Daily Blues & Views

A few years ago, if you asked someone to play a little word association game and mentioned the word Pluto, I'm sure the smallest planet or the Walt Disney cartoon dog would come up.  Now, I wouldn't be so sure. Pluto lost its status as a full-fledged planet a while back (though I doubt people will honor that) and Mickey Mouse's dog is seen far less than he used to be.  Not sure why this is the case, but the word Pluto is gaining a new respect with increased use of the term Plutocrat and the concept of Plutocracy. Defined as rule by the wealthy class, it's slowly becoming the reality here in North America.  Increasingly, we are in daily dispute about the loss of democracy in basic institutions like our schools. If we follow the money (operative word here is money) we find plutocrats behind the ill-informed school reform movement in large numbers.  The Koch brothers and Bill and Melinda Gates let their money inform their ideas about what ought to happen inside a clas...

Yesterday's final race at Hollywood Park brought up so many things in a surprising way.  OK, so an old racetrack closes.  What impact could that possibly have on millions of people?  It'll probably be forgotten in a few weeks.  That the 75 year old institution will be replaced by more apartments for the urban sprawl of Los Angeles is in itself a tragedy.  But Hollywood Park's demise clearly illustrates a dominant theme that's being repeated, without sufficient questioning, repeatedly in the early decades of this century. Is an expanding technology always a good thing?  When we lose tradition, the sense of a past history, do we always lose something irreplaceable?  I suggest that we do.  Horse racing will survive in some way or shape.  That's not the issue here.  I'm far too biased to discuss that question here, but what I worry about is what comprises the trade off when those with decision-making power vote to demolish icons of the past...

As a writer, I'm aware of tension in the pieces I write.  As a fairly sane, amiable person, I'm aware of how much I hate confrontation.  Thus, my task is to always provide enough tension.  That means I have to tweak characters from time to time.  It means I must do the same for how I remember experiences I want to write about and stories I need to tell. So it was with my most recent piece of memoir about how I balanced student groups, going against some of the strongest personalities in one particular class.  I've never been the kind of teacher who proudly and defiantly announces, "This is not a democracy."  I opt to agonize instead.  A fairly good piece resulted about a time I decided that the lessons of The Grapes of Wrath needed to apply to the inequitable groups my students made for a particular project. But that got me thinking.  First about the novel and then about teaching it this time of year.  It's a good December novel given t...

A real first yesterday.  With the latest school shooting came the distinction of a school shooting occurring on the anniversary of another school shooting.  So now we get the benefit of watching the latest grieving parents and then last year's, who, I might add, are still grieving. As commentator Bill Maher likes to say, "We're the gun country, that's all, that's how we're perceived by the rest of the world." True Dat! Where else can we begin to comprehend statistics like there were more people killed by guns in our country than in our military deployments throughout the past year. With some politicos fronting solutions like  arming teachers, it's only going to get worse. Another observation:  When the hand wringing stops and people begin authentic discussions of this phenomena we casually refer to as a school shooting, we easily seem to slide from gun laws to mental health issues.  A vicious circle of commentary. Why so many shootings in Colo...

As the world reacts to the death of Nelson Mandela, I keep harkening back to the days when it seemed there were very few teachers who made the struggle for human rights in South Africa part of their curriculum.  One of my former students reminded me the other day that I also had a poster in my classroom that raised the question Terrorist or Freedom Fighter? In recalling the history of Mandela's journey from prisoner to President, some of the news media (but far too few)  are reminding those who weren't alive or who have conveniently forgotten how as President, Ronald Reagan was on the wrong side of history with his policy of engagement toward South Africa.  Briefly, this policy was far too little too late and never really took a moral stance on Apartheid.  It wasn't until strong economic sanctions (not supported by Reagan) were enacted taht the tide began to turn.  But that's another story, but definitely one we can learn a good deal from in dealing with fut...

In the Fall of 1977 I went to a beautiful old church in South Berkeley, Ca. to see a film and presentation about Apartheid in South Africa.   The film concerned itself mainly with international investments in this openly racist country that just happened to be the world's largest producer of gold and diamonds. I had been teaching about South Africa for a few years; the same amount of time I had been teaching, actually.  I knew a bit about the political system of cruel and complete segregation.  I knew about Nelson Mandela and the ANC, but was just beginning to learn about recent uprising like Soweto.  That evening I learned about a burgeoning movement to disinvest in South Africa.  The film shown was available to teachers as a filmstrip that night.  I paid the $25.00 gladly as the funds were used to support similar showings.  "Banking on South Africa" served me well over the next15 years.  But it was something else I chanced to find for sale on t...

Between the time the John Kennedy was murdered while riding in a Dallas motorcade on a Friday and the following Sunday when the nation watched his flag draped casket carried through the streets of the nation's capital, two other significant events of that three day span took place.   The murder of Lee Harvey Oswald, the alleged assassin took place LIVE on national TV and, of course, Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as the next president all happened within hours of each other. I recall wanting to stay in front of the TV every second but my stern father wouldn't allow that.  It was Saturday, the day after the assassination and there were leaves to rake, lawns to mow, and with no football games (at least college games) time to complete some tasks that had long been overlooked.  Maybe it was because my parents had seen the death of a president before, even an assassination attempt on Truman's life, that they tried to avoid the 24/7 media coverage.  I, however, could not. ...

Mr. Carpenter walked slowly toward the speaker on the wall.  He hopped up on the small stage in the front of his classroom and waited for the tinkling xylophone intro to stop.  The sound, similar to the NBC station identification was a calm way to get attention.  But announcements had ended in period 2.  This was period 3 and from the look on Mr. Carpenter's face, something unscheduled was about to go down.  After a few microphone clicking sounds, we heard the voice of Mr. Taylor, our beloved Principal.  Uncharacteristically, he stammered, cleared his throat, and began. "This morning, the President of the United States has been shot while traveling in a motorcade in Dallas, Texas.  He has been taken to a hospital in critical condition.  Further details are not available at this time.  We will keep you informed as the day progresses." Mr. Carpenter's face drained white.  He said nothing.  We said nothing.  Then we slowly we...

Mr. Carpenter was my 11th grade English teacher.  Actually, it's wasn't called English that year.   The official name for the class was Language Skills.  We did very little writing and reading in favor of diagraming sentences.  We seriously diagramed sentences.  there was a little portable chalk board on a small stage that was in the front of the classroom.  Mr. Carpenter would step up on the little stage after taking roll at his desk off to the left.  He'd roll the little chalkboard out so the class could easily see it and have a sentence already written for us to dissect. The only other thing I recall about that class, save what I'm about to write now, is that we worked out of a grammar book most of the time.  I had my book covered with brown paper that had once held groceries.  Homework and classwork came out of that book.  It was language skills incarnate. Mr. Carpenter was the Junior class sponsor.  He was fairly popular, y...

The programs are starting.  Small nightly pieces in the national news and major documentaries on everything from Public Broadcasting to CNN.  I can't even imagine what Faux News will do.  It's the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.  Time to re-set the conspiracy theories, the shortcomings of the Warren Report, and complete the "where were you when" statements. One think I've noticed is that every year there are fewer and fewer people who recall the moment.  That's natural, but I did see an interview with the Dallas cop that was escorting Lee Harvey Oswald when he was intercepted and killed by Jack Ruby.  The guy looks great for his age and even admitted he gave little thought to the fact that people would remember him or the event they way they do 50 years later. I'm in the process of recalling that day as best I can.  In doing so, I've begun to look at the year 1963 itself.  What jumps out for me so far is how many remarkably signif...

As this century progresses, I see various vestiges of the last one drop away every day.  More and more electric devices replace every interaction.   I'm not sure it's all gloom and doom, but I do worry about how human interaction is diminishing.  The irony, of course, is that as we get more connected, we actually don't. If my experience today is any indication of this brave new world, then I've seen the future a bit more and possibly a bit clearer. I like t read a newspaper in the morning.  I could go online, but I actually like to hold it in my hands, fold it, do the crossword with a pen, look at the sports page and letters  to the editor.  In my town it's even more difficult to get a newspaper.  It's down to 3 days a week for home delivery, and the number of boxes on the street is dwindling.  When you do find one, pray that it works or that there is even one of the few they put inside daily left. I decided I'm going down with that ship. ...

It's been 7 years since I've taught a high school class from beginning to end.  There have been a few teacher writing workshops at conferences, and a couple of co-teaching moments in the classrooms of the student teachers I've supervised, but nothing bell to bell. That might end in a few weeks.  In my role as a mentor teacher, I occasionally have an opportunity to model a lesson.  Trouble is, most of the first year teachers I mentor don't live close enough to me to make that possible.  One is in Alaska, another in Montana.  Still another is on the Oregon coast in a small town, and a few others have been less enthusiastic about seeing the old man in action. This year might be different.  I've been mentoring a first year teacher close to home.  Well, fairly close to home. A recent study I read revealed that mentor teachers modeling a lesson and then possibly co-teaching it with the beginning teacher was rated one for the most useful things a mentor co...

In a few weeks we will acknowledge the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.  Thousands of books and hundreds of conspiracy theories later, that day, that event, that moment in time continues to be the defining experience (albeit a tragedy) for my generation. In thinking about that day, how it began and ended, I realize that my recollections are all filtered through the mind of an adolescent.  Yet November 22, 1963, and the weekend that followed proved to be the tipping point for the remainder of my life. I will recall that day and the days that followed another time.  As the anniversary nears, and even more books and made for TV movies surface, the Kennedy administration with all it' mythology and curiosity provides a crucial background with which to assess the current political scene. Today, we see democracy threatened in so many ways.  The rise of the Plutocrat, the huge disparity in wealth, the regressions of the Civil Rights movement all stand out...

What happens when you have had enough from a friend with whom you completely disagree on most issues?  On Facebook, it's a simple matter of "de-friending" someone.  In reality it doesn't work that way.  Do we want to dismiss friendships because our political leanings differ so widely from people we might otherwise enjoy being around?  It happens.  Most folks just avoid certain subjects or remove themselves from one another's lives gradually. But it's complicated, isn't it? Facebook certainly makes some strange bedfellows.  Sometimes they wind up as juxtaposed portraits, agreeing on something they obviously have a different take on, but nevertheless feel strongly enough to state an opinion. But we all have people in our lives that don't experience the universe as we do.  People who belong to what we might consider the wrong political party, attend the wrong schools, social institutions, or have world views that are undeniably opposed to each other...

We call them teacup kids.  Teacups because they are or are treated as FRAGILE.  What we've got here are kids who completely control their parents.  The tail wagging the dog.  They get choices.  Choices about everything.  Do you want the yellow cup or the green one?  The blue straw or the red one?  I wonder if they even know.  If they even care. They dress themselves in all kinds of weather.  It's raining outside but teacup kids are wearing summer outfits.  There is snow on the ground, but those treated like the good china are wearing patent leather dance shoes. Recently something came to my attention that involved such a child-rearing style and it gave me pause.  Huge pause.  A friend of ours from the coffee shop had a birthday party for her 4 year old.  There were other kids and a great big chocolate cake.  I'm sure there were many presents too.  What was not there was any "singing or laughing."  App...

I just read an article about teacher turnover.  Latest statistics show that about 50% that go into the profession quit after 5 years.  Not too surprising especially given all the public perceptions and the low wages combined with the work load.  In my work with beginning teachers, I've research the attrition rate now and then and what I've found is no surprise.  The reality eventually overcomes the romantic notion that so many carry in their heads.  Add to that the ongoing corporate attack for privatization, the testing frenzy, and how those interests interpret test scores, the general lack of respect for authority figures, and there you have it. There are those, on the contrary, who will stay no matter how difficult the conditions or how low the pay.  For a change, I'd like to consider why they stay.  I suspect that many who qualify here feel the same as I do.  My full-time tenure lasted 33 years.  I had intended to take a break about th...

The commentators are saying our wounds are self-inflicted.  It's a logical explanation for why the current government shutdown continues to confuse, anger, and depress anyone outside of Congress.  The metaphor begs the question: what motivates self-harm? Countries can best be understood by considering the behavior of people.  After all, national character explains quite a bit about why Russians differ from Japanese, or how Americans are perceived world-wide as opposed to Syrians.  The Brits the French and the Italians all have character traits that distinguish themselves from one another. Thus, it follows that people who self-inflict pain for various reasons, might go a long way to explain why countries do it.  Are we angry, guilty, or in need of attention?  Is that why the U.S. Congress refuses to budge?  Are they all right fighters who will not blink and simply lock themselves into an unmovable position?  No doubt some are.  But is there ...

Yesterday dawned clear and sunny.  That's the reason I decided to hit the road about 6:30 a.m. and get in one of those Fall days of fishing.  It was a Sunday.  Can't remember the last time I went on a Sunday because I usually avoid  the crowds and traffic on weekends.  But the window opened and let in a 75 degree day in the big middle of some intense rain storms up here.  Sometimes you can over think a simple matter like spend the day on a lake or not. Landing at my favorite little Mt. Hood lake about 8:00 proved a surprise.  Very few people around.  The gate to the little parking lot was still open but the day use area bulletin board with fee envelopes was gone.  Winter is approaching.  Over the course of the day, the temperature rose about 20 degrees.  From better put on a fleece to time to take off another layer.  The chill vanished about 11:00 and a pair of canoes hit the water.  Just three watercraft until a family o...

According to a new article in Scientific American, people lose civility when they don't talk to each other eye to eye.  In fact, the popular magazine with impeccable credentials is going one step further by eliminating the Comments section form its online publication. http://gu.com/p/3j3dv Who among us has not engaged in a simple act of sharing ideas with someone we don't know and possibly don't agree with...Online. We call them trolls, but these angry responders who feel empowered with their anonymity, are everywhere.  For many, this is a new phenomena.  Not so.  There have been few but definitely other opportunities for the exchange of ideas without revealing one's identity. About 15 years ago, in our pre internet savvy world I chanced to come upon an idea that would allow students in a classroom to exchange ideas with an anonymous identity and hopefully extend an exchange that moved far beyond the confines of a classroom.  I heard about something call...

It sits calmly in the bottom drawer of a file cabinet.  Not sure how long it's been since the electricity has brought the small black box to life.  It's outdated.  Another example of how the new technology has replaced what once was state of the art.  It's a small portable tape recorder. For the better part of three decades, this was my teaching tool of choice.  Funny how in a culture that is so visually oriented, there is much merit in hearing only sound. I wonder now if this is something to be concerned about or another inconsequential thing to simply let go.  Seems like something that impacted my students lives in so many ways deserves better treatment.  Oh, I know that You Tube and Pandora and many other web sites have everything you need, but I can recall a few techniques/strategies that just can't be duplicated. When students are asked to simply listen to a voice or a piece of music, it helps them focus.  It requires attention, it dema...

Small complete poems go through my mind, When I'm without pen or keyboard, Driving my truck, Navigating a lake, Walking in a river. Like wispy clouds, once formed, They dissipate overhead, Never formed quite the same again. As a writer, I'm always looking at things.  Perhaps even staring.  At people when I walk, when I drive, when I go to the grocery store.  Sometimes, while waiting for a light to turn green, the best poems come to mind.  They begin as images or little scenes that play out and the evolve into something bigger, deeper, or universal.  Then they vanish. In the turn of a color on a traffic light, or the beginning of a new conversation they disappear like vapor, like wispy clouds, drifting through and then over and then gone. Sometimes I wonder how many of these little gems have come and gone.  There is a little trick they often play on me too.  In the minutes after I awake, before I get up, I re-play ideas, events, interactio...

Watching TV to keep up with the news is like going to a party.  Sex, religion and politics, in any order.  Those are the topics of choice.  We hear about "twerking," and are confronted with all manner of exhibitionism in local news.  Should women be wearing yoga pants in non-yoga areas.  The office, the workplace, school, church...and that's just the teachers! Religion encroaches in all the right places.  Christian Mingle, the online dating service pops up on the screen during the grisliest of crime shows, the politician's speeches and the sit-coms so full of sexual innuendo that every second of canned laughter barely hides the grins, the gasps, the outcries, or the mindless guffaws. So what's the message?  Are we a society and culture in decline or just rapidly changing?  Probably both.  I recall a student once coming to school with a most offensive tee shirt.  Offensive in that the cartoon image on the front made it impossible for hi...

While reading the morning paper (as long as there still is one, I'll read it) I came across a fascinating piece detailing a historic meeting between an official of the Ku Klux Klan and a local NAACP leader.  What made this encounter even more improbable was that it occurred in Casper, Wyoming.  Yes, there are African American people in Wyoming.  There is also a KKK chapter too.  The Klan official was from Great Falls, Montana.  Must be some kind of a regional leader. In the photograph which accompanied the article, the NAACP president was smiling.  The Klan official was grinning too.  The latter carried an attache case and wore a business suit. Apparently there have been some hate crimes in Casper and at the invitation of the NAACP, the Klan leader wanted to assure them that his organization is no longer committed to violence to further its ideals. http://www.oregonlive.com/newsflash/index.ssf/story/naacp-kkk-meeting-in-wyo-believed-to-be/3ba7bf8bb9...

Even though I couldn't get past the title, I read the review with an open mind.  Then I read it again; a close reading just to make sure I understood the premise and the process.  With a title like The Smartest Kids in the World And How They Got That Way , I knew I was in for a treat.  At the outset, let me confess that I detest the word smart.  There is something aloof about it.  It's nose in the air snooty.  It seems to imply that I know something you don't know.  I much prefer intelligent.  In face I strongly prefer intelligences.  There are at least 8 kinds, you know.  But it doesn't matter what I think, what matters here is that this new book with this publisher's dream title by Amanda Ripley, will spark a good deal of conversation. "Smartest Kids" will take its place with all those comparison studies between the education offered and the education systems of the U.S. and, in this case, South Korea, Finland, and Poland.  If...

Every now and then a line or two from the play "Inherit the Wind" floats through my mind.  Being a universal work with a timeless message, I can't say I'm surprised.  Today, while stopped in front of a crosswalk, I watched a pair of Twenty somethings cross in front of me.  They were unrelated, she walking a few steps in front of him.  Both had their heads tilted downward, eyes focused on a smart phone screen.  They were obviously preoccupied but managed to walk in front of the cars stopped without looking ahead, behind or to the side in any way. I've long thought that people in the city never look up and therefore miss much of their environment.  Now it seems many don't even look straight ahead.  This certainly is the work of the new technology. I see tis more and more all the time.  People seem to be in this world but certainly a lot less involved in it.  They manage to maneuver with their own soundtracks, their own conversations aloud, ...

It was bound to happen.  Most major sports venues have corporate names or logos attached to them.  But when it happens in your home town, the dart stings just a little bit more. In Portland, The Trailblazers are the only major pro team in town.  In the "Rose City" their arena was aptly named The Rose Garden.  Nobody ever got it confused with the famous literal rose garden in Washington Park.  Both draw millions of visitors yearly. It's the corporate name that sticks in the craw. In this case it's now called the Moda arena in honor of a health care system that paid $40 million to advertise their name and remove the neon roses that light the arena now.  Of all the recent reactions to this news locally there is one that stands out as most amusing.  Up here we have a product called "Dave's Killer Bread."  It's a healthy loaf that comes in various incarnations of whole grains and named for it's founder, Dave, who turned his life around after ...

One of the things I love about horse racing is no matter how many races you have seen in your lifetime, there is always the possibility of seeing something you've never seen before.  Watching a baseball game is like that too.  Just when you think that something so simple as hitting a small sphere and running around the bases, or a small pack of horses running in a circle, is a dull, repetitive, uninspiring endeavor, it isn't.  Things happen.  Unpredictable things happen.  Maybe not all the time, but they do happen. A perfect life metaphor, no?  Of course it is.  This last month has been filled with such unpredictabilities.  Which is to say it has been predictable.   I'm forced to move, and then I'm not.  I'm moving downstairs, and then I'm not.  I'm going to vacation in Central Oregon, and then I end up in the East Bay dealing with a family emergency.  And in the end, some sort of balance restores itself and I'm reminded why i...

I set the alarm for 3:30.  That would give me half an hour to get on my waders, warm up some coffee, gather up all my gear, and maybe make a piece of toast.  If I left the house by 4 a.m. I'd have 45 min. to get to the Sandy River on time.  This was no ordinary fishing trip.  There would be lots of fishing but no catching.  Lots of casts into the rushing stream, lots of anticipation, but no real fishing.  I was an actor in a commercial.  That's right, cast as a caster! Long story short, I'd signed up to be in extra for the IFC series Portlandia and in filling out the questionnaire mentioned that one of my interests is fly fishing.  Five years later a casting company making a commercial for Ramada Inns gives me a call and I get the part: one of three fly fishers to be filmed casting their hopes to the Sandy River, one of Oregon's classic steelhead streams. I don't know what the better story is, the actual making of the commercial, or all the prep...