The BBC reports that former Rwandan Major Bernard Ntuyahaga has been sentenced to twenty years in prison for the murders, thirteen years ago, of ten Belgian Peacekeepers in the early days of the 1994 genocide.
I'm sure there's something in there about justice delayed and justice served.
And granted it's a small thing, considering that at least 800,000 people, probably more, were killed in the most horrific ways imaginable, while we watched, during those one hundred days between April and June.
I want justice for all those that died, and for all those that lived.
I am privileged enough to know a survivor. A wonderful young man, who with his sister, is one of only two remaining members of his family. His mother, his father, his seven brothers and sisters all died in the genocide. Only one of their bodies was ever found.
He coaches youth soccer and he's been kind enough to come and speak to my kids when I've asked, sharing his story when I teach my unit on genocide. On the block schedule, I've been able to find the time to do this with my kids for the last several years.
I bought the PBS Frontline video Ghosts of Rwanda, created the handouts, the worksheets, the lessons, and carved out the time in my schedule to give a huge chunk of classtime, two to three weeks, including time in the media center to negotiate the website.
I did this away from a strict interpretation of state mandates and department guidelines regarding time spent on units, to cover the event in depth.
Because I think it's important.
The kids never fail to start the unit bitching and moaning about the amount of work they need to do to get to the video, especially since most of them have no knowledge of Africa or events in pre-history such as things that happened in 1994.
But they also never fail to get into the unit. And they never fail to be moved by the sight of all those bodies. They never fail to be righteously indignant about the failure of the West to intervene. Even when I make them factor in the lingering after effects the deaths of American servicemen in Mogadishu had on the Clinton administration.
Even knowing the number of deaths in the genocide, they still never fail to ask if those bodies are real.
And that's why it's important. Because the bodies were real. All of them. And they were not getting up. Ever again.
Because it wasn't a game. There was no reset. It wasn't gratuitous violence on the big screen, the small screen, or on someone's PSP. It was real. And it is still going on.
And my kids will never know that unless I show them.
Which for the first time in over five years, I may not be able to do.
Under the trimester system, which saves money for financially strapped districts converting from block, under the crush of NCLB and state mandated standarized testing, under the crush of increasing demands to cover more in less time with less resources and a more needful student population lacking the skills to do so, in classrooms crowded with over 35, I face the very real possibility that I will not be able to find a way to work this unit into my curriculum.
I can't imagine anyone telling me I shouldn't. It happens. It is a tragedy.
Because this is what I believe social studies teachers are supposed to do.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Not so rational choice
I ran across this on Slate when I was over visiting Tantulus Prime and left this comment.
As this is something close to my heart, I decided to put it here, too. So here it is.
I can't begin to tell you how much this scares me.
Hope is indeed a powerful drug, especially when it blinds one to reality or to the possibility of something better.
As a parent I can undestand the absolute agony of trying to love and care for an autistic child; the absolute agony of having to admit that you may have done/passed on something that damaged your child. But blinding yourself willingly or unwillingly to reality is just another instance of doing harm.
As a teacher I've seen a steady increase in the number of autistic students over the last few years. Every predictor of future student population dynamics suggests that will continue at an increasing rate.
Of course parents want answers.
It's particularly difficult for parents as their students enter high school, facing the knowledge that they are coming to the end of what public education can provide and worrying about transitioning their child to the next phase of life.
There is a lot of information to be considered; a lot of factors beyond one's control, and a host of intangibles.
I see a lot of parents trying to cope with the reality of their child's disconnect from social norms, but willful blindness or ignorance does not serve the best interests of the child.
In spite of propoganda to the contrary, very rarely are any decisions made with any clear sense of the best interests of the child.
As this is something close to my heart, I decided to put it here, too. So here it is.
I can't begin to tell you how much this scares me.
Hope is indeed a powerful drug, especially when it blinds one to reality or to the possibility of something better.
As a parent I can undestand the absolute agony of trying to love and care for an autistic child; the absolute agony of having to admit that you may have done/passed on something that damaged your child. But blinding yourself willingly or unwillingly to reality is just another instance of doing harm.
As a teacher I've seen a steady increase in the number of autistic students over the last few years. Every predictor of future student population dynamics suggests that will continue at an increasing rate.
Of course parents want answers.
It's particularly difficult for parents as their students enter high school, facing the knowledge that they are coming to the end of what public education can provide and worrying about transitioning their child to the next phase of life.
There is a lot of information to be considered; a lot of factors beyond one's control, and a host of intangibles.
I see a lot of parents trying to cope with the reality of their child's disconnect from social norms, but willful blindness or ignorance does not serve the best interests of the child.
In spite of propoganda to the contrary, very rarely are any decisions made with any clear sense of the best interests of the child.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Approaching the Fourth
As far as holidays go, the Fourth is pretty easy to prepare for. No turkey or presents or baskets to get or make. It doesn't even require any special decorating. My kinda holiday.
We've got our big box o' fireworks for blowing up, some charcoal, some burgers, and some other stuff. So I figure we're good to go.
But as I sit here, I realize that I have yet to have a day off from work, which is unusual as I am a teacher and school got out about a month ago. And everyone knows that teachers get all summer, every summer off. That's why we became teachers, right?
But here I sit, again, re-doing my slightly less than one thousand slide PowerPoint slideshow for the notes I will be giving my class during the upcoming year.
Why? Because this way anyone (not that many do) missing a class can go on-line and find out exactly what it was that we covered the day they were gone, get the notes they need to bring themselves up to date. So that my non-readers (the students I get every year that have a second grade reading level) can see the notes up on the big screen and write them as I read them and discuss them with the class. You know that whole combining auditory and visual learning styles stuff and such.
Because this way I can pull all the information that I need to cover to address content and testing standards and state mandates while streamlining the process so that I can cover an impossible amout of material in an improbable amout of time. Because this way I don't have to worry about giving out books that won't be used and won't be returned, because we don't have enough books for all the kids that take the class anyway.
And I wonder why I work harder than my students to make sure that only an 'acceptable' number fail. The only way you can fail my class is to make a decsion to do so. Even students that fail my class say that. You have to decide to fail. Decide to come to class everyday and do nothing. Or don't come to class and do nothing. I have about an equal number of students in each camp, a fairly recent phenomonon. More and more students enter my class and their high school careers ready, willing, and able to do nothing.
And I have no idea how to address that. No idea how to leverage the students who will do nothing and have no problem accepting failure as their option of choice. This bothers me no end as I do an incredible amout to present options for success. But you do have to do more than just show up. That's a huge part of life, I admit, but it isn't enough to successfully push you over the finish line.
So I sit here redoing the slideshow, rethinking the logistics of switching from block to trimester scheduling, rethinking approaches strategies and updating resources and materials, knowing that my incoming freshmen in the fall won't know who Lewis Libby is or why he isn't going to jail or why that's important, who think that Bill Clinton got into trouble for getting a blow job from Monica Lewinski.
Who won't know about genoicde in the Darfur, or the Death Map of Baghad, or Iraqui refugees in Jordan; but who will know about Paris Hilton, who will know about Chris Benoit because they and their parents are wresting fans, who know about steroids because they know football players and wrestlers and coaches who use them. And yes, that's important and yes, that is a tragedy.
But it is also a tragedy that we are producing a generation so willing to settle for nothing, so willing to say that it is all right for only a small, privileged few to succeed while the rest don't.
And it is beyond tragic that so many are so willing to blame me for that failure when so much of that is beyond my control. Teachers in the past had support networks working with them not against them in their students' families and society in general. Valuing education is more than half the battle here.
Abrogating responsbility and accountability, refusing to entertain alternative methods of presenting options to students, helping to secure the tools and resources and viable options needed to at least make success an option for them, even after years of being shown and not just told what those options and resources and settings are, is beyond negligent.
Or maybe I'm just cranky.
We've got our big box o' fireworks for blowing up, some charcoal, some burgers, and some other stuff. So I figure we're good to go.
But as I sit here, I realize that I have yet to have a day off from work, which is unusual as I am a teacher and school got out about a month ago. And everyone knows that teachers get all summer, every summer off. That's why we became teachers, right?
But here I sit, again, re-doing my slightly less than one thousand slide PowerPoint slideshow for the notes I will be giving my class during the upcoming year.
Why? Because this way anyone (not that many do) missing a class can go on-line and find out exactly what it was that we covered the day they were gone, get the notes they need to bring themselves up to date. So that my non-readers (the students I get every year that have a second grade reading level) can see the notes up on the big screen and write them as I read them and discuss them with the class. You know that whole combining auditory and visual learning styles stuff and such.
Because this way I can pull all the information that I need to cover to address content and testing standards and state mandates while streamlining the process so that I can cover an impossible amout of material in an improbable amout of time. Because this way I don't have to worry about giving out books that won't be used and won't be returned, because we don't have enough books for all the kids that take the class anyway.
And I wonder why I work harder than my students to make sure that only an 'acceptable' number fail. The only way you can fail my class is to make a decsion to do so. Even students that fail my class say that. You have to decide to fail. Decide to come to class everyday and do nothing. Or don't come to class and do nothing. I have about an equal number of students in each camp, a fairly recent phenomonon. More and more students enter my class and their high school careers ready, willing, and able to do nothing.
And I have no idea how to address that. No idea how to leverage the students who will do nothing and have no problem accepting failure as their option of choice. This bothers me no end as I do an incredible amout to present options for success. But you do have to do more than just show up. That's a huge part of life, I admit, but it isn't enough to successfully push you over the finish line.
So I sit here redoing the slideshow, rethinking the logistics of switching from block to trimester scheduling, rethinking approaches strategies and updating resources and materials, knowing that my incoming freshmen in the fall won't know who Lewis Libby is or why he isn't going to jail or why that's important, who think that Bill Clinton got into trouble for getting a blow job from Monica Lewinski.
Who won't know about genoicde in the Darfur, or the Death Map of Baghad, or Iraqui refugees in Jordan; but who will know about Paris Hilton, who will know about Chris Benoit because they and their parents are wresting fans, who know about steroids because they know football players and wrestlers and coaches who use them. And yes, that's important and yes, that is a tragedy.
But it is also a tragedy that we are producing a generation so willing to settle for nothing, so willing to say that it is all right for only a small, privileged few to succeed while the rest don't.
And it is beyond tragic that so many are so willing to blame me for that failure when so much of that is beyond my control. Teachers in the past had support networks working with them not against them in their students' families and society in general. Valuing education is more than half the battle here.
Abrogating responsbility and accountability, refusing to entertain alternative methods of presenting options to students, helping to secure the tools and resources and viable options needed to at least make success an option for them, even after years of being shown and not just told what those options and resources and settings are, is beyond negligent.
Or maybe I'm just cranky.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Yes, Michigan
Yes, Michigan. The state with the law on the books making adultry a crime punishable by life in prison.
Anyway.
CNN reports that a 19-year-old man from Ecorse went on trial today in Michigan. He's the father of a brand-new, bouncing baby girl. Mom was eleven-years-old when she got pregnant.
Three of the five counts in the indictment are against him for first-degree sexual conduct, person under thirteen, which carries a possible life sentence. The two other counts in the indictment are against his mother and the mother of the eleven year old.
His defense? Not guilty by reason of insanity.
And in mom's neighborhood? No one is outraged or enraged. It's not their business. And this seems to surprise the reporter.
It used to be that I would see my nineth-graders come into high school and get pregnant during their freshman year. About three or four years ago, they began coming in with babies who turned one during their freshman year.
Yes, that means they were getting pregnant at eleven. In junior high. In middle school. Call it what you will.
And no one seemed to care. Not the moms, not the mothers of the moms, or the dads. We were just supposed to fix it all by making sure they passed their classes and the standarized tests that NCLB demands.
They'd fall asleep in class, when they came, because they'd been up all night with the kid. The level of support they had at home was minimal. What we can give them in school falls far short of what they need.
And yet we're held accountable.
When is too soon, too soon? And why is this case any different than all the others? Should we be prosecuting this guy for doing what hundreds of others do? Or should we be charging every sexually active male who has consensual sex with an underage minor with statutory rape?
Who decides? Who's responsible?
Anyway.
CNN reports that a 19-year-old man from Ecorse went on trial today in Michigan. He's the father of a brand-new, bouncing baby girl. Mom was eleven-years-old when she got pregnant.
Three of the five counts in the indictment are against him for first-degree sexual conduct, person under thirteen, which carries a possible life sentence. The two other counts in the indictment are against his mother and the mother of the eleven year old.
His defense? Not guilty by reason of insanity.
And in mom's neighborhood? No one is outraged or enraged. It's not their business. And this seems to surprise the reporter.
It used to be that I would see my nineth-graders come into high school and get pregnant during their freshman year. About three or four years ago, they began coming in with babies who turned one during their freshman year.
Yes, that means they were getting pregnant at eleven. In junior high. In middle school. Call it what you will.
And no one seemed to care. Not the moms, not the mothers of the moms, or the dads. We were just supposed to fix it all by making sure they passed their classes and the standarized tests that NCLB demands.
They'd fall asleep in class, when they came, because they'd been up all night with the kid. The level of support they had at home was minimal. What we can give them in school falls far short of what they need.
And yet we're held accountable.
When is too soon, too soon? And why is this case any different than all the others? Should we be prosecuting this guy for doing what hundreds of others do? Or should we be charging every sexually active male who has consensual sex with an underage minor with statutory rape?
Who decides? Who's responsible?
Beginning the Blog
Shakespeare once said that action is eloquence.
Min Kim suggests, in Better Blogging Brainstorming, SXSW 2206, that there's always something to write about, and if there's not then you need to live life more aggressively.
One can only hope then, that creating and maintaining this blog will indeed be eloquent. And that life is at least as aggessive as it needs to be.
It's an act of faith for me. Faith that I can find something to say. Faith that there will be someone who finds that worth listening to.
Writing; the state of public education and NCLB; the state of the union; the state of your life; current events and personal issues.
What would you like to talk about?
Min Kim suggests, in Better Blogging Brainstorming, SXSW 2206, that there's always something to write about, and if there's not then you need to live life more aggressively.
One can only hope then, that creating and maintaining this blog will indeed be eloquent. And that life is at least as aggessive as it needs to be.
It's an act of faith for me. Faith that I can find something to say. Faith that there will be someone who finds that worth listening to.
Writing; the state of public education and NCLB; the state of the union; the state of your life; current events and personal issues.
What would you like to talk about?
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