Free-For-All Fridays

Mockery—The Permissible Form of Bullying?

Working against bullying is a big deal in schools, as well it should be. I’ve seen workshops, policies, text hotlines, and more. Some efforts seem more effective than others, and for some, I really have no idea whether they work or not. When teens already know they shouldn’t do something, does telling them it’s wrong again really stop them if they’re so inclined?

Not sure. The main things I feel I can do are make it clear that I won’t tolerate bullying in my classroom, and more importantly, set a good example.

Sometimes I wonder what kind of example we set amongst ourselves, though. Especially in this age of social media.

As I browse through my Twitter lists, it’s mostly fun, games, and good information. There are also opinions, which are great. What’s not so great is when opinions are of a type akin to “Anyone who thinks this way/votes this way/belongs to this party or organization is an idiot AND a lesser human being.”

I’m nowhere near perfect, but whenever I disagree with someone, I do try to come at it from an angle that isn’t judging them as a person. It takes a lot of effort—sometimes a crap-ton of effort, sometimes more effort than I can manage—but often I can get myself to the following head-space:

Their view on this is the total opposite of mine. We couldn’t disagree more on this. But I see where they’re coming from, and coming from there, what they think is reasonable for them. I still believe what I think is reasonable for me. We see it differently, and that’s okay.

I have friends all along various spectrums—political, religious, whatever—so this mindset is very important to me. They’re fabulous people—even the ones who hate math!

If a student vocally, stridently denigrated (for instance) people who buy into creationism, or gay people, or people who own guns, or people who have a live-in boyfriend … if they did that in the middle of class, knowing there’s every likelihood that someone in the room falls into that category, would we let it go?

Why, then, is it okay to watch a political party convention (either one) and go to town with mocking tweets, declaring the utter stupidity of everyone associated with that party?

Because we’re adults and should be able to take it? Isn’t that the old response to bullying? “You need to toughen up and just take it.” Because we’re free to fight back? That always goes well.

My opinion (and yes, just my opinion, so you can disagree): The way forward is in understanding. Not necessarily agreement. Definitely not homogeneity. But understanding where other views come from, and trying to find common ground.

Mockery closes doors and raises walls. My hope is that we all (myself included) will remember to think before we tweet (or post, or whatever). Who will be on the receiving end? Might I be actively insulting them by saying this?

Are my words hiding hate behind a veil of snark?

And what kind of example am I setting for future generations?

Speak up:

3 comments

The Teenage Human as Observed in the Wild

… the “Wild” being a local junior high school, and the specimens under study being around fourteen years of age.

This list will be random and undoubtedly incomplete.

• Teenagers have a dysfunctional sense of auditory volume. No, I don’t mean they play their music too loud (because, well, so do I). They talk too loud when they don’t want the teacher to hear them and too soft when they do.

• They have an amazing capacity to disregard (or at least not notice) the needs of anyone other than themselves.

• They have an amazing capacity to assist with others’ needs with no prompting or incentive.

• They still say thank you.

• They leave messes just like they do at home.

• They clean up better than they do at home.

• Most of them can grade their own work on the honor system just fine.

• Many are happy to read with any spare moment in class.

• A few are Rubik’s Cube geniuses.

• Some broadcast their emotions from fifty feet away.

• Some have very non-emotive faces. You have to watch their eyes.

• They will surpass your expectations.

• They will live down to your expectations.

• They will smash your expectations.

• They see each other differently than we see them.

• They don’t mind geeky adults (as long as the geeky adults care).

• They laugh at dirty jokes.

• They laugh at clean jokes.

• They laugh at dumb jokes that have been retold since they were in first grade.

• They don’t know what to do when they’re angry.

• They don’t know what to do when they’re sad.

• They know exactly what to do.

• They don’t want to be treated like children.

• They don’t want to be treated like adults (not 100% full-time, at least).

• Some already have to act like adults.

• Some think they’re more on top of things than they are.

• Some think they’re less capable than they are.

• Even the quietest have distinctive, interesting personalities. “Mary Sue” and the bland, empty-beaker persona don’t exist … and if they appear to, you’re not looking hard enough.

Speak up:

5 comments

What is Genius?

I admit, I’ve been called a genius before.

I also admit this was by young-ish people who knew I controlled their grade. Or who were easily impressed by my mathematical abilities.

As much as I appreciate the compliment, I’m no genius. Not by official standards, anyway. I test well, but not that well. I have moments of cleverness, but too many of them strike me long after the needed moment. I do plenty of stupid things.

You know, I bet certified geniuses do stupid things sometimes, too.

And I bet to some students, I am a genius … in a way that has nothing to do with MENSA.

So unofficially, what is genius?

It’s not about passing tests (and I say that as an ace test-taker … near meaningless in my opinion). It’s not necessarily about book-smarts, though there’s nothing wrong with having those. Traditionally, book-smarts is about regurgitating information, re-creating someone else’s genius.

To me, a genius is someone whose ideas or works spark a feeling of newness, differentness, freshness in my mind. Sounds a lot like having creativity and imagination, and those may be part of it. But I’m not sure they’re required, either.

I think that spark of newness explains why some students call me a genius. I may talk about mathematics (or anything else) in a way they haven’t heard before. It sparks a new connection.

Under that definition, genius is relative. It depends on our own experiences, expectations, and priorities. No membership cards, no certifications … just our own acknowledgement of each other.

I kind of like it better that way. Maybe I’m a genius to some of my students. Many of them have been geniuses to me.

Who are some unacknowledged geniuses in your life?

Speak up:

5 comments

"Thank You" Isn’t Dead

I’m finishing out the first week of school. It’s been a busy week, in an uneventful way. More students to teach than I’ve had in the last six years combined. Using my voice all the time (and trying to restrict my hand movements).

I remember one thing that struck me back when I started at my last school, working with deaf kids. A lot of them would say thank you when I was handing out papers. Part of me wanted to say, “I just gave you a calculus test—what are you thanking me for?” Really, though, I appreciated it.

Yet this week, it struck me again. Kids getting up to leave at the end of class, several of them thanking me as they walk out.

Teenagers, mind you. Around fourteen years old, most of them.

Yes, teenagers can be cynical. Teenagers can be rude.

They can also be awesome.

Pretty much like the rest of us.

Speak up:

3 comments

The Comfort of Inertia

When I mention inertia, here’s one of the first things that comes to mind.

“An object in motion will stay in motion and an object at rest will stay at rest unless acted upon by a net force.”

Generally applied to physics, but so true in other areas. It’s so easy to keep doing what we’ve been doing, and keep not doing what we haven’t been doing.

As a teacher, it’s easy to teach as I’ve always taught. As a writer, it’d be easy to write the way I’ve always written. I’ve done it before, so I know I can do it. Continuing to do it is no problem at all.

Inertia is so darn comfortable.

You know what isn’t comfortable? Growth.

Growth hurts. Growth feels awkward. Growth is trying to put on clothes that were designed for a body type very different from mine.

But if we push ourselves through that discomfort, we stretch. Our shape changes. We mold into something new.

And just as that new place starts to feel comfortable, we find the next new thing we need to put on.

(Now I have this vision of people made of clay. Just roll with it.)

I have new things to try this year as a teacher. I have areas to improve in with my writing. It’s uncomfortable and awkward.

It’s also necessary.

If I let inertia carry me, what’s the point of having a brain at all?

Where do you find yourself getting caught in inertia? How do you push yourself out of those ruts?

Speak up:

5 comments

The Awesomeness of Terrible/Wonderful, No-Good/Very-Rad Days

Remember a couple of months ago, how I had the most hectic day ever, yet it was still awesome?

It happened again recently, where my “real life” had me pretty occupied, yet my “literary life” demanded sudden attention.

Here’s the upshot of it, as reported in the Publishers Weekly Children’s Bookshelf:

Catherine Onder at Disney has acquired debut author R.C. Lewis’s Stitching Snow, a sci-fi YA thriller due out in summer 2014. In the book, a royal teen runaway is scraping together a living in a mining settlement on the far side of the universe, until she is discovered and “rescued” against her will. Jennifer Laughran at Andrea Brown Literary Agency brokered the two-book, six-figure pre-empt.

Mind = boggled … maybe even scrambled Saturday-morning-egg style.

Thanks to friends who’d been through the process before me, I’d been prepared for the long slog of submissions. More months of waiting, more rejections, maybe some close calls where we didn’t quite get through acquisitions. Even when we had whispers of possible good news, my stupendous agent was great about keeping me grounded. Yay, step in the right direction! But nothing’s guaranteed.

I was ready for that, I think. But I was very fortunate things fell into place just as they did. Maybe I just shouldn’t bother having expectations anymore, because nothing ever turns out quite as I expect.

I’m beyond grateful to Jennifer for everything she’s done and continues to do. She pushes me in just the right ways. I also have amazing critique partners. Big group-hug to everyone at AgentQuery Connect. Mindy in particular (Yo, BBC!) has talked me off the ledge more than once. (You know the ledge … the one every writer visits now and then that says, “I Can’t Do This!”)

So, what does this all mean?

It means it’s time to get to work.

*rolls up sleeves*

*dives in*

Speak up:

19 comments