Thursday, November 29, 2012

Decisions, Decisions



Nov 2, '11 12:37 PM
for everyone
Given the time lag since I first posted, it was probably obvious that  I've decided to pass on the "opportunity" (to be appointed temporarily and then run for a seat on the Junior College District Board of Trustees) for a variety of reasons.

As I've previously noted, my focus has narrowed over the years. I started my career trying to save the world (in general, and education, in particular -- it was a Child of the '60s thing), refocused to the district of Hancock Place, refocused again to Hancock High School, refocused again to the students with whom I dealt daily (or at least regularly), refocused again, well, you get the picture. To broaden that focus to being at least partly responsible for over 5000 employees and probably at least four times that many students would represent a 540° turn (and I get dizzy so easily any more!).

Second, not only has my focused shifted, but my priorities have changed. I don't spend much time looking backward or regretting "the stumbles and falls [that] brought me here" (Ben Folds, I Am the Luckiest), but I recognize that my priorities were misplaced when I was more ambitious. That may be too strong, but I've come to realize that it wasn't really a good thing when my daughter's first complete sentence was, "Daddy's at a meeting." I appreciate time more and want to spend as much of it as I can with those I love. Meetings don't really fit in with that objective.

Third, because I figure I have at least another year left in me at Schechter (officially renamed, as of 1/1/12, the Saul Mirowitz Jewish Community School -- I'm guessing it will be shorted to JCS) and because I expect we won't be in "coast mode" trying to create an effective school culture that will require significant energy in assimilation and integration, to say nothing of the mundane demands for academic excellence, I don't anticipate much in the way of free time to devote to the JCD. (I am convinced that we will soon need to add letters to the alphabet to accommodate the ever-increasing demands for acronyms.)

Finally, I was pretty much operating on fumes by the time softball ended. My body will tell me when I can't do that any more (the evidence will be some kind of smashed face or broken bone because I can't avoid a thrown or batted ball -- I've already conceded to using a screen to throw BP -- too many close calls even off the JV bats) and every time I think I might be ready to stop teaching, the stock market convinces me how terrible an idea that is! Of course, that may never change, or at least not for a long while. But that's a topic for another day.

In short (also not a strength and certainly not on the campaign trail), no need to start looking for yard signs emblazoned with my name any time soon. Still, it was nice to be considered.

Quandry


Oct 29, '11 3:11 PM
for everyone
Feel free to comment on this, but I'm mostly writing to help me sort out my own thoughts.

I'm being recruited to run for the Junior College Board of Trustees seat in April. It's certainly flattering, but whatever political aspirations I ever fantasized about went away many years ago. (Okay, I still sort of fantasize debating [and shredding, of course] wing nuts on the right, but I do recognize it's just fantasy). I certainly don't figure this to be the beginning of a career in politics; I'm not that delusional, nor would I really want to undergo the personal scrutiny and truth-twisting that automatically comes with the territory of partisan politics these days. Neither do I expect a phone call from Senator Danforth and the nascent third-party movement any time soon.

I do, however, believe in the value of the Junior College District, that it represents perhaps our best hope to train or retrain Americans to compete in the increasingly fluid local and world labor markets, to offer the opportunity for regular people to retain or attain middle class status in a country where that membership is shrinking, almost daily, it seems. I also have enough ego to think that I might bring something to the party besides chips and dip, that I could articulately and pragmatically advocate for all the constituencies involved in the JCD, assuming that I could actually win an election.

But should I commit to an election that I don't really care if I win or not? I certainly have no real intention (nor do I want to make the time) of campaigning, going door-to-door, telephoning, fund-raising (ughh!), etc. If someone wants to put my name out there and make some yard signs, fine; it might give me the opportunity to serve.

On the other hand, I've just come off my busy time when all my energy has been pretty well sapped with teaching and coaching. I'm only now starting to catch my breath. The thought of adding more evenings of meetings doesn't exactly fill me with excitement.

My father is needing more of my time, more than I've really had to give him since August until just about now. His needs are not going to decrease, which means the responsibilities of my brothers and me are going to increase.

My school will also be different next year (merged and, presumably, bigger)  and while I'm reasonably confident I'll still have a job, I don't know what it will look like or whether I'll want what is offered. I'll have yet another "principal" (Head of School) and new challenges that will keep me out of coast-mode (not that that's a bad thing, but will require continued and possibly expanded time commitments).

If I were sure I would be well and truly retired next year, the JCD position would be more attractive (having no responsibilities may sound good, but would not be good for me), but I don't think there will be any certainty about that in the near future, and I'd hate to commit to something I could only give a half-uh-baked effort to.

On the other hand (just how many hands does that make now?), this is kind of a cool opportunity that I'd also hate to pass it up. There's no guarantee, of course, that I'd win (especially with my ambivalence),  although because I'd run in and represent the South County/City area, I expect I'd have some, albeit limited, positive name recognition among friends and formers. I don't know how hotly contested these seats are.

So I sit and ponder, procrastinating about making the phone call to even discuss the possibility of becoming a candidate. As I often told students, no decision is also a decision. Throwing yourself into the unknown fits into the "Grow or die" mode to which I've always at least given lip-service. So many aphorisms, so few that fit perfectly.

Stay tuned.

Thoughts on Labor Day


Sep 5, '11 6:15 PM
for everyone
• 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.

Are unions perfect? Of course not. But we owe them a debt that we need to try to pay forward if we are to preserve the standard of living we want for our children. 

The rise of the middle class in America parallels the rise of union jobs and union membership. The shrinking of the middle class in America is directly correlated to the decline in unions and the number of union jobs.  The parallel is clear and ongoing. Ignore it at your peril.

So thanks to those brave men and women who fought for upward mobility for those who came before and who continue to fight bravely to preserve the American way of life.

The Schechter Saga, Book 3, Chapter 1: Looking Back & Ahead


In less than two weeks I start my fifth decade in teaching. Little did I know when my churning stomach and I said, "Good morning" to my first class of freshmen for English in Room 200 (the room disappeared long before the building that housed it) where I would end up, starting my 41st year. I could never have predicted the joys and rewards of what was, I must admit, an accidental career.

(With apologies to those who know the story) I was, at best, an indifferent college student who changed majors four times (none were education; in fact, late in my junior year at UM-St. Louis {I was a French major at the time}, all of the other class members had espoused teaching as their career goal. My response, "I don't know, but it won't be teaching.")

I even considered joining my (future) wife in the nursing field, but couldn't bear the thought of more school and science classes (groan). So this (now) history major, faced with the limited career options of selling encyclopedias or insurance, started taking classes for teaching certification. I benefitted from several fortuitous circumstances. First, standards were low at the time (my GPA wouldn't qualify today). Second, I had a great student-teaching experience at McCluer High School (on the evening shift, teaching 10th grade world history from about noon to 6:30); my cooperating teacher took more interest cruising with the Moline Acres Police than his classroom and left me alone to learn how to teach. The final piece of luck was that his students didn't want to do anything that might cause him to spend any more time in the classroom than he had to, so I avoided some typical student-teaching traps.

Equally lucky for me, Hancock Place standards weren't all that high either (and probably candidates with French and English certification not that common) so I even managed to find a job and start a career that has rewarded me beyond measure, helped me grow as a person, and allowed me to give back to my profession and students.

One thing I've learned: the expression "normal year" is an oxymoron. In the ed-game there are no normal years; heck, there aren't even that many normal days! But I go to school/work every day looking forward to the journey that I take with my students, sharing and learning together. I've taught every age of middle and high school, English, French, American and world history, political science, psychology, law, business law! (at a time when I knew nothing about either business OR law), journalism, drama, freshman (college) composition, masters classes for Webster College, and, of course, did school counseling; I've coached softball, school publications, mock trial teams, directed drama productions. I was also a teaching profession "true believer," dedicated to empowering teachers so we could do our jobs better and earn respect as professionals.

Although not all of these efforts yielded equal results, I tried to approach all of them with equal enthusiasm, tried to do or make things better. As I begin my third year at Schechter looking forward to working with my "sixers" (and, once more into the breach, advising yet another yearbook -- #14, but who's counting?), I'm just as excited, but not quite as nervous (or maybe my stomach is so well insulated now that I don't notice the flip-flops quite as much) as that day in 1971.

Stay tuned. Let the meetings begin!

A Tribute


Jun 30, '11 2:49 PM
for everyone
Why wasn't this a classic American underclass train wreck?

Her "mother" left town and returned a couple days later on the train with the baby, which she raised through a succession of at least seven (7) step-fathers (and, by reputation, other temporary visitors), pregnant at 16, thus not allowed to finish her senior year, married a man12 years her senior a couple years later and bore four more children, living in a Chicago tenement and on a hardscrabble farm outside Centralia, Illinois. The family did, in fact, have a pot (or two, one upstairs, one downstairs) to pee in for those cold nights when a trip to the outhouse was impractical; but neither well went dry, the garden grew, and government cheese helped. You get the picture.

Or at least you might think so. But, with her husband, John (who had his own story, including being told at 14 by his father that he "wasn't needed around here anymore" and sent packing to his sister's), she raised five successful children, productive citizens all. The last 2-3 years weren't kind to her, but she always said she'd had a good life. 

I was privileged to marry one of her daughters and was touched by the honor and respect paid to her by those children and grandchildren at her funeral. She'd have been (or was, I'm sure, depending on your concept of the afterlife) pleased by the musical tribute (no words could have been as appropriate) offered by two of her grandchildren, Kevin and Tricia.

So, again, why wasn't this a classic American underclass train wreck? I don't have the answer. But I will suggest that the winners of all the "Survivor" television shows wouldn't have been able to compete with her in this real world challenge.

So, here's to you Geraldine Shahan (1918-2011), an American success story of overcoming the odds. You have my respect, admiration, love and thanks. 

Berndt's Rules o' Life, 1.0



May 27, '11 11:11 AM
for everyone
It's graduation season, time to share advice to graduates, current and former. Not that anyone asked me! All "rules" subject to change and editorial review. Not all concepts are original, but most of the phrasing is.

1. You don't get a discount on the Happy Meal just because you're not....
2. Try to go where you're invited, stay away from where you're not.
3. It's better to ask forgiveness than permission.
4. Being "right" is over-rated.
5. Admitting that you were/are wrong is both cathartic and liberating.
6. Don't worry about what other people are thinking of you, because, in fact, they're not.
7. If one sincere apology (okay, maybe two) isn't enough, then forgiveness isn't really on the agenda.
8. Be a good audience.
9. You never know the limits of your reach until you fall on your face.
10. If you don't like yourself, really, what's the point for anyone else?
11. Your ability to love increases in direct proportion to usage.
12. Find satisfaction in achieving the best result possible instead of frustration over failing to achieve the best possible result.
13. Most people are capable of redemption, but only if you allow it.
14. There is no "undo-key" for life, but there are a multitude of examples of people who have overcome more obstacles than you.
15. If you can never be satisfied, don't be surprised when people stop trying.
16. It's easier to fix the flaws of others than to recognize, much less deal with, your own.
17. Life is a marathon, not a sprint.
18. Wherever you go, there you are.*

19. If you want to make a fresh start, it will require more than a change in location.
20. If you're both the host and guest of honor at a Pity Party, don't expect a large turnout.
21. The loudest voice has no greater claim to the truth than the softest.
22. Although your body will offer numerous hints, it's when your mind stops growing that marks the beginning of the end.
23. We ALL have baggage, but you don't have to carry it around with you 24/7. (Suggestion, put yours in a storage locker and just bring it out for holidays and special occasions.)
24. Pay yourself first.
25. Always leave room for one more....


Thus, feel free to add on.

*Apparently courtesy of Confucius. Who knew? I thought I was stealing it from "The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension"!

The Schechter Saga, Book 2, Chapter 7



May 23, '11 11:50 AM
for everyone
Friday night we attended a performance of "Jersey Boys" at the Fox. We had seen it before but enjoyed it enough to do it again when it was part of the package this season. If anything, this time it was better. Why? Because the show not only played to a packed house, but an involved, enthusiastic packed house that had the theater rocking and rolling.

What, you may ask, does this have to do with Schechter? It got me thinking about the frustrating year I've spent with my 8th graders. Were they smart? Absolutely. Were they well behaved? No complaints there. Was their work and work ethic acceptable? Yes, that and more. Were they involved with their learning? Not so much.

Last year I compared teaching the 8th grade with "herding cats." I've decided cats was the wrong analogy, because that crew was, for the most part, neither aloof nor apathetic. But I prefer them to this year's group, smug, self-satisfied in their level of knowledge (or ignorance, depending upon your point of view) and generally apathetic about the acquisition of knowledge. Two examples: They were offered the chance to Skype with the "Space Rabbi," the man who helps Jewish astronauts with some of the special challenges they face maintaining their religion in space. No assignment, just watch and listen on the Smart Board™, but they passed. Monday I asked if they wanted to see any video or audio on the horrific tornado that struck Joplin. No,thanks, we'll just sit. As someone who views teaching as performance art, this audience wore me out and makes glad that the run ends next week.

It's tough to perform when you have an audience that just sits there. When it's so small (just 5 girls if they're all here) and often dominated by an intimidating classmate who's impossible to please.... I'll have to talk to a friend who performs in small shows in front of small houses to see if she has shared that frustration.

I need to feed off my audience and these girls were little more than sponges sitting on a desert floor, absorbing but showing neither growth nor change. Fortunately, my 6th graders brought and reflected that necessary energy this year, even if the "herding squirrels" analogy might be apt. Bottom line, though, is that they give back at least as much energy as they absorb, and I'll take that any day.

It's unfair to assume that the upcoming eighth grade would mirror this year's; they're larger and definitely different in personality. But I'm glad to be focusing on 6th grade again next year. Whether I have enough energy to cope all year with them remains to be seen, but at least I can count on them to not just suck my batteries dry and give nothing back in return.

I've also realized that I'm not always a good audience myself, sitting there, expecting to be entertained or educated, but not particularly involved in the process. I wonder how much more I would have enjoyed plays, concerts, lectures, classes, even in-services, had I fed the those performing the energy that I know I need when I'm up front.