04 August 2010

Here I Stand

July 27, 2010

Valedictorian Speaks Out Against Schooling in Graduation Speech

Last month, Erica Goldson graduated as valedictorian of Coxsackie-Athens High School. Instead of using her graduation speech to celebrate the triumph of her victory, the school, and the teachers that made it happen, she channeled her inner Ivan Illich and de-constructed the logic of a valedictorian and the whole educational system.

Erica originally posted her full speech on Sign of the Times, and without need for editing or cutting, here's the speech in its entirety:

Here I stand

There is a story of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master, "If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen? The Master thought about this, then replied, "Ten years . ." The student then said, "But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast -- How long then?" Replied the Master, "Well, twenty years." "But, if I really, really work at it, how long then?" asked the student. "Thirty years," replied the Master. "But, I do not understand," said the disappointed student. "At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?" Replied the Master, "When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path."

This is the dilemma I've faced within the American education system. We are so focused on a goal, whether it be passing a test, or graduating as first in the class. However, in this way, we do not really learn. We do whatever it takes to achieve our original objective.

Some of you may be thinking, "Well, if you pass a test, or become valedictorian, didn't you learn something? Well, yes, you learned something, but not all that you could have. Perhaps, you only learned how to memorize names, places, and dates to later on forget in order to clear your mind for the next test. School is not all that it can be. Right now, it is a place for most people to determine that their goal is to get out as soon as possible.

I am now accomplishing that goal. I am graduating. I should look at this as a positive experience, especially being at the top of my class. However, in retrospect, I cannot say that I am any more intelligent than my peers. I can attest that I am only the best at doing what I am told and working the system. Yet, here I stand, and I am supposed to be proud that I have completed this period of indoctrination. I will leave in the fall to go on to the next phase expected of me, in order to receive a paper document that certifies that I am capable of work. But I contest that I am a human being, a thinker, an adventurer - not a worker. A worker is someone who is trapped within repetition - a slave of the system set up before him. But now, I have successfully shown that I was the best slave. I did what I was told to the extreme. While others sat in class and doodled to later become great artists, I sat in class to take notes and become a great test-taker. While others would come to class without their homework done because they were reading about an interest of theirs, I never missed an assignment. While others were creating music and writing lyrics, I decided to do extra credit, even though I never needed it. So, I wonder, why did I even want this position? Sure, I earned it, but what will come of it? When I leave educational institutionalism, will I be successful or forever lost? I have no clue about what I want to do with my life; I have no interests because I saw every subject of study as work, and I excelled at every subject just for the purpose of excelling, not learning. And quite frankly, now I'm scared.

John Taylor Gatto, a retired school teacher and activist critical of compulsory schooling, asserts, "We could encourage the best qualities of youthfulness - curiosity, adventure, resilience, the capacity for surprising insight simply by being more flexible about time, texts, and tests, by introducing kids into truly competent adults, and by giving each student what autonomy he or she needs in order to take a risk every now and then. But we don't do that." Between these cinderblock walls, we are all expected to be the same. We are trained to ace every standardized test, and those who deviate and see light through a different lens are worthless to the scheme of public education, and therefore viewed with contempt.

H. L. Mencken wrote in The American Mercury for April 1924 that the aim of public education is not "to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence. ... Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim ... is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States."

To illustrate this idea, doesn't it perturb you to learn about the idea of "critical thinking." Is there really such a thing as "uncritically thinking?" To think is to process information in order to form an opinion. But if we are not critical when processing this information, are we really thinking? Or are we mindlessly accepting other opinions as truth?

This was happening to me, and if it wasn't for the rare occurrence of an avant-garde tenth grade English teacher, Donna Bryan, who allowed me to open my mind and ask questions before accepting textbook doctrine, I would have been doomed. I am now enlightened, but my mind still feels disabled. I must retrain myself and constantly remember how insane this ostensibly sane place really is.

And now here I am in a world guided by fear, a world suppressing the uniqueness that lies inside each of us, a world where we can either acquiesce to the inhuman nonsense of corporatism and materialism or insist on change. We are not enlivened by an educational system that clandestinely sets us up for jobs that could be automated, for work that need not be done, for enslavement without fervency for meaningful achievement. We have no choices in life when money is our motivational force. Our motivational force ought to be passion, but this is lost from the moment we step into a system that trains us, rather than inspires us.

We are more than robotic bookshelves, conditioned to blurt out facts we were taught in school. We are all very special, every human on this planet is so special, so aren't we all deserving of something better, of using our minds for innovation, rather than memorization, for creativity, rather than futile activity, for rumination rather than stagnation? We are not here to get a degree, to then get a job, so we can consume industry-approved placation after placation. There is more, and more still.

The saddest part is that the majority of students don't have the opportunity to reflect as I did. The majority of students are put through the same brainwashing techniques in order to create a complacent labor force working in the interests of large corporations and secretive government, and worst of all, they are completely unaware of it. I will never be able to turn back these 18 years. I can't run away to another country with an education system meant to enlighten rather than condition. This part of my life is over, and I want to make sure that no other child will have his or her potential suppressed by powers meant to exploit and control. We are human beings. We are thinkers, dreamers, explorers, artists, writers, engineers. We are anything we want to be - but only if we have an educational system that supports us rather than holds us down. A tree can grow, but only if its roots are given a healthy foundation.

For those of you out there that must continue to sit in desks and yield to the authoritarian ideologies of instructors, do not be disheartened. You still have the opportunity to stand up, ask questions, be critical, and create your own perspective. Demand a setting that will provide you with intellectual capabilities that allow you to expand your mind instead of directing it. Demand that you be interested in class. Demand that the excuse, "You have to learn this for the test" is not good enough for you. Education is an excellent tool, if used properly, but focus more on learning rather than getting good grades.

For those of you that work within the system that I am condemning, I do not mean to insult; I intend to motivate. You have the power to change the incompetencies of this system. I know that you did not become a teacher or administrator to see your students bored. You cannot accept the authority of the governing bodies that tell you what to teach, how to teach it, and that you will be punished if you do not comply. Our potential is at stake.

For those of you that are now leaving this establishment, I say, do not forget what went on in these classrooms. Do not abandon those that come after you. We are the new future and we are not going to let tradition stand. We will break down the walls of corruption to let a garden of knowledge grow throughout America. Once educated properly, we will have the power to do anything, and best of all, we will only use that power for good, for we will be cultivated and wise. We will not accept anything at face value. We will ask questions, and we will demand truth.

So, here I stand. I am not standing here as valedictorian by myself. I was molded by my environment, by all of my peers who are sitting here watching me. I couldn't have accomplished this without all of you. It was all of you who truly made me the person I am today. It was all of you who were my competition, yet my backbone. In that way, we are all valedictorians.

I am now supposed to say farewell to this institution, those who maintain it, and those who stand with me and behind me, but I hope this farewell is more of a "see you later" when we are all working together to rear a pedagogic movement. But first, let's go get those pieces of paper that tell us that we're smart enough to do so!

Taken from http://blog.swiftkickonline.com/2010/07/valedictorian-speaks-out-against-schooling-in-graduation-speech.html

01 August 2010

Reflections

We are coping with our decision, but it hasn't been particularly easy. Chad's family seems to be pretending nothing happened, and most of my family is still ignoring me completely. I'm sure Chad's family just has no idea what to say, but I wish they'd say something to acknowledge our loss. I did, finally, have a short chat with my MIL, but I feel it was not long enough and not enough was said. As for my family, well, they've always been an odd sort. My sweet cousins in Brasil have said far more to comfort me than anyone else. My dad is just happy I'm not putting my life in danger anymore. He and my stepmother were the only two people who never questioned my judgment, and for that I am thankful. It's difficult enough to make such a decision (at least it was for us) without having to defend it to others, especially those who really have no idea what it's like to make such a decision. The one person who I hoped would understand the most has been completely absent, and that really hurts. My grandparents haven't said anything, but honestly I don't think they know, so it's not their fault.

We didn't really have any good choices in this situation, but I still maintain we made the right choice.

23 July 2010

Closure is cathartic

Surgery went well and I am recovering.

Closure is cathartic.

One door has closed. Perhaps, soon, another will open.



In other, completely unrelated news, these two boys are extremely happy. Wanna know why?

Because Aidan is getting a new cousin, and Alan is getting a SISTER! Soon, the boys will have their OWN pretty girl to boss them around :). Congrats to my sister-in-law and brother-in-law on their baby girl, due in early December!

22 July 2010

Taking Control

On the eve of a monumental decision, I feel sad and empty. I did not come to this decision lightly, and I still feel that I was forced into it. The fear of loosing another child is paralyzing - it has been my first and last thought each day for the last 2 months.

And that's no way to live.

Which was precisely what I was not doing.

I went through motions. I smiled, and made awkward conversation. But inside I was still crying, screaming, cursing, bitter, and of course, empty. That my body destroyed another life disgusted me. I let myself, my husband, and my son down. I let the life inside of me down, the life that we weren't allowed to have. The one person in my entire family who could understand what I was going through meant well, but ultimately gave me no support, and everyone else just has no clue what to say or do (except for one very special new friend, who knows just how grateful I am). Despite good intentions by several people, I have never felt more alone.

And in my heart, I knew it was another girl that I lost, just as I knew the first was also a girl. I wanted them so desperately, but they were not meant for this earth.

Aidan needs a mother and Chad needs a wife. I need to be there for them, and I cannot do so and risk being pregnant again. I am not strong enough to loose another baby; honestly, I don't even know if I'd be strong enough to go through a pregnancy again.

Not when I already have Aidan, this perfect little boy who's all mine, and who loves me so unconditionally and asks for so little in return.

I have no control over my body's ability to carry a child to term. I can help it with drugs, but ultimately it's out of my hands.

But this I can control.

And, tomorrow, I will take control...

...because I need closure, so that I can move on.

But please, in the meantime, let me grieve.

13 July 2010

Eloquent words on loss

Elizabeth, from Boy Crazy, recently posted some material so near and dear to my heart, that I feel compelled to share. She tells the story of her best friend Alison, whose firstborn child was born sleeping three years ago. I asked, and received, permission to cross-post, because Alison's words were so much more eloquent in expressing my feelings over our losses than I could ever hope to accomplish.

Elizabeth writes:
When she lost Annika, the people who helped her most were those "who were willing to sit in the dark pit of grief with me and didn't try to make it better, but rather shared my sorrow. I remember getting cards wishing me 'well' and 'better days ahead' and wanting to shred them. I didn't want to be better or feel better...I wanted to experience the depth of my sorrow...I think the best way to 'deal' with grief is to experience it for what it is. People who are willing to come alongside you during those times are the biggest gift, the only gift, in tragedy."
Source: http://www.clarity-chaos.com/2010/07/on-losing-baby.html

Finally, thank you to Glenda, for being that person for me.

11 July 2010

Anniversary Weekend

Bayfield, WI

Wow, what a great weekend! When it comes to making plans, I am generally the one to make them (per Chad's preference). For our 5th Anniversary, I decided Chad should take the lead, and I gave him pretty much free rein to plan our weekend. Aidan spent the weekend with his most wonderful parents, and off we went.First order of business was a big surprise for me: my first ever massage at Lori's in River Falls, WI. Next up, we pretended to be teenagers and saw Eclipse, which was essentially mindless fluff, but not bad (New Moon was still better, IMO). For dinner we had an excellent meal at Akita Sushi, in Woodbury (St. Paul?) MN before moving on to SOLO at the Southern Theatre. This was a special treat for me, as it's been years since I've seen a dance performance, and I quite enjoyed myself. By the time we got home, though, I was definitely ready for bed!

After sleeping in the next morning (thanks in no small part to the huge bowl of food we left out for the cats, so they wouldn't have to wake us up for their breakfast), we headed off to a VERY SECRET LOCATION. Secret, because I told Chad to surprise me. All I knew is we were driving north, so I assumed we'd end up somewhere on Lake Superior.We ended up at a charming Bed & Breakfast called the Apple Grove Inn in Bayfield, WI. We stayed in the Studio room which had a beautiful view of the grounds and also of Lake Superior.

Dinner was at the Portside Bar & Restaurant, where I had the most divine pan-seared scallops, and Chad had, in his words, "the best" ravioli he's EVER had (stuffed with blue crab!). I should have taken photos of all these lovely dishes, but honestly we were so starving that by the time the thought occurred to me, we were already halfway through our meal. BTW, have I mentioned, how excited I am that Wisconsin has followed in the wake of Minnesota and NYC to go SMOKE FREE?!?!

After dinner we took a stroll around Port Superior marina, drove around Bayfield looking at pretty houses, and then took an evening walk on the beach.

The following morning, after an excellent breakfast at Apple Grove, we packed up and headed to Hauser's Bayfiend Winery before starting the long drive home.

We had lunch in Shell Lake, WI at a new place called Lakeside (sorry, no link). They're an awesome sports bar with, according to Chad, the "right" kind of Cheese Curds. When we arrived the bartender was watching some western, so I promptly switched to the FIFA World Cup Final during our meal. So yes, if you were there and you saw the TVs, you have US to thank for that. We stayed until time ran out and the score was still 0:0, but could wait no longer before continuing home. I was happy to hear, from my beautiful Aunt Dulce, that Spain did win! They were my favorites after Brasil and Portugal got the boot, so I was glad they won.

The last part of our trip involved a wicked cool storm just north of Hammond. I failed to get a picture of the lightening, but I did get a good shot of the rain moving over the fields.


I think Chad definitely outdid himself, don't you?! Thank you, Love, for such a great weekend! <3

09 July 2010

Five Years Together


I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.


[By Roy Croft]