The Mind Body Connection

Working out at the WG Rec Center this afternoon, we were joined by one of the firehouse crews who arrived in their ladder truck and ambulance, so obviously still on their shift. As I was circling the room waiting for Carolyn, who had been interrupted by a phone call, to finish, I thanked some of them. I jokingly noted to one that on TV, responder houses all have cool tricked out weight rooms. Apparently the WG house has a small one, but not enough for the whole crew to get in a workout. I realized that maintaining physical conditioning is really a job requirement for first responders. 

My mind drifted, as it is wont to do these days, back to a dispute that roiled the high school for a few weeks over the issue of teachers working out (by walking the track) during their conference period. The principal at the time, in what I think was more about power than principle, insisted that teachers needed to be in their rooms or the workroom during their conference hour. Granted, this was before cell phones, but it was also before classroom telephones. I can’t imagine it would have been any more difficult to get a teacher from the track than his/her classroom. That was one of the arguments we made, but this was a fight we were destined to lose; the price of winning would have been too high.

While I would never try to argue that the physical demands of teaching (only those who have never taught can believe that it’s a sedentary profession) are equivalent to those of first responders, I would maintain they are significant enough that physical activity, and its mental by-products, would have been more beneficial than sitting in a classroom, waiting for an unscheduled summons or phone call. I know that when I walk my mind is as busy as my body. And while I wasn’t much (okay, even that’s an exaggeration) into exercise then, I tried serve as an advocate for those who believed they would benefit. It is why forward-thinking companies today recognize the need for the mind-body connections that exercise brings.

Give and Take, Credit Edition

As we wait for the Republicans and PEOTUS DJ Trump to come up with their replacement for the Affordable Care Act, and while I listen to announcements on the closing of schools for weather (I still get a charge out of hearing my schools mentioned), I am reminded of the contract negotiations about the calendar and the issue of snow days at Hancock, back in the ‘70s.

Calendar negotiation was a minefield for both the union and administration, because one thing was guaranteed: no matter what you agreed to about the start of school, the end of school, the breaks, both length and placement, a significant number of people would be pissed off and loudly unhappy.

Snow day scheduling was also a challenge for a while. Hancock teachers, being on the bottom as far as competitive salaries were concerned compared to most other county districts, were not inclined to work more days than was required by law. The district, on the other hand, wanted a set calendar and thus insisted on a certain number of snow days to make sure we met state requirements. If we didn’t use them, well, BONUS! (Bonus for the district. anyway.) This was before snow days were as common and state aid was tied to attendance for districts like the Place.

Our proposal, for several years running, had called for scheduling the minimum number of required days (no snow days), with the proviso that whatever days necessary to meet state standards in the event of a run of bad weather would be tacked on to the end of the year. Every year that proposal was rejected and the fight went on. Compromise wasn’t a dirty word back then and we always managed to reach agreement.

Knowing that our usual proposal was destined for rejection, we offered a variation – scheduling several extra days (we didn’t care how many) but removing any extras at the end of the year. The administrative negotiating team responded that they couldn’t possibly do that, but would come return with a counter-proposal.

And they did. Their proposal: schedule no snow days, but add any needed extra days on to the end of the school year. After we rubbed our sore jaws, removed them from the table, stopped the bleeding from our tongues, and composed ourselves after stifling our incredulous laughter, we caucused and came back to accept their proposal. Once the proposal wasn’t ours, but theirs, it became acceptable. 

The ACA (aka Obamacare, née RomneyCare, spawn of the conservative Heritage Foundation) seems doomed, but Speaker Ryan and PEOTUS DJ Trump both claim to have (secret?) plans to replace it. Mr. Trump even says his plan will cover everyone. Given that I have both a daughter and now a granddaughter with auto-immune diseases that would, pre-ACA, have eliminated them from  insurance coverage due to their pre-existing conditions  (a known problem before the ACA {I’m choosing to use that acronym to minimize the frothing that seems to result in some corners every time President Obama’s name gets mentioned}), that piece is crucial to me and my family.

I admit that it will irk me if the vilified Obamacare morphs into superfantastic Trumpcare or Ryancare or GOPcare (modifications that could have begun 6 years ago had the goal been to actually do something for the citizens and not just deny credit to the president), but, like the snow day policy of so many years ago, I’ll just take the win and move on. 

Oh, and just like you paid for the treatment of those who did not have insurance when they showed up at an ER before the ACA, or got “free” care from a hospital, you’ll also pay for the new and improved health care plan that is coming soon to a neighborhood near you. It just won’t be called Obamacare. And if that somehow makes you feel better about it, well, okay. Health care is all about feeling better.

Also on the Hancock Place, Hancock Place Blog

Annual Labor Day Post

Who will advocate for workers? The bigger the business, the less connected to the workers management becomes. And let’s recognize that the goal of a business is not to take care of workers but the investors (whether public or private); if that goal comes at the expense of workers, well, there are more workers out there, right? 

On my way out the door at Hancock, I was informed by the (then) superintendent, “I’ve got people who can do what you do.” I believe that was shortsighted and, in fact, inaccurate on more than one level. But then he didn’t really know what I brought to the party (honestly, it was a lot more than chips and dip, if I do say so myself) and building management only pretended to stand up for me while actually throwing me under the proverbial bus. But that seems the attitude of modern management in all fields.

(Note, as disappointing and hurtful as this was, it turns out they did me a favor, if perhaps not those students and teachers I might have benefitted by staying. But I landed in a great place to end (most of) my career, my four fantastic final years at Schechter/Mirowitz.)

So, in honor of Labor Day, I’m going to share a few paragraphs from previous articles on the topic:

From 2011:

• Child labor laws

• 40-hour work week

• Overtime

• Workmen's Compensation

• Non-discriminatory hiring practices

• Workplace safety laws

• Unemployment compensation

• Paid vacations

• Retirement pensions

This is just a partial list of gains for workers granted voluntarily through the generosity of businesses concerned for their employees. Oh, wait, no, these things that we now define as givens for a good job came as the result of decades of struggle by organized groups of workers known as unions.

From 2013:

I’ve previously written about the debt that most Americans, with the possible exception of those few whose families have always enjoyed prosperity, owe to labor unions. The growth of the middle class in the United States clearly parallels the growth of labor unions. The shrinking number of middle class households of the last couple decades follows that same trend of declining union households. While I understand the dangers of equating causation with correlation, I find the trend disturbing. I also find the charges of class warfare disingenuous, at best. I find it ironic that those concerns were nowhere to be found as the middle class shrank and income disparity grew, as unions were assaulted and vilified while CEOs saw their pay and prestige grow explosively.

I think our founding fathers were on the right track when they incorporated a system of checks and balances into our governance, trying to establish a system whereby no one person, group or branch was able to accumulate too much power. I further believe that checks and balances must also apply to our economic system, and that unions are a key check to the unbridled power of corporations (people though they may be). Government also has a role, both as a defender of the checkers (both unions and businesses) and as an enforcer/check itself.

9-11: A Different Kind of Throwback Thursday

One of my formers, on this 13^th anniversary of 9-11, posted on Facebook, asking what we were doing that awful day. I was in my second year of my counseling gig at the high school. Obviously, not a topic covered in Counselor School. The news came in that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. To be honest, the thought of terrorism occurred only fleetingly to me (I tend to the naive when it comes to bad things), but I did wonder how such a terrible mistake could have happened. After calling Carolyn to tell her to turn on the TV, I gravitated to a television in Chris Ventimiglia's classroom, just in time to see the second plane hit the other tower, and then I knew that the inconceivable had happened, which was quickly confirmed by subsequent events.

For reasons I still don’t get, the district and/or middle school administration tried, more or less successfully I guess, to quarantine information from their building. Delaying information does not change the information itself and I, at least, was confident that the staff was more than competent to help kids make sense of it all. Postponing the bad news for 5 hours changed nothing and deprived students and staff of a chance to work together to share grief and knowledge.

But I had my own kids to worry about, so other than a shrug and shake, I moved on, from classroom to classroom. I don’t recall any kids being overtly traumatized, although my daughter was. (Then living in Ohio, she spent most the morning on the phone with Carolyn and didn’t fly for several years.) I do remember telling kids, “Your life has just changed forever, and in ways you can’t imagine. You may not see it right away, but your life now will be very different than it would have been yesterday.”

    As I watched President Bush address the nation, I remember thinking, “Maybe the right guy did get elected.” His speech made me calm, confident and comfortable; despite my misgivings about him politically, he seemed, well, presidential. Of course, I didn’t know he would move beyond a hunt for Osama Bin Laden in Afghanistan to a conquest of Iraq, a country which, as an enemy of Bin Laden, clearly had had nothing to do with the horror of 9-11. Despite my words of warning to our students, I could not envision how widespread the chaotic fall of dominoes would become. But on that day, all of that was as inconceivable as terrorists flying airliners into the WTC.

The Tyranny of Numbers

I love computers. I was an early adopter. In the same way that I remember a TV coming into the house (small, black and white screen in a huge cabinet), my daughter remembers a computer coming into ours (small, green screen, 5.25" floppy disks), costing more (in real dollars) than the 27" behemoth that now graces my desk. It was an invaluable tool for me as a teacher. Four years ago my computer went south (well, actually, it skipped town without even saying goodbye); I replaced it the next day, its function having expanded from the early days of keeping grades, and making tests and worksheets to an information and communication source and an unlimited to almost overwhelming supply of help and inspiration.

However, I’m not the only one using this tool in education. It’s also being used in offices and state houses, not just to analyze data but to make decisions and judgments. Are you a good teacher? Let’s look at numbers. Is your school doing the job? Let’s look at numbers. Should we interview a candidate for a job? There’s an algorithm that filters those decisions, too, one which factors in GPA, class rank and test scores, no matter how many years old those numbers may be. The problem is that, all too often, allowing computers to make decisions is not just taking the easy way out, but is also taking the human being out of the equation.

I started using a computer gradebook by about 1985. It was convenient to be able to show printouts when kids and/or parents wanted to complain. That tactic was also disingenuous, because I was the human being who entered the data and, I now confess, the data I entered sometimes helped create the outcome I felt was warranted (never in a negative direction, however). My point is, the human assessment, my professional judgment, never left the equation.

That is what is quickly disappearing, and not just in education. Nurses are, more and more, being channeled into data entry workers, away from their patients’ bedsides. A former student has just left the social work profession, another victim (if I’m reading between the lines correctly) of the tyranny of numbers. Police officers seem to be judged on the numbers they generate, from case closures to traffic tickets. Doctors’ hands are often tied by, and their compensation tied to, numbers from insurance companies. Personnel decisions are (too) frequently based on short-term bottom lines; the personal and social impacts of those decisions play no significant role in the process. I would suggest that the abysmal treatment of our veterans is more the result of bean counters and their numbers than systemic incompetence.

The importance of the human connection is rapidly being overshadowed and replaced by computer-generated numbers. While I understand the need for accountability and assessment, to make some number the primary, if not sole yardstick is absurd, especially in the above-mentioned professions or cases. For years my message to my students was, “Don’t ever allow your self-worth be determined by a number: not a test score, not a GPA, not a class rank. You are more than some number.” Sadly, perhaps I should have added, “However, don’t expect society to return the favor.”

Questionable Appreciation

As we wrap up another “Teacher Appreciation Week,” I’m conflicted about the future of teaching and the teaching profession….

Not too long ago I worked a softball clinic for girls in 3^rd to 7^th grades. We had some of our Webster players helping us, serving as demonstrators and wranglers. One of the girls showed exceptional aptitude for instruction and teaching. She took initiative (even though she was one of the youngest of our players there), adapted drills on the fly to keep girls involved at their skill level, made a personal connection with the young players, etc.

It will come as no surprise to anyone who has read much of my blog that I believe that the best teachers are born, not made. Maybe a better expression would be that great teachers are born, then made, through training, practice, and self-examination. This young woman is a natural.

But I’m not sure, even as someone who feels good about his teaching career and proud of  the many former students who followed in it, that I’d urge anyone to choose that path any more. I’m discouraged at the direction I think education is taking, reducing the opportunities for artistry, increasing regimentation and standardization, creating technocrats and interchangeable parts. And don’t even get me started on the games being played with online degrees and programs to earn salary bumps, or the ever-increasing pervasiveness of online education.

It’s not that teaching has become harder. Maybe it has, but it was always a lot of work, especially for those who care about the students entrusted to them. It’s not that there is less respect for teachers. Perhaps there is, but we certainly had to deal with those who both looked down upon us and expected us to perform miracles. It’s not that teachers are underpaid. You can’t overpay a good teacher, nor underpay a bad one, although the former is seldom an issue. Even the fiercest critics of (public school) teachers are complimentary of many individuals. They mostly just object to teachers’ organizations (unions, a word I’ve been comfortably using for 40+ years) that help those professionals stand up for themselves and their students.

That resentment is not new, either. I remember the stunned look of a school board member back in 1973 (maybe 1974) when she accusingly declaimed, “You just want more power for teachers” when I answered, “Yes, we do.” After a brief silence, she stammered, “You know, you’ve told the truth two or three times tonight.” How dare teachers want to be in charge of their own profession. Who do they think they are?

I would certainly be proud of any young woman or man who wanted to join the profession, certainly prouder than my parents were of my choice. And maybe my confliction is the result of seeing the past as better than it really was, another of the joys of aging. Maybe my parents didn’t see a teaching career as any kind of accomplishment because it was, even then, a second-tier profession. I spent a lot of time and energy working to push it into the first tier, and I always felt the equal in terms of skill and importance to any doctor or lawyer, even if society seldom reciprocated that feeling. (I thought the same of all the underrated and underappreciated Registered Nurses who share this week of appreciation, incidentally and, perhaps, ironically. Apparently neither profession is worthy of a week in the spotlight alone.)

For all that, however, I don’t know that I would ever encourage someone to become a teacher, as crucial as I think the profession and its practitioners are. I hate feeling this way. I certainly didn’t always feel this way. Still, I wouldn’t judge any parents who discouraged their children from making that choice. To be fair, when I mentioned this misgiving in the complimentary e-mail I sent the parents of the above-referenced daughter, they concurred with my assessment of her abilities and were excited about the possibility of her being a teacher. So I am willing to concede that this week just has me taking a darker view than perhaps I should and my developing codger hood simply represents the passage of time.

So let me end on a more positive note and thank my colleagues, past, present, and future, and tell those many former-students who are now in, or planning to join, the profession: “Thank you. I’m proud of you and appreciate what you’re doing, what you’re giving to society. Keep the faith and keep up the good (hard) work.”