tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618001298085278602024-03-26T05:31:02.880-07:00Warren HynesWhere the Classroom Meets the Newsroom Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-9171392224913388482024-01-30T19:18:00.000-08:002024-01-30T19:18:45.373-08:00The Issue of Their Lifetime<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
am not an expert on climate change education. I am, however, a veteran teacher
and a citizen of this world. And it seems clear to me that we owe our students more
discussion of climate change in the classroom.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It is the issue of their lifetime,
and we are not talking about it – not in most classes, and not in a lot of
places. Even though 2023 was far and away the warmest year on record, even
though the 10 warmest years on planet Earth have all occurred in the past 10
years, and even though we experienced the warmest June, July, August, September
and October in history this past year, we are still not really discussing it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In a representative survey of more
than 1,000 adults conducted by the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication
and the George Mason University Center for Climate Change Communication,
researchers found that 65 percent of Americans say they rarely or never talk
about global warming with family and friends, while 35 percent said they discuss
it either occasionally or often. And yet, 65 percent of Americans said they are
somewhat worried about climate change, with another 29 percent saying they are
very worried about it. On top of that, more than 10 percent of Americans said
they are feeling down, depressed or helpless because of climate change.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We see stories about climate-related
crises all around the planet, and we notice things that just don’t seem right
in our own region, such as being able to go for a run in shorts multiple times
in January – in New Jersey. We hear people refer to climate change as an existential
crisis, which doesn’t really make anyone feel better about it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But for many of life’s most difficult
questions, we can find hope in the classroom. New Jersey was the first state to
provide state climate change instructional standards, and no, the standards are
not geared toward indoctrination. They are geared toward analysis, evaluation,
collaboration and solution-seeking – in other words, student-centered learning.
These standards offer teachers and students the chance to learn together, and
to prepare to take leadership roles in addressing this issue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Yale and George Mason climate
change communication programs provide a wealth of resources for educators and for
all of us. One of Yale’s educator resources is titled “Five Facts, Ten Words,”
and the lesson breaks down climate change in five two-word phrases: “Scientists
agree. It’s real. It’s us. It’s bad. There’s hope.” Many of the additional Yale
sources connect data to storytelling, which is in many ways what scientists are
trying to do as they examine our changing climate. Resources such as these pull
away from the existential dread and move more toward honest discussion, concern
and solution-seeking.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I look forward to seeing more and
more schools follow guidelines such as these, and offer students the guidance
and exploratory space to seek out the solutions their generation will need to
lead us forward. I hope to see additional professional development offerings so
that teachers feel prepared to do this work. This is not about pushing an
agenda; it is simply about doing right by our students. As they explore climate
change more with their teachers, our students will gain the language and the
confidence to look this crisis in the eye and talk about it in ways that
genuinely help them, and us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-46524225752486586152023-12-10T15:15:00.000-08:002023-12-10T15:15:23.510-08:00The Dream School<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">We were holding a brief assembly for
our 12</span><sup style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">-grade class, supporting them with whatever college-related
information they still need at this point in the application process. In the
assembly, our counseling department included a video clip of </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">New York Times</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> columnist Frank Bruni,
who wrote an influential book a few years ago titled </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Where You Go is Not Who You’ll Be</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">. The book, which I have referenced
many times with parents and students, addresses the degree to which
characteristics such as character and work ethic end up meaning more to success
in life than the specific college we attend.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I believe that my life has lived out
that premise, and I believe most of us would say the same. But so many of our
seniors and their parents have their eyes set on a specific dream school, and
they often find themselves feeling as though their goals will only be met by
gaining acceptance to that school.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As Bruni was just starting to make his
point in the assembly, the sound cut out on the video. I was the one working the
projector, so it must have been my fault somehow. Having read the book and
talked about it frequently, I figured I should try and summarize Bruni’s point.
I took the microphone and did just that, then added my own personal experience.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I shared with the students that in
the spring of 1989, I was valedictorian of my high school class and applied to
many elite universities. I assumed that with my grades being what they were, I’d
receive many acceptances. And yet, none of my top five choices accepted me. I “settled”
for my sixth choice, an outstanding state school, one that many students – including
some of my friends – had tagged as their dream school.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I shared that when I arrived at this
college, it quickly became clear that this was a better fit for me than any of
those top five choices. I told the students that six months into my freshman
year, I would have definitely turned down an offer to attend any of those “top”
choices. I recognized that this school was the place for me, and that my
senior-year dreams had been grounded more in illusion than in reality.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My college, nestled in the dreamy
town of Chapel Hill, N.C., was inviting me to study really hard, but also to
stroll the downtown area and shop for CDs and cool T-shirts. This campus was
providing me with superb classes but also with tons of extracurricular
activities. I joined the school newspaper, and journalism quickly became the
focus of my undergraduate years. The school wanted me to be a student who could
excel on a final exam, while also contributing to the greater good of the town
and the world around me. I was expected to work into the night on a research
paper, yet also wait in line all night to get Duke-UNC basketball tickets.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I told my story, and the students
heard me, I guess. One colleague told me that when she asked students later how
the assembly was, one student shared that Dr. Hynes had told a really
depressing story about getting rejected by all of his colleges. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">{Sigh.}</i> I am sure I did the best I could
in the moment, especially considering there had been no plans for me to speak
at that moment. I have shared this story of my college rejections many times
with students, and it usually goes over well and leads them to feel less
anxious about the process. I’m sure it did on this day as well. But I reflected
afterward about some ways I might tell it a bit differently.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I think I would start with the metaphor
of life as a marathon. Because, after all, some students do not find their
ideal fit in the first semester of college. My story speaks to the idea that we
can find that fit even when we don’t think we have it. But in reality, it might
take awhile for that to happen. Some students transfer, some find a better fit
in their graduate school than in their undergraduate school, some need a gap
year before going anywhere, and some find that not attending college at all is
the best fit for now. The larger theme here is that our lives do not typically
unfold exactly as we thought they would in December of our senior year. But it
may take some patience and perseverance before we find the right track for us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I have two daughters who are
commuting to college right now. Neither would tell you that these schools are
the perfect spots they were dreaming of in senior year. But they would likely
tell you that these are the schools they need right now, and they are grateful
that they can drive 30 minutes from their home and attend a world-class
university. The words “dream school” or “best fit” would not come up in their
conversation with you, but they would tell you that they’re narrowing down
their interests within their majors and they are growing as learners and as
citizens of the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They’re still early on in the
marathon, with so much more ahead of them. Like the students I spoke with last
week, they’re still figuring it all out. And our Gen Z students do not need
anyone to tell them that everything works out perfectly, as per plan. They’ve witnessed
enough horror in their short time on this earth to debunk that myth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like most of us, they’re going to
respond to the opportunity to listen, learn, share and grow. They’re in search
of hope for their own lives and for the greater good. They want some fun, some
joy, and some intellectual challenges. They might like a cool college logo on
their sweatshirts as well, but that logo represents more than cachet. It
symbolizes the fulfillment they hope to gain in this life, at this stage of the
marathon and in the stages to come. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So yeah, I would go a little deeper
if given another crack at speaking to the seniors. Even so, I think they got
the point in my shortened version. Hang in there, and don’t fret if your
perceived dream doesn’t pan out. There are more possibilities out there than
any of us can count. Where we go as human beings – that’s how we figure out who
we’ll be.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-82994759770460701682023-11-10T11:23:00.005-08:002023-11-10T11:23:59.263-08:00The Teachers of PS 39<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">They were always together. Chatting in the
hallways, sharing lunch in the break room, socializing outside of school. They
were technically colleagues, but in essence they were more like family. It was
just a small elementary school in northeast Staten Island, but they made it
feel like home.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">My mother was a teacher, and for most of
her career she taught at Public School 39 in the South Beach section of Staten
Island. She taught whatever the year required – third grade, fourth grade,
music, you name it – and she did so with joy. I spent plenty of days visiting
her in the school, and I witnessed the deep connections she made with students.
Those visits had plenty to do with the decision I made to become a teacher
myself. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But I was always fascinated with the
relationships my mom built with her fellow teachers. These people weren’t all the
same in terms of personality and interests. Yet they cared deeply about one
another and knew all about one another’s triumphs and struggles. They all came
over to my house, for my mom’s annual St. Patrick’s Day party, and for regular
visits. I spent time in their houses as well, getting to know their children
and becoming close with some of those kids. My mom organized Broadway trips,
and the teachers would travel to Manhattan together for dinner and a show.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As I grew up, these women became some of
the most important adults in my life. One of them delivered a reading at my
wedding. Another became a trusted mentor. Still another gave me one of her old
cars to serve as my first set of wheels. These teachers paid me to work at
their houses, painting walls and raking leaves. They invited us to their Jersey
Shore homes. And, when my parents retired to Cape May, they all made
pilgrimages down there to spend time together. My parents returned the favor, visiting
their retirement homes everywhere from Connecticut to Florida.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">For most of my teaching career, I was hesitant
about growing too close to my fellow educators, out of an attempt to maintain
professional boundaries. It’s true that I did become an administrator in the
school where I’d taught, and I found myself supervising people with whom I’d worked
side by side. But that happens, and I’ve found that it is possible to supervise
a friend. Over the years, my boundary-setting left me missing some of what my
mom and her friends had. It’s as though I ignored the very thing they were
modeling for me all along – the reality that the best friends you make in life
might just be the ones teaching across the hall from you, toiling by your side
in one of the toughest jobs anyone can choose. When you work in a school every
day, you develop a partnership with those who care about it as much as you do,
as you bond over a mutual understanding of how much compassion and dedication
go into this job.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As my mom’s Alzheimer’s has progressed, these
teachers have made their way to visit her in the assisted living home where she
now resides. The teachers sit with my mom and talk, and she listens, sharing
her wish that she could remember all the times they have spent together. They
hug her tight, and tell her they love her. My mom does the same. Nothing can
take away the love they have for each other. The teachers call me on the phone
as well, and ask me for updates. When we finish, I tell them I love them, too.
Because I do. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">They will be there for my mom throughout,
because that’s the only way these PS 39 teachers know how to operate. And I
will be there for them as well, because that’s the least I can do to honor the friendships,
the family, the inspiration, and the kindness I have received from these very
special educators and humans.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-40381222227610963442023-11-09T11:28:00.003-08:002023-11-09T11:28:24.787-08:00Seismic Changes<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I began my teaching career three
months before the turn of the century, at a time when the baby boomers were starting
to retire and bipartisanship was still a thing. We looked forward to a
millennium of changes beyond our imagination, in education and in the world at
large.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Three years into my career, the 21<sup>st</sup>-century
educational changes began. No Child Left Behind ushered in a seismic shift in
education. Standardized testing, school accountability and educational
standards became required, unquestionable aspects of every state and district’s
educational landscape, and the use of data to evaluate school success became a
fixed part of how we run schools. It took years for school districts to adjust
to this method of evaluation, and many are still struggling to produce data
that reveal a quality commensurate with the education that district leaders
believe they are seeing in the classroom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Change can be exciting, but it also
can be all-encompassing. In their classic scholarship on organizational
leadership, Lee Bolman and Terrence E. Deal describe four frames of leadership
– the structural frame, the human resource frame, the symbolic frame and the
political frame. A seismic shift in education hits all four frames at once. No
Child Left Behind, for instance, altered the very nature of what schools do
(structural), the job requirements of educators (human resource), the messages
we send about educational equity (symbolic) and the fixes legislators had made
to that inequity (political). For institutions as complicated and bureaucratic
as school districts and school buildings, a seismic shift takes a lot out of
everyone. After all of the meetings, professional development, and readjusted
lesson plans, we hope we’ve found a way to pivot toward improved education for
the students we serve.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another seismic shift arrived after
the Newtown, Conn., mass shooting of 2012, this one focused on much stricter
school security. In the first decade of the century, yet another seismic shift
began as both smartphones and social media arrived in students’ lives, bringing
technology into our classrooms every minute of the day. And a fourth shift took
place over the course of the first two decades of the 2000s, as many colleges
maneuvered toward higher tuitions and lower acceptance rates, thereby turning
the promise of higher education on its head and leading to a near-obsessive
student/parent focus on the K-12 finish line. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All of these shifts led to countless
research and policy changes, as well as deep challenges to the daily lives of
educators. We know that big changes are coming in our careers, and we know that
rigidity will be of no use. But we do hope that these changes can be spread out
a bit, so as to make the essential job of educating students more manageable. Four
huge changes in 20 years was a lot. But it was actually easy to handle compared
to the past several years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In this last 5-10 years, the frequency
of seismic changes has increased at a pace few could have expected. While I identified
four such changes over my first 20 years as an educator, four more have fully
developed over the past half-decade or so. For one, we have a mental health
epidemic affecting our children, which existed before the Covid pandemic and
continues to exist after it. Two, we have ever-increasing polarization that
leads to intense divisions and lines in the sand on virtually every topic you
can find. Third, we have rapid increases in the development of artificial
intelligence, coupled with a widening mistrust of source material. And fourth,
we are expected to produce quality education in the midst of catastrophe,
whether it’s from infectious disease or climate-induced crises. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In essence, these four current
shifts are challenging the very nature of wellness, the very nature of truth,
the very nature of learning, and the very nature of survival. With changes this
wide and deep and disturbing, it’s no wonder some are choosing not to pursue
careers in education. These are tough times all over, and the classroom is no
exception. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My doctoral dissertation focused on
two tough yet critical topics in education – media literacy and racial
literacy. One day, while I was conducting my research in an eighth-grade
classroom in New Jersey, students were discussing sources related to
immigration. In a small-group conversation, two boys offered differing views on
how much is too much when it comes to U.S. open-border immigration policies.
When we gathered for full-group discussion, a third boy from that group quietly
shared that he’d been listening to his two friends as they had disagreed over
whether this country should accept more immigrants. He said he heard both
points of view, he believes both classmates to be really good people, and he
was having trouble determining who was more correct in their points of view,
and what to do about it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We listened to this student, and the
class quietly reflected on his point. He was addressing an issue that has no quick
fixes. And yet he was listening, learning, and sharing. He was engaged in respectful
conversation with his peers as they studied up on the topic. He was ready to
keep learning and talking about the issue. He wasn’t shying away from it, but
he also wasn’t expecting easy answers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bolman and Deal’s four frames were
all on display here: the structure (student-centered learning); the human
resource (respectful discussion and discovery among peers); the symbolic
(democratic learning with free exchange of ideas); and the political (fearless
entry into the tough topics, with mutual respect). This was just one
conversation, for sure. But for me, it shone a light on an educational path
that can seem dark and foreboding in 2023. Just as seismic changes can hit all
four frames, so can collaboration and our commitments to learning and growing
together. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The changes are abundant and they are overwhelming.
But I have to figure that if these kids can find a way forward, one step at a
time, so can I. And so can we. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-73038949928327166332023-07-04T07:34:00.000-07:002023-07-04T07:34:14.221-07:00Opportunity and Obstacle<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">For the past two years, I have
written far fewer blog posts due to the reality that I was working on my
doctorate. A doctorate is by no means a requirement for educational leadership;
many of our school leaders have no Ed.D. at the end of their titles. In my
case, I just felt that the doctoral training could help me more fully
understand the intricacies of the educational landscape. So I did it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And it was hard work. After two
years of coursework and dissertation-writing, I have completed the journey. I
don’t know that I’ll ever get used to being called “Dr. Hynes,” but the title
was not the point of this. It was all about deepening the lens through which I
view this incredibly challenging, yet fulfilling, profession.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A big part of this doctoral journey
is researching, writing and editing the dissertation. My dissertation addresses
the intersection of media literacy and racial literacy. I spent hours visiting
with middle-school students, talking with them about how media literacy tools
and media sources influenced their thoughts about tough topics. I’m hopeful
that I added something of value to the research on these topics. The dissertation
link is <a href="https://scholarship.shu.edu/dissertations/3106/">here</a>, as
it was published just last week.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When I began this doctorate, I was
able to share the details of the program with my parents, who as always were
supportive and very proud. They had, after all, nurtured my brother and me into
strong students and lifelong learners. Three months into the doctoral program,
my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Six months into the program, we lost my
dad after he suffered a massive stroke. Over the past year and a half, my
brother and I have tried to honor our dad’s life in appropriate ways, while
also managing our mom’s care. We have had a lot of help along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As I began my dissertation defense,
I shared with my committee that I was dedicating this dissertation to my
parents. My dad was no longer here to read his son’s work, and my mom was not
able to absorb this research and remember it. Yet they were still surely proud
of me as I began the defense, and I stood on their shoulders as I successfully
defended the dissertation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Life brings with it both opportunity
and obstacle, sometimes simultaneously. At age 52, I am a doctor of education.
At the same time, I am mourning the actual loss of one parent and the gradual
loss of another. It’s my job to navigate all of this – to honor and care for my
parents while also using their inspiration and guidance to fuel my modest
attempts at making a difference in this world. It can feel like a lot
sometimes, but it is life. And I can do it. That’s how my parents raised me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-60352420588277386462021-12-22T18:41:00.003-08:002021-12-22T18:46:08.391-08:00Thomas Grant Hynes <p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> My
dad was one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. He sported an SAT
above 1400 and combined a quick wit with wisdom and integrity. He grew up poor
and never forgot what that felt like. He lived in a house that wasn’t always
loving, and he never forgot that, either.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He served his country in a war that
was deeply complicated, and few people welcomed him home upon his return. For
most of his career, he didn’t care too much for his job, but he clocked in and
supported his family in spite of that. During my adolescence, his struggles
with alcoholism peaked and tore at our family, and he found sobriety at just
the right time. During the last 25 years of his life, he dedicated himself
fully to service, making amends many times over by caring for his family and
community. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As an English teacher, I see his
life in many of the books and characters I’ve taught. Like Holden Caulfield in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Catcher in the Rye, </i>he could be too
smart for his own good and was a bit lost at times in his youth. Like
Huckleberry Finn, he was abandoned in some ways by his father but found his
moral compass just the same, with help from two peers who became his lifelong
best friends. Like Tim O’Brien in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Things They Carried, </i>he was haunted by the shadows of Vietnam long past his
service time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like Willy Loman in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Death of a Salesman, </i>he stuck with a
career even though it didn’t give him as much as he gave to it. Like Nick Carraway
in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Gatsby, </i>he was
observant, reluctant to judge others in public, but quietly judgmental in
private. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Like Atticus Finch in </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">To Kill a
Mockingbird</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">, he always remembered to look at things from another person’s
point of view. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">And like Tom Joad in </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Grapes
of Wrath, </i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">he grew throughout his life in taking action to support his neighborhood,
community and society as a whole.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s not possible to fully express a
man’s life in one blog post; that’s not what this is about. I’ve been grieving
my father’s death since he passed a few days ago (a stroke took him from us
suddenly, at 78 and full of activity – house projects, travel plans and
volunteer work, not to mention serving as my mom’s caregiver). I’ll keep
grieving in the ways that fit the often-complex nature of father-son
relationships in late-20<sup>th</sup> and early-21<sup>st</sup>-century
America. My dad had incredibly positive and negative impacts on me at different
times in his life; he made up for it more than I can ever express; I forgave
him completely; and I continue to assess which parts of him I am proud to
exhibit in my personality, and which parts I’d like to work on shedding.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m a school administrator now, and
in that role I find myself often reaching for the most impressive part of my
dad’s character – his ability to stay cool under pressure. So many things happen
in a school every day, and administrators strive to remain calm, reassuring and
present-minded as the crises mount. My dad, who was never able to stop sweating
the small stuff, was actually always capable of handling the big stuff. In that
way, he reminded me of a character from one of the first movies we saw together
– Han Solo in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Star Wars. </i>I was just
six years old, but I can remember talking with him the whole ride home about
how great that movie was. And in his best moments, my dad could manage the
moment with the grace and wit of Han.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One of the most frequent crises I
see as an administrator is the constant pressure students feel to reach the
highest levels of excellence between ages 14-18. Secondary education has become
all about preparing oneself for the college application process, with both
students and parents fretting over what each high school class and experience
will mean to the arbiters of admission, who will supposedly alter each student’s
life with either acceptance or rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My dad, like a lot of people I know,
did not peak in high school. Nor did he peak in college. He didn’t even peak in
his 20s, 30s or 40s. I’d say he had a heckuva run in his 50s, 60s and 70s, and
found more of his potential during that time period than ever before. To me,
that makes more sense – you develop your character and work ethic early on,
then figure the rest out as you go along. There is nothing my dad did or failed
to do at age 16 that defined his life; it was a collection of decisions over 78
years that did so. High school and college were just a sliver of it all, and
honestly the best things he did during that time were paying attention in class,
keeping his head up amid struggle, and meeting his best friends and my mother. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We carry many role models in our
lives, for a variety of reasons and purposes. If we’re lucky, our parents’
presence remains with us beyond their lives and serves to guide us forward. I am
raising two teenage daughters who have made it clear that I was not the only
adolescent to feel angst toward my father; they’ve got plenty of that at this
very moment. But I know that they’ve also got a lot of love as well. And I hope
that the pieces of my father that made me a better man are somewhere inside
those girls, adding some rays of light to their life’s journey.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-86858725608305455862021-08-17T18:51:00.004-07:002021-08-17T18:51:58.015-07:00The Power of Small Steps<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
recently finished a belated reading of Samantha Power’s gripping and inspiring memoir,
</span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Education of an Idealist. </i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">As she
describes her tenure as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, Power attempts
to describe just how many crises exist in the world at one time, and how hard thousands
of dedicated U.S. personnel work to address all of them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>While describing the steps she tried
to take for women’s rights around the world, Power mentions the Afghan Women’s
National Cycling Team, which had been banned by the Taliban but had been able
to get back together in 2011. Power writes that some men would yell at these
women to get off the road, and some would even grab at the women while they
rode past. When she spoke about these athletes, Power would ask her audience to
think about the impression they left on others:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Imagine just for a minute what it
must feel like to be a little girl from a rural town in Afghanistan – and to
suddenly see those forty women, in a single file, flying down the road. To see
something for the first time that you couldn’t have believed possible. Think about
where your mind would go – about the shockwave that image would send through
your system. Think what it would allow you to believe possible. You would never
be able to think the same way again.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like many people, I haven’t been
able to stop thinking about all that’s been happening in Afghanistan in recent
days. I pray for the people of this country, and I of course think about the
women and girls, as well as those who are not Pashtun or Sunni, and those who
worked alongside troops from the U.S. and other nations. I hope that those who
wish to leave will have a flight out of the country and that those who wish to
stay will experience more equality and equity than they did 20 years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There are so many aspects of these
past few days to despair over, particularly with regard to concerns over human
rights. Place all of this on top of the other despairs we’ve had in our lives
and minds – the ever-evolving virus, our changing climate, debates over social
justice, a polarized U.S., disagreements over the very nature of the truth – it
has already felt like too much, and now we add in images of the Taliban in
power again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Even committed, motivated people felt
overwhelmed by the gravity of challenges in the world,” Samantha Power writes
in her book, “from climate change to the refugee crisis to the global crackdown
on human rights.” Power adds that she worried about people falling into a “doom
loop” in which they’d choose to do nothing but despair because they couldn’t
solve all these problems. But she adds, “Whenever my own thoughts about the
state of the world headed toward a similarly bleak impasse, I would brainstorm
with my team about how we might ‘shrink the change’ we hoped to see.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Power chose to adhere to the theory
that big problems can be solved by a series of small solutions. Even when this
takes years or even decades, small steps are made. A friend advised her, “The
world is filled with broken places. Pick your battles, and go win some.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This week, as many eyes focus on
Afghanistan, Power – who now serves as administrator of USAID – is working along
with many others to provide relief to those devastated by the earthquake and
storms in Haiti. Another crisis, with yet another nation in peril, and some are
choosing to shrink the change, through whatever small solutions they can find. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There are individual steps we all can take
to help just a bit, to try and move the needle toward the greater good. In my
own headspace, that is seeming like a better path than a doom loop. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“People who care, act, and refuse to
give up may not change <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the </i>world,”
Power writes, “but they can change many individual worlds.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-18497436385520799012020-11-01T13:10:00.003-08:002020-11-01T13:10:40.777-08:00Facing the Fear <p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I started writing blog posts in
2008, and never have I written so few in a calendar year. Of course, 2020 has
been no ordinary year. The past eight months have been extraordinarily difficult
for so many of us, for many reasons. There are the personal struggles we may be
experiencing, and then of course there are the shared crises – the pandemic,
our economy, our environment, U.S. race relations, and our election process, to
name a few. For so many of us, it has felt at times like more than we can bear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Most of the blogs I’ve written have
turned toward the better angels of our nature and the silver linings amid
struggle. My worldview still trends toward hope, and I trust it always will. But
in such a brutal year, it’s fair to ask if people are really in the market for
rose-colored glasses. And in a time of unrelenting messaging, it’s fair to ask
if anyone wants to read yet another point of view.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">At home and at my school, I have
specific work to do, and I strive to do that work in ways that support others.
You don’t need a run-down of what an assistant principal does when trying to
help lead a school through hybrid learning; it’s likely the educational
equivalent of what so many of us are doing right now – taking all possible steps
to help others navigate the unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There is an understandable fear this
week regarding the nationwide response to our election results. I have no
specific prediction for this, and I’d be lying if I said I was unafraid. We
hold our collective breaths and wait. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I look for historical perspective
and think to the 1930s, when our country tried to balance an economic
depression with an environmental catastrophe, vicious domestic racism and the
rise of European fascism. I think to the late 1960s, when the U.S. endured brutal
racial conflicts, a divisive war in Southeast Asia, crippling assassinations of
our leaders and a consequential election.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I also try to think of times when
things swung in the opposite direction. I recall February 1990, when there were
so many examples of positive news around the world that I started cutting out
headlines and taping them to my dorm-room wall. At one point, the Soviet Union’s
Communist Party voted to hold multiparty elections, Germany agreed to reunite,
and Nelson Mandela was freed from prison – all in the same week. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In my lifetime, Mandela has probably
been the most inspirational figure the world has seen. He spent 18 years in a
prison cell with no bed or plumbing. He did hard labor, was allowed one
half-hour visit per year, and could only write a letter every six months. Even
still, he led his fellow inmates in civil disobedience and remained the respected
leader of South African’s anti-apartheid movement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
man dealt with more crises than he had any reason to bear, and he emerged as a
transformational leader in his nation and in our world. So as one who experienced
the fear and made his way out of the darkness and into the light, perhaps this
blog should end with Mandela’s words.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I
learned,” Mandela wrote, “that courage was not the absence of fear, but the
triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who
conquers that fear.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And
as for hope? Mandela had words for us here as well. “I am <span style="mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">fundamentally an optimist,” he wrote. “Whether
that comes from nature or nurture, I cannot say. Part of being optimistic is
keeping one's head pointed toward the sun, one’s feet moving forward. There
were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would
not and could not give myself up to despair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">“That way lays defeat and death.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p></p>Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-13578045410454464602020-06-27T07:58:00.001-07:002020-06-29T13:06:26.996-07:00Summer Reading, with Purpose<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The last three months have
challenged us in ways we never could have imagined, and we know that the work is
not done. Our public health crisis is still with us, as is the social crisis of
race relations in America. Many educators, students and citizens are taking
time this summer to read books about race. We read these books not simply to
know more, but to have the knowledge and perspective needed to influence our
actions in pursuit of a more just world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There are a lot of books to read,
and here are a few I’ve read that are well worth recommending. So many more are
out there beyond this list, and I hope you find time to read and continue the
dialogue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nonfiction
for the Moment<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Fire Next Time </i>by James Baldwin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Between
the World and Me </i>by Ta-Nehisi Coates <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration </i>by Isabel
Wilkerson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness </i>by Michelle
Alexander <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stamped
from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America </i>by
Ibram X. Kendi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stamped:
Racism, Antiracism, and You </i>by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How
to Be an Antiracist </i>by Ibram X. Kendi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">White
Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism </i>by Robin
DiAngelo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America </i>by
Richard Rothstein <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Just
Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption </i>by Bryan Stevenson <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks </i>by Rebecca Skloot <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">These
Truths: A History of the United States </i>by Jill Lepore <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by Ta-Nehisi
Coates <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Grace
Will Lead Us Home: The Charleston Church Massacre and the Hard, Inspiring
Journey to Forgiveness </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by Jennifer Berry Hawes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Born
a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood </i>by Trevor Noah<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Whistling
Vivaldi: And Other Clues to How Stereotypes Affect Us</i> by Claude M. Steele<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fire
Shut Up in My Bones </i>by Charles M. Blow <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><i style="text-indent: 48px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Men We Reaped: A Memoir </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 48px;">by Jesmyn Ward</span><br />
<i style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Tell
Me Who You Are: Sharing Our Stories of Race, Culture, & Identity</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> by
Winona Guo and Priya Vulchi</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The journalism of Nikole
Hannah-Jones, including <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/08/14/magazine/1619-america-slavery.html">The
1619 Project</a>, </i>her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New York Times
Magazine </i>and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This American Life </i>pieces
on school integration & segregation, and her story in <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/06/24/magazine/reparations-slavery.html">this
week’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New York Times Magazine</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/06/the-case-for-reparations/361631/">“The
Case for Reparations”</a> by Ta-Nehisi Coates<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><a href="https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/the-history-that-james-baldwin-wanted-america-to-see">“The
History that James Baldwin Wanted America to See,”</a> by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The social commentary inside the
arts criticism of Wesley Morris, including <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/03/arts/george-floyd-video-racism.html">this
piece</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Fiction<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Underground Railroad </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by Colson
Whitehead<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Nickel Boys </i>by Colson Whitehead <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Water Dancer </i>by Ta-Nehisi Coates <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sing,
Unburied, Sing </i>by Jesmyn Ward<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Salvage
the Bones </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by
Jesmyn Ward <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Hate U Give </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by
Angie Thomas <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Americanah
</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Brown
Girl Dreaming </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by
Jacqueline Woodson <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So many works by Toni Morrison, James
Baldwin, Ralph Ellison, August Wilson, James McBride, Maya Angelou, Zora Neale
Hurston, Langston Hughes, Lorraine Hansberry, Richard Wright, and Alice Walker,
to name a few<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Books
on My Summer Reading List<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Waking
up White and Finding Myself in the Story of Race </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">by Debby Irving</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks About Race </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">edited by Jesmyn
Ward<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">White
Rage: The Unspoken Truth of Our Racial Divide</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> by Carol Anderson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Begin
Again : James Baldwin’s America and Its Urgent Lessons for Our Own</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> by Eddie S.
Glaude Jr.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Democracy
in Black: How Race Still Enslaves the American Soul</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> by Eddie S. Glaude
Jr.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Yellow House</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">
by Sarah M. Broom <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Negroland: A Memoir</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> by Margo Jefferson</span><br />
<i style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Ultimate Price: The Value We Place on Life</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> by Howard Steven Friedman</span></div>
Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-59741363445264592152020-06-03T19:16:00.000-07:002020-06-03T19:16:57.751-07:00Race in America, Through a Grandfather's Lens <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> It
was around 1930, and my grandfather was playing baseball with a bunch of kids
at his elementary school in the Concord section of Staten Island. He was
playing third base, which was rare for a lefty, and his brother Jack was
pitching. It wasn’t Jack’s day, as he walked a half-dozen batters in a row.
Jack turned to the teacher who was coaching, and asked if his brother could
pitch instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The teacher, Mr. Henry, agreed to the
position switch. He handed my grandfather the ball and let him pitch, for the
first time ever. It was one of those small moments that change a life. My
grandfather spent the better part of his adolescence striking out batters, and at
18 he was offered a contract to pitch for the Brooklyn Dodgers organization. He
had family obligations and it was the Great Depression, so he declined. Six
years after that, though, he signed to pitch with the Boston Braves organization,
and had great success as a minor-league pitcher before calling it quits in
1945.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Throughout every one of those 15
years between my grandfather’s first pitch and his departure from the minor
leagues, the door was open for him to make the major leagues if skill and
fortune allowed it. As for the man who’d pointed him in that direction, this
was never an option. Mr. Henry, you see, was black.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">During our childhood, my brother and I
would spend many Sunday mornings with my grandfather. He’d pick us up from
Sunday School, at a church that is part of the whitest denomination in the
United States. Then he’d drive us around to see relatives, play ball, and visit
his soda warehouse – a distributor business he’d leveraged toward success using
his notoriety as one of the better Staten Island athletes of his generation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our favorite part of these Sundays
involved a trip to a cigar and candy store on Bay Street, where my brother and
I would load up on baseball cards and comic books while our grandfather placed
a few bets on that Sunday’s football games. We’d hustle into the store, as many
of the men walking around this area looked poor and somewhat desperate to us.
Most of them were African-American, and we didn’t know many people who were
black.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Some 35 years later, one mile down the
street from that cigar store, a 43-year-old African-American man was approached
by police under suspicion of selling loose cigarettes. His conversation with
police, the attempted arrest, the chokehold – all are well-documented, and Eric
Garner’s parting words of “I can’t breathe” have been echoed around the world
many times over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">My grandfather was a role model to my
brother and me throughout our lives, in particular for the ways in which he
shared clear-eyed stories of his own mistakes, especially with substance abuse.
He lived most of his life within three miles of the spot where Eric Garner
died, and he did far worse in his life than selling loose cigarettes. But never
did a police officer lay a hand on him, save for his own father, who was a cop.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The world in which my grandfather lived
was built to protect him – a white heterosexual man of German and English
descent who saw around him not just friendly neighbors, but a community in
which systemic racism was as ingrained in society as any law. He was able to
make mistakes, get back on his feet, and live to tell the tale. He could take
advantage of opportunities or bypass them, knowing that there would be a way
forward for him either way. He could buy a house or sell it, and could avoid
Bay Street except for the bets and the baseball cards and the bars where he’d
deliver soda. He could tell his grandsons the story of Mr. Henry and his first
pitching gig without even seeing the irony, because his worldview didn’t
require that he notice it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">When we tell stories of our grandparents’
generation, part of the narrative is supposed to include the message that
things have changed for the better. Yet throughout my grandfather’s life,
people of color on Staten Island and throughout America faced racism every day,
in every way. Eight years after my grandfather died, a man lost his life on Bay
Street in a police chokehold for no reason, and many others died in similar
ways. Six years after that, the streets of America were filled with protests –
in the midst of a pandemic, mind you – after more individuals of color died in
ways we cannot understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I miss baseball. I’ve never experienced a
spring without it. The pitcher’s delivery, the swing, the defense, the cheers,
the high-fives. The absolute necessity of teamwork. The clear lines between
fair and foul. The belief that anything is possible, and the knowledge that
ballplayers of every race will do things that take your breath away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In his later years, my grandfather never
stopped talking about baseball. In fact, shortly before he died – melanoma got
him in the end – he asked me about the following year’s Yankees team, and
whether I thought they’d win it all (they didn’t). Some of his favorite players
were African-American by then, as was his visiting nurse, and some of his
neighbors, and some of his fellow Alcoholics Anonymous members. My grandfather
had taken some clear steps forward for a man of his generation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If he were still here, I know he’d say
that this is not the way for us to treat one another. He’d say we’re supposed
to improve upon generations, not regress. He’d say that Mr. Henry, Eric Garner,
George Floyd, and so many others have every right to the opportunities he had. He’d
say these individuals deserve equality at every level – from the
right to walk down a street to the right to play ball. That shouldn’t be a
question for the world’s biggest experiment in democracy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And yet it still is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-2556534389421132362020-04-26T19:04:00.000-07:002020-04-26T19:04:35.471-07:00The Role Models Who Guide Us <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One of the difficult things about
this time is that many of us are hard-wired to help others, and of course the
best way we can help right now is to stay where we are. There are important
ways we can offer assistance, from donating to relief organizations, to making masks
for essential employees, to donating blood. Another way we can help is by
paying attention to the lives of individuals who guide us toward the better
angels of our nature.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A few weeks ago, my high school commemorated
the one-year anniversary of the death of our late principal, Derrick Nelson, who
died from complications while donating bone marrow to a teen-age boy in France.
This past week, our school initiated a quarterly award honoring students who selflessly
help others. It’s named the “Lift While You Climb” award, in honor of a statement
Nelson once made. He said, “We have an obligation to our fellow human beings
that if we are in a position to help someone, you do it. You lift as you climb.
If you can do that, you have contributed more to society than anything your
bank account can produce and, ultimately, contribute more to your own
well-being.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I think of Nelson and his words while
reading the stories of medical professionals who risk their lives in emergency
rooms around the world. Lacking in sufficient equipment and in experience with
a virus quite like this, our doctors, nurses and other medical staff are using
skill, instinct, collaboration and heart as they serve on the front lines of
this crisis. Last week, I read a doctor’s <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/14/magazine/coronavirus-er-doctor-diary-new-york-city.html">diary
of life in a New York City ER</a>, and I strongly recommend it. The author,
Helen Ouyang, describes what it looks like to stare down a virus as it rages
around you. She feels the stress every day, yet keeps coming back to do the job,
then takes the additional step of sharing that experience with us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>More than 50,000 people have died
from COVID-19 in the U.S., and we mourn those deaths in our own thoughts and in
our collective grief. Some of us have lost loved ones, while others know
students or colleagues who have lost family or friends. My family is actually
mourning the loss of a dear friend who died last week from a different cause. One
of my childhood friends, <a href="https://www.silive.com/news/2020/04/scott-salinardi-45-was-the-heart-and-soul-of-lifestyles-for-the-disabled.html">Scott
Salinardi</a>, died suddenly last week of a heart attack at his home. Scott was
a man who had all of the qualities needed to succeed in any field –
intelligence, personality, optimism, compassion, insight and connections, to
name just a few. After graduating from the University of Chicago and dabbling
in some initial jobs, he chose to devote his working life to serving
developmentally disabled adults. Working alongside his father, Richard (a
leader in serving the developmentally disabled for five decades), Scott helped
run an organization called Lifestyles for the Disabled. He found productive working
environments for hundreds of developmentally disabled adults on Staten Island,
from cooking to horticulture to education to journalism. When not raising his
four daughters with his wife, Sherry, Scott was working all around his hometown,
making it possible for so many adults in this borough to feel fulfillment and
pride in their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Scott was 45 when he died last week;
Derrick was 44 when he passed away last year. Many others have died far too young
during this time of COVID-19, and others, like Scott and Derrick, have left us
too early for other reasons. Losing a loved one can feel paralyzing and
helpless; living through a pandemic can feel like a true onslaught of despair.
And yet, these stories of service can make it much harder to give up. We ask
ourselves: If Derrick could give so selflessly, if Scott could make service his
life’s work, if doctors can risk it all to aid those in need, then who am I to
give in to the despair?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We walk through a different world
right now, one that requires us to keep our distance. But we still have the
ability to walk together in all the ways that matter. And we have role models
to show us the way. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-74589327626171940612020-04-13T14:09:00.001-07:002020-04-13T14:11:11.470-07:00Walking Through the Unknown, Book in Hand<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> This is not a time for giving advice on how to manage the moment. For all of us </span></span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">– </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">educators included </span></span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">– w</span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">e can do no more than be present for one another, support one another, and listen to one another. There is no right way to handle things right now, other than to follow the directives from our health authorities and hang tight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> In the past month, I’ve worked at helping run a school from behind a laptop and smartphone. I’ve spent time with my wife and daughters doing the things that help keep us sane, from family dinners to game nights to movies. I’ve rigged together a workout routine, gone for many runs, walked the dogs each day, tried a few crossword puzzles, and cleaned the house.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> And I’ve also read. I want to focus on the reading in this blog post, </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">because for me, reading has been a way of making sense of this current crisis. </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Reading has always been a way for me to broaden my worldview and gain </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">perspective. During the past month, I’ve tried to be selective with reading </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">material that can help me deepen my own understanding of life right now, and in </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">that sense nourish my soul.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I've definitely read news sources, choosing to stay away from most television and focus on a variety of reputable daily newspapers, </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 48px; white-space: pre-wrap;">from </span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The New York Times </i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">to </span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Washington Post </i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">to </span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Wall Street Journal.</i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I find it essential to know what’s happening without absorbing too much repetitive information, so I give myself a time limit when reading the papers. I’ve also read news sources that give me something else to think about. In particular, the fabulous sports site </span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Athletic </i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">has offered many intriguing stories, most notable Joe Posnanski’s countdown of the top 100 baseball players of all time, featuring a thousand-word essay for each. The countdown ended today with No. 1, Willie Mays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"> In terms of books, I started with a book that a friend had given me, titled </span><i style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Peanuts Papers: Charlie Brown, Snoopy & </i><i style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">the Gang, and the Meaning of Life. </i><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">Edited </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">by Andrew Blauner and featuring essays by many renowned writers, this book </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">analyzes the impact of Charlie Brown, Linus and Snoopy on our culture. It’s a </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">relevant book for our current moment because the dominant theme to the book’s </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">essays is this: Charles Schulz’s comic strip embraced the idea of feeling </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">disappointment while also hoping that the next time will be better. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">The </span><i style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">Groundhog Day</i><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">-like moment we now find ourselves in is not </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">unlike Lucy pulling that football away from Charlie Brown every time. And yet, </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">without fail, he keeps coming back.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I moved on to a history book that's been on my shelf for a few years, about one of the most trying moments in American history: the Dust Bowl. It's titled </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who </i></span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Survived the Great American Dust Bowl, </i></span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">written by Timothy Egan. This one </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">felt </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">like a book I needed to read right now. It is, after all, about a time when </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">part of this country was enduring a nightmare whose end was in no way clear. A </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">time when people walked around with masks on, and could not shake hands (the </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">dusters produced so much static electricity that physical touch could bring </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">about shock). The Dust Bowl is in many ways a story of human-produced climate </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">change, which gives its tale relevance for us already. It’s also about </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">individuals who suffered years worth of weather-related disaster in the High </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">Plains while living in the midst of an economic depression. The stressors </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">compounded, yet these folks had an ability to persevere through hardships I </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in; white-space: pre-wrap;">cannot fully understand. Their determination to keep going astounded me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <span class="apple-tab-span"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">My next choice was a novel that another friend had given me. The book </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Open City </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">by Teju Cole features a narrator who walks the streets of Manhattan and mingles with others in search of meaning – an idea that is refreshing in and of itself right now. Cole’s narrator, Julius, has elements of Holden Caulfield from </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The Catcher in the Rye </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and Meursault from </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The Stranger </span></i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">in him, and his detailed descriptions of the life and art around him serve as windows into his own soul and into human nature. Julius also spends a lot of time with other people, and there are moments when the words in his conversations stayed with me. In one scene, for instance, Julius is talking with others about how prepared we are for unexpected crises. He says, “We are the first humans who are completely unprepared for disaster. It is dangerous to live in a secure world ... we are just as susceptible as any of those past civilizations were, but we are especially unready for it.” Although written several years ago, these words sound like statements we’ve heard many times in the past month.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <span class="apple-tab-span"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">My most recent choice was a book by one of my favorite nonfiction writers, Tracy Kidder. Titled </span><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Strength in What Remains: A Journey of Remembrance and Forgiveness, </span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">this book </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">tells the extraordinary story of a young man who (just barely) escapes violence in both Burundi and Rwanda, and finds himself in New York. As a former medical student in Burundi, he arrives in Manhattan with</span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">no home, and sleeps in Central Park while delivering groceries for $15 a day. To tell you how he goes from refugee to homeless man to Columbia University student to builder of a health clinic in his native country is to give away the rich details that make this such an inspiring tale. It is a story of true grit, extreme trauma, and unyielding aspiration toward a better world. It offered me inspiration in ways that I most definitely needed.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We are all living through our own traumas right now, and stories can serve as powerful beacons of hope. They don’t need to be uplifting to do this. They simply need to bring us closer to a truth that we find real and relevant to the narrative we’re trying to piece together in our own minds. When the words on a page help us do this, we find ourselves living part of the miracle that is human existence. We find words, written by a stranger, that are present for us, that support us, and that listen with us. They empathize, and help us take another step forward through the unknown.</span></span></div>
Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-21792790451503237752020-02-02T13:53:00.000-08:002020-02-02T13:57:22.604-08:00Facing the Tipping Points of 21st-Century Stress<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Last week’s helicopter crash that
killed Kobe Bryant and eight others is a horrible tragedy for the nine
individuals who died, as well as for the many who are mourning their deaths. While
Bryant’s life and legacy are both inspirational and complicated in different
ways, it’s also true that he was 41 years old and in the prime of his adult
life. The death of someone so vibrant and active, who was just starting the
second act of his life, strikes at the heart of anyone in touch with their own
mortality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This particular tragedy may have also
served as a tipping point for some, as they may have experienced so many
stressful events in their communities, country, world and planet in recent
years that they had trouble handling yet another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We all have personal stressors in
our lives, and there are times when those stressors become true crises that profoundly
impact our day-to-day lives. But even when there’s no crisis, and the stressors
are manageable, there seems to be this underlying layer of despair in the world
today. This can make it even more difficult to handle the personal and
community struggles – because we look around and see so many problems tearing
at the fabric of our social, political, ecological and cultural institutions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Those who have been marginalized in
society have felt this underlying stress every day of their lives. Those who
are in positions of privilege may be able to look back on certain decades, such
as the 1980s or ‘90s, with some degree of nostalgia. But the present century has
brought with it so many widespread challenges to all of us: September 11. The wars
in Afghanistan and Iraq. Deadly hurricanes, from Katrina to Sandy to Maria to
Harvey. Other climate-related disasters, from rising sea levels and record
temperatures to massive wildfires and flooding. A global financial crisis. Mass
shootings. The presidential election of 2016, and the pronounced polarization
that has followed it. Mass migration, and the debates over immigration
throughout the world. The shootings of unarmed people of color. Sexual
harassment. Deadly viruses. A widespread lack of civil discourse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Someone who is stressed about a loved
one’s illness, while also dealing with daily personal, domestic and work challenges,
might still find room in their life to take on a couple of these communal
crises: Perhaps they are engaging in some environmental activism, and also
reading about all the presidential candidates, in preparation for voting this
year. They’re full to the brim with things to worry about, and are using their
own version of the Serenity Prayer to stay on top of it all. And then, one
Sunday afternoon, they hop online and see that, of all things, Kobe Bryant is dead.
It can feel like one too many stressors, enough to bring us to a tipping point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When Malcolm Gladwell authored <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Tipping Point</i> in the first year of
this century, he ushered in a new era of social science books dedicated to
helping us figure out how and why we do the things we do. With that book,
Gladwell studied what he called “social epidemics,” and what causes a series of
smaller changes to reach a point where a larger, more systemic change takes
place. Two decades later, we are nearing a point at which our collective
psychological well-being is near a tipping point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As educators, one of our challenges is
to help students and communities find a way to transcend and avoid that level
of despair. Education can inspire us in that way. Social and emotional learning
can inspire us in that way. And building communities of lifelong learners can inspire
us in that way. We can’t control the overall stress levels of our students, but
we can help them search for a way through the stresses by learning, processing,
sharing and growing together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s no coincidence that in this
time period, many have turned toward the words of beacons of light such as Fred
Rogers, Freddie Mercury, Michelle Obama, Bryan Stevenson and Lin-Manuel Miranda.
The same mind that identifies overwhelming stress seeks out ways to manage and overcome
that stress. We feel the despair in the traumas that surround us. But we also
search together for ways to identify and feel hope in the midst of that
despair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>During this century, no athlete has
impacted the sports world more than LeBron James. Now a Los Angeles Laker,
James found himself standing before the crowd at Staples Center on Friday in
the Lakers’ first home game after Bryant’s death. As he held the microphone and
spoke, James’ words applied both to this specific tragedy and to so many of the
crises we all face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’re all grieving, we’re all
hurting, we’re all heartbroken,” he said. “But when we’re going through things
like this, the best thing you can do is lean on the shoulders of your family.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When that tipping point arrives,
James seemed to be saying, we don’t have to handle it alone. We never have to
handle it alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-81442904783730346432020-02-02T13:45:00.000-08:002020-02-02T13:45:16.970-08:00Our Mental Health Moment <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since I began teaching more than 20
years ago, I have seen three seismic changes in education. Early this century,
the passage of No Child Left Behind ushered in both standardized testing and
the role of analytics in education. Seven years ago, the shooting in Newtown,
Conn., led to a series of wholesale changes in school security. And over the
past decade, the increase in mental health struggles among our students has become
a constant presence in our schools.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The movements toward data analysis
and school security are established components of education today, and many
schools have spent years fine-tuning the ways they address these issues. As for
mental health, many schools are still grappling with how to address the
increased numbers of students in need. In the past few years, many schools have
emphasized student wellness as well as Social and Emotional Learning, and schools
also have deepened their partnerships with outside agencies that focus on
mental health. Students have spoken up publicly about their struggles, and
teachers have taken leadership roles in helping students who are struggling
with stress. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The causes of this trend are still
up for debate. In her book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">iGen, </i>psychologist
Jean Twenge draws a correlation between tween and teen smartphone use and
adolescent mental health struggles. Many others have agreed with this theory,
but other studies have refuted this connection between device use and anxiety
or depression. Some point to the pressure of today’s college admissions, and
the many advanced courses and extracurriculars that students are taking to
impress universities. But there are many students struggling with mental health
who are not taking advanced courses. Mental health illnesses also are less
stigmatized today, leading to the possibility that more students are admitting
their struggles without fear of being ostracized. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In all likelihood, there are
multiple reasons for this significant increase. In the meantime, schools are
working diligently to address the struggles our students bring with them to the
classrooms and hallways. I see this every day in my life as an educator, and
also in my life as a parent. I work with students and parents to address issues
of stress, anxiety and depression, and then come home to a teen who is
struggling each day with those issues. My wife and I communicate our daughter’s
struggles to the school, just as many parents do with me. We also support her
at home and connect with outside therapy and agencies, just as many other
parents do. We have made mental-health support a primary part of what we want
in the college she attends. And we try very hard to help her take life one day
at a time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As a parent, it’s enough to wear you
down some days. I carry this experience with me into school, reminding myself
that those parents and students with stories similar to my family’s are likely
doing the best they can. As parents and educators, we don’t yet have clear-cut solutions
to the mental-health struggles of teens. But we know that the one thing we can’t
do is give up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-67978279528416513142020-02-02T13:39:00.001-08:002020-02-02T13:39:50.311-08:00Writing Less (And Learning More)<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For the past year and a half, I have
written much less than in any time period since I switched careers from newspaper
reporter to teacher. From the time I left the newsroom for the classroom in
1999, I kept my fingers close to the keyboard, writing free-lance magazine
stories, blog posts, and even manuscripts. But since I made the transition from
teacher to administrator 19 months ago, I’ve done far less writing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And the reason is simple: I have so
much to learn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m a veteran educator with plenty
of experience and points of view on the subject of supporting high school
students and teachers. I put my experience and perspective to work every day in
the challenging job that I have. But I’m also paying attention to the many areas
of education that I now view from a different vantage point. As I focus on this
learning, I want to allow for as much growth as possible. To me, that means
opening my own mouth (or blog site) less and spending more time reflecting and
processing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There have still been experiences I’ve
found well worth sharing. After all, I enjoy using my communication skills to
engage in educational dialogue. But it’s also important to understand the true
nature of the dialogue before entering into the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I hope to serve as an educational
leader for many years, and to support as many lifelong learners as possible.
But first I need to focus on the learning, and grow with this job. I’m doing my
best, and keeping my eyes wide open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-73127739327151080682019-11-03T17:40:00.000-08:002019-11-03T17:40:28.048-08:00The College Craze <span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">When my older daughter earned a C+
in Geometry Advanced as a freshman, it might have seemed to some like a
disappointment. But to Katie (and her parents), it turned out to be a pretty
big relief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With that one C+, Katie had likely
removed herself from consideration for admission to the elite universities in
America. And she had absolutely no problem with that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We are living through an educational
era dominated by the competition of college admissions. Over the past two
decades, universities have managed to lower their acceptance rates, increase
their tuitions, and draw students and parents into a frenzy over which school
will accept them, and what that will mean for their futures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Journalists such as Frank Bruni and
Paul Tough have written eloquently about this topic, using research- and
anecdotal-based evidence to show that this frenzy is unnecessary. Studies reveal
that hard work and character mean more to an individual’s life success than
which undergraduate school he or she attended. But that message has not been
received by many.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We’ve reached a point where college
preparation is part of the focus even for middle-schoolers. The colleges are
able to direct their admissions departments to consider not only GPA and
standardized test scores for admissions decisions, but also courseload
difficulty. This leads some students to take anywhere from four to six advanced
classes per year. While there will always be some students for whom this is
actually doable and enjoyable, there are many more for whom this means
incredible stress and nowhere near enough sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The interesting thing about this
college crunch is that no student knows for sure which university will be best
for him or her. I am living proof of that. As I applied to colleges during the
autumn of my senior year, I had never earned a grade lower than A, and was on
my way to tying for the school’s highest GPA. I had pressured myself to study
harder and harder throughout high school, and I expected the highest of rewards
from college admissions offices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But when the responses came in, I
was disappointed. Harvard said no. So did Princeton. And Brown. Georgetown,
too. The University of Virginia added its own rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was a valedictorian, yet I’d
received more rejections than acceptances. As I enrolled in the University of
North Carolina, I found myself disappointed and thought I was settling for less
than I deserved. Of course, as I arrived in Chapel Hill, I immediately
recognized that this was a special place. It was a school that asked me to work
hard academically while also living a balanced life. I was expected to spend
hours studying in Davis Library, yet also spend hours in line waiting for
UNC-Duke basketball tickets. I was to write papers, but also write for the
school newspaper. I sat for long lectures, but also sat down for dinner with my
friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If you had offered me, halfway
through my freshman year, a spot at Princeton or Georgetown, I would have turned
you down. Because I’d realized that the school I was attending was in fact the
best fit for me. This was the place where I could grow in the ways I needed
most. Back in high school, there was no way for me to know this for sure. I had
to trust the process, and recognize that there was so much I didn’t know about
my future needs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s so hard to recognize this when
everyone else is talking about the college pressures. It’s hard to take a deep
breath and believe that it will truly turn out fine, and that most of the
undergraduate schools out there are actually offering tremendous opportunities
for us to grow and feel challenged. It’s hard to realize that the schools many
students attend for graduate school might actually mean more toward their
career path, particularly with regard to location. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As educators, we remain deeply
concerned about the college crunch. We keep sharing current research along with
our own experiences when we talk with students and parents. We hope that they
hear our encouragement to live in the moment and stop checking the grade portal
every hour. We encourage students to fully experience high school rather than “doing
school.” We encourage them to recognize that whichever school they attend,
there will be so much opportunity for success. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As for my daughter, she has completed
most of her applications, and has gone on most of her visits. She has a dream
school, but knows it might not offer a financial package we can afford. She has
other schools in mind as well. She wants to be a nurse, and knows there are
many schools prepared to educate her well in that field. She has a guidance
counselor who reassures her that she is on a path toward true success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> I recently finished the payments
that make me a lifetime alumni of the college I attended for undergraduate
school. It wasn’t a huge payment, but it was a way of saying thank you to the school
that gave me what I needed, even when I didn’t know that myself. It was a way
of wishing that all our students could recognize that this is possible for each
and every one of them. Hard work, character, an openness to new ideas, true friendships
– these are the things we need as we grow, at all ages. If the university we
attend encourages these things, we are in good hands. We will be just fine.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-40732270503547768062019-07-20T17:21:00.000-07:002019-07-20T17:21:55.670-07:00Teach Like a DJ<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When I was a kid, there were lots of
things to do on warm summer weekends such as this one: Get to a pool, run
through the sprinkler, chase down a Good Humor truck, watch the Yankees game in
the air conditioning, and play some Atari games. As a lover of pop music and of
lists, there was another treat I enjoyed: Finding a musical “countdown” on the
radio. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sunday mornings brought Casey Kasem’s
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">American Top 40. </i>Saturday evenings
brought Dick Clark’s own radio countdown. In early July, the New York FM
station WNEW would play its “Firecracker 500” of the top rock ‘n’ roll songs of
all time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These countdowns introduced me to
the idea of the disc jockey, as someone who sat in a room, behind a microphone,
and told stories while weaving one song into another. Before media giants
bought most of the radio stations and turned them into auto-programmed playlists,
and before iTunes, Pandora and Spotify turned listeners into their own playlist
creators, we relied on professional DJs to introduce us to songs, and to fill
the airspace in between tunes. There are still some radio stations, both
traditional and satellite, that use DJs. But for the most part, the radio DJ is
a thing of the past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Interestingly enough, when I think
about teaching, I find a lot of similarities between the classroom and the DJ’s
space. I haven’t heard someone encouraging an educator to “Teach like a DJ,”
but if you’ll humor me for a moment, I think it’s good advice, especially for
secondary-school teachers who are seeing students once a day for short periods
of time. Here are some reasons:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Engagement:
</b>Radio DJs have the obvious tool of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">playing
music </i>to engage the listeners, yet teachers who want to engage their students
can start right there: Play some tunes while they are walking into class,
perhaps even while they’re working on their “Do Now” or journal entry. The
classroom engagement can continue by valuing movement in the classroom, and
looking for ways to get students on their feet during class periods. Add in
some strong group and partner conversations and activities, and teachers may
find that their students walk in each day genuinely looking forward to this
class because it engages them each day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Context:
</b>The radio DJ needs to tell us why the music matters, and what it means to us.
That might mean explaining just how many No. 1 hits Michael Jackson now has off
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bad </i>album, giving us the story
behind Kurt Cobain’s writing of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Smells
Like Teen Spirit</i>, or sharing the tale of how the Little River Band got its
name<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. </i>In the classroom, it might mean
showing students how the algebra they’re learning will matter in life, or illustrating
the ways in which Napoleon or Julius Caesar help us understand the nature of
power and the cult of personality. Every student should be able to know the “So
what?” behind the material being taught.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Flow:
</b>Radio DJs, like club DJs, need to segue from one song to another without
losing us. They look for that perfect transition between songs, one that fills the
listener with a kind of joy they didn’t see coming. In the classroom,
transitions are essential as well. If, for instance, our latest environmental
science lab led to some dynamic dialogue about climate change, I want to make
sure our next unit keeps that discussion going, because I’ve got a groove going
in the class right now, and that groove is leading to self-directed learning.
No reason to switch genres right now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Storytelling:
</b>Casey Kasem would stop his countdown at certain points to read a “long-distance
dedication,” directed from one listener to another. He’d read a letter that someone
had written, perhaps a girlfriend whose boyfriend was away at college, or
serving in the armed forces, or taking some time away from the relationship.
Casey would read the letter thoroughly, giving us the details, then connecting
back to the music: “Casey, can you please dedicate <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Open Arms </i>by Journey to so-and-so, who I still love so much.”
Teachers, like DJs, need to keep the stories going – not at the expense of
instruction, but as a way of enhancing instruction. When I taught my journalism
students about the importance of getting your facts right, I stopped and told
them the story of the mock obituary I wrote for my first news reporting course
in college. I received the assignment back and saw a giant letter F on the
paper. The teacher spoke to me afterward and said, “You’re a good writer, and
you’ll do well in this class. But you spelled the person’s name wrong in the
obituary. This is a published document of that person’s life, and the last
chance most families will get to seeing that. You can’t get the name wrong.” As
I told the story, all eyes were upon me, and no one missed the message. They
story had resonated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Choice:
</b>Whether it’s a long-distance dedication or a listener calling in a request,
radio DJs have always offered audience choice in addition to their own song
selections. Teachers, at the same time, must balance the core curricular
decisions they make with student-generated ideas. When we give students
independent choice in assignments, we empower them to take ownership over their
learning in ways that they value deeply. And, at the same time, we gain more
leverage in asking them to hang in with the lessons and units we’re choosing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Incentives:
</b>Radio DJs might offer a pair of tickets to the Madonna concert for the 95<sup>th</sup>
caller, leading to a frenzy of dialing in hopes that somehow, the listener might
hit the jackpot. Teachers usually don’t have concert tickets in hand, but
incentives are important in the classroom nonetheless. It might be something as
simple as rewarding strong participation and behavior with bagels one Friday
morning. Or it might be allowing the class to hold its own holiday celebration
on the day before winter break. These incentives don’t require much work on the
part of the teacher, but they do offer a reason for students to stay tuned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Pop
Culture, Always: </b>The radio DJ and the songs played are part of the pop culture
scene, but DJs are also eager to reference other entertainers, songs, movies,
TV shows or anything else that spices up the conversation. Teachers can do the
same, finding a current news story that leads into this week’s physics unit, or
a modern-day celebrity whose story reminds us in some ways of Macbeth. That
doesn’t mean pandering to our students, but it can lead to some great openings.
If I’m asking students to read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Frankenstein
</i>and talk deeply about whether humans are inherently good or evil, I might
ask them to find a short video on YouTube, Vine or Tik Tok that illustrates one
side of this debate. The responses I get may solidify the learning for them in
some significant ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Oldies
and New Hits:</b> Some of those old-school DJs were playing music from “the ‘60s,
‘70s and today” or whatever eras their stations were focusing on at that time. They
knew that listeners wanted to hear the comfort of classics along with the shock
of the new. Musicians, too, have always been interested in celebrating the past
and present, from singing about the past (“Summer of ‘69”) to sampling songs
from the past within a newer song (more hip hop songs than we can count).
Teachers will find that some students genuinely want to read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Gatsby, </i>because they find the
writing and the themes to be timeless. But they also wouldn’t mind trying out
something by Jacqueline Woodson or Colson Whitehead, because, well, these
authors are delivering the hits of today, and their work matters just as much
as the stories we’ve taught in years past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Find
Your Voice: </b>The DJ works on vocal delivery, on word choice, and on knowing
when to step back from the mic. The DJ wants to feel like a trusted friend to
listeners, and wants to come across as genuine. Whenever I turn to a radio
station and Delilah is on, I don’t know if I’m going to want to hear the adult
contemporary song she’s about to play; but I do know that I’m going to feel
respected by her delivery. Teachers work so hard to find their voice in the
classroom. They often reach a point where they stop trying to be what the educational
textbooks say they should be, and start incorporating their true selves into
the instruction. Teachers want their voice to impact the instruction in a
positive way. I never had the most dynamic voice in the room, but I kept an
even keel almost all the time, and spoke in a soothing tone. One student, with
whom I was close, would make fun of me as I walked into class, saying, “Oh no,
here he comes with that monotonous voice of his.” This was, for a teenager
steeped in sarcasm, a compliment to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Stay
Humble:</b> A radio DJ can go by a catchy nickname (“Wolfman Jack,” “Shadoe
Stevens”) that serves as a sign that he or she has made it big. But in the end,
every DJ is only as good as his or her latest broadcast. The reputation may be
there, but you’ve got to bring it every day to maintain that rep. Teachers have
the same responsibility: Prepare the lesson, deliver it well, make it count. Humility
is essential in order to avoid resting on one’s laurels. As Casey Kasem said
each week, “Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Connect:
</b>The last, and perhaps most obvious, piece to the DJ-teacher metaphor is
that both are grounded in making human connections. As I sat there with my boom
box playing in my bedroom, I was looking in some way to engage with that DJ
through his or her words, delivery, and song choice. What came out of those radio
speakers was incorporated into the life I was living at the time. Students are
no different; they hear and see the teachers, and they are paying some level of
attention. But when you put the academic, the social and the emotional learning
together, are they leaving that classroom feeling known, cared about, and
instructed? That’s the magical part, where we do so much more than teach the Revolutionary
War or French verb conjugations. Our connections go beyond the content of the
songs or lessons, and into the deeper human fabric that leaves someone feeling
valued and understood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> It’s not easy to find a great radio
DJ today. But the work they did is part of our cultural history of storytelling
and communication. If educators heed the lessons of this craft, we might find that
it’s always possible to teach like a DJ. In some ways, it’s essential that we
do so. It’s one way to ensure that the hits just keep on coming.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-7723314808755765152019-07-05T18:45:00.003-07:002019-07-05T18:45:59.096-07:00Mentors and Media Literacy <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> It
has been three months now since our school principal, Derrick Nelson, passed
away. His life and impact have been honored and celebrated in many ways, from
the floor of the House of Representatives to the flags at half-staff across New
Jersey to the local Memorial Day parade in his honor. Our students, staff and
parents have continued talking about Derrick. We still recognize him as a role
model, and still hear his words and laughter in our minds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But even so, time passes. Our school
held a prom, awards night and graduation without Derrick. A new principal was
appointed last week. Derrick’s family cleaned out his office this week. The
school keeps opening its doors every day, and we have work to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On the Friday before he became ill,
Derrick allowed me to present a professional-development workshop on media
literacy to several staff members. There was a lot of enthusiasm for this topic
during and after the workshop, but I had not been able to follow up on it
because our school year changed so dramatically when we returned after that
weekend in February.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Today, I found myself in an empty
office, the sole administrator on duty this day after July 4. So I opened up a
textbook on media literacy and got back to work, preparing for ways to support
our staff as they address media messages with their students.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I first noticed our country’s need for media
literacy long before smartphones and social media changed our means of communication.
Twenty-five years ago, just before summer began, a low-speed car chase took
place throughout Los Angeles, and as millions upon millions of Americans became
aware of this event, the name O.J. Simpson stood to symbolize a sea change in
media consumption.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Throughout my childhood, media messages
were consumed at certain agreed-upon times, and in certain agreed-upon ways.
The TV news could be watched at 5, 6 or 11 p.m., on a square television set in
the living room. Sports and weather would air at 20 minutes past the hour. Movies
were watched in theaters or via VCR, and private telephone conversations
required stretching the cord from kitchen to bathroom. Video games could be
played with a console, and music could be listened to via tape, then CD.
Newspapers and magazines were printed, on paper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Media technology was already changing quickly
by 1994, but the O.J. chase and subsequent trial saw us develop a collective mindset
in which we could no longer wait until a certain time of day to learn what was
happening in the world. The 24-hour cable news stations sensed this, and they
hustled to provide us with at least one new nugget of info on O.J. each day. The
internet soon blossomed with more messages than we could possibly consume, and
late-night talk show hosts provided satirical commentary. It would take more
than a decade before we were holding iPhones in our hands and posting “Michael
Jackson RIP” tributes on Facebook. But the groundwork had been laid, and we were hungry for
new information, all the time. When the O.J. trial was over, we devoured new,
juicy tales, from a president and his intern in the Oval Office to hanging
chads in Florida to the children of O.J. lawyer Robert Kardashian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The devices we now hold have taken this
all to an entirely new level, of course, to the point where we are media
consumers nearly every moment of the day. Educators have been reflecting on how
they wish to address media consumption through their lessons and units,
considering just how much media-saturated their students are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But media literacy is not about trying
to change students’ habits or shaming them for spending so much time on Instagram.
It is, instead, about critically analyzing the media messages we consume and
create, and reflecting on the impact these messages have on our society and on ourselves.
Becoming media literate goes beyond merely knowing that our current president
is the first to use Twitter so extensively. It asks us to analyze the impact of
his Twitter use, from his choice of words and punctuation to the audience
response to the impact on traditional news media. It asks us to compare his social
media communication to other presidents’ use of new media, and to consider
where this takes us as a society. It asks us to compare his use of Twitter to
our own, and to determine if there’s a difference, and why. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As I worked and reflected on media
literacy today, it felt good to get back to this. I look forward to talking
about it with my peers again in the year ahead. Thanks to a statewide mentoring
program, a veteran administrator has been assigned to help me during these
first two years as an assistant principal, and she is interested in the media
literacy work as well. When we spoke last week, my mentor asked how things were
going; she has used multiple forms of media to check in on me (text, email,
phone and, of course, in-person meetings). As we sat in my office, she noticed
that my room is filled with one particular medium – books – and asked me to
share a few titles that have impacted me as an educator. I’m not sure she knew
what she was getting into – after I had told her about five or six books, I
finally stopped myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Another piece to being media literate is
knowing which forms of media your mind and body need at certain times. After a
year that has been trying in ways I never could have imagined, I need some time
to rest and reflect this summer. So I am reading. And writing. And listening to
music (currently going through Elton John’s albums from the ‘70s).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Just as Derrick did, my mentor
recognizes that I work hard and strives to support that. But she also wants to
make sure I’m taking care of myself. My late boss would want nothing less. So
pardon me while I finish this up and grab my book. I just started one about baseball
stadiums and their impact on America’s concept of public spaces. It’s not
Instagram, for sure. But it’s what I need right now.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-58097211067024277242019-04-13T10:08:00.000-07:002019-04-13T10:08:04.143-07:00Derrick Nelson <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When you see news trucks in front of
a high school, it’s usually not a good sign. This week at my school, the trucks
were out in full force. But there was no school shooting, no acts of violence,
no arrests, no protests. There was just a lot of quiet mourning in the halls,
classrooms and courtyards of Westfield High School.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nearly eight weeks ago, I became
aware that something horrible and potentially tragic had taken place during a
procedure in which my boss, Dr. Derrick Nelson, was donating bone marrow cells to
try and save the life of a boy in France for whom he was a match. The complication
resulted in Nelson being in a coma for seven weeks, and he passed away last
weekend. Nelson was the principal of Westfield High, a proud Army Reservist, a
father, fiancé, son, friend, Delaware State alum, Omega Psi Phi fraternity
brother, and Plainfield, NJ, native and resident.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Students and staff have known for
weeks that Dr. Nelson was sick, although the specific details were not released
to most in order to afford the family the privacy it needed. News of Nelson’s
death brought immediate grief, and that grieving will continue for some time.
When leaders and selfless givers depart from this world, we are left with holes
that don’t fill themselves easily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In our school’s journalism program,
we discuss and debate the definition of news – what makes a newsworthy story?
Is it what the public needs to know, or what it wants to know? Is it
informative news? Sensationalism? Partisan politics? Internet-fueled images and
videos? While those questions are at the heart of today’s journalism
instruction, there are also times when news decisions make themselves, and
reporters know instinctively that a story needs to be told. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That was the case with the death of
Derrick Nelson. When the news trucks showed up, they were there for good
reason. This man’s story was well worth telling, and his life’s work was well
worth sharing. This past week, individuals from throughout the region, country
and world have learned about Derrick Nelson. That is a very good thing. There
is tragedy, of course, at the heart of why they learned. But to know this man’s
story and his unwavering commitment to service is to know something more about
the better angels of our nature.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dr. Nelson hired me out of the
classroom less than a year ago, and I am an assistant principal because, quite
simply, he and our superintendent chose me. He asked me, during our midyear
review, how I thought he was doing in supporting me. I told him that he was in
many ways the perfect boss, because he set clear standards and also gave me the
freedom to try my own methods of leadership and learn from them. The Friday
before his procedure, he allowed me to give two presentations at a staff
in-service day, one on media literacy and the other on social and emotional
learning. Before we parted ways for the weekend, he told me who he had chosen
for our school’s “Unsung Hero” award, to be presented at a Union County event.
A few weeks later, I stood in for him in giving this award to one of our
students. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was a busy Friday when we parted
ways, and as usual the two of us were in the building later than we should have
been, getting a bit more work done before leaving. From the moment I learned of
his illness, there was a heavy weight associated with carrying a combination of
grief, worry, and a desire to support colleagues and students. I’ve done what
all of my fellow school leaders have done – worked, worked, then worked some
more. I’ve paid attention to the pulse of the building and done what was asked
of me as the junior administrator on staff. I would wake up in the night
thinking of my mentor and friend, I’d find myself saying his name out loud, and
I’d drive up to the hospital to visit. I’d confide in my wife, pastor and
fellow assistant principals, but otherwise I just kept at the work, as I know
my boss would have wanted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>During the week ahead, we will
attend the viewing and funeral for our principal. Our students and staff have a
week off, and when they return we will continue talking about how we’re doing,
how we can support one another, and how we can help his family. The news trucks
will be long gone by then, and we’ll have lots to do: state testing makeups, AP
exam preparation, end-of-year conferences, class scheduling, final budget
orders, and student attendance conferences. More will be added to that list as
well; we’ll be busy, as we always are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our school will continue to function,
because it has to. Our staff will do its work with a heightened awareness of
what our boss would have asked of us. And we will, somehow, keep on going. We
will find our way through staff meetings, awards night, prom and graduation
without him there, and we will carry his spirit with us in all the ways we can.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">They say that we are the authors of our
own life stories, and I agree with this. But sometimes, we are also contributors to others’ life stories. Our own decisions, words, personality or
actions slip inside the pages of another’s narrative, and that person’s life is
never the same. That’s what has happened this week in Westfield, NJ. I know that
Derrick Nelson’s story is now a part of mine, and I will carry that with me
always. The students and staff of Westfield High are saying the same. And,
thanks to some smart news decisions, so are many others, who have paid
attention to his inspiring story and allowed it to resonate.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-65237912047588476152019-03-31T08:23:00.000-07:002019-03-31T08:23:19.631-07:00A Parent's Education <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I
removed all of the tiny screws that held together the base of her Chromebook. When
I had taken them out, I used a small flathead screwdriver to pry the keyboard
up from the base, revealing the guts of the modest computer. I unfastened the
battery’s connection to the motherboard, performed a few more functions that a
YouTube video told me to do, then refastened the battery, keyboard and screws.
I pressed the power button, and my daughter’s computer was up and running
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She is 17 years old, and is in the
midst of her first major research paper. It’s a rite of passage at her school,
the junior research paper. She loves her topic, because it’s related to health
care and she wants to be a nurse. She’s approaching the finish line, and her
teacher has applauded her enthusiasm. Perhaps the most valuable part of this
experience, however, has been the fact that she’s done it all herself. Her dad,
the educator and writer, has not seen a word of this paper. My job is to fix
the Chromebook, not to concern myself with the words that the computer produces
when used.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She is 17 years old, and she needs
to know that she can get a lot done without parental involvement. She is
driving her own car now, joining her own gym, and occasionally making her own
dinner. As she visits colleges, she prefers to go with my wife, and my role is
to help research the schools and make reservations for visits. I miss the
experience of checking out colleges, but understand her need to sort through
this decision without too much advice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of course, there are times when she
reaches out for help with difficult situations that produce anxiety and stress.
My wife and I respond to those requests with whatever level of parental
assistance seems necessary. We may have been “helicopter” parents at one time,
but that level of involvement is not helpful anymore. Our instincts hold us
back from being “snowplow” parents, as we want her to find her own way through
the struggles in life. When asked by the school if we wanted to drop a course
that she was struggling with earlier in the year, we said no; with independence
comes a need for resilience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her research paper is about the
current public health crisis stemming from unvaccinated Americans, and the ways
in which the internet has fueled opposition to vaccines. We’ve talked about the
topic, and I’ve shared with her articles that I’ve found on the topic. It’s
hard to read through a paper without stumbling upon another article on this
topic, so I’ve shared them and she’s thanked me. But when I’ve asked if she
wanted any parental proofreading, she has respectfully declined. This is a
grade she wants to earn through her own efforts, and no one else’s.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> My wife and I know that our
assistance is still needed; we have a number of parenting experiences and
decisions ahead of us with this young adult. But our education right now is one
of adjusting to the job description of parent, and stepping back in important
ways. It’s not always easy to recognize that this is needed. But we’re trying.
And in the quiet of our kitchen late at night, I carefully turn the screws on
the kid’s computer, finding my new role and hoping it can help her punch those
keys on her own.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-45622018735172871452019-01-05T15:13:00.000-08:002019-01-05T15:13:45.532-08:00Looking Toward the Light <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">With so many
concerns affecting our nation, world and planet, it can be tempting to lose
hope. An overload of vitriol, vendettas and violence threatens to establish volatility
as the status quo. In times like this, it takes a deeply concerted effort to
stem the tide of negativity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So often, we turn to education and
the arts in search of solutions to the stresses. We begin by looking for a
window into what ails us, through investigation, perspective and reflection. We
welcome a reason to breathe deeply, think different, and find a way forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Many Americans have turned to podcasts
in recent years as trusted sources of information. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">60 Minutes </i>of podcasts remains <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This
American Life, </i>which for more than 20 years has been producing weekly stories
based around a single theme. Many of the show’s episodes in recent months have
focused on how our government operates today, and many others have looked
deeply into immigration. Tomorrow, the show will release a new episode on
border walls around the world. I know that I will be listening and learning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Documentaries are in a golden age right
now, as so many filmmakers are experimenting with different ways of crafting
nonfiction movies, and streaming services such as Netflix offer new ways for
viewers to access these films. Last week, my brother Eric, who writes about
documentaries for many publications and also serves as film curator at the
Museum of the Moving Image, introduced me to a 10-part documentary series that
appeared on Starz last year. It’s called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">America
to Me, </i>and it chronicles a year in the life of an Illinois high school. The
series, which was created by Steve James (best known for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hoop Dreams </i>and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Interrupters</i>), is a stunning look into the ways in which teens and teachers
learn about one another, society at large, and themselves in the world of
American public education. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Young adult books have never been more
popular, and agents and publishers have worked diligently to find authors who
specialize in connecting with younger readers. Jacqueline Woodson is about as
good as it gets in young-adult fiction these days, and her recent book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Harbor Me </i>follows a half-dozen students
whose teacher gives them a chance to meet, once a week, by themselves in a
classroom to talk. They call it the ARTT room (“A Room to Talk”) and in that
space, these six students make connections that allow them to gain some amazing
degrees of understanding, empathy and compassion. I’m not a young adult
anymore, but I couldn’t put the book down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">History books line the bestseller lists
today, many of them trying to help us make sense of the chaos in our country
and world. Perhaps the most-praised history book in recent months is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">These Truths </i>by Jill Lepore, an
ambitious, 800-page text that chronicles the entire history of the United
States. In doing so, the book asks if “these truths” that the Declaration
declared to be “self-evident” – political equality, natural rights, and the
sovereignty of the people – have indeed been met in these past two and a half
centuries. I just started the book, and I know it will take awhile for me to
get through it. But I’m committed to reading, reflecting and reconsidering my
own assumptions and biases. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Teenagers are always pointing a way
forward for those of us paying attention. This weekend, I’m helping to
chaperone a Model United Nations conference, in which 200 of my school’s
students and hundreds more are gathering in a Pennsylvania hotel to present
papers, resolutions and amendments in a mini-UN filled with delegations,
chairpersons and a down-to-the-minute itinerary. It’s the kind of stuff that
takes your breath away and leads you to believe that, if we don’t scar them
first, these young people can help us all find a path toward understanding, collaboration
and fellowship. I just watched two delegations debating education and refugee
issues, and while there was no universal agreement, there was a ton of listening,
learning, and respecting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Most of the educational programs and
arts initiatives in this world are beyond my knowledge, so these few examples
are just the tip of the iceberg. But they are a reminder, to me, of where I want
to spend my energies when considering a way out of the darkness in today’s
world. When I learn from these students, artists and journalists, I have one
job: To think about the ways in which the stories I’m seeing and hearing can be
channeled into my own interactions with the world around me. One person, one
step, one day at a time: That’s the most we can ask, but it’s our
responsibility to pay attention and look toward the light.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-56609053524845137182018-11-18T19:06:00.001-08:002018-11-18T19:06:11.133-08:00Using the Past to Navigate the Present <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> One
of the most fulfilling parts of my administrative work this year has been observing
classes and learning from my fellow educators. I’ve been assigned to observe
teachers in a few different departments, one of them being social studies. As I’ve
sat through many classes in this discipline, I’ve realized that students are
gaining more than facts and dates in today’s social studies classes. They are gaining,
from their teachers, a chance to understand the present through the lens of the
past. Never has that been more needed than at this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At their best, social studies
teachers avoid the sound bites, the pundits and the social media comments. They
focus instead on depth of study and of thought. They encourage reflection,
deliberation and collaboration. They help students re-discover the reality that
nothing has ever come easy in America, that despite our freedoms and
opportunity we often take steps forward and backward at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The students in these classes read
stories of individuals who have never given up on the promise of America. They
study leaders who were unwilling to stop reaching toward the promise of the
Declaration, toward a fuller and more just Constitution, and toward an
electoral process that represented everyone. They write essays and DBQs and
take part in class discussions and presentations about the constant tug and
pull of American history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The challenges of this divided
nation are growing by the day. It’s reached a point where many of us can feel
this underlying vibe of stress connected with our national events and political
sphere. Even on our best days, many of us still feel the static queasiness of “What’s
next?” In relating that feeling to the teens in my school, I wonder if one
social studies class per day is enough at this point. These classes, as great
as they are, have curricula to cover. Our kids have questions about issues all
over the map, literally and figuratively. We owe it to them to answer those
questions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Book groups, discussion clubs and additional
humanities-based study are all emerging in my school as well. Some teens are
recognizing that as lifelong learners they’ve got a responsibility to deepen
their understanding of the challenges we face. At my church, we’ve had teen
discussion groups related to race this year, and we’ve combined conversation, video
and reading to try and understand America’s history of race relations. My
church is definitely not the only extracurricular group offering students the chance
to think about American history. Pop culture is doing its part, too, from film
to television to music videos. Streaming services like Netflix, YouTube and
Spotify offer many volumes of though-provoking media. And yes, there are still
books that students are reading – and enjoying – on their own.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Education is grounded in the free
association of ideas and the belief that our students can become our next
leaders. As we work toward that goal, it’s essential that we recognize that different
eras bring different responsibilities. This time period calls for a deep dive
into history, journalism, literature and media, to gain a stronger sense of
where we are, how we got here, and how we can move forward. As I see this at
play throughout and beyond my school, I see many reasons to hope. The only way
forward is to keep exploring both yesterday and today.</span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-27682581153558186082018-09-08T18:55:00.001-07:002018-09-08T19:08:02.210-07:00Decorating the Office <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve never had an office before.
Cubicles and classrooms defined the first 25 years of my working life, which
was just fine, thank you. But as a school administrator, I get an office. It’s
tiny, with most of the floor space taken up by a large desk, file cabinets and a
bookcase. But there’s also plenty of wall space, and that’s where I had to make
choices upon entering the room.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What would I hang on the walls of my
office? And what would that say about my values as an assistant principal? As
students began entering the office during this first week of school, I happily
gave them a tour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One wall was reserved for a series
of Apple “Think Different” posters that my wife gave me during my first year of
teaching, 19 years ago. I’ve had them up every year since, so there was no
doubt that they would make their way into the room. They feature black-and-white
photos of famous innovators, from Mahatma Gandhi to Amelia Earhart to Jim
Henson to Pablo Picasso. The “Think Different” slogan has always fit into my
core values as an educator, so I want students to see those words as often as
possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There are no diplomas on the walls,
but there is a teacher award plaque and photos of my students, one of them a
framed photo of a journalism class given to me last year by the students themselves.
Another photo was sent to me from a just-graduated senior, who is studying
abroad in her first semester of college and wanted me to see her enjoying a
rugby game in New Zealand. Another photo shows students from the community
service club I’ve advised, posing with a patient from Children’s Specialized
Hospital during a dance marathon fund-raiser. With these snapshots from my
teaching life, I hope to show students how much I care about their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There is a small, three-tiered table
in a corner, which features an old-school typewriter on the top level, a
reporter’s notebook and recorder on the second level, and a newspaper drawing
on the bottom. The table reminds me of the journalism that serves as the foundation
of my work experience, work ethic and work philosophy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bookshelf features texts that support
my work in education and adolescent development (from Carol Dweck’s <i>Mindset</i> to
Susan Cain’s <i>Quiet</i> to Angela Duckworth’s <i>Grit</i> to Frank Bruni’s <i>Where You Go is
Not Who You’ll Be</i>), as well as books that encourage dialogue on social justice
and community engagement (Ta-Nehisi Coates’ <i>Between the World and Me</i>, Bryan
Stevenson’s <i>Just Mercy</i>, Rebecca Skloot’s <i>The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks</i>, James
McBride’s <i>The Color of Water</i>). There are also books that remind me of how I grew
into my role as an educator and thinker, from authors such as Jonathan Kozol,
Anna Quindlen, Fred Rogers and Ralph Ellison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Outside my door, there are two
dry-erase boards: One for students who need to leave me messages, and one
featuring an inspirational quote of the day. On the first day of school, I
posted a quote from the writer Rainer Maria Rilke: “And now we welcome the new
year, full of things that have never been.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Beyond the innovators, snapshots,
mementoes, books and words, there’s another piece to this room that serves as
perhaps the most visible part of my office décor. On three of the walls, I have
hung photos and drawings of bridges. Many of them depict the Brooklyn Bridge,
which has long been my favorite New York City landmark. From poster-sized photos
to <i>New Yorker</i> covers to a painting by my daughter, I surround myself with the
135-year-old architectural beauty that spans the East River because I find it incredibly
inspiring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But as a writer and English teacher, I
also see a metaphor here. Adolescence is, in many ways, a bridge between
childhood and adulthood. And administrators are often bridge-keepers who help
connect students, faculty, parents and the overall community with one another.
Finally, schools themselves are bridges, designed to help learners connect with
one another, with academic disciplines, and with their own individual thoughts.
We’re constantly building bridges for students as they share information, and also
within students as they connect the dots between prior knowledge and new discoveries,
between assumptions and reality, and between fact and fiction. In so many ways,
educators are the engineers of personal growth, and it is our job to keep the
pathways clear for students to make important crossings and to take the risk of
reaching for the other side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There are a lot of quotes out there
supporting this metaphor, but I’ll leave you with one. During a lecture 55
years ago, Ralph Ellison said, “Education is all a matter of building bridges.”
This seems as true to me today as it was to Ellison in 1963.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So yes, I have an office now. But the essence
of my work remains the same as it ever was. In case I forget that, I’ve got the
bridges to remind me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-36353890852554918972018-08-15T18:54:00.001-07:002018-08-15T18:54:28.418-07:00The Athlete as Educator <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The public school that LeBron James
and his foundation opened in Akron, Ohio, two weeks ago is impressive on so
many levels. It goes out of its way to service students who are struggling
academically and have had difficult childhoods, and it offers so many layers of
support, from small class sizes to daily meals to a longer school day and year.
His foundation also offers educational opportunities for students’ parents, and
free tuition to the University of Akron for students who have received
mentoring in his program. Like Bill and Melinda Gates and other educational
philanthropists, James is ensuring that his commitment to education is grounded
in strategies that researchers have deemed successful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>President Trump’s comment about
James’ intelligence misses the point entirely, as this is an athlete with more riches
than he can imagine, yet he’s choosing to commit significant time and money to
students whose futures hang in the balance. James’ school will receive plenty
of attention in the years ahead, and he will surely be there to oversee and
continue supporting it; in so many ways, this is as wise an investment as any
American can make. James’ is by no means the only urban school that is working
to turn lives around, but it’s most definitely a model for others to consider
following. In that sense, James is an athlete and leader who many of us might
consider emulating as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Curtis Granderson, the Toronto Blue
Jays outfielder who has played for a number of teams in his baseball career,
has taken a similar approach in terms of using his platform as a professional
athlete to serve others. Granderson has promoted education, fitness and
nutrition throughout his career, from his own foundation to the ballfield he
helped build in Chicago. Granderson has won the Roberto Clemente Award, given
annually to a major leaguer who has exemplified service and sportsmanship. Like
James, Granderson sees his success as an opportunity to bring along younger
generations, just as his parents – both educators – did for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Earlier in the summer, there was widespread
coverage of James’ decision to sign with the Los Angeles Lakers. Right now,
there’s talk about whether or not Granderson will be traded to the New York Yankees or
some other team this month, as his Blue Jays are out of contention. While
sports signings and trades are interesting, my real question about these
30-something athletes is what they’ll do with their careers after retirement.
In what ways will they lead when they actually have the chance to serve their
communities full-time? Will James open more schools? Will Granderson run for
office? How will they lead?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In my school, I have a bunch of
sports books on hand for any student who’s looking for a nonfiction read. Some
of these books focus on athletes who have had impacted both sport and society,
from Clemente to Arthur Ashe to Bill Bradley to Jackie Robinson. Their stories
are some of the most important American narratives of the last 70 years, as
they mark a place where fame and popular success overlap with civic engagement
and a much deeper sense of victory. I hope we commit more time in our schools
to reading and discussing the impact of sport on society. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">In a lot of ways, the most fascinating
athletes in society are the ones who add to their highlight reels after hanging
up their spikes. Instead of game-winning baskets or home runs, this new footage
captures these men and women changing the world, one step at a time. So whoever
you play for, LeBron and Curtis, I’m not worried – just keep on following that
famous mantra: We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we
give.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261800129808527860.post-71490565668646326232018-07-16T18:01:00.000-07:002018-07-16T18:01:35.534-07:00The Puppy Days of Summer<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>July is a quiet month in most school
buildings. It’s a time when administrators, custodians, computer technicians and
secretaries do a lot of preparing for the onslaught of activity that will take
place in just a matter of weeks. I’ve been enjoying the quiet at school,
especially since life at home is a whole lot more hectic than usual. Two and a
half months ago, we came home with a rescue puppy, and life has most definitely
not been the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I was reminded of how this 60-pound,
6-month-old Labrador/Great Dane mix landed in our house just as I was sitting
in my serene office this past week. You see, one of the ways I’ve been
preparing for my new job as an assistant principal is by studying and reviewing
my school district’s Board of Ed-approved policies, so that when issues arise I
am better versed in the rules. One of the many board policies in our district
is the one regarding live animals. It’s not the most-read policy, of course,
and I would imagine it was designed mostly for science classes. But it can
apply in other ways as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Take this past April, for instance.
One of my colleagues asked if the Community Service Club that I advise would be
willing to welcome a visit from a dog rescue organization for which she
volunteers, as the group was looking for teens to help them out as well. I
asked the students, and they said yes, they’d love a visit. My colleague then
asked if we’d be OK if the dog rescue person brought an actual dog with her to
class. I said no, that wouldn’t be allowed. She said maybe it would, if the
principal agreed to it. I said sure, feel free to ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When my boss was asked about the
dog, he dutifully referred to the aforementioned board policy, which stated
that in this kind of situation, a live animal could enter a classroom if all
students and parents had been informed, and no one was allergic to the animal. I
sent out a note to parents, and a few days later, we had our visit. The dog
rescue worker entered the classroom, followed by a “foster parent” who held the
leash of a 4-month-old Lab/Great Dane nicknamed “Big George” by the rescue
group. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When this black Lab stepped gingerly
into the room, he settled on the floor, resting his head on the leg of a
student who had knelt down to pet him. He seemed like the gentlest puppy I’d
ever met. My students fawned over him, and several of them signed up to
volunteer for the rescue group. As for me, I found myself skimming the
organization’s website, looking at the writeup on Big George. He was found in a
garbage dump in Georgia, it said, and his name came from the theme to this
litter – all of them were named after characters from the novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop
Cafe.</i> I emailed my wife the link and wrote, “I don’t know why I’m sending
you this.” She responded that she didn’t know, either. She passed the link
along to our daughters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We had a dog already. Our 8-year-old
golden retriever, Daisy, was perfectly content, if a little lonely. But she
found her life turning upside down when we brought her to a meet-and-greet with
this friendly puppy. And when we brought that puppy home, Daisy was even more
confused. It was as if she knew what we were in for before we did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We have spent the past 11 weeks
raising a puppy – which, in case you have never done so, is second only to
raising a child in its degree of difficulty. George is growing about 20 pounds per
month, and by the time he’s filled out he will look more like a pony. He likes
to get our attention with a howl that sounds like it came from Chewbacca. When
losing his baby teeth, he would shake his head to try and free the dangling tooth,
thereby sprinkling blood all over the floor. He drinks from his bowl and then
walks away while still swallowing, leaving puddles of water all over the place.
He chewed his leash in half, and chewed the laces off my running sneakers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>George is learning to stop pulling
on his new leash, which is important because he’s almost stronger than we are
already. He wants Daisy to play all the time, but that’s not our older dog’s
style. So between growling and completely ignoring him, Daisy is mentoring
George on the art of settling down. We take him for three walks a day, and he
still has energy to spare. One day he was stung by a bee or wasp, and we had to
give him Benadryl. When the medicine knocked him out, we enjoyed our quietest
night in months. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A day in the life of Big George
features all kinds of fun. Today, for instance, we had a 5:30 wakeup call, as
he howled from inside his crate. I tried to take a nap after work only to have
him hop on the bed next to me and start chomping on a bone. While clearing off
the table after dinner, I was treated to him dipping his snout in the garbage
pail, leaving a trail of couscous across the kitchen floor. And tonight, my
wife says we need to order an XXL dog crate since he’s grown out of the 42-inch
crate we already have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There’s no board policy on raising a
puppy; that’s my own riddle to solve, outside of work time. The dog days of
summer will be more literal than figurative for us this year. But the family
will figure it out together, and George will mature and pay more attention to
our rules. Eventually. Meanwhile, I’ll keep sneaking away to work each day, trying
to recover from dog education by focusing on the education of teenagers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Warren Hyneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320362625908188637noreply@blogger.com2