In Defense of Drumpf *

Here on the morning of Super Tuesday, like presidential politicians and politics and the advertising that supports it all, this headline might be labelled as misleading and disingenuous. How appropriate. In any case, of course, Donald Trump neither needs nor wants my defense.

Let me be clear. I cannot imagine any circumstances under which I could vote for Donald Trump. Or any of the Republican candidates. I’m pretty much reconciled to this being the first election where I cannot find a way to rationalize at least some candidate to support. Whoever wins in 2016 will start his/her term with the support of less than half the voters, and being despised by a significant percentage. I am not optimistic and see no better days in the future. I for sure won’t be voting in any Missouri presidential primary.

Donald Trump is the Impressionist candidate – a significant number of people like the picture he paints even if the details (and process) are fuzzy. It must be admitted, however, that impressionists can create vivid images that allow us to see what we want. The man is intelligent, no doubt, but his solutions to problems resemble (often) ugly wallpaper over plaster cracks – neither permanent nor particularly effective. My opinion: we have more serious structural issues, both internal and external, that need to be addressed by more than changing up a façade.

Trump also seems to think that being the biggest, baddest, strongest kid on the block means others will do what you want. He’s not alone in this, as other candidates act like all we as a nation have to do is give orders to the other kids (nations), ignoring that they have their own senses of pride, independence, and, yes, exceptionalism.

I personally do not understand why anyone would want the awful job of president. And, as awful as it has been for some time, it is only getting worse. Who wants to be hated by so many people – and that is just in your own country! Yet many do seem to want the job, to the point of saying and/or doing anything to get it. No tactic is too sleazy, no promise too absurd, no principle too sacred to be modified for the right audience or the right number of votes. Because the men and women from whom we have to choose seemingly will do anything to be president, we must also assume they will do anything as president. (Actually, Jeb! Bush might have been able to draw the line; unfortunately, that was not viewed as a favorable trait and made him one of the worst campaigners ever. While I probably wouldn’t have voted for him nor would I have liked many of his positions and policies, I admit he might have turned out to be a competent president; unfortunately, he ran a staggeringly incompetent campaign.)

 Many, and I include myself here, have longed, loudly at times, for a candidate who would run an honest campaign, putting him or herself out there, to be judged for who (s)he is, not trying to be “politically correct.” Mind you, I do not object to sensitive phrasing and trying to avoid (deliberately) insulting people who think or look differently than you. Empathy is not political correctness, it is being willing to look at things from another’s point of view.

Donald Trump may be the only candidate insisting that the road to the presidency be on his terms (not ideological terms, but personal terms); compared to the other candidates (except maybe Bernie Sanders) he seems to be the only one who won’t do and/or say anything to be president. The rest seem more than willing to let themselves be massaged and manipulated by consultants who tailor their “message du jour” for whatever constituency's vote is being pursued on that campaign stop. Not Trump. He just barrels ahead, steamrolling anyone who gets in his way or disagrees with him. His attitude seems to be just what we thought we wanted: “If I can’t do it my way, I don’t want to do it at all.”

Proving, once again, be careful what you wish for.

* If you do not understand this, Google "John Oliver" + "Drumpf"

Taking a Flyer OR No Fear of Flying

I just finished a 6-week sub gig at Lindbergh High School, filling in for a teacher on maternity leave. That it has taken me a week to put this blog-entry to bed is just one indication of how tired I was at the end of the job. Thanks to Ronni Zagora for trusting me with her kids. It was a pleasure and an honor.

I am embarrassed at just how quickly I had forgotten just how much work teaching is. This was not that tough a gig (3 AP USHistory & 1 General Psychology), with an already prepared calendar and assessments (for the history) and an enviable schedule. (Hint: subbing for the department chair is probably a good strategy if you can manage it.) I used to be critical of teachers-turned-administrators who began making demands on their staff. “Don’t they remember how tough this job is?” I would snarl to myself, or anyone else within earshot. Sorry about that, and for not always recognizing that their job is also hard.

I hope you’re not expecting some critical expose of public schools in general or Lindbergh in particular. I have not one bad, or even critical, thing to say about my experience there. One thing about subbing (or guest speaking): If the students respect the teacher in whose classroom you're working, you'll almost certainly have a good day (or in my case, 6 weeks). 

The kids were fantastic; I didn’t have even a sniff of anything that could be called a discipline problem. The students were respectful and at least responsive, if not always super motivated. They were, after all, high school juniors and seniors (and seniors, especially this time of year, are pretty much done). It took a couple days for me to get my “sea-legs” back (perhaps not the most apt metaphor for a school with an airborne mascot), but I was teaching in my wheelhouse and quickly found my rhythm.

Nor did the kids didn’t seem to mind the passive learning to which they were subjected. I did thank them for their patience on the last day of the “Berndt Talking Tour.” I mean, anyone who knows me knows that if I can do one thing, it’s talk. Press the “On” button and away I go. I remember showing an early baby picture of Nicci, and having one student say, “She looks just like you, her mouth is open.” I’d have been more insulted had it not been so true.

The social studies faculty (with whom I had the most contact) were incredibly warm and welcoming. Even though I’m (still) an introvert, I quickly felt a comfortable kinship. And once I was able to find my way to the office without a Sherpa or leaving breadcrumbs, I also had pleasant, helpful encounters with the support staff. Everyone struck me as competent, although if I really met an administrator, I don’t remember him/her. I’m excited for my former student, and my current friend, Dr. Eric Cochran, as he takes over the (challenging) principal job next year. I’m confident he’ll be great.

One thing I learned, or at least reinforced, is that I absolutely made the right call a couple years ago when I submitted my final letter of retirement and decided my time had come. I had only a few misgivings at the time, and none now. I’m glad I did not dishonor the profession of which I am so proud to have been a part by coasting to the end of my career for another year or two. I’m proud of that career and what I accomplished in it. However, I’m also proud that I recognized when it was time to go, not because I was lazy or had lost my dedication or skills, but because I knew that I no longer had the energy to do the job the way I believe it needs to be done, and, more importantly, the way kids deserve to have it done.

When talking about my decision to really retire, I previously used the party-host analogy. I’m updating that analogy to fast-food. As a sub, even a long-term sub, I was the teaching equivalent of fast food. The kids didn’t starve, but what our patrons (students) need are nutritious, home-cooked meals. I’ll do in a pinch, but even with a selection of “healthy choices” on the menu, it’s not in anyone’s best interests to subsist on fast food.

I may have more to say down the road, as I make generalizations about teaching and education from this added perspective, but I had a great time at an excellent school and I’m grateful to Keith Cochran for thinking (and taking care) of me and recruiting me to spend time with him and the Flyers. Based on my experience, I have no doubt that these young men and women will truly soar.