for that moment to arrive, it never did.... for better or worse.

Observations on Subbing - Introduction

Over the next two days, I will publish four extended observations dealing with my time as a substitute teacher in Lebanon. These are both personal and professional, written partly for me and partly for the general public.

Given my tendency to be wordy, each will be a different post.

Your responses - via email or comments - are very much desired, especially if you have first-hand knowledge of what I'll be talking about.

Note: I am aware that one possible reaction to these posts could go something like this: “Get over yourself. You were just a glorified babysitter.” My reaction to such comments, if they contain no content beyond ad hominem attacks, will be to delete them with prejudice. I knew that spending my time babysitting teenagers was a distinct possibility going in, and I worked to make sure it became a reality as rarely as possible.

More Tools for Communication That Might Apply to Lebanon

I dug some handouts out of a binder from a training I attended once - and I still think they are some of the best concepts around to start to understand how our own communications styles and how they effect other people. I'd like to try and explain the two main concepts contained in said handouts in this post - but beware, this is first in terms of format for me, so I'm not sure how this is going to turn out. Plus, it turns out I'm a really bad lecturer in all formats.

I should give credit to Eric H.F. Law, who I believe was the originator of these. Also, much of the language is taken directly from the handout with little to no modification.

Concept #1: Power Distance Communication.

These can be separated into High and Low Power Distance, but I should note that they are a continuum rather than two discrete forms. Also, it should be noted up front that one person is not bound to one particular style, but can both change over time and change depending on the situation.

High Power Distance: Individuals who view the world with a high power distance believe that there is inequality in the world and accept that as a fact of life. Signs of high power distance may include (1) a lower trust level, (2) higher levels of desired protocol, (3) a desire to figure out the role of everyone in the room before participating, and (4) a need for more context before action can be taken.

How HPD can play out: People who are high power may have to work harder at building a safe environment (which is necessary for open and honest communication); they may be happier if they are together rather than interspersed with low power distance folks, at least at first. High power folks are more likely to be concerned with "what's in it for them." High power people have little tolerance for folks who think everyone in the room is equal. Finally, since lower power distance folks think of low-level high power folks as weak, said low-level folks may get run over quite a bit initially.

By the way, these attributes are generally understood as applying to group work, the workplace, etc - how folks interact with each other in social situations. In this case, think of a school board working group, a staff meeting at the district office, or even a teacher's meeting in one of the academies are Lebanon High School.

Low Power Distance: These folks believe that power is shared by many and high power people are either elitist (if they are at the top) or weak (if they are at the bottom). Lower Power Distance people may (1) downplay the importance of hierarchy, (2) have a low level of protocol, (3) feel that people should try to look less powerful than they are, and/or (4) feel that people can also gain power through education.

How LPD can play out: LPD folks may simply speak out rather than raise their hands or follow other protocols designed to maintain or maximize order; this may result in their dominating discussions. If a discussion enters the realm of difference, low power folks may show disdain for comments that either valorize the rich or anyone else at the top of a hierarchy.

Examples of these: I would think that something like a law office would be very high power distance, as it contains lots of hierarchy. Certainly military training can create situations that are VERY high power distance, with strict protocols surrounding peoples' roles and who can say what, and when, and to whom. I would think coaches also often follow a high power distance model, with an insistence on everyone knowing the ropes and rules, especially those governing who is in charge (always the coach).

Now contrast that with a group of teachers that get together for lunch every day. Yes, they are aware that some of them have more seniority than others, but by and large, the potential exists for the space created to be one in which everyone is treated as an equal, and formal rules governing the group can be tossed in favor of informal (and sometimes assumed) rules.

I don't mean to imply, however, that something we might normally think of as high power distance can't be low power distance. A staff meeting with teachers, administrators, and district office officials present can turn out to be a very low power distance affair.

And, of course, I should note again that these are concepts that generally apply to people's perspectives; as a result, you might find yourself in a group made up of folks who are all over the continuum and have very different ideas about how the group should or does work. How those perspective mesh, conflict, and play out is often very different, even with the same group meeting multiple times. The point is simply to be aware that different people view the protocols and practices of communication differently, and moreover, that these views can change over time and in different contexts. As a result, I think it's important to pay attention to where you are at on the Power Distance continuum as well as where others appear to be at. It can prevent folks from talking past each other, or getting embroiled in disagreements about how to communicate rather than what information needs to be communicated.

Concept #2: High & Low Context Communications

This concept goes really well, I think, with the first. Context Communications is, essentially, being aware of how much context is transmitted between people along with the information that's going back and forth.

High Context Communicators: When people communicate, most of the information is either in the physical context (body language) or internalized in the person. Therefore, implicit messages are critical. High context people may struggle initially in a new setting as they have to reorient themselves within the new shared context.

How this can play out: A high context communicator might feel the need to speak uninterrupted to get their point across; this may take some time, making others impatient. They may also need more extensive directions put in a context they can work with.

Low Context Communicators: These are pretty common in U.S. society. The low context individual values the explicit codes and pays less attention to the information embedded in messages. They will often need little contexting time; they feel that they can confront new situations with requiring a great amount of time and detailed programming; finally, they may have difficulty functioning in a high-context environment where contexts are constantly in play, since low context folks often are often unaware of their internal context.

How this plays out: Basically, low context folks just want the answer (think more "yes/no" than the "why"). They don't want all the context, which they often perceive as extraneous or wasteful.

When I was introduced to this concept, I was asked to envision a tower. At top of the tower is the piece or pieces of information that need to be communicated between people. The rest of the tower, the foundation, the framework, all the floors up to the top - those are the context that is needed for the information to make sense. A high context person will often feel the need to communicate the entire tower from the bottom up before communicating the information itself. The tower is the contextual information that is perceived as required for the desired piece of information to make sense. If the person listening interrupts, this can be perceived as a need to build a bigger tower - to include more contextualizing information along with the desired information, because it suggests to the high context person that the questioner didn't really understand what was going on.

Needless to say, this can be infuriating for low context folks who just want a 'yes' or 'no' or other short answer.

The way I understand it, low context folks tend to assume the shared context, the tower, between people or groups. As a result, low contexters tend to view all the other communication, the tower-building, as a repetitive waste of time.

It was mentioned above that many folks in the U.S. are low context. I would argue (and it's here that I out myself as preferring high context) that what this indicates is that folks in the U.S. feel like they have a shared context in which to understand and master new information. Personally, I consider this a bad assumption in any group, much less larger groups that may contain people from significantly different backgrounds.

In fact, when wedded with power, I consider low context communications to be one way in which things like white or male privilege are manifested and transmitted: People of color and white women are expected to share the context created by the privileged white male while not being allowed to change or modify the "shared" context at all. Then the "shared" context is considered universal. It can work this way when any kind of power differential between individuals or groups is present, even if all the folks present are, say, white guys - there are certainly other axes along which power is transmitted.

Again, as with the power distance concept, the context communications concept is something that both exists on a continuum and is very mutable and flexible. One person can change over time in the way they communicate, and they can also change depending on the situation they are in. For example, a group of really close-knit friends or coworkers may have developed a shared context around certain subjects over time, allowing their communication to be successfully low context. On the other hand, some of those same folks may adopt a high-context attitude with their students, or in larger staff meetings. Similarly, groups of professional and classified education staff may have their own shared context - but it's important to remember that the context-building in this case needs to be a self-aware and self-conscious process; otherwise, it's easy to get back to that point where a shared context is assumed, and that becomes a barrier to communication.

Concluding Thoughts

I think both of these concepts have a lot of potential when it comes to Lebanon and the problems that have plagued it over the last decade. Certainly there are genuine differences of opinion when it comes to pedagogy and education policy, but (and this is especially true of the last several months) those differences hardly ever get really aired, since communication is, I think, so incredibly poor between folks right now.

Sitting down and thinking, as an individual, about where one falls on these continuums, especially in what contexts, and even thinking about where you think other people fall, is also a good first step to learning how to communicate with one's coworkers and other educational staff more effectively. I know that folks often want to resist doing the internal and introspective work that I'm suggesting, but I cannot express how important that work is: One cannot make others change. One can only change oneself and try and support others as they do the same.

Lebanon Truth wrote a post in which they criticized Rick Alexander (rightly, I think) for not being willing to sit down and read a book on how to be a better school board. While I think the choice of book is hilariously (and seriously) appropriate, I would argue that in addition, what is important for the currently disparate and contentious group of five individuals that are trying to oversee the LCSD is that they take the time outside of board meetings and working groups to get to know each other as people and develop some sort of shared context, some common ground (and maybe some shared values), which they can use as a basis for their work in the future. I have the feeling that Rick Alexander has no intention of doing something like that, as it would require him to actually a) learn about the rest of the board, and b) open himself up to them. But relating to other human beings on a personal level is, I think, a prerequisite for being effective in a work-related situation.

The Only Bush I Trust is My Own

During my recent Internet hiatus, I read a lot, just sort of whatever was at hand. One of the things I read - quickly, since it's a short book - was Periel Aschenbrand's The Only Bush I Trust Is My Own. It's a quick read filled with a no-bullshit attitude and a dangerous sense of humor. There are two passages I wanted to highlight from the book that stood out to me:

From page 190:

[Walt] Whitman said: I am large, I contain multitudes, and I wallow in my inconsistency.

Perfect. Internal coherency is overrated, anyway, not to mention nearly impossible to achieve. We are human, after all.

The second passage, from later on the same page, is Roland Barthes on what he termed The Fashion System:

Fashion is a social fact; those who exclude themselves "suffer a sanction: the stigma of being unfashionable."

I'd never thought about it that way before, but I think Barthes is essentially correct. I think that goes a long way towards explaining the tension in my style of dress: Just acceptable enough not to be noticed.

Anyway, grab the book some time if you can. It's pretty funny, especially the first section.

Geeks and Wonks and Politics, Oh My!

Brother J passed on this article, claiming it somehow relates to me. I can't imagine why he would think such a thing:

[Policy geeks] are no less fascinated by detail but are drawn to ideals. Observation alone bores them. They are drawn to the prospect of change. They don't want to be players as such; they question the very rules of the game and want to change them. They are happy to make a difference in the ideological infrastructure, whether big or small. They tend to work alone and totally disregard caste distinctions...this means that the geeks are drawn to ideas, even radical ideas. They can easily imagine what doesn't exist, which makes them dreamers and entrepreneurs. And so they are attracted to and study history and philosophy and economics...They thrive on making information public, on smashing old structures, breaking cartels, and busting monopolies of power.

I'm more than a little flattered, or maybe it's just me being egotistical. Who knows. Nevertheless, I wholly endorse the article, and, I must admit (with some help), see a little of myself in the wonk part, especially this line:

Political wonks are fascinated by process.

I am less proud to admit I see myself in this passage:

They thrive on meetings, small victories, administrative details, and gossip about these matters. Knowing who is who and what is what is the very pith of life.

On the Reading

A list of books I have read in 2007:

Irish on the Inside, Tom Hayden

On Truth, Harry Frankfurt

The Way We Argue Now: A Study in the Cultures of Theory, Amanda Anderson (yet to finish)

The Dispossessed, Ursula K. Le Guin (for the third or fourth time)

The End of Utopia, Russell Jacoby

The Last Intellectual, Russel Jacoby (yet to finish)

Kiss My Tiara, Susan Jane Gilman

Iran Awakening, Shirin Ebadi

Full Frontal Feminism, Jessica Valenti.

How the Irish Became White, Noel Ignatiev.

Books I have acquired and not touched:

Rhetorical Grammar, Martha Kolln

Environment and Society, Charles L. Harper

I think there have been a few more, but these are the ones I remember at the moment.

Also, writing them down makes me realize how many there are. I often feel like I don't read that much, but seeing this list makes me feel a lot better about what I do read. I know, I know - it doesn't compare to many people, but who cares?

I had also considered doing reviews on the blog for some of the books on this list, but I realize now that reading with a review in mind and reading for pleasure and comprehension are two different (perhaps three different) things for me. Sorry!

Finally, see the two books I've yet to open? By far and away the most academic of the books I've obtained (I found them on campus in a discarded pile). I don't think that's a coincidence. The Jacoby books and the Anderson book are also pretty dense, but so were Irish on the Inside and How the Irish Became White, so I don't think that I'm avoiding dense books, just academic ones. That college still has such an effect on my reading says something about college, I think, or at least my experience with it. I was a pretty voracious reader of books before college; now, I tend towards blog posts and news articles. I've also found that the reading schedule in college totally wrecked my reading comprehension. I need far more time to properly absorb material I've read.

Please feel free to leave a list of books you've read in 2007, or even just over the summer, in the comments. I would be really interested in seeing that. Thanks.

UPDATE: I also read Remembering Tomorrow: From the SDS to Life After Capitalism, by Michael Albert.

An Uncomfortable Car Ride

Last night, as the partner and I were driving home from Portland, we stopped at a gas station just off the freeway in Wilsonville. I usually stop there for a snack and a drink to keep me alert when I'm driving back at night from Portland.

As we got to the onramp to get back on the freeway, I saw a a woman who looked roughly my age with her thumb out, trying to hitch a ride south. Making a split-second decision (and checking with the copilot, who really didn't have time to do anything but stammer 'sure'), I pulled the car over and got out. As it turned, she was not alone - there was a guy sitting about 20 feet up the road who I hadn't seen at first. They put their bags in the trunk and off we went. They made small talk for about 15 minutes - where you from, what do you do, this is why I'm hitchhiking, etc. - and then fell asleep.

Anyway, we gave them a ride all the way to exit 228, where they promptly woke up, got their stuff, and headed off into a field to camp. Since they had started in Portland, the ride we gave was 60 of their 80 miles of progress for the day, something that made me feel good.

Here's the thing, though, and the reason I'm posting about this at all: the whole experience was really, really uncomfortable for me. And, as far as I know, the copilot. I was actually on edge for a bit after they first got in the car. They were trying to make conversation, but we were both pretty tired. We answered minimally, and after 15 or so minutes, they fell asleep - but I didn't relax.

All sorts of weird scenarios were running through my head, the big two being: 1) What if we get pulled over and they have drugs? and 2) What if they do something dangerous? (I should note that we saw at least 4-6 police cars with lights going on the drive down - they seemed to be out in force last night.)

I had no rational reason to think of either scenario, but I did. Constantly. It was frustrating, because based on everything they said, they were really nice folks who had made conscious decisions to travel cheaply and explore the world - a stance I wholly support. Nevertheless, I was at least mildly nervous until the last mile or so before they got off.

I'm chalking at least part of my being uncomfortable, and probably most of it, up to some screwy socialization and lack of experience on my part. But it still sucked.

I also found myself thinking that they were so eager to have a conversation at first because they felt pressured to entertain the people giving them a ride, an assumption that I had challenged at the end of the ride when I realized they were just doing what they always did - trying to get to know people. That was a major part of the reason they were traveling, after all.

All in all, it was an experience that was both unsettling and gratifying. And to be honest, if I had seen the guy before I stopped, I probably wouldn't have pulled over. The idea of giving a lone woman a ride was far more appealing than giving a ride to two people, one of whom is a man. Not to mention that if they had been much older than us, I would never have stopped. I felt safer having two of us and one of them, and having that one person be a woman, and having them be a similar age. Not because I don't think a woman is capable of doing something harmful, but because as a lone woman traveler, she's less likely to have reason to.

Yeah, I know - that's also fucked up. But it's what went through my head. Thoughts?