Just wanted to write a quick post to my followers and readers to wish you a very Merry Christmas. If you celebrate something else, enjoy that day as well! Not sure what 2020 will bring in life and on this blog but I can only hope things change for the better.
Enjoy your family and friends and share the love with everyone you see. This should be all year long but I will settle for the reason for the season.
Sorry I don’t have a crazy Christmas story this year. I’ll try to double up next year!
It wouldn’t be Christmas without U2’s Bono rocking out to this Darlene Love original!
Once upon a time, in the not-so-magical land of Dover, a meeting took place. It was one of those back-door meetings that the ruler of the state liked to convene. These were not public meetings in the sense that anyone could attend. They were usually those of the secret sort where only a select few were invited to attend. But because the Governor was attending, he felt obligated to report it on his public schedule. He did this sometimes in an effort to show an illusion of transparency.
In attendance were Governor Carney, Senator David Sokola, State Rep. Earl Jaques, Delaware Secretary of Education Dr. Susan Bunting, Dr. Paul Herdman from Rodel, and Betsy DeVos, the United States Secretary of Education.
It was Christmas Eve and all through the Woodburn the stockings were hung near the space heater with care. Carney put on his favorite Christmas album on his new record player. He loved the songs from his youth and they were all included on “Rudolph and Friends”. The eggnog was passed around to the attendees. Little did they know two others were also in attendance… of a sort.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done any type of shuffle on this blog. Lots going on at a personal level. But even with all that, music is still my healing mechanism. Once Thanksgiving rolls around, I start getting into the holiday spirit. One of the first places I go to is to music. This year is no exception. This Christmas will hold many firsts for me. And I’m okay with that. So tonight, I am putting aside all the angst and rhetoric that goes along with this blog and focusing on music. Songs from my earliest memories to the present day. I’ll do a “read more” thing for this one because it is long and I understand Christmas music isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
Over the past few years, I’ve made it a point to write an original Christmas story on here each holiday season. Some have been completely satirical while last year’s was a bit more serious. They usually star the Governor of Delaware at that time. Sometimes they even have Santa Claus as a main character! I thought I would put all of them together in one place. Next year I’ll do the same thing with this year’s stuff. This year’s story is coming! Just trying to find the right time and ideas to come together! Heck, in the spirit of Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate), let’s put all the festive stuff here!
A note to newer readers who haven’t been here since the beginning. Back in 2014, in the first six months or so of this blog, I picked up an idea from Kilroy’s Delaware to add Twitter hashtags to each title. I didn’t realize this was highly annoying to many readers until someone pointed it out to me. I’ve cleaned up some of those old stories and removed those hashtags, but I saw doing this a lot of the Christmas themed articles still have them. My apologies! Last year I took a long overdue vacation from the blog so only a couple of articles saw the light.
A Christmas Poem For Governor Markell, Warning Signs All Over! 12/1/2014
The Christmas Legend Of Jack & Paul: The Birth Of Common Core & Race To The Top 12/17/2014
The Exceptional Delaware Top 25 Christmas Songs Of All-Time 12/20/2014
Christmas Gifts For The Enemies Of Public Education Part 1 & A For-Real Contest! 12/21/2014
More Christmas Gifts For The Enemies Of Public Education Part 2 12/21/2014
How To Get Through The Holidays When Those You Love Are Gone 12/22/2014
Part 3 Of Christmas Presents For The Enemies Of Public Education 12/23/2014
Christmas Presents For The Enemies Of Public Education: The Publius Edition 12/24/2014
The Murphy’s Law Of Christmas Presents For The Enemies Of Public Education 12/24/2014
Merry Christmas To The All The Heroes Of Delaware Public Education! You Know Who You Are! 12/24/2014
Breaking News: Santa Claus Supports Opt-Out! 12/4/2015
What If Santa Claus And Governor Markell Had A Fight? Who Would Win? 12/15/2015
The Other Christmas Gift 12/18/2015
The Arne Grinch Who Stole Christmas And Promised To Punish School-ville 12/23/2015
Merry Christmas To The Heroes Of Education & My Christmas Wish For The Delaware General Assembly 12/25/2015
The Sound Of Angels 5/7/2016 (Not really a Christmas related story but perfect for that holiday spirit!)
Santa And John 12/1/2016
Secret Santa Does A Wonderful Thing For Stubbs Elementary School In Wilmington, DE 12/9/2016
If you liked the Jack and Paul Common Core birth story, I did write a sequel a year and a half later but it is not holiday themed:
The Delaware Education Posse Rides Again 5/15/2016
Once upon a holiday season, in the land of Delaware, there lived a man who would become Governor. He was promised the throne eight years ago, but another man took his seat. In this land, the people chose their Governor every four years. The man who would be Governor finally won the seat and 58.34% of the people rejoiced. As he sat in his car one day after returning from his job in D.C., he looked out the window. He saw the sun setting in the distance.
John was anxious to get things going in Delaware. He had to officially wait until January 17th, 2017. “Only 47 days,” John said to himself. He had been so busy for so long. Things wouldn’t slow down for him in the next four years, and hopefully the four after that. His day was filled with phone calls, texts, and emails. Everyone wanted a piece of Delaware. He knew not everyone could get a piece. He called his wife from the driveway and told her he was going to go for a walk to clear his head. Always supportive, she knew John needed this and told him to take all the time he needed. John drove to the nearby park. As he walked out of his car, he put on his hat. It was rare he could get away from his security detail but at the same time he didn’t want to be bothered. John walked down the trail…
Meanwhile, 3,529.75 miles away, the jolly one was settling into his favorite chair. The elves were busy preparing for the big day. Santa was happy he had an extra day to prepare this year. As a tradition, during these leap years, he would pick one day off each leap year to do whatever he wanted. Mrs. Claus always forgot about it, but Santa didn’t. Today was his day off! Santa picked up his laptop and on his favorites bar was the website he enjoyed going to the most: Exceptional Delaware. Ever since Santa learned about Common Core and opt out, he found himself checking back in to see what was happening with the children of Delaware and the rest of the country. Santa was not happy when he found out what happened a few weeks after Christmas earlier this year. The people of Delaware wanted the lawmakers to override Governor Jack’s veto of the opt out bill, but it got hung up in some silly rule business. He knew exactly which of those lawmakers would be getting coal this year, led by their Speaker and the leaders below him. Santa heard there was a new Governor in Delaware so he decided he would pay him a visit. While he didn’t usually venture so far south during the busy month, it was his day off and he could do whatever he wanted. At least the things Mrs. Claus wouldn’t have cause to file for divorce over.
As hard as he tried, John couldn’t stop thinking about his plans. He didn’t count on the new President actually winning the election. All his plans were contingent on the Hill winning. But the Tower Man won and he had to plan around it. The Tower Man was picking people who John couldn’t picture running things down in D.C. His office was frantic over the mess. John had to strategize very carefully how he moved forward with everything. Not only did the Tower Man win, but the two bodies of Congress won a majority in the election as well. John’s Delaware was still blue, but a shocking election there threatened to turn the Delaware Senate red too. The state he was to lead had some peculiar problems in it and at the top of that list was the economy and education. Governor Jack treated the two as if they were symbiotic with each other and made some poor choices along the way. John knew if he was going to improve both he would have to find a way to draw everyone in. It was a difficult maze and John knew he wouldn’t please everyone. Governor Jack chose a particular route but John knew if he did the same it would not be good.
Santa knew John’s mind was heavy. As his sleigh crossed the border between Pennsylvania and Delaware, Santa could feel the weight on John’s shoulders. Leadership always carries a heavy burden. Santa knew that better than anyone. Santa knew John ever since he was a little boy. He always knew John would become a leader. John didn’t have the same political sharpness so many politicians had but this also made him more relatable to the people. He watched John’s humble beginnings in the town of Claymont. Carney was one of those tough kids who excelled in football which helped him out at St. Mark’s High School and then Dartmouth College. Santa remembers John’s awards. As John was teaching freshmen football at the University of Delaware, he was also studying public administration. From there, John began his political career working for the county he lived in and then for Governor Tom. From there, John’s political ladder kept getting bigger and bigger. He became the Lieutenant Governor for eight years and decided to run for Governor. But the future “education” Governor Jack beat him in a close race. Others told Jack to wait his turn, it was John’s turn, but Jack ignored them. A couple of years later, John ran for Congress and won. For six years, having to run every two years for a total of three Congressional terms, John worked in D.C. and learned how the game of politics really works. But he never gave up on getting back to Delaware to win as Governor. After Governor Jack was expected to end his tenure, many thought Vice-President Joe’s son Beau would run, but tragically Beau passed away after a long illness. It was then that John decided he would run but wished it had been under better circumstances.
John walked down the path. There was a crisp wind in the air but the moon was bright. He used to walk down this path many times. It hadn’t changed much over time and he remembered it like the back of his hand. John tripped on a branch and fell to the ground. As he looked up, he saw a bright light in the sky above him. A voice cried out “John, we need to talk.” John reached for his phone but he had left it in the car. He thought to himself, “This is it, all alone in the woods with no one to help.” He began to picture the headline in the News Journal the next day. “Who are you?” John asked. “Someone you haven’t thought about in a long time John.” Santa gracefully landed the sleigh on the path in front of John. His lights were still on so John couldn’t tell who it was. “I do have security watching me right now. They are watching you right now. So I wouldn’t try anything They will find you if anything happens to me.” “No they won’t,” Santa said. “Remember you let all of them have the night off and you so conveniently told each one there was coverage?” John wondered how this guy would know that. “It’s me, John. Santa.”
John couldn’t believe his eyes. As a child, he always believed. But as children grew older, that magic disappeared. John saw Santa everywhere this time of year. He began seeing him in stores as early as October. But it wasn’t the same as the man who just walked off a sleigh that came down in the middle of the woods. John took that early childhood magic for granted, as every adult does. John wondered what in the world Santa Claus wanted with him. Did he visit all the new leaders? “John,” Santa said, “We have to talk about the kids. Come with me.” John felt the world spin beneath him. Santa’s words captured him. They weren’t words demanding John obey him, but those of comfort and a calm John hadn’t felt for a long time. John looked at his watch. It was 6:30pm.
Santa and John got in the sleigh. The reindeer, who John hadn’t noticed before, began running down the path. John felt the sleigh lift up into the December night. “John, did you read my letter last year?” Santa asked. John read letters every day. There were some days he couldn’t remember what he had for breakfast he was so busy. John shook his head. “Did you send it to me?” John asked. He knew he probably had not seen it unless it was an issue of critical importance. He was sure if one of his staffers opened it and saw a letter from Santa Claus it would go in the circular bin next to their desk. “No, I let Exceptional Delaware put it up. I thought everyone in Delaware reads it.” That was a name John was familiar with the past six months. The blogger. “You mean the crazy education blogger from Dover? That guy wants to meet with me but I don’t know…” Santa abruptly interrupted John “Watch yourself,” Santa warned. “I have the utmost respect for the blogger. He helped me out last year and he knows what he is talking about.” John responded to Santa. “But he tends to tick off a lot of people. People I’m going to have to work with. I was warned to stay away from him.” Santa’s eyes widened. “Oh really? Would that have been Senator So-coal-A,” Santa carefully empathized. “And all those other adults who don’t have the first clue about what education really is? Let me tell you something John. You will be a leader of Delaware. Any state has a foundation from which it must build on. That foundation is the kids. Not the adults, and especially not the adults who try to make money and get power from kids. There are those out there who will pretend to speak the truth. You surround yourself with them. But there are those who speak uncomfortable truths that people don’t always want to hear. But they do so out of an innate need for change, in the hopes someone with the ability to hear will actually listen.”
John was familiar with what was going on in education. He was told of the long-range plans and how education would be reformed so all kids can succeed. The children would be trained to become the workforce of tomorrow. As he began his campaign, he knew many people in Delaware were hurting. When he ran for Governor the first time, the economy of the whole country was collapsing. Even though Delaware recovered from this, not all of the citizens did. Some never got the jobs back that made them more money. The cities were becoming too violent again. Drug use was up and children were getting shot in the street. But still, Delaware did the one thing it knows how to do best- spend money. John knew all that money wasn’t going to the right places. He also knew that when he became the leader he would have to fix a lot of these problems. Many of his advisors told him that education was going to fix all these problems. Not now, but down the road. But if he didn’t help follow the same paths Governor Jack made, nothing would ever get fixed. This was happening all over the country. There were critics, like the damn blogger, but they were just a whisper in the wind. They didn’t see the big picture and how this was for the good of the state and the country.
“Santa, where are we going?” John asked. “To see the children John.”
“Uhm, Santa. We are flying into downtown Wilmington. No offense sir, but I can’t be seen riding around in a sleigh with someone people don’t believe in along with eight reindeer.” Santa pulled out a pouch from his pocket. “Thanks for reminding me John, I almost forgot.” Santa took out a handful of dust and blew it all around him and John. “They won’t see us now.” Santa parked the sleigh on top of the Community Education Building. The duo went down through the building and to the streets below. They walked over to the playground next to the building.
In a dark corner, an African-American boy was reading with a flashlight. The boy was shivering as he turned a page. “Why is this boy out here Santa? Why doesn’t he go home?” Santa sighed. “This is his home John. He lives on the streets. During the really cold months he goes to a shelter with his aunt. She is at work right now.” John saw a grocery cart a few feet away from the boy. Covering it was a blue tarp. John could see some clothes in there and a few boxes. As John looked away for a moment in horror, he saw a hypodermic needle on the ground. The boy was reading a worn-out copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone with a flashlight between his yellow teeth. He saw the boy lift a crumpled up bag out of his coat pocket. The boy began eating the few crumbs left in the bag of potato chips. Santa told John about how his father went to prison a few years ago. He belonged to one of the gangs. During a shoot-out in front of their apartment building, a bullet missed hitting the boy but instead lodged itself in his mother’s brain. He told John this is the first thing the boy sees when he wakes up in the morning and the last thing he sees at night. “Come on John, we have more stops to make tonight.” John walked to the sleigh but kept looking back at the boy.
Santa and John flew once more into the night. It was very quiet between them. They landed in a very wealthy neighborhood with mansions all around them. John wasn’t sure if he had been on this street when he was campaigning. Many houses were decked out in Christmas lights and he even saw Santas made up in lights. “This is never what Christmas was supposed to be John,” as Santa looked down at his belly. They got out of the sleigh and went into one of the houses. A girl was on her computer playing the latest version of Minecraft. Her mom asked her if she finished her homework. “I sure did,” the girl said. “You can check it on Schoology.” “Did you finish all the stuff on iReady?” the mother asked. “Yes Mom,” as the girl rolled her eyes. She had just finished eating the steak and shrimp but she was still hungry. “Can you turn the heat down Mom?” she yelled. As her hand grabbed the ice cream bowl, Santa and John left. As Sarah pulled the spoon to her mouth, she wondered if she had to be at the school in her cheerleader’s outfit by 9am tomorrow or 9:15.
They flew down to Georgetown. John was last there on Return Day in November. All the candidates who run for office, whether they win or not, participate in this event to “bury the hatchet”. But they flew away from the town to a trailer park. Inside, a Hispanic girl was kicking a ball around with her little brother. A man came into the room. “Hicerion sus deberes?” the man asked. “No podríamos papá. No sabíamos lo que significaban las palabras,” the boy answered. The man watched as his children did what they do after school almost every day. Kicking around the same ball. “Sorry Santa, my Spanish is very rusty. What did they say?” John asked. “The father asked if his children did their homework. They couldn’t because they can’t read the words. They don’t know English very well. They know enough for very basic things, but not enough to learn what they need to know. Their mother is still at the chicken farm working her shift. One of them always has to be with the kids. They aren’t here legally. The father is afraid all the time that his kids will be taken from him and he and his wife will have to go back to their country. He doesn’t know English at all.”
John felt his mind stir as they flew north. He was very troubled by what he saw. When he was campaigning, he tended to see the best of Delaware. In the daylight or early evening when many of his “Meet and Chews” with people were attended by those who had the means and the desire to see him. When he went to schools, he could tell the kids were on their best behavior because “an important man” was coming to visit. He didn’t see people in their homes or on the streets the way he did tonight. He felt uncomfortable, like he was seeing a side of the world he heard about but didn’t see first-hand. “Santa, I should really be getting back. It’s getting late and my wife is probably worrying about me.” Santa laughed so hard the sleigh shook. “Look at your watch John. What time is it?” John looked at his watch in bewilderment. It was still 6:30pm. No time had passed since he first got in the sleigh with Santa back on the trail. “Let me guess, another bit of your magic?” Santa smiled at John as they flew into a middle-class neighborhood in Dover.
The odd couple went into the house. Inside, a boy was crying on the couch. His parents were arguing in the kitchen. “What do you mean he was suspended again?” the father asked. “I got a call from school. They said he was acting out in class again and when the teacher told him to stop he ran out of the room. When another teacher found him, he pushed her away. The Principal came down the hall and yelled at him to come with him. David yelled back at him and Dr. Smith called two teachers to help bring him to the office,” the mother explained. “I didn’t get the call until two hours later. By the time I got there he was so upset.” “Did they give him any work to do when he was in there for two hours?” the boy’s father asked. “I don’t know. But this is not what his IEP says. They aren’t supposed to drag him down the hall and yell at him. He isn’t learning anything there. He’s depressed all the time. He can’t learn in a class with thirty kids.” John knelt down in front of the boy. He saw such pain and sadness in the boy’s eyes. “This boy has no friends John. The things you had growing up, kids to play with and throw a football around, running around in the woods, even going to the amusement park, David can’t do those things.” Santa explained how David was labeled as high-functioning Autism. He could do the work, but only under certain conditions. If there was a lot of activity in the classroom, people talking, moving around, David couldn’t handle that. His brain couldn’t filter out all the stimuli. Some days it worked, but for David, it was an endless litany of suspensions and leaving school early. “Special education John. If you don’t know what is going on with a child, and everyone is different, how can we put all kids in the same box?” Santa asked him.
John could see what Santa was doing. He understood that not every kid is the same. But if they didn’t try to help all the kids nothing would change. The two flew to the building where John was destined to spend many of his days in the next four years. Legislative Hall. Where all the laws in Delaware happened. John didn’t think there would be any kids there at 6:30pm, and he was right. Inside, a meeting was taking place. John knew about half the people at the large table in the House Majority Caucus room. There were some from the Department of Education, a couple from the Rodel Foundation of Delaware, the usual Delaware State Education Association contingent, some Superintendents, a few teachers, Delaware PTA, some of the disability advocates, the lady from the Delaware Charter Schools Network, four legislators, and a couple of State Board members. He knew them. A few people sat in the chairs outside of the table. A woman from the Delaware DOE was giving a presentation on the Every Student Succeeds Act. Delaware had to come up with a state plan so all students can succeed. She was talking about the Delaware School Success Framework and the measurements they wanted included in their state accountability system. It was all about proficiency and growth. Which John knew was based on the Smarter Balanced Assessment. All these adults, sitting there talking about kids and how they can make education better. John knew a few of the people there had the best of intentions but this was what they do in Delaware. They sit around a table and talk. This was how things got done. They even had a name for it, The Delaware Way.
“You don’t get it!” John cried out. “We can’t keep testing these kids. They aren’t the same. We can’t keep doing this. Their lives mean so much more than these tests.” Santa looked at John. “They can’t hear you. Even if they could, too many of them wouldn’t listen. They think they know what is best. They forget what it was like when they were kids. Even that man over there.” Santa pointed to a man from Wilmington. “He kept fighting for the kids in Wilmington and how the teachers need to be better,” Santa explained. “The man believed what he said but he didn’t realize how much these children don’t have outside of school. The man didn’t understand that you can’t just wave a magic wand and make teachers better. And the best teachers, they were the ones already in those classrooms in Wilmington. They were the ones who came to school every day, knowing the problems these kids brought to the classroom. The look of hunger in their eyes as they wore the same clothes for the third day in a row. They dedicated their lives to helping these kids in the hardest classrooms in the state. In return, they were shamed by many of the people in this room. The little boy we saw on the playground tonight? He goes to the poorest school in the state. Most of the people in this room have never walked into his school. They don’t understand what he needs. That legislator over there? She sponsored a bill so special education would get better in the state. In their eyes, it did. Students went from 21% proficiency on the ELA part of Smarter Balanced to 23%. To them, that is growth. The Superintendent over there? She runs the district where the two kids from Georgetown go to school. She has a lot of students who can’t speak or read English. She hasn’t said one word tonight about how to help them. See the man over there? He runs a charter school in Newark. They just settled on a lawsuit against the Christina School District. In return they will get more money in the future. Remember the girl in the mansion? She goes to that charter school. That money will be taken from the homeless boy’s school. He will get less than he has today at school. The man over there? He sits on the board at the Rodel Foundation. He sees opportunity. He sees how the business leaders in the state can profit from all this. He is hoping they will start talking about more career pathway programs in our high schools. He knows that some will go to the coding school he sits on the board of. He talks with other business leaders and the graduates of that program do internships at their companies. Sometimes they get jobs. While they are learning, these coding students are building the network of tomorrow. They develop algorithms that will go into the education technology in all the schools. All that data, all that blessed data. They store it all. They keep everything, these futurists and visionaries. They have the money and influence to make sure what they want becomes policy and law. It is the way the modern world works John. Perhaps they know, and don’t care, that what they are setting up now will only make those children who struggle the most even further apart from any true opportunity to succeed. And them, over there, they work for the Department of Education. They are the middlemen between the schools and the business community. They make sure the business community gets what they want in the schools. They do this through regulations and conversations you will never hear about. That woman there, she runs the accountability section of the Department. Her job is to make sure all children in certain grades take the Smarter Balanced Assessment. When she sees the results come in, she doesn’t see the faces of the children who took the test. She sees numbers. Results. Scores. Her job is to understand why all the children we saw tonight got a 1 on the test last Spring except for the girl in the mansion who got a 4. She doesn’t see David’s disability. Or the two siblings who can’t read the instructions for the test in English much less understand the context of a passage in Spanish about the stock market. She doesn’t know that the African-American boy in Wilmington has slept in 124 different beds in the past year alone and the other 241 nights were outside with blankets. But she actually thinks they can close the achievement gaps and these children will grow into prosperity. How does she know this? It’s what her bosses tell her every single day. She hears the lie so much she believes it.”
John and Santa left the building. As the two flew north, they talked about what John had to do. What he needed to change. They talked about the blogger and the parents, teachers, legislators, advocates, and citizens who thought like Santa did. “Those are the ones you really need to talk to John. I’m sure you have heard from many of the people who were in that meeting tonight. If you haven’t, I have no doubt your advisors have.” John knew this to be true. “You need to understand the other side of the coin John, where the real world lives. These aren’t pleasant realities you saw tonight. For those fighting for the kids, even opting out of the test isn’t as easy as it once was. They are fighting for these kids, their kids. And their grandchildren. They are fighting for their jobs. They see beyond the results and the growth. They see what needs to change but no one listens. No one who can really make a difference. Some do, but not enough to make the changes. When they do speak, they are shunned by their peers. Given less importance. It isn’t right John. What the people in that room wanted, it won’t change anything. It will only cause more damage. You can’t incorporate education. These are children. You need to change all this.”
John walked out of the sleigh. He thanked Santa for showing him so much of the Delaware he didn’t see before. The two shook hands. “Santa, I don’t know if I can change all of this by myself. You know if I try I will make enemies. Those enemies won’t make my job any easier.” Santa put his hand on John’s shoulder. “That is what all leaders who understand what is right and just have to face. Some succeed and some fail. Some do it alone and some have support. All I can say is this John- remember what you saw tonight. Every single time you make a decision. Remember the children’s faces before you see the adults. You know in your heart who is really in this for the kids and who isn’t. When you hear that voice in your head, questioning what the true motives are, listen to that. Let that be your shield against your enemies John.” John hugged Santa. “Merry Christmas Santa.” “And to you as well Governor Carney.” Santa walked toward his sleigh and turned around. “John, find those who speak the uncomfortable truths.”
John looked down at his watch. It was 6:31pm. Santa was gone.
Before a secret is told, one can often feel the weight of it in the atmosphere.
-Susan Griffin
On January 26th, 1948, a full moon shone brightly in the Winter sky. The next time the full moon will be that close to the earth will be on Monday morning at 6:22am. The next time you can see a Supermoon that close to Terra Firma will be 2034. Tonight, it is just Waxing Gibbous. It is at 97.4% of a full moon. And it is cold out. There is a frost in the air and the stars are shining bright. Winter is coming.
They are saying it is going to be a mild winter this year. Another La Niña. So this means I could probably lay on the beach for New Years.
It’s the middle of the night. Sleep comes and goes tonight. I’m feeling restless, more than I have in a long time. Afraid to close my eyes and afraid to stay awake. Work comes in three and a half hours. It will be a long day.
My arm is doing better. I had a case of hairspray fall on my left elbow a month ago. It hurt like hell when it happened, but only for a few minutes. But then a week later this… thing… started sticking out of my elbow. Like a Dr. Scholl’s pad golf ball. I’ve been to doctors a few times for this. I even had my first MRI. Not an experience I care to repeat. Last week I learned I had a slight tear in a tendon. So I’ve been on light duty at work for a month and will be for another few weeks. I work a tough job, but for scheduling purposes, there are reasons why I work that job. It isn’t for the weak, that’s for sure. But I feel the weight of age creeping up on me sometimes. An odd ache here, a desire to take a nap in the middle of a day off. And I’m not even fifty.
I haven’t been writing here as much as I could. I have plenty to say, and plenty or articles ready to pop. I’ve never had more research in my life. But right now, America and Delaware seem to be dealing with President Trump in one of two ways: it is the end of democracy as we know it or it is the best post-coital bliss ever. I don’t want to throw stuff out there that will get bypassed for yet another article about Trump. I’m also at that point in education where I have to start calling people and organizations out. Ones that, when I began this journey, I thought were on the side of kids. But they aren’t. The picture starts to get blurry and the colors start to merge. I wish I could say there are those that I thought were the “bad guys” but then I discovered they aren’t. But I can’t say that. Yes, Jack Markell will sail off into the sunset. Secretary Godowsky will go with him. But what Jack made for Delaware is still in play.
I have this sense of foreboding tonight. I don’t know why. Maybe I do. Things are going to change. I know this but I want to wish it away. Taking things for granted is never a good idea. I want things to be simple again. But they won’t be. The last time things were simple for me was in 1975.
The summer after Kindergarten, my mom had to have an operation of some sort. I couldn’t tell you what it was for, but it was enough for my parents to send me and my brothers to a family friend’s house for a couple of days. We went to see Peter Pan, the classic cartoon version. Afterwards, we went to our friend’s church. I don’t remember how it got to that point, but I remember the minister asking me if I had anything to say. So I told the whole church about Peter Pan. I went on and on and on. Everyone in the church was laughing and smiling. I didn’t understand at the time that they weren’t laughing at how great Peter Pan was, but the fact that a five year-old boy was talking about this in God’s House of Worship. Of course, I felt like the king of the world and the audience loved me. I was the star of the show.
That was the last time things were truly simple for me. Genuine, unadulterated bliss. When you are that young, the world revolves around you. You are the center of the universe.
I won’t be falling back to sleep tonight. I would be getting up in an hour and a half anyways, so what’s the point. I’ve already started my first cup of coffee. To me, there isn’t anything better than that first sip. Hopefully that, and a couple more, will do the trick for the day ahead of me.
Now I’m thinking of an earlier time, before Peter Pan. My family and I were in church. My Dad, Mom, my three brothers, and myself. All I remember was that I was crying because my Mom went up to get Communion. My Dad was holding me in his arms. But I felt lost and scared. I couldn’t have been older than two or three. My father pulled out a little toy giraffe, no bigger than my hand. For some reason, that giraffe gave me comfort. It eased my troubled toddler little mind. But I see it differently now. I see a father holding a crying baby who wanted his mommy. And in that moment, he found a connection. Instead of getting upset, he gave me something he hoped would give me comfort and a feeling of safety. It worked. I remember holding that giraffe in my tiny hand and looking up at my dad. In his eyes I saw a feeling of calm, of peace.
I haven’t thought, or written, about that moment in a long time. The last time I wrote about it was in 1988. I was in a creative writing class for the first half of my Senior year of high school. Our final project was to write an autobiography based on something important in our life. I wrote about my walk with God. And I couldn’t very well talk about God without writing about all the people in my life. This project became bigger and bigger the more I wrote. It was about my life, from birth until that very snowy January over seventeen years later. I believe it was about 24 pages, typed. I got an A on it. We had to read it in class. I remember a few of my classmates crying when I read it. I remember asking them later why they cried. They said they had no idea or close I was with God. I wasn’t a Bible-thumping evangelist running around my high school reading scripture every chance I got. But in my thoughts, I pondered and wrestled with questions of faith back then.
It’s always darkest before the dawn. At least that’s what they say. It is now 3:15am. My alarm will be going off at 4:30am. I’m leaving it on in case weariness overcomes me and I succumb to somnus.
I was a wreck last Christmas. I never got the tree fully set up. My son was transitioning to his fifth school since Kindergarten. In six years. It took its toll on me. On my family. I wonder sometimes if I will ever find a reason or answers to why my son had to go through so much at such an early age. I watch him sometimes, struggling with his disability. Those times when he asks God why he has to suffer through painful and repetitive tics. Why his mind sometimes feels muddled. Other times he refuses to believe in God because how could any God do that to a human being. I see the host of people who have come in and out of his life. Too much “goodbye” and not enough “hello”. I struggle with my own thoughts on this. When do I let go a little? When does my fighting interfere with his ability to self-advocate? He is fast becoming a teenager. That transition period between boy and man. When do I see the disability? When do I see the boy-turning-into-a-man chrysalis? Tourette Syndrome is not all he is. He has it. It affects him. But it isn’t his whole being. It is not his whole life. It is just baggage he has to carry with him on his own walk through life. One day, he will have to find peace with it. I pray that day comes soon, but all things come in time.
What madness has struck upon me during this waxing gibbous that I am poring all these memories and feelings onto the screen? I don’t know. But it feels right. Sometimes writing is my way of purging things. Or coming to terms. Reconnecting with the world. I can throw numbers and statistics and secrets on the screen all day long. But none of it means anything if I don’t have that reconnection. I can’t be tethered to education all the time. How I see education is not how most see it. I dive into the cesspools most don’t even know exist. Waters that don’t look that deep, but they will suck you in and drown you for all its worth. But it is worth plenty. I have no regrets. This is my way of walking away from it. At least for this moment. To see life beyond the lies. Because there is so much that human beings never learn in the classroom. The painful and hard lessons they learn in real life.
Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors. He has this uncanny knack for dealing with the most abstract of thoughts in the simplest of ways. So that anyone can understand it. The above picture comes from his Sandman comic-book series. It ran 75 issues, from 1988 until 1996. I didn’t catch on to this series until 1991. By then it was well-known. Each issue became a gold-mine when it came out. By the time the 74th issue came out, I was preparing to move to another country. Young love and a huge sense of wanderlust brought me to Sweden in 1996. I was there for two months when I walked into a newsstand one evening. I was killing time before going over to a friend’s house. I sold about 90% of my comic-book collection before moving and I didn’t really have much intention of picking up the habit again. But there it was, staring at me. Sandman #75. The last issue.
William Shakespeare appeared in an earlier issue of Sandman. Gaiman crafted a reimagining of the Bard’s inspiration for A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream in the story. Morpheus, also known as the Sandman or Dream, granted William Shakespeare the inspiration for all his plays in exchange for a boon. Shakespeare wrote two plays for Morpheus. The play highlighted in the earlier issue was A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream. But the last issue was based on The Tempest. Ironically, this took place prior to the pivotal moment in the series six issues earlier, but it served as the perfect moment for Dream to sleep.
I’m halfway done with my second cup of coffee. For the first time in well over eight years, I read the last issue of Sandman again. I am left wondering: do I inspire or am I inspired? Do I write for you or do you read for me? Do I amuse or am I your muse? Weighty thoughts, heavier on my shoulders by little sleep and not having the ability to dream.
I leave for work in an hour. This has been a distraction. Away from my fears, my worries. A distraction from a truth wrapped up in a secret. We all do this. We refuse to face a reality so we hide from it. We try to cover it up. But it’s always there, staring down at us like a Supermoon.
When I published Santa’s proclamation supporting opt-out of standardized testing, it took off like a rocket! Santa Claus was very happy so many people read his press release, he asked me to publish it again tonight while he is out making all is deliveries to the children of Earth. Santa was not happy the US DOE put out all those bad letters in the past couple months. He is very disappointed in our education leaders. He may have Dasher and Prancer do some of their covert operations during the off season… But without further ado, here is the original story of how Santa Claus came to support opt-out.
Santa Claus was getting pictures at the Dover Mall with young children. He always asks the kids what they want for Christmas. He acknowledged hearing very strange requests over the years. But he reported to me recently about a very unusual request he got on Black Friday. A little boy who was 8 years old told Santa he only wanted one thing for Christmas. He wanted his mother to opt him out of the Smarter Balanced Assessment.
Santa had never heard of such an odd thing before, so he asked the boy what it was. “I’m in 3rd grade Santa, and all they talk about is some test we have to take next Spring. All my teachers talk about it. And we have to take something called an intrum test after we come back from Christmas break. Every day teachers say ‘this could be on the test. Make sure you know it.’ I’m getting tired of it Santa. Nobody cares about my actual grades, and I’m a smart kid Santa.”
Santa asked the boy what “opting out” means? The boy said some parents actually told the school they didn’t want their kid taking the Smarter Balanced test. The school gave them a rough time, but the parents fought back. “If they can do it, can you make sure my mom does it too?” Santa pondered this for a moment. “I think,” Santa said, “That would be up to your Mom.” “Good, she is right over there,” the boy said and pointed to his mother. “Mom, can you come over here? Santa wants to ask you something!” the boy shouted.
The boy’s mother walked over and Santa said “Your son wants you to opt him out of the Smarter something test. It’s all he wants for Christmas.” The boy’s mother explained she had never heard of the test. “That’s cause this is the first year we take it Mom. I heard some teachers say it doesn’t actually mean anything and it only lets the state know how we are doing. And I heard something about some evil Psycho Metric guy.” The boy’s mother explained, “I will have to look into this.” The boy shouted “But I want you to opt me out!” The crowd heard the words “opt-out” and all of a sudden, parents were yelling “Opt him out! Opt him out!” Santa explained how he had to get to the next kid as the line to visit him was getting longer. “Let me make some calls on this! Can I call your mom about this when I get more information?” The boy’s mother gave Santa their phone number.
After a very long three days, Santa Claus dove into the subject of opt-out. He ran across this blog, so he gave me a call. I explained to Santa Claus how opt-out works and that it is a parental right. He asked me why schools fight it and want the kids to take a test that is bad for them. I told Santa that the schools get threats and they are intimidated by the Delaware Department of Education. I told him about House Bill 50, how some of the legislators like Jaques and Sokola tried to block it, how it passed the Delaware House and Senate, but then Governor Markell vetoed it. But I also explained how the House and Senate might override his veto when they come back to make laws. Santa laughed. “It sounds like someone should be called Senator So-coal-a!” I explained to Santa how kids did worse on this test than the one that came before it and all the nasty tricks the DOE was trying to come out with because of the test. Santa got very upset about the DOE and Secretary Godowsky blowing off the Accountability Framework Working Group’s recommendations about no harsh opt-out penalties for schools. “Sounds to me like this Secretary and these DOE people want schools to be punished for a parent’s decision. That isn’t honorable. I might have to order some more coal this year…”
Santa’s cheeks got very red as he became more flustered about the Smarter Balanced Assessment. “This just isn’t right! Now I am understanding why so many kids have looked different and sad the past few years. I thought this Common Core stuff would go away when they talked about all that nonsense with kids needing to compete with the kids in China. I go there every year, and most of those kids don’t even take those tests!” I told Santa how they got rid of that reason, and now it is so kids can be college and career ready! Santa laughed so hard I could hear his belly jiggling over the phone. “How in the world can a kid in 3rd grade, or even 8th grade be ‘college and career ready’? Kids need to play and have fun. School is important, don’t get me wrong, but there is so much other stuff that makes them grow up.”
Santa called the boy’s mother last night and had a long talk with her. She agreed that opting out of the Smarter Balanced Assessment is the best choice for her son. That night, she wrote a letter to her son’s school opting her son out of the Smarter Balanced Assessment. This morning, she gave it to the principal and kept a copy for herself. She asked the principal to sign a piece of paper recognizing he received the letter. She said I could share it but for the sake of her son’s privacy to take out her name. It said:
Dear Principal,
I am letting you know that I am opting my son out of the Smarter Balanced Assessment that will be administered in 2016. I am requesting my son not be punished for my decision and that he is given instruction while the other children are taking the test. I understand schools have to give the test, but I also know this is a parent’s right and there is no law stating I can’t. I do not wish to have any meetings or calls about this. Please respect my decision.
Sincerely,
The boy’s mom
Santa was very proud of the boy for having the courage to ask for something so simple. It gave him hope that other parents would see the wisdom in the boy and his mother’s decision. Santa doesn’t usually interfere with the workings of the people, but he thought in this case he should issue some type of proclamation about this whole opt-out thing. So he asked me to give the exclusive on his proclamation to which I happily agreed. So without further ado, here is Santa’s official stance on opt-out!
This is incredibly awesome. Someone once told me you should always give 75% of the time and want 25% of the time. By doing this, you don’t even have to worry about wanting because the vast majority of giving creates what you receive. This video proves this and shows how children who come from having the least have the biggest hearts.
I’ve always been a big fan of lists, so I’ve updated my top 25 favorite Christmas songs. It’s pretty much the same as what I posted on Facebook last year, but the Pogues moved up, and Band Aid took the #1 spot again. So without further ado, here’s the list. Let me know if you agree (none of you will), and what you feel should be there and what shouldn’t. And stay tuned for a post I can only call “Christmas Presents For The Enemies Of Public Education In Delaware”. Feel free to leave input on that one as well!
Top Christmas Songs
1. Do They Know It’s Christmas: Band Aid
2. Christmas Lights: Coldplay
3. Christmastime: Smashing Pumpkins
4. Fairytale Of New York: Pogues and Kirsty MacColl
5. Christmas Time: Bryan Adams
6. Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home): U2
7. The Little Drummer Boy: Harry Simeone Chorale
8. Boots: The Killers
9. Merry Christmas Eve: Better Than Ezra
10. Aspenglow: John Denver
11. I Believe In Father Christmas: Emerson, Lake and Palmer
12. Please Come Home For Christmas: The Eagles
13. Some Children See Him: Andy Williams
14. All I Want For Christmas Is You: Olivia Olson
15. Gabriel’s Message: Sting
16. 2000 Miles: Mighty, Mighty Bosstones
17. Feliz Navidad: Jose Feliciano
18. River: Sarah McLachlan
19. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas: The Pretenders
20. I Wish Everyday Could Be Like Christmas: Bon Jovi
21. Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer: Elmo and Patsy
22. Carol Of The Bells: The Calling
23. A Christmas To Remember: Amy Grant
24. Happy X-Mas (War Is Over): John Lennon
25. Christmas Day: Dido
‘Tis the season for giving. Yes, we have a Scrooge McLameduck wanting to take kids schools away for the holidays. But I found this poem written by a certain Governor. Not really, but it was fun writing it.
Twas the night before Christmas, in the DOE house, not a computer was whirring, not even a mouse. All the teachers were hanging, by the Governor’s chair, in the fears that more charter schools, soon would be there.
The students were testing, all cramped like the dead, while Visions of rigor, danced in their heads. And Murphy in his suit, and Markell on his throne, had just settled down, their faces like stone.
When out on the playground, a student said no. Markell rose from his tonic, and said we have to go. Away to the window, the other students looked, they all jumped out, Murphy’s goose was cooked.
The moon shone on the kids, with six feet of snow. To all the parents, it appeared to be woe. When what to Markell’s eyes soon did appear, but the DOE Horsemen bounded by fear.
With a fashionable driver, and a face like a German, he knew in a moment, it must be Paul Herdman. More rapid than hedge funds, his money it came, and he whistled and shouted, and called them by name.
Now Blowman! now Schwinn! now Ruskowski and Mieczkowski! On, Johnson! On, Watson! On McLaughlin and Duncan! To the school kids must go, get back to class! Get back to testing, before I kick your ass!
As students ran, dollar signs soon appear; and Markell knew, this was his year. His stock portfolio, he saw it grow; all the talk about caring, it was just a show. So to the CEB Building, he made a bet; soon all my plans, they will be met.
Help the rich, screw over the poor; If you don’t like it, there is the door. We have Teach For America, and a grad school called Relay; We get them much cheaper, it’s the start of a new day.
I let them all think, what we do is best; the parents and teachers, and all of the rest. In my dreams, they all go to Hell; I’ve got Duncan, and a seat on Rodel!
The students will score, with utmost proficiency; the public school teachers, they get no leniency. I’ll fire them all, kick them out of the school; I can’t help it, cause I’m such a tool.
To the students in the city, I’ll use discrimination; so what if it appears, like triple segregation. I’ll send them to charters, by the city walls; I won’t get caught, Duncan owns my balls.
My state passed the bill, on political favors; it doesn’t matter, cause I got the waivers. The parents may opt out; but that’s just a cop out. Because of all this, I’ve got the bling; I just cash in, and I say cha-ching.
Schools must take the test, so they can get Smarter; school boards can kiss my ass, I’ll turn them to charters. I’ve got my Secretary, my guy Mark Murphy; it could have been worse, by the name of Michelle Rhee.
Screw all the bloggers, especially Kilroy; I own the schools, they’re my little toy. My president loves me, the name of Obama; Wilmington kids cry, straight to their mama.
I’ve got connections, especially Paul; public schools die, and I’ll watch them fall. I know it seems, that I must be evil; try and stop me, it will be feeble. I’ve got the money; but you have the test; kiss my ring, cause I am the best.
Some say it’s not right, and it’s not fair; you can all go to Hell, cause I rule Delaware. Don’t think this is over, cause I’ve still got more; what can I say, I’m a Common Core whore!
The Season Of Myths 