Writing Hiatus

For anyone paying attention to the progress (or lack thereof) of this blog, I give thanks. I have poured my heart's desires and passion for expression into eight-hundred plus posts for the past four years or so. I have explored and detailed the crucible of the prison writing workshops, recorded my clumsy construction of the New Mexico place, and ranted about how wrong-headed education has become. It's been good for me, and I hope you got something out of it too. Like many undertakings, however, this blog has a life span. I won't say it has been a failure, but it has languished. I don't know exactly why, and why doesn't much matter anyway, but it's time for a break. My energy has ebbed, and I feel a bit defeated by circumstances. I hope to be back soon, but don't know for sure. So hasta la proxima and  quiero que vayan con Dios.

Dying -- and Living -- Well

A study analyzing thousands of obituaries found one word recurring more often by far than any others. That word was "help." Yes, when a measure is taken of a life well-lived, it is the role we played in helping others that counts for more than anything when the final story is told. Of course, that help can come in the form of a discovery, or raising awareness, or working for greater freedom, but it is in helping something larger than one's self that makes for what people remember. If one is to live knowing that, one might shift a priority or two, if dying well matters in the end.*

* From TED talk https://www.npr.org/2018/09/07/645360945/lux-narayan-what-do-obituaries-teach-us-about-lives-well-lived

Where Have All the Teachers Gone?

Paperwork, assessment obsession, "backward design" (appropriately named), scripted lessons. The list goes on. What counts as important in education is the test, the data, the results, and a standard pathway to get those results. Regimentation, one might say. And, for me, it's the loss of teaching, the interaction, the dialogue, the shared humanity, the unplanned, teachable moment, the surprise, the abandoning of the lesson to address something important, the creative problem solving, the collaboration, and relationship one develops when lights are going on that marks the tragedy that is education now. In my particular situation, administrators have taken over the training of graduate teaching assistants. Time is now spent going over curriculum that is drawn from corporate textbooks, assessment and more assessment, and working backwards from the "outcomes." It's a top-down thing now. Grades are the thing. Any agency I had as a teacher and professional development leader, the "grass-roots" of teachers teaching teachers, has been squeezed into an afterthought of optional discussion. Not surprisingly, teachers who can, leave the profession. Burnout and attrition are high. Teacher preparation is low. We all know the litany. But where have they gone, all those lovely, bright lights, those passionate learners, the ones who loved to teach, the ones students loved? Where?