Not a Rhetorical Question

A friend of mine (hi Melissa!) posted this wonderful article today: What Ruth Bader Ginsberg Taught Me About Being a Stay At Home Dad at The Atlantic.

going off on a tangent here: either The Atlantic has become really wonderful in the past 2-3 years or I have grown into reading their work. Either way, they're doing great and they should carry on. 

In addition to a lot of wonderful anecdotes about the Notorious R.B.G., author Ryan Park talks about the difficulties in being a stay-at-home dad for a year while his wife was finishing her rotation in pediatrics at Georgetown. This year was after he had spent a year clerking for Justice Ginsberg, which seems like a step down... until you read his article.

Of course, if you read anything at all about staying at home with kids, you'll wind up reading about Swedish family leave policies. To the point where I honestly rolled my eyes when I first came across it in this article and thought, "Oh sweet Moses, it's Sweden again." Anyway, Park talks about his friend who is married to a Swede and she went home to have her baby. He took a 5 week paternity leave from his residency in the US and was roundly mocked for it by his peers.

Yadda, yadda Sweden is sooooo amazing... but I got to this paragraph (talking about his American friend married to the Swede and moving to Sweden after the baby was born):

Despite his joy at becoming a father, the drudgery of life with a newborn didn’t sit well with him. His wife, a doctor at the same institution, agreed to stay home for the rest of the couple’s allotted time. But on his return to work, the hospital’s leaders pulled him aside and delivered a stern lecture on the poor example he was setting. He was soon back to changing diapers and warming bottles, and the couple redistributed their leave more evenly.

This resonated with me. I've now been a mom for 12+ years. I took a 12 week maternity leave with both of my kids. With our firstborn, my husband took 2 weeks off, but because our son was born during football season, he had to work a little during that time. The university where I worked gave a paid 8 week leave. I had to tell my boss about FMLA (9 years after it was put into law) in order to take an additional 4 weeks as unpaid leave because she was really sticking by that 8 week number. 

With our second, my husband also took 2 weeks off and I took 12, but I recall him working a lot more during that time mainly because he had to take so much time off when I was pregnant with #2 and had a lot of drama. And I remember both times people PRAISING him for staying home with me. I know a lot of women with husbands who were back at work a day or two later because they had to be there or they would lose their jobs. In addition to that, I went back to teaching in mid-May. My husband took #2 with him in his little playpen to work until mid-June when I would be home with the baby again. He's kind of a rock star. 

Aside: shortly after the birth of the first, we were living in the south and I cannot even tell you how many times I would hear friends says "my husband is babysitting the kids tonight." I wanted to scream

 HE IS NOT BABYSITTING 

HE IS THEIR FATHER 

IT IS PART OF HIS JOB. 

But I didn't. Sometimes I said it nicely. Sometimes I didn't say it at all. And if someone asked me, "who's watching the kids?" I would say, "Their dad, because he's their dad." 

Back to the topic: I never wanted to stay home with the kids. With our first, I was home 5 months because we moved to South Carolina when he was 3 months old and I couldn't find a job. I was only home with him for 5 months because I went back to school. I really hated being a stay-at-home mom. 

My husband, despite having a new job, supported my going back to school. He cared for our son in amazing ways. He let me lock myself in our room and work on lesson plans and my graduate thesis and all kinds of ridiculousness. He was the primary earner and the primary caretaker of our son for a year and a half and it is an investment for which I will always be grateful. 

With the 2nd, I was home with him for a year. Again, because of a move- this time we moved from South Carolina to Virginia. Again, I couldn't find a job. But this time, I made a concerted effort to enjoy my time at home. Or at least, not wallow in my misery. I made a ridiculous effort to meet moms with similar aged kids and hang out with them as much as my little introverted heart could handle.

In the summer after we moved, the boys and I were fixtures at the local pool. We swam every day for 16 days before a rainy day closed the pool. When school started for #1, I ended up getting a membership to the indoor pool which was heated but still pretty cold. #2 and I could tolerate it for about a half hour before we would go warm up in the shower, but let me just say that #2 swims like a pro and has never taken a lesson. We went to the park. We went to the library. We went to the children's museum. I was seriously aggressive in my wanting to be in public with my kid(s).  

Then, after 14 months of staying at home, I got a job, a wonderful job, a job I still have and love. 

I happily sent my child off to daycare/pre-school for a year until he started kindergarten and I have never looked back. 

BUT.

What if it was different for us here in the US? (we've finally reached the not a rhetorical question part of this essay). Would I have felt differently about staying at home with the kids? Would they be different people? Because they're pretty awesome kids, I don't know if I would want to change them. 

But if it was widely accepted that BOTH parents stay home at some point, would we all feel differently about staying at home? 

How do we change this? There's so much talk about how the US is at the bottom of the list, internationally, for parental leave of any sort. 

I have a self-selected sample among my friends, but seriously, almost everyone is in favor of this. Even the non-parents, because parents come to work sick because of their little germ vectors kids and the parents get the non-parents sick, and who needs that? Stay home if you're sick!!! 

This is totally from pulledoutofmyass.com, but If ALL parents, regardless of socio-economic status, had a chance to be with their kids more, would we see less mindless consumption? Would parents be less likely to spoil their kids with crap they don't need because they wouldn't feel quite so guilty about spending so much time away from them? 

Would we see better educational outcomes with our kids because parents wouldn't catch shit from their employers for having to go to a conference with the teacher? 

What can we do to change this? Why does it seem to be such an uphill battle in the US to make reforms that will support the entire population? Even if you're not a parent, you were a kid once! 

Additional reading, if you're so inclined... a quick trip down the Google rabbit hole brought me these:

• Parental Leave: the Swedes Are the Most Generous from NPR
• The actual official website of the country of Sweden: 10 Things That Make Sweden Family Friendly

I'm not gonna lie...

Why Teachers Lie About Their Classrooms - at The Atlantic

I don't lie about my teaching. I'm just never going to tell you the whole truth.

Yes, there's a kid who is falling asleep/cheating/texting while another kid has an epiphany. And tomorrow, the roles could be reversed. I literally don't care about the kid not paying attention.

When I was in the classroom, and now when I have group or individual sessions, or when I'm recording a lecture, I give 100% of myself to my students. I give that 100% to the students who give me 100% back. On any given day, that student could be a different person.

I don't hold it against them. If you and your mom got in a fight before school and she took your phone, you're probably distracted and not paying attention. It's nothing personal.

In my last 2 years in the classroom, the phrase "I'm not gonna lie..." was extremely popular. It would often precede a statement not worth lying about. "I'm not gonna lie, this was the best chicken biscuit ever. "

Sometimes, it preceded a hard truth. "I'm not gonna lie, class was really boring today, L-Mar."

I appreciated their honesty mainly because it gave me an opportunity to respond. Usually, it was, "You're right, the Puritans suck and I can't wait to be done with them." This was followed by laughter on both sides- they're not used to teachers admitting that something they teach is pretty awful (sorry, dear reader, if you like the Puritans).  And secondly, they saw me as a human. Which will lead to more "I'm not gonna lie... " statements in the future, which will lead to a better teacher-student relationship, which will lead to more learning.

Other times, it gave me the opportunity to notice that while the rest of the class was heatedly discussing the evils of Commie-chasing, this student was completely checked out and bored.

"Why were you bored?" "It was dumb."

"What's going on in your other classes?" "Ugh, everything is so lame right now. I think all of you teachers decided not to do anything interesting this week."

" How are things between you and your brother/mom/dad?" "My dad moved out yesterday."
(me, silently... AND THERE WE HAVE IT.)

also applies to teaching.

When I talk to my colleagues at lunch that day, do I share how the Puritans suck? Nope. I'm going to tell them about how my 2nd block was SUPER ENGAGED and everyone was making AWESOME CONNECTIONS between the Red Scares of the 1920s and 1950s.

I'm not gonna lie, but after you've been teaching a while, you get selective memory. You remember the awesome stuff and there seems to be more of it every day. You remember the really horrible stuff. But you don't remember the stuff in between.

Old, and getting older.

There have been a lot of things written about the age of people who are involved with church.

What we can do to keep the next generation (if you only read one, read this one- it really spoke to me)
Congregations getting older
How churches can bring young people back from (ugh) Fox News

As I sat around a table with fellow parents of kids from 6th-12th grade last Sunday, I realized something that I know my Assistant Rector who is in charge of youth programs and the Rector who is just in charge in general realized ages ago- we have a problem.

The problem isn't with the kids. It's with the parents. The kids can't get there by themselves.

My kid had never, not once, been to Sunday school. I wouldn't take him. The only reason I went last week is because I have such fond memories of youth group when I was in middle and high school. I also have some not-fond memories, but whatever, everyone has stuff like that in middle & high school. Anyway, I didn't take him before, because for adults, Sunday school is sitting and listening to someone. And then go to church, and listen to someone else. I do not have the patience for that. I need some interaction. I need discussion. I need problem solving. I want to be with my peers, too. And my peers aren't at church. Well, not many of them.

The alternative to listening to someone was teaching, but I didn't want to teach to little kids. I don't like little kids. I teach high school for a reason. But women always get asked to teach little kids. And I teach 5 days a week already. I didn't really want to go teach on yet another day. As it is, I teach 2-3 children church sessions a year, and I dread each one.

I love my church leaders, they are amazing humans, and I know they have very full plates, and I don't want to tell them no. So I just avoid them. Sorry. I know you're reading this. You probably already figured that out, though. I know it's passive aggressive of me.

As I was looking around, I realized 2 things:

• There was no one there who looked like me. I have purple streaks in my hair and a nose ring. I was wearing blue glitter nail polish. I was also wearing clothes from Banana Republic, before you get this image of me wearing a Slayer shirt with a mohawk and a tattoo on my neck (it's on my ankle). I'm not that rebellious, but sometimes I stand out in a white bread crowd. And yet...
• Everyone looked like me. We were all white, middle/upper middle class people between 39 (I'm fairly confident I'm the youngest) and 55ish? 60? I don't know. I'm not great with ages of people who are older than I am.  

I've been mulling this over for the past couple of days. I go to a small church in a midsized but rural town. I go to an Episcopal church which has kept ties with the Diocese and the area is fairly conservative. But the town I live in also has a university, which means by it's very nature has some random social liberals wandering the streets. 

These social liberals have kids. I know, because my kids play with them at summer camp, at school, in the neighborhood. A couple of them go to my church. And the ones who do are pretty cool people. But not enough of them are there. 

I grew up in the precursor to a mega church. It was perfectly normal to have 600-700 people on a regular Sunday. Wednesday night youth group would commonly pack the youth room with kids sitting on the floor after the chairs were gone- 50+ kids on a regular basis. None of the leaders were parents of kids who were in the room. They were college students and young married couples. 

Part of the delight of the youth group was the idea that we were always doing things that our parents would have probably not enjoyed. Singing as loudly as possible? Check. Randomly breaking out into tears over various teenage angst coupled with emotional spirituality? Check. Having that guy reach over and take my hand during prayer and not letting go when it was finished? Check. Wash dishes for an entire camp of people and stick my hands into disgusting drains to clean out the food? Check. 

I doubt any of those things would have happened if my parents were there. I would have gone- I would have been forced to go- but I would have been guarded. I would have been intentionally difficult to deal with. 

After this meeting on Sunday, I realized the draw of the "mega church."  I've been to a mega church. I didn't like it. It felt too fake. But it's easy to get your kids involved. You can plug them into a community that will reinforce some kind of values which you hopefully approve of through peer pressure and adults who aren't their parents. And if you choose to, you can not be involved at all. 

I always thought I would be involved with a youth group. I never thought it would be while my own child (or children) was in it. But when I tried to get involved as a college student, I was discouraged from doing so. I was too young, the kids in the youth group were too old and too close to my age, I wanted to change things too much- this was at a different church than the one I grew up in- and there was a strong undercurrent of "and you are too female, which is not ok with us." So it's been about 20 years since I've gotten active with church, and I'm kind of dragging my feet right now. 

Agent N, the 6th grader, needs to do some stuff without me around. He needs to have positive influences in people who aren't his parents. He needs to sing and yell and dance and cry without us watching. But we go to a small church in a midsized town, and so one of us will be watching sometimes. I'm going to try to get involved with other kids but it's hard when you hear your child's voice yelling (Agent N's normal volume) to focus on something or someone else. And it's hard to talk to kids you don't know when you're... like me. I'm a good teacher because it gives me an in- I have something to talk about. And then the kids tell me stuff, so we have something to talk about together. But put me in a room with random people, especially random teenagers, and I'm awkward as hell. I was about 1000 times more confident when I was a teenager. Now I'm a teenager in an adult body. 

And this brings us back around to the beginning. The church has an age problem. Where are the parents? Where are the college students? I have avoided getting involved because of the demands on my time. But if more people got involved, there would be fewer demands on everyone's time because there would be more people to share the workload. But in order to get someone to want to take part of the work, they have to buy in to the concept. 

I don't even know where we go from here. 

I'M STILL TEACHING.

This is the time of year when teachers leave their classrooms.

Some for a month or two. Usually they're back in a classroom of some sort for continuing ed over the summer, but it's not their classroom.

Some forever.

The Tough Decision To Leave the Classroom: from I am J Wal

Why I'm Leaving at United Opt Out.com

And Jason Pittman who reached national prominence with his story on This American Life, a year ago.  (PS: a personal note on this- don't talk about him on the TAL page on Facebook or he will send you a private message full of snide remarks about your finances, whether or not your husband makes enough to support your vanity job of teaching, and your actual ability to teach. True story. I'm actually glad this asshole is out of the classroom.)

When thinking about this post, I looked for blogs on why to stay. The best one: Why I Teach. It's not an individual, it's a collection of stories. It's inspirational. 

me, while reading the Why I Teach stories.

Why I Stay: 

I've taught the whole spectrum of students: poor, rich, English speakers, non-English speakers, college level courses to 15 year olds, and during the very next class I've taught 16 year olds reading on a 2nd grade level. 

I've been cried on and spit on. 

I've been swung at and hugged. 

I've been loved and hated. 

I've watched some kids rise and others fall. 

I've cried and laughed with my students. 

I've had wonderful administrators and horrible administrators. 

I've loved and hated my job. 

I've done many things well and I've made epic mistakes. 

Before teaching, I've worked for private businesses, public universities, and government institutions. And I know that I took a pay cut to teach. But I also know that when people say that you are respected in the business world, they are full of shit. I am afforded equal amounts of respect as a teacher as I was doing anything else. 

Not as much as I deserve:  that's how much respect I used to get and it's how much I get today. 

I did not feel more valued as a human outside of teaching. People are more open about their disrespect now- teachers can be openly disrespected, especially by parents. But disrespect is endemic in our society and nothing I did in the non-teaching sector made me feel any more respected. 

Most important than the respect of others, I value myself more highly as a teacher. 

A lot of these blogs about people leaving the classroom mention that they are award winning. I've won an award or two. Mainly I'm award nominated. I don't win a lot of awards. I don't try to. 

Leo feels my pain.

When I was in college, I thought I wanted to work in politics. I did for a while. The rush from campaigning was awesome. The day to day operations were tedious. 

That rush and the lack of it led me to change jobs every 2 years for a while. I decided to go back to school to become a teacher. And now I'm finishing my 9th year teaching, virtual or otherwise. 

It's fun for me. It's a rush. 

Everyday is an election: will they vote to learn? 

Every day I'm the majority whip: you better vote to learn! If you don't know what the whip is, I'm sorry you didn't pay attention in government class. Now go look it up.

Just like the whip, I have strategies. Will they need coddling? Coercion? Threats? Bribes?

Some days I use the right tactics and I win the battle. Some days I don't and I lose the battle. But the battle is not between me and them. I'm on their side. The battle is between me and everything else vying for their attention. 

Friends. Enemies. Parent pressure. Hunger. Abuse. Peer pressure. Violence. Gangs. Family issues. Expectations. Anxiety. Boredom. Technology. Alcohol. Sex. Drugs. Rock & roll. 

Despite losing battles, I win the war every year. 

Do I always follow the rules? You've heard the saying, "All's fair in love and war" ... right? 

I'm going to keep fighting the battles until I am carted off the field. My students will salute me and say that I always fought on their side. 

Nerd guys, jock guys, all kinds of guys. #yesallwomen

There are countless posts about that guy that killed his roommates and then some women because he was involuntarily celibate (his words).

Shooter Leaves Digital Trail - in case you don't have the story.

And then I've read two great responses to this from guys who somewhat identified with the killer:
Overcome Your Programming
Your Princess Is In Another Castle: Misogyny, Entitlement, and Nerds

Let's start at the beginning: To have a good relationship, whether friendship, dating, marriage, whatever, both parties have to be on the same level.

Guys, if you like her more than she likes you, it won't work.
Girls, if you like him more than he likes you, it won't work.

I have been on both ends of this equation. I have really liked a guy (multiple times) who was not at all into me in that way. And I have been really liked by guys who I have not wanted to make out with.

No one is entitled to anything. I didn't realize that the hardest thing to teach my kids is this: your body is your own. No one else's. And when someone says stop, you stop. This is true whether you are arm wrestling or kissing.

As a teacher, I have seen and will continue to see the self-proclaimed "nice guy" who never has a date. I have seen and will continue to see the hot girls that every guy thinks they should go out with.

Not everyone is like this, so read the following with the understanding that I am going to make some generalizations. This is drawn from years of talking with kids who have confided in me about their personal issues.

When a girl likes a guy and he doesn't like her back, her response is to wonder what she did wrong. She wonders: am I too fat? Too skinny? Too tan? Too pale? Too smart? Too dumb? Too blonde? Not blonde enough? And then she sets out to fix those things for him. 

When a guy likes a girl and she doesn't like him in return, his response is to project what he sees as being wrong with her. She's dumb, she's fat, she's a slut, she only wants a rich guy, she's racist. Not all guys, but a lot of guys. Nice guys. Quiet guys. Smart guys. Dumb guys.

Here's the thing: if you complain about your lot in life and don't do anything about it, that is your problem. I hear stories of the nice guys who are so busy complaining and bemoaning their lack of hot girlfriend that they don't realize that the perfectly nice and also attractive girl is willing to date you.

What if that girl set out to fix things for herself? What if she is happy the way she is and she just realized that guy wasn't a good fit for her?

What if that guy set out to fix some things for himself? And what if he realized that he's fine the way he is and that girl just isn't a good fit for him?

When we set realistic expectation for ourselves in other areas of our lives, our peers (usually) don't give us shit. I don't want to be national teacher of the year. I just want to be good at what I do. My friends don't give me shit for that. They don't say that the NTOY people don't know what they're missing. I think George Clooney is attractive. I don't think he's an asshole for not dating me. We're both kind of busy.

I mean. Seriously.

But when people, guys in particular, set reasonable expectations for themselves, their dudebro friends will pile on the shit. The hot girl doesn't know what she's missing, and the perfectly normal, non-supermodel type is desperate.

When girls set reasonable expectations, they're desperate or slutty and that's just bullshit.

Lastly, more than anything else, you should realize that....

There is always, always someone in a similar situation. Quit obsessing. And if you can't quit obsessing, find a professional. 

I'm Judging You. (not you, personally, but that other person)

If You Let Your Teenage Daughter Sleep In On A School Day - at the New Yorker

I cannot handle this. I. CANNOT.

I get that it's supposed to be a joke about the children's book If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
I get it.

I'm judging this twofold.

1. As a parent. Don't let your punk-ass daughter sleep in on a school day. If she does, she's sick, and she stays home, in bed, all day. That's it. Full stop. You take her to lunch? You get her a haircut? Fuck no. That's what the weekend is for. Mom, you are a fucking pushover. You are a pathetic excuse for a parent.

I get it- she had lacrosse til all hours and then stayed up doing her homework. Her boyfriend broke up with her and she cried all night. Her best friend bought the same prom dress in a different color and a size smaller and now they're not speaking. Not only am I a mom now, but I was a teenage girl once. A horrible, awful, unbearably dramatic teenage girl.

And you know what I learned? Shit happens. But unless you are sick, you get your ass out of bed and go to school. That's how it works. You get your sorry ass to school.


2. As a teacher. I would bet this mom calls her daughter on her phone while she knows the daughter is in class and then when the daughter gets in trouble, the mom makes excuses. Then she talks shit about the teacher so the kid has no respect for the teacher- if there was any to begin with.

Please, mom, teach your daughter that education is important. That responsibilities and obligations are important. That if she's tired, she should go to bed earlier. If stuff happens, you're tired for a day, and then you take a nap when you get home. That if you prioritize, you can work on your essay over the course of 3 days instead of working on it 7 hours in one night.

Mom, teach your daughter how to be a reliable, responsible, valuable member of society. That's your job. I'm going to help you do that, but I can't do it alone. You have to show her how important it is.

My Thoughts on Non-Weight Lifting Days

• I should work out today
• Ok, I'm going to work out
• What am I going to do? 
• I hate cardio. 
• It's rainy outside, I'm going to the gym. 
• It's beautiful outside, there is no way I'm going to the gym. 
• I guess I should run. 
• I'll do intervals. 
• Why do I live in such a hilly neighborhood? 
• I should go to the park. 
• All the parks have hills, too. 
• I should get new running shoes. 
• I don't need new shoes, these ones are fine. 
• I should probably get new shoes but they're so expensive. 
• I wonder if anyone would take my old shoes as a donation? They're in good shape, kind of. 
• I should ask my friends if anyone they know is doing one of those shoe drives for Africa. 
• Where are my headphones? 
• Where are my sunglasses? 
• At least I know where my visor is. 
• Ew, this thing is crusty. 
• It's such a nice day! 
• Just call me Princess Fanny Pack. 
• Better fanny pack than broken phone though, right? 
• I only have 6 months left on my phone contract! Can't wait to get a new one! 
• All of my neighbors have better landscaping. 
• I wonder what that tree/bush/flower is called? I want one. 
• (phone says: 1 mile completed) Yeah, one mile! Woo! One more? Sure. Beside, you're not even close to home. 
• Walking up hills is way better than running. 
• Look at me running down this hill! Weeeeeeee!
• Am I done yet? 
• I'll sprint to that mailbox.
• I am not a sprinter. 
• Feeling pretty good. I bet I'm running pretty fast. 
• I'm going to take a detour. 
• I can't believe that only added .2 miles! I thought for sure it would be .5. 
• Almost home! 
• Should I add another detour? 
• I swear that one is uphill both ways. 
• I think I'm done. 
• Wow, I feel great! 
• I should do that again. 
• In a month.