Next stop:

THE ISLAND OF MISFIT TOOOOOOYYYSSS!

My Dad says that all the time, not just at Christmas time. It's from that stop-motion animated Rudolph movie that I've seen about a gazillion times. Jess put it on in the background while we put up our tree and lights. I never realized as a kid how uncool-ly the movie treats disability. Poor, Charlie! Check it out below. Mom, where were you on this one?



But seriously, that's kind of a whack message to send to kids about differently-abled folks (Toys, I know. Whatever.)

Snow. Bummer.

the epigraph to a book I bought today

When I dare to be powerful --
to use my strength in the service of my vision,
then it becomes less and less important
whether I am afraid.

Audre Lorde

shameful

I am reminded by the article below of how grateful I should be to have grown up in the family that I did. (Um, family, before you get all big-headed, you should know I'm talking about Conor, here. But seriously,) we were taught that you take care of those who can't take care of themselves no matter how difficult it may be to do so; because, it's the right thing to do. I wish that kind of thinking were more pervasive.

from today's Wall Street Journal

Hard Times Hit Home for a Band of Five in Illinois
Stuffed Animals are Packed in Boxes; Victor Wilhold's Uncertain Future

by Clare Ansberry

HIGHLAND, Ill. -- Five friends, one blind, another an amputee and all developmentally impaired to some degree, are losing their home here next week.

Community Link, the nonprofit agency that runs the group home, can no longer afford to keep it open. Its main source of funds, the cash-strapped state of Illinois, owes it $1.4 million. Positions have been consolidated and spending has been cut back. Last week, John Foppe, Community Link's executive director and himself disabled, went to the local bank and begged for a new line of credit to make his payrolls. Even if it's approved, the home will be closed.

Highland group home resident JoAnn Webb holds Victor Wilhold's hand.

Movers arrive Tuesday. The five will end up in three different homes spread around the county. Their belongings -- mainly clothes, stuffed animals, puzzles and little ceramic statues -- are being packed in boxes.

The agency is trying to make the move smooth but acknowledges it will be disruptive to everyone, particularly Victor Wilhold. Mr. Wilhold, 59 years old, is the eldest, chronologically, but the most childlike of the five. Born with Downs Syndrome, he is largely nonverbal and functions at the level of a three-year-old.

In the past, when his routine was changed, he grew reclusive, retreating to a darkened closet with an assortment of toys, according to his sister, Mary Harris. "I'm afraid he will go back into his shell," she says.

Over the years, he and the other four residents -- three women and one man -- have formed their own makeshift family. Sometimes they bicker. One is stubborn, another feisty and another is a mother hen. But they also care for each other. If someone is sick and can't go to a movie, the others vote to stay home.

Ms. Harris asked Community Link to keep this little family together in their next residence, but that would mean displacing other people there.

What is happening in this southern, largely rural corner of Illinois is echoed around the state as a history of low funding for community living collides with the economic crisis, forcing drastic cuts. People with disabilities are being moved into larger, unfamiliar settings or spending their days idle because vans no longer take them to sheltered workshops to do jobs for pay.

The residents of the group home in Highland, Ill., which is closing Dec. 2.

"Even in decent economic times, Illinois was not a state that funded people with developmental disabilities to the extent that other states have," says Lilia Teninty, director of the state's Division of Developmental Disabilities.

Illinois came in dead last -- 51st -- among all states and the District of Columbia in providing small residential settings for people with developmental disabilities. In terms of overall spending for community programs, it ranked 43rd.

Community Link hasn't been paid by the state since July for many services. Mr. Foppe and his staff whittled budgets, eliminating small bonuses, rug cleaning and renovation plans.

Although helpful, those cuts weren't nearly enough. Reluctantly, he decided to close the Highland house.

It was the smallest of six such homes, which has meant more freedom, privacy and choice for residents. It was also the most expensive to run for those same reasons. Moving to something bigger is a step in the wrong direction, Mr. Foppe says, but he has little choice.

Having been born without arms and learning to use his feet to drive, eat and dress, Mr. Foppe isn't easily discouraged or frustrated. But he is becoming both. "Even a sponge can only hold so much water," he says.

Chris Gebke, who runs Community Link's community-service programs, had the delicate task of figuring out where to move everyone. Jane Webb, who is legally blind and prone to seizures, needs a private room so that she knows where everything is and doesn't trip on a roommate's belongings. Her furniture must line the walls. Her shoes and slippers need to be tucked under a desk.

Smoking Break

Lorraine Cousino's family wanted to make sure she could go freely outside in her wheelchair and smoke a cigarette after dinner. That meant moving her to a house with a garage so she would be protected out of doors.

JoAnn Lange wanted a house close to a nursing home so she could volunteer.

Victor Wilhold used to carry dozens of stuffed animals from room to room. Now, he leaves them on his bed. Above, Mr. Wilhold and his favorite bear.

Ms. Gebke met with employees of the homes, reviewing seemingly small but important details. Allen Korte has a special shampoo. You have to let Mr. Korte make the coffee in the morning or he gets upset, she told them.

Even with all the details in place, she worries. Ms. Lange will be leaving her hometown, where her 78-year-old father lives. The highest functioning resident, she learned to use public transportation to volunteer at the local nursing home. She has cancer and her support group is there.

She cried when told of the move. "All my relations are here. I'm originally from Highland. Now I've got to move my routine," she says.

Ms. Cousino says she will miss the neighbors, especially the boy next door. She met him when he was three and has watched him grow into a teenager.

In 'His Happy Spot'

But it will likely be hardest on Mr. Wilhold. His sister, Ms. Harris, says he was shuffled through a series of inappropriate settings after his parents died, including a nursing home for old people. And he was put on medications for conditions he didn't have, for reasons she doesn't understand. He came to the Highland House in 2002.

When he first arrived, he kept to himself and his stuffed animals, carrying dozens of them throughout the day from room to room. Renae Donohoo, who works at the home, couldn't get him into the van without putting a Tigger from "Winnie the Pooh" there first.

"Now he leaves his animals on his bed," she says. "He doesn't need them because he's in his happy spot," referring to the house.

He didn't speak growing up, but lately has been saying a few words. "C'mon old lady, let's go," he ordered Ms. Lange.

The others here are protective of him and have come to understand his gestures. When he taps his mouth, he's thirsty.

Ms. Lange leads him by the hand up the driveway when he gets off the bus, and buys him 3 Musketeers bars. After dinner, Mr. Wilhold accompanies Ms. Cousino to the garage for her evening smoke, opening and closing the door for her and her wheelchair. Of the five, she is the most outspoken, but with Mr. Wilhold she is gentle. Outside, she gives him one earpiece of her MP3 player so they can both listen to Elvis.

"I don't how it will be for Victor," says Ms. Donohoo. "He has his own little room here. It will be a big adjustment after all these years."

Fortunately, she says, he will share a bedroom with housemate Mr. Korte, which should make it easier but by no means carefree. Mr. Korte likes to go to bed early. Mr. Wilhold can stay up. Mr. Korte keeps his room immaculate. Mr. Wilhold doesn't.

This weekend, the five friends will celebrate Allen Korte's birthday with his favorite dessert, chocolate cheesecake. He will sit at the head of the table, as he always does. He will have to adjust to new seating arrangements at his new house.

Write to Clare Ansberry at clare.ansberry@wsj.com

There's no such thing as "reverse racism."

I can't handle it. Motherfuckers, it doesn't exist. Yes, there can be prejudice harbored by a person of color and directed towards a white person, but prejudice is different from racism. Racism involves both prejudice and power. It's a systematic privileging of some and disadvantaging of others. I like the way that Beverly Tatum explains it in her first chapter of Why are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? She uses this anecdote:

"I once asked a White teacher what it would mean to her if a student or a parent of color accused her of being racist. She said she would feel as though she had been punched in the stomach or called a "low-life scum." She is not alone in this feeling. The word racist holds a lot of emotional power. For many White people, to be called racist is the ultimate insult. The idea that this term might only be applied to Whites becomes highly problematic for after all, can't people of color be "low-life scum" too?

Then she goes on to discuss the problems that come with throwing around the word racist to mean all sorts of things other than what it is, which is systematic "prejudice plus power."

I know lots of white people -- and not-white people actually, not to say it's White and Other -- who equate racism with "mean," and so are sure that they're not racist. They're good people. But they are racist. If you participate, whether actively or complacently, in a system that advantages some and disadvantages others based on their perceived races, then you're racist. If you actively work against that system, then you're anti-racist. There's no neutral. That doesn't mean that all racists are jerks, but it does mean that we're dealing with a lot more racists than we want to acknowledge.

Like this schumck, responsible for a lot of McCain's campaign ads:

Good advertising men are almost always mischiefmakers at heart, the sort who don't mind a little confrontation and who revel in a bit of controversy. And so Davis is wistful at the missed opportunities of the McCain campaign. "I made a list once, which no one will ever see, of all the reasons that my hands were tied on this campaign," he says. "And I've never had a list this long." One of his biggest struggles, Davis says, was to come up with negative spots against a historic, groundbreaking candidate without stepping on taboos. "One of the big hands that I felt was tied behind my back was [that] so many things — like [Obama's record on] crime — you would logically do were perceived as 'Oh, we can't do that. That was playing the race card,' " he says, adding that the campaign created a whole series of crime attacks against Obama that were never aired. "Reverend Wright? 'Oh, can't do that; they'll say we are playing the race card.' [William] Ayers? For the longest time, 'Oh, can't do that. We're playing the race card.' "

Davis says that concern about race played a major role in the entire aesthetic of McCain's ads. The photographs of Obama that the ads used, for instance, which often showed Obama elongated and smiling, were carefully selected, he recalls. "We chose them with only one thing in mind, and that is to not make them bad pictures because bad pictures would be seen as racist," Davis says. "How many shots in their ads did they use a John McCain [photo] looking decent and smiling?" He says the campaign also agonized over the music in the ads, paying special care not to play drum-heavy tracks that could be seen as an African tribal reference. "We were held to a totally different standard," he says.

Geez, excuse Barack Obama for having dark skin!? God forbid we have to give attention to whether or not we're indulging in the stereotypes that contribute to the socially unjust achievement gap in our public schools, to the disproportionate number of black and Latino men in our prisons, to the despicable degree of correlation between race and income levels in our country. I mean, if Obama could have just been white then Fred Davis, could have chosen from all of the cool drum music that that beautiful "country" of Africa has to offer! It would have been so much more convenient! Give me a fucking break.

It's like he wants to say, "We couldn't even talk about how a black President would let all those black people commit all the crimes they're predisposed to do with impunity! Unfair! We have to act like that's not true, but he's black!"

I do realize that jumping to that conclusion is probably just as problematic as the racial stereotypes that I'm guessing he'd like to trade on. (And I could probably come up with some more problematic assumptions about what's on that lengthy list of his.) That said, I really wish that our racists could own their racism, know that we're not calling them "low-life scum," and move into some productive, action-oriented learning about how people of color are treated by our world and how we can create a world that serves all of us more fairly. Like, immediately I'd like that to happen. I'm not known for patience.

One thing I miss about college

is taking mucho classes with people who are English majors, but not Secondary Ed minors; because they're cooler. They're less practical, more deliberately quirky, more hilarious in general.

And then they go and turn into teachers anyway, apparently.

I wrote one of my favorite English-not-teachers eons ago with a funny story about one of my students hating me (It's funny if you know him?). I was expecting to hear back some totally outlandish and yet simultaneously beautiful tale about life on the I'm-an-English-major edge. But he's in the classroom. Teaching kids. Sell-out.

At least he hasn't lost his knack for witty banter:

I'm glad to hear things are at least interesting for you if not easy. If you're anything like me (pray to God this is not the case) then some days are capped with the dizzying highs of kids actually getting it, and the abysmal lows of them not giving (if I may paraphrase you) a rat's fat ass about anything not related to sleep or their totally rad IPod touches.

All in all, it's okay, it's nice to feel like you're definitively helping someone everyday, but it's less nice to have to wade through halls of hormonal teens groping on each other in the hallways.

Remember that the one good thing about kids trashing you now is that they don't know shit. Not in the way that many teachers wrap themselves in the artificial smugness of thinking they know more than their kids, but seriously kids today are perhaps the least literate children in 100 years, so if n e 1 tellz u u don no sometin, tell em, to get a command of the fucking language before they decide to aim it critically at someone else.

The world needs more English-not-teachers. Exhibits A, B, and C:

oh hey, check US out

the mid-school-year slump

I'm in it. I just can't seem to keep up with everything that needs to get done. Or I probably could, if I wasn't such a perfectionist. I have this compulsion, though, to do everything 110 %, or whatever. This is not me bragging; this is me wishing I wasn't such a control-freak since it's seriously damaging to my mental health.

I have a really hard time not thinking. Like, I get home from work on Friday afternoons, and all I want to do is lay on the couch and drool. But then my mind just starts working faster and faster until the next thing I know, I'm on the phone with a parent coming up with some action plan for changing a kid's behavior. Or I'm leaving endless voicemails on my co-teachers cell about what else we can be doing to track progress. I want to be able to slow the fuck down, but I don't know how to do that. I mean, I really want to know how.

So I decided to watch a bunch of sappy movies, because those usually get me all swept up in admittedly shallow emotional plots so that at least for an hour and a half my mind stops reeling. Last night I watched Love Actually (which I'm not embarrassed about liking), and The Notebook (I know). I just tried to put on The Prince and Me, but Jess protested, "There's a thin line between sappy and terrible, and this movie is definitely terrible." I had to agree.

So here I am at my computer catching up on my weekend news, and look: Urban League's closure leaves community-watchdog void. Another bummer.

I will say that one happy thing I came across this weekend, is this guy's lesson plan for this coming week. I really like this, and will probably adapt it for one of my groups of kids.

Also, I finally got a chance to post to the vlog, which I was missing. Susan, if you're reading this, I'd like to have some thread of our conversation go in the direction of action-research in the classroom, conducted by teacher and/or by students. I'm trying to collect some data on my classroom environment, quantitative and qualitative, and am finding it to be a tinse overwhelming. This might have worked better as an email.

try to guess mine and my little brother's ages by reading the following exchange:

Hey Bugsy, if you're reading this: Technically, it should be, "so technically I did pretty well." Surprised you didn't know that.

fight the power

Got an email today to look out for some tagging on students' notebooks that might resemble the tags that have been appearing in the neighborhood around our school. Fine. I understand that graffiti is vandalism in the dominant culture's thinking. And I understand that we need to prepare our kids to be able to access the dominant culture (i.e. follow its rules) when it's necessary for their success.

But not. all. graffiti. is. bad. Graffiti comes out of the urgent call for social justice that is hip hop culture's history, and although it has been coopted by some who use violence to assert their power, the medium in and of itself is not "bad."

For example, if I happen to "catch" the student who has a tag like this on their notebook:
I'm not going to think that they should be ashamed of themselves for "vandalizing" this back-door of an apartment building. I'm going to think that the dominant culture should be ashamed of itself for labeling a public reminder to "Think 4 urself" as a crime.

"It's great to be back in America!"

Welcome Back from ImprovEverywhere on Vimeo.

I want to be here:

And I want a couple of my kids to be able to go to a place like that sometime, too. I just think that some of them could really benefit from some time to chill the fuck out. It's exhausting to try to teach in a way that meets their overwhelming needs, but I bet it's even more exhausting to have those needs.

I want these students to be able to relax, and I mean reeeally relax. It would be cool to know that they were enjoying simple pleasures like quietness, sunshine, a beautiful view, a warm breeze, and cool, clean water.

The thing is, for most of the students that I wish this for, this is a financial impossibility. It's difficult to plan a fancy vacay when you're busy scraping grocery cash together.

They're milking this presidenial-race stuff for all it's worth; "and I'm reaping all the benefits."

Two articles I found thought-provoking:
Lose the BlackBerry? Yes He Can, Maybe

But before he arrives at the White House, he will probably be forced to sign off. In addition to concerns about e-mail security, he faces the Presidential Records Act, which puts his correspondence in the official record and ultimately up for public review, and the threat of subpoenas. A decision has not been made on whether he could become the first e-mailing president, but aides said that seemed doubtful.

For all the perquisites and power afforded the president, the chief executive of the United States is essentially deprived by law and by culture of some of the very tools that other chief executives depend on to survive and to thrive. Mr. Obama, however, seems intent on pulling the office at least partly into the 21st century on that score; aides said he hopes to have a laptop computer on his desk in the Oval Office, making him the first American president to do so.

At the risk of sounding like some young and naive "digital native," um, what? The president doesn't have a computer in the Oval Office? What in. the. hell. does he do? I mean, if that's the case, then fuck all these technology-laced lesson plans I'm writing for my kids so as to better prepare them for 21st Century careers. They can be President of he United States and not have to type, apparently. Apparently, that's even the rule.

Diana Owen, who leads the American Studies program at Georgetown University, said presidents were not advised to use e-mail because of security risks and fear that messages could be intercepted.

“They could come up with some bulletproof way of protecting his e-mail and digital correspondence, but anything can be hacked,” said Ms. Owen, who has studied how presidents communicate in the Internet era. “The nature of the president’s job is that others can use e-mail for him.”

I'm wondering if maybe he can keep his BlackBerry, just for messages like these that help him maintain his awesomeness:

“How about that?” Mr. Obama replied to a friend’s congratulatory e-mail message on the night of his victory.

and

Mr. Obama used e-mail to stay in constant touch with friends from the lonely confines of the road, often sending messages like “Sox!” when the Chicago White Sox won a game.

and the other article is The Wild Wordsmith of Wasila

I suppose it will be recorded as among political history’s ironies that Palin was brought in to help John McCain. I can’t blame feminists who might draw amusement from the fact that a woman managed to both cripple the male she was supposed to help while gleaning an almost Elvis-sized following for herself. Mac loses, Sarah wins big-time was the gist of headlines.

Again... um, what? Just FYI: Feminism is not about "crippl[ing]" men. Not even a little bit. Honestly, I think it would be more difficult to locate a feminist who supported Sarah Palin's candidacy for VP than it would be to find one who sees Palin as participating rather loudly and proudly in the dominant mysoginist ideology. I'm one, for example.

He continues,

What on earth are our underpaid teachers, laboring in the vineyards of education, supposed to tell students about the following sentence, committed by the serial syntax-killer from Wasilla High and gleaned by my colleague Maureen Dowd for preservation for those who ask, “How was it she talked?”

My concern has been the atrocities there in Darfur and the relevance to me with that issue as we spoke about Africa and some of the countries there that were kind of the people succumbing to the dictators and the corruption of some collapsed governments on the continent, the relevance was Alaska’s investment in Darfur with some of our permanent fund dollars.

And, she concluded, “never, ever did I talk about, well, gee, is it a country or a continent, I just don’t know about this issue.”

It’s admittedly a rare gift to produce a paragraph in which whole clumps of words could be removed without noticeably affecting the sense, if any.

(A cynic might wonder if Wasilla High School’s English and geography departments are draped in black.)

There's nothing more annoying to me -- hyperbole -- than people whose first response when I tell them I'm a high school English teacher is, "Ugh. I hate grammar." Except maybe the not-so-few-and-far-between people who say, "Oh good! We need people teaching kids to speak English, and not Spanish! This is America; they should speak our language!"

One thing that Sarah Palin has in common with my students, btw: Ask about Africa and receive some well-intentioned but problematically under-informed "Let's save those poor people... :(" rhetoric.

----
UPDATE: I'm feeling pretty cool because one of my favorite profs just blogged about the no-BlackBerry thing, too. He says:

"George W. Bush gave up the chance to digitize the White House by giving up email when he took the oath of office – something to do with executive privilege, the imperial presidency, and not being able to type and chew gum at the same time."

I'm still a hardass, but

I'm with my Mom on this one. I think this music video for Boyzone's new single "Better" is just lovely, and I don't care who knows it.



I also think the song's catchy and likable. Let me reiterate, though, I am not sappy.

The Problem of Silliness in U.S. Public Education

I went to an all-day workshop today on co-teaching with my co-teacher. Co-teaching is one way that schools are trying to meet the goals of inclusion of students with special needs. Basically, we don't want to "pull kids out" for "being special" anymore. It's stigmatizing and humiliating. So we put a general educator and a special educator in a classroom together with students who have and do not have disabilities, and find ways to make sure that all of them learn and achieve. Which is easier said than done. Hence the workshop.

The presenter, who, incidentally, is the sister of Cheryl from Curb Your Enthusiasm (!), asked those present to name one thing that they feel like they need in the classroom in order to be successful (i.e. a desk, a computer, an arrangement of student desks that allows for easy accessibility, etc.). And this woman in the back goes, "Chocolate!"

At that point, Molly, my hilarious co-teacher, mutters under her breath, "Jeezus! I hate that kind of silliness!" I giggled, and then refocused on the question at hand. At lunch, though, the matter re-emerged. Why is there so much silliness in the teaching profession? Why do so many (white, middle-aged, female) teachers wear those gawd-awful emboidered apple turtlenecks, denim jumpers, and dangly earrings that match the lesson of the day or the nearest holiday? Why the cheesy teacher-bags? Why the annoying signs with truisms on them like "Where there's a will there's a way!"? Why the surplus of tackniess? Why the relative out-of-touchness with... I don't know, reality?

Am I being overly judgemental, here?

more [found] Obama stuff

I picked up this extremely mediocre (oxymoron) piece of [found] writing in the hallway outside my classroom a couple of days after the election.

aesthetically weak, but theoretically AWESOME

I've said it before, but I really, really want to go back to grad school, despite reading Cassie's blog posts about excessive uppity-ness, because I really, really want to study the ways that teenagers who "hate" school write. And then I really, really want to capitalize on that shit with my own teaching.

I snapped this photo in one of the stairwells at work today. I have no evidence suggesting that the student (I'm assuming) who wrote this actually "hates" school; all I know is that they are/were willing to "vandalize" our school. I also know that I think that s/he is kinda cool. (You gotta look closely.)

oh come on

For the record, I find Sarah Palin to be ridiculous. Insultingly ridiculous as a vice-presidential candidate. Just for the record.

But this photois sexist. A focus on two drooling frat-boys* wearing pink in "honor" of their VP candidate! I mean, she's a girl, right? And girls love pink, right? Gosh, girls are so cute! So silly! I venture to guess that there would probably have been no pink McCain campaign t-shirts printed had Palin not been on the ticket. I don't know; maybe I'm wrong.

I mean, the amount of money they are saying that Palin spent on her wardrobe for the campaign is despicable. Let me be clear about that. That said, I also find it despicable how much the media is relishing in the opportunity to out her as a shop-a-holic. I feel like the argument's going, "What was McCain thinking bringing on a woman? Didn't he know that she would just go crazy with the credit card!? ... but she does look good, huh? Check out those legs," instead of going, "What was McCain thinking bringing on a person who would shift the focus from productive solutions to our nation's complicated problems to petty quibbling over who Obama 'pals around with.'"

This photo is despicable. It reduces Palin to her shapely legs; worse than that it reduces her to the way that attractive young men, mocking her woman-ness in pink t-shirts, gaze at her. I mean, she could be naked, besides those oh-so-girly black pumps, for Chrissakes. You could convincingly PhotoShop those two young men, as well as the slightly older one on the right, into a strip-club scene. The woman was running for Vice-President. Can we please get over the way she looks?

I look at it and hear the words of Jean Kilbourne (especially around 8:12) and Laura Mulvey.

*I realize that I'm rather unproductively stereotyping men in fraternities; forgive me. While I know that not all men in fraternities fit the stereotype I'm using, for the sake of my argument, that mold is a useful characterization of the humiliating and oppressive hetero-male gaze I'm frustrated with.

If you're wondering why I'm posting so much, it's because I'm supposed to be grading essays.

But this just in:
Barack. Obama. says. "fuck."

I knew I liked him.

The debates unnerved both candidates. When he was preparing for the Democratic primary debates, Obama was recorded saying, "I don't consider this to be a good format for me, which makes me more cautious. I often find myself trapped by the questions and thinking to myself, 'You know, this is a stupid question, but let me ... answer it.' So when Brian Williams is asking me about what's a personal thing that you've done [that's green], and I say, you know, 'Well, I planted a bunch of trees.' And he says, 'I'm talking about personal.' What I'm thinking in my head is, 'Well, the truth is, Brian, we can't solve global warming because I f---ing changed light bulbs in my house. It's because of something collective'."

"But without heads!"

While perusing the racks (That's what she said.) at GAP on Friday afternoon, Alex pointed out to me that these two mannequins are dressed exactly the way Jess and I dress. Jess is on the right; I'm on the left. It's sort of uncanny, actually.

How much more yuppie can we get.

Dancing in movies will never get old.

I want to be able to dance like this. I feel as though it is the good-dancer version of my particular style of dance, the style for which I, of course, have the bad-dancer version. I just like all the flailing!



This would also be acceptable for me:

This one might have something to do with my crush on Lauryn Hill. I'm particularly impressed with the moves that emerge at around 2:42 in this clip.

I think Obama's trying to be me.

I mean, I had parent-teacher conferences this morning, too.

Still feeling all sappy and excited. (Fired up, you could say.)

Thanks, Cassie (and Cassie-Prof).

White people talking about race? Weird.

During the school day today I had to have private conversations with two different white students who were really worked up, borderline angry, at how "the African Americans" were responding to Obama's election.

"How come if a black person is elected, they can make a big deal about it, but if I made a big deal about a white person being elected, that would be racist?" one of them asked me.

"How come right after they announced his victory, the TV stations only interviewed African-American people? Why can't white people have an opinion?" the other student asked.

In each case, I talked to the student about how it was okay for them to feel frustrated at what feels like a pressure for white people to not talk about race as a way of avoiding the "racist" label. I get that. These kids go to a school with a fairly diverse student population, and they don't want to act like everyone's the same. And they shouldn't. That's not the way anti-racism works. Anti-racism isn't colorblind, and it's not non-confrontational. These kids' ideas were racist, but these are not "bad" kids. Racism and big-jerk-ness are not the same. Their awareness of an oppressive forced silence is legitimate, even if their notions of "reverse racism" are not. And yet their lack of knowledge about the ways that racism works, and their lack of satisfactory vocabulary for describing their hurt feelings, led them to say things that made them, for sure, look like big jerks.

I finished the school day with the hopeful thought that Obama's election may really serve as a catalyst for many more honest, personal, and productive discussions of race and racism like the ones I had with these students.

"This party: Great party or greatest party?"

Attention My-Blog-Readers:
(Who am I kidding? Attention, Mom:)

If you ever want to have the greatest MSNBC/Anderson Cooper-watching party ever, recruit one Kasey Umland to be your party planner. Check it:



In all seriousness, though, oh.my.god. I'd like to avoid some lame attempt at finding some words to explain how it felt to see "Barack Obama elected President" flash on the screen. When I called that student this morning, he said, "How does it feel to have been a little part of making history, Ms. Dahlke?" The kids are screaming O-BA-MA in the hallways during passing periods. I could not get my first hour class to focus on our routine activity for at least ten minutes. They're so excited! I'm so excited!

OK, so since I've committed to not trying to put my joy into words, and since Kasey's blog is now private, and since I thought this post was particularly poignant, I'm excerpting:

SO, why wouldn't my mom vote for Obama? TAXES. My mom thinks he will raise her taxes. I towed the Obama line and told her only those making over 250K will see an increase. I told her that she and dad do NOT make over 250K so their taxes will fall. Her response "Well, we all know they say that now but it won't stay that way." (Is my mom Joe the Plumber?)

Now, it could be the fact that I am in the midst of a presidential movie marathon, but I started thinking about this claim: you can't trust a Democrat to cut taxes. OR WORSE, Democrats WANT to raise taxes. Democrats WANT to spend your money. Frankly, it kind of pisses me off.

I'm angry that somehow we have accepted the label, fiscally liberal. I don't think I stand for being fiscally liberal at all. I WANT a balanced budget. I want less government spending. I WANT lower taxes. And even beyond that I WANT small government, and I am willing to bet I favor these things just as much as any conservative.

That being said, I NEED to live in a world in which regardless of race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, etc. everyone is given a fair chance at happiness. I NEED to live in a country that does not see people living in poverty and allow it to continue. I NEED to live in a society in which mental illness, developmental disabilities, learning disabilities, and/or physical disabilities are not a sentence to a life of nothing more than your basic needs being met (if you are lucky) but rather you are afforded the opportunity to reach your own personal potential.

and I want all of that to be possible without a big government, but until we rid the world of discrimination and find a way to instill a sense in everyone of basic consideration for our neighbors, that isn't going to happen. So, until then, I want a government that is looking to put itself out of business. We talk about this in the nonprofit world. The goal of social service agencies is to be so successful, you are no longer necessary. I am not advocating anarchy, but I am advocating a government that looks for long term sustainable solutions to our greatest problems. That seeks not to minimize their magnitude but to work to address the institutional causes of these problems in a way that little by little makes the need for a government role no longer necessary. This is idealistic and I know that, but I am sick and tired of the notion that because I want to see a better world, I am in some way WANT to spend hard working Americans' money. No one wants that and it is ridiculous to even suggest. The difference between us is not our wants but our needs, and I for one, am willing to put my needs before my wants.

a little adorable

I wake-up-call one of my students because he has a hard time getting to school on time. I want him to switch into my AP Prep class next semester, which is first hour, so I'm trying to get him in the habit of getting up early.

Anyway, usually the call goes:

"Morning, [student name]!"
"Morning, Ms. Dahlke."
"You up?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, the bus comes in forty minutes. I'll see you in sixth hour."

But today, it went:

"Morning, [student name]!"
"Morning, Ms. Dahlke."
"You up?"
"Yeah. What are we doing in school today? Can we just watch the election and talk about it?"

reading materials

1. Requiem for a New Orleans Neighborhood
2. Woman faces jail for hacking her virtual husband to death
3. American Blackout
4. No Dropouts Left Behind: New Rules on Grad Rates
5. Dept. of Disputation: Red Sex, Blue Sex
6. Campaign for Teen Safety
7. Emo for Obama
8. Ten guilt-free ways to say no
9. Reevaluating the Peace Corps
10. A Saggy-Pants Furor in Riviera Beach

...you know. If you're bored.

for all practical purposes, incapable of getting it together

One might think that portrait-taking with two toddlers and a person with significant brain-damage would be a challenge. Au contraire. The challenge is actually to get my otherwise intelligent seventeen-year-old brother to look at the mothereffing camera (and do so in an un-emo way).





the final draft/the best we could do:

For some reason we "had to" pose for a certain number of shots. Mom wanted to get one of herself and Dad with Eoin and Finola, but they were in need of naps and having melt-downs (E and J not M and D). So Neil and I took one for the team, and sat for this shot: