A Birthday and Two Anniversaries

This past week has been more eventful than usual: for one thing, it was Rush guitarist Alex Lifeson's 70th birthday. For another, it was the 39th anniversary of when I met Jeff, the adult with autism for whom I've served as an advocate and a mentor since we met in 1984. And it was also the 15th anniversary of my being hired as a professor at Lesley University in Cambridge MA.

Each event was special in its own way-- both Alex and I marveled at the fact that we've remained in touch for nearly 50 years. Jeff, who doesn't always understand abstract concepts like the passage of time, absolutely understands that I've been there for him for quite a long while; and when I told him it was our 39th anniversary, he seemed pleased (and he wanted to know if we'd go out for an anniversary lunch, or perhaps cake and ice cream... or both). And as for being at Lesley for 15 years, that's kind of amazing too. 

As many of you know, I'm a working class kid, and I grew up in an era when nobody expected girls to accomplish much beyond finding a husband. (Don't get me wrong-- there is nothing wrong with finding a husband if that's your main goal. I'm glad I eventually married, but I also wanted a career, and back then, girls were told we couldn't have both. How times have changed...) So, I followed my dream, even when folks said I was wasting my time, and I ended up having a long career in broadcasting. I met some famous people, I helped some underappreciated people become better known, and I tried to be entertaining on the radio.

And when the industry changed and a lot of us were downsized, I reinvented myself, as many of you know. I went back to school at age 55, got my PhD at age 64, and became a full-time professor of media studies. Not bad for someone who was told she'd never succeed. I'm the first woman in my family to get a Masters degree, and the first to get a PhD, in fact.  Lesley hired me in 2008-- I had been working part-time at Emerson College in Boston, but they never offered me a full-time gig, and when Lesley did, I took it. And now, I've been there 15 years, and I'm getting ready for the Fall semester.

I feel very fortunate, especially since in December, I'll (hopefully) celebrate another anniversary-- I'll be nine years cancer free. Meanwhile, I'm grateful that Alex and I are still in communication, grateful that Jeff continues to do well, and grateful that at 76, I'm still able to bring home a paycheck. And in a world that can sometimes be chaotic, it's nice to know that some things haven't changed: there are still milestones to achieve, and opportunities to make a difference, and anniversaries to celebrate with people I love. 

       

When We Shout at the "Teacher of the Year"

Wherever you are on the political spectrum, I hope you share my view that just because you disagree with someone, that doesn't give you the right to scream at them or make threats. And yet, a lot of folks seem to believe it's okay to shout first and think about it later. I'm reading far too many articles about angry parents disrupting school board meeting by shouting and cursing at board members; or protesters demanding that librarians remove certain books immediately, and getting furious when their demands aren't met (or aren't met quickly enough). And don't even get me started on our politics, where you can find far too many angry people, stirred up by partisan talk show hosts, convinced that folks on the other side are the spawn of Satan. 

But I never thought I'd be reading about folks attacking the Teacher of the Year. The "Teacher of the Year" award was created back in the 1950s, during the presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower. It was intended to honor the teaching profession and highlight some great teachers. Every state in the United States has given this award, and until fairly recently, it was quite non-controversial.

Until it wasn't. The 2023 Idaho Teacher of the Year, Karen Lauritzen, was a veteran teacher who has taught in the Idaho schools for more than two decades and was widely respected. She was selected in a county that is overwhelmingly Republican, and where her teaching skills had never been questioned. She was delighted by the award, and eager to share the good news with her fourth graders. But what happened next was not so delightful. Seemingly out of nowhere, she found herself accused by conservative talk shows of being a "left-wing activist" who was "promoting transgenderism." She also received unexpected complaints from certain parents who claimed she was teaching sexual content to her students (she was not, and never had). And she was accused of teaching about inappropriate topics-- which ranged from teaching her students about customs from other cultures, to teaching them about the United Nations. 

The angry comments and complaints seem to have been based on someone finding a couple of posts she had made on her own social media account, in which she expressed support for diversity and inclusion. As someone who has also done this, I fail to see the problem. Teachers and professors are human beings, and they undoubtedly have opinions about current issues. As long as they don't impose those opinions on anyone, I don't see the harm. But in Idaho, some parents and talk show hosts decided Ms. Lauritzen was the enemy, and that is how they wanted her to be treated: in fact, they wanted her fired, no questions asked.

Sad to say, Ms. Lauritzen's experience was shared by Teacher of the Year winners in other states, including Nebraska, Kentucky, and Louisiana. Someone dug up a post that, on its face was not very controversial, but because it went against the beliefs of a certain segment of the population, or because someone disagreed with it, the teacher began getting angry emails, and the school board began getting demands that the teacher be removed. The so-called "Culture Wars" have been making it impossible for even the best teachers to do their jobs.

And in the end, many of these teachers are concluding that the distrust and the angry accusations (and often, the silence of the superintendent in their state) are not worth the aggravation. So, they are leaving. I'm not sure who benefits from that. I certainly know who loses-- the students. The Teacher of the Year is someone who demonstrates excellence at his or her job. So, why demonize and vilify them? Why shout at them? Why drive them from the profession? How did we get to a place where some folks think this is perfectly okay? 

I'll leave you with what Ms. Lauritzen told the Boston Globe several days ago. Explaining why teachers are leaving, she said it's because "they don’t feel valued... if you can’t pay them well, they at least need to feel that you value their judgment; they’re doing good things, and [they] have children’s best interest at heart. And when you take all that away — what’s left?”