Somehow, this slipped under my radar when it first passed the Michigan legislative body. Under our teachers' contract, a teacher may opt out of the district health insurance plan and receive a stipend. This move saves the district probably $8,000 per person who opts out. Under the new law, the stipend must be divided up among all members of the union and paid by them.
This is not educational reform. This strips away local control and will ultimately cost districts more money. So, why does it exist?
Union busting in the form of divide and conquer.
I cannot, in good conscience, encourage anyone to go into teaching. Find something where at least politicians will basically leave you alone.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Friday, February 22, 2013
Opt out!
This post is for parents of high school juniors in the state of Michigan. Of course, others are more than welcome to stick around for my plea.
On March 5, 6, and 7, high school juniors in Michigan will endure state mandated testing. Day one will be the ACT, day two will be the Work Keys (by the ACT people), and day three will be the Michigan MME. These tests determine a school's grade and rank in the state. Eventually, they will also determine if individual teachers keep their jobs. If you read my blog regularly, you know that I will likely lose my job because of these tests. You also know that I work in an impoverished area with an extraordinarily. high number of non-English speaking students.
The state spends a ton of money on these tests. If my laptop were not in the shop, I would provide links galore to show you. I'm on my phone, so this will have to do. I am asking parents of high school juniors to keep your kid home on those days. Tell the school that you do not want your child participating in the state testing. Do it especially if your child attends a primarily white district. Then tell your representation in Lansing what you've done and that you're disgusted by the waste of taxpayers money.
This is the only way to stop the madness. If teachers in primarily minority schools refuse to test, we will be viciously attacked. Called parasites and lazy. Someone will demand that we all lose our jobs. But, if you,the parents, refuse to play the game, the game will have to change.
What's the worse that can happen? The district tells your child he/she can't walk the stage on graduation day? That's not exactly like voluntarily walking over a bridge in Selma, knowing full well you were going to take a beating to the head.
I already know what my fate has in store for me. I know that my school will be taken over and that I will be fired for organizing the staff when the for-profit company tries to prevent a union. That is my Selma Bridge. I want to urge you just to keep your kids home, and take a very small stand. You won't lose your job for it.
Keep your high school juniors home on March 5, 6, and 7. It's a small act that could ripple into real change.
On March 5, 6, and 7, high school juniors in Michigan will endure state mandated testing. Day one will be the ACT, day two will be the Work Keys (by the ACT people), and day three will be the Michigan MME. These tests determine a school's grade and rank in the state. Eventually, they will also determine if individual teachers keep their jobs. If you read my blog regularly, you know that I will likely lose my job because of these tests. You also know that I work in an impoverished area with an extraordinarily. high number of non-English speaking students.
The state spends a ton of money on these tests. If my laptop were not in the shop, I would provide links galore to show you. I'm on my phone, so this will have to do. I am asking parents of high school juniors to keep your kid home on those days. Tell the school that you do not want your child participating in the state testing. Do it especially if your child attends a primarily white district. Then tell your representation in Lansing what you've done and that you're disgusted by the waste of taxpayers money.
This is the only way to stop the madness. If teachers in primarily minority schools refuse to test, we will be viciously attacked. Called parasites and lazy. Someone will demand that we all lose our jobs. But, if you,the parents, refuse to play the game, the game will have to change.
What's the worse that can happen? The district tells your child he/she can't walk the stage on graduation day? That's not exactly like voluntarily walking over a bridge in Selma, knowing full well you were going to take a beating to the head.
I already know what my fate has in store for me. I know that my school will be taken over and that I will be fired for organizing the staff when the for-profit company tries to prevent a union. That is my Selma Bridge. I want to urge you just to keep your kids home, and take a very small stand. You won't lose your job for it.
Keep your high school juniors home on March 5, 6, and 7. It's a small act that could ripple into real change.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Empathy
Yesterday, Andrew and I went to the Art Gallery of Windsor to make visual poetry. He was unenthusiastic, declaring, "I hate poetry!" Undaunted, I cajoled the boy into giving it a try.
When we got there, he was his usual ray of sunshine, asking the people in charge thoughtful questions. We gathered out materials and went to work. The idea was to take a copy if what appeared to be an old advertisement and add words. Andrew found an airplane and had a blast. As we were finishing, a young man around 12 and his mom entered the studio. The boy was rocking and whining and crying. He did not want to be there.
The mom spent a few minutes consoling the boy and he agreed to sit with here while she made a visual poem. They sat next to us, about two seats away. The young man held on for as long as he could, but set to whining and crying again. This caught Andrew's attention. My beamish boy walked over to console the boy. He leaned in and said, "It's okay. This is really fun." He then patted the boy on the shoulder. That was not a good idea as the boy nearly elbowed Andrew in the chest. The mom thanked Andrew and I urged him to come back and help clean up.
He was a little shaken up that he had been nearly hit. I was, too. We talked very briefly about it and determined that even if people are uber-crabby to you, you should still be as nice as you can. Perhaps, you can put something into their empty bucket.
Watching that mom and her son, I realized just how lucky I am. My boy is not as severe as that young man. Gone, for the most part, are the days when I think Andrew is going to end up in a group home as an adult. Anyone who can show such kindness to a total stranger is going to do alright and make to world a better place.
When we got there, he was his usual ray of sunshine, asking the people in charge thoughtful questions. We gathered out materials and went to work. The idea was to take a copy if what appeared to be an old advertisement and add words. Andrew found an airplane and had a blast. As we were finishing, a young man around 12 and his mom entered the studio. The boy was rocking and whining and crying. He did not want to be there.
The mom spent a few minutes consoling the boy and he agreed to sit with here while she made a visual poem. They sat next to us, about two seats away. The young man held on for as long as he could, but set to whining and crying again. This caught Andrew's attention. My beamish boy walked over to console the boy. He leaned in and said, "It's okay. This is really fun." He then patted the boy on the shoulder. That was not a good idea as the boy nearly elbowed Andrew in the chest. The mom thanked Andrew and I urged him to come back and help clean up.
He was a little shaken up that he had been nearly hit. I was, too. We talked very briefly about it and determined that even if people are uber-crabby to you, you should still be as nice as you can. Perhaps, you can put something into their empty bucket.
Watching that mom and her son, I realized just how lucky I am. My boy is not as severe as that young man. Gone, for the most part, are the days when I think Andrew is going to end up in a group home as an adult. Anyone who can show such kindness to a total stranger is going to do alright and make to world a better place.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Sigh...
I have been in a sighs-able funk lately. I can only pinpoint it on the fact that I haven't had much of a social life lately. This past week has been demonstrably worse and I blame Valentine's Day.
I have always tried to tell myself that this holiday is meaningless. I pride myself on being a no-fuss, low-maintenance type of gal. I don't wear much jewelry. I often shop re-sale. I was a tom boy growing up. But every time I really try to convince myself that I don't need flowers on February 14, I am telling myself a lie. I have always been secretly envious of the women at work who get flowers. The most romantic Valentine's gift I have ever gotten was an enormous heart-shaped chocolate chip cookie that my then boyfriend made for me. He piped on frosting that spelled out "Happy Valentine's Day" but ran out of room. He also gave me flowers and made dinner for me. We had been dating for about three months and he was still trying to woo me. No other Valentine's gift sticks out in my memory.
I don't want to feel blue about any media-hyped gift giving event. I'm not particularly materialistic and living without a television, I'm not under a media assault to buy junk. These facts do not alleviate my sadness.
For the first time in a long time, I am in the position of kind-of-seeing someone on Valentine's. I have no idea what to expect. I could take the step of out and out saying I expect something. I have never done that because I can't get over the fact that it was my idea and not his. If I like a man and we are dating around a holiday, I agonize over a gift that sets the right tone. I almost never ask a man what he wants as a gift. Perhaps it is unfair for me to expect the same in return. Or is it?
I can't help but feel that buying a Valentine's gift for a woman is not a daunting task. All a man has to do is buy the greatest cliche ever: flowers. This gift requires no thought at all. Unless a woman is a radical enviro-anarchist, we all love flowers. I don't mean flowers for the dining room table or fireplace mantle, I mean flowers that are specifically for her. Delivered, with a card. In my case, delivered to work, as a sign that someone is publicly declaring he likes me. It's not that difficult.
I have always tried to tell myself that this holiday is meaningless. I pride myself on being a no-fuss, low-maintenance type of gal. I don't wear much jewelry. I often shop re-sale. I was a tom boy growing up. But every time I really try to convince myself that I don't need flowers on February 14, I am telling myself a lie. I have always been secretly envious of the women at work who get flowers. The most romantic Valentine's gift I have ever gotten was an enormous heart-shaped chocolate chip cookie that my then boyfriend made for me. He piped on frosting that spelled out "Happy Valentine's Day" but ran out of room. He also gave me flowers and made dinner for me. We had been dating for about three months and he was still trying to woo me. No other Valentine's gift sticks out in my memory.
I don't want to feel blue about any media-hyped gift giving event. I'm not particularly materialistic and living without a television, I'm not under a media assault to buy junk. These facts do not alleviate my sadness.
For the first time in a long time, I am in the position of kind-of-seeing someone on Valentine's. I have no idea what to expect. I could take the step of out and out saying I expect something. I have never done that because I can't get over the fact that it was my idea and not his. If I like a man and we are dating around a holiday, I agonize over a gift that sets the right tone. I almost never ask a man what he wants as a gift. Perhaps it is unfair for me to expect the same in return. Or is it?
I can't help but feel that buying a Valentine's gift for a woman is not a daunting task. All a man has to do is buy the greatest cliche ever: flowers. This gift requires no thought at all. Unless a woman is a radical enviro-anarchist, we all love flowers. I don't mean flowers for the dining room table or fireplace mantle, I mean flowers that are specifically for her. Delivered, with a card. In my case, delivered to work, as a sign that someone is publicly declaring he likes me. It's not that difficult.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
I do not want a gun
There have been many times in my life when people have looked at me in disbelief. That look has often been followed up with the question, "What kind of American are you?"
What have I done in my life to deserve harsh questioning of my citizen's credentials? Usually, I have revealed (to both non-Americans and Americans) something that flies in the face of American stereotypes. For example, I don't put ketchup on my fries (I like mayo). I also don't drink any type of carbonated soft drink - never have. Okay, I have one can of ginger ale in my fridge for when I suffer the occasional upset tummy. I have never sued anyone (though with winter upon us, I am looking for an icy patch on which to slip). I don't own a television. I don't drink coffee. I hate "Black Friday." I hate football. I am, at best, agnostic. All organized religions give me the creeps. Bud Light makes me want to vomit. I'm vegetarian, thus no hamburgers for me. Finally, I have never ever held a gun in my hand. I have seen guns, but I want nothing to do with them.
I am completely exasperated at the current call for teachers to have guns. The massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary was horrifying. I have wept uncontrollably at every gut-wrenching story I have read. This shooting, however, nor any of the mass shootings that have come before this make me want to have a gun. I love listening to every wanna-be Dirty Harry talk about how he (in general) would take down the "bad guy." These machismo-heavy pronouncements remind me the power of fiction.
Think about it. One minute, we have a guy who has spent his entire adult life teaching teenagers manners and some academic skill (let's say accounting), the next minute we have Rambo, saving innocent lives. He's Bruce Willis, he's Charles Bronson, he's John fucking Wayne, feted by a ticker-tape parade and a trip to Disney. Who knew that Americans lived such vivid fantasy lives? All this time, I thought we were the most concrete operational people who had ever ruled the planet. I thought Americans saw the world as black or white, with us or against us. I had us pegged as people who lacked nuance and tact. Such wild fantasies debunk all my beliefs.
Perhaps this is our ultimate problem - we believe our own headline and refuse to read between the lines. Down deep, we all believe that we, through excessive violence, can save the day. You know, like Jesus did. Or Gandhi. Or Dr. King. Or Sheriff Bull Connor. Wait, he doesn't belong on that list. You get my point.
I like the way guns and violence are portrayed in this short clip. It also contains one of my favorite quotes of all time.
What have I done in my life to deserve harsh questioning of my citizen's credentials? Usually, I have revealed (to both non-Americans and Americans) something that flies in the face of American stereotypes. For example, I don't put ketchup on my fries (I like mayo). I also don't drink any type of carbonated soft drink - never have. Okay, I have one can of ginger ale in my fridge for when I suffer the occasional upset tummy. I have never sued anyone (though with winter upon us, I am looking for an icy patch on which to slip). I don't own a television. I don't drink coffee. I hate "Black Friday." I hate football. I am, at best, agnostic. All organized religions give me the creeps. Bud Light makes me want to vomit. I'm vegetarian, thus no hamburgers for me. Finally, I have never ever held a gun in my hand. I have seen guns, but I want nothing to do with them.
I am completely exasperated at the current call for teachers to have guns. The massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary was horrifying. I have wept uncontrollably at every gut-wrenching story I have read. This shooting, however, nor any of the mass shootings that have come before this make me want to have a gun. I love listening to every wanna-be Dirty Harry talk about how he (in general) would take down the "bad guy." These machismo-heavy pronouncements remind me the power of fiction.
Think about it. One minute, we have a guy who has spent his entire adult life teaching teenagers manners and some academic skill (let's say accounting), the next minute we have Rambo, saving innocent lives. He's Bruce Willis, he's Charles Bronson, he's John fucking Wayne, feted by a ticker-tape parade and a trip to Disney. Who knew that Americans lived such vivid fantasy lives? All this time, I thought we were the most concrete operational people who had ever ruled the planet. I thought Americans saw the world as black or white, with us or against us. I had us pegged as people who lacked nuance and tact. Such wild fantasies debunk all my beliefs.
Perhaps this is our ultimate problem - we believe our own headline and refuse to read between the lines. Down deep, we all believe that we, through excessive violence, can save the day. You know, like Jesus did. Or Gandhi. Or Dr. King. Or Sheriff Bull Connor. Wait, he doesn't belong on that list. You get my point.
I like the way guns and violence are portrayed in this short clip. It also contains one of my favorite quotes of all time.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
We'll fight them in the Senate!
Today, workers in the state of Michigan suffered a considerable set back when the state house vote to pass "Right to Work" legislation. If you remember my entreaty to vote yes on Proposal 2, there are many problems with "right to work" states. Well, here we are Michigan.
The Senate will take up the bill next week. According to the AFT, there are a number of state senators who are on the fence about this legislation. We must put the pressure on now to help them decide which side of the fence to choose. Call the following senators and please call them often.
District 15 - Mike Kowall 517-373-1758
District 16 - Bruce Caswell 517-373-5932
District 17 - Randy Richardville 517-373-3543
District 20 - Tonya Schuitmaker 517-373-0793
District 22 - Joe Hune 517-373-2420
District 24 - Rick Jones 517-373-3447
District 26 - Phil Pavlov (don't get me started on this guy) 517-373-7708
District 29 - Dave Hildenbrand 517-373-1801
District 31- Mike Green 517-373-1777
District 32 - Roger Kahn 517-373-1760
District 33 - Geoff Hansen 517-373-1635
It doesn't matter where you live, just call these senators to let them know that "right to work" for less legislation is bad for Michigan.
Here is the phone list for all senators. Heck call as many as you can and keep them on their toes. If you want to know about your specific senator, take a peek at this map to find your senator.
While you're at it, look at what's coming down the road for public education in Michigan - a parent trigger bill.
I wonder, once public education is fully in the hand of private, for-profit companies, how long will it be before parents are nickled and dimed on everything except tuition. Uniforms, you know because we fear children expressing themselves through fashion choices. Books. Extra-curricular activities. Locker rentals. I mean, the Steinbeck says, the monster "breathe (sic) profits"
The Senate will take up the bill next week. According to the AFT, there are a number of state senators who are on the fence about this legislation. We must put the pressure on now to help them decide which side of the fence to choose. Call the following senators and please call them often.
District 15 - Mike Kowall 517-373-1758
District 16 - Bruce Caswell 517-373-5932
District 17 - Randy Richardville 517-373-3543
District 20 - Tonya Schuitmaker 517-373-0793
District 22 - Joe Hune 517-373-2420
District 24 - Rick Jones 517-373-3447
District 26 - Phil Pavlov (don't get me started on this guy) 517-373-7708
District 29 - Dave Hildenbrand 517-373-1801
District 31- Mike Green 517-373-1777
District 32 - Roger Kahn 517-373-1760
District 33 - Geoff Hansen 517-373-1635
It doesn't matter where you live, just call these senators to let them know that "right to work" for less legislation is bad for Michigan.
Here is the phone list for all senators. Heck call as many as you can and keep them on their toes. If you want to know about your specific senator, take a peek at this map to find your senator.
While you're at it, look at what's coming down the road for public education in Michigan - a parent trigger bill.
I wonder, once public education is fully in the hand of private, for-profit companies, how long will it be before parents are nickled and dimed on everything except tuition. Uniforms, you know because we fear children expressing themselves through fashion choices. Books. Extra-curricular activities. Locker rentals. I mean, the Steinbeck says, the monster "breathe (sic) profits"
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