Please Don't Dim the Lights.

Here is a picture from my classroom.

We have some electrical issues, so even though it was really nice of the people who built the school to put in dimmer switches, something funny happens if you dim.
It breaks the lights.
Really.
If you dim the lights EVEN ONE TIME, one or more bulbs will start flickering.
Sometimes they make a menacing buzzing sound.
No one has been able to fix or explain this phenomenon.
So, rather than keep wasting the time of the maintenance crew and wasting the money of the taxpayers of California, I duct-taped the lights so you can't dim them.
At first I used the old-fashioned duct tape.
Then I got the pretty kind, the kind that I wear as bracelets, because things that are useful as well as decorative are things I value highly.
People like dimming lights. It gives them a sense of control.
But when the lights you are dimming are the lights inside of people, that is wrong.
No one should try to control someone else's lights.
A lot of times people dim lights inadvertently, or because they think it's for someone else's good.
Like the parent who thinks taking art classes is stupid, because get that requirement out of the way and do something that "counts."
And I see how this kid, who can create things that make the angels weep, is really, really sad at registration and adds an extra science class.
Extra science classes are cool if they keep the lights on.
They are not cool if they dim the lights.
Or the counselor or teacher who tells a kid that she's "not college material."
What? WHAT?
My blood pressure goes up whenever I think about this, because I am thinking of a specific kid I had a long time ago who was, and is, one of the most singularly gifted human beings I have ever met, and an Adult in Authority said this to her.
It is a credit to this student that this reckless stupidity did not break her.
Dimmers are for light fixtures,not people.
I can duct-tape light switches.
I can't control stupid stuff that adults say.
I can try to fix the lights.
Wish me luck.

Open Wounds. Honorable Warriors. Joe Lunievcz.

Some days I look around at the world and I wonder where the honorable people are. You know, the ones that when you were in school your teacher would point to as role model types.
I remember memorizing Trenchant Insight Quotes from heroes and heroines like Eleanor Roosevelt.
I have a hard time finding famous role models for kids.
You can't even count on the dead presidents anymore. A lot of presidents have a lot of details in their lives that are better kept in soft focus.
George Washington's wooden teeth scared me witless when I was little.
Gandhi, Harriet Tubman, people like that are good. But even Gandhi had some habits the kids think are seriously weird. I get it.
It's hard to have heroic people who can hold up to the scrutiny that The Google provides.
You have your fictional role models.
Atticus Finch!
And then I encountered a veritable host of wonderful writers who also happen to be wonderful people.
This brings me to Open Wounds by Joe Lunievicz.
People. If you are an avid fan of language and story and The Human Journey with all of its darkness and light you need to read this book.
And if you love New York, you will fall in love all over again.
If you don't know anything about New York, you have a major-league crush coming your way.
Life, fencing, New York, honor, growing up. A man named Lefty.
I would quote from the book, but one of my students has it checked out right now.
This is a good thing.
As for Joe Lunievicz, I defy you to read these FAQ's and not think,"Holy tomato. This is a hero."
I don't cry. This is a character flaw. But I well up when I read about Joe Lunievicz, mostly because I am grateful for people like him and his art and his work.
I haven't met Joe Lunievicz face to face.
I hope I get a chance to shake his hand and buy him a good dram of whisky someday.
Based on what I know about Joe, he would be completely embarrassed by this post.
Joe, I am not trying to embarrass you.
People with open wounds--and that is most of the population--need to know that true lights exist and that living with wounds honorably and well is possible.
And we all need as many true lights in our lives as possible.
Joe Lunievicz is a true light.

Nicholas Nickleby. Nine hours. What the Dickens?

I saw the Royal Shakespeare Company television version of Nicholas Nickleby when I was in high school, and it was only the second time that seeing something made me want to read something. The first time was when I saw I, Claudius on Masterpiece Theater and then fell in love with the book.
The RSC version of Nicholas Nickleby, which I own on VHS, was this nine-hour visual and emotional journey that was a complete joy.
Nine hours.
It's Dickens!
It is a big commitment to watch nine hours of a play, but people now watch entire seasons of shows in one day just because they can.
You will be really happy if you watch Nicholas Nickleby.
About thirty-nine actors play one hundred and fifty roles.
It is a feast for the eyes, ears, and mind.
I usually feel dismay when I hear that a book is being made into a movie, but anxiety becomes assuaged when a really long version or a series is made instead.
Like George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones.
Or Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring.
Or the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth.
Or Sense and Sensibility, with Emma Thompson and *sigh* Alan Rickman.
These are pretty much the only adaptations I embrace with any kind of enthusiasm.
I did not like the Ents in the LotR movies, and I did not like that the entire Shire part got deleted, but no one consulted me.
And George R.R. Martin, dude, I could do without some of the brothel scenes that have been, um, added, and some of the new plot twists are a little startling.
Again, no one thought to call me.
I know. It's HBO.
But I want the story. The story. The story.
This is why books will always be better.

Manet. Changing the Map. "Particular and Rare Elements."

One of the best things I ever did was choose to be born to parents who are artists.
My dad is also a teacher. He is very good at it.
One of the other best things I ever did was take classes with him in college.
Art History classes.
I am crazy about Art History.
I inherited none of the Visual Art talent that is so abundant in my family, but, boy howdy, a girl can't have everything.
So one of the paintings I remember most is this one:

It is called "Dejeuner sur l'Herbe (Luncheon on the Grass) and it was painted by this guy, Edouard Manet.

People were very upset by this painting.
I remember my dad talking about it. He lectured with a glee and relish that was a joy to behold.
One of the things that pissed people off was, that if you were going to put naked people in a painting, they needed to be symbolic naked people, like goddesses and abstract nouns like Liberty and stuff.
And here's this naked lady LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU like, "What are you looking at?"
And the guys are wearing the FASHIONS OF THE DAY.
These were not gods and goddesses doing the god and goddess thing.
This was not Liberty Leading the People.
The other lady, she's just having herself I nice cooling-off in the water.
I liked that it looked like the women were doing what they wanted to do.
Be naked on the grass during a picnic? Get down with your bad self.
I love how painters work with brushes and light and how they arrange things.
Here is what Emile Zola said about this painting:
"It is, in short, this vast ensemble, full of atmosphere, this corner of nature rendered with a simplicity so just, all of this admirable page in which an artist has placed all the particular and rare elements which are in him."
I know I am reading a truly map-changing book when I see brushstrokes and light and color in what I am reading.
A lot of times the map changes while people are yelling about holding on to HOW THINGS SHOULD BE DONE.
People.
If you are lucky enough to be around when the map changes and you are witness to what people do with their particular and rare elements it is a wonder and a glory. So have a picnic and celebrate.

Lame and Lurpy.

A long long long time ago a superintendent of a school district came to guest-speak for an Education Class I had to take.
Here is one of the things he said.
"If I don't think your penmanship on the chalk board is up to snuff, then I'm going to have you come to the district office and practice until it measures up. We have high standards."
He talked about penmanship for a long time.
And then another time I was in a big meeting to try to help a kid and the school's psychologist drew a picture of a brain on the conference room board and circled a spot.
He wrote the word "amygdala" above the brain, and then launched into a description of what the amygdala does and why it is important and how it evolved.
His penmanship was beautiful.
These are examples of lame and lurpy thinking and behavior.
Lame and lurpy.
May we protect our kids from all that is lame and lurpy.
And may we avoid the lame and lurpy ourselves when we can.

Kerfuffled. And Then A Mothership Intervention.

Today at 7:01 a.m. I realized that someone done gave my brains a stir.
I didn't feel it at all.
You don't always feel it when your brains are stirred.
So I walk to my classroom and I am all prepared for my Thursday classes and I say to a student, "Happy Friday Eve!" because that is what we say on Thursdays.
And the kid tells me it's Wednesday.
I laughed.
No, really, he said.
Really? I was gobsmacked.
He came over and showed me his iPod and, sure as God made little apples, it's Wednesday.
Oh, I said. Mothership must have not synced me yet.
He laughed.
Whoopsy-daisy.
So later I am working on another grant to fund the Revolution, which, for those of you visiting for the A-Z Challenge, is about getting Good Books (which is what I think Young Adult Literature needs to be called) to all students and doing cool stuff with them.
I am doing a cost-benefits analysis and I think I stared at it for a really long time.
I was full of Existential Angst.
How much can I ask for to make sure that I get listened to?
At what point do I get to an Oliver Twist-like "May I have some more, please?" situation?
How come it is so hard to get stuff for students?
Where does lottery money go?
Did St. Augustine really steal those pears?
And then a little later, during class, a student came up and asked me a question.
"Has A.S. King written any more books?"
My brains became unstirred INSTANTLY.
"Yes," I said.
"I think I'm back to being addicted to books," he said.
"Were you un-addicted?"
"I just...I don't know. I ran out of books. And then I read the Ants book."
I tried not to go all sparkly on him, because that is alarming and startles the kids, so I just sparkled inside.
I got Please Ignore Vera Dietz for him.
And then I got some insanely good news via email about the Revolution.
I think A.S. King and The Sender of Awesome Revolution News emails have connections with the Mothership because the rest of the day went swimmingly.
I got Synced.

Judicious Use of Technology.

Technology without humanity=annihilation.
My classroom is a computer lab, and I teach kids software applications. It's pretty much pedal to the metal technology all the time.
Which is why they need to read.
I have parents ask me what technology they will need at home, and I tell them that I don't expect them to buy anything, because that would not be fair and I don't want the kids to work on their technology at home. An Applied Art is hands-on.
I only believe in one kind of homework.
Reading.
Kids need time without external stimulation especially after a day of being plugged in to music players and texting and school and sports and and and.
Focus in silence is becoming a Lost Skill.
So for half an hour several days a week I ask the kids to read and have that be the only thing going on.
This is a lot to ask.I have no idea if they are just reading or not. It's their home, their time, not mine.
Think about what is at stake, though.
Humans who can be quiet with their thoughts and stories and ideas and words and worlds and possibilities.
I worry about losing these humans.
A little balance can go a long way.
I need to believe this.

Industrial-Strength Industrialized Education.

It's almost Testing Season.
If you are a junior in high school, you have a plethora of tests to take.
ACT and SAT tests.
Advanced Placement Tests.
State Tests.
Oh, and there's also the California High School Exit Exam, which is written for seventh-and-eighth grade curriculum, but if you've failed it you need to take it again.
Kids also have benchmark exams that are district-wide.
I tell my ninth-graders to give the juniors cookies and speak softly and not to make swift, jerky movements around them at this time of year.
All of the kids hate this time of year.
Most of the teachers do, too.
Because if you haven't managed to get to Standard 406.b.1 because you actually slowed down to keep the kids with you, you are pretty much screwed, and so are the kids.
They get labeled "Below Basic," "Basic," "Proficient," or "Advanced" on the state tests.
Teachers get labeled, too, even if the kid has made enormous strides in the school year. It doesn't matter where the kid was at the beginning of the year, because they all need to be in the SAME PLACE AT THE SAME TIME by the time Testing Season rolls around.
I don't mind assessments. The ones I write show me what the kids get and what they don't get. We all benefit. I can adjust my teaching.
All of these tests make a lot of money for a lot of people.
And they get together and discuss tests and most of them have Studied Education but few of them are actually teachers. Real teachers who want what is best for kids.
And administering all of these tests looks good on paper.
Looking good on paper makes adults feel good.
I tell my students, Here is the Important Thing. I paraphrased this from To Kill a Mockingbird.
People of character do the best they can with what they have.
That's it. That is the Important Thing.
Do your best.
You are more than a piece of paper.
You are a human being with intrinsic dignity and you contain endless possibilities.
And maybe someday education will become something we do with kids, not to them.

Holy Tomato. Whoopsy-daisy. Adventures with Exclamations and Expletives in the Classroom.

Expressions of surprise and delight in a classroom are easy.
When unexpected things happen, though, you need to be prepared.
Once I was teaching a kindergarten class.
Kindergartners are cute and the call stuff as they see it.
At the time I had those acrylic nails.
I think I was possessed by a Secrets of Charm demon, because I have no idea why I thought this might be a good idea.
Back to kindergarten.
It was Story Time. If you value your life, you make sure that Story Time is conducted exactly the same way every day. Kindergartners are serious about their Story Time.
This is generally a good thing.
Teacher sits on the Story Time Stool. The kids sit on the carpet. Teacher reads.
I went to get the Story Time Stool and my (acrylic) nail slid under something.
Since I am not a patient person, I yanked.
A potent combination of physics and biology met in an Unholy Union and I ripped that nail from tip to nailbed.
A banner of choice words, some of them almost poetry and none of them appropriate for the classroom, blew by my mind's eye.
"Oh dear," I said. "Whoopsy-daisy."
I held my finger and went to get a tissue.
"Is teacher bleeding?" asked a tot.
"Holy tomato," I said. "Teacher is bleeding a little. It is okay."
I grabbed a handful of tissue and swathed my finger.
All of this engendered keen interest. Comments and advice poured out to me from the Story Time Carpet.
"Do you need a bandaid?"
"I have a bandaid. I hurt my knee."
"I have a bandaid, too."
"Mine is Spongebob." Attention diverts from me for a second. Spongebob bandaids were new then, and cool.
Nailbeds bleed impressively. I got a stack of paper towels and entombed my finger. It was a large and awkward digit-dressing.
I tried to discreetly wipe my eyes.
"Is teacher crying?" Horrified looks from the wee folk.
"Oh, no just watering a little,"I said. "My eyes do that when unexpected things happen."
Relieved looks from the Story Time Carpet.
I picked up a book--I have no memory of what the book was.
"Don't get blood on the book," said a boy.
"Aren't you going to sit on the Story Time Stool?" asked another.
They were worried.
"I'm going to sit on the carpet with you guys today," I said.
This break in protocol made them a little apprehensive.
"Sometimes doing unexpected things can be fun," I said.
I read the book with the precise diction and flow of expression that Story Time so richly deserved.
All was well.
And then it was time for recess.
We lined up and I set them free to run around and get milk and stuff.
I shut the door.
I kicked the Story Time Stool across the room.
I howled.
I rinsed my finger in cold water and went to the nurse.
"That looks like it hurts," she said.
I wanted to say something sarcastic and full of expletives. I bared my teeth and hoped it looked like a smile.
I didn't get a Spongebob bandaid, either.
And after school I went to the salon and had every one of those motherless (expletive deleted) Satan's (expletive deleted) tits removed.
Classroom Honor.
Maintained at (almost) any cost.

Gentling is Better Than Breaking. Dogs, Horses, Kids.

Horses, dogs, and teenagers are the creatures I spend most of my time with.
They have a lot in common.
There are three important questions you need to be able to answer when you are the one handling any creature or group of creatures.
1. Who is in charge?
2. What are we doing?
3. When do we eat?
These questions are entirely reasonable. If you can't answer them, things are going to get bad really fast.
Here are the answers:
1."I am in charge."
Please note that "being in charge" doesn't mean you get to yell, break stuff, bully,intimidate,or use force. It means that you know how to set reasonable guidelines for pleasant coexistence and help others to follow them.
2."We are doing (fill in the blank)." You need to know what you are doing in a very concrete way. You can't just say, "We'll see" or "Let's see how things develop" or "I don't know."
3. "We eat when it is time to eat. I promise that I will let you know. You will eat. There will always be enough food." And you had better make sure all of those statements are true.
Failure to answer any of these questions correctly will lead to getting bucked off a horse or have a dog pee on the rug forever or endless classroom battles.
I know these things from personal experience.
I'm a "learn by doing" sort of person.
This is not to discount spontaneity. I am all for being spontaneous. But you have to know your audience and your timing.
One of my dogs got broken.
He is a rescue.
He got thrown from a car when he was a puppy and was on Death Row when a wonderful organization rescued and repaired him.
Physically, anyway.
His name is Wilson, and he is, like all dogs, All About Love.
He gets nervous, though, and he will go after men in baseball hats and sunglasses and he throws up when I pack my suitcase.
I don't know if he will ever be whole, but I believe that love goes a long way. And he knows how I would answer those three questions.
I had a horse who was not broken. He was the horse of The War God's Horse Song, the horse of Alexander the Great, the horse of earth and fire and wind. His Wild was one of the best things about him, a spirit that was strong and true and merry.
Sometimes I was in such awe of him that I forgot to be in charge. My goodness, he was fast and sassy and letting him have his way, and sharing in the Wild, was some of the purest joy I ever expect to have.
Training is not the same as breaking.
And teenagers. It is easy to be vexed by kids.
If you are vexed, it is better to remember that, in any interaction, you are in charge. One person always has to be the adult, and it had better be you.
Be kind.
Remember what it was like to be young.
Let your eyes go soft and your shoulders down and speak with love.
And all creatures will thrive.