Gossamer Tightropes

As a moderately conservative (yeah, I know that's probably not a technical political category, but it works for me) public school teacher and mom of four, I am often caught in the middle of various social and educational controversies of various types and intensities.

    Work outside the home or not?  
    Breast or bottle feeding?
    Write the note to opt your child out of school sex ed classes or not? 
    AP classes for the experience or Honors or Regular classes for the higher GPA?
    Teachers' unions - evil or necessary?
    How many extracurricular activities for each child, if any?

And now, one of the latest bugaboos in the public eye: 

Common Core - 
pro or con? 

As a woman and a Christ-follower with a bent to question and doubt, my responses to those controversies are often internally angst-filled and sometimes even wishy-washy, yet externally, my responses are often self-righteous, loud, and borderline obnoxious. Side note: my sweet daddy, in the midst of family discussions about politics, education, or ethics, will just smile and shake his head and say things about me arguing with fenceposts and whatnot.  Love him so much.

"We're women; we have double standards to live up to."  

I'm reminded of these great words from Ally McBeal as I think about these seemingly never-ending debates. This double standard, for me, is not so much about the glass ceiling as it is about the fragile, glasslike tightrope I have to walk as a public-school-teaching mom.  Personally, I have to keep going even when there is no more energy left and when I know the things on my never-ending list are only going to get half-done. I do not have it in me to NOT fulfill an obligation I've made, and although the years - and my oh-so-laid-back husband - have curbed my tendency to say "yes" to every request, the obligations are still overwhelming and they MUST. GET. DONE. With excellence.  Oh crap, that's right, excellence is not going to happen because of the length of the list and the fact that I require sleep at some point . . . so the disappointment settles in as I critique this lesson and that meeting and yet another awkward conversation in the grocery store aisle.  So, I walk the never-ending, diaphanous line.  I want to be involved with the things my kids love and cheer on the sidelines and make nutritious meals and do Pinterest projects and be a teacher who does her work with ethics and excellence and . . . and . . .  there's absolutely no way to "have it all."  I tell my 16 and 17-year old female students this every semester (so far I haven't gotten in trouble for it...).  Yes, girls, you can do anything and be anything in the world you want to be, but if you also want to be a mom, something's (a lot of things) gotta give.

Likewise, professionally, I must buy - and sell - the "party line" of supporting all things public school, while at the same time longing, at times, to be homeschooling my kids and teaching my daughters (and sons!) to sew and cook and plant a garden.  I believe in public education in the most basic and heartfelt ways, yet I do not wear rose-colored glasses when it comes to its downsides.   I am fortunate to teach in a district that holds high standards for students and teachers, yet my children have had some years in school when it was all I could do not to march into the classroom and yell "What in the world are you doing?  Don't you KNOW how to use an apostrophe correctly?  Don't you KNOW that my child knew how to do that two years ago and you should be challenging him/her every moment of the day?"  And of course, I realize that's all ridiculous.    At the end of the day, I believe my children were and are God's before they were and are mine and the grace-filled promise that He has them in His hands, sheltering them in the "cleft of the rock" is much more crucial than where they are sitting or who is at the front of the class while they work algebra problems and write essays.

We all are guilty of both bowing to and enforcing double standards.  We want high standards, but we also want our child to be on the Honor Roll.  And that's probably just not possible unless he or she demonstrates the miraculous trifecta of high ability, self-discipline and passionate interest.  Or unless the work is not challenging enough. Or unless (excepting learning disabled students) parents help him or her with his or her homework or projects on a regular basis, which in my mind, is much more damaging than any curriculum.  Yup, there, I said it.  Just this morning, I read a lengthy comment thread on our local paper's Facebook post asking about the Common Core standards controversy.  In five minutes of reading, I read comments which ran the gamut from "CC is so easy the next generation isn't going to be able to read or add single digit numbers" to "CC is so difficult that my child feels like a failure right now and no child is going to be able to succeed."  So, which one is it?  Is Common Core implementation the pre-dawn darkness of the American educational apocalypse or is it a unifying ray of light helping educators move forward, hands clasped and heads high, as we proudly teach our students critical thinking skills?

Well, I don't really know, to be honest with you.

All I can tell you is that if a parent EVER had a concern about an essay, novel, memoir, poem, or play read in my classroom I would respect his or her viewpoint and we would sit down together to find a way for his or her child to accomplish the same curricular objective with another work that the parent found acceptable.  I also hold to the fact, however, that students can handle more than some parents give them credit for.  Abuse, neglect, psychological struggles, existential doubt, relationship struggles, health crises . . . the real, hard lives that are led by students even in a "good" school system like the one I work in make me simply want to cry some days.  They all KNOW about these things and tragically, some of them are living them.  In the personal essays my students write at the beginning of the semester, I've read about everything from molestation to cancer to bankruptcy to moving 12 times in 10 years.  I cry.  I hold their papers in my hands and pray and cry.  And sometimes I hold students back after class and let them know that I heard them and that I'm sorry and that if they need anything to let me know.  And sometimes they do.

In my opinion, reading Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye or John Steinbeck's East of Eden (or even Rick Bragg's All Over But the Shoutin'  - yep, that was my sole parent protest this school year!) is not going to taint a high school student's mind or unduly influence his or her worldview or political leanings, especially if a concerned parent were to read along with his or her child and TALK about the content, style, and tangential related issues.  In some cases, I dare say that thought-provoking literature might do more to point students in the right direction than other things they are exposed to, with or without their parents' knowledge.

A student's mind is bent to sin and selfishness - just like mine and yours -  and reading about the devastating results of racism, sexism, incest, death, or moral corruption is yes, perhaps going to disturb students, but along the way, and more importantly, they will also learn to think about and grapple with these issues in a way that's meaningful and transformative.   Disclaimer:  I do not teach The Bluest Eye.  I don't think I can do it justice and honestly, I would be a bit scared to try.  And I'm not scared of much.  However, I do teach Macbeth and not once has a single parent complained about the multiple murders, sinister manipulation, political backstabbing.  Yeah, Shakespeare pretty much already covered all the bases as far as evil plot lines go, yet of course parents want Shakespearean works included in their child's education - and rightly so!  Please note that I am choosing to NOT comment on math standards seeing as how I do not know much about them, but the nebulousness of SOME materials being chosen from CC-related offerings is both good and bad, in this teacher's book.  I also know that there MUST be a learning curve if algebraic concepts are going to be offered in younger grades, so the first few years of implementation might be frustrating.  Explaining answers logically and critically is much harder than carrying out mathematical procedures.  Having a perfect, obvious answer is not possible in most areas of life, now is it?! Hmmm, kind of what this post is all about . . . !  Yes, I know parents have apparently pored over poetry worksheets and don't "get" why the answer is "B" instead of "C" and are raising Cain because of it.  You know what?  The key might have been wrong.  Or there might be room for both "B" and "C" to be correct - GASP!  Or the teacher might need to throw out that worksheet (teachers choosing appropriate curriculum materials is a post for another day...).  But, either way, an incorrect answer on a poetry worksheet is NOT the end of the world and it should NOT (so long as it's up to you . . . and parents, it IS ultimately up to you!) formulate your child's self-worth.  Should you voice your opinion about curriculum?  Absolutely!  If there is never ever another question he or she misses regarding poetry interpretation have you won the battle?  I think not.

When I taught middle school and led the annual 7th grade trip to Washington, D.C., I once had a parent who refused to let her 13-year old daughter go to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (why she even signed her up for the trip when the USHMM was clearly listed on the itinerary is yet another mystery...).  The mom finally decided to buy a plane ticket, come to D.C. for the day, and sit with her daughter outside the museum for the three hours we were there for our tour.  Yep.  Indeed.  More money than sense, I say.  She also required the social studies teacher to come up with alternate lessons for her child whenever slavery, genocide, or any mistreatment of a people group was discussed in class... Yep.  When I asked the mom if she was going to ask the same thing of the 9th grade World History teacher when they discussed the French Revolution (you know, the guillotine thing is kind of hard to leave out), she was adamant that because her daughter would "be in high school then," that she'd be able to handle it, no problem.  Sigh.  No, I'm sorry . . . you can be 40 years old and not be able to handle the HUGELY hard things in life if you haven't slowly, with the loving guidance and support of parents and teachers and even friends, made it through the LESSER hard things in life and come out on the other side saying "I made it through" (yes, I'm hearing Barry Manilow's "I Made It Through the Rain" in my head right now . . . that's how my brain works . . . ).  Sorry, back on track now . . .

As I've entered my mid-40s, I've realized that (1) it's too late to go to law school so I can get paid to argue, and (2) I'm probably not going to change the minds of many folks, no matter how masterfully my rhetoric is presented.  So, what's an opinionated and somewhat well-informed woman to do when she also wants to show compassion and follow the lead of the Holy Spirit?  That indeed, my friends, is the question of the day.  And of so many of my days. And as I reflect on all the controversies, and "spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways" (Eliot), I still don't have any clear answers.

Do we need to even be on the tightrope, some might ask?  Shouldn't we just hold hands and sing "Kumbayah" so that the Common Core controversy and mommy wars and picketing parades would just end.  Perhaps singing would help.  It worked in "The Sound of Music" . . . But ultimately, we are selfish and self-centered humans who believe our way, our view, our tightrope is the BEST.  We just KNOW our little darling could make As and feel good about himself if that evil Common Core wasn't a part of our school. Or we just KNOW that those "people" who can't achieve under Common Core instruction just need to get out of the way and let our child shine because "to the victor goes the spoils."  I've been there.  On both ends of that crazy spectrum, neither of which is pretty or fair or Godly.

One thing I can say with confidence after almost 19 years of teaching and 20 years of mothering is that there is so much more to achievement and so-called success than a grade or a ribbon or a degree.  I'd much rather our kids learn how to function with frustration or even failure and "keep on keeping on" than to always be "the best" (whatever that means).  Our 12-year old who is a stellar and self-motivated reader, carried an F (like a 30-40 average) for the first month or two of seventh grade because he "forgot" to take his summer reading project to school to turn in and his teacher wouldn't take it late.  Broke my heart, because he actually did read the book and probably had as good of an understanding of it as any child in his class who got a 100 on the project.  But, he forgot.  And we let it go and just NOW, in February, does he finally have a B in English.  He'll more than likely end the year with a B and you know what, that's okay.  He learned a lesson that I have no doubt will serve him well in the future and he knows without a doubt that he alone is responsible for turning his work in.  Our youngest has had a hard time with CC-based quizzes and worksheets in English this year in second grade.  I'm not sure if it's going to get better or worse, but I do know that I'll keep glancing at her papers (glancing, not obsessing or questioning) and telling her how proud I am of her hard work, ignoring the 74 or the 82 because I know that sometimes there are learning curves when new skills and concepts are introduced.  She loves school, she loves to read, and she is not scared to try new things.

Our oldest son is our most independent, rebellious kid (I have no idea who he got that from...ha!), and honestly, he drives me crazy most days because he doesn't have much concern about making good grades unless he is personally inspired by the subject.  But, last summer, he built a stand and an entire pump and filtration system (from scratch) for his 100-gallon saltwater fish tank with zero guidance from us (and only a minimal bit of power-tool related assistance from his dad).  It was amazing!  But while he reads animal-related blogs for hours, he currently has a "B" in Biology.  Go figure . . .

While we push them to reach their God-given potential and work hard, grades or honor society memberships do not define our kids - nor do they define our parenting.

Praise the good Lord for that.

I have friends on both ends of the Common Core debate who earnestly believe that their viewpoint is not only correct, but morally superior to those on the other side.  Those who believe that too much governmental meddling in local education matters puts us on the slope to a full-fledged Communist state posit themselves opposite those who believe that CC standards are both useful and necessary to move our country into an educationally competitive position on the international stage - and not many on either side are making moves to sit down at the table and talk sensibly.

What are we teaching our children when we act this way?  To engage in civil discourse?
  Or to"bunker down" with our "like kind" and see who can outshoot the other side?  
  Or to aim for fake-smile peace at all costs?
  Or to look for the "bogeyman" behind every tree?

I do believe, as Susan B. Anthony wrote, that "[c]autious, careful people always casting about to preserve their reputation or social standards never can bring about reform." So, in my heart of hearts, I want to defend, to rebuke, to correct wrong or skewed opinions (or at least the ones I perceive as wrong or skewed).

But the way to do that is not so clear and that tightrope is indeed fragile.