The Preamble

As I write this post, teachers by the tens of thousands are protesting the proposed end of their collective bargaining rights in Wisconsin. The tug-of-war between teachers and government is the latest opportunity for commentators and cocktail-party-goers to label teachers as greedy and selfish. I have always found that line of reasoning so astoundingly ignorant of the facts and I want to take a moment and explain why. With the historic nature of what is going in Madison, it seems the right time.

Teachers don’t make a lot of money. We all know this to be true. It’s a common cultural joke that public school teachers drive beat-up cars, bring bagged lunch, and wear old shoes. According to teacherportal.com, which uses multiple sources to aggregate its data, national teacher salaries average anywhere form $38,000-$58,000. It’s not that teachers don’t make a living wage, but no one goes into teaching for the money, it’s a simple as that.

Yet every time there is a budget crisis in this country, it seems that everyone else wishes they could live as high on the hog as they believe teachers do. You hear people scoff at a teacher making $70,000 at the end of her career. The word greedy is tossed around. A lot. But if it is true that teachers are the robber barons that much of the public believes them to be, then why isn’t every pharmacuetical salesperson, copyright editor, and PR executive running to teach?

Teachers in Chicago draw a salary on the higher end of the national average. But there is also a requirement that all city workers live in the city. A teacher who makes $55,000 and lives in Chicago can, after years of saving a down payment, own a small one or two bedroom condo. Many teachers take on second jobs: I worked with a woman who bartended three or four nights a week to buy her condo; another teacher sold beer at baseball games to afford his. Both were single, however. A small condo is not an easy place to raise a family of, say, two kids.

We want teachers to behave like professionals but get paid like replaceable labor. In Teachers Have it Easy, written in part by author Dave Eggers, he argues that teachers “seem to exist in a strange realm with regard to the status of their profession, somewhere between a union-protected workforce and a college faculty. We expect them to be brilliant and capable, and yet we treat them in a way that leaves them feeling untrusted…It’s a rare professional who can live with the seeming contradictions built into the field of public education.” Video by Jay Rehak, featuring “Peace in My Fingers” by his lovely wife, Susan Salidor

The popular line in Madison these days is that teachers need to suffer like the rest of Americans who have lost their jobs. And the teachers have accepted their share of the financial burden: they agreed to what amounts to large cuts in their total compensation packages. So what is at issue now is whether or not teachers (and many other state workers) have the right to get together and bargain for things like workplace standards, additional pay for extracurriculars, class size, and scheduling. These are not small potatoes. These elements of education are at the heart of what makes a good classroom and what makes good instruction. When teachers are treated fairly in these areas, it means students are too.

For example, if a teacher is made to move to a new classroom for every class she teaches and is not given any workspace of her own during her preparatory periods (as in one school where I taught) instruction will suffer from the logistical constraints of that situation. Or, if teachers are not paid for sponsoring clubs (as I was not, despite creating and producing an end of the year school play) student clubs will disappear, or the teachers sponsoring those clubs will simply not put in the extra effort to make them interesting and worthwhile experiences for the students. The importance of class size is well-documented, but I still taught classes of 34 students, some of whom did not have desks. And as for scheduling: Ask any teacher how many times she has planned a test only to find out that there would be a schoolwide assembly during classes that day. Or planned to have a guest speaker come to address her class, only to find out that class periods would be shorter that day.

Teacher’s issues are student’s issues.

What Teachers (still don’t) Get With Strong Unions

Who, if not a teacher, is concerned with how much access to paper and copies a class has, or how many students are in one class, or how much time a teacher has to prepare a quality lesson or unit?

Principals have financial worries, staffing worries, logistical worries. These worries often do not coincide with the worries involved with setting up a successful classroom.

For example, if a successful unit is created using Backward Design (a concept that involves starting with the final assessment and working one’s way backward, creating every quiz, project, handout, and visual aid beforehand, so that the unit is holistic and purposeful), current technology (difficult still in most schools where just scheduling time in the computer lab for one’s students can be like getting a reservation at Alinea), and is rigorous in its assessments (a good test question is comprehensive, analytical, and fair; and often really hard to come up with). The time that such a unit would take to design could be anywhere from 20-100 hours, depending on the grade, subject, and the curriculum. Multiply that by 8 or 10 units in a year for every class taught.

If a teacher is in classes all day and has only one 45-minute preparatory period (as many schools do), she is clearly writing curriculum on her nights, weekends, and summers. She does not bill for those hours, as lawyers do. She does not get overtime for those hours, as many workers do. If a teacher wants to instruct in a quality way with quality assignments, she accepts that she will work many hours without extra pay. And this is with a union’s ability to collectively bargain.

As a teacher in a large urban public school system, I had protection of the union. But, even with that protection and solidarity, I experienced outrageously poor workplace standards, bullying by administrators, and frequent unfairness. At one school, under a new administration, we were told that each teacher would be given one ream of paper per semester. One ream. The rest was up to the teacher to provide for herself.  I was an English teacher who used written instructions for projects and tests to help students learn accountability, who used supplemental materials–such as news articles and related literature–to augment understanding, and who gave lots of quizzes. In a first-world public school system, paper should be a necessity. But I (and most of my department) was not tenured, so we didn’t say a word and instead got preferred customer cards at Staples. It was an expensive year.

Another example: At the same school, I was observed by the assistant principal and was given a glowing review. Except for one thing: I had not tallied (by hand) the amount of absences and tardies in my gradebook (most teachers tally when the data is due, at grade time). This fault went in my permanent file as a lack of record-keeping. It was then made clear to non-tenured teachers, such as myself, that if we made someone mad at that school–had I asked for more paper, for instance, or demanded that the school institute a detention program, which it did not have–we would have had to fear being fired for, in my case, ostensibly not tallying tardies. When I say that my students suffered for my and other teacher’s silence at that school, I am not overstating the reality. By the end of the first semester, the principal had instituted a “closed door policy” and almost all communication was cut off for good. Many teachers left, but the students, of course, remained. And I think of them often.

What does this have to do with collective bargaining? Both of these circumstances are examples of teachers feeling distrusted and unempowered to do their best work in the classroom. And each of these circumstances took place in a strong-union public school system. Imagine if teachers were stripped of any leverage or power regarding their classroom environment and work conditions.

Oh wait. You don’t have to.

What We Get Without Strong Unions

I have a friend whose family member teaches high school Spanish in Oklahoma, where unions are weak and she (we’ll call her Sue), a union rep, has a hard time finding anyone to help her with union business. At that school, just this year, they announced that all teachers will teach six instead of the precedented five classes. They also will have to be in charge of lunch duty 6-7 weeks of the year, where they have a 10-minute lunch and then do duty for 20 minutes. This schedule was not negotiated with the teachers, and it was instituted without any additional pay. What it basically does is make teachers work harder with less time to prepare for the extra work.

A teacher in this district–now with 120-150 total students–will likely have to assign less writing and project-based assignments to her students, spend more time managing classroom behavior, and spend less time giving extra help to students outside of class. When teachers lose, students lose too.

Sue cracked $40,000 in 2003-2004. After 21 years of teaching experience and a with a masters degree. She now makes $53,600 ($62,900 including retirement and health insurance).  This is with 28 years of experience and a masters. Her district’s salary schedule is above the state minimum, and it used to be — might still be — one of the top 20 highest paying districts in Oklahoma. Sue is a single mother who raised two daughters on her own.

What we have to stop pretending is that teachers are volunteers. They are not. They are professionals, many of whom have advanced degrees. And they ought to be treated as professionals, otherwise we attract candidates that are, simply put, not professional.

There is a lot of peripheral talk in America these days about incentive pay for teachers: recruiting professionals from white collar careers to be public school teachers. But when a bilingual high school teacher with a masters can only crack $40,000 after 21 years, teaching will only ever attract saints and sinners; neither of whom guarantees our children a high quality education. It does guarantee that we can cut teacher pay when we want. And the rights of teachers, apparently: Oklahoma just passed legislation that will take away teacher’s rights to collectively bargain.

Finnish schools have been held as a model of what the US would like our education to look like. Tied for first place in the world, Finnish students often score highest in reading and science tests. But some of the conventional wisdom about what makes a top-notch school system is debunked by Finland’s reality. For instance, according to a BBC profile on Finland’s schools, “Finnish children spend the fewest number of hours in the classroom in the developed world.” And in “What Makes Finnish Kids So Smart”, the Wall Street Journal reports that “High-school students here rarely get more than a half-hour of homework a night. They have no school uniforms, no honor societies, no valedictorians, no tardy bells and no classes for the gifted. There is little standardized testing, few parents agonize over college and kids don’t start school until age 7.”  And finally, and importantly, teachers in Finland are unionized and collectively bargain.

What is a less surprising component of Finland’s successful schools, is that, according to the BBC, “Teaching is a prestigious career in Finland. Teachers are highly valued and teaching standards are high.”

American educator and lawyer Derek Bok said, “If education is expensive, try ignorance.” Expensive does not just describe monetary costs, though. What is happening in Madison is not about money. It’s not about balancing the budget in Wisconsin. And, though negotiating with teachers might sometimes mean an administrator or legislator must give up a little time, a few desires, and even some pride, ignoring them will be far more expensive in the long run because their voices, which are all too often the voices of students too, will be silenced. Which would be a shame, because they are strong, creative, and interesting voices that need to be heard:

The headmaster at my high school would read “A Christmas Carol” every year. He was an older man with a beard like Santa Claus, who was quick to smile and compliment. When we were seniors, we were given the option of attending his reading (for the fourth time) or having the period free. We all attended. It was a tradition.

My parents would read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to us every year. I still remember the droll little Santa, drawn by my favorite children’s illustrator, Gyo Fujikawa.

But this post is a holiday shout out to my very favorite Christmas story, Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory”. My colleague and friend, Joe Scotese, reads it in his English class every year, and dozens of his former students, squashed together with his current students, cram into his classroom to hear him read. This year was Joe’s last reading, which makes me sad: Joe is a gifted teacher who infuses his love of literature into everything he does. But if you’re in the mood for a little nostalgia and sentimentalism, you can read the story yourself. The full text is available here.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

This is part of a series. To read the first post, which discusses the origins, click here.


Air Canada sponsored a holiday flash mob this week. It was a way to get travelers into the holiday spirit and, I am not embarrassed to admit, it made me cry a little. Flash mobs are emblems of sincere joy and unabashed enthusiasm; they stand in stark juxtaposition to the cynicism, aloofness, and indifference which pervades our media and pop cultural influences these days. Members of flash mobs say, If you’re happy and you’re not too cool to show it, clap your hands. And it warms my heart.

There is certainly a place for cynicism. Astronaut David T. Wolf once said that “idealism is what precedes experience, cynicism is what follows.” And I suppose that the world needs realists. How else can we act with intention if we do not fully understand the needs of an imperfect world? But, while years ago cynicism was closer to a sense of caution and realism, today cynicism is a philosophy and almost a sport.

I watched A Charlie Brown Christmas with my two-year-old the other night. He loved the music and Snoopy, and I loved the message. I don’t think I’d paid attention to it much in the past, but Charlie Brown’s earnestness in directing a serious Christmas pageant, picking an authentic Christmas tree, and considering the meaning of the holiday season, is so rare. Earnestness is thought of as a silly character trait in a world of Wikileaks, cable news, and non-stop advertising. An earnest person seems naive, or just unable to play it cool.

It’s hard to wear an ironic t-shirt if you’re earnest.

Judith Acosta wrote a really articulate article this week called Narcissism: The New Normal? in which she links the decision of the psychiatric diagnostic standards manual (the DSM-V) to remove the narcissistic personality disorder from its roster to the pervasive narcissism we experience on a daily basis in the form of public cell phone conversations, meals interrupted by Blackberries, and Twitter being Twitter.

Acosta argues that “a trend of unrestrained entitlement and narcissism…has undermined not only our expectations (of each other, of government, of business, of life itself) but the natural order of family structure.” Her larger point involves the repercussions this cultural shift has on children and parenting, but I also think that the contrast between how we relate to one another today versus, say, fifty years ago, is shocking: When the focus of energy was on other people’s needs before our own–in the form of, say, prescribed manners and civics classes–people tended to behave more sincerely and less cynically. Think of Leave it to Beaver. We would call that show cheesy now. And yet people were entertained by it because it struck a chord close to what they knew and valued: Straightforwardness, sincerity, earnestness.

Believe me, I know the ’50s wasn’t all poodle skirts and milkshakes. But it was a time where people were often forced to consider other people’s needs before their own: TVs couldn’t record shows, so everyone had to agree or compromise on what to watch, most families had one car so schedules had to be coordinated, and people talked to each other far more than we do today. There were fewer distractions and diversions, so people talked.

On Conan O’Brien’s last night hosting The Tonight Show, he implored his audience in the following way:

“All I ask of you, especially young people…is one thing. Please don’t be cynical. I hate cynicism — it’s my least favorite quality and it doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.” 

As much as I never thought I would take parenting philosophies from a man who wears a pompadour, Conan articulated something that is important to our core happiness. And, above all else, we want our children to be happy; and it is hard to be happy when you are unhappy all the time. I mean, that kind of goes without saying, but that is was cynicism is. It is an attitude of “scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others”(thefreedictionary.com).

Distrust the media. Fine. Scorn the laws you don’t agree with. Okay. But don’t distrust the kindness of a stranger helping you with bags at the airport. Don’t scorn the Christmas gift that isn’t exactly what you wanted. To be happy is to be kind in your actions and your thoughts. Usually one is harder than the other. But sincerity is to try–and to not be too cool to try.


7am.

This was the start of my first class at the first school I ever taught in. It was a large urban school district, and my school was so overcrowded that they had to extend the day much earlier to accommodate all of its students.

I had a first-period class of 32 students; 18 showed up with regularity. Many, because of domestic unrest,  had to travel a distance to get to school (one had to be at the bus stop at 4:30 am in order for her three bus transfers to get her to class by 7 am). Phone calls home, points deducted from participation grades, detentions–none of these improved attendance. One morning, as I made a round of calls to parents of truant students, a veteran teacher looked over the cubicle wall at me and said, “Don’t waste your breath. It won’t do a thing.”

By the time my grades were due, half the class was failing due to the fact that, well, they weren’t in the class. After submitting my progress reports, I got a form letter from the principal stating that “no more than 1/3 of the class may fail.” And, that I should “look inward at [my] teaching practices to find a way to help the students.”

At this school, my first school, I had no mentors; I had no resources; I had no help. And I cried a lot.

So, when Tony Danza broke out in tears on Teach, his new documentary which follows his first year as a teacher in an urban school system, I understood completely. Though some may have thought he was being dramatic (or just a ninny),  I understood the feeling of doing one of the most important jobs in the world, and doing it poorly. The learning curve for new teachers is so sharp that half leave the profession after three years, many citing burn-out. So, after watching Danza weep his way through his second week of teaching, I thought it might be nice to put together a Troubleshooting Manual for new teachers teaching in an urban school system without any support at all–while trying desperately to be good at what they do. Most solutions are surprisingly simple, but they work.

I wish I’d had something like this when I started out. And believe me, I googled the hell out of “New+Teaching+Tips”.

Danza’s Problem #1: Texting in Class
Solution: Bags on the Floor

They will roll their eyes (But only for the first week). They will tell you their bag is too expensive to get dirty (Then it shouldn’t be brought to school). They will even really just be covering their stomachs with it (Out of body self-consciousness or, sometimes, hiding pregnancy). But they must put their bags on the floor.

A bag on a lap conveniently hides a phone, a portable game player, or homework from a class other than yours. Eliminate the bag, eliminate the cover.

This will solve 50% of the texting problem. But Danza also runs into the pervasive text-cheat problem, too, and every teacher has varying approaches to discipline. I would offer, however, that well-established, well-vocalized, and well-enforced boundaries are the friend of every teacher. If the students know what to expect, they will not feel you are being unfair when you have to enforce the rules. And fairness is the only quality that matters, ultimately: You can be a nice, funny, or exciting teacher. But if you are not fair, the students will not respect you or the work you ask them to do.

Danza’s Problem #2: “We read but don’t remember.”
Solution: Post-its

When a student tells me he reads but can’t seem to remember (this usually comes up on a quiz day), I always ask him, “But did you read?” Because if I walked on the treadmill at the slowest pace possible while eating a hotdog, I didn’t work out. I did “do the treadmill”, if anyone asks, but I did not actually exercise. Same goes for reading. Looking at the words and turning the pages is called glancing. Reading means thinking.


www.luiscaldasdeoliveira.com

However, students generally cannot mark their school-issued books, so it is difficult to ask them to annotate, which is the only way to make and remember connections…Unless they have Post-its! A wonderful mentor shared this tip with me early in my teaching career, and I still consider it a great gift. The small ones (1.5 x 2 inch) work the best because they clutter the page less. I make these Post-its a mandatory supply on my syllabus and my students use them when they can’t mark the text directly.

Students who are not used to annotating will complain. But, as time goes on, they will find it immeasurably helpful. Give them a general number per page that you will expect (this number will vary depending on the density of the reading). And as they become accustom to the habit, ask them to expand their annotations beyond personal reactions and unknown vocabulary words to synthesizing plot details, evaluating character’s choices, and analyzing literary techniques. Not only will they understand what they are reading, they will understand why they are reading.

Danza’s Problem #3: Signing In on Time
Solution: Do it. Don’t forget.

It was a cringe-worthy four minutes of television when Tony Danza got eviscerated by the vice principal for not signing in on time. And most viewers probably thought it was a tad dramatic. But it was actually pretty realistic.

In every job there is an administrative duty that seems insignificant, yet is one of the most important to a person’s success in the field. Though they might feel utilitarian (even a little demeaning) punching in and out, and signing in and out on time are very, very important duties for a teacher to remember. Your record of attendance will follow you this way and your pay check will be calculated this way. But, more importantly, forgetting these important duties makes work for the main office staff. And they do not like that. And you will hear about it. And you don’t have time for that.

Oh, and while we’re at it, poor record-keeping in your class attendance can get you fired. Seriously. Daily attendance is a legal document that can, and often is, subpoenaed in cases relating to a suspect’s alibi. You as a teacher can be called to testify regarding the accuracy of your records. And more important than that (though it shouldn’t be), the school and district’s funding is often directly tied to its attendance rates. Bad records that result in less money for the school will result in some sort of disciplinary action for you. What an unremarkable way to get in trouble.

Punch in. Punch out. Sign in. Sign out.

Danza’s Problem #3: Grading Tests
Solution: Only create a test you want to grade.

When progress reports are looming and you are racing to cover the material on your syllabus it is easy to create a test that is lackluster. This can mean that the test addresses  good analytical concepts, but the questions are phrased poorly, or even that concepts not adequately covered in class make their way onto the test. The best advice given to me was to never create a test you wouldn’t want to grade.

Decide what you are using the test for. If you have already assigned a project which allows students to demonstrate higher order thinking skills, you may be using the test to simply tell whether or not they have read or studied the assigned material. A test can be useful to that end. However I would recommend trying a different tactic that was taught to me by a wonderful group of veteran English teachers: Reading quizzes.

Reading quizzes are not really pop quizzes as the students know they are coming. Often, when assessing a difficult text (The Odyssey for example) I would even allow them to use their annotations. I tell students to always be prepared for a reading quiz and I generally give them a quiz on the day a reading assignment is due. The quiz is between three and five questions. I make several versions: two versions per class period (their eyes will wander and they will talk at lunch).

I give them about a minute per question, so it doesn’t take much class time.

Joe Scotese's wonderful teaching website

They should be recall questions (but not from Cliffs Notes). Thanks to my friend and mentor Joe Scotese, I also ask them whether or not they read. Surprisingly, many students will just be honest and save you the time of having to read totally made up answers (“Odysseus was mad at the suitors because they had taken a joy ride on his boat“). By five minutes into the class period you will know who has read and who hasn’t. If you are doing group work, the students that haven’t read will have to complete the assignment on their own. If you are having a class discussion, you will not have to wonder who to call on. Best of all, reading completion levels rise with this method over time, because students know they will be held accountable.

If you quiz students on every reading, and you assign a paper or project over the course of the unit, you may not have to test them. If you have studied other concepts during the reading unit (grammar, for example) you can now simply test them on those concepts without creating a big bear of a test which will end up being a big bear to grade.Danza’s test had open ended questions that would have been better answered in an essay or a short answer test.

And my specific advice to Danza: Asking students to make hypothetical predictions about characters=Difficult, and possibly unfair, test.

Danza’s Problem #4: Cheating
Solution: Collect the evidence. Have a plan. Do not waver.

In class, a student is texting. Danza asks him to simply put away his phone. This is what you ask of a friend during dinner, not of your student. You take the phone from a student. Why?

Turns out, as Danza was reviewing a test, that student was texting the answers to a kid making up the same test in the hall. If Danza had collected the phone he could have had the evidence to confront his students. Instead he tried the Good Cop’s Do the Right Thing and Confess method, which anyone who watches enough Law & Order knows doesn’t work. You need evidence. Always take the phone.

Besides catching cheaters, it sets a good example: This is a place where you will be held accountable for your actions. The class can feel safe within those kinds of boundaries. No one will have to fear that another student is sending mean texts about her during your class, no one will have to wonder if his grade is equal to another student’s after seeing that kid text during a test, and no one will have to feel embarrassed the she is paying attention to the ins and outs of action verbs, while others are engaged in cooler activities. Have boundaries and stick to them. It levels the social and academic playing fields for your students.

Got it, Teach?

My name is Sarah and I am a feminist.

I’ve tried to stop. I know it goes against today’s social norms. But I’ve come to terms with it. It’s not going away.

It started in college. Maybe with A Doll’s House. No, no. It started in high school. With The Yellow Wallpaper. Wait a minute, it must have been earlier than that: I remember being embarrassed by girls who spent all of recess watching the boys play ball instead of doing something fun for themselves. It must have started then.

It was a blessing that my high school did not have a cheerleading squad; I don’t think I would have been able to stomach it. Even now, watching cheerleaders at professional sports games makes me uncomfortable. I mean, what exactly is their purpose? Just to cheer for the men? What other sport is completely dependent on another for its existence?

When the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup this year, there was a little-run news story about how the “Blackhawks Girls” were snubbed from taking part in the rally in downtown Chicago. I saw the interviews on our local news station and the girls seemed genuinely disappointed. I felt bad for them. All I could think was, How are you not in on the joke? Because if they were under the impression that they were somehow integral in the Blackhawks regaining the Stanley Cup after 49 years, they were seriously misguided. But I felt sympathetic to these women because, from a very young age, most girls understand that they are being judged on their ability to appeal to others.  And it’s easy to confuse that ability with true, authentic ability.

True ability involves skill, expertise, and proficiency. Which leads to power of one kind or another. And the neat thing about true abilities–intellect, creativity, resourcefulness–is that they don’t need to be validated by another person in order to be legitimate. Added bonus: they don’t get old, gray, or go out of style.

I don’t watch TV unless it is something I have recorded. This was not a conscious decision; it just seemed like every time I tried to channel surf I became depressed about the state our society, and specifically, women. But, recently, when I was in a particularly boring mood, and my DVR was filled almost to capacity with only Nova and The Soup, I tried my luck and watched what I will now only refer to as Dante’s Inferno. Though some of you might know it better as Keeping Up With the Kardashians.

It’s the kind of show I wouldn’t mind, and could even laugh at, if it weren’t so freaking popular. It’s popularity means that there are people who take this show seriously. And many of those are likely young women. The episode I watched showed a very-scripted Khloe pursuing the challenging and elusive goal of getting a bikini wax before her basketball-star husband returns home. You’d think a woman who can buy her husband at $400,000 car could figure out how to get herself to a salon. But, then, what would E! fill its thirty-minute episode with?

I shouldn’t mock. Khloe and her sister, Kourtney, spent the episode doing things most sisters do all the time:

  • Talk to Tommy Lee about women. And bikini wax shapes. And keeping a man happy. Because, you know, his opinion matters on these things.
  • Try on lingerie together. Come one step away from a pillow-fight in their skivvies.
  • Decide that the best solution to the nagging bikini-wax issue is a sister-on-sister bikini-wax party. (It gets so wild and crazy that they actually move from the couch to the kitchen counter.)

The entire focus of the episode is Khloe’s husband. And what will he think! if she is not properly trimmed! when he arrives back from playing basketball! (Which, by the way, is a true ability. Like, an actual skill.)

And the girls’ abilities? Well, I suppose waxing, if mastered, would count. But they don’t ever seem to master it. They burn and botch and, truth be told, that is where I turned it off. I didn’t have the stomach for any more of it. I spent the next hour wishing I’d watched Nova, and been further bored, instead of watching Dante’s Third and Fourth Circles, and become newly depressed.

Going into seventh grade I was a summer TV glutton. During the school year, my sister and I weren’t allowed to watch TV during the week, so I tried to make up for that deficit on summer nights. Every week, in the flimsy newspaper-issued TV Guide, I would highlight–actually highlight– the programs I wanted to watch. They were all reruns: always Mama’s Family, sometimes MASH, often Alice. There’s really no accounting for taste.

I was forbidden from watching Married…With Children (I can’t imagine why). But there were times throughout the week when I could sneak in an episode here and there. I never highlighted it in the TV Guide; instead I would put a little yellow dot next to it, as a reminder to myself. I was crafty like that. One July evening,  I was watching an episode in which a beautiful woman comes to Al Bundy’s door. It’s clear to the viewer that she is meant to be the epitome of feminine beauty: Blonde, tall…oh, and wearing nothing but a trench coat. Obviously.

Somehow, in a sitcom turn of fate, Al ends up feeling the woman’s legs, and about four minutes (of the 22-minute episode) are devoted to how silky, smooth, and buttery her legs feel. I remember watching that episode, turning off the TV, going to my parent’s room and lathering my legs with my mom’s Jergen’s Body Lotion. In thirty minutes of TV-watching I had learned how important it was for me to appeal physically to others. How about that for feminine indoctrination?

Researching this post, I ran into a 2004 Ms. Magazine article. The author, Jennifer Pozner, eloquently articulates the impact of reality show’s sexist stereotyping:

Dangerous beauty myths are fundamental to the reality universe, where women are unworthy of love and happiness if they’re not stereotypical hot babes…They want women to think like June Cleaver, look like Miss America and — in a nod to modernity — have sex like Madonna. Hello, Stepford.

She’s right. Except that we’re not a country of Stepford Wives anymore. We’re a country of Blackhawk Girls, Kardashian Klans, and Housewives of Every County.

Al Bundy would be proud.

I have been wanting to delineate a list of values that can direct my husband and me as we raise our child. It seems easy, but it’s really not if you want to be intentional and specific about it. When I was studying acting, there was a basic exercise in which an actor would have to sit in front of the class and mime an activity that she performed every day. For instance, I chose brushing my teeth. And the goal was to be as specific as possible in one’s actions so that the audience could understand, not just what you were doing, but how you did it.

Afterward, my professor would ask questions such as, What kind of toothpaste does she use? What kind of faucet handle does she have? and, depending on whether the actor was specific in her actions, the students could answer that she had a tube of toothpaste (because she had to roll up the bottom to get some out) or that she had round knobs on her sink (because she used all of her wrist and fingers in a twisting motion). What I took away from that exercise is that specificity leads to better communication, which leads to understanding, which (hopefully) leads to implementation.

So I want to be specific about what I want my child to learn and be. The first tenant I am tackling is gratitude.

Gratitude

Each of the tenants I will write about have two goals for my son: That he be content in his life and that he make others feel content in theirs. And gratitude is the first step in this direction. This week, in The Huffington Post, Dr. Jim Taylor discussed the emotional impact that gratitude has on oneself:

Gratitude is such a simple, yet powerful emotion. In fact, one of the most surprising and robust findings of the growing body of research on happiness is that expressing gratitude has on one’s basic level of happiness. In a nutshell, when people express gratitude, they feel happier for several days. And, not unexpectedly, the recipients of that gratitude feel pretty darned good too.

And the impact it has on others:

There are load of upsides to gratitude. Aside from the happiness boost you get, gratitude has also been related to higher energy, a more optimistic attitude, and greater empathy toward others. And you make the people to whom you express gratitude happy. Gratitude also has survival value. When you express gratitude toward others, they’re more likely to help you in the future, thereby increasing your chances of survival.

Yet a growing number of people seem to view gratitude as a weak character trait. In sports, pop culture, and business, we increasingly value aggressiveness over politeness: I got mine, how are you doing?

When we get bad customer service, we are indignant (how dare he?) but when we get good customer service we are indifferent (that is his job, isn’t it?). I fall victim to this cycle of ingratitude all of the time. But it leads me to unhappiness, if only temporarily. And the higher road, the road of empathizing and respecting others, generally makes me feel happy when I choose to take it.

Dr. Taylor also discusses the role materialism and greed plays into the lack of gratitude we see so often:

The problem is that, by never being satisfied with what we have, we can never be grateful for what we have. And, by extension, in always wanting more, more, more, we feel unsatisfied and inadequate about who and where we are now. We need to step back and gain perspective on what we have. Compared to about 99% of the world, we have so much. We should feel fortunate, not wanting, for all that we have.

Source: ModernVintageHome

When I was growing up, my friends had to call my home phone in order to get in touch with me. There was something comforting about that for a parent–it allowed them to get to know their children’s friends and children had to learn to respect their friend’s parents. But it also made ownership of the phone crystal clear: To find me at my parent’s home you must call me on their phone. In other words, there was no misunderstanding about who was paying for the phone, and making my three-hour chat-marathons possible.  I am not saying that I realized this at thirteen years old, but there was a certain social construct in place that created clear roles between adults and children. And as a teenager, though I desperately wanted independence and autonomy from my parents, (the closest thing I ever got to having my own phone was a ten foot long chord that I could drag from the family room into my bedroom), in my heart I knew my limitations as a child and my parent’s responsibilities as adults. And with that understanding came an inherent gratitude.

source: Little Spring Design

Yet, today’s children have their own personal phones on which they can be reached whenever by whomever. They can personalize their home screen, download personalized ring tones, and fill the contact list with only their friends. And I’ve met and taught many of these kids who believe that a phone is their birthright. They believe that they need and deserve a phone, without much thought about the folks who make their texting and calling possible. The line between point A and point B isn’t as straight as it once was and therefore I don’t really blame the kids themselves. Besides, a teenager’s narrow worldview lends itself to a certain self-centeredness. It’s up to parents to teach them gratitude. It’s up to parents to limit the amount of “more, more, more” they seek. And it’s up to parents to remind ourselves that we are doing it for their long-term happiness.

I want my son to be as happy with a little as he is with a lot. There will be times in his life when he will have to make do with less money or possessions and my goal is that he can remain independent, good-natured, and confident during those times. On the flip side, I don’t want him to feel guilty when he is enjoying a fancy vacation or buying a brand-new suit–there is happiness in big rewards as well. Gratitude is contentedness, whatever the situation.

My friend, Leslie, made a CD of kids songs for her son’s first birthday. My little pal and I listen to it weekly, if not more (okay, much, much more). The last song is sung a cappella, and in a round, by a wonderful Chicago-based children’s singer named Susan Salidor. I don’t know if it is the simplicity of the presentation or the specificity of the message, but it sticks with me for days after I’ve listened to it. It’s now my version of a bedtime prayer with my son:

Every Moment, Every Day

It is possible to be thankful every moment, every day
It takes practice and humility
It takes vision and civility
It takes beauty and the wisdom
To see it every day.

I will likely post more on gratitude. It turns out to be the foundation of the values that I want my little pal to live with; yet it is also the most elusive. Gratitude doesn’t mean to just be thankful that you got a new shirt. It means to be accepting, empathetic, polite, satisfied, generous, and nearly everything else a person must be in order to be truly happy every moment, every day.

In an effort to help me sort out my own Intentional Parenting List, I’d love to hear from readers–what do you think are the most important values to teach children?

Last week, Ain’t no Mom Jeans summed up the Environmental Working Group’s sunscreen research and recommendations. It was a lot to get through and a lot to understand. And, being a man of science, my husband was skeptical. He demanded to know the sources, methods, algorithms, and beaker size involved in EWG’s research. And to some extent, once I got to the punch line–that the only good sunscreens are upwards of $12 an ounce–I was skeptical too.

But the research is good research as far as either of us can tell. When I started reading nanotechnology statistics to my husband (Herzog method, anyone?) we both sort of called a truce. Because the real story seems to be that a lot of the risks are simply unknown. And, though I am a bargain-hunter at heart, reading evidence such as the following was disturbing enough to make me proud to plunk down a cool $20 for a tube so small it can fit in my back pocket:

In FDA’s one-year study, tumors and lesions developed up to 21 percent sooner in lab animals coated in a vitamin A-laced cream (at a concentration of 0.5%) than animals treated with a vitamin-free cream. Both groups were exposed to the equivalent of just nine minutes of maximum intensity sunlight each day (Environmental Working Group).

In this case, Vitamin A is in 41% of sunscreens, so a buyer has to be pretty diligent to avoid it. And how about this Fun Fact:

The Environmental Working Group tested more than 780 sunscreen products currently on the market, and found many contain potentially harmful chemicals which could be bad for your children. Among them: something called oxybenzone that the group fears could act as a hormone disruptor for your kids. At least 95 percent of the girls they tested who used sunscreen had the substance in their urine (City News Canada).

Great.

I can’t claim to understand the real and long-term impact of these chemicals. But I do know that cancer continues to be pervasive and proliferate, and rates of early puberty are also on the rise. It might not be the oxybenzone in my sunscreen, nor the pesticides on our fruit, nor the hormones in our milk. But it has to be something. That’s about as far as I’ve gotten. And that’s good enough for me.

Right now we are trying out California Baby simply because it is available at Target, making it one of the only convenient choices recommended by EWG. Expensive, but convenient. But, after buying California Baby in a panic, I looked up Neutrogena Pure & Free on EWG’s website and it seems to be a good choice too. It’s half the price of California Baby, so we’ll likely go with that in the future.

Below is a list from EWG’s Shopper’s Guide to Safer Sunscreens. Just be aware that many still have chemicals you may not want in your sunscreen. (Blue Lizard, for instance, has many parabens listed as ingredients, which seem no better than oxybenzone). I guess they like to keep us on our toes…our sun-burnt, chemical-covered toes.

BEST EASY-TO-FIND SUNSCREENS

California Baby – any sunscreen
Mustela – “Sun Cream” or “Sun Lotion, Bebe”
Mission Skincare – “Face Stick”
Neutrogena – “Pure & Free” or “Sensitive Skin”
Blue Lizard – “Face”, “Baby”, or “Sensitive”
Jason Natural or Earth’s Best – “Mineral Based”
Solar Sense – “Clear Zinc Sport Stick”
CVS – “Sport Sunstick”
Coppertone Water BABIES – “Pure & Simple”

Certain cleaning products always amaze me. Martha Stewart says to use vinegar on nearly everything–from stainless steel to bath toys–and because I pretty much do whatever Martha tells me, I have started to use vinegar as one of my only cleaning agents. As with most things, Martha is right. Vinegar is awesome.

But, while vinegar has won my respect, baking soda has won my heart. Here’s why:

Two weeks ago I came to discover that my little pal’s teeth were discolored. The two front ones–the ones that start off his happy little smile that brightens moods in every Kohl’s and Walgreens we step foot in. His teeth were streaked and grayish, with a hint of green. Of course my first thought was eww! We better brush better! But anyone who has every tried brushing a toddler’s teeth knows that, while the molars are pretty easy to get at, the front ones are like playing wack-a-mole: just when you land, they get covered up again.

Nonetheless, we brushed better and harder. But there wasn’t any improvement. On to my next thought: Oh, no. I am to blame.

This is familiar to any mother, I am sure. I started off thinking that maybe I wasn’t providing him enough calcium or Vitamin D in his diet. After a quick check of the labels in the fridge (Vitamin D Fortified! Calcium Enriched!) I started thinking that maybe I gave him too much multi-vitamin, or the wrong brand. And then I dug really deep into my Box o’ Guilt and thought that maybe it had something to do with my diet while I was nursing him. Or when I was pregnant!I am not a big meat eater. Maybe I deprived him of iron. And once I drank full-strength coffee in my third trimester. Could they be coffee stains? (Incidentally, this is the driving reason that  I abstain from nearly every deli meat, sushi roll, and soft cheese while I am pregnant. Obviously the baby’s health is important, but mostly I don’t need more excuses to blame myself later).

During this self-flagellation I was Googling like a mad person to find the error of my ways. As with any desperate medical internet search, I mostly found accounts of lifelong damage and rare diseases. Just as my eyes started to well up with tears, I stumbled onto a thread that suggested brushing the child’s teeth with baking soda to mildly scrape away the build-up.

I did.

It worked.

He cried.

I smiled.

The thing about having a baby is you can’t avoid using babysitters. And the thing with babysitters is that they are almost always younger. Which means they have fewer responsibilities. Which means they are still wide-eyed and indiscriminately excited and happy. Which means they have great, shiny skin.

But the other night I was talking to my (other) babysitter, a twenty-something woman who is pursuing her dream of professional acting, and I remembered the not-so-shiny side of being right out of college with only opportunity in front of you.

It was as if I was talking to myself ten years ago. See, I, fresh with a theatre degree and Chekhov and Shakespeare roles under my belt, set off to become an actor, too. First in New York City and then in Chicago. My career included an extra role on Law & Order (impressive to my family; available to most NYC actors), an off-off-Broadway play (performed on 42nd Street; but really, really far west), and a national tour of a bilingual, musical version of The Little Prince (need I say more? Oh, wait, yes: it was performed for cranky highschoolers).

You could say it was a varied career. I spent most of the first three years I was in New York interning at my manager’s office in the hopes that she would sent me out on auditions. Instead, realizing I was over-qualified for stuffing envelopes and weighing for postage, my manager strung me along as an actor and used my office talents (I am a wiz at coffee orders) for as long as she could, until I grew up and grew wise(er).

When I moved to Chicago I thought a new city and a clean slate would help my career, but every show I booked (barring my last show at The Royal George) didn’t pay a dime. I found myself acting little and temping lots. It got old. I got older. And I switched careers (from acting to teaching) when I was twenty-five.

So, as I changed my son’s diaper and talked to my babysitter about her reservations about acting as a long-term career, I felt like I was talking to my twenty-five-year-old self. And I sort of started to. Which might have been awkward for her, but was pretty cathartic for me.

I wanted to tell her everything that I had done so she would know she was not alone in her struggle. I wanted to tell her everything I wished I’d done so maybe she would have more of an edge than I did. But, most of all, I wanted to tell her that, in many ways, life isn’t short. Life is long. And the decisions you make in your twenties do, in fact, shape a how long your life actually feels.

Maybe young babysitters have been sent to help me reflect on my twenties. Maybe babysitters are there to hold the mirror up to nature so I see myself more clearly and can then go on to be a better parent, partner, and person.

Or maybe I just need a night out without my kid.

Recently I woke up earlier than usual to actually style my hair before my son woke up. I even put on foundation, which I really only do a few times a year. I can’t say why I did it; I just felt that I wanted to look put together. I had a dental appointment: I would be interacting with people other than moms and one-and-a-half year-olds, and I thought I should join the adult table with a little extra matte on my face and shine in my hair.

So, when I was judged based on how I looked, I took it a little personally.

I know I am not 20 anymore. I mean, I get it. Bars where I once used to have a few drinks now make me feel like I am a teacher, and the girls in the bathroom (reapplying cat eyes and texting from stall to stall) are  my students. This feeling is compounded by the fact that I actually am a teacher. And, as a rule, I don’t like to mix business with pleasure.

So, after my dental appointment, I met up with my twenty-one year old babysitter, who was watching my son at a nearby Starbucks. When I arrived, half of my face was numb from the Novocaine, and I was weighed down like a Sherpa with groceries. It wasn’t my finest moment but I can’t say it was anomalous as far as my stay-at-home days go.

When I arrived, two women, in their mid-thirties, came over and smilingly said to me, “You’re the mother? Oh, thank God! We were over there having our coffee and hating your babysitter because we thought she was the mother! She’s so perfectly put together and your son is so cute…we just hated her!”

Now, I almost let them off the hook when they brought up how cute my son is, but then the other woman had to go and say, “No offense.”

And that is when you know you should be insulted. It’s like a canary in the coalmine–no mistaking it now. No offense means I am saying something to your face that I shouldn’t be saying but now I regret it a little bit. It’s a backpedal.

I took offense.

When I was eighteen I played Heidi in The Heidi Chronicles (a better irony I do not now know) and I remember at the end of Heidi’s monologue, as she tries to make sense of the pressures women face in a lecture titled “Women: Where Are We Going”, she says, “We’re all concerned, intelligent, good women. It’s just that I feel stranded. And I thought the whole point was that we wouldn’t feel stranded. I thought the point was that we were all in this together.” Even at eighteen, I understood that feeling. And on this day I understood it in a different way, though likely closer to the way in which Wasserstein intended it. And it made me feel better, actually.

Because here’s the worst part–I understood what these Starbucks women were saying. For three reasons:

One, my babysitter is adorable. She wears skinny jeans with trendy boat shoes and doesn’t look like a homeless hipster. She has golden blonde hair and tosses it back in a ponytail straight out of bed and it doesn’t look like she should be committed. And she’s twenty-one. Period. Twenty-One is a good look on nearly everyone.

Secondly, I used to be my babysitter. Jeans and a t-shirt was a cute look, not a painting uniform. Shorts were short and didn’t make me look like a phys. ed. teacher. And now? It’s more work. Especially post-baby, post-thirty. I have to shop with my age in mind.  A horrible phrase, but it’s true. I need shirts with a bit of length to them (a strange phenomenon post-pregnancy: every shirt is shorter on me). I’ve put away anything with the word Lycra on the label. Makeup is not really optional, gray hairs need hiding… No need to list everything; what I do still have is my pride.

www.wordsaboutthings.wordpress.com

credit: www.wordsaboutthings.wordpress.com

And, finally,  I have had the exact same experience from their side of Starbucks. Sipping a non-fat latte, while watching a woman who is way too put together, and wondering, What the hell does she know that I don’t?

But the bright side is that if the woman I watched from behind my latte was in her twenties, she doesn’t know anything that I don’t. In fact, I am pretty sure I know a lot more. And I am happier now that I ever was when I was twenty-anything.

Cause here’s the thing–my babysitter doesn’t even have a real job yet. She’s graduated from a good college and is still trying to figure out what she’ll do and who she’ll be. And I don’t envy her. I’m not searching anymore, wondering about what my life will be like. That was stressful and scary and I am glad that chapter has ended. In an interview, the actress Julianne Moore once said that she would describe her twenties as “a puddle”, and I agree. It’s when you stare at a blank sheet of paper and can’t decide what to write. Sometimes you don’t write anything. Sometimes you write embarrassing, humiliating things. And sometimes you write things that don’t make sense later. And that is what your twenties are for.

So, I cut the Starbucks women some slack. We’re all in this together I guess.

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