One Hundred Years Ago: The Power of The Great War Lives On

What were you doing during the June of your 19^th year?  Excited to be finished your first year of University/college?  Looking forward to the beach and the bar – finally able to get a drink without lying about your age?  Pining over your first love?  Falling into your first love?

One hundred years ago yesterday, in the June of his 19^th year, Gavril Princip succeeded where others had failed - he gunned down the dour Franz Ferdinand and his beloved Sophie Chotek as they drove past his post at the Soho café, situated in a narrow side street in Sarajevo. 

This frustrated, disgruntled teenager decided that he would, along with three of his associates from the Black Hand nationalist organization, take the future of his people into his own hands.  He wanted to free his people at any cost.

The arrogant, aristocrat had to die.  Ferdinand had to act as a symbol to all other nations  - other would be oppressors of Serbia – that Princip’s tiny country would no longer be pushed around. Princip made a statement, and in so doing, dragged the entire planet across the threshold into the modern age…the age of terror and destruction and death.  The age of shell shock and machine guns and gas.  The age of poetry and paintings and photographs.

We are, as a species, forever changed by this war.  It made us bitter and cynical in a way that did not exist prior to the Great War.  Of course humans have been critical and questioning of leadership prior to this time, but it was not institutionalized until now.  Questioning authority based on the observation of its wholesale failure was not fashionable or necessary until now. Raging against the machine did not come at so high a price until now.

Millions of beautiful, talented, brilliant young men were sacrificed, on both sides, to feed the militaristic/imperialistic machinations of countries, of kings, of gamblers whose arrogance and ignorance blinded them to the realities of the battlefield and politics, geography and psychology, public opinion and private disgust.

The Great War created, as T.S. Eliot observed, a wasteland of corpses, souls, and societies.  It created a junk yard on the poppy-filled fields of France.  It created a hole in our collective psyches, our collective unconscious, our genetic memories.  We have felt the pain through our ancestors’ photos, letters, and diaries.  We make pilgrimage to those poppy-filled, corpse-filled fields of France to find our beloved ancestors buried, nameless, with millions of others.

We stare at the Great War from the wrong end of a spy glass – it seems so very far away and yet, when we put the glass down, we realize it has been within our arm’s reach all along.  We have been afraid to reach out and touch it once more, afraid to re-ignite the memories, afraid to be shell-shocked all over again.

Charles Hamilton Sorley

John  McCrea

Isaac Rosenberg

Ivor Gurney

When we stand among the ghosts of Sorley’s “…millions of the mouthless dead…” few of us even remember them anymore, outside of the day on which the Armistice was celebrated.  Few of us remember that they were once someone’s son, father, husband, brother, lover.  Few of us hold McCrea’s torch, remembering to not “…break faith with us who die…” so that the dead may finally sleep.  Few of us, outside of academia, remember the pain of Rosenberg’s isolation, Gurney’s madness, Graves’s aloofness, Owen’s sensitivity, Sorley’s irreverence, Brooke’s beauty, or Sassoon’s rebellion.  Their words, visions, and resignation barely reach us now outside of Oxford Poetry collections or literature classes.  They are given to us like prescriptions rather than gifts or balms.

Robert Graves

Wilfred Owen

Siegfried Sassoon

Rupert Brooke

Over the next four years, and after, let us take the time to research and acquaint ourselves with at least one warrior…one soldier…one poet we did not know before.

When we read their work, tell their stories, say their names, we breathe life into them once more.  We let them live through us.  Given the weight of their sacrifice, do we not owe them at least that?

So begins my continued homage to the Fallen of the Great War.

Blessed Be all of their names.

“…they shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”  (from For the Fallen  by Laurence Binyon)

Laurence Binyon

One Hundred Years Ago Today

So many remembrances of the assassination of Franz Ferdinand have been tossed out there today that I run the risk of disappearing into the snow storm of words.  I am not afraid of storms, so into the drifts I go.

When people take a closer look at the event – the assassination and the “run up” to the event – one can see that, really, based on the innumerable coincidences, synchronicities, and concurrences, the Great War was bound to happen, Franz Ferdinand was destined to be shot, and the 28^th of June had to be the day.

THE MAN

Franz Ferdinand, the heir presumptive to the Austro-Hungarian empire, was a direct descendant of Maximillian the Great, the ruler of the Holy Roman Empire.  No one seemed to want the throne in the A-H empire.  Franz’s cousin was to inherit but committed suicide, his father was next in line but immediately passed the responsibility onto Franz.  He stood to hold the seat of the empire in 1896 after the passing of his uncle.  He became the Emperor of Austria, the King of Hungary and much, much more.  He became the richest man in Europe.

And he gave it all up for love.

Who knew?  Ferdinand was not a schmoozer, a people pleaser in an age when diplomacy was the newest means of solving or preventing international crises.  Ferdinand did not suffer fools.  He has been described as brutal, stubborn, impatient, and oppositional.  He did not feel the need to reach out and “make nice” with other leaders.  He was an unapologetic, conservative Austrian who wanted a pure Austrian race without the influence of Germany or any other nation (sound familiar?).

He attended a royal ball in Prague in 1894 – two years prior to his “inheritance” – and his whole world changed.  His eyes fell upon the beautiful Sophie Chotek, the Duchess of Hohenberg; a woman from a prominent Bohemian aristocratic family.  He fell in love immediately and proceeded to plan to marry Sophie.  She was, as a lady in waiting to the duchess Isabella, considered a “commoner” by the royals of the Hapsburgs and they were forbidden to marry.  In fact, Ferdinand was expected to marry the sister of the woman for whom Sophie worked.

 Ferdinand’s legendary stubbornness kicked in and he refused to marry anyone else. It was a royal scandal.  So much so that the only member of the royal family who agreed to attend the wedding was Ferdinand’s step-grandmother, everyone else refused to attend the wedding.

On June 28, 1900, Franz Ferdinand married his beloved Sophie Chotek…only after agreeing to several conditions by the Hapsburg family:

1.  Sophie, or any children born from the marriage, did not have any claim to the throne

2.  Sophie was forbidden from sharing any of Ferdinand’s rank or royal priviledges

3.  Sophie was not allowed to be next to Ferdinand in public

4.  Sophie was not allowed to ride next to Ferdinand in the royal carriage or sit next to him in the royal box at the theatre or Opera.

IN OTHER WORDS:

-Ferdinand was forced – expected – to treat the woman he loved as a dirty secret, as someone the family was ashamed of

-Sophie was not viewed as one of the family

-When the royal family entered a room, Sophie was forced to enter last.

This was simply not going to happen as far as Ferdinand was concerned.  He had to find a loop hole so that Sophie, and any children born of them, would be entitled to Ferdinand’s power and riches.  Ferdinand was made the field marshal and Inspector General of the Austro-Hungarian army.  This position allowed Ferdinand to shower his beloved with the entitlements he felt she deserved.

The Austro-Hungarian people believed that all of the controversy around the royal couple was bad luck and would bring a curse on the Hapsburg house and onto the country.

SYNCHRONICITY #1: 

THE DATE:  June 28

For Ferdinand, June 28 represented the day he stood against his family for the woman he loved.

June 28^th also has powerful historical significance for the man who shot Franz Ferdinand and his beloved Sophie that Sunday afternoon in Sarajevo. 

To unpack that, let’s take a look at a brief political history of Serbia.

SERBIA, BOSNIA, AND THE 28^TH OF JUNE:  WHY DI D SERBIA WANT FERDINAND DEAD?

Serbia had been struggling for independence for centuries.  They had lived under the oppression of the Ottoman Empire as long as any Serbian could remember and all they wanted was to crawl out from under the thumb of foreign oppressors.  They also wanted to create a country called Greater Serbia which would pull together Serbs from Yugoslavia, Bosnia, Hungary, and other countries in the Balkans with people of Serbian ancestry. 

The most militant Serbians organized to create The Black Hand and use force, if necessary to free themselves from the clutches of foreign oppressors.  In fact, only a year prior to the assassination, in 1913, the Serbs had just been at war with the Turks yet again in the Second Balkan War. 

Serbia found itself in a giant game of international chess – a mere pawn in the game of kings - and was “given” to the Austro-Hungarian Empire as an appeasement a generation earlier. 

The lack of consideration for Serbian autonomy, of course, did not sit well with Serbian nationalists and became the battle cry for radicalised young Serbians in the years leading up to June 28, 1914.  The Black Hand vowed to embarrass the Austro-Hungarian sympathizers in their government and assassinate as many foreign leaders as they could.  These assassinations would show the world that The Black Hand was not weak and was not to be trifled with.

When the members of the Black Hand learned that Franz Ferdinand was coming to Sarajevo on the 28^th of June, 1914 to inspect the army’s summer manoeuvres, they had to strike.  For them, the 28^th of June marked the anniversary of the Turks defeat of the Serbian forces and their long history of suffering and oppression at the hands of foreign rulers. 

They warned him not to come – and especially not to bring his wife.  If he chose to not heed the warnings, he would suffer dire consequences.

So, June 28^th acts a point of rebellion and pride for both parties:  for Ferdinand it was about his wedding anniversary, rebelling against his family, and showing this group of "nobodies" that he was not weak.  For the Serbians, the Black Hand, it was about rebelling against their oppressors, showing Austro-Hungary that they were not to be dismissed.  Both parties were “dug in.”

OTHER “COINCIDENCES” (or it’s all just part of the plan):

1.  On the way to Sarajevo, Ferdinand’s car, the car he would die in, overheated.  They almost didn't make it there.

2.  At the last minute, Ferdinand and Sophie were given a “new” driver – one who did not know the original driving route to the stops en route to the barracks.

This famous picture of Ferdinand and Sophie walking down the steps of the home of Sarajevo’s mayor, is taken a few minutes after the first attempt was made on their lives.  A bomb was thrown at the car, missed, and injured someone else when it exploded.  The picture is taken as they are getting back into the car on the way to go to the hospital to visit the person injured in the explosion. 

In a little under ten minutes after that picture was taken, they were both dead.

Gavril Princip, a 19 year old member of the Black Hand, was the only assassin to succeed that day.  There had been three of them.

3.  The new driver made a mistake in direction and was forced to turn around.  He pulled onto the street where the Soho café was located and, because the road was too narrow to allow him to fully turn around, he had to stop in front of the café.  That’s when Princip saw the royal couple, walked out to the open car, and shot Sophie in the abdomen and then shot Ferdinand in the neck.

4.  The license plate of the car in which the royal couple died, also has some mystique around it.  According to legend, the plate number AIII 1 18 was interpreted to predict the end of the Great War on the day it began:  A(rmistice day)  II (11) 11 (11) 18 – November 11, 1918.  Hmm.  Interesting at least.

5.  There is even word of a curse on the car itself.  Legends abound that some of the subsequent owners of the car met with untimely deaths:

·         a doctor crushed on a highway

·         a racing driver thrown over a stone wall

·         a farmer killed while being towed

·         a crash on the way to a wedding.

·         No wonder the car is said to be cursed.

·         There is some doubt over the veracity of the death stories, but the license plate has been matched with photographs from 1914 and is definitely, amazingly true.

So many coincidences.  So many emotional connections to the day.  Add that to the fact that when the threat of war was made in retaliation of Ferdinand’s death, no one wanted to call anyone else’s bluff.  The war machine was too heavy to stop.

The rest, as they say, is history.

I am a Support Teacher

Started my own version of “This is my strike pay,” for my blog because I don’t Twat on Twitter, then I realized that I really need to clarify what it is I actually do as an educational professional in this province and how the lockout, in particular, has impacted the lives of the kids I work with.

I am a support teacher, case manager, mentor teacher, what ever you want to call it.  How ever you wanna label it, I support coded kids (mostly with behaviour codings in category “R,” “H,” or “D” – mostly boys) with a history of extremely challenging behaviours in and out of school.

My kids are the ones you always see in the office, on top of the school, scrolling graffiti on the buildings. 

My kids are the ones in fights, in detention, in the counselling office. 

My kids are on meds, on drugs, on video doing something less than legal. 

My kids are in Youth Diversion, on Youth Agreements, working with Youth Care workers. 

My kids are constantly on the “Potential Failures” list, the “No Fly” list, the School Based Team list.

My kids are fosters, adopted, abandoned.

My kids are the last ones in class and the first to leave.

My kids are the ones every teacher tries to ignore when the kid is present but is the first one noticed when the kid is absent.

My kids walk the longest road with the shortest tempers.

My kids are bullet proof and vulnerable, brilliant, beautiful, passionate, ferociously loyal and protective.

My kids are over-looked and under rated.

My kids are in care and out of patience for all of the time they spend on two or three year waiting lists to see psychologists, psychiatrists, paediatricians, dentists, doctors….the list is endless.

To be bluntly honest, I have found a handful of people in my profession, or others, who have the strength of character, patience, or stomach for punishment required to work with My kids. 

To be bluntly honest, some days I can barely manage.

The job of a support teacher is brutal on two prongs:  (1) the weight of the paper work has the potential to bury you and (2) the weight of the stories of the kids has the potential to psychologically cripple you.

(1)  The paper work and the job requirements:

Support teachers/case managers liaise between professionals in and out of the school buildings, meet with all manner of doctors, social workers, law enforcement, and other community members.  We do so to make plans for kids to be used in and out of the school building so that the kid has the greatest chance at success.

We try to meet with classroom teachers and help them understand and support the learning, psychological, and life needs of each kid on our case load – and even kids who are not “coded” …the kids who just need someone to watch out for them.

We are advocates, mediators, warriors for kids who have no one.

This is a list of our monthly duties as provided to us by Student Support Services.  We support teachers made the list to help the brave people who venture into this line of work without a clue as to what their responsibilities will be.

Please feel free to just skim through the infinite list of jobs.  

As you flip through this list, please also keep in mind that many of us ALSO TEACH CURRICULUM IN ADAPTED “SATELLITE CLASSES” OR OFF THE “SIDES” OF OUR DESKS…SOMETIMES BETWEEN 5-10 COURSES PER PERIOD:

Key of abbreviations:

IEP:  Individual Education Plan:  maps out for support and classroom teachers the specific learning needs of the student and suggested strategies/adaptations/modifications (academic/social-emotional/physical/behavioural) which will help the student be successful in the course/class

CT:  Classroom Teacher

ST:  Support Teacher

ICM:  Integrated Case Management Meeting – meetings for kids in care or with outside agency involvement:  mental health care providers, law enforcement, MCFD personnel, etc.

G4:  Confidential “red” file for storing documentation of students with ministry designations.

SECONDARY SUPPORT PLANNING TIMELINE

SEPTEMBER

 Work with administration to assign targeted SEA support to students

receiving Personal Development hours

 As soon as possible get timetables finalized for students on your caseload

 Share “profile” information with classroom teachers

 Develop marking criteria, in consultation with classroom teacher, for those students enrolled in modified courses

 Review currently identified students with school psychologist and make any necessary coding changes

 Complete file review for new students and identify needs

 Discuss with school psychologist any new students who may require district/ministry

identification

 Review existing Ministry 1701 caseload and documentation for your school – Report all additions and deletions to k two weeks before the end of September in order to meet Ministry of Education deadlines

 Initiate School Based Team (SBT) meetings

 Invite psychologist to regularly attend SBT meetings to discuss student needs

 Start collaborative planning for IEPs and ICMs

 Identify students who require safety plans, review existing plans and update if necessary

 Schedule IEP input meetings and collaboratively write IEPs; provide parents and student with a copy

 Set BC Screening Deadline is this month-C. will email deadline date

for submissions

 New/Nearly New Teacher Mentoring meeting

 Investigate and register for professional development/conferences

 Ongoing:

 New students to school; read file

 SBT:

 Review student progress, attendance, etc.

 New referrals for consideration

 Following pre-referral discussions, prioritize students for district assessments (Psych Ed, SLP, OT, PT) and SET BC

 Psychologist meetings:

 Pre-referral discussions

 Changes in coding discussions

 Initiate meetings with teachers/SEAs re. data collection (Low Incidence) and IEP goals

 Send IEP Cover Sheet to SSS on IEP anniversary date

OCTOBER

 Continue collaborative planning and IEP meetings

 Establish regular meetings with SEAs to collaborate about student(s) needs

 Complete ‘Adjudication List’, (available from school psychologist), for students on your caseload in grades 9–12 requiring exam adaptations

 Provincial Pro-D Day

 Ongoing: (See September)

NOVEMBER

 Report Cards sent home

 Participate in parent/teacher interviews, progress reports on IEPs

 Set BC Screening Deadline is this month-C. will email deadline date

for submissions

 Ongoing: (See September)

DECEMBER

 Second Screening for SET BC

 Meet with school psychologist to discuss ‘Adjudication List’ and fill out ‘Request for

Exam Adjudication’ form with school psychologist. At this meeting, any updated

assessment needs will be determined. Please bring the following to the meeting:

 Student files (G4 and red confidential file)

 Current IEP

 Completed Adjudication List

 Ongoing: (See September)

JANUARY

 Review existing Ministry 1701 identified student list with administration –

Report all additions and deletions to k. in order to meet Ministry of Education deadlines

 Follow through on school psychologist recommendations as recorded on the

‘Request for Exam Adjudication’ form

 Ongoing: (See September)

FEBRUARY

 Follow through on school psychologist recommendations as recorded on the ‘Request for Exam Adjudication’ form

 Schools complete ‘Students Receiving Adaptation for Grades 10/11 and 12 Exams’ form (available from your school psychologist). Fax completed form to … before reporting deadlines: For June exams, the reporting deadlines can be found in the Graduation Handbook or ask your school psychologist

 Submit snapshot of students returning for an additional year

 Ongoing: (See September)

MARCH

 Adjudication reporting deadline for June provincial exams (the reporting deadlines can

be found in the Graduation Handbook or ask your school psychologist)

 Begin planning for elementary school transitions (visits, course planning forms);

check Risk Assessments/Safety Plans

 Report Cards/Conferences/review & revise IEP goals (if needed)

 Set BC Screening Deadline is this month-C. will email deadline date

for submissions

 End of month: Check that you have received the list of incoming grade 7 students

from DEO

 Ongoing: (See September)

APRIL

 End of first week: Transition forms will arrive from elementary feeder schools

 Personal Development forms due (contact SSS for due date)

 Continue transition/placement meetings. Use this opportunity to connect with the

CT, ST and/or SEA working with any incoming grade 7 students identified with special needs

 Begin department planning for returning and new students (caseloads, support block

assignments, etc.)

 Begin adjudication process for grade 8 students (confer with school psychologist)

 Ongoing: (See September)

MAY

 Assist students/families with course selection and form completion.

 Begin setting up adjudication schedule for provincial and final exams.

 Last opportunity for district referrals

 Finish placement/transition planning meetings for new students.

 End of Month: Begin conferencing with teachers/SEAs re. IEP reports

 Ongoing: (See September)

JUNE

 Work with Administration to adjust and finalize timetables of identified students, for next school year

 IEP reviews/meetings/input/planning for next year

 Finalize adjudication schedule for final exams and provincial exams

 Report Cards

 Filing updates with current information, IEP Reports, ICM Reports, etc.

 Develop “profile” information to share with classroom teachers

 Prioritize students for LA support (returning and new students)

 Review files/assessment information for new students; identify needs

 Review existing Ministry 1701 caseload and documentation for your school –

Report all additions and deletions to k. and update all information in Red file

 **************************************************************

Have you tapped out yet?

And….this is just the list for case managers.  I am the head of the SPED/Support department, I have another 50 jobs added on to the list you just flipped through.

Tapped out *yet*?

Just a little FYI:  when I was locked out of School Based Team meetings and Integrated Case Management meetings, when those meetings were cancelled, the kids most profoundly impacted were not the kids on the academic stars list (sometimes but not usually).  The kids most impacted were My kids…the kids who have been most neglected and ignored by this government in the first place.  Trying to wrap up the year has been a nightmare.  The kids who are suffering the most because of this lockout are the kids who always suffer the most.  Nice work Christy Clark and company!

(2) The stories/lives of My kids:

This part of the job is bitter sweet and will take WAY too much time to detail here.  In fact, I tried to share that in the first incarnation of this blog but was asked to remove the content.

The emotional/psychological weight of this job will get its own post.  The stories to which I witness deserve to be separated from the bureaucratic minutia of the list above.

The above list is soul crushing; my relationships with my kids are uplifting.

So this is a shout out to my fellow support teachers/case managers who have been punished the most by this job action.  We will survive.  If we can survive ministry audits – this is a cake walk.

Stay strong.

And if you know a case manager – buy them a coffee…or…whatever.  These days they really need it.

My Love Affair With Teaching.

I have come to learn in my life that during times like these, times of strife and conflict and tension; when you stand on the edge of something and realize that there is a very real possibility that things may not work out the way you envisioned that you begin to evaluate how badly you want that thing/place/job in the first place. 

You know those times:  you get into a bidding war on a house you fell in love with after no one else had wanted it forever.  You apply for a job which will require you to make a number of changes to your life (location/skills/lifestyle) and someone else could potentially get that job.  You are staring down the barrel of a breakup – the relationship is disintegrating fast and it wasn’t even your idea.

During these times you evaluate the value of that person/job/place and check in to see if, indeed, this is really what you want for yourself. 

In the face of current battles between teachers and the government, I have done just that.  I have evaluated the value of my role in this profession and have done some soul searching around whether or not I have the guts to stick it out or if I should just pack it in and find something else to do that is neither so stressful nor so undervalued. 

Reflection on this issue has brought up many memories for me – memories of my love affair with teaching.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to do two things when I grew up:  acting and teaching.

I would practice speeches in front of my mirror (any mirror, really) thanking the academy for giving me this most prestigious award (yes, I really did talk like that…have you met Dante?)  I would say words just to hear the sound of them and pretended that I was going to make brilliant speeches because my speaking voice was so amazing…yes, I was a humble child.

I used hair brushes for microphones and I would sing and make speeches and was determined that I was going to be an unstoppable force in the entertainment industry. I played dress up, I listened to and learned several dialects so that I could “pull voices” when ever I wanted to. 

I was six years old when I performed in my first play and I loved it.  I hated memorizing the lines but I loved the stage stuff.  I got laughs (not inappropriately…laughs in the right spots) and I received many accolades.  I felt pretty darn good about my little self.

Then, somewhere along the line, my dad picked up an old desk or something that was very like a desk and my sister began to play school in the basement of our house.  She got a chalk board from Santa that year so we had a chalk board, chalk, and a desk.   We had left over scribblers from the year before, we had some old readers that had found their way into our house.  We had big red pencils, pencil crayons, and the ever important red pen for the person who got to play the teacher. 

I always wanted to be the teacher.  I’m not sure if it was the power of the red pen which I found so seductive or the fact that I would get to stand before my “class” (which usually consisted of my sister, our life sized doll Lucy, a big pink dog named Cinnamon, and an assortment of ratty-tatty stuffed animals) and teach…that was almost like acting.  You had an audience and you got to say stuff in front of them.  You even got to use different voices while reading stories…at least if you were a really good teacher you did.  Not only that, you also got to determine which answers were right and which ones were wrong. And, you got to note all of that “rightness” and “wrongness” with the beautiful red pen.

In my class, all of the students were perfectly behaved, except my sister…I think that was fortuitous, really…she was a little shit disturber in school.  My sister would always act up and want to be sent to the office so she could get out of spelling tests – again, fortuitous.

In my class, all of the students were perfect.  Cinnamon’s parents were still together, Lucy’s mom wasn’t addicted to drugs, and even those ratty-tatty stuffed animals came from great homes.  No one went hungry.  No one had parents die before they graduated.  No one had to decide whether to quit school and have a baby or not.

                        …all of this miles away from the reality I face every day with my real students.

My school was perfect.

In a few years I would be in high school and taking a drama class, auditioning for Grease, and becoming the only grade 10 (junior in my senior high) to get a role as one of the Pink Ladies, Jan.

That was all it took.  I was a theatre rat from that point on.  I went on to get a BFA in Theatre, major in acting and…

                                                            ….met someone in my Astronomy class in the second semester of my first year and ended up staring down the barrel of one of those life changing decisions.  I had already moved from Regina to Victoria and now the whole acting thing seemed rather silly…that’s what everyone around me said…so I needed a “back up plan” … a “real job.” The guy I followed out here was going to be a teacher.

Hey!  I could totally do that!  I could have a whole drawer full of red pens if I wanted! 

Then I volunteered for my first high school class to get the hours needed as a pre-requ. to get into the teaching program at UVic.

I volunteered and fell head over heels in love with it.  The kids were great. The other teachers were great.  And I got to go in that most sacred of all holy places…the staff room (I didn’t at first, though because I really felt that was only for “real” teachers).

Immediately the “troubled” kids found me.  Immediately we were going for coffee, talking about life, and I was making suggestions for them to seek out counseling help.  Immediately I knew that I wanted to do this forever.  I wanted to be a somebody to kids who had nobody.

Much later I came to realize that in my own life, teachers were the ones who saved me, who made me feel like I was part of a community – which was HUGE for me because of my family’s transience as a result of following construction work.  I was rarely in the same place for more than a couple of years…one year I changed schools three times.

Teachers hooked me up with all of the best kids to play with, the best places to hang out, and the best books.  They took me under their wings, were compassionate, caring, and gave me hugs when I really needed it.

One memory stands out for me and has for 40 years or more.  I was in grade one.  We had just moved to Calgary from Regina.  I had, as all little girls do, fallen in love with my wonderful Kindergarten teacher Mrs. McMorris.  She was an angel, as far as I was concerned.  She was kind, she was gentle, and she read with many voices (as all good teachers do).  She was the best.

I was crushed when I learned that we had to move…oh, no!  Mrs. McMorris would be lost to me forever!  I cried all the way to Calgary.  I played sad records on my portable record player and I cried and cried…my little heart was completely broken.

As I got older I grew to absolutely loathe the first day at the new school.  Even if it was September, I hated it.  I hated being the new kid, I hated not knowing anyone, I hated having to make new friends.

So, first day of new school in Calgary – January just after Xmas break – and I am walking down the hall to my new classroom.  I just wanted to cry or throw up.  I did neither.  At one point I was sure that someone called my name.  I kept walking.  I knew it was my name being called…but who here knew it?

When I turned around I looked upon the beautiful face of my beloved Kindergarten teacher…my beloved Mrs. McMorris.  I still get tears in my eyes thinking about that day.  I knew that the world was going to be ok because my angel found me…followed me.  She would protect me and make sure that everything was going to be fine.

We were only in that part of Calgary for a couple of months before we moved again.  I think I was only there until the end of the year.  Then I had to move away from her again.

Thinking back on the times when I felt most hopeless and disconnected, I see that there was always a teacher or professor who made me feel like I had a voice, that I was talented in something, and that I had a great deal to offer the world.

Thinking back on those times I realize that my life has been saved by teachers. 

The most significant people in my life, while I was growing up, were teachers.

I guess it’s not much of a coincidence that I found my way here.  I guess it was inevitable, really.

All of this strife and arguing and fighting with the government, the hate from sections of the public who have no idea what I do, and the misrepresentation in the media have all played a part in forcing me to reconsider my career. 

Do I *really* want to keep doing this?

Then I think about that little girl, all those years ago, running down the hall to hug her teacher and I realize that all I want to do is be *that* teacher for kids like me;  I realize that ignorance will always be there; and I realize that, for me, there is nothing else.

I really love this job. 

I gotta stick with it. 

Number 5 in the Family Series: Dante's Perspective

So now it’s Dante’s turn.

He is probably the most philosophical of all of us.  He is a very deep thinker, very sensitive, and is profoundly affected by all that goes on in his environment.

He is, however, kinda out of touch with the political ins and outs of all of this “government/teacher stuff.”  He admits it.

Dante’s input had to be obtained in a very different method from his brother and sister.  I interviewed him and recorded his feedback on my phone and transcribed the conversation. 

Why did he not just write something like his brother and sister did?  He’s 11, after all…what’s with the helicopter parenting?

Dante has an undiagnosed learning disability. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, “doesn’t everyone’s kid who is too lazy to write?”

                        -A phrase often spoken by people who don’t understand learning disabilities. And I understand learning disabilities…it’s a huge part of my job.  In fact, my experience in spotting undiagnosed L.D caused me to look into my own son’s learning struggles.

Dante is verbally gifted but struggles with what we in the biz call “written output.”  You have seen his work right here on this blog.  I included a sample of his work from two years ago on my first family series entry.  There is no mistaking his talent with words, and his learning disability.

For all of the obvious signs, I can’t get him a coding (ministry designation) in the school district in which he attends school because there are only two district psychologists for the entire district.  The cuts have been so severe that there are only TWO SCHOOL PSYCHOLOGISTS FOR THE ENTIRE DISTRICT!!!!!!!!! 

*That* frustration is for its own blog post.

Now onto Dante’s interview:  my questions will be in regular font and Dante’s answers will be in italics.

How many kids are in your class this year, do you know?

30.  It just keeps getting worse, every class I’m in.  It’s noisier and everything.

What about library?  Do you have a librarian at your school?

Yeah.

Do you get to be in the library on a regular basis?

Every Tuesday, we have, like and hour or a half an hour. 

Isn’t it true that your school only has one box of chalk for the entire school for the teachers to use?

Yeah, I heard an announcement: “return the box of chalk because everybody needs it.”

That’s crazy.

What’s it like having a teacher for a parent?

Um…normal, I guess.  I don’t know it’s much different.  It’s just a job.  Everybody has stories about their job.  Some more than others, like being a teacher you have to put up with a bunch of stuff.

Oh, yeah?  Like what?  What do we have to put up with?

I don’t know, a bunch of random stuff sometimes…random stuff at random times, sometimes and sometimes everything is connected.

What have you thought about missing all that school for rotating strikes?  Do you care?

Do I care about missing school?

Yeah.

Honestly, I’d rather be at home… hanging out with you and dad…obviously.  But I know it’s bad that, um, it’s bad that the teachers are on strike but I like not having that much school because, honestly, I’d rather be at home, doing something I actually like…and  that interests me.  But if I had M. as a teacher, I would like school much, much more.

Oh yeah?  Why is that?

Because he is very interesting and he likes the same stuff that I like and we’re so much alike and that’s the only reason I would like school more is because it would actually be interesting… not that school isn’t already interesting, but you know what I mean.

Yeah.

Sometimes it’s really boring…most of the time.

So you’re saying if you have a teacher you know and like then they make things more interesting because you are more interested in what they have to say because you like them as a person?

Yeah. 

What do you think would happen if the government, took away codings – a way to let teachers know how to help kids?

That would suck. 

Like, let’s say I couldn’t give your teachers your little profile that we give them in the beginning of the year and you always say “it’s time to have *that* conversation with my teacher…” about how you learn and stuff.  What if I wasn’t allowed to do that.

That would suck….epic.

Why?

Because people wouldn’t understand you and they won’t know how to teach you, or work with you, or connect to you and it’s just useless.  If they can’t do that then they can’t successfully do their job.

Gotcha.  So before we started doing that, this is way back, what was it like for you in a classroom?

Honestly, I don’t remember.  You probably remember more than me.  I know you are not me and can’t speak for me but…you know what I mean.

Yeah, that was a long time ago.  All you remember is teachers working with us to let us do the thing where I scribe for you and stuff.  Does that help you?

When you scribe for me?

Yeah.

100 per cent. 

What if teachers weren’t allowed to do that anymore?

Is it ever going to be like that?

I hope not.

It probably won’t.

What about your support teacher?

I don’t have that any more.

Why?

 I don’t know.  I assumed I just didn’t need one any more. I mean, it’s nice to get out of class and hang out with people.

Now you get to hang out with your Aboriginal support teacher, right?

Yeah.  It’s also really good because I get out of math.  I hate it so much.

What would you say to people who say that teachers are lazy…

That is just not true.

…they say we are lazy because we don’t work in summer…

That’s not true…there is summer school. You do summer school all the time…well, every second year and I don’t know much about it but I do know that teachers are not actually lazy because I’ve been around a lot of bad teachers and a lot of great teachers and I know they are not lazy.

I don’t know if the bad teachers and great teachers have any thing to do with it but I know you very rarely find a lazy teacher.  You *can’t* be lazy when you are a teacher. You always have work.  You always have files or report cards or read-ups you need to do on people so it’s impossible for a teacher to be lazy because you are not allowed to be.

Do you think teachers make that much money compared to the work we do?

No.  You should make more.

Yeah?  Why is that?

It’s just that you deserve more because, like, people don’t know what you have to deal with…not saying that the kids are bad, per se, but I’m not saying just the bad things but…like mentally ill people…and people that need help…you know what I mean?

Teachers are just a bunch of…teaching is just a bunch of careers mashed up into one than just, you know, teaching…like counselling and all this.

So we do more than just teaching…

You *have to* do more than just teaching…

Is that what makes a good teacher is that they do more than just teaching? 

Most teachers have to do more than just teaching.  If you want to be a really nice,

and/or good teacher, you should definitely do more than just teach.  You should help people when they are feeling bad or when there is something wrong at their house, and they can’t talk to anyone, you should make them talk to you. 

I dunno, that’s just what I think because I know that’s what you do and I assume that you are a good teacher…which you are, so…

 

What about sometimes I come home and I don’t have a lot of patience for you…

That makes sense…

 do you think that is just part of the deal or….?

I think it makes sense that you don’t have patience because you have to deal with…especially when I don’ t want to do my homework…because you have to deal with kids that don’t wanna do stuff all day, every day, so…

You seemed really upset when I said that people think teachers are lazy…

Yeah, I hear that on the radio a lot.  It makes no sense.  How can people not “get” teachers?  It makes no sense.

What if Christy Clark came to your school for a visit and she asked you how she was doing in education.  What would you say?

What she was doing to education or how she was doing?

Like how could she improve education?

How she could improve?  (he laughs)  Just get someone new…just don’t be there any more…just leave.

(laugh) Just quit!

Yeah!  That’s the only way to solve her problems…just quit.

The only way to solve the problems between the teachers and the government is if she quit?

Mhmm.

Why?

Because she just naturally sucks.  She is terrible to teachers and they don’t deserve it.  Teachers are great people…well…I’m going to say most teachers are great people because I have been around many terrible teachers…but most teachers are great people who don’t deserve that.  And I don’t think they deserve the crap they have to put up with with her. 

They have to put up with enough stuff…and not “put up with” like they don’t want to do this, I’m saying “put up with” in a good way.  They have to put up with stuff, it’s not like they don’t want to, they want to help people and that’s good because you should want to help people. 

How would you make school better?

Um….oh…um….

…have more teachers like you because it would be more fun and, you know, cool.  Just have a whole school of you and M. and of course your friends cuz I know you only hang out with good teachers. 

What would you say to teachers to make them feel better about all of this stuff?  What would you say to the teachers you like?  Like, M?

I don’t know.  I probably wouldn’t talk about it.  I would try to take his mind off it all by playing Heroclix or something.  Just don’t bring it up.

So, there you go.  Wisdom from an 11 year old boy.  He doesn’t really know what’s going on but he knows that Christy Clark needs to quit and we need to do what we like to get our minds off all of this nonsense…like Heroclix…or whatever your favourite thing is.

Good advice.

So take it, Christy, and quit.  J

Number 4 In the Family Series: My Husband's Perspective

(I love this pic of Dal...the badass in the hoodie.)

Here it is...the truth we are afraid to hear.  

For my teacher friends, these are the insights we are always afraid to ask for from our spouses:  what's it like to be married to a teacher?  What do they really think about our dedication to our kids and our job?

This is my husband's view of what I do.  

It greeted me this morning at the coffee maker.

My beloved is a brilliant writer - better than I am, I dare say, so I will stop here and let him "speak" for himself:

We have all had that one teacher.

That one who was phoning it in.

That one who picked on us & made us feel stupid.

That one who should have found another profession years ago but they were sticking it out for the vacation time, pension, sense of power, or some other reason that they would not admit.

We think about that teacher.

We colour our view of all educators in the same shade as that teacher.

We constantly believe that our children are in the presence of that teacher & they are doing to them what they did to us.

Just to let you know …

My wife is not that teacher.

My wife is a passionate & present person.

My wife draws in those who have been damaged by their home lives & the system to attempt to get them the counselling that they ought to have.

My wife fights against apathy, bureaucracy, wilful ignorance, & sometimes the children, themselves, to empower kids & their families with the schooling they so richly deserve.

She is on call for children & parents who wish to voice their concerns or air their grievances.

She has opened her home on weekends for students who have been so overcome by their lives that formal education is no longer a priority in an attempt to get them back into school.

She takes care of those who need it the most when others feel that they deserve it the least.

Do I think that she is a saint?

No.

I have watched her struggle over the years against administration, other teachers, students, & her own personal issues to the point where I thought she was, in plain terms, a masochist.

Plus, anyone who has heard her talk knows that she is no saint.

Do I think that she is infallible?

No.

Being fervent & loving can result in a feverish disposition; sometimes, less than tactful.  She owns her mistakes.

Do I think that she is right?

Yes.

In terms of a righteous fury, a justified warrior, she is the one you want on your side, fighting for you, struggling for your child.

I am a private man.

I was hesitant to write this article.

I enjoy the solitude of my home life & dislike strangers in my sphere.

I find there are times that her patience has been spent at school & there is little to give at home.

I wish there were periods she would disconnect from the turmoil of others to focus on the serenity within herself.

When I see the difference she makes in other people’s lives, I understand why she does what she does.

When I see how she gives people the opportunity to better themselves, I realize that the sacrifices that I must make in my home to accommodate her plan are, at best, minor.

When I see how she loves to help, I feel like I should do more.

Just to let you know …

My wife is not that teacher.

My wife is a teacher.