The only thing “normal” about the “new normal” is it isn’t new

I’m a high school teacher. I keep thinking: “God, I can’t imagine what it must feel like to grow up through this.” The insanity and cravenness of our politics. The drumbeat of daily disaster. The unraveling of social ties. 

Tonight I realized: Someone thought that about me. 

They must have. 

I’m the 9-11 generation. 

That was my first week of high school. 

The mother of one of my volleyball teammates knew one of the flight attendants who died. I remember thinking how unreal it must feel to be personally connected to a disaster like that.

To know one of the bodies.  

That disaster seemed too big, too profound, too far beyond every rule of civil society we thought existed. 

Continue reading “The only thing “normal” about the “new normal” is it isn’t new”

The election I lost

I have tried and tried to figure out what it must feel like to be Hillary Clinton, waiting for the dawn of this Inauguration Day. I will never fully be able to understand what it feels like to come that close to our highest, hardest glass ceiling and be viscerally reminded that our nation is not ready. I am trying to remind myself that our kids are ready. They do not understand why their leaders do not see that the world has already changed.

On the eve of Inauguration Day 2017, I want to tell the story of the election I lost.

 

This is not a story I tell very often.

 

It is long, and it is complicated, and it is fiercely personal in the way that only a campaign can be. An election campaign turns a candidate from a private figure into a public figure. For a first timer, the loss of privacy is jarring. For a first timer who had always chosen to remain on the press side of the press / government divide, the idea that my name, photo, and platform were to appear on the newspaper’s front page seemed like an absurdity.

 

I had always conceptualized the press as a behind-the-scenes role. One of my best friends, a fellow Tar Heel who I met in a seminar course on chaos theory our freshman year, had taken the opposite track. She served on Honor Court for years and then ran for Student Body President as an outsider, staffing her campaign with fellow intellectuals, most of whom had more or less avoided the Student Government scene while at Carolina, preferring to spend their time working for student-run nonprofits or think tanks rather than serving in Student Congress or the Executive Branch. She had to attend endless campaign forums, hosted by any student group with enough clout to demand an appearance from presidential candidates. I had to do one press conference (for the aforementioned front page printing of my platform). I remember it as one of the most awkward experiences of my life.

 

The Daily Tar Heel limited its Editor-in-Chief candidates to an 800-word platform. I remember this word limit because I stuck to it. My opponent did not.

Continue reading “The election I lost”

What We Talk About When We Talk About War

Some days I think all I have to do as a teacher is just get out of the way. Shine enough light into the darkness that kids can see their own brilliance. Or maybe tell enough truth about the world that students can see the darkness, and that’s when they discover their own inner light.

I’ve been struggling with this pervasive sense – on social media, in the mainstream media, in pop culture, in everyday discussions – that our country is at war with itself. Trump’s election win seems to be the culmination of a host of unsettling, depressing trends that have stoked fear, anger and anxiety. Those trends include (but are certainly not limited to):

 

-Hyperpolarization fueled by filtered news feeds and the rise of fake news

 

-Increasingly antagonistic partisan politics and the collapse of bipartisan political efforts (which fuels a collapse in our collective faith in the effectiveness of government institutions)

 

-Identity politics that sow divisiveness and reject unity / identity politics that raise issues Americans aren’t ready or willing to accept as reality and honestly discuss (the perception of that issue pretty much breaks down along party lines)

Continue reading “What We Talk About When We Talk About War”

In Honor of My Favorite Nasty Woman

To the highest, hardest glass ceiling – and those who cracked it

The poem below is an experiment in persona poetry. I love reading persona poetry (and using it to teach students about point of view), but sometimes I find writing persona poetry to be problematic. I think that’s because I’ve put so much time into reminding myself that we all have our own filters and therefore it’s nearly impossible to truly know another’s mind; writing in someone else’s voice can feel presumptuous. However, it is an excellent way to build empathy. Consider the following a paean  crossed with an elegy (although I’m reluctant to use that latter word, knowing her work is far from over).

 

Chelsea Clinton, on my mother

 

Remember that

     She sheltered me

And so did my father

When I was a kid

And they wanted me to be free

To be a kid,

Regardless of the color of my house

Continue reading “In Honor of My Favorite Nasty Woman”