More Complex Than a Tweet

I have refrained, until now, from commenting in any way on the #metoo fad, largely because it is just that, an internet fad.  Like any other internet fad, the desire to participate in a fad clouds the real purpose and dilutes any effect it could have.  People who didn't care before it became a fad are unlikely to care about it later.  Case and point: I know a lot of people who poured buckets of ice water over their head, and not one of them can tell you the current state of ALS research.  This issue requires a depth of thought, endurance, compassion, legal action, and honest reflection.  These are not qualities we find in a fad.

Sexual harassment is a thorny and complex issue that cannot be addressed in a tweet, and it deserves more than a two-word hashtag.  In my attempt to process it, I have had many thoughts.  What you see below is my attempt to deal with those thoughts.  Many of them are incomplete, some may be contradictory as I attempt to sort them out in my own mind, and they are listed in no particular order.

1.  This is clearly a widespread problem.  When you look at the diversity of people who have been accused and their accusers, the case cannot be made that this is a one-sided, agenda-driven issue.  Roy Moore and John Conyers fall into this bucket with Harvey Weinstein and Al Franken (and let's not forget, this list started with Bill Cosby a few years ago and now includes Charlie Rose).  Some people are excusing everyone on their side of the political spectrum while vilifying those on the other side.  This is the worst kind of moral relativism.  It's wrong no matter who is doing it.

2.  Everyone has a right to due process. The reflex to invoke innocent until proven guilty is tricky.  It is an important legal concept when we are talking about convicting someone of a crime, but it is being applied in a non-legal context.  The accused has a right to due process, but so does the accuser.  Those who are touting "innocent until proven guilty" on Twitter don't have a problem assuming the victims are guilty until proven innocent.  If you are going to be intellectually honest, you can't default to believing the accused or the accuser.  Credibility needs to be assessed.

3.  All accusations are not created equal.  I am not a fan of Al Franken (well, okay, I liked him on SNL), but it is concerning when his actions are put in the same category with child molestation.  They are not the same.  They are both wrong, but they would be treated quite differently in a court of law.  Part of the problem with the hashtag is that it made all stories equal.  Some women have suffered greatly while others have felt uncomfortable that someone they didn't like flirted with them.  In the hashtag world, these women have the same story and get the same number of hearts and comments.  The hashtag may show how widespread the problem is, but it only shows how wide. If women told the actual stories, we would see how deep this problem is for some. 

4.  All forms of sexual harassment are wrong - physical, visual, and verbal.  One of the reasons I am finally blogging about this was a conversation that happened at Thanksgiving.  A man at the table said he couldn't believe there was a man who was being accused of only gestures.  "I mean this is just too far," he said.  "He didn't even touch anyone."  I just sort of stared at him because I couldn't figure out how to respond.  Would he really be okay with it if his wife went to work, and a co-worker made lewd gestures at her?  I don't think so; I think he would want that man killed.  This applies to words as well.  I punish students for making "69" jokes, and I wouldn't want a co-worker making them either.  If we don't draw a line until there is physical contact, you are looking to create a very hostile work environment (and not just for women).

5.  Sexual harassment training is a stupid solution.  No one who is doing this would stop if they sat through a seminar.  They aren't ignorant; they are immoral.

6.  It's not all men.  It's not all women.  Not all men are guilty of harassment.  Some men are clumsy flirters; some are socially awkward.  Many men are professional and supportive of their female colleagues.  Most are just trying to live their lives.  It's not all men.  It's also not all women.  One of the problems I have had from the beginning of this discussion is the implication (and at times outright statement) that ALL women have experienced harassment.  It's simply not true.  There is no hashtag for #notme, and there won't be one, but maybe there should be.  Maybe some women should start sharing their stories of supportive men in their lives and show what right treatment looks like.  Too many women have experienced horrific treatment, but lumping all stories together is wrong.  Advancing the belief that all women have been victims of all men creates a predator v. prey environment.  I don't think anyone wants that. 

I don't know that I have put all of my thoughts into words very well, but I do think we can see that they won't fit into 280 characters.  If you are going to reflect well, yours won't either.

The Ministry of Normal

If your student has an emotional problem, relationship problem, or drug problem, I am probably not the teacher they talk to about it.  There's usually another teacher for that, the teacher who has students in their room during lunch or for hours after school.  It's not that I can't or won't listen.  I am open to discussing these issues with any student.  I am not, however, the teacher that they come to.  Instead, I have the ministry of normal.

When I have had difficulties, I often found solace in going to work, grading papers, and planning lessons.  Days off were often the hardest times because that was when I had too much time to think.  Doing normal things was the most comfortable (and, therefore, comforting) activity.  When you are having a difficult time in your personal life, one of the best things for you can be to have some part of your life where you don't think about that problem.  It reminds you that the issue does not encompass your entire life.

In my nineteen years of teaching, I have taught through gun threats, September 11, the death of former students, the heartbreak of unrequited love, the diagnoses of colleagues, and many other traumas for both students and myself.  During these times, I have, of course, acknowledged the problem and told my students that I am available to them for whatever they needed; but then I taught them the same lesson I would have on any other day.  I assigned homework (although I probably accepted it late from those who needed time to deal).  When I had a student who was crying so hard she couldn't breathe, I asked her to tell me about her pet snake.  Years after a shooter threat (during my second year teaching), several former students told me that they felt safest while they were in my class that day.  Many of their other teachers had cried through the day or talked to them about it the whole time.  I had gone in and said, "There is a plan.  I will tell you what it is if we need it." and then kept my eye on the windows and doors while I taught.  My students told me that they felt confident that I had a plan and that I was keeping an eye out but were glad they didn't have to be the ones to think about it.  (This is a little comical when I think about the fact that I was 23, and my 16-year-old students were putting their confidence in me.)

Helping a student through a moment of need doesn't always have to look like a counseling session.  Sometimes, it can just look like a regular day.

Communication - My Favorite Paradox

Teachers spend much of their time these days talking about innovation.  We attend workshops and conference that are specifically geared toward teaching kids to innovate.  We spend a lot of time talking about the jobs our students will face.  More specifically, we talk about how we don't know what kind of jobs our students will face, so we need to teach them to innovate in an ever-changing world.  We construct projects now that are less about content than they are about the process of engineering or research. 


We talk about these things so much that we forget most of the rest of the world is not having this conversation.  They don't sit down every Monday at work and discuss how their kids should engage in innovation-based learning.  We forget that when they see the new and amazing project assignment Johnny comes home with, they don't know what objectives we have in mind.  We forget that they weren't sitting at our desks with us when we created it.  They see something that doesn't look like anything they did when they were in school, and that is frightening because they don't know how to help with it.  Because this is 2017, they pick up their phone or laptop and send an e-mail to the teacher to question the project.

As teachers, we complain a lot about this type of parent communication.  It feels like a lack of trust, so we take it personally.  We feel like our professional judgment is being questioned,  but it is really only because we have forgotten to communicate our thinking to them.  We could eliminate MOST (not all) parent e-mails of this type if we remembered this simple paradox:

"The more e-mails I send, the fewer e-mails I get."


It sounds crazy, I know, but I promise that it works.  I've been doing this my entire career because I began teaching just as e-mail was becoming a tool for this type of communication.  I don't send home communication about every worksheet or lab we do, but I absolutely send emails about assignments that aren't like the ones we saw in school (or even like the ones we did just ten years ago).  When our juniors started using Twitter to have book chats about the literature they were reading, the teacher sent home a detailed description of how Twitter was chosen for this activity.  When our history teacher, English teacher, and I collaborated on Story Corp last year,  I sent an e-mail to our 8th-grade parents, explaining what Story Corp was and why were assigning it as a group and what each of us planned to do as a follow-up.  I got exactly three e-mails in response to this.  Two were questions about who their student could interview; one was concern that the person they were interviewing wouldn't want to be on the internet.  If I had not sent that e-mail and the student had come home, saying, "Mom, I have to interview Grandpa over Thanksgiving for English, History, and Science," I think all three of us would have gotten a lot of questions.

This goes beyond projects.  It is common for my 8th-grade students to tank their second test with me.  It is when the questions start requiring more analysis and less memorization.  Students who are accustomed to getting As in science often earn a C+ on that one.  Students who have typically gotten Cs without a lot of studying will find their grade below failing.  As you can imagine, this creates a stir at home that would flood my inbox if I weren't proactive about it.  After I have graded this test but before I enter the grades in RenWeb, I send an e-mail to all the parents of that grade.  I tell them that this is normal and why it happens.  I tell them not to panic yet because it takes time to adjust to this new skill.  I tell them that I do not give extra credit because that covers up the problem without solving it.  I have saved the text of this e-mail in a document so that all I have to do is copy, paste, and edit it.  The responses I get to this e-mail are usually thankful for the heads-up.  It is amazing how the number of e-mails changes as well as their tone. 

I know it seems like a paradox that putting some time into your e-mails will save you time on your e-mails, but if you try it, it will quickly become your favorite paradox.