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Zoom, Canaries, and the Virtual Village

Gli Orsetti Del Cuore Bordo Arcobaleno Cornice Foto Annuncio alla Classe.jpg

I rarely respond to requests from student journalists. See, the thing is, Journalism is hard in the best and most supportive of times. Journalism is frightening to engage in a state-controlled environment. (What is school journalism but journalism a state-controlled environment? Disagree? The Supreme Court says you are wrong.) And when the student is trying to write about a complicated and politically charged topic-- well, calling the situation frightening is probably not strong enough. It's dangerous.

In this case, I decided it was better to participate because I don't know. I guess I like to live dangerously. 

That being said, here's my canary in the coalmine. These are the responses I sent to the student journalist verbatim. I thought you all would enjoy reading them. Of course, if you come back later and these words have been replaced with reference to a dead canary, you can decide for yourself what's happened... I won't be able to tell you about it. 

 How do you feel about virtual learning?'

I love all learning. Virtual learning is still learning. Virtual learning is, in many ways, a better environment for learning for some people than in-class learning. So let's get that out of the way right out. Virtual learning is not a lesser or worse educational model; it's just different. Whether or not it's suitable for specific individuals is a different conversation, but on the whole, virtual learning is just another way of learning. 

The virtual learning environment is very similar to the creative professional environment I lived in before becoming a teacher. Co-operating with reluctant colleagues online was a huge part of my day-to-day work, and while that lifestyle isn't for everyone, it's very "real world." 

Dirty, Dirty, Canary.

Dirty, Dirty, Canary.

The fact that the entire world was able to spin up a flavor of virtual learning in the face of a pandemic is a testament to its power. Even 15 years ago, such a thing would not have been possible. Let's revel in the success of our virtual experiment, if only for the fact that it happened at all. 

Do you think that students have been using the resources provided to reach their greatest potential?

That's a question for the students. I mean, if you're rolling out of bed and smashing the zoom button on your phone while you sleep, you're not doing virtual school. As an at-home worker for a big part of my career, the mindset of "working" from home was something I had to cultivate. You can't just treat every day like a weekend when you work from home-- get up, take a shower, put on some clothes, have breakfast, and then sign in a few minutes before your shift starts to make sure you're ready to go when the meeting begins. That's a skill you can learn during virtual attendance, and I promise you, the mindset will change your game. 

I think, however, that this question hints at a larger conversation that would be more fruitful for the students: are you ok? Like, seriously. Are you ok? Because it's ok if you're not. Many of us aren't. 

See, the thing is, the whole thing was pretty traumatizing. For many of us, there was a genuine sense that the world was ending. In one way or another, many of us believed that this was the beginning of the end. Many of us thought that maybe, from now on, life was going to be little more than being trapped in my house (with my family!) and forever staring into my laptop screen, wishing for human contact. People lost loved ones, planned activities, rights of passage, freedom, and comfort. The pandemic came and took away celebrations and events, like senior sports seasons, the prom, and graduation. Or worse, it made celebrating those things feel "wrong' or "dirty." Those things were hard-fought and well earned, and they just went away. Every one of those losses is legitimate and real and creates a sense of vulnerability, whether you acknowledge it or not. See, the problem is, feelings are real-- even when they're based on falsehoods. 

I feel like the best way to move past those feelings is to acknowledge and name them and then move forward. If we pretend that this wasn't weird, scary, sad, upsetting, challenging, and bizarre, we're acting, not living authentically.  

What are your biggest challenges with doing everything over Zoom?

Technically, I’m a finch.

Technically, I’m a finch.

Zoom has its advantages over other virtual education systems. But any system is only as good as the effort teachers and students are willing to make at using it. I try to be conscious of the quality of my audio and video, I try to make sure I'm talking to the virtual students and the students in the room, but I understand that it's not an area of expertise everybody has. 

Virtual education isn't about "doing everything over Zoom," and I regret that you feel that way. Virtual education uses Zoom as a centralized way of teacher-to-student contact. Still, education, as I'm sure has been your experience outside of the virtual setting, is about more than just teacher-to-student contact. Zoom isn't an optimum platform for virtual education, but neither is any other single-source solution. Virtual education takes a virtual village.

See also my previous comments about celebrating that such an endeavor was possible at all, let alone thriving. 

Have you at any point thought, "If this is the future of learning and we won't go back to normal, will I continue to teach?" Why or why not?

Just a canary. Just hanging out . No big deal.

Just a canary. Just hanging out . No big deal.

I would be remiss as a former journalist and news editor if I didn't chastise you a bit about the leading nature of this question. If you are asking the question: Do you think blended learning environments are the way of the future?" I would say yes. I think blended learning environments are the way of the future. And why not? Staying connected to a classroom learning community through illness, relocation, and time away from school is advantageous to all students. Why would we stop making those services available to those who identify them as a way they prefer to learn? 

Chickens are good people #ChickenDad

This is a triumph. From their birthday on May 4 to June 6, these nearly 4-week old birds are my favorite effect of quarantine. There is always a silver lining, they say, and for me, the adventure of “enriching” the lives of these chickens has been a joy.

Here’s a collection of screenshots from the short video I took while taking them out of the outdoor coop and putting them back in their brooder for the night.

I am not keeping track of individual weights anymore (because it’s hard to tell them apart) but here’s a growth chart for the first four weeks of their growth.

Keep Going

I have loved this piece since I first discovered it on a compilation CD called “Tribal Legends”  that I checked out from the Wauwatosa Public Library.  The first time I heard it the hair on my arms stood up.  It was written by a man named Joseph M. Marshall III. And recorded by Joseph Fire Crow. And a copy of it is surprisingly hard to find. Youtube’s got your back, tho.

Marshal eventually turned the poem into a whole book that I rather liked. I’ve shared it before. I’m sharing it again today. May it bring you a small comfort. 

I’m rooting for you.

Keep going.  

The long way around

At approximately 11 a.m. on August 16, I became (officially) a 1.0 FTE Cross Categorial Teacher for the School District of Fort Atkinson. It's been in the works for a while, but I wanted to wait until I signed a contract to make it public.

Today I signed the contract.

It's a quicker-than-expected step on my road to full licensure; I'm still enroled in WiscEDU's fabulous 10SPED program, which is part of a Master's Degree I'm working toward at St. Mary's University in Minnesota.

I wanted to share my "Personal Statement" with you guys. I wrote this as part of my application to St. Mary's Master's program and submitted it to several local school districts as part of my ongoing job hunt.

I came to teaching the long way around.

In 1992, I enrolled at The University of Wisconsin at Whitewater with the intention of majoring in special education. I started reading the news on the college radio station, and I became enamored with the journalism school. I graduated, became a newspaper reporter, editor; I won some journalism awards. I left journalism for marketing; I became a PR spokesperson, and eventually the director of a marketing department with a $2 million annual budget. After 26 of years of success as a storyteller, both in journalism and business, I ended up back in special education-- working as a substitute teacher in my hometown.

It’s something of a calling. I’ve worked hard and gathered enough wisdom that I’m ready for it now. I used to tell myself that if I can help one marginalized kid find success at school, it will have all been worth it. I’ve helped more than one marginalized kid. I help marginalized kids all the time. My current students are better readers and better people than they were six months ago. This is important work.

It is, hands down, the most important work I have ever done.

I covered a small town’s reaction to the Sept. 11th attacks in 2001. I won awards for helping a community of seniors secure funding for their bus trips. I advocated and helped tell the stories of people with eating disorders, obsessive-compulsive disorders, and developmental and intellectual disabilities.  

But when one of my students smiles because he got his first passing grade in science, that is a magic moment. Not for me, but for him. He knows the taste of success, and the warm feeling of pride for a job well done. Sometimes, for the first time.

I am humbled and proud to have been a part of that student’s journey. Admission to your program would help me to continue to help students make more of these magic moments for themselves.   

With the appropriate training and licensure, there is no limit to the way I can help students help themselves.

This school year, I'll be teaching at Fort Atkinson High School, where I'll be a team teacher with 10th - 11th graders and managing a caseload of kids. I can't wait to get started.

Be the protagonist of the story

There was a guy, driving a beat up mid-sized sedan, who, racing down Western Avenue at dusk, sped up when he saw my wife and child crossing the street ahead of me. It was clear that he was speeding up. It was so clear.

The mama bear in me roared, and the tiger snarled, and the leopard got ready to pounce. THe man stopped his vehicle a few feet away and my girls scooted across the crosswalk to safety.

But I did not.

I held my ground.

I stood in the crosswalk and glared at the little man. I narrowed my eyes and lowered my center of gravity as the man rolled his car up to me and then stopped less than a foot from my shins. I stared at him through the windshield. I hefted the plastic bag of dog shit in my hand.

“Do you really want to do this?” he asks me.

“Do you?” I ask him.

The bag of dog shit is begging to be thrown. It’s begging. It is saying, have your revenge, thrown me at this guy, smash it all over his window, goad him into running you down. And then retire on the lawsuit.

It’s a good, baseball sized loaf of shit. I could easily wing it, side-armed, into the car. I’m thinking about it. I could hit this guy right in the face with a bag of shit. And then he would not be able to say “nobody has ever thrown a bag of shit at me” ever again in his life. He would always remember the day he got hit in the face by a bag of shit.

It would be an epic story.

"So, what’s it going to be?" asks the bag of shit. "Fight or flight?"

I’m pretty sure both of those end up with the bag of shit thrown at the car. I’m on to you bag of shit. You can’t trick me. 

In order to make up my mind, I used the whiteboard in my head and drew up a quick a list of pros and cons for throwing the shit.

  • Pro: I don’t have to carry this bag of shit anymore.
  • Con: I don’t like to litter.
  • Pro: But I could throw a bag of shit at a guy and be totally justified.  (*Bucket list!*)
  • Con: Possible jail time
  • Pro: When the driver tells the story about the time he got hit in the face by a bag of shit, he would make himself the hero of the story. He would tell the tale of an insane fat man who lept of the bushes and assaulted him with a 12-inch knife and two attack dogs. He’d talk about how he’d probably be dead if he hadn’t been able to escape thanks to his amazing driving skills.
  • Con: That sleaze doesn’t deserve a story that good.

So it's decided. I know that I cannot throw this bag of shit. I can only stand my ground. Legally in the crosswalk; mere feet away from being run down.  

But I want you to know this:  I didn't throw the bag of shit, not because it’s morally reprehensible, not because it’s unclean, and not because I don’t want to be the kind of person who throws a bag a shit at a guy. I don’t throw that bag of shit at that guy because I don’t want to give this guy a cool story. I don’t want to make this guy the hero of his dumb existence. I don’t want him, ever, under any circumstances, to feel like somehow he was the bigger or better person. I want him to be the kind of a guy who speeds up when he sees a child and a stroller cross the street in front of him because that’s who he is. He’s not a victim of a morning-zoo style crime blotter story. He’s a slime of a human who had an impulse to kill a child and her little dog and acted on it. Because he was in a hurry.

I take a step forward. I can feel the heat coming off his car now. I issue a demand. “Slow down,” I say.

“We can’t see you!” his wife, or girlfriend, or ugly mistress or whatever, shouts from the passenger seat. “You’re wearing black, and have a black stroller, and are walking in the street.” Because somehow, it’s always the victim’s fault. Because somehow, darkness justifies running a child down.

I step out of the way. The man pulls forward. I am now face-to-face with the woman and her open window.

"This is it!" shouts the bag of shit. "This is your last chance. You could hit that woman right in the face with a spicy bag of dog shit, and it would be so good." It would be so good. And I would probably get on the tonight show. The bag of shit is so right.

But I am not the antagonist of this story. I am not the dangerous lunatic on the street. I am not the kind of person who throws dog shit on people. I used to be. I might still be. Sometimes I probably am.  But that night, I was not.

 I take a step back toward the car, and I reissue my demand: “Slow down.”

The man steps on his accelerator. His engine sputters and moans and propels him and the woman away. I am left standing in the street, adrenaline pumping and surging. And there is nothing that I can do.

Nothing.

I will have to become ok with that I did not get to punish or change those horrible people. I will have to become ok with the fact that somehow, they are going to go on with their life, and probably never give this incident another thought, and if they do at all it will be as a justification for why people shouldn’t wear black at night.

I will have to hope that they're better than that. 

I hope that, maybe, just maybe, the next time they’re driving too fast on a dark street, they will slow down.  I really, truly, genuinely believe that they might. And that is the gift I have given them. I have made a way for them to become better people. All they have to do is act on it.

I am the protagonist of this story.

OUT OF OFFICE.

I haven't been too busy to blog; I've been out of the office. 

This is a very small a sample of the 3000 or so photos from this trip. 

This is a very small a sample of the 3000 or so photos from this trip. 

Truth is, after I got done with my work at the orgnaization that I shall not discuss publically (hereafter refered to as the OTISHDP), I took a vacation with my family.

We did that thing. You did it with your familiy. I did it with mine when I was little. Now Gaia's done it with hers. We drove to Devil's Tower and back.

It was a crazy trip. And I'm busy writing about it. I love traveling with my family. I have stories and pictures and drawings. But in the itnerim, here's some great videos that Google Photos made automatically.

Becuase, as much as I rage against robots, sometimes they do cool things for you.

I'll post a few more to hold you over while I write my travelogue.

Conversations with Phil.

Hey, everybody. Gabe here. I just wanted to start this piece off with an important note. This post has nothing to do with "Conversations with Phil," the incredible podcast made by my old buddy Phil Gerbyshak.
Phil Gerbyshak is a human being that I know, and he is entertaining and thoughtful. This post is about my ongoing passive-aggressive battle with robots.

I am currently "on the market" for jobs, so to speak. And as a result, I get a lot of email from recruiters. But one particular recruiter is very special to me. And I want to tell you more about him. 

Meet Phil. 

On Feb. 24, Phil, who is a recruiter with a primary placement agency sent me a job so new that not many people had applied for it yet. I dutifully clicked on the link, and sadly, the job was so new that there was no job there at all, just an ugly 404 Page Not Found error.

So I shot Phil back a message. "Hey Phil, your Robot sent me a garbage link."

Phil replied almost immediately. "Thanks so much for reaching out. Here are a billion links, none of which respond to your message. But feel free to call or write support."

"Talk Soon!" Phil wrote. Seriously. The email message says "Talk Soon!" Phil, whose email signature implies he's located in Santa Monica, Californa, thinks that he and I are going to "talk." And "soon."

"Phil, your robot wasn't super helpful," I said.

Phill did not reply. It would not be the first time I would be disappointed in my conversations with Phil.

Feb. 27th.

Phil writes to let me know that "he wanted to reach out" and let me know that he's aware of a job I applied for and that there are other jobs that are kind-of vaguely like that one, and if I click the 1-click apply button he'll go ahead and submit my application. That's super thoughtful Phil. Thanks, buddy.

And the tone of this email is so different than his previous emails. He might actually be a person.

I decided I had better ask..

Phil does not respond.

March 11th.

Phill writes again. I get a lot of email from Phil. I've received 27 emails from Phil in the past 25 days. This email, though, This email is different. This email is to an obviously scammy multi-level marketing company that has little to nothing to do with the kind of jobs I would consider.

I've had it. I'm sorry, Phil. But I have to say something. "Stop sending me multi-level marketing jobs. We both know you're a better recruiter than that, Phil."

Now I feel bad; I don't mean to chastise Phil. He's probably a real person; he's got a quota to meet. "Send me your picture,"]I add. See! I'm not a jerk. I should add more. "Are you human? Let's be friends."

Phil responds almost immediately. I've seen it all before. Blah blah blah, "Talk Soon."

Yeah.

Talk soon, buddy.

Sure.

March 14

Phill found a job that he thinks lines up with my resume. "It's new, so they don't have many candidates yet..." I can't take it anymore. I know Phil is a human being, in my heart, I know this. But as I man of science, I must know for sure. I MUST DETERMINE FOR ONCE AND FOR ALL! ARE YOU A MAN OR A MACHINE, PHIL? WHICH IS IT?

That message was sent 38 minutes ago. And Phil has not yet responded.

Have I gone too far? Did my casual application of the Liars Paradox break the Phil robot? Have I killed him? Phil? Are you still out there buddy?

Oh god.

What have I done?