My grandma tells me that she would have gone to law school, if it had been an option for her. She went to the free city college instead and became a secretary and excellent typist (if you want to see my grandma laugh until she cries, play her this video over and over).

Everyone has favorite stories, and I think about my grandma’s. The year before kindergarten, she would fold her picture books under her arm and walk to the neighborhood school with the older kids; that’s how excited she was to be a student.

Another one: My family took baby-me to Washington D.C. and when we got to the hotel, they told us that, despite the reservation, all the cribs were taken. My parents tried to work it out but there was an impasse at the check-in counter until my grandma leaned in and told the hotelier, “Well, I guess you’ll have to go out and buy her a crib.” After that, they were able to find something for me.

When I want to advocate for something I channel my dad, who once just sat in a person’s office and frowned at him until he started taking the action my dad was looking for, but I know that in fact he channels his mother’s frown. My grandma is in general a wonderfully pleasant person, but she knows how to argue on her family’s behalf. It’s obvious she could have been a great lawyer.

The fact that she didn’t have that opportunity didn’t ruin my grandma’s life - she is awesome anyway - but it means that people missed out on the chance to be represented by her.

A few weeks ago, a colleague came up to me and said, “So, you really don’t like sexism, huh?” He asked me if I was a classical music fan, and when I said no he still told me the story of Robert Schumann, a 19th-century composer who married another composer named Clara. He told her to stop composing once they married, but according to my colleague some of Robert’s best work included pieces of Clara’s compositions. “Just think of the beautiful music we will never get to hear,” he told me.

I care about educational equity out of compassion for the students who are not getting the experiences and chances at success they deserve, but also out of selfishness. When we don’t universally develop critical thinking in children, when we avoid conceptual understanding in favor of quick algorithms, when we stomp out creativity in favor of docility, when we rely on outdated textbooks and overstuffed classrooms and undersupported teachers, we rob ourselves. We lose a doctor who could innovate treatment, an entrepreneur who fills a hole we lack the vision to see, the poet who might give us just the shift in view we were waiting for.

Pretty sure this book spawned my lifetime fear of apathy. I often have the problem of caring too much, and I want it to stay that way forever. Never want to be eaten by the lion of no passion or direction or empathy.

Don’t really know how I wasn’t raised on Really Rosie, but discovered this video a couple months ago and made my history classes watch it apropos of absolutely nothing. It was great.

I had some extra time with my sixth grade history class today, so we talked about the State of the Union address. I had some definite favorite and least favorite parts (though I was watching by myself, I said both “blech” and “thank you!” out loud over the course of the speech), but I wasn’t sure what to think of Obama’s educational vision of forcing kids to stay in school until they graduate or turn eighteen.  So I asked my students how they thought we should be addressing the high school dropout problem.

These were some of my favorite thoughts to come out of the team proposal-writing process (remember that these are 11/12-year-old kids):

I agree with Obama that dropping out should be illegal because it affects everyone if they have a hard time finding jobs and supporting themselves and it might lead to crime. Usually I believe in letting people do whatever they want if it doesn’t hurt anyone, but this could actually affect other people.

(Our resident libertarian spent a long time seriously thinking about this one, and may be on the way to changing his world view.)

Kids are committing suicide because they hate high school so much. Why would we force them to stay if it’s so stressful for them? There should be a way for them to continue their learning outside of school, online or something.

(For some reason, his groupmates thought this was ridiculous. I’m pretty sure they weren’t listening.)

Sometimes people drop out because their families need the money. There should be a special high school for adults who need to go back and finish when they’re thirty.

(I love how ancient thirty is to them.)

They should only be allowed to drop out of high school if they have a really good reason and good grades. They would have to apply with their guidance counselor. If their grades are really bad, they should be given a tutor instead of dropping out.

(This group said doing poorly in school does not count as a good reason to leave - if you have bad grades, they thought, you need school all the more)

Teenagers don’t know how to make good decisions. They shouldn’t be allowed to quit school.

(They know what they’re becoming.)

People who want to drop out should have to take a class about what could happen to them if they don’t finish school. Or at least listen to a talk about it.

(Can’t wait for these kids to encounter the joys of motivational speakers at high school assemblies)

Wow, no one in our group has ever gone to a public school. We are a bunch of spoiled brats!

(No comment.)

(Okay, actually, I told them that private school doesn’t (necessarily) make them spoiled brats, but I was impressed they were challenging their worldview and pushing towards empathy.)

Crying.

Click on the letter to read more of this lovely correspondence, courtesy of Letters of Note.

Children can have such good ideas!

- Sady Doyle

As a teacher, my (traditionally female) profession often seems to demand selflessness, and I have also unreasonably expected it of myself. This take-down is so on target. I would also add that during my most ‘selfless’ summer, my “unhealthy and unhappy life” made me less able to best serve the kids I was trying to be selfless for.

I have never had a problem advocating for the needs of others. During that sadly selfless summer, my dad told me that if I would stand up for someone in my position, then I need to stand up for myself. I have used that idea to guide me toward self-advocacy, but I know it’s ridiculous that I need to think that way at all. Shouldn’t I automatically know that I deserve to be treated right, by others and by myself? This time, Patriarchy has made strange bedfellows with the do-gooder world (in cahoots more often than you would think) to teach me that my needs don’t matter. Thanks buddies!

My student Jack just finished (and loved, of course) one of my favorite middle-grade books, The View From Saturday, and was on the market for a new read. Jack is fun and hard-working, and generally tries to be a good kid. He loves to read about young people struggling, so I handed him The Great Gilly Hopkins, a classic about a saucy girl trying to get kicked out of her foster home. He took one look at the cover and said,

“I don’t know, I think this book looks too girly for me.”

Now, if the cover was cotton-candy pink and covered in princesses and fairies, I might think it was too ‘girly’ for me too (though I would enthusiastically recommend it to the (male or female) fairy-tale lovers in my class). However, this cover features a scowling child in overalls and plaid. The scowler is a girl. I guess any book about a girl is too girly? THANK YOU PATRIARCHY for teaching our boys that girls’ stories are beneath them. I can only imagine how many great books Jack has missed out on so far.

Clearly, I called shenanigans and ordered him to give it a try, supervising as he reluctantly placed the book in his backpack. Commanding someone to keep an open mind has never failed, right? RIGHT???

- “What Is It About 20-Somethings?”

My elementary students recently had their first day of school, and I was chatting with one of the parents before class started. She was surprised to hear I had gone to graduate school to get my teaching credential. “You mean, this is real for you then,” she said. “It’s not just something to do?”

I had to summon all my energy to just smile and nod, because, WHAT??!?

One of my top complaints about Teach for America is that while the organization does a lot to glorify its program, it does nothing to encourage respect for teaching as a profession. Instead, it fosters the attitude that teaching is a cool thing for smart people to do as an in-between thing. Thus, the New York Times referring to the decision to teach in urban public schools as “forestalling the beginning of adult life,” in the same category as “avoiding commitments” and staying “untethered.” Just FYI, world, teaching requires a nearly inhuman commitment, and nothing can tether you like 30 nine-year-old kids counting on your instruction. Kthnxbai.

This disrespect of course gets along well with our best friend the patriarchy because of the historical undervaluing of traditionally female-dominated professions. Teachers, nurses, and secretaries are not taken seriously – if men take one of these jobs, which all require education and expertise, it’s a punch line. THANKS PATRIARCHY for treating my passion like a joke.

In case you are still confused, my choice to become a teacher was NOT about: settling, sacrifice, sainthood, or stupidity. I teach because I find it challenging, invigorating, rewarding, hilarious, and important.

No Ma’am, it is not just something to do.