I've recently had the distinct misfortune of offending someone when no offense was meant. It's an interesting place to be, if not a little lonely, because it forces me to examine again why we do the things we do -- or not.
The details of the alleged offense are not important. What matters more to me is how a perceived slight is dealt with. What's the responsibility of the offended party? What's the responsibility of the one who has been deemed offensive?
I don't have those answers, but I did a little research into the subject today and found some thoughts by other people that shed a little light on a fairly murky topic.
If you've ever been offended -- or if you've ever offended -- this post is for you.
Slate.com published an article in 2008 titled "Why humans are so quick to take offense, and what that means for the presidential campaign," by Emily Yoffe.
Ms. Yoffe explores the fascinating biology and psychology behind our tendencies to get bent out of shape when something doesn't go our way. With all due respect to copyright laws, I quote from her piece:
A paradox of human life is that the evolutionary forces that have made us cooperative and empathetic are the same ones that have made us prickly and explosive. Jonathan Haidt, a psychology professor at the University of Virginia, is a leading theorist in the field of moral psychology. He says the paired emotions of gratitude and vengeance helped us become the ultrasocial, ultrasuccessful species that we are. Gratitude allows us to expand our social network and recruit new allies; vengeance makes sure our new friends don't take advantage of us.
Study the topic of "taking offense" and you realize people are like tuning forks, ready to vibrate with indignation. So why do humans seem equipped with a thrumming tabulator, incessantly calculating whether we are getting proper due and deference?
According to researchers, calibrating our responses to social interactions usually occurs below our conscious awareness. Yale psychologist John Bargh says getting on with life would be unmanageable if we didn't have a constantly running, under-the-surface sense of how to respond to situations. In his experiments, Bargh has shown that many of our social judgments and actions are automatic, and after the fact our brains make up a justification.
Humans have superb abilities to evaluate the defects of everyone else. The glitch, Haidt says, is that we're blind to our own flaws. He points out that Jesus used this very metaphor when he said, "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." Haidt says we think that our perception of events is the objective truth, while everyone else's version is deluded by their self-interest.
"Once we're angry, irritated, we become prosecutors, and our reasoning gets hijacked by our need to build our own case," he says. So he suggests we can stop the prosecution by making even a small gesture of conciliation. We don't have to acknowledge we are wholly in the wrong, but changing our tone, conceding we shouldn't have said something, or said it in such a way, can trigger the reciprocity impulse in our opponent.
Some researchers recommend that when it comes to feeling offended, we could benefit from becoming a little bit Buddhist. Stephanie Preston, head of the University of Michigan's Ecological Neuroscience Lab, says: "The more attached you are to your sense of self, the more you see forces trying to attack that self. If you have a more Buddhist view, and are less attached to self, you are less likely to see offense."
Now we move from the evolutionary/psychological/Buddhist perspectives into the worldview of Christianity. The Bible has a lot to say on the subjects of offense, forgiveness, pomposity, and self vs. someone else.
The following comes from a 2007 devotional by Christian author Randy Robinson titled "Taking Offense."
It's instructive . . .
Often we take offense -- even when it’s not ours to take. Offense will come our way. We don’t have to go looking for it. When we do, we find offense in places where there is little or no cause for it. This is not simply foolishness, it is dangerous. It can lead to an overblown sense of victimization. Those who constantly take offense begin to feel as if life is not fair or that the world is out to get them. This mindset is diametrically opposed to Jesus declaration that Christians should “rejoice and be glad” when persecuted by the world (Matthew 5:11-12).
Dennis Prager, a brilliant author, lecturer and radio host, calls victimhood “the greatest single cause of evil.” He points out that Nazism arose from a sense of German victimhood, communism from a belief that the working man is the victim and Islamism from the idea that Muslims are victims of an oppressive Jewish-American conspiracy.
“The preoccupation of much of America with telling whole groups that they are victims -- of racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia and classism, among other American sins -- can only increase cruelty and evil in America,” Prager asserts.
Christians should not give in to the temptation to play the social martyr. We should stand up for our beliefs and defend the assaults on our faith, but never look for reasons to take offense. To the contrary, we must proactively forgive those who offend us, whether that offense is real or merely perceived. Otherwise, we play the part of the angry, bitter, reactionary victim. In that state of mind, we cannot respond with patience and love. Instead, we respond in a manner that genuinely gives offense.
For anyone reading this who wonders whether they have unwittingly committed an offense, or who has already been the recipient of a sudden, unmerited, and colossal freakout, I have only this advice:
Keep calm, and carry on. You can only do the next thing -- whatever that next thing is -- and pray for a satisfactory resolution.
Wordly discourse on everything from the sad state of public education, politics and world peace to vegetarianism, breast vs. bottle, religious persecution, bad media, and all manner of life's vagaries.
June 5, 2011
May 29, 2011
Someone FINALLY said it!!! And in print, no less!!!
The June 2011 issue of Atlantic magazine is a must-read for anyone who cares about the education of American children. Written by Joel Klein, former chancellor of New York city schools and the prosecutor who made Bill Gates and Microsoft cry "uncle," the article explores the real reasons behind the failure of American public education.
Klein fought hard to change the status quo in NY public schools. He lost.
Calling today's public education "essentially a government monopoly," Klein notes that "whether a school does well or poorly, it will get the students it needs to stay in business, because most kids have no other choice."
So, what IS the "business" of public education? Klein explores this with a cynicism usually found in people like me, commoners who have bucked the system for so long that we're usually deemed reactionary, unbalanced, or downright hateful.
"Let's start with the politicians. From their point of view, the school system can be enormously helpful, providing patronage hires, school-placement opportunities for connected constituents, the means to get favored community and business programs adopted and funded, and politically advantageous ties to schools and parents in their communities," Klein writes.
Klein goes on to describe an instance in which he argued before the NY state assembly to end patronage hires. Politicians pretended to be shocked but afterward Klein was told he could count on one committee member's future support if only he (Klein) would make sure a school principal in the member's district wasn't fired. So much for pleading ignorance of patronage, eh?
In another instance, Klein writes about his reorganization of the school system in which he minimized the power of 32 local superintendents. A local official called Klein and asked how he'd get "constituent services" once the reorg was complete. Klein replied, "What's that?" and the official said, "How do I get a kid into a school when I need to?" When Klein tried to explain that admission to the school system could not be preferential, the official said, "Go f**k yourself," and hung up.
I know, I know, you're waiting for me to explain what all this has to do with public education. Folks, what I've just presented IS public education, at least in New York City.
Without completely violating copyright laws, I'm going to quote a few other "revelations" from Klein's article. These little nuggets speak volumes:
* The gains we have made in improving our schools are negligible -- even though we have doubled our spending (in inflation adjusted dollars) on K-12 public education.
*On America's latest exams, one third or fewer of 8th grade students were proficient in mat, science, or reading.
*ACT, the respected national organization that administers college-admissions tests, recently found that 76 percent of our high-school graduates 'were not adequately prepared academically for first-year college courses.'
*The World Economic Forum ranks the U.S. 48th in math and science education.
*Politicians do what the teachers' unions want, not what children need.
*Substandard teachers are nearly impossible to get rid of, at least in NY schools.
*Teachers who are "burned out" continue to bide their time so they can receive uber-generous benefits upon retirement. They inflict their apathy and indifference upon their students.
*Charter schools that have been successful are derided as insignificant exceptions. Instead of trying to figure out what they've done right, teachers' unions and other invested public school proponents dismiss these schools as aberrations.
Klein also quotes former United Federation of Teachers president Al Shanker, exposing some hard truths about the grownups in charge of children's most important institution aside from their families:
"When schoolchildren start paying union dues, that's when I'll start representing the interests of schoolchildren," Shanker is quoted as saying.
Towards the end of the article Klein draws upon Shanker's words again, this time from a 1993 speech to the prestigious Pew Forum: Shanker said, "We are at the point that the auto industry was at a few years ago. They could see they were losing market share every year and still not believe that it really had anything to do with the quality of the product. . . I think we will get -- and deserve -- the end of public education through some sort of privatization scheme if we don't behave differently."
Klein's prognosis for public education isn't pretty. "Time is running out," he writes. "Without political leadership willing to take risks and build support for 'radical reform,' and without a citizenry willing to insist on those reforms, our schools will continue to decline. . . (T)he global marketplace will be very unforgiving to a populace that doesn't have the skills it demands."
Klein fought hard to change the status quo in NY public schools. He lost.
Calling today's public education "essentially a government monopoly," Klein notes that "whether a school does well or poorly, it will get the students it needs to stay in business, because most kids have no other choice."
So, what IS the "business" of public education? Klein explores this with a cynicism usually found in people like me, commoners who have bucked the system for so long that we're usually deemed reactionary, unbalanced, or downright hateful.
"Let's start with the politicians. From their point of view, the school system can be enormously helpful, providing patronage hires, school-placement opportunities for connected constituents, the means to get favored community and business programs adopted and funded, and politically advantageous ties to schools and parents in their communities," Klein writes.
Klein goes on to describe an instance in which he argued before the NY state assembly to end patronage hires. Politicians pretended to be shocked but afterward Klein was told he could count on one committee member's future support if only he (Klein) would make sure a school principal in the member's district wasn't fired. So much for pleading ignorance of patronage, eh?
In another instance, Klein writes about his reorganization of the school system in which he minimized the power of 32 local superintendents. A local official called Klein and asked how he'd get "constituent services" once the reorg was complete. Klein replied, "What's that?" and the official said, "How do I get a kid into a school when I need to?" When Klein tried to explain that admission to the school system could not be preferential, the official said, "Go f**k yourself," and hung up.
I know, I know, you're waiting for me to explain what all this has to do with public education. Folks, what I've just presented IS public education, at least in New York City.
Without completely violating copyright laws, I'm going to quote a few other "revelations" from Klein's article. These little nuggets speak volumes:
* The gains we have made in improving our schools are negligible -- even though we have doubled our spending (in inflation adjusted dollars) on K-12 public education.
*On America's latest exams, one third or fewer of 8th grade students were proficient in mat, science, or reading.
*ACT, the respected national organization that administers college-admissions tests, recently found that 76 percent of our high-school graduates 'were not adequately prepared academically for first-year college courses.'
*The World Economic Forum ranks the U.S. 48th in math and science education.
*Politicians do what the teachers' unions want, not what children need.
*Substandard teachers are nearly impossible to get rid of, at least in NY schools.
*Teachers who are "burned out" continue to bide their time so they can receive uber-generous benefits upon retirement. They inflict their apathy and indifference upon their students.
*Charter schools that have been successful are derided as insignificant exceptions. Instead of trying to figure out what they've done right, teachers' unions and other invested public school proponents dismiss these schools as aberrations.
Klein also quotes former United Federation of Teachers president Al Shanker, exposing some hard truths about the grownups in charge of children's most important institution aside from their families:
"When schoolchildren start paying union dues, that's when I'll start representing the interests of schoolchildren," Shanker is quoted as saying.
Towards the end of the article Klein draws upon Shanker's words again, this time from a 1993 speech to the prestigious Pew Forum: Shanker said, "We are at the point that the auto industry was at a few years ago. They could see they were losing market share every year and still not believe that it really had anything to do with the quality of the product. . . I think we will get -- and deserve -- the end of public education through some sort of privatization scheme if we don't behave differently."
Klein's prognosis for public education isn't pretty. "Time is running out," he writes. "Without political leadership willing to take risks and build support for 'radical reform,' and without a citizenry willing to insist on those reforms, our schools will continue to decline. . . (T)he global marketplace will be very unforgiving to a populace that doesn't have the skills it demands."
The lesson of Flanders Fields
Tomorrow is Memorial Day and although it's a holiday traditionally fraught with barbecues and sports events, it's really a holiday to commemorate the soldiers lost in battle.
As year-round homeschoolers, I try to make sure we don't spend such holidays without making an effort to learn something from them or about them.
This year, before we embark on our picnic and play, we're going to learn about the history of Memorial Day and the poem In Flanders Fields written by WWI Canadian soldier John McCrae.
It's one of the few poems I cannot read without crying.
My daughters will have to read it aloud to me, and then they'll get to copy it in their own handwriting.
After that, we're going to talk about the life of the poet himself and the girls will write a short dictation about him.
There's a beautiful poppy picture to color, and a one-folder lapbook to make.
Somewhere in all of this, we've got little American flags to post in our front yard and I'll tell them once again about the brave men in their family who have served or are serving our country in peacetime and in the Iraq War, war in Afghanistan, Korean War, both world wars, the Civil War, the War of 1812, and the American Revolutionary War.
They are:
Dillon Blevins (American Revolutionary War)
Armstead Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins, Jr. (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Henry Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Benjamin Franklin Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Thomas Hamby (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Elijah T. Wells (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Leonard Hamby (WWI)
Howard I. Evans (for Canada, WWI)
Clifford Evans (WWII)
Lloyd Evans (WWII)
Howard Evans (WWII)
Dallas Evans (Korean War)
Randall C. Evans (Afghanistan)
Chris Hamby (Iraq and Kosovo)
Wells Hamby, Jr. (Navy during peacetime)
A grateful nation may pay its tribute tomorrow and then again on Veterans' Day in October, but a grateful family remembers these men all year long. We are proud of their courage and willingness to act on their highest sense of right, and for those who are still with us we pray they return safely home soon.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
As year-round homeschoolers, I try to make sure we don't spend such holidays without making an effort to learn something from them or about them.
This year, before we embark on our picnic and play, we're going to learn about the history of Memorial Day and the poem In Flanders Fields written by WWI Canadian soldier John McCrae.
It's one of the few poems I cannot read without crying.
My daughters will have to read it aloud to me, and then they'll get to copy it in their own handwriting.
After that, we're going to talk about the life of the poet himself and the girls will write a short dictation about him.
There's a beautiful poppy picture to color, and a one-folder lapbook to make.
Somewhere in all of this, we've got little American flags to post in our front yard and I'll tell them once again about the brave men in their family who have served or are serving our country in peacetime and in the Iraq War, war in Afghanistan, Korean War, both world wars, the Civil War, the War of 1812, and the American Revolutionary War.
They are:
Dillon Blevins (American Revolutionary War)
Armstead Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins, Jr. (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Henry Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Benjamin Franklin Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Thomas Hamby (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Elijah T. Wells (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Leonard Hamby (WWI)
Howard I. Evans (for Canada, WWI)
Clifford Evans (WWII)
Lloyd Evans (WWII)
Howard Evans (WWII)
Dallas Evans (Korean War)
Randall C. Evans (Afghanistan)
Chris Hamby (Iraq and Kosovo)
Wells Hamby, Jr. (Navy during peacetime)
A grateful nation may pay its tribute tomorrow and then again on Veterans' Day in October, but a grateful family remembers these men all year long. We are proud of their courage and willingness to act on their highest sense of right, and for those who are still with us we pray they return safely home soon.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
The brilliant light from the back row
Longtime readers of this 'blog know I have a child with Asperger's Syndrome, a fancy name for high-functioning autism.
She danced in her fifth ballet recital this weekend and for the first time I saw my mother-in-law cry at the sight of it.
My daughter, while an enthusiastic ballerina, is not exactly the most polished dancer in her class. Her mind is often full of other things -- the music that's playing, her own image in the mirror, the shuffling and stepping of the other students in the room -- and this keeps her from focusing heavily on her own body posture and positioning.
The routine her teacher choreographed gave my daughter no quarter. She was expected to perform alongside the rest of her class and to learn all the same moves. Mercifully, her teacher understands the challenges of Asperger's and kept my daughter largely to the back of the configuration so that any mistakes would not be as obvious. While it's important to give people with Asperger's every opportunity to do their best, it's equally important to preserve their dignity in the event their best is not as good as the world thinks it should be.
A full dress rehearsal is always held the morning of the recital. Usually, the rehearsal is full of stops and starts, blocking the dancers on the stage, and finally the dance to music. The auditorium lights are up, people are talking, parents are fussing over last-minute costume fittings, makeup or hair, and stagehands are working out last-minute kinks in curtains, lighting and sound. All this contributes to a complete lack of focus for my daughter and this year's rehearsal was no exception.
Arms loose, legs flailing, eyes darting out to see if I was watching her, my daughter was anything but the picture of poise and confidence. She watched nearby dancers too closely. Had she not really learned the routine? She seemed perpetually out of step. Could she not hear the music? I smiled on the outside, but inside my heart sank a little. I began to dread the actual performance later that day.
Call time found me in line with my daughter and her younger sister who is also a ballet student and whose work is consistently high caliber. Among the extended family, my younger daughter is the dancer no one worries about and who everyone expects will do wonderfully. She never fails to disappoint. I'm proud of her achievements, but because they are the norm for her I confess to being less amazed than when my older daughter does something in a similar vein. I guess I was born to cheer for the underdog.
As I signed the girls in to the backstage holding area, I said a silent prayer over my oldest -- the verse from the Book of Timothy in which we are told that "God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of love, and of power, and of a sound mind."
Please, God. Please give her the soundness of mind she needs to pull this off. Remind her of the joy You gave her from birth, the love she has for music, and calm any anxiety she might be feeling.
I'm firmly convinced that God listens most closely when a mother is the one pleading her case. Those are often the most desperate of prayers.
Following a series of well-executed dances by other groups, my daughter's class came on to the stage and the music began.
Seated in the third row, I could clearly see my child but she could not see me thanks to the glare of the stage lights shining down. This was good. It meant she would not be seeking me out. It meant she would not see my inadvertent grimace should she make a misstep. I could cover any disappointment simply by sitting hidden in the dark.
As the music started and the dance commenced, something took hold of my struggling ballerina. She began to smile. No, not smile, beam. She began to beam as if someone had flipped the switch on a very bright light somewhere inside her spirit and its shine simply had to come forth.
Her steps seemed more sure. Her arms, for the most part, were held in proper position. She stood tall and confident and seemed to know where to go without having to look to a classmate for guidance. Even though she spent only a few moments somewhere other than on the back row throughout the whole routine, she never once stopped beaming.
My mother-in-law leaned in to me and said, "This is just wonderful. I can't keep from crying."
I knew what she meant.
For about three minutes, the brightest light in that whole auditorium came not from any spotlight but from the face of my daughter and I, too, gave up trying to hold back the tears.
For in him we live and move and have our being. As some of your own poets have said, "We are his offspring." Acts 17:28 (NIV)
She danced in her fifth ballet recital this weekend and for the first time I saw my mother-in-law cry at the sight of it.
My daughter, while an enthusiastic ballerina, is not exactly the most polished dancer in her class. Her mind is often full of other things -- the music that's playing, her own image in the mirror, the shuffling and stepping of the other students in the room -- and this keeps her from focusing heavily on her own body posture and positioning.
The routine her teacher choreographed gave my daughter no quarter. She was expected to perform alongside the rest of her class and to learn all the same moves. Mercifully, her teacher understands the challenges of Asperger's and kept my daughter largely to the back of the configuration so that any mistakes would not be as obvious. While it's important to give people with Asperger's every opportunity to do their best, it's equally important to preserve their dignity in the event their best is not as good as the world thinks it should be.
A full dress rehearsal is always held the morning of the recital. Usually, the rehearsal is full of stops and starts, blocking the dancers on the stage, and finally the dance to music. The auditorium lights are up, people are talking, parents are fussing over last-minute costume fittings, makeup or hair, and stagehands are working out last-minute kinks in curtains, lighting and sound. All this contributes to a complete lack of focus for my daughter and this year's rehearsal was no exception.
Arms loose, legs flailing, eyes darting out to see if I was watching her, my daughter was anything but the picture of poise and confidence. She watched nearby dancers too closely. Had she not really learned the routine? She seemed perpetually out of step. Could she not hear the music? I smiled on the outside, but inside my heart sank a little. I began to dread the actual performance later that day.
Call time found me in line with my daughter and her younger sister who is also a ballet student and whose work is consistently high caliber. Among the extended family, my younger daughter is the dancer no one worries about and who everyone expects will do wonderfully. She never fails to disappoint. I'm proud of her achievements, but because they are the norm for her I confess to being less amazed than when my older daughter does something in a similar vein. I guess I was born to cheer for the underdog.
As I signed the girls in to the backstage holding area, I said a silent prayer over my oldest -- the verse from the Book of Timothy in which we are told that "God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of love, and of power, and of a sound mind."
Please, God. Please give her the soundness of mind she needs to pull this off. Remind her of the joy You gave her from birth, the love she has for music, and calm any anxiety she might be feeling.
I'm firmly convinced that God listens most closely when a mother is the one pleading her case. Those are often the most desperate of prayers.
Following a series of well-executed dances by other groups, my daughter's class came on to the stage and the music began.
Seated in the third row, I could clearly see my child but she could not see me thanks to the glare of the stage lights shining down. This was good. It meant she would not be seeking me out. It meant she would not see my inadvertent grimace should she make a misstep. I could cover any disappointment simply by sitting hidden in the dark.
As the music started and the dance commenced, something took hold of my struggling ballerina. She began to smile. No, not smile, beam. She began to beam as if someone had flipped the switch on a very bright light somewhere inside her spirit and its shine simply had to come forth.
Her steps seemed more sure. Her arms, for the most part, were held in proper position. She stood tall and confident and seemed to know where to go without having to look to a classmate for guidance. Even though she spent only a few moments somewhere other than on the back row throughout the whole routine, she never once stopped beaming.
My mother-in-law leaned in to me and said, "This is just wonderful. I can't keep from crying."
I knew what she meant.
For about three minutes, the brightest light in that whole auditorium came not from any spotlight but from the face of my daughter and I, too, gave up trying to hold back the tears.
For in him we live and move and have our being. As some of your own poets have said, "We are his offspring." Acts 17:28 (NIV)
May 26, 2011
Why don't they just use duct tape?
The federal government has a new way to parent your children for you. Problem is, it's going to cost $500 million dollars.
According to Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius, the Race to the Top Early Learning Challenge will target children from birth to age 5 in an effort to make sure they're ready for school.
Sounds fine, if you're the sort that likes the government interfering in your business, right?
Wait until you hear what the feds are worried about.
CNSNews.com reports:
Sebelius, adding on to comments from Asst. Education Secretary Joan Lombardi, pointed to studies done in her home state of Kansas, where she served as governor. “When we looked at 5-year olds--and we tested about half the 5-year-olds in a relatively homogeneous state like Kansas -- and found that about half of them were not ready for kindergarten at age 5," Sebelius said.
"And some of those skills were missing: readiness for their math or reading," she said. "A number of children were missing the social and developmental skills which would allow them to sit in a classroom or play with others or listen to a teacher for any period of time. So I think it was an indicator that you couldn’t just test curriculum readiness.”
And this gem, also from Ms. Sebelius:
“You really need to look at the range of issues, because if a 5-year-old can’t sit still, it is unlikely that they can do well in a kindergarten class . . ."
Let me see if I've got this right. FIVE-YEAR-OLD children were "tested" for math and reading readiness. They were found lacking in social and developmental skills which would allow them to sit in a classroom and listen to a teacher for any period of time.
This is rocket science??????
They're FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is a problem that usually time, maturity, and patient training will solve unless some wingnut convinces a parent to drug their little energetic child into a trance, but I digress.
Have we all lost our minds? Have we forgotten what it means to be a little kid? When did normal, youthful exuberance become a disease to be cured? When did kindergarten become so regimented?
Duct tape will keep a child in his or her seat, and for a whole lot less than $500 million. Maybe we should rethink its use in schools after all.
According to Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius, the Race to the Top Early Learning Challenge will target children from birth to age 5 in an effort to make sure they're ready for school.
Sounds fine, if you're the sort that likes the government interfering in your business, right?
Wait until you hear what the feds are worried about.
CNSNews.com reports:
Sebelius, adding on to comments from Asst. Education Secretary Joan Lombardi, pointed to studies done in her home state of Kansas, where she served as governor. “When we looked at 5-year olds--and we tested about half the 5-year-olds in a relatively homogeneous state like Kansas -- and found that about half of them were not ready for kindergarten at age 5," Sebelius said.
"And some of those skills were missing: readiness for their math or reading," she said. "A number of children were missing the social and developmental skills which would allow them to sit in a classroom or play with others or listen to a teacher for any period of time. So I think it was an indicator that you couldn’t just test curriculum readiness.”
And this gem, also from Ms. Sebelius:
“You really need to look at the range of issues, because if a 5-year-old can’t sit still, it is unlikely that they can do well in a kindergarten class . . ."
Let me see if I've got this right. FIVE-YEAR-OLD children were "tested" for math and reading readiness. They were found lacking in social and developmental skills which would allow them to sit in a classroom and listen to a teacher for any period of time.
This is rocket science??????
They're FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is a problem that usually time, maturity, and patient training will solve unless some wingnut convinces a parent to drug their little energetic child into a trance, but I digress.
Have we all lost our minds? Have we forgotten what it means to be a little kid? When did normal, youthful exuberance become a disease to be cured? When did kindergarten become so regimented?
Duct tape will keep a child in his or her seat, and for a whole lot less than $500 million. Maybe we should rethink its use in schools after all.
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