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Showing posts from 2018

An Open Letter to Mark Barnes

Dear Mr. Barnes,


You are a bully. I know that in your recent blog post, you equated Doug Robertson to “the popular student” who gets others to yell without thinking about intent, but sir, that’s you. You have nearly 10 times the followers as Doug, and yet you continue to insist that you, head of a publishing company and former administrator, and Danny Steele, a principal, again with twice as many followers as Doug, are the outsiders in this situation. That you two are personally being attacked by a “poisonous” leader of a “mob” of thoughtless lemmings.



I take exception to this in many ways, but first, let’s explore why I italicized followers. Because, Mark, that’s what you see people as. You look at this number on social media and see yourself as a leader and all of us as followers. I don’t follow Doug Robertson, I am his friend. I’m lucky enough to know him and his family in real life: we’ve eaten meals together, I’ve played with his kids, and stayed in his spare room. He’s a generous …

What I learned from an active shooter drill

Today, after yet another school shooting, my school did its scheduled active shooter training. Here, in no particular order, are some of the things that I learned from the day.

1. I "missed my calling in law enforcement."
According to the police officers who were there, I missed out not going into law enforcement. I'm guessing that part of this is that I'm obscenely calm under pressure. Another part is my sheer size - I'm an intimidating person. And I'll be the third part is that I'm (and I'm quoting here) "a stone-cold, no-nonsense bitch." I hate that the statement makes me sound like The Trunchbull and that I don't have any feelings or love for kids, but today, in a drill, I made the police chief, who I know socially, slide his badge under the door before I'd let him unlock it, and I was fully ready to kneecap him if he came in the room without doing so. I'm not bragging or saying that's right, I'm just saying it for co…

When "love" isn't in your job description...

Every time I open up Blogger to write something, I'm confronted by this huge number of people who read my last post.

And every single time, I close the tab as fast as I can.

I don't want to see that number. Which is crazy, since, I mean, I write things so that people will read them. But it's so much pressure. Too much. These readers - they, well, they want something from me. Part of me is stubborn and says, "I'll write when I damn well feel like it." Part of me is desperate, itching to write about so many things. And part of me is scared - what if they don't like it...what if they think I'm a hack...what if they say awful things about me...what if...?

But then then yesterday, I saw a tweet:
Love isn't just what Teachers DO. Love is who Teachers ARE. There is nothing Students can do to cause Teachers to love them LESS and there is nothing Students can do to make Teachers love them MORE! #education#edchat — тσм ℓσυ∂ (@loudlearning) April 28, 2018

A List That Actually Matters

I sort of wanted to give this post a cutesy title, like "My Edu-Valentines," but I'm incredibly serious about this. Yesterday, two of my favorite people on the planet, people I like and admire, were included in an exceedingly disappointing list of inspirational educators. (excuse me, "educationists.") They were both livid.

As they should have been.

The list was lily white and lacking women. Most of the people were not actually teachers - which you know, makes them a lot less inspirational to those of us who spend our days surrounded with the bright future of the world. AND THEN, after being called out for the poor quality of the list, the author - who is not a teacher, but a "blogger and digital marketing biz" person and moderator of #GuruChats - about branding (of which I have many thoughts) - asked for suggestions to improve it.

Okay, the first one is do your homework, don't run an algorithm.

But then I took a couple of moments to scribble some …