258/365

if you’re here to be a dutiful student
and jump through academic hoops
to get the right answers and chase grades
in order to be successful and play the part
and go to university to get a good job
and make good money
and do what your told and always follow the rules
and be afraid and timid to get things wrong
or to share your opinions, or to take a risk
or be your true self-
then you might be in the wrong place
and wasting our time.

we are in the business of miracles and magic.
we are discovering, unpacking and building
our identities. the thinking work we do in here
should follow you like a shadow everywhere you go.
these windows, mirrors and sliding glass doors
are your ticket to all the freedom you can imagine.

we are not concerned with you telling us what you
think we want to hear. we are concerned with depth,
complexity, independence, agency, safety, inclusion.
we are interested in justice and belonging.  
we are here for peace.

we are here to be our true selves. alone and together
to discover the joy and pain in the world and in our hearts,
to construct meaning together
and render ourselves vital in the service
of others.

sit up straight.
open your mind.
class is about to start.

252/365

they came in today
looking worn and
slightly broken- just after lunch
a thursday, fourth week
of a new school year. no real summer
holiday, not the kind they’re used to
traveling the world, visiting family
italy, lebanon, turkey.

they have the best
corn there, one girl told me last week.
i know. do they dip it in salt water like
they do in iran? we both smiled.
culturally responsive teaching
is mostly just asking questions and lisenting,

but back to the fatigued brigade today.
we were meant to learn about what makes a text
complex, so they could choose books for book clubs,
sweaty and distant eyes, there was no way
we could proceed. we’d set up protocols for
a democratised classroom, so i resisted the urge
to push through with my curricular agenda.

after acknowledging their mood, i asked
what do you want to do?
take a break, lay our heads down, play a game.
we chose a quick game of category splat,
had some laughs, found an inside joke
that made fun of my mistake and we were ready to go.
had a great class- they worked hard. selected their books
and we “got through it all.”

no one likes to be bulldozed
when they are exhausted.

237/365

how ya’ gonna be free?

talkin’ to kids

about: autonomy. and agency.

diversity. and equity.

inclusivity. and advocacy.

talkin’ to kids

about how ya’ gonna be free?

to thrive in this society.

how ya’ gonna

exercise ya’ rights

if ya’ don’t understand

which rights ya’ got?

position papers

and meetings.

discussions

and glossaries.

when all we gotta ask

the kids is

how ya’ gonna be free?

curriculum is power-

how ya’ gonna be free?

let’s map our identities-

how we gonna be free?

learned complacency-

how ya’ gonna be free?

education needs to be a path

to freedom and not much else.

235/365

there is a pact that needs to be made from the start
this enigmatic work is part art. part science.
there’s no room for barging in and demanding compliance.

perhaps like the prisoners who are freed from the cave
and come to understand that the shadows on the wall
are actually not reality at all. the aim is to understand
and perceive higher levels of reality. however, the other inmates
of the cave do not even desire to leave their prison, for they know
no better life.

“it no longer works,” teachers cry at professional development meetings
and graduate level courses. how many years will they cry about
the brutal force of the industrial model of education
and yearn to free their students, only to succumb to another
college prep year, forcing kids through the meet grinder of curriculum.

i could only dream on my own time, the quite girl sitting in the back
scribbles on her arm, the bottoms of her shoes, anywhere she’ll leave a mark.
her mind a drift on a boat on a still lake, every breath a ripple,
bird songs quieting for the night, the black contrast and shadows
are the ink into which she will disappear.

people make little sense to her
and this campus
too loud.
too demanding
of her tender wishes.

her teachers’ best attempts feel like nothing
more than carefully scripted lies. how can they
really care about her, when they are blinded by their agendas
and can never have the capacity to know her?

like guy montage hiding his letters,
she keeps her knowledge safe from their flames.
“come,” an empty future calls to her in the stillness
away from their incessant pressure.  

the number of steps are infinite.
her thoughts knotted into figure eights.
this enigmatic work is part art. part science.
part something else all together.

229/365

earning respect by knowing your shit
and being good at what you do is easy,
doing it by admitting you are lost and confused
and unsure is more complex.

the books say that vulnerability is en vogue
and we should embrace leading with doubt:

everywhere i go to get away from myself
i end up right where i started. a roller coaster
of self-loathing and over confidence. lazy empty
attempts at growth and evolution mired
in the predictable pit of regression.

not sure how it’s being done-
this leading day-to-day,
but there is crafts(persons)ship in education
like everything else. even after twenty plus
years, honing our craft and practicing new skills.

authenticity may not always appear to be
the pukka thing to do, but should be applauded
when recognised and strived for in practice.

180/365

missons
visions
and values.

principles:
learning
plus
well-being.

profiles.
skills.
qualities.
virtues.
dispostions.

learning:
experiential.
interdisciplinary.
inquiry based.
concept based.

understandings.
competencies.
diversity.
equity.
inclusion.
justice.
peace building.
sustainability.

what does it say
about human beings
that we need this
much education
just to learn how
not to be assholes?

179/365

the intensity
with which
so many brilliant people,
worldwide, educators
everyone one off them,
work to improve teaching
and learning for so many kids
across so many schools,
on every continent
is admirable and full of hope,
until you look around,
passed the mission statements,
visions and school values
and realise how little
we understand children, each other
or the world we’re trying to create.
who knew that peace and justice
would need this much work?

11/365

I learned about manufactured consent by reading Noam Chomsky;
Naomi Klein taught me about corporate globalization and capitalism;
Reading Abbie Hoffman illuminated theater and social activism;
Eugene Debbs taught me socialism;
Bertrand Russell philosophy;

Reading about Che and Ho Chi Min and Ghandi
taught me about revolution and resistance;
Harvey Milk and Allen Ginsberg unraveled queer power,
Edward Said introduced me to Orientalism

Better understood the American War in Vietnam through
Bao Ninh and Jonathan Neale;
Stephen Kinzer and the coup in Iran;
Unpacked empire with Arundhati Roy;

Howard Zinn taught me how to be American;
Thich Nhat Hanh how to search for peace;
bell hooks and Kate Manne- feminism
Mumia Abu-Jamal and Malcom X- race;

Books on movies, TV shows, bands and food;
Books on religion, drugs and evolution;
Books on heroes and villains,
Crime and justice
Education and running.

And that’s all just
a fraction of the non-fiction shelf.

Never let an uneducated unread person
vilify your literacy.

There is no education more valuable
than the one you can find on your own
in the pages of a book.

The world is not complete
until you’ve read around it.

a school is a universe

To walk the grounds of a school
with the bureaucracy pulled away
is to enter multiple universes.

Beyond reports and meetings
and trappings of frustration
children create and analyse art,
find ways to reveal meaning in their lives
through fiction,
pass a ball and learn to dodge opponents,
explore their way through processes and cycles,
unpack concepts, ask questions,
perform concrete and plays,
solve problems, equations, and disputes with friends.

To walk the grounds of a school
is to enter multiple universes.

I see a baby bird banging against a wall
near the fifth floor hallway.
I try to corral it
but it hops away from me
flapping it wings frantically
panting desperately.

It’s tiny beak
breathlessly
open.

Tired.
Exhausted.
Over burdened.
Distrustful.

It continues to hop away
as I approached.

I want to catch it,
cup it gently
in my palms and carry it down stairs.

Now it’s near the edge of a ledge.
I wonder if it can fly,
maybe I should just leave it alone?

I take one final step
it leaps,
floating down
five stories
like a leaf
with a heart.

A few flaps and it is on the ground.
hard to tell if it is better off,
or if I helped

a school
is a universe.

Playing With Trolls

I’ve been playing with trolls lately, not the the really nasty aggressive, could be a Russian dude getting paid to mess with our democracy, or the I-only-read-Breitbart News-and-have-a-pepe- avatar variety, but the kind that might be a dad’s cousin of a friend who shows up in my friend’s Facebook feed saying something outlandish and rude- hackneyed talking points they heard on Fox News or read on some thread somewhere else.


As an experiment I have been trying to engage with these strangers in a calm, racial, open-minded way. It has been difficult not being snarky or straight up mean, my natural tendency is to insult and demean, but I have made it a point to ignore my base instincts and try to act more civil.


This process has me thinking about a few basic rules that might allow us to have more tolerant social media spaces. Spaces that might lead to more dialogue and less anger. More understanding and less yelling. More listening and less blind opinions.

1. Don’t engage with a stranger without building some context of who you are. You would never just approach a total stranger in the street in real life and start yelling your opinions at them. So if you find a random person on a feed who is saying some thing you disagree with do not simply attack that person’s ideas, no matter how off-putting or rude they may be. Introduce yourself first. Perhaps the person will feel a slight hesitation before the conversation suddenly becomes a volley of insults. 
2. Start by giving in a bit. Admit to something that you might have gotten wrong. Show some empathy and give-in a little to a point that they are making that you might agree with, or at least understand. People are much less likely to insult you or your ideas if you have shown a bit of vulnerability. 
3. Stick to the points of the content that has been shared. Try to move beyond their simplicity insults and barbs- try to get back to what it is about the content that they find objectionable. Ask them questions. Lots of questions. “If you don’t think that women should have the right to express their fear and anger in art, how do you think they should speak up in society?” “If you don’t feel that silent protest is appropriate during the national anthem, how do you think black Americans should show their frustration with the system? How do you define racism?” Try to make the person think about what they value and how they think, so they spend less time hurling cliches and one liners at you. 

This work is difficult and perhaps pointless. After all why would we want to try and change the mind of so-and-so’s dad’s cousin? Who has time for this?


I guess I see this as teaching. If we want our students to learn how to be empowered and kind and take ownership of these online spaces, then we have to be role-models even when we are angry and the work feels difficult and impossible. We need to act with grace and dignity in the most absurd conversations.


Be yourself. Be vulnerable. Ask questions. Get people to think about what they value, why they are angry?


You have to resists the urge to be petty. That is what they want. Most of these people have not thought about what you want them to think about. Yes it is true that if they are true trolls, all bets are off an none of this matters, but if they are simple angry and ignorant and afraid, then you might be able to help them re-think what they think about privilege, or race, or class or TrumpII. You might be able to educate some people and be the shinning light in at least one Facebook thread.


Am I being naive and idealistic? Probably. I don’t think I have another choice. Below are a few examples of what I am talking about.


I was involved in a conversation about the meaning of white male privilege:


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I'm not saying this to be confrontational, I can appreciate your account of your modest middle class life. And I know many people who have had similar experiences and because your life does not look like the glamours celebrity lives we see in the media, you do not see it as a privilege.


You worked hard and never asked for anything and you made do with what you had and that wasn't much, and so how can that be privilege.


But just being white in America and male in America and middle class in America is a privilege many people don't have. You don't see it, because you have not had to experience or ever exposed yourself to what other American realities might look like. Take a look at some novels by James Baldwin or listen to some music by Dead Prez or watch a film called The 13th.....it might give you some insights in the privilege that you do have.


I appreciate the time you took the time to watch the video, but I think you are missing a key point- privilege is not an all or none game. It is not as if you have it or you don't, privilege works on a continuum. We all have certain privileges for various reason over others, it doesn't mean we are better or worse, or that we worked harder than other or not, it's simply the hand we were dealt.


Sure, some people waste their privilege while others make do even without having it, but that doesn't negate the fact that they have certain privileges to start with.


The fact that you were born a white male from a working class family doesn't take away from your successes, but you had certain privileges that say a gay Puerto Rican man born in the Bronx didn't have. (Like not being beaten up for his sexuality) Or a single woman born in Flint, Michigan, (Clean water)


It is not a comparison- we have all ad obstacles we need to over come, but we all have certain privileges and recognizes those, allows us to be more empathetic to marginalized members of our society.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


After some back and forth, this person said.


“Ok, I see your point. I've generally always associated being privileged with being given virtually everything on a silver platter, which the majority of folk in the world are not. Others work very hard to earn at least some of those privileges. I've just never considered myself privileged, simply because nothing has ever been given to me without hard work.”


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Small victory but I’ll take it.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Here is another one. The original post was about an art project where a 19 year old woman wrote sexist Trump quotes over naked female bodies.


This person replied with, “ This is why our young are total dumb asses!! Is that allowed in their safe places….”


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


My response:


Hello everyone, I have been watching this thread with mild amusement for a while and now felt the need to add my two cents.


I don't you know you or your connection with XXXX and XXXXX, but I have known them for years and consider them good friends. I bring this up because it gets tricky interacting in these social media spaces, when we know so little about each other. You could be some random relative of Kim's (although by your tone I doubt it) or some random person who popped in on her public post. Either way, I think it is civil and necessary that before we offer our opinions or insults on any give topic that we are polite and introduce ourselves.


I am a 42 year old father of two girls and an international teacher of 15+ years. I am a self professed liberal and believe in progressive politics. I fight for peace, justice and love. These are ideals I value, and I have spent my life working toward spreading awareness in this field. It is why I became an educator.


I hope that adds some context about why this post in particular matters to me. Remember the post! The one about how a nineteen year old young women who felt threaten by Trump’s misogynistic language decided to use art as a vehicle to express her anger and fear, to which you replied by saying, “This is why our young are total dumb asses!! Is that allowed in their safe places….”


You later mentioned, in a mocking sort of way, how peoples' feelings might be hurt, to which I want to say yes my feelings are hurt. I assume you are using this tone as a way to bolster your own potentially fragile make ego, or maybe you are just trolling and being a dick, hard to tell these days, but the fact of the matter is that my feelings are hurt, when I think that my daughters are growing up into a world where their worth is evaluated by their looks and their bodies.


I did not see this art project as an example of why young people are “total dumb asses.”


More importantly, I am not sure why you felt the need to leave the comment you left on this particular post and then turn the thread into a playground argument worthy of elementary school kids.


Going back to the original content, I am curious do you agree with the statements made my Trump about women? Are you a father? Do you have a wife? Mother? Sister? Would like them to have an outlet for their frustrations? Have you ever asked them what it feels like to be a woman living in an aggressively patriarchal work?


I think asking each other questions is a better way to use these spaces and our time.


You can insult me back, and that would be understandably predictable and cliche, or you can take some time to actually engage with the world in a way that helps us come to a better understanding of each others lives.


Please note that I did my best not to insult you or use any kind of “trolling” behavior. I did look up conservatism and it is defined as, “social philosophy that promotes retaining traditional social institutions in the context of culture and civilization.”


So what traditions do you value that you feel warrant maintaining, in particular in the area of women’s rights, seeing that is what the original post was about.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


In that same thread, another person wrote, “Where were all you people when good 'old Bill was sticking a cigar into Monica in the bathroom off the Oval Office?”


To which I replied:


I was twenty two years old and trying to find myself. I was disinterested in politics at the time and worried about how I might make rent or have enough money to buy beer. I worked a few jobs waiting tables whilst going to school.


I think if that happened now and I was an adult, I would be looking to feminist news sources I trust to look for guidance about how I might think about this issue.


I would explore ideas around consent and control, power and patriarchy. I would not be partisan enough to excuse behavior of someone simply because of their party affiliation.


I am not sure however, how your comment about Clinton, is relevant to the story Kim posted. I assume you are implying that "you people." (Liberals?) only care when republicans do things wrong.


I am here to say that is not true at least for me.


So back to the post, since you are obviously a champion of women's rights, based on your defense of Monica Lewinsky, how are you helping to empower women in the age of Trump?


Neither one of them have yet to respond.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Let me know if you have a troll in your thread that could use a lesson. I can do house calls.

Full Speed In The Scorching Sun

I was pretty angry twenty minutes ago. I don’t get angry very often, and twenty minutes ago, I wasn’t angry per se, just annoyed and frustrated to the point of acute irritability. I was pissed.


Paypal was the source of my prickliness. I was trying to pay for something that would only take Paypal and for a variety of reasons it wouldn’t work. Wrong email for the wrong card. Forgotten password. Wouldn’t send a password retrieval form. I really wanted to pay for this thing and the website would not work and I became angry. Seems silly when you spell it out like that.


I kept yelling, “What the hell!” to no one in particular, but since Mairin was the only one within ear-shot, I guess I was hoping she might be able to fix it. I tried a million different things: different emails, a new card, trying to pay outside of Paypal, but nothing worked. I was about to give up when twenty minutes later- Twenty minutes (it might have been less and I exaggerated the time in my state of rage) I finally got a password reset email and voila it was all fixed and paid for.


And after my grumpiness dissipated, I was left with the shameful sense one feels when they have been quick to anger. “Really?” We ask ourselves, “You were that worked up because a website didn’t work exactly right immediately? That is how petty you have become?”


So what was I paying for you might ask? I just registered for the OSIM Sundowner Half Marathon.


Go big or go home. Although I have never actually run more than 12km, I am going to give this 21km a try. There is another half-marathon next December in Cambodia that I want to run, but that seemed so far away and another 10km at this time didn’t feel satisfying enough. So the logic is- I will test this one out and get a baseline time. See if I can even do it. I figure I will run 10km hard, try to push myself to about 15km and walk the rest if I have to, just to see what it feels like. Then I will train from now until December to run the Cambodia race full on.


Having said that I still have a month to get ready for this run as well. I am pretty excited and the very idea of it is motivating me to get out there and run hard. Thanks for pushing me Jeff.

…

I’m a big fan of the hand written thank you note and compliment. I never give them, mind you, but I love getting them. Yes, I see the idiocy in that statement, and I hope to build a habit where I thank and compliment people using hand written notes, but in the meantime I will bask in their greatness when directed at me.


I entered my classroom today to find a small card on my desk from a peer at school who mentioned that they appreciate my passion and hard work. It was short and sweet and perfect. In our everyday busy lives a simple compliment can go such a long way.


I really want to work on writing notes like this more often. I hope to write them to my own kids, Mairin, my students, and of course my peers. I need to get my hands on some nice cards in preparation.

…

I was walking across Tent Plaza after I had eaten lunch today, on my way to the stairs for some down time in my room before class started, when I noticed three grade eight girls running full speed in the scorching sun. They were playing tag. I am not sure what it was about seeing grade 8 girls playing tag- it might have been their obliviousness to the heat or their sweat or what others might think, or I might have been moved by the fact that they were free and childlike and beautiful as they did what they wanted, unconcerned with the normal BS that a grade 8 girl must surely go through on a daily basis. They were smiling, laughing, and shrieking with joy. For those of you who work with or have worked with grade 8 girls, I can assure this is not “normal” behaviour, but I so wish it was.

…

In the last few days, I have had two groups of fifth graders come see me because they are working on Gender Equality and Education projects for their grade five exhibitions. They ask me questions about Daraja Academy and the work we do as a GC and the work they do as an NGO and school. I have been blown away by their focus, integrity and curiosity. My interaction has had a series of effects:


I am looking forward to working with this age group. They are so earnest and eager and ready to please. Comes as a nice relief after years of dealing with grade 8 cynicism and fatigue.


Reminds me that our grade 6’s are full of ideas, knowledge and excitement. Sometimes I tend to think that they are just babies coming in blank, and this is clearly not the case. I need to speak with the primary school teachers more often and thank them for their work. Also, I hope that the grade 9 teachers realise that are upcoming grade 8’s are also doing amazing things and that they are not starting from scratch.  A K-12 school is an ongoing body of work. We are all involved and do our part.


Reminded me of the power of inquiry and unshackling kids from content and curriculum. Why do we not have an end of grade 8 exhibition? Another one at grade 10 and a final one at grade 12?


Anyway, my interaction with these young learners was eye-opening and inspiring. It is always a good idea for teachers to interact with other parts of the school. We get so involved with our own work that we forget or take for granted what other people are doing.

School Are Amazing Places

“Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realize you’re already in heaven now.”
Jack Kerouac


School are amazing places. You wanna know why? Because they are filled with kids. And people who love kids and want to give them awe-inspiring experiences. Schools are places where teachers create rock shows and magazine launches. Schools are places where kids can be athletes and scientists. Schools can be places where kids are challenged to question and research and explore and wonder. Schools are places where kids dance and plant trees and hike and run meetings. Schools are places where kids build friendships, identies and 3-D printed design projects.


It’s where they write poetry, solve equations and fall in love for the first time. School is where kids find themselves one year, only to lose themselves a year later. School is where kids find confidence and take risks. It is where they test out their jokes and command a stage for the first time. A school is a place where they can leave the orbit of their parents for a few hours a day and see which other galaxies they might find themselves in. Schools are places where kids skin their knees, break their bones and learn to get back up. It’s the place where kids have to learn to fight back or to resolve conflicts between friends. Schools are where kids learn how to socialise around a meal or to eat alone. Schools are places where kids shred a guitar solo or forget the lyrics of the third verse. Schools are places where kids roam the halls looking for friends. It’s where they stand up to bullies, learn to talk to adults to demand their rights. Schools teach kids how to be activists, citizens and free-thinkers.


Schools are the most beautiful and important places in our societies. I am here tonight to challenge the narrative that schools are broken.


I am tired of constantly starting every conversation about how schools are places in need of drastic change, disruption or re-imagining.


(Before I continue, I want to acknowledge that I realise that I am blessed to work in a well-resourced school. I work at a top internationals school, where we are wanting for little. I want to be sensitive to people who might be reading this post who work in schools that are structurally damaged and morale vacant buildings. I have worked in such schools and I know it is hard to do your job in such environments.)


But even in such places, I refuse to continue to start every conversation about school that highlights the conceptual idea of school as a place of deficit. I’ve heard all the complaints. Hell, I have lobbed many of them myself: The curriculum is too intense, too much content, too many skills, too many tests, not student-driven enough, not enough tech, too much tech.


When we spread the narrative that schools are inherently broken we discredit and disrespect the two most important things that make-up schools: Kids and teachers.


I have spent the majority of my life in schools. And for all their faults, I still think they are amazing places. I still remember the rainy day afternoons in Mozambique waiting for the rain to stop so we could carry on because the floor had flooded for lack of windows. The fact that kids didn’t have shoes or books or pencils didn’t bother us none. The fact that I barely knew what I was doing didn’t seem to matter either. We were looking at the lyrics of Africa Unite by Bob Marley as a way to learn English. We laughed and smiled and built something unnameable. It was fueled by wonder and love.


All you need to run a school are kids and teachers who love kids and want to create awe-inspiring experiences for everyone on campus.


Tonight I was at Sound Asylum which is or annual MS rock show run by the music department ( Lee, Lindsey and Evind) in a constant state of goose-pimpled skin. I watched two hours of talented kids be rock stars. The team created an opportunity for these kids to stand on stage behind the lights and the smoke and in front of their peers and live out a dream. This is what a school is all about. Everything else is administration and bureaucracy.


It is not fair to kids if their teachers are constantly focused on looking at the problems of their school. We owe them more. Take a look at your school and ask yourself how you can create opportunities born from your love and passion- opportunities for your students to be inspired. If your curriculum has you down, or if you are buried under mandates of which you have no control, find other ways to build a culture of wonder in your school. A poetry reading, a basket ball league, a hands on science club, a coding team, a rock show, a magazine launch, a place to knit, plant a garden.


We don’t always need to focus on how to re-build our schools. Let’s change the conversations and focus on the fact that schools are by default great places because they are filled with kids. Everything else must grow from that understanding.

People Care So Much

Some nights writing these posts is hard. It could be that I have processed too many thought. Or not enough happened in the day. Or I might be too tired or slightly drunk. Or maybe I just don’t want to write, but when you make some thing a habit, a routine, a rule, you have no choice, but to suck up it up and write the words.


Tonight my excuses is that I processed too much information. I am tired and I am slightly buzzed. Just got back from a lovely meal of organic vegan food. I didn’t even suggest the place, but that was the vibe that the crew wanted, and this is a good thing. Had a few drinks before we went and some lovely micro-brews with dinner. We chatted about how to teach kids and save the world and how to be better at our jobs and how to be better people. We spoke about sustainability and Monsanto and Tyson meats and class and problems and solutions.


It is so cool to think how many people care so much to do the work we do. I am so proud to have dedicated my life to education and while sometimes it gets me down, it feels great to talk and share and fail and succeed.


Back in my room, I am listening to Sufjan Stevens and contemplating what is better- just turning out the lights and sleeping or watching Room.


My session went well today. Thanks for asking. I had about 14 people there and they were excited and engaged and asking all the right questions about the power of deliberately designed learning spaces. The rest of the day was useful and provocative.


I am so excited about my new head of grade role. And now that I have stepped even one tiny step away from my immediate teaching role, now that I have seen how many moving parts there are, I am starting to think that maybe I do have some interest in administration and leadership on a larger scale in the future. Now sure what that means or what that could look like. Let’s see how next year goes, but maybe there is some bigger leadership roles in my future.

...

The excitement of travel and solitude in hotel rooms is slowly being replaced by fatigue and missing my family. Can’t wait to see them in a few days.

…

Not everyday can be some profound epiphany. Today was well spent. I learned a lot. I thought a lot. I taught. I learned. I ate. I drank. I shared and received. Maybe these are the days that matter when we add them all up.


Random observations- The service industry in Manilla is amazing, So nice and warm and accommodating. Singaporeans should come here and take some hospitality courses.
The reaches of globalisation and American imperialism in the Philippines are both familiar and comforting, but at times nauseating.


That is all.

Precious Spots

The rain started as soon as we were ready to begin. The small room off the hotel courtyard turned dark and uninviting, but everyone agreed that the rain was a good omen. I was sitting with the administrative staff of Daraja about to start a round of student section interviews. There were thirteen girls and their families waiting to be interviewed for a chance to change their lives.

It felt daunting to be part of such a process. I felt honoured and humbled to be present, but also a bit guilty. What gave me the right to choose who gets in and who has to find another way to build a future.

The girls were fourteen most of them and they were all scared and nervous. But they reacted to this fear in different ways. One was painful shy and quiet, her voice inaudible over the sound of the rain. I knew from talking with Jason that a “Daraja” girl showed confidence and signs of leadership before she even walked onto the campus. This girl, we all knew from the opening few moments didn’t have much of a chance. How could she when there were hundreds, thousands of girls through Kenya vying for the few precious spots.

The next one was loud and full of smiles, but broke down in tears when she spoke of her father leaving the family and how her mother could only find “casual” work digging on other people’s farms. When asked what it means to be a leader she said, “A leader serves other people and allows them to be the people they are meant to be.” I liked her a lot, but there would still need to be stiff conversation about what she was more deserving than the other eleven girls waiting outside.

I thought a lot of the cycle of poverty and the state of the “developing” world. I thought about how a man could have a family and abandon them to fend for themselves in a society he knew does not value women. I thought about how angry I often am at injustice, but also at my own hypocritical self-righteousness. Who am I to judge these men? What do I knew of their own fears and damage?

I was due back at Daraja to meet up with my students, so I left the rest of the interviews for the rest of the team.

…

So bummed I had two more entries on this post, but they didn't get saved and the document I was working on shut down.

We are off to Safari, so the next entry may be delayed. 

Two Minutes Passed Midnight

It’s two minutes passed midnight and I am in the Bangkok airport, feeling obligated to keep this writing thing going at all costs. I’m sitting here waiting to board our Kenyan Airways flight to Nairobi with a group of kids who range from third to twelfth grade and are from seven different countries. It is passed their bed times and they are passed out in different degrees around me, as the fluorescent light keeps me wired and a bit crazy.

I will wake in the morning after a long flight on the ground in Kenya. Back for my fourth trip. The sounds, the smells, the sights of Africa are only a plane ride away. But most importantly the pace will crawl up to me and force me to slow down to the speed of a well-spent day.

My brain is tired from a long day, week, month, year, life. But it is moments like this that help me realise how all the choices I have made up to this point allow me to take trips like this.

Years ago, Jason and I talked of hopes and dreams and schools in Africa. Not everything turned out the way we planned, but life rarely follows our intentions. Yet, somehow, here we are at forty-two years old- tomorrow night I look forward to sitting up on his porch after all the kids have fallen asleep, and we will hatch future plans and dream up new schemes.

I can’t wait to see what it all looks like at sixty-two.

That’s all I have tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow’s post will have more to say.

Crazy Dreams

I woke up from a crazy dream. We were on the run. Kaia and I. I had managed to hide us away in my in-laws house somewhere in rural Wisconsin. It wasn’t their real house as they live in Milwaukee, but you know how notions get blurred in dreams. We had just out run the vigilante Mormon mob. Yup, they were angry Mormon teens trying to take Kaia away from me because of my heretical views and non-christian parenting philosophy.

We were in the house. Shades drawn. Door locked. I was about to dial 911 for help, when I realised that the phone line was cut and they were about to break the window, when…..I woke up.

It was dark. 5:45am and I was terrified that they would catch us and take Kaia away from me. The fear was more real then any fear I have felt whilst awake in years. My heart was beating and I was convinced I would never see Kaia again, and just the thought of that was terrifying.

So the rest of the day was downhill from there.

...

At lunch we had a Daraja meeting. Every Thursday, I meet with twelve girls from 6-8th grade and two boys to discuss what it means to me a global concern group. We learn how to run meetings, set agendas, plan fundraiser, raise awareness etc…The first term we did a lot of administrative work and I wanted this meeting, the first of the new year, to be more philosophical and to sow the seeds for an upcoming awareness raising campaign about gender equality.

We had a great conversation about taking back the word Feminism.

But first we had to understand the term. I asked how many of them knew what that word meant and none of them raised their hands. Zero. So we had a chat about how Feminism is the belief that men and women are equal. We talked about patriarchy, another term they had never heard, and then we watched two videos- Things That Girls Hear that men do not and Things That Boys and Men Hear that are bad for everyone.

We talked about how Feminism is not a dirty or aggressive word for radicals, but a word that will help both men and women free themselves from the patriarchal power structures that we live under. It was powerful and intense.

It made me love my job and the choices I have made. We are now brainstorming a campaign that will help educate our school population on the word feminism and thinking about making our own video using terms that boys and girls hear that offend their gender sensibilities.

It was a good meeting. They are an amazing group of young people.

...

We continued the conversation at dinner and Kaia said, “What’s the big deal I am a feminist and I hate Barbie.”

Which was funny at first, but then made me think how strange it is when children mimic their parents’ political beliefs. I know I did it as a kid. You could find eleven year old me railing against the evils of capitalism at the playground, after an intense political discussion night with my dad and his friends.

But don’t we frown on that behaviour when we see the children of people with our opposing beliefs do the same. I know I alway grimace when I hear really young children talk about the bible.

Our conversation has me thinking about the difference between indoctrination and education. How balanced of a story do we give our kids as parents? As teachers?  I didn’t come to any conclusions, as it was only a few hour ago. Something to mull over.

...

We got a Mega Boom speaker today which is great. We haven’t had a household stereo system for ever. So now, we can blast some music throughout the day. I’m pretty excited about that.

...

Lesson Learned:

• Don’t piss off the Mormons. 
• Dreams produce fear induced adrenaline. 
• Don’t take for granted what the kids you teach know or don’t know.
• Be careful not to indoctrinate your children with your beliefs no matter how right or just they feel.  

...

1. What is the craziest dream you have had lately? 
2. What’s a lesson you think young people learn these days? 
3. What are some values and beliefs you want your kids to understand? 
4. Thoughts in the education verses indoctrination debate. 

Master Of His Own Destiny

Woke up this morning, first thing, to a comment from a cousin of a Facebook friend that made me reconsider my open public Facebook policy, in it’s sheer ignorance and biased view. It was so fundamentally false- the argument was so misguided, illogical, and simplistic that my first reaction was to ignore it and chalk it up to bi-partisan mudslinging.

The ideas of a stranger had somehow leaked into my feed, but that didn’t mean I had to engage. It was 5:50 in the morning, why did I need to explain to a stranger that Donald Trump’s ad about banning Muslims from the USA  was not okay, especially when he was saying things like, “And there is a law on the books that states that anyone that is a member of any organization that is contrary to the beliefs of the USA - freedom - can be banned from entering this country.”

But then I thought about it all morning. I didn’t want to be thinking about retorts and rebuttals, but my brain had caught fire and I couldn’t seem to find a way to put it out.

Because if I had a student who thought so simplistically, a student who argued so illogically, a student who felt so callously, a student who lived with such little understanding of the world and such lack of empathy, I would do everything I could to teach that student. For better to for worse this is the curse of the educator, we want to teach everyone we come across- even the random cousin of a Facebook friend we will never meet.

Our first reaction might be to label people who disagree with us as right-wing fanatics, or ignorant (fill in the blank), but if we get into the habit of doing that, then how are we different from the people who see liberals as some false stereo-type. At the end of the day we need to see people, who’s views are different to our way of thinking, as people who we need to engage with.

Anyway, as I was thinking all these thoughts my friend Bryan​ came in and saved the day, with one of the best rebuttals I have read in a while. It was clear, coherent, logical and dead-on. So I was saved from having to do my civic duty, which made me think how important it is that we work together to help educate the internet. No small feat, I know. But everytime someone spouts inaccurate information it is our collective civil duty to say something.

...

In school this happened during break before class. Two students came running into the classroom with their copies of Into The Wild and the following conversation took place:

“But why would he change his name?”
“Because that part of his life was dying?”
“But what does changing your name do?”
“His name symbolized everything he hated about the overly commercialized life he was forced to live by his parents and society. He needed to break free from that, so he needed a new name. See look it says it here on this page (pulls out book) ““no longer would he answer to Chris McCandless; he was now Alexander Supertramp, master of his own destiny” (He then waved the book around and sang, Master of his own Destiny a few times)
“Yeah, I get it. That must also be why he turned down the gift of the car from his parents. He didn't want what they were offering. He needed something else.”

...

Time hop reminded me that I began my experiment being vegan three years ago today. I feel pretty good. I love the line that Brighde​ once told me, “I am vegan 100% of the time, but I am successful 90% of the times."

Yes I cheat occasionally with the weirdest things- Krispie Kreme donuts and muffins at Starbucks, but for the most part I have been pretty good. The very thought of eggs, cheese or milk, makes me sick. Those damn baked goods, still haunt me.

...

I watched Obama’s speech on guns and cried at the end. I respect him more and more. He’s just a cool dude trying his damn best.

Sometimes I feel guilty for being too tired to properly spend time with my kids during the week. Are we just wasting their childhood and setting them up for the rat race?

There is a new salad bar at school that I am excited about trying tomorrow.

I have a girl in my class who is going through a hard time with a parent’s divorce and I complimented her on her writing today and she was so grateful that she was beaming. It made me very happy to be able to make her happy so easily.

...

Lessons Learned:

• Politics are messy and engaging with people is tough but necessary. 
• Kids get excited if you are excited. 
• Compliments are so easy to give and do so much good. I should give them more often to everyone in my life. 

...

1. What’s a political argument you rarely back away from? 
2. Describe an exchange you witness that made you happy. 
3. Tell us about a compliment that you gave that made someone’s day or one that you received. 

hunting: in excessive ways

I was getting ready to go to bed, when I came across this article: War On Words: NYC Dept. Of Education Wants 50 ‘Forbidden’ Words Banned From Standardized Tests. After making certain that it was not an Onion article, I felt compelled to write a poem using every single word. 

I have worked within the NYC Department of Education, and let me tell you-- these words are NOT the problem. As a matter of fact, let me suggest that NYC scrap the standardized tests that are apparently offending so many students and create a curriculum that looks closely at every single word on this list and the ideas they represent. My anger at this list is only curtailed by my utter disgust and sadness about the state of American education. 

Here is a poem to get you started:

hunting: in excessive ways

i am sixteen
and obsessed with television
always have been
in excessive ways:
in can't leave my house ways
in raised by it ways
in shaped my world view ways
in it's the base of culture ways

celebrities, rap music, video games and pornography too
we go to Jason's house cuz he has the pool you see
tv says that's good--
pools.

here we watch tv and play john madden football
in excessive ways
in ignoring the fact that at all our parents are considering divorce ways.

we drink and deal with serious issues:
we discuss
politics and poverty
i think i may be a communist.
gabe is certain.

we don't smoke cuz it causes cancer
or so the tv says
while it sells us
alcohol, drugs and terrorism

cnn says more war and bloodshed, weapons, vermin (rats and roaches) and violence
we already know about abuse
(physical, sexual, emotional, or psychological)
every kind
in every way.

tv never seems to shut-up:
junk food and halloween
religion says that evolution, Rock-and-Roll music and sex
are bad,
but we know better.

more catastrophes/disasters (tsunamis and hurricanes)
crime
death and disease
homelessness
how can we smile in light of so much traumatic material
(including material that may be particularly upsetting such as animal shelters)

parapsychology, occult topics (i.e. fortune-telling)
witchcraft, and religious holidays (including but not limited to christmas, yom kippur, and ramadan)
good or bad?
tv can't decide
neither can we.

the books in school show pictures of slavery
and tell us it is over and all is good.
hard to tell.

we are mastering our bodily functions
finding joy in gambling which involves money
and in-depth discussions of sports that require prior knowledge

we think of running away
how can we not
but doesn't seem like there is an away to run to

loss of employment and nuclear weapons
tv says not to worry:
celebrations (and birthdays), expensive gifts, vacations, and prizes
wait for us, if we just learn how to play the game.

study hard in school
get good grades
and forget the words we have used
because if we stop using them
maybe the ideas they represent will disappear too.

Random Notes From Rawai #2

I am sitting on the side of the road. My eyes are closed and I can hear the gentle strum of a breeze beating against the lethargic fronds above. I come hear everyday to buy a few sodas for the dinner we have been eating with my wife, her parents and the girls. The house/store belongs to an old Thai couple; out here in Rawai, where we are staying, there are no Tattoo shops, Internet Cafes, Massage parlors, or Tour operators.

Our villa, a small house, is in a residential area and this shop operates outside this couple’s house. The man is always shirtless and wearing a sarong. He chastised me in broken English the other day for not buying beer. But back to the story, I am sitting out front getting some respite form the energy sucking commotion that comes from hanging out with two kids under five all day, everyday. It is quiet, the weather is perfect and it feels nice to let my thoughts doggie paddle in mind a few minutes each day. Here is what they said:

Let whitey have their Protestant work ethic. That dog don’t hunt down here in the tropics. Down here there is little need to get things one. There is sunbaked skin, lapping waves, and strong urges to nap and let the day pass with little angst. Yes, I know these are the musing of a man on vacation, but really what do we in “The West” for lack of a better word have stuck up our asses about schedules, efficiency, and hard work. I have been privy live in several expat communities who condescendingly  chastise the “locals” for being on (Insert tropical Clime) time. As if not being led by the stress of industry is some sort of moral flaw. I'll take it any day.

I watch a young family pass by on a scooter, the youngest mouth a gape swallowing the wind by the mouthful. Her shirtless dad all smiles. Behind me an old lady naps on her porch. My muscles are sore from swimming in the ocean and my skin is sun-baked. I don’t wan to turn this into a political treatise on the misguided superiority complex of colonialism and the true nature of humanity, so I will let it go. This was a thought I had while watching the road go by.

Next one:

So much talk about reforming education. Technology, Networks, Computers. Blah, blah, blah. Here’s an idea: send kids out into the world. Forget the Skype chat, take a group of kids and have them live in Phuket for a summer. Let them waste some time on a beach, start a business, learn to surf, make a film. Let them talk to people of other cultures, not research them on wikipedia. Let them learn to scuba dive, monitor a reef, or play with water colors. Weeks without walls are good, but only scratch the surface. True education is about authentic life and experience and the classroom is about neither. I have not thought out what this pedagogy will look like, but I know that travel is the best teacher in the world.

That’s about it. It is now dark and the music is loud and festive. I am calm and energized. Just felt the need to shed some thoughts.

Brave Enough

I could easily have watched Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" Rally - Interviews With Participants added my smug, flippant, elitist comment and passed it along on Facebook or Twitter. I would have bandied about words like ignorant, uniformed, red state, bible belt, and so on, but after watching this video three times, yes I am sick I know, I was left with a pile of pity so heavy in my lap that I had to write about it, so as to be able to sleep tonight.

Before I really get into it, let me say I understand that it is not fair to use videos like this to paint an accurate picture of an entire country or even a small group of people, even if those people are suspected Tea Party members. We cannot look at interviews with the same six people and claim they represent the ideas of even right wing fanatics, conservatives, or Republicans, whatever we are calling them these days. It is easy to edit the worst of people, stand back and laugh at the results. I get that. But there has to be some truth of the views being represented in this video.

There is something sad buried in here not too far below the surface. There is something scary in there as well. There is something that screams of fear and failure. We have failed, all of us as Americans if we allow this level of ignorance to continue. This misinformation seeped in panic and fear of the unknown brings out the worst in us. I see such terrified, insulated, uneducated people. I don’t mean stupid or even uniformed when I say uneducated, I mean people who are simply not thinking. They have never been taught that the world is made of many shades of grey.

Ideas, religions, even reality can be good and bad at the same time. We must question ideas and weigh the options. Look for reasons, motives behind our thoughts as well as the thoughts and ideas of others. I will not blame the lack of critical thinking on the American public school system, because after all I am a product of this system, and because teachers are getting a lot of bad press these days, I will simply ask- how can we as a nation work to help our citizens think more critically? How can we open their minds to the world outside America? This insulation is destroying our country.

Rather than ridicule or belittle the victims of this video, I want to see if we can think of a way we can reach out and share our knowledge of the world with Americans who perhaps see little more of the world than the talking points Fox News forces into their exhausted minds. Are you a teacher in a small rural town? Are your students afraid that Mexican hordes are coming to the US to drop anchor babies? Have you done a unit on Mexican history? Did your students learn all they need to know about Islam on 9/11? Can they find Iran, Malaysia, Qatar, or Indonesia on a map? I have lived in all four places and can Skype into your class and clear a few things up quickly. I am no fan of religion in general, but I will do my part to prove that Islam is not the enemy here.

The things these people say may border on the absurd, but careful examination shows that they are the main talking points of the punditry at Fox. If we deride and make fun of the most exploited amongst us, we are allowing Fox News the right to call us elitists and vilify us as they wish. If we do not help educate our citizenry, Fox will be more than happy to do it. We will never be able to compete with the Koch’s of the world, but maybe we can help open minds. We can move forward small classroom by classroom and help young people understand that America is not the last bastion. She is just a nation who struggles with other nations. She is made of people who struggle like all people.

I am not sure what percentage of people actually think that Al Sharpton has the ability to mobilize battalions of Black Panthers, but I would venture it is more than we think. Comments like the one about the Panthers illustrate how little people really understand the way our nation was built. I bet if asked to offer one aspect of the Panther philosophy, the subject of Black Power would quickly be changed or ignored.

There is something wrong with a nation if in the google age we cannot grasp the basic idea of what the Panther Party was about: We want land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice and peace. Do we teach students about the Panthers, Chicago in 1968, Malcom X, Tupac Shakur, of course not, so why do we belittle people for being terrified of African Americans, when a Mormon puppet master tells them 100 times a day that their president is a Muslim monster. Once we understand our history both black and white, we will realize that Al Sharpton has about the same chance of mobilizing these kinds of numbers of African Americas as Glenn Beck does.

But that’s just it. Glenn Beck does mobilize his base. How? By repeatedly appealing to their pride, faith, and fear. American is the only worthy nation on Earth blessed by God himself. It says so right on our money, how could that be wrong? We are the Last Bastion of freedom, not even Canada has a chance. If we don’t watch out we will all be living as slaves to black Muslim communists. We won’t be allowed to pray at the monuments. How will we know all of this, “ we will be told by the news.”

I don’t teach in the US, so I will do my part by teaching my Muslim students to be open minded and have them kind enough and ready to interact with Americans if they you ever brave enough to come out into the world and join the rest of us on this beautiful planet. You can watch the video, but after writing all that, I don’t recommend it.