Salon_Ed. Agenda
March 29, 2009
2-4 p.m.
River Rouge High School
1460 Coolidge Hwy
River Rouge, MI 48218
(313) 297-9615
Collette’s cell: 313-522-5726
1. Review goals and purpose of Salon_Ed.
2. Overview of ReelWC ( Wayne County’s chapter of Michigan Film Initiative)
3. CISV (Children’s International Summer Village) proposal for IPP summer program in 2010
4. Michigan 826 (Michigan’s version of Dave Eggers writing program Valencia 826)
5. Red River Project Rick Manor’s proposal/vision for bringing the arts to River Rouge
6. Plan date for business meeting. Set agenda for a May Salon_Ed.
7. Dinner to follow
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Jamar is Dead
Thank you for being here. I don't know where else to go with this.
Nineteen year old Jamar Taylor is dead. He died last night of a single gunshot to his head. Don't bother looking for it in the paper, it isn't there. Today, I was called to the Livonia Skills Center (job training center for handicapped students), where he attended, to assist in the crisis intervention. Almost immediately, I found that I was the one who wound up working with a group of 8 young adults who were his closest friends. These were students from Inkster, Westland, Livonia, and other northwest suburbs, all with some form of handicapping condition, and the finest human beings I have met in a long time. I have never felt more effective as a psychologist than I did today, as we explored the aspects of grief, self-soothing, finding support and comfort, remebering Jamar, and addressing the issues of regrieving their many life losses (of which there were very very many). I discovered that these were people who had lives I could never imagine, and I thought I had seen it all. Only half of them were living with their families of origin and had someone they lived with from whom they could seek comfort. But, and this was a huge but, they were there for each other. Their support and love was absent of sophistication and self-interest. It was open and honest and concrete, and the insight about the realities of life was astounding. They found this support in the context of school. That is something very right about schools.
I spent the day listening to these children, the victims of poverty and racism, and heard first hand what it feels like. They told me that because it happened in Inkster, the shooter will never be arrested because the police will give up within a week. The police don't care, and can't protect anyone. The students also know that they, themselves can find out who did it, and they want to get revenge. They explained that in their community, taking the law into your own hands is much more effective than waiting for police to prevail. The police will never find out who did it, even though everyone in the community knows. The code of silence is too strong. It is because of fear. If someone tells, then they, too will be shot. No one will protect the person who tells. "It is OK to go to jail if you get revenge because your future isn't worth shit anyway".
On my way home, I realized that I am probably naively fearless, because I have never known fear in my home or community. I have never been an innocent victim. Today, I crashed into a world I intellectually knew about, but never fully appreciated. I'm struggling tonight. I know I am richer for this experience, but needing a lot more.
Nineteen year old Jamar Taylor is dead. He died last night of a single gunshot to his head. Don't bother looking for it in the paper, it isn't there. Today, I was called to the Livonia Skills Center (job training center for handicapped students), where he attended, to assist in the crisis intervention. Almost immediately, I found that I was the one who wound up working with a group of 8 young adults who were his closest friends. These were students from Inkster, Westland, Livonia, and other northwest suburbs, all with some form of handicapping condition, and the finest human beings I have met in a long time. I have never felt more effective as a psychologist than I did today, as we explored the aspects of grief, self-soothing, finding support and comfort, remebering Jamar, and addressing the issues of regrieving their many life losses (of which there were very very many). I discovered that these were people who had lives I could never imagine, and I thought I had seen it all. Only half of them were living with their families of origin and had someone they lived with from whom they could seek comfort. But, and this was a huge but, they were there for each other. Their support and love was absent of sophistication and self-interest. It was open and honest and concrete, and the insight about the realities of life was astounding. They found this support in the context of school. That is something very right about schools.
I spent the day listening to these children, the victims of poverty and racism, and heard first hand what it feels like. They told me that because it happened in Inkster, the shooter will never be arrested because the police will give up within a week. The police don't care, and can't protect anyone. The students also know that they, themselves can find out who did it, and they want to get revenge. They explained that in their community, taking the law into your own hands is much more effective than waiting for police to prevail. The police will never find out who did it, even though everyone in the community knows. The code of silence is too strong. It is because of fear. If someone tells, then they, too will be shot. No one will protect the person who tells. "It is OK to go to jail if you get revenge because your future isn't worth shit anyway".
On my way home, I realized that I am probably naively fearless, because I have never known fear in my home or community. I have never been an innocent victim. Today, I crashed into a world I intellectually knew about, but never fully appreciated. I'm struggling tonight. I know I am richer for this experience, but needing a lot more.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
So Who is the Smartest in the Room?
Everyone knows the setting and how my/our students get to us at the day treatment facility, IEPT etc. Most young folks who end up with us have some kind of back story and it is often horrific. A Dickens story of neglect, abuse coupled with some learning issues and typically some really negative school experiences. No magic fairy tales here.
I must be the sorceress turn the key, welcome the student back into the fold of learners. I need to conjure some born again event to seduce them away from their anxiety and fears.
I have a bag of tricks that I use in efforts to access the “shut down” student. If they have “quit” the system I must first figure how to get them back on board.
Recently I got a new student. She at 10 is so much herself. She wears animal prints and wears her hair like a curtain that she peeks from behind. She is lovely, but ever more so as she is the only girl in a testosterone filled habitat.
Oppositional or defiant are words that have been used to describe her school behavior. When she first showed up in my class she refused to write even a sentence or glance at a book. Of course if she wins she loses. So I must win. “Pick any book you want for your chapter book.” I said. She found nothing to her liking. In frustration (yes mine) I tossed her some fairy tale about a princess who was cursed with obedience. At first she balked but came to love the book. Feat accomplished! Until of course I asked her to move on to our next activity. Tears and temper followed. So we struck a deal, 20 minutes of class work and she earns 8 minutes of her book. And through some enchantment is eased into learning. Or perhaps the obeying character if her book inspires her to obey.
I call her to my desk for a side bar, so I can check more books out from the library. “What do you like?” I inquire. In a whispery, embarrassed voice she tells me “I am a computer geek” She is already in a dynamic vibrant learning environment where she has been working on learning Japanese. She can say, “Mustache” She has somehow gleaned information about the catacombs of Paris. She is the new self made man, learning what stirs her, traveling to what beckons her. This is what she hides behind the silken sheen of her hair.
Today I asked each child to write on their purpose. At first she refused then pleaded with me not to have her read it aloud or tell anyone what her purpose is. I acquiesced. She trusted me with her aspirations of purpose. I looked at her heavy penciled script. ” My purpose is to let people know that everyone is different” That is her purpose.
Me, what can I ever do for this dearest of souls if I ask her to check herself and her skills and her story at the school door.
I must be the sorceress turn the key, welcome the student back into the fold of learners. I need to conjure some born again event to seduce them away from their anxiety and fears.
I have a bag of tricks that I use in efforts to access the “shut down” student. If they have “quit” the system I must first figure how to get them back on board.
Recently I got a new student. She at 10 is so much herself. She wears animal prints and wears her hair like a curtain that she peeks from behind. She is lovely, but ever more so as she is the only girl in a testosterone filled habitat.
Oppositional or defiant are words that have been used to describe her school behavior. When she first showed up in my class she refused to write even a sentence or glance at a book. Of course if she wins she loses. So I must win. “Pick any book you want for your chapter book.” I said. She found nothing to her liking. In frustration (yes mine) I tossed her some fairy tale about a princess who was cursed with obedience. At first she balked but came to love the book. Feat accomplished! Until of course I asked her to move on to our next activity. Tears and temper followed. So we struck a deal, 20 minutes of class work and she earns 8 minutes of her book. And through some enchantment is eased into learning. Or perhaps the obeying character if her book inspires her to obey.
I call her to my desk for a side bar, so I can check more books out from the library. “What do you like?” I inquire. In a whispery, embarrassed voice she tells me “I am a computer geek” She is already in a dynamic vibrant learning environment where she has been working on learning Japanese. She can say, “Mustache” She has somehow gleaned information about the catacombs of Paris. She is the new self made man, learning what stirs her, traveling to what beckons her. This is what she hides behind the silken sheen of her hair.
Today I asked each child to write on their purpose. At first she refused then pleaded with me not to have her read it aloud or tell anyone what her purpose is. I acquiesced. She trusted me with her aspirations of purpose. I looked at her heavy penciled script. ” My purpose is to let people know that everyone is different” That is her purpose.
Me, what can I ever do for this dearest of souls if I ask her to check herself and her skills and her story at the school door.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Margaret Among Us
I have never, in all my many years in my career, ever felt so alive, so energized, or so creative. I can't sleep because I am thinking and dreaming. I gulp my food at the pace of my thoughts (not good for digestion).
Remember when we were in college? Is there any one of us who didn't dream of starting our own schools, or changing the ways of reaching kids? We entered the job market, and most of us hit the brick wall at full tilt. As burned out and ineffective as many of us have felt, that dream inside of us never died. And now, at the seemingly end of my career, it is coming to life. I could lament about the timing, but there is no time for that. Better late than never.
I am already feeling the impact of this group in my job. I am consulting with teachers differently, working with kids differently, seeing new projects, and loving it more than ever. Thank you all for your energy. I can't wait for the next meeting.
I have always loved the Margaret Mead quote, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." How true.
If you like Margaret Mead, here are some more pertinent quotes. I think she is with us in spirit:
"Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else."
"Thanks to television, for the very first time, the young are seeing history being made before it is censored by their elders."
"I must admit that I personally measure success in terms of the contributions an individual makes to her or his fellow human beings."
"I was wise enough to never grow up while fooling most people into believing I had."
"If we are to achieve a richer culture, rich in contrasting values, we must recognize the whole gamut of human potentialities, and so weave a less arbitrary social fabric, one in which each diverse human gift will find a fitting place."
"Instead of being presented with stereotypes of age, sex, color, class, or religion, children must have the opportunity to learn that within each range, some people are loathsome, and some are delightful."
"Instead of needing lots of children, we need high-quality children."
"It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the regrets into old age."
"It may be necessary temporarily to accept a lesser evil, but one must never label a necessary evil as good."
"Nobody has ever before asked the nuclear family to live all by itself in a box the way we do. With no relatives, no support, we've put it in an impossible situation."
"One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night."
"We are now at a point where we must educate our children in what no one knew yesterday, and prepare our schools for what no one knows yet."
"The city is a place where there is no need to wait for next week to get the answer to a question, to taste the food of any country, to find new voices to listen to and familiar ones to listen to again."
Remember when we were in college? Is there any one of us who didn't dream of starting our own schools, or changing the ways of reaching kids? We entered the job market, and most of us hit the brick wall at full tilt. As burned out and ineffective as many of us have felt, that dream inside of us never died. And now, at the seemingly end of my career, it is coming to life. I could lament about the timing, but there is no time for that. Better late than never.
I am already feeling the impact of this group in my job. I am consulting with teachers differently, working with kids differently, seeing new projects, and loving it more than ever. Thank you all for your energy. I can't wait for the next meeting.
I have always loved the Margaret Mead quote, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." How true.
If you like Margaret Mead, here are some more pertinent quotes. I think she is with us in spirit:
"Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else."
"Thanks to television, for the very first time, the young are seeing history being made before it is censored by their elders."
"I must admit that I personally measure success in terms of the contributions an individual makes to her or his fellow human beings."
"I was wise enough to never grow up while fooling most people into believing I had."
"If we are to achieve a richer culture, rich in contrasting values, we must recognize the whole gamut of human potentialities, and so weave a less arbitrary social fabric, one in which each diverse human gift will find a fitting place."
"Instead of being presented with stereotypes of age, sex, color, class, or religion, children must have the opportunity to learn that within each range, some people are loathsome, and some are delightful."
"Instead of needing lots of children, we need high-quality children."
"It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the regrets into old age."
"It may be necessary temporarily to accept a lesser evil, but one must never label a necessary evil as good."
"Nobody has ever before asked the nuclear family to live all by itself in a box the way we do. With no relatives, no support, we've put it in an impossible situation."
"One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night."
"We are now at a point where we must educate our children in what no one knew yesterday, and prepare our schools for what no one knows yet."
"The city is a place where there is no need to wait for next week to get the answer to a question, to taste the food of any country, to find new voices to listen to and familiar ones to listen to again."
Monday, March 9, 2009
We've come so far...or have we?
Every so often I have the rare opportunity to pick up my son from pre-school. I'm greeted by teachers with huge smiles, they all say hello-how's your day. The kids are running around laughing, every so often crying (over a much wanted toy). As we leave, Rowan's teacher comes over with some pictures he drew and gives him a hug, she tells him she'll see him on Friday. The other day I got a phone call that he wasn't feeling very well, and that most of all he wanted to talk to me. So I quickly left and went to get him. It wasn't an emergency, but the teachers knew something was wrong-they are close enough to him to pick up a very small difference in his mood...loving enough to call and tell me.
In High School I hear teachers telling kids to pull up their pants, get off their phones, go to the office.
Where's your homework? They are sick of telling the same kids to put their coats away, irritated that there are more "low" kids in their classes. Kids fighting, girls crying, big circles of boys around the ones who are fighting. Do they know that one kid's mom abandoned him when he was 6 weeks old? Do they know that her dad is an alcoholic? No...that's the counselor's job to find that out. How could they with 130 kids? They barely have time to get to know one.
I think that we are the problem. I don't care how many kids I have, or what I have to teach...I won't ever forget that I have a human being sitting in front of me.
In High School I hear teachers telling kids to pull up their pants, get off their phones, go to the office.
Where's your homework? They are sick of telling the same kids to put their coats away, irritated that there are more "low" kids in their classes. Kids fighting, girls crying, big circles of boys around the ones who are fighting. Do they know that one kid's mom abandoned him when he was 6 weeks old? Do they know that her dad is an alcoholic? No...that's the counselor's job to find that out. How could they with 130 kids? They barely have time to get to know one.
I think that we are the problem. I don't care how many kids I have, or what I have to teach...I won't ever forget that I have a human being sitting in front of me.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Voice=Vison
Is it Collusion or Collegiality?
Coroline is a book about a feisty young girl whose family is dismissive and unappreciative of her. They have become immune to her needs and demands. She longs for acknowledgement and validation. She craves a family that regards her, embraces her essence. Through a magic portal door she is mystically transported to a parallel universe. She has her own parents, but not exactly. They are seemingly warm and charming. They are the parents she has dreamed. All is well. All is mostly the same, just slightly askew. Coroline is ecstatic until it becomes apparent that she may have her fantasy family but only by becoming their Steppford child, by allowing her parallel parents to co-opt her power.
A teacher friend entered the rabbit hole of a parallel universe recently when she attempted to take her young class on a field trip to see the movie Coroline.Having read this fantasy book to her students, squeezing each chapter between the delineated curriculums. She had prepared her mental legal brief in the event that her lesson plans or judgment be questioned. She had created the rationale for her deviating from the proscribed text etc. She could quote how this curricular choice supported each child’s individual goals and moved them in the direction of AYP (government jargon for Adequate Yearly Progress) In other words this master teacher had done her homework
She also knew the promotional blitz for the movie had peaked her student’s interest. She had selected this text not only as it affirmed strong female voice, but the fact it was coming out as a movie had primed student’s interest. The best thing of all though is that it could connect the students to the big idea that movies came from print. First it was an idea, then a book now it is a contemporary fairy tale on celluloid. Writing and reading are now magic somehow.
Being a master teacher and a wise woman, she understood the interior lives of children. She knew that all children have orphan moments, where in a fit of anger they wish there parents away and like Alice dream another world. What really draws us in to reading, to the story is our ability to revisit and redefine our own universe.
The students in this class had been placed there by an IEPT (further jargon for Individual Educational Planning Team) All of these students had been certified Severely Emotionally Impaired. This teacher knew the students to be akin to the immigrants’ welcomed by stanza chiseled on the Statue of Liberty. Give me your tired; your poor… these young souls had been battered to the core. They had learning issues, attention issues, stressed families and back stories that could keep Dr. Phil and Montel in business forever. Fragile wee things that had lost their power and had no voice. Behaviors were their primary repertoire of communication. They would bolt from school, toss furniture; spew profanities in effort to communicate their despair and sorrow. They had ceased to dream and dared not hope.
This “special” school sits in a parched field, in a neighborhood that if it is not a slum it is a ghetto of poverty. They arrive here when the local district exhausts it’s intervention. Or as a stepping stone back to the local school from the hospital. And the litany can go on.
But my friend, she is a master teacher. She has peeked behind their spinning eyes. They do not dream and have ceased to hope.
She knows that each screech or bristly behavior is a reaction to living in their own askew world.
The Coroline story brushes past the students mask. Coroline’s bold nature emboldens them to dream again. Perhaps it is the littlest of dreams; perhaps we can run away from school for an afternoon and see a movie. The book has sparked their spirit to life.
Master teacher writes a proposal for money …CBI (surely the Community Based Instruction money can finance the trip.)
Master teacher follows the proper protocol, jumps through the hoops and submits her request to the principal’s mailbox. It sits dormant, no reply. Days pass. The bright eyes have begun to glaze over with dashed hopes, perhaps again I risked to dream.
Do not go to sleep. She wants them awake to books, awake to this spunky heroine. As a master teacher she thinks, I will channel their angst; I will uphold the curriculum as well. We shall practice letter writing. So each of the little people laboriously in scratchy print writes a letter to the principal. “Dear principal, can we pleeze go see Coroline?”, the letters voice reminiscent of the letters they wrote a few months earlier to Santa.
Excitedly they leave them in the principal s mailbox. Now master teacher has captivated the principal’s attention.
She is called to the office and the principal scolds master teacher for putting the students in the middle. The principal fails to hear the letters as the children’s dreamy aspirations, but she seems to perceive the letters as a chastisement to her ennui in responding.
Master teacher has not followed protocol. Has she gotten team approval? Is the book part of our basal curriculum? The hoops are now rings of fire. Now master teacher must jump higher and more fiercely. She may exhaust herself and cease to dream. Or perhaps she can get button eyes. Blind herself, quell herself, so she will be held in regard…
So how does this story end?
Coroline is not a malleable being. Roger Ebert says “Coroline is unpleasant and suggest she deserved to be sent down the tunnel.” So it is with the master teacher, perhaps she deserves this rabbit hole. Perhaps she should ask for less. She has the same conundrum as her child heroine. Coroline will be allowed to remain and receive the affections of her parallel family if she gives up her eyes and replaces them with buttons. But alas she must collude in her own blindness to remain… whatever… whatever shall one do?
Coroline is a book about a feisty young girl whose family is dismissive and unappreciative of her. They have become immune to her needs and demands. She longs for acknowledgement and validation. She craves a family that regards her, embraces her essence. Through a magic portal door she is mystically transported to a parallel universe. She has her own parents, but not exactly. They are seemingly warm and charming. They are the parents she has dreamed. All is well. All is mostly the same, just slightly askew. Coroline is ecstatic until it becomes apparent that she may have her fantasy family but only by becoming their Steppford child, by allowing her parallel parents to co-opt her power.
A teacher friend entered the rabbit hole of a parallel universe recently when she attempted to take her young class on a field trip to see the movie Coroline.Having read this fantasy book to her students, squeezing each chapter between the delineated curriculums. She had prepared her mental legal brief in the event that her lesson plans or judgment be questioned. She had created the rationale for her deviating from the proscribed text etc. She could quote how this curricular choice supported each child’s individual goals and moved them in the direction of AYP (government jargon for Adequate Yearly Progress) In other words this master teacher had done her homework
She also knew the promotional blitz for the movie had peaked her student’s interest. She had selected this text not only as it affirmed strong female voice, but the fact it was coming out as a movie had primed student’s interest. The best thing of all though is that it could connect the students to the big idea that movies came from print. First it was an idea, then a book now it is a contemporary fairy tale on celluloid. Writing and reading are now magic somehow.
Being a master teacher and a wise woman, she understood the interior lives of children. She knew that all children have orphan moments, where in a fit of anger they wish there parents away and like Alice dream another world. What really draws us in to reading, to the story is our ability to revisit and redefine our own universe.
The students in this class had been placed there by an IEPT (further jargon for Individual Educational Planning Team) All of these students had been certified Severely Emotionally Impaired. This teacher knew the students to be akin to the immigrants’ welcomed by stanza chiseled on the Statue of Liberty. Give me your tired; your poor… these young souls had been battered to the core. They had learning issues, attention issues, stressed families and back stories that could keep Dr. Phil and Montel in business forever. Fragile wee things that had lost their power and had no voice. Behaviors were their primary repertoire of communication. They would bolt from school, toss furniture; spew profanities in effort to communicate their despair and sorrow. They had ceased to dream and dared not hope.
This “special” school sits in a parched field, in a neighborhood that if it is not a slum it is a ghetto of poverty. They arrive here when the local district exhausts it’s intervention. Or as a stepping stone back to the local school from the hospital. And the litany can go on.
But my friend, she is a master teacher. She has peeked behind their spinning eyes. They do not dream and have ceased to hope.
She knows that each screech or bristly behavior is a reaction to living in their own askew world.
The Coroline story brushes past the students mask. Coroline’s bold nature emboldens them to dream again. Perhaps it is the littlest of dreams; perhaps we can run away from school for an afternoon and see a movie. The book has sparked their spirit to life.
Master teacher writes a proposal for money …CBI (surely the Community Based Instruction money can finance the trip.)
Master teacher follows the proper protocol, jumps through the hoops and submits her request to the principal’s mailbox. It sits dormant, no reply. Days pass. The bright eyes have begun to glaze over with dashed hopes, perhaps again I risked to dream.
Do not go to sleep. She wants them awake to books, awake to this spunky heroine. As a master teacher she thinks, I will channel their angst; I will uphold the curriculum as well. We shall practice letter writing. So each of the little people laboriously in scratchy print writes a letter to the principal. “Dear principal, can we pleeze go see Coroline?”, the letters voice reminiscent of the letters they wrote a few months earlier to Santa.
Excitedly they leave them in the principal s mailbox. Now master teacher has captivated the principal’s attention.
She is called to the office and the principal scolds master teacher for putting the students in the middle. The principal fails to hear the letters as the children’s dreamy aspirations, but she seems to perceive the letters as a chastisement to her ennui in responding.
Master teacher has not followed protocol. Has she gotten team approval? Is the book part of our basal curriculum? The hoops are now rings of fire. Now master teacher must jump higher and more fiercely. She may exhaust herself and cease to dream. Or perhaps she can get button eyes. Blind herself, quell herself, so she will be held in regard…
So how does this story end?
Coroline is not a malleable being. Roger Ebert says “Coroline is unpleasant and suggest she deserved to be sent down the tunnel.” So it is with the master teacher, perhaps she deserves this rabbit hole. Perhaps she should ask for less. She has the same conundrum as her child heroine. Coroline will be allowed to remain and receive the affections of her parallel family if she gives up her eyes and replaces them with buttons. But alas she must collude in her own blindness to remain… whatever… whatever shall one do?
The Process
Salon_Ed.
March 8, 2009
So a quiet week it seems. Yet some new thoughts percolating out there, more of a to do list for this concept, to strengthen the structure. So the ideas of the week are:
1. To create or build something along the lines of Teach America or build on Teach America so that it attends to creative life skills as well as academic skills.
2. Made a connection to the Movie Initiative and a meeting is in the works between Rouge/Salon_Ed and Michigan’s Movie Initiative
3. Changed the domain of Salon_Ed to a .org so that it is more user friendly and accessible
4. Developed an agenda for meeting of March 29th. Focus will be visions that are in the works that can be brought to Rouge by 2010.
5. Took a field trip to Rouge and networked in the community.
March 8, 2009
So a quiet week it seems. Yet some new thoughts percolating out there, more of a to do list for this concept, to strengthen the structure. So the ideas of the week are:
1. To create or build something along the lines of Teach America or build on Teach America so that it attends to creative life skills as well as academic skills.
2. Made a connection to the Movie Initiative and a meeting is in the works between Rouge/Salon_Ed and Michigan’s Movie Initiative
3. Changed the domain of Salon_Ed to a .org so that it is more user friendly and accessible
4. Developed an agenda for meeting of March 29th. Focus will be visions that are in the works that can be brought to Rouge by 2010.
5. Took a field trip to Rouge and networked in the community.
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