Gluten-Free and Bulletproof

          Trends are necessary in society, and I am not above yielding to trends’ enticing drifts. For example, after my lavender scented baths, I eat fingerfuls of coconut oil while thoroughly lathering it all over my skin. Also, when my son was nine-months-old, I bought him Robeez shoes so his feet would develop properly (knowing in my head that my feet developed just fine after wearing Mary Janes for the first five years of my life). Having a husband who works at Trader Joe’s, I often think about society’s prevailing trends, and as a mom, I am constantly comparing my parenting decisions to my peers’ parenting tendencies. Trends play an important role in shaping our identities and connecting us to others. Some trends, such as eating organic meat and breastfeeding infants, are healthy; some trends are pointless, although harmless; and some trends are harmful. The ones that crack me up, such as abstaining from gluten without having Celiac Disease and bulletproofing coffee, are useful if they provide peace of mind (and perhaps a decadent cup of extremely fattening coffee).

          

         

Deification's Positive and Negative Effects

                In college, a good friend and philosophy major spoke with me about deification. At the time, he was an Atheist and I was a Christian, so we had our disagreements on the subject. I am no philosopher and cannot clearly remember the conversation we had fifteen years ago, but deification is creating a deity to explain events that happen in a person’s life, or to create meaning in a person’s life, or to bridge the cause and effect in a person’s life. I realize I am being repetitive, but this is how I understood the philosophy as a young person. In a nutshell, through religion, society, and various philosophies, humans create gods to mirror themselves and to use as crutches when life gets tough. Now, I am no longer a Christian, but I am also no Atheist. Just to update you on my current beliefs, I believe if reality as we know it exists, then life beyond our realities, as well as the supernatural, perhaps exists. However, my purpose in writing this blog is not necessarily to philosophize. I am quite stubborn and set in my beliefs. No, this entry is to note that the more experiences I have had with folks, the more I encounter deification. I have observed that people, Christians in particular in my Southern U.S. experience, twist doctrine and create demi-gods to suit their own needs, to cater to their societies, and to make sense of their lives. So, my argument is not about if a specific religion is real or not, but it is to defend my Atheist friend’s initial philosophy; how can one deny that humans love patterns and take bits and pieces of doctrine and bits and pieces of themselves to create their realities? I also do this- just not in a neatly wrapped religion.

                The best people I know may or may not adhere to some form of deification, but they do not corrupt the idea for a tainted purpose. Some of them have been through hell but do not have to explain away their suffering as a god’s will. Nor do they have to trust a god to make sense of the remaining debris after the loss of a loved one, etc. They grieve (go through denial, anger, sadness, etc.) like everyone else, but as human nature allows, they eventually accept life’s hardships and find peace from within. I cherish these friends because they are not dogmatists or doormats. They do not push their beliefs on me, have ulterior motives, or blindly follow their religious societies. They are not self righteous. Some of these friends adhere to Christianity and/or other religions, and some of them do not. For some, deification is a very necessary and positive life force. These people’s common thread is that they do not need to use a god as a crutch or to construct a deity to make their deeds and life events have meaning or some form of divine justice. They simply accept nature’s design.

                I do not claim to mimic these peaceful souls. I carry too much anger to float peacefully. I am not angry toward a god, though. I accept that I am angry (although I am always trying to release tension and improve). I am angry toward religion for personal reasons: a church’s pastor had a three year affair (when I was at a very impressionable age); a youth pastor beat his wife; a “good” Christian boy was violent and cruel toward me in college; a “good” Muslim boy violated me in my twenties; my list goes on. Oh, not to mention Christianity’s beautiful track record: The Crusades, Slavery, etc. I love my Christian friends; none of them are dogmatists or we would not be friends. They may turn to God for comfort, but they would never hate a homosexual or say (or even think) he/she was living in sin or going to Hell. They are too intelligent and accepting to twist a scripture to support their political or societal agendas. Furthermore, they accept nature. They would never, for example, see a breastfeeding woman and think she was being immodest. They accept nature, and breastfeeding is completely natural. If gods exist, these gods or god, exist in the most natural of settings, The Color Purple if you will. They embrace love and grace- not hate. I guess these thoughts embody my own deification of a god. Christians, “God is love,” after all, correct?

                Most importantly to me, I do not want my son growing up around self-righteous, dogmatic pricks. I do not attend church because I do not believe in Christian doctrine but also because churches make me feel uncomfortable. I recently visited one church that was different and  better than all others I have attended because I shared more in common with the church members than other churches (even if I could not continue attending simply because I do not share the same beliefs); I attended for social reasons and was fulfilled socially. Then, I visited a church for Christmas Eve with my parents (tradition’s sake – my idea) and felt more stifled than I can remember ever feeling. I reverted back to feeling like an adolescent outcast. Even if I did not care how people perceived my husband, son, and myself (and I truly did not care), the atmosphere was hostile. Then, I attended a funeral, or memorial service (to be more accurate), for a close family friend’s tragic loss (plane crash) and had a completely different experience. Although the church was similar to my parents’ church, the pastor, other speakers, and ceremony in general, embraced love and loss, as well as genuine grief. Instead of spouting clichés, such as “your husband is in a better place,” the pastor accepted death as a tragedy and encouraged the wife and family to run toward the darkness when the sun rose; in nature, where else would a family run in the midst of such loss? I appreciated such honesty in nature’s design. Deification cradled a pained family in this situation, instead of judging or sugarcoating reality.

                 I do not go to church because I have fundamental differences in my beliefs than most Christians. I accept this and am no longer searching for capital “T” truth (or maybe I am always searching but I understand and accept that I will never find it). Deification is natural so I do not judge my Christian or Muslim friends for yielding to such a concept.  I just encourage some people, not my friends, to stop sculpting historical gods, artifacts, and other resources, into vessels that promote their own misguided agendas. Please accept that you are no better than anyone else. Some, like myself, deem you far worse than most humans for your self-righteous, holier than thou ways. 

Politics of Education

At “Mommy and Me” yoga, a mother and I were the first to arrive and therefore had to make small talk about our babies. She mentioned how she and her six month old son had been in a meeting about education all morning and her son had been so good during the meeting. While the conversation itself was about her son’s mild temperament, her introductory sentence into her story has stuck in my mind all week. She said, “We were at a meeting about education but you wouldn’t be interested in the politics.” As she stated this wild assumption, she snobbishly waved her hand as if she was quite important and knew so much about the subject. Since she does not know me, I excused her ignorant remark, and simply said, “I might be interested in the subject since I taught high school English for six years.” In the meantime, my rambunctious seven month old son was climbing all over me and trying to eat me. After my snide response (sometimes I just cannot help myself), we did briefly discuss her meeting. Still, I cannot stop thinking about the weight of her remark: “We were at a meeting about education but you wouldn’t be interested in the politics.” I, a lawyer’s daughter who experienced the grime of public education for six years, wouldn’t be interested in the politics of education. Now, I have a son and decisions to make about where he will spend the bulk of his academic life, but I wouldn’t be interested in the politics of education. On the contrary, education has always been one of my major subjects of concern, and I have plenty to say about the politics of education.        

First of all, I realize anyone can hear politics about education by listening to NPR, reading online sources, books, and other sources. My experiences as a teacher will enlighten the interested about teachers’ and students’ struggles but will not regurgitate information heard through media. Also, my opinions stem not only from being a teacher but also from becoming a parent. When discussing education with another mom today, she mentioned wanting to home school her daughter. I replied, “I taught high school English for a while and am also considering home schooling my son because he’s mine.” Teachers can claim again and again that their students are their own, and those teachers often are the best teachers. However, when an actual parent, especially one who taught school, contemplates his or her own child’s education, previous conceptions about academic settings for their children usually fly out the window. It is a shame our nation’s current education system forces us to make these decisions.

I acquired a Master’s Degree in Education, and in the process, was required to take many classes chock full of theories but lacking in practical substance. Also, for the most part, the classes were simply boring and not in the least bit challenging and I enjoyed my English professors and classes much more than education. However, I had a few great teachers in Education who inspired and encouraged me. One in particular, a curriculum teacher who taught about actually teaching English to middle and high school students, was an enthusiastic mentor. The students were also student teachers during her class, and while teaching, had to create a portfolio that included lesson plans for a unit; these plans had to appeal to all types of learners and had to include multiple types of assessments. I thoroughly enjoyed her class and also had a wonderful, dedicated ninth-grade teacher to coach me as I student taught. I taught units on To Kill a Mockingbird and Romeo and Juliet, and I had autonomy in how I taught these works, so the students participated in creative projects, like skits, as well as more traditional formative and summative assessments. I was able to incorporate fun into the learning process; I enjoyed teaching, and the students seemed to enjoy learning. Looking back, my experience as a student teacher defined what public schools should look like and how teachers and students should interact daily. But, I student taught in a top notch school system with exceptional teachers, self-motivated students, and overly involved parents. I was spoiled from my experience and accepted my first teaching job with the naïve attitude that I could truly change my students and my school’s environment. Maybe, I was arrogant, having always been told that I could do and be anything I wanted, but I was humbled daily in my first year.

I worked in three public school systems in Alabama and Tennessee. For the purpose of privacy and respect, I will not reveal the names of systems, schools, principals, teachers, parents, or students. Out of the three schools, only one, ironically the school with students from rougher situations and families with lower incomes, has a decent atmosphere where administrators and teachers care about students and students care about learning. The school is not perfect but, like the school in which I student taught, it does give me hope in public education. Still, would I send my own child to this school? No. I do not believe students are learning to creatively process the world and think critically for themselves in our society, a society politicians have clumsily and heartlessly created, so I distrust education. Public and private schools are suffering. Everyone loses.  For the sake of this blog, I will share my most memorable and disturbing experiences. Unfortunately, these experiences are true.

At my first school in Alabama, I learned so much about myself and others. I had good mentors and friends at this school and therefore progressed as a teacher. Still, my challenges and struggles seemed insurmountable, and I was ill prepared for actual teaching. I loved my ninth graders, but I know they did not make the strides they needed to make by having me as their teacher. I had so many discipline problems that learning became second fiddle most of my first year. The students smelled my lack of confidence and controlled my classroom’s atmosphere. My last class of my first day cursed the entire year. Thirty-eight rowdy ninth graders showed up at my door, but I only had thirty desks so students were sitting on the floor. I was already nervous when a tall, big boned girl popped in late. The students started whooping and hollering when she came in the classroom. I learned later that she and her mother spun disks at a local club, so the students respected her as a disk jockey. Furthermore, they knew she was hell to most teachers and would push my buttons from the get go. I wanted to prove them wrong, although I knew they were right. She intimidated me and tried to anger me daily because she loved getting a rise out of her clueless teacher. I really wanted to “reach” and teach her but was completely ineffective for her and the whole class. We were on a block schedule so I had the class for ninety-six minutes a day. Fortunately, I had a different set of students the second semester and a fresh start. I had a much harder edge at this point and was a more effective teacher. Still, I do not know how much learning actually occurred in my classroom. Discipline was still a challenge, although much better than the first semester. I had one unexpected event, though. In a decent honors class, my best writer had a surge of anger one day and let loose on another student. The students had never even looked at each other funny in my classroom, but one of the students had spread a rumor about the other one.  Plus, unbeknownst to me, one had a violent background in New York. One student had a broken nose, and the paramedics showed up. In my two years teaching at this school, I had good and bad times, but overall, I would not want my son to have me as his teacher when I was fresh out of graduate school.      

At another school in rural Alabama, where I only worked one year, my third year of teaching, I had a principal tell a white student she should not associate with her “colored” friends. Before accepting this job, I did not know I would be working in an environment where racial discrimination was a norm. Also, I did not realize redneck bullying would happen daily. I was encouraged to use a paddle at this school, since corporeal punishment was still incorporated into the school’s disciplinary procedures. Administrators and other teachers claimed that my students would not respond to any discipline but paddling. I paddled four students that year (way less than other teachers), and I still regret using the wooden weapon. I was bullied by administrators into paddling these students. I was unable to really teach at this school because I was so stifled by the school’s atmosphere. The students were unreceptive to a new teacher trying new teaching strategies. They were accustomed to regurgitating information. Many students rarely even showed up regularly at school, so it was difficult to make progress with any of them.

At my school in Tennessee, my principal, who is ex military, cares for his students and teachers. He also runs the school systematically. The students come from various backgrounds and many hardships. They benefit from structure and enjoy school. Overall, I had a positive experience teaching eleventh grade English and ACT Prep and connected with many of my students. However, much emphasis was placed on the students performing adequately on standardized tests. I spent more time preparing my students for a writing assessment and the ACT than focusing on literature and other components of English Language Arts. Even in the best of circumstances, I still do not feel like I could teach my students to be lifelong learners and thinkers.

Obviously, teachers struggle. Some are more equipped and are simply better teachers than me, but movies, like Freedom Writers and Dangerous Minds, wildly misinform the public about teachers’ and students’ struggles. Also, “No Child Left Behind,” “Common Core,” “100% Graduation,” and all other theories about how to teach our children, only continue to dumb down curriculums and are simply poor ideas.

I have no real conclusions or solutions to education’s many problems. I only have experiences to share, and I only know what I do not want for my son and am just beginning to think about what I do want for him. Schools should be more communal; teachers should have more autonomy; students should have more autonomy; politicians should stay out of our school systems; parents should care about what goes on in schools and should step in more frequently (bring on the helicopter moms and dads); racism should not abound in any school; schools should always embrace and celebrate diversity; creative thinking should happen in every classroom; teachers should love their students as their own; principals should support their teachers. My list could go forever. Change must happen in our schools. Otherwise, home schooling may become a growing trend in our nation as more parents become more skeptical of school systems and our government’s motives regarding education. “Hope springs eternal on a spotless mind,” but many of the schools are hopeless at this point.