Cost of Inclusion

July 26, 2008 in Reading Response
Tags: argument, asian, confidence, cost, courage, cuomo, cynical, democrats, difference, explain, government, governor, inclusion, islander, jerkwads, lesbian, mario, metaphor, pacific, priority, republicans, school, short, sighted, skill, steak, vision

Before I betray my feelings about a particular portion of Mario Cuomo’s keynote to the 1984 Democratic convention, please read it. This passage in particular sticks with me.

It’s an old story. It’s as old as our history. The difference between Democrats and Republicans has always been measured in courage and confidence. The Republicans — The Republicans believe that the wagon train will not make it to the frontier unless some of the old, some of the young, some of the weak are left behind by the side of the trail. “The strong” — “The strong,” they tell us, “will inherit the land.”

We Democrats believe in something else. We Democrats believe that we can make it all the way with the whole family intact, and we have more than once. Ever since Franklin Roosevelt lifted himself from his wheelchair to lift this nation from its knees — wagon train after wagon train — to new frontiers of education, housing, peace; the whole family aboard, constantly reaching out to extend and enlarge that family; lifting them up into the wagon on the way; blacks and Hispanics, and people of every ethnic group, and native Americans — all those struggling to build their families and claim some small share of America.

Cuomo characterizes Democrats with courage and confidence and, by comparison, he characterizes the Republicans as non-inclusionary jerkwads.

The Democrats will lift their fellow neighbor into the wagon of progress, be he black or white, hard-working or lazy. The Republicans expect you to climb in on your own recognizance. The Democrats want to improve the nation by helping individuals to lead better lives, while the Republicans want the improve the nation by letting individuals try. Each side accuses the other of being cynical, and each side praises itself for having faith in America. But the editorial we digresses.

Cuomo praises his party for being inclusionary, but, after a certain point, how much value really exists in being inclusionary? Universities, community colleges and technical schools are already inclusionary, and, once we work out the kinks in the system, every American will be on a level playing field in all the ways that matter.

If, after that level playing field, I find that my steak is rare and I wanted it to be cooked medium, I don’t care whether it was cooked by a white guy or a lesbian Asian-Pacific Islander. It wasn’t cooked correctly, and he-and-or-she had his chance.

In practical matters, and after school is done with, diversity cannot be the end-all and be-all. Yet, even today, Democrats echo that same, tired calling card of pluralism, and they echo it to exclusion.

It’s rather short-sighted for party that claims to have such vision.

Some Districts Learn Motivation from Alec Baldwin

June 25, 2008 in Personal Reflection, Reading Response
Tags: alec, baldwin, cadillac, classroom, edublog, edublogosphere, education, film, fired, glen, glengarry, jack, knives, lemmon, metaphor, motivation, movie, not safe for work, nsfw, rant, ross, speech, steak, teacher, teachers, you're, youtube

Technically, the following video is not safe for work. Personally, I think it’s perfect for work.

During Alec Baldwin’s tirade against the failing quality of this particular office, salesman Jack Lemmon responds with excuses.

The leads are weak, Lemmon says.

You’re weak, Baldwin says.

In this short clip from Glengarry Glen Ross — spoilers ahead — this exchange describes much of the working world, and most professions.

Let’s use education.

So many educators make excuses, as they try to make do with the alleged students in their classes. Some favorite excuses: It’s the family life at home; it’s the socioeconomic level; it’s that they’re learning English as a second language. Alec Baldwin character, transposed to education, could care less about these excuses.

In the movie, it’s Lemmon’s job to sell real estate. In education, it’s your job to teach children content, at the very least. but you’re having trouble with the group of kids you have, over at that urban school district. In this transposition, you are Lemmon.

Baldwin comes from downtown. He doesn’t care. Why aren’t your kids passing? You are a teacher: Teach. It isn’t that hard. They’re showing up, and are just waiting to learn. He knows: He has years of experience in education.

In the movie, when Lemmon gets a lead, he is paid to sell property to that investor. When you get children — sometimes you even get students — you are paid to teach them, whoever they are. That’s the bottom line, says Superintendent Baldwin.

Professionals can do it easily. If you can’t do it, you aren’t a professional.

No ifs. No ands. No buts.

Even late in his rant, Baldwin’s mentality easily translates to the teaching profession: I do have some positions at Glen Ross Unified, that golden, trouble-free district in a wealthy part of Florida — but you can’t have even interview for them. That district is for teachers, and you peons aren’t very good teachers at all if you can’t teach who you have, already. If your students right now aren’t learning, you can’t teach anyone.

There are a lot of Baldwin characters angry at education in this country. They don’t care about your excuses. They care about your results. If you don’t have results, you’re worthless. Excuses just prove it, and so Lemmon does himself a disservice by offering up his excuses.

Yet some excuses are legitimate. Sometimes, just sometimes, the cards are as stacked against you as you claim they are. That students have a rocky home life is important, and does affect the effectiveness of your teaching. That students can’t speak much less read English, yet, will affect their score on the test. When the cards are stacked against you, you really can’t do anything about it.

As Lemmon finds out at the end of the movie, this was exactly the case. The cards were almost purposefully stacked against him, and Baldwin isn’t his enemy. He had been all-but doomed even before Baldwin showed up and made all that noise.

To wit: In both the movie and the field of education, Baldwin’s appearance didn’t raise the difficulty of success. It raised the stakes of failure.

First prize: Cadillac. Second prize: steak knives. Third prize: you’re fired.

That’s motivation.