I often find myself in the situation now where I am broken-hearted while reading the comment section on education blogs. I can’t believe these thoughts are coming from educated people. I hold teachers to a higher standard. I believe we should be compassionate, caring, kind, a champion for human rights and positive change, and DEFINITELY not racist. It’s not that I cannot handle people having different views. That’s what makes this country, different views being able to be expressed. Feel differently about health care? Fine. Have a different view on education? Alright. Where I can’t handle a healthy debate or respect your opinion is when it comes to not treating others with respect, compassion, and as human beings.
When someone says they would rather let people from Norway in as immigrants rather than from “less than” (a nicer phrase) countries, what they’re saying is they want privileged white people. That they’re better. That the fact they didn’t have a tough lot in life makes them inherently good people and those from other circumstances and skin colors are inherently bad people.
A teacher agreeing with this and defending it rips my heart out. Do you feel that way about your students? Do you not want or love little Billy because of the color of his skin or the circumstance he comes from? “Alcoholic parents? Let’s not afford him the same education. He can’t succeed. He doesn’t deserve a chance.” That is insane.
A teacher saying “I like that he says what he means.” Do you? You like how he speaks about people? Entire professions? Entire races? Blanket statements that hurt and offend others? Racist comments? Demeaning statements about anyone who opposes him? That’s a bully. A racist, reckless bully. How could you, as a teacher, respect a bully? We are supposed to protect, nurture, and inspire. We teach students to choose their words wisely, speak with kindness and decorum, and to be respectful. Yet, you’re proud of someone who does none of those things?
It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t something I can agree to disagree on and move along. I am sure this blog will burn some bridges but when the bridges lead to hate, it’s not somewhere I want to go anyways.
welcome to my mess
I've always dreamed of being one of those moms who makes Bento Box lunches with artisan sandwiches cut out into cute shapes along with carrot sticks and grapefruit that my perfect children will gobble up, but I am fairly certain my child is going to end up with a package of deli meat and a Snickers bar. I can barely get myself ready in the morning and I once screwed up a grilled cheese maker. Who knew the top part of the grilled cheese maker also heated up? Spoiler alert: everyone. I'm not sure who decided I was capable of raising a human, but they handed her off to me anyways and I love her more than I can begin to explain. However, love isn't magic--despite what Disney claims. I cannot suddenly wake up without 46 snoozes or manage my time well enough to have the opportunity to use conditioner in my hair. I'm still me. I just have a cute mini-me now. I have a master's degree in education and a participation award for adulting. Please follow me on my journey and give me a wave if you ever end up on the struggle bus with me. I also frequent the hot mess express, and I check my email on occasion. Wherever you run into me, just know I woke up like this. No, seriously...I didn't have time to do anything else.