Team Weirdo

If you google the phrase, “Tips for being a successful leader if you are an introvert”, in 0.30 seconds there are 18.9 million results. On the flip side, googling “Tips for being a successful leader if you are an extrovert”, in 0.30 seconds only 28.1 million results pop up. Even if you just take a look at the first few top articles that pop up, on the introverted side most of the articles are written from the standpoint of “overcoming” your introverted tendencies. How to be “less yourself” to fit into the perceived demands of a leadership role. Tips for “Recharging” in your personal life so that you have the energy to lead during your professional life. Meanwhile, the articles for extroverts have a more positive tone regarding “leveraging your strengths to achieve your professional goals”, or simply list out all of the positive attributes that extroverts have that allegedly make them innately suited to leadership roles. None of the articles that I found in a quick cursory search were geared toward “toning yourself down for the sake of those that you lead”, or “how to be more introverted”, while the introvert articles were almost all geared to how a person could adjust their natural tendencies/preferences to be more “appealing” to their team or to “fit in better” rather than mentioning any of the strengths that introversion might bring to a role. The one exception tended to be the trait of being a good listener – which is consistently mentioned as an important trait for impactful leaders to have (and a strength of introverts); and was mentioned as one area where some extroverts have to intentionally focus as it may not just come “naturally”. I would not describe myself as either completely introverted or extroverted. I recently came across a new word: AMBIVERT. I first experienced the word in a LinkedIn Post from a colleague who had shared it from Eric Partaker.

Partaker’s graphic doesn’t directly address leaders – in fact it is a cheat sheet FOR leaders on how to engage their quieter or more introverted employees. As a person, and as a leader, I am a proud Ambivert. I can easily give a presentation to a crowded room with minimal nerves and be relatively engaging (at least per the PD surveys I’ve gotten back), but I can also be quiet and deeply reflective and disengage from overly boisterous social scenarios. Extroversion does not come natural to me – I can utilize those skills when a situation calls for it in order to get a job done or to lead by example, but I would much rather be on the sidelines than in the game or the star of the show. This really puts me in the minority when I am in a room full of traditional leaders. 

When I was a kid, I also had this chameleon-like quality. I was just as content to sit in the basement alone and put together a puzzle, read one of my mom’s Nancy Drew books, or color than I was in ballet class or performing in a dance or piano recital. I wasn’t “shy” and would volunteer in class to answer questions or read out loud or hang my work on the wall; but I didn’t prefer activities like being in classroom skits or playing solos or having all of the attention on me. If I was a member of a group, I did my part (or sometimes everyone else’s) to make sure that the job got done well but didn’t necessarily want to be the star of the show. I always wanted good grades and good feedback, but I never really (and still don’t) prefer when given feedback in front of a crowd. To this day, I prefer to get good news in private where I won’t feel eyes watching my reaction. (When I was waiting to find out if I got my first assistant principal position, the only place in the building that I could find to take the call was a closet in the art teacher’s empty classroom. In the dark I listened to the voicemail offering me the job and I jumped up and down fist-pumping silently (accidentally knocking over some packages of red construction paper in the process); then I fixed my face and walked calmly out of the closet, to the copy machine, and no one was any the wiser about how happy I was. As I have gained more leadership experience, I have learned how to handle both public praise and criticism with less anxiety, but it’s always easier when there’s forewarning. For instance, if I know that I will be brought up in a positive way at a School Board Meeting and can prepare to react I am far more confident and comfortable. Due to this, I always try to warn my own teachers when something is coming – either positive or negative because I know how uncomfortable that I can be when I’m getting feedback (or am simply being mentioned) in a way that isn’t entirely private. 

There are drawbacks to being a pretty private person – one of them is always being accused of being “aloof”, “condescending”, “too serious”, “cold”, or “uncaring”. I once received professional feedback that my staff perceived me as being “cold and uncaring”, and I once had a union complaint that I “don’t smile enough”. While I never felt that those comments were fair, I did reflect upon them because people’s perceptions become their reality. I show my staff that I care in the ways that suit my style (I bake for them and make handmade Christmas gift displays, and use the shoutout board). But that’s MY style – to discount theirs isn’t inclusive. I am NOT a potluck person – I just don’t like them. I feel like if I invite people over then I should provide them with their nourishment not make them bring their own. (Plus there’s never enough food and everyone brings dessert and then there’s nothing to actually eat). But my team LOVES a good potluck. They put up a signup sheet and commit to bringing dishes to celebrate right before school breaks or around holidays. I have NEVER signed up – but I do wait until the day beforehand and see what no one is bringing (almost always a main dish lol!), and surprise them with it the next day without making it known who brought it. I brought 2 crock pots of Italian Beef with rolls for sandwiches the last time, so everyone had something hot to eat. I “participated” without participating. They got what they needed (food, gratitude, and a HOT meal), and I got to make sure that I got what I needed out of it – casual/on-the-fringes, non-public, non-committal participation. Just because something isn’t your style doesn’t mean you can’t “suck it up” and do something intentionally kind that others DO need or respond to. 

Many schools and communities now have Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion committees. The concept that all people should feel welcome in public schools, universities, and workplaces is an important one. Public schools are diverse spaces full of students (and staff) from varying cultural, racial, socioeconomic, societal, and ability backgrounds. Valuing one another’s diversity (whether it be through recruitment, promotions, or other ways) could be considered the first “step” in creating an inclusive environment. For instance, if there is no diversity within your staff how can you ever even get to the equity and inclusivity portions? One could argue that once you have hired more female school leaders, the next step is equitably paying them. On average, female school superintendents are not only less common but those that exist are generally paid less. In 2022, the ILO group released the following statistics:

“As of March 2022, the research revealed that the spread of women superintendents serving in permanent, interim, and outgoing roles has substantial geographic differences in gender equity, with 43 percent of positions in the Northeast held by women, compared to:35 percent in the Southwest;
31 percent in the Midwest;
26 percent in the West; and
24 percent in the Southeast.
Of the 143 total women who are currently serving as superintendents within the 500 largest districts, 84 (59 percent) were internal hires, while only 59 (41 percent) were external hires – showing women are more likely to be hired as superintendents when their district hires for the position internally“. 
https://www.ilogroup.com/research/new-analysis-shows-inequities-persist-in-hiring-and-pay-equity-for-women-superintendents/#:~:text=Right%20now%20women%20make%20up%20the%20majority%20%E2%80%93,12%20percent%20less%20pay%20than%20their%20male%20counterparts.

So – not only are there fewer female superintendents (many of whom are paid less than their equally credentialed male counterparts), but many are elevated within their current districts without being able to break into new roles as easily. So, external hires that are men are outpacing female’s external superintendency offers as well.

Even in scenarios where Diversity and pay Equity exist – how are we ensuring the Inclusivity part of DEI? Not just at the macro levels of gender, race, and cultural background, but in what I refer to as the “diversity of the mind”? How are we failing to include people through “super-tiny-not-quite-microaggressions-but-exclusionary practices”? A great challenge of leadership (and teaching) is leading who you HAVE not who you ARE. This year, I went to the IASA annual conference because I was invited to attend for free to accept a scholarship. It truly was an inspirational conference, and I learned a ton from amazing practitioners. However, the imposter syndrome was real. The conference is “meant for” superintendents - not assistant principals. So even though I had earned a scholarship for my superintendency certification program, and that everyone that I met was wildly supportive and welcoming – the act of walking into the room was intimidating. Everywhere I looked there was a sea of black and navy-blue suitcoats on men (mostly over 45), with a smattering of (mostly blonde-haired mid-40’s) women. I intentionally sat at a table with an African American woman who was wearing bright colors and had leopard print glasses – because I felt that we might be kindred spirits. At one point, as the officials from IASA were standing in a line in front of the stage about to be introduced, I asked the woman “Why do you think all those people are lined up over there by the stage?” She responded, “I’m not sure there’s nothing on the program – but did you notice how they all look alike except for the one woman in line and she’s last in line – I don’t like that.” She wasn’t wrong. But it also made me reflect upon the event itself. 

I had been invited - but 95% of the people in the room already knew each other. Relationships were preestablished. What’s ironic about this experience is that I am social and confidant. I am an open and enthusiastic fan of Unsupervised Leadership. The podcast of Kate Koch and Dr. Courtney Orzel. Two of the people that I look up to the most and whose famous slogan of “If you don’t have a seat at the table, you can always sit with us” has given female leaders everywhere the confidence and fortitude to walk into male-dominated rooms all over with their heads up and their lawn chairs in their hands while walking right up to a table without any seats and creating their own. (Buy their new book here: https://www.amazon.com/Unsupervised-Leadership-Celebrating-Elevating-Females/dp/147587250X)

Even with all Courtney & Kate’s cheerleading in my head, and all my own experience with persistence and overcoming obstacles, I STILL hesitated at that conference door’s threshold. What could have been done intentionally to ensure that all newcomers felt welcomed? ”Assigned” tables? Tickets with seat numbers? Tables by region? It was already intimidating to walk into the room, but then to navigate the politics of “where should I sit because no one that I know is here and I don’t know the rules” added some (mostly self-imposed) anxiety. Who is left out when we make the assumption that everyone has the agency to choose the “correct” seat? Who is made to feel awkward when we don’t go through the motions of explaining the instructions for where we should sit, where to go for lunch, or where the restrooms are? Just like in a classroom we go through the instructions even if we think all the students know them – there is always someone who was absent or is new to the procedures. Shouldn’t we provide as much as possible without someone having to ask for what they need? I was recently scrolling twitter and saw a great comment by @SynthiaSalomon who said: “Being welcomed is an important aspect of the social contract between humans”. Just take it from Oscar Wilde:

“Nothing annoys people so much as not receiving invitations”.

Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

So, if diversity and equity are the INVITATION, then inclusivity is feeling genuinely welcomed. As we talk about creating school cultures that are inclusive for our students and staff – it takes more than inviting everyone to the table – it means intentional decisions that WELCOME them into the activities, the conversations, and the ‘family’ that we create – and that KEEP them feeling included. As the young outsider teacher that was the only aging goth kid on staff, whose significant other was a musician, who was quiet, not into sports or March Madness, or going to Cubs games with my fellow teachers, I knew that I had my colleagues’ respect, and that they liked me, but I can’t say that I always felt welcomed or related to. When we had a staff Spirit Day themed: “Dress Like You Did in High School” – I can ASSURE you that I was the only one at Perspectives Charter School that rolled up looking like this (and I definitely felt weird about it!)

I took that feeling to heart when I moved into school leadership. I knew that I might not be comfortable at the basketball games (I’ll still go to it to support the kids), but my principal knows that I’m the one to call on when it’s time to wear a light up tutu butterfly costume at the Village’s Trunk or Treat! In fact, she encourages it! So, for every time that she knows that I’ll need to do something that isn’t the easiest for me, she makes sure that there’s an opportunity for me to shine. One of the many reasons I nominated her for the Illinois Principals’ Association Middle School Principal of the year this year! She takes Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion so seriously and passionately that she tunes in to all her people in a way that I really admire!

To truly create spaces where your “weirdos” feel safe and included, it means leading who you HAVE not who you are. Just like our staff, students need to feel seen and have trusted adults that intentionally reach out to them. As a leader, one intentional choice that I make is trying to truly get to know each new staff member as a human being first. That means listening to their stories, finding out about their hobbies, asking what artist did their tattoos, where they like to go on vacation, what they like to do outside of work, and most importantly what they HATE to do. No one can have their way all the time when it comes to Professional Development. Sometimes we have to do a sit-and-get training or a staff meeting. But we CAN intentionally ask the art teacher who mostly keeps to themselves to design the powerpoint background and give them credit for it. We CAN ask the very quiet school librarian to share her idea for “What Am I Reading Posters” with the staff at that staff meeting? It’s about intentionally finding that way that a staff member can connect and be included and then BUILDING the bridge (and maintaining it so it doesn’t crumble). It shouldn’t be up to people to try to force their way to the table or across the bridge. INVITE them into the room and let them know that their way is valued. Once you build an inclusive staff – then you can spread those inclusivity methods throughout your student body.

When it comes to intentionally seeking out and connecting with and including people in a crowd does anyone say it better than Jeff in Almost Famous?

Once you build an inclusive staff – then you can spread those inclusivity methods throughout your student body.

At a previous school, we used a student survey called the Equal Opportunities Schools Survey. It was meant to identify students from typically underserved communities for honors and AP courses to increase campus equity. However, the survey also had an important social-emotional component. One of the questions asked students to identify a trusted adult on staff as well as an adult that they related to. When the results came out, we now had access to some especially important information. Now we had lists of students who identified certain individuals that they really trusted. As an A.P. if I had a student disciplinary concern, now I knew who else to invite to the meeting with the student. Someone that they trusted and who knew would listen to their concerns. It showed us which students related to and had positive relationships with what staff members so that we could intentionally create student schedules, activities, and opportunities for them to interact with one another. As a high school student, it would have been a game changer for me to be able to interact with the Chemistry teacher (she was young, single, lived in the Belmont and Clark neighborhood, had streaks in her hair, and listened to Sleater Kinney). I RELATED to her – but I doubt she ever knew it. I had her for one semester and then never really interacted on that side of the building again. If I had taken the survey and my counselor had had the results of my EOS survey, she could have intentionally placed my locker outside of that teacher’s room to start my day in a positive way. I could’ve seen myself represented and had more interactions with the kind of adult that made me feel welcomed at school. The EOS survey gave us powerful information to create social work groups for students intentionally, and it also revealed students that identified NO trusted adults OR adults that they related to. Now we had a list of students that we could reach out to and TALK TO, listen to, and invite to events or classes in which they would excel. We had the TOOLS to create a bridge. It should NOT be up to the staff members or the students to feel like an outsider AND create their own invitation to the party AND just join in when the party date comes.

How are you reaching out to your “weirdos”? To those students or staff members who don’t automatically participate. To those staff or students who come in and do their job every single day but don’t necessarily stand out. Or to those that DO stand out (because they have wild makeup or fashion choices that aren’t traditional), but don’t have others like them in the building? Diversity and equity – despite the challenges facing us in this area – can be addressed “easily” (easily isn’t the right word but hear me out). We can hire diverse candidates and pay them equally and then create policies to ensure that we’re doing that. But INCLUSION is a fluid, ongoing, constant, and ever-changing CHOICE that requires unique actions that change from month to month or year to year depending upon the unique aspects of the WHOLE individuals on your staff or student body. Are you finding and creating genuine relationships, friendships, mentorships, and opportunities for your “Eeyores”? (Hot take – they’re not always sad, they aren’t pessimists, but they do tend to keep a little more to themselves)

Recent research indicates that there is a worldwide loneliness epidemic. While the pandemic may have exacerbated it, it was already in the works. Since the 1980’s the Japanese have identified a population referred to as hikikomori (shut ins), who withdraw entirely from society. In Japan, this coupled with an aging population may lead to dire consequences for the economy in addition to serious mental health concerns. In the United States, the American Academy of Pediatrics has declared a national emergency in youth and adolescent mental health. One aspect that both the US and Japanese mental health crises have in common is a lack of connection, low self-esteem, anxiety, and depression. An important fact to note regarding the hikikomori, per the CNN article above, a rising percentage of them are people between the ages of 35-50. (sounds like the age of the bulk of the workforce/your staff). Both your students and staff members spend a large majority of their waking hours in a school building. If we want to prevent loneliness, isolation, bullying (much of which is an off shoot of forming poor peer relationships, having low self-esteem, or copying bullying behaviors witnessed in the home), we have an obligation to create inclusive, welcoming, and safe spaces for our teachers to work and our students to learn. I recently talked to Charle Peck on her podcast, the Thriving Educator. One of the topics we talked about is that to truly end bullying we need to disincentive the behaviors that motivate bullies by removing the social “rewards” of those behaviors (awards, attention, promotions, etc.). Additionally, we need to CELEBRATE the behaviors that inspire kindness, inclusivity, and self-belief. However, without intention, we can’t expect these things to happen by accident. Behind every healthy family, workplace, school district, or classroom there are daily decisions being made to ensure that not only does everyone have a seat at the table, but that that seat is cozy. What can you do today to make someone’s seat a little more comfortable, even if you need to stand up for a few seconds?

The Monastery of Public Education

As a former history major and middle and high school social studies teacher, I have both studied and taught about the Middle Ages many times. As a kid, I was obsessed with the Arthurian legends, Merlin, Robin Hood, the Three Musketeers, and the Count of Monte Cristo. While it was an interest, I never got too into studying Medieval History as a specialty in college. Rather, my foci were US History and Eastern/Southwestern Asian History and the Ottoman Empire. So, I hope that my fellow historians out there are patient and will go along with the extreme oversimplifications that I fully admit that I will use in this post. Firstly, make no mistake – I do NOT romanticize the Middle Ages. Life pretty much sucked for everyone. The black death was rampant, work was backbreaking and awful, outlooks were bleak, governments corrupt, and violent raids common. Life wasn’t awesome even for the wealthy. Medical care was mystical superstition at best and harmful at worst (drinking urine to cure syphilis? sure, why not!) So, although the Renaissance Faire might be fun; it’s nowhere close to the reality of the stinky cesspool that most medieval people toiled through daily. But the more than I have reflected upon the state of public education lately, the more convinced I am that since its inception, the only reason that public education in the United States has been as successful as it has been so far, is that it relies on a monastic system not too different from that of the Middle Ages. Much like the French invented perfume to cover up the stink of the Medieval lifestyle, we are all toiling together to prevent public education from “stinking”.

To keep things EXTREMELY brief and overly simple – the medieval feudal system organized society in a series of mutually beneficial “social classes” based not on the exchange of money, but rather goods, services, work, land, and protection. Within this system most people were serfs – working the land owned by wealthy lords in exchange for shelter, protection from raiders, and other basic needs. The wealthy lords themselves protected these serfs from Viking invaders (and other assorted ne’er-do-wells) behind stone walls in exchange for the serfs’ labor. In order to protect their lands, lords utilized “vassals” aka knights to protect their lands and serfs when necessary and in return these vassals got prime portions of land and goods. An offshoot of these vassals included monastics living in monasteries. These monasteries were safe and walled off much like manors and provided important services (crops, prayers, the selling of indulgences, and the copying of books) to lords, vassals, and serfs. Many of these monks were the “less athletic” sons of wealthy landowners, other clergy members, or knights. They weren’t necessarily cut out for knighthood but were privileged and educated/literate and were often the third or fourth sons of their families and not likely to get much of an inheritance. In exchange for their living this monastic lifestyle, they received the “benefits” of a safe place to stay, an education, food, and in a shockingly modern twist – old age pensions/care for when they aged and could no longer work. For more information on the benefits of being a medieval monk, check out this list.

To be sure, being a medieval monk or nun was certainly the choice of many devout medieval people. These people were truly passionate about religion and service and would have lived the monastic lifestyle whether or not these benefits existed – they just wanted to “serve God’s will”. While monasteries certainly benefitted from the passion of these devout clerics – there were some individuals who just served in monasteries because it made sense for their lifestyle. The “career” suited their needs. In MANY ways, public education is the modern-day equivalent of a monastic lifestyle. The “passion” of those that would work well beyond their contact hours for subpar pay is taken advantage of. Certainly, there were monks living in medieval monasteries that may have worked until 2 am transcribing an ornate page of the Bible to finish it despite “work hours” ending at 6 PM. But surely, there were many monks who just did their daily chores competently and nothing extra. Public education in this country has actually placed far too much reliance on “monastic passion” to keep schools afloat.

Schools are like any other workplace. They are an employer – and like any other employer there are individuals that are wildly passionate about their jobs – who go above and beyond and ask nothing in return. There are accountants, dentists, babysitters, and any other variety of professionals that go to work, do their tasks competently/well, and do not burn themselves out doing “extra”. Their companies survive. Meanwhile, in education teachers, paraprofessionals, and administrators are expected to “do whatever it takes for the kids”. The monastic lifestyle of teaching USED to be enough for many people. For example, “you won’t get paid much but you’ll have a generous pension, free/low-cost high-quality benefits, summers off, hours that allow for a work life balance, etc.” There were even tiers to this monastic lifestyle. If you worked in the inner city – chances are your salary was much higher; but the downside was dealing with potentially more challenging of a work environment. More students with trauma or who were low income; potentially more violence/gangs/poverty. At least in Chicago, this meant being required to live within the city limits; but in exchange for these additional challenges, you were monetarily compensated. Meanwhile, suburban districts that have always paid much less (unless they were a very affluent town), were able to say to applicants “you won’t make what you make in the city, but you won’t be dealing with x, y, and z.” Now that even suburban districts are inundated with low-income students, refugees, ever increasing special education needs, behaviorally challenging students (and parents), a lot of the so-called “benefits” of choosing these lower paying places have been continually eroded. Afterall, if I’m going to be dealing with violence, trauma, etc. why wouldn’t I go somewhere that’s going to pay me more to do so? So, all districts’ basic survival (not for the extras like sports or programs, etc. for the REGULAR daily operations) DEPENDS upon the unpaid/underpaid labor of its workforce in ways that no other industry would expect. (As you can imagine this more negatively impacts female and minority educators). In short, the DEVOUT “monks” that are in it just for the passion of teaching – still have to pay their bills. If the job no longer does that, then those people can fulfill their passion to work with children in a wide variety of careers or volunteer opportunities outside of schools. However, if schools as we now know them are going to survive, they must no longer rely on a sexist monastic set up in order to do so.

A recent article in Education Weekly pointed out the deep challenges faced by the inequality in the reliance on women’s unpaid labor in the educational workforce.

“It’s a little bit of a patriarchal assumption that we hired these people to make the magic happen. And they’re gonna do whatever it takes to make the magic happen, and [the district doesn’t] have to enhance anything,” said Louise Williamson, a roughly 30-year veteran English teacher in Southern California who has served as a fellow with TeachPlus, a nonprofit dedicated to improving the profession.

In some ways, the pile of expectations on educators feels like a natural extension of a working world where mothers are expected to return to the office just weeks after giving birth and cough up nearly $13,000 a year for child care, while earning just 82 percent of what men do for the same work.

https://www.edweek.org/teaching-learning/public-schools-rely-on-underpaid-female-labor-its-not-sustainable/2023/08

Medieval monks had such a “sweet deal” because they were highly educated, literate, and produced copies of literary works that benefitted society. In many ways, the same can be said of educators. They require multiple certifications, degrees, and credentials. They must be able to pass background checks. They now need to do crisis and/or mass shooting trainings. They coach athletics, lead clubs, and supervise school events for extra money. They spend their own funds to decorate or organize their classrooms. Even the ones who “make the big bucks”; school administrators, have faced decreasing salaries/raises, increased responsibilities, and increased public scrutiny. As communities expect more and more school-sponsored activities and groups; someone needs to plan and supervise these events. That falls to school administrators. Every administrator that I know is doing the work of 1.5-3 adults. Superintendents in rural areas are often the superintendent, a principal of one of the district’s schools, AND the transportation director. So even if this person is making 100K a year, that’s far less than they should be making for doing 3 FULL TIME jobs that require expertise, certification, and knowledge. One reason so many school districts are relying on their staff to be these “monks” is simply a lack of investment in the appropriate number of staff. Many schools are using assistant principals as dual department chair/dean/assistant principals in schools of 500-1000 students. Schools haven’t fallen apart at the seams publicly because the employees’ nearly religious devotion make sure things are still being pulled off (in short, they are “making the magic happen”). But as more and more people engage in appropriate work-life balance practices, practice self-care, take jobs that support their lifestyle, and “act their wage” eventually something will have to give.

There is no flexibility in the monastery of public education. Districts can’t offer their administrators or teachers a hybrid or “work from home” schedule. The students are in the building from 8-3:30 on certain days and that’s not going to change (unless there is a fundamental shift in how we handle childcare in this country – but that’s a whole other Pandora’s box). If COVID did one thing, it pulled the veil away for some teachers to realize just what sort of sacrifices they had been making to their family life, etc. and what sort of work possibilities other industries offer. With virtual learning and after school and sports activities cancelled, teachers taught virtually from 7-4ish with flexibility in their day to do other things and realized how much all of the “extras” they do daily without compensation were actually costing them. If you’re wondering why there are less clubs, programs, or sports at your own child’s school in the past few years it could be because staff have decided that their time has become more valuable than the crumbs of money that the extra duty pay may have landed them. If we look at public education as a JOB – we have to make sure that people doing their JOB fits with the credentials and efforts required as well as pays enough that doing ONLY that job allows a person to survive. Sure, coaching and clubs and supervising detention “pay extra”, and many teachers do these extra positions on top of their job to earn extra money, but that’s not enough in a country with a housing crisis, ever increasing prices, and cost of living soaring. BEFORE the pandemic (and the ensuing inflation), approximately 20% of teachers had second jobs to make ends meet.

“Overall, about 20 percent of teachers hold second jobs during the school year, accounting for roughly 9 percent of their annual income. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, teachers are about three times as likely as other U.S. workers to take on this burden.”

https://www.nea.org/nea-today/all-news-articles/almost-one-third-new-teachers-take-second-jobs

This is not even limited to teachers or paraprofessionals in schools. MANY school administrators have also taken on side gigs with Professional Development companies, writing books, working as consultants, or as leadership coaches. Teachers are WELL KNOWN for using the “admin makes so much money” quote as a way to advocate for themselves to be paid more. But two things can be true at the same time – both groups can simultaneously be overworked and being taken advantage of and not paid what they’re worth based upon their credentials, experiences, or the importance of the work that they do. In fact, the looming leadership shortage should be ringing massive alarm bells with 3 in 5 school principals planning on leaving their jobs within the next 5 years and an ever-dwindling number of applicants and newly certified leaders to take over. Rather than fighting WITHIN the monastery, the junior (teachers and staff) middle range (deans, assistant principals, and principals) and senior “monks” (district office administrators, superintendents, and boards of education) should be banning together to create a system that works for all of the students and employees. A system that compensates all of the employees fairly (so they don’t have to work second jobs to survive) and doesn’t rely on the free labor of a few passionate employees to prop up the system under the pressure of understaffing and a lack of flexibility.

Just like the medieval manor relied on the wealth of the local lords – school districts operate in much the same fashion. Schools are funded mostly on the backs of the local taxpayers. Unlike some countries, that fund their public schools mostly with federal tax dollars; on average, less than 11% of most school districts’ budgets come from federal funds. And of those funds, some come as a result of competitive grants that aren’t just “given” to every district, but districts must compete against one another to be “gifted” with some of these dollars (which may or may not be given in subsequent years). Look at the chart below to see just how little school funding in the United States is provided by the federal government (per Max Roser and Esteban Ortiz-Ospina’s 2016 article – “Education Spending”. While perhaps this arrangement once was functional for all involved (I doubt it); as the economy and reality of American life have changed over the years, relying on the local taxpayers may seem just as impractical as continuing to rely on local lords of the manor in Medieval times eventually became. In fact, continuing to do so encourages the propping up of the entire system on the dwindling number of the “devout” who are still willing to live a monastic lifestyle.


Monasteries relied on the philanthropic donations of their local lords, vassals, and churchgoers during Medieval Times. This system worked as long as there was enough prosperity and “wealth” to go around. (Let’s be real though the Middle Ages were a truly sucky time for most people. “Wealth” mostly equated to land as the feudal system didn’t yet rely on money as we know of it in a widespread fashion.) As long as the serfs were producing enough crops and livestock to pay their manor fees with enough extra for the lords to profit from by selling to other manors or towns; and vassals were making enough on raids/Crusades/military campaigns, and lords were donating enough extra wealth to the church to fund monasteries; the system “worked”. Keep in mind when I say it “worked” I mean that things were miraculously somehow functional (except for widespread death, an average lifespan of 33 years old, plague, mass inequality/racism/sexism/religious intolerance, and frequent Viking and/or “barbarian” raids). The feudal system (like all systems) only began to fall apart and become something “different”, when this arrangement was no longer functional for those with power within the social structure. For example, local lords held their own “private vassal armies” and true “nation states” weren’t necessarily a thing until after the year 1066 in England (the time of William the Conqueror), the 12th century in France (with the Capetian dynasty), and even later in Germany (the Germans took a LONG time giving up on the idea of disorganized local territories). These local lords each ruled their manors and lands in whichever way they saw fit (much like how each of the 860 school districts in Illinois do now). However, times began to change quickly as the world got “safer” from foreign invaders. No longer did serfs NEED to rely on the “benevolence” of local lords for protection. No longer did the arrangement of serfs exchanging backbreaking work from dawn to dusk with only one day off a week make sense. As growing numbers of peasants ran away to towns and cities and working more “traditional” non-farming trades; money became what was exchanged for goods and services in this new economy. Simultaneously, lords began to lose their local power as kings and emperors consolidated their power and created modern “countries” rather than a mishmash of manors each ruled by local lords. As a result, lords lost many of their “vassal armies” as these “knights of service” became paid members of king’s armies. Once the printing press was invented in the 1400’s, the need for monks transcribing books letter by letter by hand became less necessary; and as more jobs were available to educated men and women in newly sprouting up towns; the monastic lifestyle was less of a desirable “career opportunity” to those that were less devout and had only gotten into the business for the lifestyle that it offered. Some of these individuals went into the early medical or scientific field. Those that remained in the monasteries stayed until they lost funding, fell apart, became obsolete, or were closed by their diocese. Since monasteries were often a place where wealth or items with value were stored, toward the end of the Middle Ages they became targets for raiders and were robbed openly since they were unprotected. As a result, some of the more remote and unprotected monasteries closed and the religious leaders of the day moved as city cathedrals like Notre Dame and Westminster became epicenters of religious life.

As a Catholic school student from grades 1-12; I know for a fact that many of my teachers were living an extreme version of this monastic lifestyle. Although at the time I didn’t realize it, the vast majority of my teachers in grades 1-8 were teaching at my school because they enjoyed teaching; but were sacrificing many of the “benefits” of a career in education (a livable salary, union protections, or a planning period that occurred more than once per week). In retrospect, few of my teachers “needed” to work. All of my elementary teachers’ husbands were the breadwinners. They taught because they wanted to be a teacher not out of a necessity for money/a career. The benefit of not “needing” to work meant they could voluntarily choose the ultra-monastic lifestyle of working at a Catholic school. In exchange for a modest old-age pension (just like monks), and the ability to share their devout passion for teaching, they had the advantage of very small class sizes and had zero behavioral issues (students who didn’t behave at my school just got kicked out there was not a scenario where a teacher had to “deal with” misbehaviors or even intervene). I still recall our principal, Sister Eileen driving a kid named Adam in her own car to his mom’s office to drop him off because he was talking too much in the classroom (it was the 90’s and apparently this was allowed then?) The embarrassment to both mom and child ensured he never misbehaved again – at least I don’t remember him having another issue. So, my teachers made barely any money, but they were guaranteed a lifestyle that allowed them to teach in an environment with many benefits. (Half days every Friday during Lent, a shorter school day & year than the public-school districts, no special education students, special education meetings, no IEPS, no behavioral issues, small class sizes, etc.) Eventually, this system began to collapse – Catholic school tuition in the late 90’s really exploded. It was no longer possible for middle or lower-class parents to afford tuition, and it was no longer fiscally responsible (or all-that-legal) for schools to just kick kids out. Special education and speech services began to be offered, etc. Now that many Catholic schools have closed due to the insane tuition costs; the most devout of these teachers have fewer schools to choose from for their work; and fewer of the “positives” that their monastic like service used to guarantee. Public schools are going through a similar although less dramatic transformation.

As mentioned earlier, many of the “benefits” of working in a lower-paying suburban district have gradually eroded away. It is no longer “enough” to tell teachers “you’ll get paid less than city teachers but you won’t have city problems”. The racially and socioeconomically charged undertones of that statement never REALLY escaped anyone did it? But now that the traditionally labeled “city problems” of gangs, rising and more demanding special education needs, gangs, violence, lack of productive and/or supportive parent involvement, etc. relying on educators’ monastic devotion isn’t enough. Now that education is facing post-COVID complexity, rising anger and vitriol from parents/community members (people literally throwing things during school board meetings), and an increasing teacher, sub, and administrator shortage, there is also increasing competition from the “medieval town” of other industries. After all, if I have lost most of the “beneficial” or “fun” parts of the lifestyle that a career in education once offered me, but am being offered none of the flexibility of hybrid work, higher paying corporate education gigs that allow for travel or work from home opportunities, or better benefits, when will the lure of a better life for myself and my family eclipse my monasticism? Afterall, educators aren’t monks – when they choose their career, they are also choosing a particular lifestyle that best suits their talents and family’s needs. In the 70’s, many female teachers beat their own children home and were home by 3. This is simply no longer the reality (if it ever really was).

Many paraprofessionals chose to be teachers’ aides as a way to work part time and spend half the day with their small children and this has also eroded in addition to more responsibility. (In my own district changing diapers has now become a paraprofessional’s responsibility as there’s been an increase in student entering Kindergarten without any potty training). If you ask these people, that was not something they were remotely expecting when they took their job. In the words of one of my employees, “I applied at an elementary school not a daycare. Please don’t tell me this is what I signed up for when I definitely did not.” The comment “this is what you signed up for” is often thrown in educators’ faces as a way to stop the narrative of discussing what is going on in schools. But a rise in violence against educators, school shootings, ever-increasing to-do lists, and very little additional compensation is not really what anyone “signed up for” – although they are dealing with it heroically every day and teaching with as much devotion and fervor as ever due to their love of their students and teaching. And for as easy as it is to tell educators “if you don’t like it then leave”, that doesn’t address the issue that the students don’t have that same choice. If they don’t have what they need (professional educators, arts programs, interventions, and well-rested respected adults to care for them), they can’t “just leave”. They’re legally required to go to school. While opting out is an option for the adults it isn’t for the students.

Why not invest in making sure that those educating our children are able to put food on their table and not work a second job? Why rely on their monastic-style “love of the kids”? As any marriage counselor will tell you, eventually “love is not enough”. Recently, I was at a statewide conference of superintendents and discussed this issue with some colleagues. They all agreed superficially that every person in our industry is unfairly doing the job of 1.5-3 other people and we need to hire more, overwork people less, and raise everyone’s pay – but one brought up that “if you talk to the CSBO’s statewide they’ll tell you that the significant raises a lot of districts have already given since COVID aren’t sustainable and that cuts are actually going to have to come rather than additional benefits in order to keep things moving as well as they are now”. And I don’t disagree – IF we continue to fund education based on the wildly inequitable local funding sources that we rely upon now. There simply MUST be a better way.

When kings and emperors began to consolidate their power into individual countries; the entire feudal system changed. Whether we want to admit it or not, we have kings and emperors in our country/world and many of them actively are working against strengthening public education. If every billionaire on the planet gave half of their wealth up (which would still leave them wildly wealthy), world hunger and inequality could essentially be solved.

According to the geniuses at the Brookings Institute, raising the income of the poorest people to the global poverty line ($1.90/day more or less) would cost about $80 billion annually. So, a very modest allocation of 0.064 percent of the wealth of the top 1 percent would be enough to end desperate poverty. Of course, the wealthiest 1 percent would need to make this allocation annually to end poverty, but 0.064 percent is so small, that it really isn’t much of a burden. Since billionaire wealth grew more than 10 percent in 2015; ending poverty doesn’t even mean the rich can’t get richer.

https://politicsofpoverty.oxfamamerica.org/rich-people-can-end-poverty/

Continuing to rely on local “lords and vassals” to bear the weight of an increasingly crushing system without them will continue to lead to high quality educators “escaping” from the manor and running into the “town” (Edtech and curriculum companies, PD providers, corporate ed jobs, and literally any other industry that you can think of). If we continue as monks (paras, teachers, admin, superintendents, and boards) fighting within our own “monasteries” (districts/states) amongst ourselves for the limited local crumbs currently available to us, rather than banning together to demand a restructuring of school funding nationally, then nothing changes. Teachers have union reps to protect them from unfair labor practices – but I have frequently said that building administrators are the union reps of the students/school, and that superintendents/boards of education are the union reps of the system/profession of education. It is long past time that these 3 “unions” form a coalition (think the Teamsters) to address the protection of our most important citizens – students and those who work with them every day. I’m not actually referring to a traditional labor union – but rather an organized and concerted effort nation-wide to address the funding situation that has created our reliance on this modern-day monasticism. Special interests from the tobacco industry, the Fraternal Order of Police, and a wide variety of groups have formed PACS and Super PACS to advocate for funding and legislation that will advance their profession – if we keep “closing the classroom/monastery door” and keep on keeping on with making the magic happen until it’s no longer possible and we have no choice, it may be too late. Waiting until it’s too late to make lasting change and bring equality for our students, dignity and respect (monetarily and figuratively) to our profession, and strength to our local communities foreshadows an entirely new Dark Age. Restructuring our funding so there is less pressure on local communities to bear the entire burden of school funding will strengthen local communities who will then become able to fund other important local projects – creating a safer more amazing community for us all to live in.

The medical disadvantages facing American women (especially educators)

In the past 2+ years in the US, the medical industry has been through a draining and dramatic strain due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Doctors and nurses were overworked, lauded as heroes, were at the center of both praise and criticism due to COVID and COVID-deniers, and have faced incredible and unprecedented struggles. So, in no way do I mean to disparage the medical field. Doctors and nurses are a vital necessity for the health and wellness of our society at large. The incredible amount of knowledge, training, tuition money, grueling residencies, and other parts of being a physician, surgeon, nurse, nurse practitioner, pharmacist, or hospital employee inspire a lot of awe. However, as a woman and as a school leader, I have to say that a profession that claims to be based on “doing what’s best for patients”, often falls very short in not only it’s overall treatment of women (especially minority women), but an important subset of women – educators.

On paper, medical doctors and educators have a lot in common. Both are professions that are actually made up of a MAJORITY of women. Both professions are filled with women with advanced degrees who face a pay gap between themselves and their male colleagues (especially when those women are women of color). However, the difference in the amount of public respect, pay, and the ability to maintain a work-life balance are often vast. While many nurses and doctors at hospitals work grueling shifts, they don’t often take tremendous amounts of work home with them. Growing up, I watched my mother become an award-winning nurse at the University of Chicago. She’s won every nursing award that the hospital gives. She has an incredible work ethic and was intensely devoted to her work, her patients, their families, and her coworkers for her entire career. That being said, as a full-time nurse that earned generous overtime pay on holidays or for staying late, she never once took a piece of paperwork home. She worked 3, 12-hour shifts per week plus every-other weekend. She earned a great living, had a good work-life balance, and when she was home, she was HOME. The lifesaving, incredibly brilliant trauma-surgeon that saved my ex-husband’s arm from amputation works 2, 16-hour shifts a week (which might be extended due to complex surgeries), and every-other weekend (plus being on-call while other surgeons are on vacation/out of the office, etc.) Of course, both of these examples are anecdotal and were HOSPITAL employees at the busy University of Chicago Hospital – not private practice or local doctors’ offices. The vast majority of my current frustration with the medical industry is actually NOT with hospitals in general, but rather with local medical offices.

But before we get into all of that – let’s look at some demographic data of these female-majority professions. According to the research on www.zippia.com, regarding medical doctors in the United States, 53% are female with average pay varying per region between $120k and $192k (see graphics below). Obviously, those with additional degrees, more specialized areas of expertise, etc. could exceed this amount. Additionally, a report by The Physician’s Foundation released in 2018 found that a majority of doctors worked 51-60 hours per week (see graphic below).

Let’s compare this same information for teachers (ALSO a highly educated, majority-women profession that has a pay differential between males and females). Teachers are 74% female, with an average salary (depending upon region) between $31k-$63+k (see graphic below), and per recent research published in Education Week, the average teacher works about 54 hours per week (read the full article on how teachers’ workweeks break down here). What a STARK difference in pay for somewhat similar hours. (And these statistics do NOT include the piles of paperwork that any of these educators take home and work on on their own time).

Ok, ok – maybe comparing medical doctors to teachers isn’t really fair. After all, aren’t medical doctors required to have much more education, training, and experience than the average classroom teacher? So, let’s talk about school principals. ALSO, a female-dominated field (but only if you lump all schools together though. A VAST majority of high schools are led by men and since there are many more elementary schools and the majority of THOSE are led by women it sort of skews the data). Female school principals account for 55% of all school principals and make an average (regional variations) of $65k-$105+k (see graphics below). Additionally, the average school principal reported working about 60 hours a week BEFORE the pandemic; but in my experience, a follow-up study with updated numbers just might show this being AT LEAST 60 hours a week.

Why do I bring any of this up at all? Well because I’m a woman who needs to see a gynecologist. And good luck doing that if you aren’t a woman who can go to the doctor between 9 am and 3 pm. Recently, I (tried to) make an appointment with my gynecologist. She only works between 9 am and 3 pm. So, an early morning OR an afternoon appointment would mean that I would have to take off of work (since I can’t go for a 7 am appointment and just come in a bit late OR leave with the students at 3:15 for a 4 pm appointment as neither of those are options). Even taking a half-day isn’t possible unless I can get guaranteed an on-time appointment at 10 am and get to my building by 11:30; or get a guaranteed appointment between 12:30 and 2:30 so I can stay until 11:30 (the cutoff time for “half-day).

Being the educator that I am – I don’t like to take time off when students are in the building. Although it’s less of a big deal now that I’m an administrator – it’s still not ideal. I remember the pressure (some put on myself by myself and some put on me by students, parents, and administrators) to not take off of work. “We only have 180 days with students – everyday counts”, “not enough learning happens when there’s a sub”, “it impacts the whole building when an adult is out”. And all of those things are true. So, like MANY educators, I RELY on early-morning, late-afternoon, weekend, or evening appointments. Failing those options, I pack my Thanksgiving, winter, spring, and summer breaks chock full of eye doctor, annual physical, gynecologist, blood test, mammogram, and dental appointments. Frankly, it sucks, and I’ve always resented having to line up tons of appointments on the rare days off of work that I get all to myself. I’ve always preferred the early-morning, late afternoon, or weekend appointments so that I don’t NEED to give up vacation time, impact my students, or burden my coworkers so that I can sit in waiting rooms. However, this has become less and less of an option for me lately. Every time I call an office to try to get an early, late, or weekend appointment I am told, “oh the doctor no longer has any evening, weekend, or early morning hours”. So begrudgingly, I mentally prepare myself to give up Winter, Spring, or Summer break days. And lo and behold, apparently all the doctors are also taking off during all of the school breaks as well so they can hang out with their own children. And I GET IT. I understand the desire to take a family vacation, spend time with family, etc. But those same doctors ALSO have a certain expectation that their own children will have teachers on a daily basis when they go to school. They have a certain expectation that Open Houses, Back to School Bashes, Parent-Teacher Conferences, School Tours, and Meet the Teacher Nights will take place outside of those teachers’ and administrators’ paid hours. So why don’t those same doctors have the occasional night, weekend, late afternoon, or “around the holidays” hours? Don’t the women who care for doctors’ children deserve the same convenience that their children’s teachers give to them?

I am ALL FOR work-life balance. And I am not suggesting that any overworked and stressed out medical professional works MORE hours themselves. I am asking why more of them won’t work SMARTER? For example, even if the cost is a little higher, I will remain an avid patient at my dentist’s office until the end of time. They are closed every Monday and open at noon every Tuesday. They are open Tuesdays from noon-8pm and Wednesdays-Fridays from 8-4PM and every other Saturday from 7am-noon. The 4 dentists take turns on who works on Saturdays and Tuesday evenings so that they each only work 1 in every 4 evenings or Saturdays. As a result, I never have to take off of work to take care of my dental health. This includes their endodontist! I have had 2 root canals at 6 PM and haven’t had to take off of work. It meant that my students, my teachers, and the other administrators in my building didn’t have to feel my absence and I also remained healthy enough to keep working because the dental issue was taken care of before it turned into an infection.

How many average workers (teachers or otherwise) want to take off of work on a random Tuesday morning to get a physical or an eye doctor appointment? (Especially if you get paid by the hour and will lose income?) Survey your patients to see what times would be the most convenient for them and eliminate the times/days that are less popular and maybe close on Monday and Tuesday but work Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings. Split up those days with the other doctors in your office/network. I guarantee all of the shift workers and teachers and school administrators that can’t take off of work on a Wednesday at 1 PM would be grateful. A person that is willing and able to receive preventative or basic care at a convenient time would be a loyal patient. Regular, everyday medical care is what prevents more serious illness and keeps people healthy. Imagine the long-term impacts on children whose teachers have medical issues that aren’t diagnosed early and result in a leave-of-absence? When I asked the receptionist at my gynecologist’s office what I could do if I had a serious medical concern and they couldn’t get me a first-thing-in-the-morning appointment, her response was “I dunno, go to the emergency room, I guess. We tell people to just take off of work.” I was so annoyed that I looked for another doctor and when I called his office was told that there was a 4-month waiting list for new patient appointments. Imagine the uproar from doctors (or any parents) if schools said, “sorry but we only do parent-teacher conferences from 9-3 and we don’t have events like Open House outside of the school day – just take off of work.”

If there is one thing that the COVID-19 pandemic has done to transform the world of work, it was adding flexibility to the workplace. Many industries are allowing for flexible hours, working from home, hybrid work, or a combination of all of the above. Even the medical industry has embraced the teledoc system for more minor medical conditions that don’t require testing or in-person interaction. Many of the “essential workers” such as retail workers, school employees, many medical employees, and those involved in the transportation industry haven’t gained any of this flexibility or the option to work from home or split our hours. As a result, educators still have to make the difficult call of, “should I leave my students today and impact their education to get a pap smear/blood test/cancer screening from a doctor that won’t work before or after school, on the weekend, or during school breaks?” or “Should I just put it off?” Either way – those doctors’ (and other people’s children) will be impacted. Either the teacher will miss a day, or they might actually get ill and miss potentially a lot more days, or worst-case scenario they’ll have to have a long-term sub due to a serious illness or even death). Meanwhile, those same doctors and parents expect those educators to be present outside of their contracted hours to support them and their children through athletic games, Open Houses, conferences, parades, events, Science Fairs, etc. We can talk all day about “self-care” and how if you have the PTO that you should take it when you need it – but educators will ALWAYS have the added pressure of how this will impact the learning of their students. Many are more than willing to take care of their personal business on their personal time – but they can’t find doctors that will accommodate them. So, doctors, I beg you to take your children’s teachers, principals, paraprofessionals, and other school staff (as well as essential workers in other industries that don’t have flexibility) into your planning of your office hours and operational systems. No one is asking you to work more, just work differently. Consider the health of the people that care for your children and how your children might be impacted by missing their teacher (who is willing to come and see you at 4 PM or on Saturday morning with no impact on your child’s education).

Women’s health in general in this country is in a sad state of affairs. There simply aren’t enough OB/GYN’s and in my anecdotal experience, the quality of a lot of the gynecologists that myself and the women in my life have come across have left a lot to be desired. I don’t have data to back this up – it’s just a feeling that I’ve developed over the years; but a lot of gynecologists don’t seem all that interested in women’s actual health. MANY of them love babies, pregnancy, pregnant women, and helping women give birth. It’s not only obvious by the decorations in their office, their excitement when a pregnant woman walks through their doors, but it also shows in what kind of care that their office hours show has value. Once I FINALLY got an appointment at the gynecologist (2 months AFTER I was due to go AND had to take off of work), I was at the counter paying my co-pay and waiting for the receipt to be handed to me. While I was standing there, I overheard the other secretary get a phone call from a newly pregnant mom who was calling to make an appointment. She was fit in THAT WEEK with no notice. But when I had called with a serious MEDICAL CONCERN it took me 2 months to get that same courtesy of an appointment. (Because the doctor only blocks out 2 hours a day between 10-12 for non-pregnancy related appointments). If this had been a one-time thing, then maybe I could consider it a fluke. But at the same gynecologist, 2-years prior (after my having to take off of work to have a procedure done due to the lack of early morning or late afternoon appointments), I was called AS I WAS PULLING INTO THE PARKING LOT to be told “the doctor is with a patient in labor at the hospital can you come back in 2 hours?” A procedure that I was having to TRY TO PREVENT cancer. To add insult to injury, the procedure wasn’t successful, and I needed it repeated. Again, I took time OFF OF WORK to come in for the re-do when it was convenient for the doctor. 2 days before the procedure the doctor’s office called me to tell me “The doctor has to reschedule you’ll need to come in on the 10th instead.” In a total Karen moment, I told the secretary that that would be impossible as I’d already taken the time off – whomever was covering for the doctor when her patients went into labor would have to do the procedure. She informed me “she doesn’t have anyone to cover. All the appointments just need to be rescheduled. The other doctors in this office have their own appointments scheduled already.” (So do all of the teachers that I have to pull from their breaks to cover the classes that have no sub, and we make it work even though it’s not even a little bit ideal). I was so nervous and worried that I cried on the phone. She took pity on me and told me if I promised to be in 25 minutes earlier than I’d originally planned then the doctor would have enough time to do the procedure and go to the hospital for the C-section.

I 100% get it – babies come when they want to come. They don’t break their moms’ water between 9 and 5. They’re born when they’re born. But it’s not just while the moms are in labor has my care been de-prioritized. Many times, while in a gynecologists’ waiting room I’ve been made to wait while a pregnant mom-to-be gets to go first (even when my appointment time was first). In the past 4 years, despite having some serious gynecological issues, my gynecologist has spent maybe the equivalent of 45 minutes of her time with me in an exam room. Our appointments often feel rushed-through and are sometimes for painful procedures that are very stressful to undergo. Even when I have been there and there is an empty waiting room, these appointments seem to have been given less precedence than the pregnant patients’ routine appointments. I got so frustrated last year that I actually googled the phrase “how to find a gynecologist that doesn’t deliver babies and only deals with women’s health issues”. Needless to say, I didn’t have a TON of local results pop up. Many women in my life have had similar issues. IUD placements, birth control consultations, ovarian cysts, fibroids, cervical and ovarian cancer, and endometriosis are all health issues that women that I know have dealt with over the years. And their appointments/care are often on the “back burner” of their doctors’ rotation. You’d think that with all of this over-prioritization of appointments and care for American pregnant women that we’d have the best outcomes in the world. However, per a 2020 CDC report – that’s FAR from the truth.

The United States has one of the highest maternal mortality rates, if not the highest, in the developed world.

https://www.americanactionforum.org/insight/maternal-mortality-in-the-united-states/

Of course, in the report it is even pointed out that there is disparity between white and minority women with minority women dying even more often than white women. As you can imagine the number of deaths increases as the woman’s insurance coverage amount declines. To put it in scary figures, it is safer for women to give birth in EVERY SINGLE OTHER FIRST WORLD COUNTRY on the planet – and most of the third world ones as well with the exception of Sub-Saharan Africa. And it’s getting WORSE not better. So, the “most important job” that American OB/GYN’s are “blowing off” other things for isn’t even going well. With the ridiculous new laws being passed with regulating women’s healthcare/birth control/abortion/miscarriages/forced birth/gender-affirming care can anyone predict anything more optimistic than “more deaths on the horizon”? If you were in medical school right now, would you choose a specialty under such a horrible microscope? Governed in some states by confusing and patient-harming laws? While we have a shortage of doctors now – what will happen when the ones that we do have (despite their range in skill levels) are vastly diminished?

My mom the nurse has always given people the advice to “get a second opinion they’re just doctors they’re not gods despite what their egos may lead you to believe.” I’ve given the same advice to people in my life before, but it wasn’t until my recent health issues that I truly listened and took it myself. After my marriage fell apart due to my husband’s cheating and stealing of massive amounts of money from me, I started having weird and painful abdominal pains. They felt like sharp menstrual cramps but were not near my period and were further up near the base of my ribs on my right side. I went to my general doctor, and she listened, examined me, and set me for a large battery of tests. I had abdominal ultrasounds, transvaginal ultrasounds, x-rays, a CT scan, and blood tests. When they all came back normal, the doctor referred me to a gynecologist to rule out things like endometriosis or fibroids or ovarian cysts (although she admitted that she didn’t see anything like that on my ultrasounds). So, I went to the gynecologist that she referred me to.

In retrospect, I should have stopped seeing this doctor after the first appointment. But I was still so shaken by what was going on in my personal life that I let things slide that I shouldn’t have. I told the doctor I needed testing for STDs since I’d been cheated on and that I had been having a lot of pain. She recommended that I go on birth control pills to control my cramps. I teared up and told her that I had stopped taking them because my husband and I had planned to try for a baby. I wasn’t even divorced yet and felt that taking birth control pills would not only mean that I was admitting to defeat; but was also potentially closing the door forever on what I had so desperately wanted. I told this to the doctor tearfully and her response was “well just so you know if you get pregnant at your age it’s dangerous for you and the baby anyway. I wouldn’t recommend it.” So, we did the exam, she told me to take some Midol if I got cramps, and I went out to the car and sobbed feeling like my concerns were sort of dismissed. The entire appointment minus all the waiting in the waiting room and in the exam-room waiting for the doctor to come in took maybe 20 minutes total, and I walked out feeling like I had no answers. A few days later my test results came back and thankfully I was negative for HIV, gonorrhea, syphilis, meningitis, herpes, and a whole host of other infections. Unfortunately, I tested positive for HPV – most likely due to my husband’s recently discovered serial cheating. The doctor had me come in for a colposcopy procedure to do a biopsy to ensure that the lesions weren’t cancerous or pre-cancerous. The procedure is not fun, and they don’t use any sort of pain medicine. That first test’s results were CIN1 – mild dysplasia that the doctor seemed unconcerned with and told me is a “mild concern” that as long as it doesn’t progress would most likely clear up on its own.

The second year, the process was repeated. She did another colposcopy, and again stated that there was little to worry about as her samples showed CIN1. I asked her if I should get the HPV vaccine as I had seen a commercial that it was now recommended for women up to 45 years of age (When it first came out, I couldn’t get it because I had just turned 22 and it was only given up to the age of 22). She told me that it would be a waste of time as I had already been infected and the vaccine would only prevent new infections. Most of my mysterious abdominal pains had stopped although I was having heavy bleeding and very bad cramps during my period. I told the doctor and again she told me that I should go on birth control pills. I told her that I was simply not comfortable closing that door as I had started dating and had come to terms with “if it’s meant to happen it’s meant to happen”. She again told me to take Midol if I had cramps.

The third year was this year. In February I went for my appointment optimistic that the infection had cleared (the doctor told me repeatedly that most people have cleared the infection by the third year and that as long as there are no changes that I would be in the clear). Again, the pap smear was disappointing, and a third colposcopy was scheduled. (That was the procedure that was discussed above almost being rescheduled due to someone else’s c-section). This time, things had progressed from CIN1 to CIN2 and CIN3. She told me I would need surgery to remove pieces of my cervix to prevent the growth of cancer. Below you can see the Mayo Clinic’s diagram on what the cells on the inside and outside of the cervix look like with CIN1-CIN3 dysplasia compared with cancer.

I called my best friend, who had almost died of cancer at the age of 28 from exactly this same chain of events. She immediately gave me the name of her University of Chicago specialist and told me to call the office that day as her doctor had “saved her life and was the only person who had taken her concerns seriously”. She told me “Forget these podunk suburban baby-deliverers you need a researcher who is a leader in their field not someone who does this stuff just because they have to sometimes.” Unfortunately, her doctor couldn’t take me because he ONLY deals with people who already have cancer. However, his office called me back the SAME DAY, connected me with someone on that doctor’s team, and got me an appointment within 10 days for a second opinion. I had my medical records sent over to the new doctor’s office for him to review prior to the appointment. In the meantime, I researched him. He was an MD and has TWO PhD’s from Yale and countless awards. So, I was hoping that if anyone could give me good advice it would be him.

This man spent 45 minutes with me in his office (in a suit across his desk – not on a stool in some exam room). He gave me an entire science lesson on what was going on in my body. He showed me diagrams, answered all of my questions, and reviewed my case thoroughly. He actually knew my gynecologist and had gone to medical school with her father. He assured me that she was a competent doctor, but he had concerns about my case. He stated that each of the 3-years’ worth of biopsies that she’d taken were far too small to be conclusive or enlightening so that there is a “small chance” that I already have cancer. He concurred with the necessity of the surgery to remove the damaged tissue and find out if there was cancer already and prevent it if there wasn’t. When I told him that I had asked about the HPV vaccine 2-years prior he said “yes you absolutely should get it. It’s been found to boost the immune system in already infected people and help clear the infection. Any gynecologist who has been keeping up on their research should be recommending that since about 2016-2018. I’m surprised and disappointed you were told not to. We’ll get you that shot today before you leave today.” He assured me that my doctor was competent. I specifically said to him, “this is the only life I have. I don’t want competent, I want Gray’s Anatomy Christina Yang-style, confident brilliance. So, are you brilliant?”

He told me that he didn’t want to toot his own horn and I said, “please toot.” He told me he’d studied at the lab of the man who had invented the Pap smear and had invented a more modern version of doing this surgery that his hand-selected team trains on in practice labs and that he’s done thousands of them successfully. He told me that he’s just a doctor and not a magician and that he can’t help what’s already there but that he does have a plan for the best-case scenario, the medium-case scenario and the worst-case scenario for my care already in place with specialists that he trusts already on hand to assist. He sent me home with diagrams, information, and confidence. I didn’t leave his office wondering if he cared about me. And it wasn’t his “bedside manner” that converted me to switching to his office. He was very clinical. He wasn’t unkind or cold, just very business-like. His personality was actually a bit colder than the other doctor. But he was thorough and exuded scientific knowledge. And his office has a TEAM of specialists who deal with ONLY this issue. His office has both early and afternoon appointments and an entire day of the week dedicated to only surgeries and procedures. I left scared of the future but confident that I would get the best care that his office and team had to give.

So, when I had my surgery yesterday and he walked (more like swaggered) into the room beforehand he calmly explained the whole process to me. He assured me that if there was bad news, he would call me immediately, but he still believes that the chance is small, despite my previous doctor’s (in his words) “lack of attention to detail”. He gave me his cell phone number in case I didn’t feel well, (Despite it being the 4th of July weekend), or something felt wrong when I got home. He explained all of the aftercare instructions to my boyfriend and personally introduced me to all of the nurses on this team. He is not “in this just to hold new babies” and clearly keeps up with and even contributes to new research. I am grateful to have found him. Every interaction that I had with all of his staff have been caring, professional, and have made me felt like my health was their priority. I only wish that I had switched doctors earlier – but due to my having such a hard time finding doctors without months-long waits, I hadn’t even considered that I deserved better.


So today I sit and recover with my painkillers and heating pad – wondering if I have cancer or not – wondering if my first doctor’s lack of attention to me prevented me from catching this earlier. (No less on the 4th of July one year after the overturning of Roe v. Wade). I also sit worrying not only about myself but what will happen to other women when doctors are so swamped that they aren’t keeping up with the most current research, aren’t spending time with their patients, aren’t able to listen to them, and aren’t able to provide them with the care that they deserve. When to keep the lights on, private-practice doctors cram in as many patients as possible, don’t really listen or craft high-quality care plans, or just plain don’t prioritize women’s health beyond the run-of-the-mill normal pregnancy. I will say this much – we have to do better when caring for women in this country. People who can’t easily take time off of work but want to be healthy deserve the opportunity to do so. New moms, moms-to-be, never-moms, and moms-who-want-to-be all deserve high-quality specialty care not just “competence”. If they don’t get it, who will run stores, banks, schools, and retail shops? You want the world to keep on rolling? Supply chains to stay intact? Students to stay in classrooms? Businesses to run? Then we need healthy women who are able to access high-quality care when they need it without delays, under-prioritization, lack of insurance, or a lack of empathy. Women make up more than half of the population worldwide – it’s time to work smarter not harder and to just plain DO BETTER.

The Long & Lengthy ‘Sound of Silence’

Music is now and has always been a tremendous part of my life. It has flowed through my veins and oozed out of my cells for as long as I can remember. Although I was late to the party of choosing my own music to listen to – I started ballet classes at the age of 3 and danced until I was 16. After a rebellious teenage break, I went back to ballet when I was in college. It wasn’t until college that any of my dance classes had a live piano accompanist; and I remember feeling magic at the barre whether she was playing Chopin or a slowed-down version of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean. There are musicians, dancers, and music fans alike who love music but don’t read music or understand how it works – only how it sounds. And while I’m certain that their love for music isn’t less than mine or anyone else’s – I do feel like when you can read or play music it changes your relationship with and appreciation for music. Much the same way that you can love and be passionate about animals – but having and caring for a pet gives you a deeper understanding of their lives and personalities and gives you an even deeper respect. Music has an incredible power that for the majority of my life brought me happiness in dark times and inspiration and happiness and every other emotion in between.

Aside from classical music, my childhood and early adolescence was steeped in listening to whatever records my parents were listening to. For me that meant a lot of singer/songwriter and folksy music. I watched every Peter, Paul, & Mary live on PBS special; had a deep love of Simon and Garfunkel, and John Denver. (Take Me Home Country Road’ was the recessional hymn at my grandmother’s funeral) As a result, I am a total sucker for an amazing song that tells a story – regardless of genre. (You’re made of STONE if you aren’t moved by ‘Same Old Lang Syne’ by Dan Fogelberg) Additionally, my parents were fans of Broadway musicals, so Pippin, Grease, Camelot, and Jesus Christ Superstar were also in constant rotation. (This is a story for another post but my parents only saw each other 13 times in person before they got married and when my dad visited my mom in NYC they went to Broadway musicals in the 70’s Broadway heyday) That, combined with my dance always made me feel deeply connected with the music on the page, the ability of lyrics to invade your soul and tell a story, as well as the body’s physical movement & choreography to the sound was deeply ingrained in me from a young age. I took piano lessons and clarinet lessons and was in band in both Middle School and High School. I also spent my high school summers being in the orchestra pit of community theatre productions in Highland, Munster, and Crownpoint Indiana. I devoured music in high school like I was starving to death (goth, industrial, punk, classic rock, alternative, heavy metal – anything that I could groove to), and it was the only thing that would nourish me. That’s probably why it surprises people when I tell them that I spent almost 2 full years in total silence repulsed by the thought of music.

In a previous post, I wrote about how I met my ex-husband in 1994 in the Q101 chatroom on AOL. Our first conversation ever was about the Screeching Weasel album Bark Like A Dog and the Type O Negative album Bloody Kisses. He was as obsessed with music as I was. For 20-some years of our long history together, music was weaved through every seam of the fabric of our relationship. While he was a typical high school skateboarding punk rocker, he also had a long and eclectic history with music. He played basically every instrument, had an encyclopedic knowledge of music from classical to current pop, punk, rock, etc. Our connection through music was a cornerstone of our time with one another. Given everything that happened between him and I in the last decade; I don’t want to give him any positive recognition. But the unbiased reality is that he is/was extraordinarily talented. He was a fringe member of the Chicago-based Weasel Family, he played and recorded with John Jughead Pierson and Danny Vapid. So, he was deeply entrenched in the Chicago punk rock community – but it never fully satisfied him. He was so talented that pop-punk was “too easy” for him. He’d play difficult pieces and classical Spanish guitar angrily after coming home from a show because he’d felt “bored” for the past few hours. As a result of this particular trait of his malignant narcissism, he was always starting and leaving bands (usually after burning a bridge in a spectacular fashion) – always searching for musicians that were like-minded and as outrageously talented as he was. By default, since I was the girlfriend/fiancée/wife, I spent thousands of hours in recording studios, at shows, band practices, auditions, etc. When he wanted to write a song or an album, he did it himself.

That whole cycle usually left my ex with the challenge of trying to find live musicians that he considered “good enough” to play with him live. None of these arrangements ever lasted long because he felt that people couldn’t keep up with him. He didn’t NEED to practice so he was constantly frustrated by people who had to – or people that didn’t get a challenging riff or beat immediately. Therefore, I developed deeply entrenched and special memories and remembrances of literally thousands of songs, genres, local musicians, bands, genres, venues, and shows just from spending so many hours around him. To keep myself busy, I graded students’ Constitution Tests in a crappy recording studio in Joliet during a snowstorm and even wrote some Graduate School papers on a laptop at the bar at the Mutiny (RIP Mutiny Chicago). Hopefully the Class of 2003 never finds out that a couple of punk rockers sitting on the backseat bench of a defunct van that was serving as a couch helped me grade their homework before going out on Friday nights. (They were literate and had an answer key so no harm no foul)

After his accident, my now-ex-husband’s betrayals were laid bare to the world, while I was starting a new and highly stressful job and while he was institutionalized in a behavioral hospital. I was driving on a backcounty road between Kankakee, Illinois and my apartment in Schererville, Indiana by myself after a school board meeting one evening in the summer of 2019. The sun was just starting to set, and the weather was gorgeous – I was excited but nervous to be starting my new position even though my personal life was blowing up. I had my sunroof open and decided to turn on some music on Pandora for the hour+ drive home. Every single song on every single station felt like lightning striking my soul. I thought that maybe changing the channel from the Shins and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to something silly like pop punk would be somehow less emotional. As Teenage Bottlerocket’s “Stupid Song” came on I started to tear up. The last show we’d been to before our wedding with all of our friends was Teenage Bottlerocket at Brauerhouse. I had once driven 7 hours after teaching all day to see him open for Teenage Bottlerocket in Wisconsin and we hung out with the band until 2 am. I spun the digital dial again. There was literally NOTHING I could hear that didn’t tear me to pieces. We loved cheesy 80’s music. We loved watching Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Shit; God Gave Rock & Roll To You was the recessional hymn at our wedding. I couldn’t even listen to Motley Crue, Kiss, or Poison. Beethoven wasn’t an option; crappy early 90’s hip hop was out too; forget about goth, industrial, or any era of punk rock. Even the stuff that he had never liked and was solely my music was still connected to various events in our shared life and what was going on at the time – positive or not. It didn’t help that my ex had released a whole series of songs that were clearly diss-tracks of me/love songs to his mistress. Although I didn’t listen to it – it was out there in the ether and our mutual friends all had opinions about it that despite their best intentions I didn’t need to/want to hear about. If there is something MORE humiliating than being cheated on by your spouse, threatened by them, having your life savings stolen by them – it is having it all immortalized in music that’s out there in the public realm and completely misrepresents the truth. If anything, it did give me a newfound respect for celebrities who have all sorts of lies put out there about them. I was a nobody and had about 5 people asking me about some songs that very subtly shit-talked me – I can’t imagine living like that with thousands of people in your business all of the time.

Sorry Bob, but respectfully – not always the case.

So, I retreated into a monastic-like existence of absolute silence. I buried myself in work. Thankfully, the school turnaround that I was working at didn’t allow me much spare time or energy to spelunk through the caverns of my sadness. But I didn’t listen to a single song (at least not by choice). I didn’t listen to tunes in the car, or while lying baking in the sun at my apartment’s pool, or while I was taking walks in the forest preserve. I was just living in an eerie silence with a soundtrack of laptop keyboard- clacking. That August, I was grocery shopping, and the radio station was softly playing Flock of Seagulls and I abandoned my full cart and walked right out the door. (Paul Reynolds‘ guitar tone was my ex-husband’s inspiration for his own unique tone) It was as if the whole idea that music was some sort of an emotionally healing balm was just laughing in my face. Arguably mankind’s favorite peacemaker, music, was only bringing more war to my soul.

Wiss Auguste wrote “Once again she was free. Once again, she found peace. It was music that freed her soul from the dungeon of her mind.” But for me, hearing any music at all was putting me in a cage of what felt like hopeless sadness and anger. I felt like I was drowning and choking on any lyric and any melody that invaded my ears just poked all of the sore spots in my brain and my heart. At the time, I didn’t even realize that I was making conscious choices to avoid music. Sometimes when you’re in survival mode your mind and body just do what they have to do to get you through. My spirit was battered, and I could only tolerate a bare minimum of emotion while I healed and rebuilt my life one single day at a time. I am not a religious person. I had always felt a connection to the universe around me and believed that putting positive energy into the world would lead to positivity. For many music fanatics, music is our religion. In retrospect, maybe my silence makes sense. I’ve rarely met a religious person of any creed that has had a crisis of faith who hasn’t struggled with their church. Catholics, Muslims, Jews, or any other religious person can lose “God” and stop going to church for weeks, months, or decades and may or may not find their way back into the fold. So, in some ways, maybe my 2 years of silence was me turning my back on the only spirituality that had ever really mattered to me. A colleague of mine has a podcast where he asks guests, “What have you been listening to this week?” Every time I hear either him or his co-host ask that question, I’m a little relieved that no one had been asking me that question from 2019- early 2021. My answer would’ve been a pretty pathetic and somber, “absolutely nothing at all”.

Between May of 2019 and April of 2020, I was living on autopilot. When I wasn’t feeling stressed and overwhelmed with work and the pandemic and my divorce, I was feeling isolated, sad, lonely, and burned with a constant and simmering anger. I went to work for 12-16 hours a day, I took long walks, I took long naps cuddled up with my cat – but I didn’t listen to any music. I talked on the phone during my work commutes, I watched Netflix shows on my phone during my 3-mile walks at the Forest Preserve, I fast-forwarded through music-heavy portions of TV shows or movies when I watched them. By the time I realized that I was even doing it, I had already been doing it for 6 months or more. Eventually, despite the pandemic I started to think about dating again. Even during the height of the pandemic while submerged in a toxic work environment, things eventually settled into a routine that allowed me to start to decompress a little at a time. Like a teakettle, some of my emotions started to leak out and gradually reduced the pressure inside of me. Without really realizing it, music started to creep back into my life. I still avoided any music that was related to my ex-husband. I didn’t listen to anything that had been played at our wedding or his favorite bands.

I have always been and always will be a huge Keanu Reeves fan. I have loved Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure for decades. As a History teacher, I even showed it to my 6th & 7th graders and had them do a time traveling project at the end of the year when I was still in the classroom. Anytime a sequel or additional movies in a series that I like come out; I usually watch the other movies beforehand to get psyched up. In early August of 2020, I knew that Bill & Ted Face the Music was about to come out. I wasn’t sure if watching the movies and hearing the soundtrack would make me sad or not. I knew that I had progressed a lot in the previous year. I wasn’t just surviving but I was thriving – but I also didn’t want to back slide either. As a result, I watched Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure one weekend, Bogus Journey the following weekend, & Face the Music on a third weekend. I figured it would be better to spread out the experience a little and to wait until mid-September to get started on the 3-film process.

As a side note, I went on my first date with my current and amazing boyfriend on September 5, 2020. We wouldn’t officially get together until the following February, but we texted often while we were first getting to know each other during those months. One of the things that he had asked me about (of course) was my divorce, etc. He had asked me how I knew I was ready to date since my divorce wasn’t really that long ago – and I remember telling him that “I gave enough of my life to someone who destroyed me and made me feel awful. I won’t waste one more second on him now that I know who I am and what I want. Life is just too short.” I had no idea if I was over my ex-husband or not – but I knew that I wanted to be and I refused to allow him to prevent me from enjoying (of all things!) Bill & Ted. When I watched Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey home alone with my cat in my lap – I knew that iconic final scene would be a real test. The outrageous concept that it takes Bill & Ted 40 years of time traveling to figure out how to play a single Kiss song notwithstanding, as I heard the opening chords of God Gave Rock & Roll To You start, I noticed that I was tapping my foot. I wasn’t feeling pain – I was just simply enjoying the moment. I wasn’t thinking about walking down the aisle with my husband at the end of our wedding to it; I was just enjoying Bill & Ted winning the Battle of the Bands. It somehow felt like I was waking up from being hypnotized.

I woke up slowly though. It was another whole year before I found my way fully back to music. When I started my new job at the Middle School where I was once in band myself – at first, I avoided the Band Room when I could. I was no longer fast forwarding through musical parts of TV shows or movies, and I occasionally was listening to the radio while I was in the car – but I was still actively avoiding emotional or personal music connections. When you wake up from a long sleep or heal from deep wounds you move slowly at first. Before you heal, you get medicine or take painkillers so that your pain doesn’t overwhelm your body and you can heal while being numb enough to tolerate life. Over time, burns callous over, and you grow new skin and old wounds don’t hurt anymore. The first step in the process for me was music creeping back into the background of my life unnoticed and serving as” just music”/neutral background noise. Slowly, it started becoming an occasional conscious choice again – and eventually back to what it is now – a joyful and cathartic necessity pulsing through my life – just like the air in my lungs.

Now, I have a newfound love for and a rejuvenated relationship with music. I have an amazing job that I love and a healthy, joyful relationship with a man that loves and respects me. Not only is he as passionate about music as I am – but we have made new and special memories with a fresh and exciting soundtrack. We have our own awesome and mutual musical experiences together. As a Chicago House Music enthusiast, he’s introduced me to new music that I’d never heard, creating a vibe that is exciting and fresh and fun. We went to DJ Collete’s birthday party at Smart Bar, danced to Tchami at the iconic Club Space in Miami, went on a behind the scenes tour of Paisley Park in Minneapolis and saw Prince’s shoe collection and held his SuperBowl guitar (basking in the eternal presence of one of the greatest musicians to ever live), we do silly dances while making dinner, and we watch old Talking Heads, David Bowie, Ramones, and Queen concerts while cuddled up happily on the couch.

Music is freeing and fun and fresh again. For the most part, even the artists that were the most connected to my relationship with my ex-husband are basically back in my constant rotation. While there are some songs that bring back a sharp twinge of sadness for me and that I don’t choose to listen to voluntarily anymore (Green Day’s ‘Ordinary World‘ that we danced to at our wedding; or Yaz’s ‘Only You‘ that was considered ‘our song’ for most of our relationship; or other songs that we’d had a special connection to) – but I no longer actively avoid them either. My ability to be spiritual and feel connected to the universe has returned. My world is no longer silent and painful – but rather is full of music and emotion again. Instead of draining me, it now energizes me and powers me. Not only do I want to listen to my old favorites, but I want to discover new favorites and feel an energy that I haven’t had in a long time. The next time someone asks me what I’ve been listening to, my answer will be a stark difference from the ‘silence’ of 2020-21. (Unless I’m referring to the song the Sounds of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel which I have been listening to on the first edition Concert in the Park vinyl that my man bought me for my birthday – because I’ve definitely been spinning that lately) In fact, the current playlist will be long and varied and full of options – just like whatever the future may have in store.

When Leadership Was Loneliest

The phrase, “It’s lonely at the top”, is commonly thrown around by anyone in an elite or “top tier” leadership position. Professional athletes, celebrities, church leaders, school administrators, CEO’s, and those who lead organizations worldwide are all familiar with the phrase. While it may seem cliché, the reality is that the higher you climb on any organization’s ladder, the fewer peers that you have, and typically the more responsibility that you shoulder. When I was in my Master’s program for Educational Leadership, every professor that I had (all of them former superintendents and principals), told me that “Leadership is lonely”. They all claimed that to withstand the pressure I should find mentors and peers that I could trust and lean on. They all reminded us that there is only one principal in the building or superintendent in the district and it’s difficult (and very solitary) when you feel like there’s no one to share your struggles or celebrations with. Jane Sigford writes extensively about this concept in her book, Who Said School Administration Would Be Fun? Coping With a New Social and Emotional Reality. In fact, one professor of School Finance advised me and my classmates that the best method to deal with needing someone to trust and lean on as a leader was to “get a dog or a cat. Someone who will love you no matter what decisions you make and who you can endlessly vent to and that you can trust will NEVER tell anyone. Because they can’t talk. I don’t recommend a parrot because that isn’t a 100% guarantee with them.” I often wonder what sort of bird betrayed his trust that he felt that he needed to clarify.

Then, I was still in the classroom and although I understood what he was getting at, I couldn’t truly understand what he meant. I learned his true meaning firsthand a couple of years later as a first-year assistant principal when I was crying all alone in my office at 6 PM on the day. That evening, I had just signed my first recommendation for expulsion paperwork. That was the first moment that I truly felt the weight of his words deep in my bones. You can be an armchair administrator all day long as a teacher. You can second guess and question or even disagree with your principal or assistant principal’s decisions all day long – but you can NEVER feel the weight of them until it’s YOUR signature on the paperwork or your own personal responsibility to make an impossible call. Whether you’re dismissing an employee, handing a child over to Child Protective Services to be removed from their home, recommending expulsion for a 13 year old, or calling a Snow Day – when you know going into a decision that it won’t be respected, liked, or agreed with, and you don’t even know for sure whether or not it’s the right call – you feel an emotional weight that you simply can’t and won’t ever understand as a teacher. Knowing that the trajectory of an employee’s career or a child’s life will be potentially irreversibly impacted by your decision/action is a burden to bear. You have to trust your knowledge, context, gut, and legal counsel and despite everyone’s feedback stick to what you know is right despite praise or criticism. There is a large body of research on the negative implications of suspension from school on students (especially male students and African American students). One study by Lacoe and Steinberg, summarizes all of the negative outcomes on students that have been suspended from school. They state the following:

“We find some evidence that each additional day of suspension for classroom disorder infractions decreases test scores, with estimates ranging from a statistically insignificant −0.01 (based on the fixed effects model) to −0.06 standard deviations in both math and ELA, based on the IV models (Table 4, Panel A). These effects appear to be concentrated among middle-school students (Table 4, Panel C), where each additional day of classroom disorder OSS decreases test scores by 0.07 standard deviations.”

Lacoe, J., & Steinberg, M. P. (2019). Do Suspensions Affect Student Outcomes? Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis, 41(1), 34–62. https://doi.org/10.3102/0162373718794897

Every time I sign a middle school students’ suspension paperwork I consider how I am impacting their life and what the cost-benefit analysis is for the learner vs. the learning community. It’s not a concept that the teacher has to attach their signature to at the end of the day even if the infraction occurred in their classroom – even if the child was wildly disrespectful to them – or if the kid just really gets on their nerves. It’s not a part of my job that I take lightly. And I have to trust myself when I’m making that call and I have to accept the blow back if my decision is criticized by the parent or teacher; and I have to carry the weight. The classroom teacher doesn’t – at least not in the same way. I know because I was once a classroom teacher who had kids who misbehaved in my classroom. And someone I was glad when they were “finally suspended”. Even though I knew suspension was serious I wasn’t weighing the full cost-benefit analysis to the students’ entire life – I was thinking of the impact on my classroom community.

School leaders’ role in making weighty decisions are a shared professional experience. With that being said; you’d think that leaders could at least rely on one another for support when it’s needed. To a certain extent that’s true. I rely on the moral support that I get from Twitter, LinkedIn, and Facebook leadership groups often. I enjoy the networking, the advice, and the helpful tips that my skilled and respected colleagues have to share. I have always firmly believed that if people pool their resources and share the combined wealth of their knowledge; all can benefit. I turned to those groups heavily during the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic as a leader in totally uncharted waters. On March 13, 2020 my district’s superintendent and Teacher’s Union President toured all the schools to make the announcement that the following day would likely be our final day of in-person learning. Teachers were told to say goodbye to their students with the understanding that they likely would not see them in person again that year. Everyone was told to bring all of their belongings home and to prepare for remote learning for potentially the rest of the school year. Once the governor declared the State of Emergency the following day, it was determined that no one was to report to the school buildings in person (including administrators).

In my district, all work by all employees was remote until July 1, 2020. Beginning on July 1, administrators, lunchroom staff, and 2 secretaries per building were mandated to return to the schools in person. While there, their responsibilities were to oversee food distribution to needy families and to supervise remote summer school classes while planning for the start of the next (remote) school year. All of us were working grueling hours (albeit it from home from March-July). Vacation days were cancelled or weren’t approved. No one had any rest. The kinds of stressful decisions being made about how we would organize any sort of remote/hybrid learning for the fall; how to staff our buildings; and the myriad of other decisions that needed to be made kept us on zoom from 7am-at least 6:30PM 5-6 days a week. I still have a screen shot of a meeting that I was in that lasted well past 9 PM on a Thursday evening. Saying that it was hard on all of us is a gross understatement. All 3 of these pictures were taken on the same day (From left to right 11 am, 4 PM, 8:45 PM)

To put my own experience in perspective, I was living alone (with my 2 kitties); going through a divorce from a man who had cheated on me and stolen upwards of $100,000 from me, and was in a highly toxic, defeating, and punitive work environment. I had just started considering dating again when the whole world shut down and there was simply no where to go, and meeting people seemed even more risky and dangerous than before the pandemic. I was socially isolated from friends, family, and coworkers. I was certainly feeling overwhelmed and stressed from work – but I was also experiencing a very deep loneliness that was beyond the typical “leadership loneliness” that any school administrator eventually grows accustomed to. So like many of my peers, I turned to my digital support system.

I suppose I didn’t know what sort of solace I was hoping to find in my networking groups. But instead of comfort, I actually felt stark alienation from the very group of people that I had come to trust and rely on when I was feeling professionally burdened. I was serving as a high school assistant principal (in a building without a principal or even an interim principal), during a global pandemic. It was definitely not a welcoming or a healthy workplace before the pandemic – but COVID exponentially exacerbated the negativity and toxicity. As I scrolled through Facebook and Twitter groups of school administrators (all just as stressed and overwhelmed and emotional as I was), I actually began to feel a whole new level of anxiety and even jealousy.

While I can certainly IMAGINE that being in the house 24/7 with children and pets and working from home was probably stressful for a lot of families – it broke my heart to read complaint after complaint about “I can’t take being in the house with these kids/my husband/these dogs”. Even in my fellow school administrator groups, it seemed like everyone had nothing but negative things to say about being “stuck” with their loved ones 24/7. For those of us who were ALSO leading a school through an impossibly stressful time, but were ALSO doing it totally ALONE with no one (in person) to support us – it almost felt like a slap in the face. I felt angry and isolated. How dare these people that were so blessed to have children or a spouse (something I had been robbed of and wouldn’t get to have) be complaining about the sound of happy laughter coming from their basement? Didn’t they know that some of us would have KILLED for their “problems”? If only I could have had someone right there to hug me after an awful and frustrating work call that lasted until 9PM! While it is always easy to fall into the “grass is always greener” trap of comparing one’s life to other people’s – it was especially hard for me to keep those feelings in check in late 2020.

When I got my signed divorce papers in the mail I didn’t know what they were. It was just a plain envelope from my lawyer’s office. Since my ex-husband had been institutionalized, hadn’t hired a lawyer, and had hid from me and the entire process – I hadn’t received any updates on the ongoing progress of my case in months. Honestly, I remember running to the mailbox when I heard the mail carrier (because some days he was my only human interaction and I’d gotten into the habit of waving at him and saying hi from behind the glass). I recall grabbing the envelope out of the mailbox and expecting it to include a bill for some additional hours related to the marshals that were needed to locate my ex-husband when he hid and failed to appear in court the previous November. There are just some memories that you just FEEL deep inside of your bones even years later. (Where you were when the moon landing or 9/11 happened, where you were when your parent passed away, the smell of your house on Christmas morning, etc.) For me, opening that envelope on April 8, 2020 is one of those moments forever both frozen in time and viscerally reexperienced as a full body memory anytime it’s mentioned. I was standing in the front hallway of my house and tearing open the envelope while the smell of brewing coffee wafted in from the kitchen. The house was silent other than the Keurig bubbling in the next room. A single-spaced letter on my lawyer’s letterhead simply stated:

“Dear Jennifer, Enclosed please find a copy of your Decree of Dissolution and Property Settlement Agreement which was signed by the Judge. As of the 6th day of April 2020, you were officially returned to the status of a single person. If you have any questions please contact my office at your convenience.”

And that was it. It took me less than 5 seconds to read. I dropped to the floor like a bag of cement (my right knee cracked) and sat down like a kindergartener with my legs crossed right there in my front hallway. My hands shook and I turned to the back page. I don’t know what I was expecting to see there. For more than 20 years I had seen my husband’s name signed on a variety of documents. His gorgeous penmanship had always impressed me. He was left handed but ambidextrous. His perfect Palmer method cursive was always gorgeous and identical regardless of which hand he had used. When I saw his signature on our divorce decree I choked and cried uncontrollable tears of rage and sadness. I had never before and have never since felt more lonely in my entire life (including the period after my college house fire I mentioned in a previous post). His signature was sloppy and careless and not his usual gorgeous handwriting. He hadn’t even cared about me or what he’d done to me in the past several months to take the time to write his name properly for the court. I had had no warning that these papers were coming. I was alone at home during the height of the uncertainty of the pandemic. And every school leader that I had come to rely on for support in my loneliest moment – was griping and complaining about being home with their loved ones while I cried in an empty house. As a leader and as a human being – I had never felt so alone and insignificant in the universe.

I thought that certainly there were others like me out there but maybe they had also been quiet in the digital world. In a school leadership Facebook group that I had long been a member of – I took a big vulnerable risk and made a long post. I basically asked the question: “Is there anyone else out there doing this right now – ALL of this – but is also doing it completely alone? Is there anyone else out there conflicted and angry by seeing people with spouses & families – that are blessed to have them – and feeling isolated and pissed off when they see all these people complaining? Is there anyone out there AT ALL who is seeing the “get out of my home office kids!” with the adorable pictures of kids on their parents’ laps and is feeling incredibly jealous?” “Is there anyone else out there pissed off and TOTALLY alone?” And initially, I was overwhelmingly “supported”. People patted me on the back for running a school without a principal or district support; people praised me for being brave and facing a divorce alone; several people that also lived alone offered some encouraging words. However, much of the support offered also felt like backhanded compliments or even “leadership critiques”. Several people offered me support “but you should cut people slack for complaining about how difficult it is to work from home with kids”, or “you’re doing a great job and I’m sure it’s hard but have you considered counseling” (I was seeing a crisis counselor already). Or my personal favorite, “It must be hard to see all those posts but don’t forget that this is hard for everyone – even those who have 3 kids, 2 dogs, a cat, and a husband to keep them company!” All I was seeking was maybe a little bit of empathy and I was pleading with my support system to maybe consider how great they just may have it. A simple request to maybe consider the diversity of their audience before posting complaints, especially when some of that audience didn’t have the added “burden” (or as I viewed it – a blessing) of GETTING to do any of this with the ones they loved. Maybe it was simple jealousy. And maybe it was because I had turned to school leaders for support.

Leaders LOVE to offer advice. They get paid to solve complex problems and mentor people. They ask you if you’ve “considered all of the stakeholders viewpoints”, or if you “asked the right people for feedback.” And in a Building Leadership Team meeting or a parent conference, or any other WIDE variety of scenarios that would 100% be the correct response (and welcomed by any good leader). But in reality, all I had wanted was a “wow I didn’t realize there may be people out there feeling this way. I validate your feelings. I feel really blessed to tuck my kids in at night. I’m here for you if you want to talk or scream or yell or throw things.” Sometimes all people need is an ear to listen without being offered a toolkit for addressing their feelings. In the years since, I have consciously tried to become the empathetic listener that I had needed to break my loneliness on April 8, 2020. I have made a concerted effort when colleagues or friends have started venting about something to ask the question, “before we go on, do you just want me to listen, or would you like advice, or a combination of both?’ Or I say nothing at all and let them finish and then say “How would you like me to support you?” One person from that Facebook direct messaged me with the very simple message, “I can’t believe how hard what you’re going though must be without anyone else in your home to share it with. How can I support you?” Honestly their message just made me feel seen and heard. We had a good conversation about what loneliness really is and compared ways that we’d each dealt with it in the past. It felt 1000% times better than any of the “pity” or the “backhanded advice” I had received from anyone else. I left that group because eventually it got exhausting to reexplain my feelings or my situation to so many different people as new people came across the post and would comment. Sometimes you have to stitch the wound and let it heal and not keep tearing it open.

My experience is sort of an example of what happened to the personal and professional worlds during the height of the pandemic. Everything felt squished together in a way that it hadn’t been previously. When people left work, they left work and family time was family time. Home was home and work was work. (One can argue that the last 10 years’ worth of technology had already been blurring these lines – and one would be correct – but COVID and remote work cemented the deal.) I think that if I had been a member of a parents’ Facebook group the expectation of people discussing their family issues would’ve been more predictable – but I was in a group about leading schools. As school leaders were working from home and the lines became more and more blurred, it makes sense that the venue had a lot of cross over. Upon reflection, I can’t blame my peers for looking for solace the same way that I had been. It isn’t that surprising that their personal worlds were colliding with their professional ones and creating a whole different and new category of frustrations. We were in the same storm but we all had different boats. In the middle of a hurricane, whether in a cruise ship, a yacht, a pontoon, or a dingy – the storm is scary and it sucks. The stress on school leaders has increased to the point of crisis levels. Per an article in Education Weekly, “The Center for Creative Leadership found that, “Eighty-eight percent of leaders report that work is a primary source of stress in their lives and that having a leadership role increases the level of stress. More than 60 percent of surveyed leaders cite their organizations as failing to provide them with the tools they need to manage stress.”” We were all paddling wildly in that storm from our respective boats – but some of them were more seaworthy than others.

It is NEVER a popular move for a person with no children to tell people with children not to complain. (So stop reading now if you’re about to get offended) But nonetheless it is VERY difficult when you’re completely isolated, mourning the children you’ll never have from a marriage that unceremoniously ended after a couple of months, while also leading a school alone through uncharted waters, to empathize with someone “complaining” about getting to spend time with their adorable toddler who woke them up at 5 am. Maybe it was just petty envy, but it was a hard pill for me to swallow at the time. Even years before my marriage blew up, it always sort of irked me on Daylight Savings time when I had friends and colleagues complaining about their kids or pets “getting them up an hour early because of the time-change.”

For example, I have a high-school acquaintance who struggled with fertility. She had her sons at 38 and 40 after years of heartache and disappointment. Prior to her sons being born, all she could talk about was how badly she wanted children. Then she had them. And ever since then (but especially during the pandemic), she has frequently complained about how “mom tired” she is, how early her kids get her up on the weekends (she’s always loved to sleep until early afternoon), and is a prime “daylight saving time” griper. In April of 2020 when it came across my timeline (fresh off that crushing divorce paper delivery), I simply commented “maybe you should phrase your fatigue as a scenario where you GET an EXTRA hour with the children you so desperately wanted, while those of us without them to hug right now might be feeling an extra hour of absence or even envy or loneliness.” (Let that hypocrisy flag fly there as I did exactly what I was complaining that my colleagues had done to me when they asked me to consider my stakeholders lol) I am normally a champion of being grateful. Most of my life I have been grateful for everything that I have and have always tried to squash any tempting “the grass is greener” feelings. Most of the time I am a happy, content, peaceful, and relatively zen person. But April of 2020 wasn’t one of my finer moments. Whether it is fair or not, I do somewhat still internally judge parents who are always complaining about their kids. I 100% identify that I can’t relate to their personal family dynamics and the challenges their children pose. But I’ve learned how to accept my own personal reality and celebrate what I have rather than mourn what I don’t since then. I do however, feel like 100% of all people can empathize with loneliness.

In the time since April of 2020 my life has been completely transformed. I have a great job in a place that is supportive and healthy and non-toxic. I have a great and happy and functional relationship. I have a supportive and high quality (albeit it small and tight) social circle. My work-life balance is decent (although during teacher evaluation season it is less awesome). I don’t look back on that time with regret or anger or sadness. Instead, I prefer to think about the insight I gained on listening and empathy that I now have as a result of that period of my life. While I didn’t know it at the time, my being vulnerable, reaching out, and not quite getting what I needed was a great training exercise for me to become a better listener and communicator. It will always be like poking a scab for me to remember the way that I felt opening that envelope in my hallway all alone. But it’s a nice point of comparison when I think about where I am in my life right now and all of the wonderful colleagues, friends, and loved ones that I choose to surround myself with now. By learning what I needed in and from a support system – I feel like I was able to (painfully) grow and become a more supportive person myself. I would like to believe that being an empathetic listener who isn’t “leading” or “advising” all of the time makes me a better partner, friend, and leader for others.

Square Pegs and Round Holes

Being a middle and high school teacher for decade(s) has given me a lot of experience with cliques, subcultures, groups, “scenes”, and teen dynamics. Of course as an adult, everyone has their own distinct memories of living through those dynamic/traumatizing/formative years – but when you see it day in and day out through multiple trends and variations daily at work – then as an adult your reflections tend to stay rooted a little more in realism rather than the rose-colored glasses of a long-removed adolescence.

There are so many things missing from this flowchart!

While most of my college or high school friends would have described me as a “goth kid”, I always hated being put into a box. Then, (and now) I am more likely to describe myself as a “nonconformist”. I never quite fit in entirely with one group over another in high school. Of course, going to a high school of less than 900 students; I didn’t have much of a choice. There were maybe 3 goth kids, a couple of punks, a couple of skateboarders, a raver or two, and a few random hippies. Everyone else was some sort of a variation of the typical preppie kid. Those of us that were involved in some sort of a subculture had no choice but to stick together at school because the rest of the “gen-pop” kids simply referred to our entire diverse collective as “the freaks.” In some ways, I’m incredibly grateful for the experience. All of the kids that I knew from other local (and much larger) public high schools were usually “stuck in their clique”. The punks hung with the punks, the skaters hung with the skaters, etc. and in addition to the gen-pop kids harassing them – their groups harassed each other (primordial internet flame-wars, fights, etc). Every teenage scene still has a certain level of pretention to it. Each clique tends to move and act with a singular “hive mind” that looks down on all of the other hives. Having been deprived of having a single scene to completely immerse myself in – I just floated from one day to the next embracing the parts of each group that I learned from, enjoyed, listened to, or liked – without the added pressure of ever truly fitting in. You couldn’t really be shunned by “the freaks” (unless you joined the football team – and in reality at my small school not even that wouldn’t have mattered much). In a lot of ways my nonconformity/lack of exclusive “loyalty” to any particular scene is what built the foundation of my adult personality and eventually my teaching philosophy and the path of my career in education. The experience taught me to be multi-faceted, appreciate other people’s differences/strengths, have a thick skin, and to be courageous, empathetic, and collaborative.

I have always considered myself a “late bloomer” to the music world. When I was little, the only music that I heard was classical ballet music in my dance classes, or whatever oldies/folk/talk radio that my dad listened to in the car. When all of my young tween friends were discovering New Kids on the Block, I was reading books and knew about 4 songs by John Denver. By the time I got to Junior High, I had finally started to listen to music for pleasure. From the beginning I guess I was “weird” in that I didn’t have a defined or set “taste”. The first CD’s I bought with my own money (at Coconuts Music) in 7th grade were the soundtrack to the Bodyguard and Ugly Kid Joe (I can’t believe they still exist btw). My taste has always been eclectic. Both then and now I was/am just as likely to listen to Peter, Paul, and Mary, Chopin, KMFDM, Nine Inch Nails, Screeching Weasel, Prince, or Depeche Mode. Mixed tapes in my earliest driving days were unpredictable. One of my favorite tapes had “Misty Mountain Hop” by Led Zepplin followed immediately by Screeching Weasel’s “I Hate Led Zepplin”. The irony of loving them both and blasting them in rapid succession was a favorite part of my carpool ride home from school down Hohman Avenue. One of those commutes listening to my crazy eclectic mixed tapes may actually have been the subconscious beginnings of my eventually becoming a teacher. (Which at the time didn’t even exist as a fully-formed thought in my mind. I went to college with the full intention of becoming a dentist)

One of the kids that I hung out with, Mike Hentic – a true punk through and through (2-foot mohawk and all), was in my car with a couple of his other friends. I didn’t go to school with Mike and I was usually a quiet person out in public who didn’t say too much until I felt that I really had something to say – so he had no idea that I was “smart” before that day. I remember wearing a Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt and a typical black skirt and boots that day but when he got into the car he noticed we were listening to the punk bands the Queers and the Descendants. A friend of Mike’s that was with him muttered the usual critique of “are you goth or what? why are you listening to punk? what a poseur.” After reminding him (in a typically teen angsty way) that my poseur gas was actually giving him a ride, I asked him what he thought being a punk meant. He gave me the usual “doing whatever you want and not caring what people think!” I told him that me listening to whatever I felt like while wearing whatever I felt like- despite what other people (including punks) thought – was me living exactly the philosophy that he was describing. At some point, I told him if he wanted to get right down to it, Socrates started the punk movement because of his firm and public ability to tell people who tried to control his thoughts to “get bent”, and drank poison instead – all while wearing a simple white toga. He humored me and eventually told me that I was a nerd because I knew so much about history. Later on that summer when someone ELSE called me a poseur at the local diner hangout, Mike just said, “dude trust me she’s punk as hell. But unless you want to learn about the crusty BC year punks just let it be.” I was picked on for being a goth that listened to punk music and was simultaneously ridiculed by some goths who also called me a poseur because my interests extended into more than one musical and fashion genre.

As a result, I grew a thick skin and learned to unapologetically like whatever I wanted to like. That thick skin has served me well teaching Middle and High School kids for 20 years – and is quite helpful in school administration (if you think teenagers are tough to deal with try taking on some pissed off adult high school teachers). If you can shake off a 17-year old in 1997 yelling “freak kid” out their Plymouth Acclaim window while throwing cans of Pepsi at you – it seems like less of a big deal when a 6th grader in 2008 says “Ms. H please don’t wear that shirt with those pants – woof!” If you can tolerate a peer cheerleader in 1996 saying, “Umm what’s with the makeup Morticia? Are you TRYING to look ugly?” then it doesn’t seem like as big of a deal when a group of teachers tell you you that the SEL project that you worked on all summer long for their benefit is something that they consider to be a “total waste of time”. Dragons and alligators have nothing on this former goth kid’s pale skin.

A trait that I never considered myself to have when I was younger was courage. I wasn’t the first kid to raise their hand in class or give their presentation. Then, (and still now) I consider myself an introvert. But I suppose there’s a certain level of “courage” (or attention-seeking) involved in bleaching your hair white, dying it blue, wearing plastic pants, feather boas, and funeral veils when everyone else is wearing GAP jeans, sports jerseys, and baseball hats. My friends and I knew that we’d get comments or stares or peoples’ eyes rolled in our general direction when we rolled up to River Oaks or Southlake Mall looking like a combination of Rocky Horror Picture Show walk-of-shamers, anarchist weirdos, and gender-benders. We did it anyway. We faked it until we made it. If it bothered us – we didn’t let anyone know it and defiantly trekked through Record Swap, Gadzooks, or the food court anyway. The early to mid-90’s didn’t exactly have the same vibe or expectation of “tolerance” that we have now. (We are not THERE yet as a society in terms of tolerance and in fact these past couple of years may have set us back a bit; but there has definitely been some growth) For example; Brad Pitt just got praised for wearing a skirt to a red carpet event. My buddy Colin got a beer thrown at him for wearing the sparkly dress in the picture below that was taken in 1999. As a society perhaps we’ve grown a little bit – but it still takes courage to be different and it always has. That courage has helped me tackle things like being told “you’re teaching Sex Ed to 7th graders next year”, “you’re giving a School Board Presentation on the effectiveness of the program you created”, “you’re going to get a union grievance”, “you’re going to train an auditorium of 1000 teachers”….. or any other variety of difficult/uncomfortable things that I’ve faced over the years. If I could walk into a mall wearing fishnets as sleeves without batting a glittery eyelash I suppose I’m pretty well-fortified from any nerves that I may get from facing high school kids and teachers.

Constantly having to defend my own interests and unconventional style helped to make me a lot more accepting of others as a teenager. While other kids in subcultures and cliques fought amongst themselves, I just did my own thing. I didn’t NEED any particular group to accept me. (I also attribute this to my independent nature as a kid who liked to play by herself – see a previous post). As a result, once I got into my first classroom, I wasn’t bothered too much by tweens making borderline “disrespectful”/shock-inspiring comments. Besides wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to get on a kid for being a little shocking when I was wandering through the mall in full on pleather and doc martens in the 90’s? I don’t usually get escalated easily. If you can’t make fun of yourself and be vulnerable in front of your students or your staff life gets very stressful and unhappy very quickly. (Have you even made it in 21st century education until your students make a diss-meme about you that you laugh at completely un-offended in front of them? Then make it into a running gag in the class?)

Diss meme means you’ve MADE it!

When I was a teenager, I had a carefully cultivated goth image but was able to code switch from one crowd to another in order to “participate productively within every group” – even if they didn’t fully accept me as one of their own. I had a passion and curiosity for learning about other people and their interests and tried to listen more than I talked. As a result, there were and still are very few people that I can’t at least marginally relate to. That empathy and ability to see things through multiple lenses (the punk lens, the goth lens, the jock lens, the administrator lens, the teacher lens, the parent lens, the student lens), makes it possible for me to adapt to (note – adapt to but not necessarily like) whatever role is needed given a particular situation at school. I can be the listener to the upset kid whose parents are getting divorced, I can enthusiastically applaud the student who just did his first slam dunk on the basketball court (even though I HATE school athletics I can embrace being a “poseur” and cheer my little black heart out), and I can rock out to support the kids at the band concert (even if they’re playing the WORST songs ever) . Without changing my core beliefs, I can be supportive and find the value in others’ talents even when they vastly differ from my own or involve things I would never choose to do myself. Every group and situation has something that you can find to like or at least appreciate within it (I mean within reason because racists or hate groups don’t have ANY redeeming qualities – I’m talking about types of school cliques, music genres, or subcultures not political parties or hate groups). Life is just too short to limit yourself to being afraid of being called a poseur. I’ll never be a math teacher – but I sure as hell will beg, borrow, and steal awesome strategies I’ve seen math teachers use – just like I’ll NEVER be a denim-shorts-wearing country girl but will rock out with Hank Williams and John Denver anytime.

A lot of the typical goth or punk kids that I went to school with all LOATHED school. They took pride in being the biggest assholes they could to anyone in a position of authority (parent, teachers, cops, managers at restaurants, etc). I’m sure we all have memories of the “punk kids” with mohawks, prison-style homemade tattoos, and ripped up plaid pants being wildly and openly disrespectful to teachers, storming out of classrooms, yelling at cops, or skateboarding down a hallway. Or the Goth kids cutting class to smoke cloves behind the athletic shed and giving teachers the finger (South Park gets Goth kids SO RIGHT!) Or the hippies hiding under the bleachers smoking pot and getting into fights with the baseball team. But that was never me. I may have broken my private school’s dress code openly by wearing heavy black makeup, ripped up fishnet tights, outrageous jewelry, and dark lipstick but I never misbehaved (at least not by being disrespectful). I never got a detention or got sent to the dean’s office (for anything OTHER than my clothes or makeup). I didn’t give teachers a hard time or take a “damn the man f-you” attitude. In fact, it really bothered me when other goth or punk kids DID do that. In fact, the teachers that many of my peers hated the most were some of my favorites. I can still remember that Mrs. Cantwell (dreaded by my peers); taught me how to take my writing to the next level. Her “harsh” grading pushed me to new heights. Her advice sophomore year and high expectations prepared me more for college than any of the typical “popular teachers” ever had. She was tough as nails and had high expectations of her students and herself – which in a lot of ways is also how I am. I hated when other kids disrespected her.

This is the image inside every non-conformists’ head when faced with something they think is trash. But whether or not it stays in your head usually the makes all the difference.

I was always a subliminal/understated sort of semi-anarchist/disrupter. I have never thought it was useful to convince people that you were an asshole if you wanted to change things. In order to change systems it requires collaboration. And frankly, no one wants to collaborate with an asshole. It’s probably just one of the reasons why violent revolutions throughout history fail – assholes who won’t collaborate, compromise, or get others on board with their ideas. If you want to take down systems, laws, or institutions that are bogus – you have to actually understand them. Being seen as an idiot or an ignorant/rude asshole won’t get you what you want – it will alienate you from anyone who might actually agree with you and be able to help you. Taking your anger out on people that have no influence on the architects of those systems won’t get you what you want either. Telling a teacher to fuck off because you didn’t do your homework really isn’t the way to address educational inequality or the oppression that you feel that your school’s dress code represents. I’ve always believed that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

The punk scene is chock full of anger and piss and vinegar; and the goth scene is FULL of “look-down-your-nose at idiotic/uneducated people” pretention. But the most influential punks/goths that I have known over the years just aren’t assholes. They listen, create and cultivate an audience that they treat with respect, and move toward solutions and/or advocacy methods that promote win-win solutions. I used to tell my friends all the time that “your getting kicked out of school for being a dick doesn’t make you a punk – it makes you stupid. And then you fulfill every stereotype out there that people have about people like us – that we’re idiots who don’t care about anything and aren’t educated and don’t have jobs, and don’t have any ideas worth listening to. Being a nonconformist doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole.” One raver kid at my high school that was lumped in with us “freaks” organized a peaceful boycott of our schools’ vending machines. When the price of a can of Pepsi was raised from 25 cents to 75 cents everyone was upset. He organized a boycott of the machine that was peaceful and had literally the entire student body (even those that usually threw Pepsi at him for wearing glittery eyeliner) participating. The price was changed back. (Those were the days!) If he had just vandalized the machine and gotten kicked out of school – we probably would’ve ended up with no vending machine at all. Everyone got together to collaborate with him toward a common goal – no one got kicked out of school – and we all ended up getting what we wanted (25 cent cans of soda). A small victory for sure – but an example of effective collaboration with an unconventional leader towards a common goal.

I never believed that a system could really be “completely taken down” from the inside – but rather that it could be incrementally changed from within – and that it would never get changed at all without understanding it’s history, how it worked, or it’s intricacies. I rely on this belief a lot when it comes time to work on my school(s)’ Improvement Plans every year. You don’t walk into a school and burn it all down and throw out the baby with the bath water and have a “revolution” to increase the diversity or equity within your building. You don’t just fire everyone and start fresh. You can’t expel all 1000+ students and get new ones and start over. But you CAN study and understand what you have, the strengths and weaknesses of everyone that you’re working with, determine what you need, and then collaborate as a cohesive group to change the parts of the system that need improvement. You can’t do that if you’re too busy burning everything down while everyone on your team thinks you’re a rude asshole. You can be angry at the way things are and you can ALSO be productive in changing things effectively without making enemies out of everyone you meet (although you’re definitely going to make enemies if you’re trying to improve any system in a school, business, or society in general).

A lot of people that were heavily involved in a subculture in their adolescence or adulthood will describe it as a “family”. A place that they felt welcomed into and fit in with. A safe community where they felt valued and cared for. Unfortunately, many of the people my own age that I encounter that have this rather fond and rosy view are in fact, men. Like society in general, subcultures were a microcosm of a society. (And society favors men. They make the rules and are generally the gatekeepers. They manage the bands, book the shows, sell the tickets, control the record companies, own the fashion companies , run the stores, and frankly they make the money if there’s money to be made). I don’t have all of the same rosy memories of goth/punk shows and “the scene” that many of my male peers seem to. These memories tend to branch off in different directions mostly when we talk about shows. (Although that’s not to say I didn’t have the time of my life at a lot of shows – I definitely did!) While many guys describe these experiences as fun and say that the crowd(s) had a certain kind of unity (“if you fall someone picks you up!”) – for teen girls and young women in that scene the experience was often different.

When I was 16-23 I’m sure I would’ve loved to be close to the stage when I saw my favorite bands and idols in the flesh. It looked really fun from the back of the venue. But the few times that I ventured (or was allowed) close; it just seemed like a some sort of exercise in toxic masculinity (Mind you not ALWAYS but more times than not). A lot of those “pits” were just an excuse for people (ie guys) to fight without repercussions. And some girls who were just trying to enjoy themselves and actually watch the band were aggressively elbowed, punched, hit, trampled, or more nefariously groped by guys who used the excuse “stay out of the pit if you don’t want to fight/get groped/manhandled!” (Young ladies were not always blameless in this scenario either – some of them were also wildly aggressive fighters too) Every girl that I personally associated with back then knew better than to wear a skirt to a punk or a metal show. In reflection, the irony is that many groups at these shows who claimed to be “against the system!” and into “unity” didn’t always seem very into actual gender equity and respect when the rubber was hitting the road at shows. Of course these are broad generalizations – a lot of young men that I interacted with back then weren’t like that on an individual basis and tended to “protect” their female friends. But the ironic fact that a scene that claimed to be inclusive even needed to “protect” it’s own members from one another wasn’t lost on me then or now.

Of course there’s a difference between equity and equality. Many young people involved in a subculture that’s “for equality” meant just that. It’s equality (“You’re in the pit just like the big boys so I can punch you!”) vs. equity (“everyone paid their money to see the band and you’re really short and can’t see from the back so I’ll move over to the left a little so you can see”). The few times in my show-going career that I refused to allow myself to intimidated out of getting close to the stage; usually (NOT ALWAYS) crappy things occurred. For example, I was projectile vomited on by someone who got punched in the gut during a “mosh pit” at a Strung Out show; someone literally tore my shirt off my back at a Nine Inch Nails concert, I was shoved onto the floor at a Skinny Puppy show, and an entire beer was dumped deliberately on my head by a 6’5 dude when I asked him if he could move over a little bit so I could see the stage better at an MxPx show. Those were NOT experiences that made me feel “unity” or “accepted” or a “part of a family” or “protected by my crew”. I don’t bring up these experiences to throw shade at my fellow male music-loving subculture members. They’re just to point out that in my own experience as a “non-conformist” these “anti-system” groups didn’t ever break too far away from most of the societal molds they claimed to fight against.

So I suppose in some senses these guys ARE right – the group was a “family” – and some families don’t always include everyone in a way that makes everyone feel valued and protected. Some families are dysfunctional. Although no one likes being puked on, I am grateful for these experiences and the perspective it has given me on working with groups and crowds. I try to recall those experiences when I’m creating classroom communities or committees or issuing student disciplinary consequences now. Am I hearing all of the voices? Am I creating an experience where all can hear and value one another and everyone is safe? Are there people at the back of the venue who are trying to see and participate more that I can safely draw in? Are people participating bravely and being pushed down or abused by their peers as a reward for their efforts? Am I facilitating that unsafe culture or am I working against those behaviors? What strategies can I use or implement that will protect everyone’s voice and let change occur in a meaningful way for everyone in the venue?

I wouldn’t trade my adolescent experience for the world – warts and all. I had the pleasure of meeting and interacting with a wide array of freaks, weirdos, geniuses, jerks, maniacs, musicians, artists, and scholars from a myriad of backgrounds that had a wide variety of philosophies and life experiences. I gained an encyclopedic knowledge of music, ideas, bands, books, fashions, and vernaculars. But more than that I also gained an ability to withstand both mainstream AND pretentious subcultural ribbing. I grew the kind of thick skin that has helped me throughout a career that is frequently scrutinized and criticized from within and without on a daily basis – and I defiantly enjoy it anyway. I learned to unapologetically love what I love and to be who I am regardless of what anyone thought about it. I learned to embrace parts of myself that not even those from a similar “hive” could fully appreciate. I learned to melt everything that I encountered or loved down into an amalgamation of who I would eventually become as a person and as an educator. Additionally, the thick skin I had to grow in high school and college helped me when I was in the classroom as well. There are few professions as cliquey as teaching. Teacher-on-teacher bullying is a true issue within schools. But having a strong sense of who you are and what you value – as well as the ability to buck the system and do your own thing – helps you from becoming a victim (or a perpetrator) of that and facilitates your ability to continue to do what’s best for your own classroom/students/building without giving in to external pressures/toxic systemic practices.

While back then I may have resented being called a poseur and critiqued the antiestablishment “typical asshole” attitude of my “crew” (that I was always on the outskirts of being embraced by), I learned to appreciate multiple lenses and perspectives. Now; I know who I am and what I believe in. I use that self-awareness to authentically be more than one thing (a listener, a leader, a mentor, a friend, a parent-figure, a teacher-leader, etc.) dependent on what the situation requires – while simultaneously not putting on phony airs. I know what I am NOT and try to rely on other’s strengths and expertise when I need them. At the end of the day I want to do what’s best for students (which may not be the same for each student) – sometimes regardless/in spite of what the adults/institution may prefer.

In the words of another punk rock hero; Jack Sparrow, “Take What You Can; Give Nothing Back.” Take what you can enjoy and use from the classics (whether they be John Dewey or Mozart), the rockers (whether they be Black Sabbath or Van Halen), the mainstream gods (whether they be Prince or Lady GaGa), the punks (be they the Dead Kennedys or the Smoking Popes), the goths (be they Siousxie & the Banshees or the Sisters of Mercy), the synthpoppers (be they Erasure or Squeeze), the rivetheads (be they Skinny Puppy or Einstürzende Neubauten), the hippies (be they Cat Stevens or OAR), or any combination of those and countless others. Give nothing back – remain strong and rooted in your values when faced with the peer pressure of your colleagues who want you to conform to what’s easiest. Give nothing back – don’t back down when you face resistance from a staff that is unwilling to reflect on their biases or change. Give nothing back – don’t become an inauthentic version of yourself in front of kids who may need exactly what you are. You don’t have to like everything – but you should know and enjoy as much as you can about as many things as you can. Don’t be that guy pushing people down in the pit – be the one welcoming everyone to safely participate and be included in their truest and most authentic way. When kids see that being an eclectic and eccentric nonconformist who wants to burn the system down (in an educated way without being an asshole) is both possible AND fun – they just might stop dividing themselves into pretentious cliques and work together. Or at the very least; they might learn to collaborate despite their different tastes, styles, and opinions. Maybe our world needs more multi-faceted thinkers and less closed-off overly opinionated mini-cultures (that are still as systematized and male-centered as the ones they claim to be fighting against). Be a hard ass who isn’t an asshole – a warrior who isn’t immovable; a lover and a fighter. Stay rad but without being a jagoff. Party hard but always work harder. Be that example for the quiet, smart, rivethead kid with dreams of being a saboteur and disrupter that also likes to be nice and is into learning algebra. Maybe don’t show up to work in bondage pants everyday but don’t freak out if the kids see that tattoo every once in a while. Actions speak louder than words. The biggest punk of all time wore a toga and the biggest goths of all time took down the corrupt Roman Empire. (It’s both a history AND a Goth joke geez!)

Cult of Negativity

The age of COVID-19 has (yet again) pushed teachers/schools/administrators/school districts into the limelight in a very familiar way. From March-June of 2020 all the “OMG teachers are HEROS! DOUBLE THEIR PAY!!” hysteria took flight all over the internet. For a hilarious take on this check out Key & Peele’s TeacherCenter Videos. As an educator of 20+ years, I viewed the positive press with dubious optimism. In school administration, my colleagues and I often speak about the “pendulum.” The pendulum always seems to swing too far in one direction and then a few weeks, months, presidents, etc. later – it snaps back in the other direction jarring educators and shocking the system until (like all pendulums) it settles into an equilibrium point. Here is a list of just a few examples of the pendulum “swinging too far”:

  • Standardized testing. (From “hey let’s do this a couple of times in your academic career so you can compete to get into college if you want to – to “we’re falling behind the rest of the world OMG let’s test 8 times a year, judge teachers and schools on their scores and punish those that don’t perform, to hmm we’re worried kids are tested too much and a lot of colleges aren’t even requiring these tests anymore but we’ve gotta judge the teachers and schools somehow so let’s keep it up – yes even during COVID)
  • School safety/discipline. (From open-door policies, zero-tolerance and metal detectors, to ‘metal detectors make schools feel like prison, to Restorative Practices, to no zero-tolerance, and now onto “post-covid behaviors are out of control let’s go back to super punative again”)
  • Etc., etc., etc……
A simple pendulum – mentally insert any educational policy ever invented onto the illustration.

The list goes on and on. But in general most school leaders that I know watched all of those “Teachers are Heroes” reports on the news in 2020 with trepidation – all of of us knew that it wouldn’t be long before we’d all be villainized again. I firmly believe that if COVID-19 had just suddenly disappeared in June of 2020 and we returned to school as “normal” in the fall of 2020 with the pandemic just a distant memory, the pendulum wouldn’t be swinging so wildly now. Maybe schools would even have gained a ton of respect and gratitude and would have gained legions of parental involevment and support by grateful parents fresh out of pandemic learning. But as any teacher or administrator who is currently trudging through what most of us consider to be BY FAR the hardest year that we’ve ever had, will tell you – instead it’s been a rollercoaster. To see the same parents who were screaming for us to get raises in March of 2020 now screaming at us and complaining about every decision made since returning to school in August of 2021 – just stings. Actual assaults of school board members, principals, and teachers over mask mandates, elearning options, and hybrid schedules (that were all implemented with the express goal of protecting children) are a far cry from the “PAY THEM DOUBLE THEY’RE SAINTS!” rhetoric of April 2020. Feeling that pendulum swinging has definitely been a demoralizing and often frustrating experience for all teachers and administrators. In truth, I don’t know a single educator who isn’t experiencing an unheard of level of stress, depression, anxiety, burn out, or PTSD in some form or fashion brought on by the pandemic.

During the pandemic, the concept of “toxic positivity” and it’s impact on teachers began to get a lot of attention. Examples of “toxic positivity” in schools include the overuse of the sentiment, “it’s not about us it’s about the kids,” or administration holding a “wellness day” where staff are required to participate in “self care” activities for a day but the very next day the real issues causing burn out aren’t addressed.

Toxic Positivity Vs. Optimism

And toxic positivity in schools IS certainly an issue. There’s NO denying it – but there’s also an insidious force working inside of many schools, within groups of educators in person and on social media that I refer to as the Cult of Negativity. And the most discouraging part is that many that are deeply involved in the Cult of Negativity are some of our very best teachers – who don’t even realize that they may be contributing to it. The trials and tribulations brought on by the pandemic have made this Cult of Negativity so much more prevalent and active – especially virtually.

Some people do just want to be like Skeletor!

When you move from the classroom to an administrative position in schools – a lot of your teacher friends accuse you of “turning to the Dark Side”. To be clear, being a teacher is VERY difficult. It is hard and very demanding work (both academically and emotionally). The work is stressful, and it is often incredibly thankless. But when I look back on the very worst of my teaching days – they were still a lot less overwhelming or demanding than my days as an administrator. If you take all of the difficulty, demands, stress, and the thanklessness of teaching and multiply it by about 100 times you get to the level of stress on deans and assistant principals; now if you multiply THAT amount by 100 and you get the principal’s level of stress. Then of course you multiply that some more and get to the Central Office amount of pressure. Often school leaders don’t/can’t talk about this pressure and intensity because part of our role is to support our staff – we aren’t allowed to “break” or to show weakness because it “lowers morale”. Also – if you do try to be vulnerable with your staff or teachers, the frequent (and insulting) response is the dreaded comment, “that’s why you get paid the big bucks!” So we close our office doors on tough days, scream into a pillow, eat the chocolate hidden in our bottom drawer, and slap a smile on our face and visit some classrooms. We confide in our closest colleagues and our pets because there are a lot fewer leaders than there are teachers. Our circle is much smaller and there are a lot fewer people who know what it really feels like to do the job. One of the toughest parts of the COVID-19 pandemic was the constant barrage of “support the teachers, support the students, support the parents, etc.” and there was often no one for us to go to for support. A lot of the pushback against “toxic positivity” was coming from teachers and directed at administration. As a building administrator, a lot of this criticism was directed at my team because we were the ones delivering the messages – although many of those messages were coming from Health Departments, Governors, or State Boards – nor ourselves.

One example of this occurred at one of my previous schools. Building administrators were directed to improve morale and make sure our teachers felt appreciated. Since anything that my team did for our staff of over 120 teachers basically had to come out of our own pockets – we couldn’t really spend $1000’s. So we made them a cute make-your-own caramel apple bar and told them to help themselves to some “apples for the teacher”. My team and I went classroom to classroom to relieve teachers to ensure they each got a break to make and eat their snack and socialize.

Like Mother Teresa says – the joy of giving is pure joy. But being told “Thank You” is also priceless.

The teachers (many of whom we had very positive relationships with), knew we had spent our own money and that we meant well – but they didn’t want caramel apples – they wanted extra planning time. So when I saw their hurtful Facebook posts about “Thanks for the apples but I still had to do x, y, and z”; admittedly, it stung. What they WANTED were things that were outside of our locus of control to give them. Only the district or school board or governor could give them that. So my team and I were stuck in the middle. We had been DIRECTED to do something nice for our teachers – while what the teachers WANTED wasn’t something that we were able to give them. The teachers knew how hard we had advocated for them behind closed doors and begged for things that we just couldn’t get for them. But the building leaders took the hit/blame regardless. Meanwhile, when teacher morale is low – district leaders look to building leaders for answers/blame. Despite being a big part of the job, that’s tough on building leaders’ morale. We had spent our own money to bring a little cheer into our staff’s morning – we had done what we COULD to show our support. But of a staff of 120 – a total of TWO people thanked us. (Not that we were looking for thanks). But at least 40 complained or went out of their way to mock our gesture. On top of that, upper administration also fired back with “why is your building’s morale still so low? You were told to address it.” As a building leader you are often stuck in between these two opposing forces and you take the negativity from above, below, and outside simultaneously. It begs the question: who is taking care of the building leaders? And who will lead when and if they all give up and leave?

Concern for school-level leaders’ morale is not necessarily a new problem. PRIOR to the pandemic 1 in 5 school principals was already considering leaving their position due to stress. Now, the numbers are much higher. Peter Dewitt addresses this in his Education Weekly Article from 2020. Since then, the numbers have become even more bleak.

“A recent poll by the National Association of Secondary School Principals (NASSP) and Learning Policy Institute (LPI) revealed that “42% of principals across the country said the pandemic has accelerated their plans to leave the profession.” That’s too many of our school leaders feeling as if there is nowhere to turn but away!”

https://www.edweek.org/leadership/opinion-principals-assessment-were-not-ok/2022/01

While I personally am quite happy in my current role, I know that out of all the stressors that I face on a daily basis – almost none of them are actually the children. My top 5 stressors tend to change in priority from day to day – but almost always parents and teachers are near the top of the list. To be clear, I LOVE to support teachers. I consider it one of my professional strengths to coach teachers and assist them in truly improving their instruction and making positive changes to improve their relationships with students and parents, helping them to create thriving learning communities, and addressing the learning needs of their students in proactive and effective ways. I have a good coaching relationship with almost all of the teachers that I work with. We have friendly, productive, and collegial relationships. I DEFINITELY do NOT work in a toxic environment (although I certainly have worked in toxic places in the past). Despite all of that, I definitely work with some people who engage in what I call the “Cult of Negativity” (many without even realizing that they are doing it).

I have to admit, that when I was a Social Studies Teacher at a 6th-12th grade campus there was a period of at least 2 years when I was an active member of the Cult of Negativity. I had NO idea that I was being negative or toxic at the time. In my classroom then, I was very much at the top of my game instructionally. I was experienced, I was positively impacting my students’ test scores, and I had great relationships with most of my students and their families. I participated in a wide variety of school and District Curriculum Committees, and considered myself a teacher-leader at my school. But on the flip side, my campus was instituting an iniative called “meticulous lesson planning.” (I can literally FEEL teacher-readers groaning at the name alone). Our overall schoolwide achievement data was suffering. Our average ACT score was maybe a 17. Our School Improvement Goal was to get it up to at least a 20. A professional consultant was hired to observe the school all day everyday for a month and then make recommendations based on the instructional trends that they saw. One of the items that was considered “low hanging fruit” (easy and fast to implement without a lot of training) was a cycle of meticulous lesson planning, using a research-proven template that forced teachers to address a certain continuum of student skills on a weekly basis.

Submitting lesson plans is ALWAYS a hot-button issue for teachers. Great teachers get offended because “it’s a waste of time, I already think about and do all of these things why are you making me write it down? If you want to know what’s going on in my classroom just come in and watch.” There are entire blogs, Facebook groups, and Instagram pages created by great teachers trashing the idea of submitting lesson plans. Even teachers that are struggling/aren’t as strong hate doing it because they’re already drowning just trying to keep their heads above water and would prefer to spend their time on other things. Oftentimes administrators also hate it because there aren’t enough hours in the day to observe all the classrooms and read all the lesson plans AND handle student discipline, etc. And frequently, lesson plans do result in difficult conversations between administrators and teachers (even their best teachers) due to plans not being submitted on time.

I HATED the meticulous lesson planning school improvement process. I resented having to write and turn in approximately 12-page voluminous lesson plans daily to my Department Chair. And I’m sure my Department Chair didn’t exactly love burning the midnight oil giving all of his teachers written feedback on their plans either. In retrospect, our administration definitely could’ve presented it to us so the process was more well-received and so that teachers bought into the process. (Maybe we could’ve alternated every-other-day or every-other-week to lighten the load and make it more manageable for everyone. Maybe some other initiatve could’ve been taken off of our plates in order to make it manageable.) But regardless of what wasn’t done to make the medicine go down easier, we were going to submit our meticulous lesson plan templates every day and our Department Chairs would give us feedback. I’ll be the first to admit – I’m a rule-follower. I comply. I did my lesson plans. And I HATED every second of it. I bitched and bitched a blue streak to my colleagues in the teachers’ lounge, I rolled my eyes about it in meetings and completed what I openly called an “exercise in compliance”. But I was never insubordinate. I never was outwardly disrespectful to my supervisors or administrators. But when I reflect on it now, my complaints to my colleagues about it were contributing to the Cult of Negativity.

In retrospect, even though I LOATHED every second of those meticulous plans – I have to admit they DID make me a better teacher. They forced me to preemptively put on paper possible student misconceptions. They forced me to pre-plan what questions I would ask to which students in which class periods. At the time I THOUGHT that I was mentally doing all of these things a LOT more often than I truly had been. I actually learned through doing the painful process that I called on girls twice as often as boys (despite having twice as many male students). I discovered that I was assigning more homework than I really needed to, and that I wasn’t giving students as much input into the curriculum as I thought that I was. This process pushed and challenged me in a way that I never would have done on my own without doing meticulous lesson planning. Why would I have? I thought that I was an experienced profressional who “knew what she was doing, and deserved the trust and respect of administration.” But is being “good enough” a reason not to get better? As a result of participating in what I considered a “stupid exercise in compliance”, at the end of the year my students’ test scores grew MUCH more than they had in previous years (despite the fact that I was already considered a “strong teacher” by my administrator and myself ). If I had never gone through that painful growth process, my students would’ve still learned because I was proficient – but the lesson planning process REQUIRED me to be more intentional than I had ever been. It FORCED me to attack certain parts of my planning that diagnosed issues and student needs in a much more fine-toothed manner that I had been doing previously. Once I worked at a building where lesson plan submission wasn’t required at ALL – I was still mentally going through a lot of the steps that that hated template had taught me and was doing it naturally. But I had no idea if my colleagues were being intentional or not because they weren’t even required to write anything down ever. To a certain extend the old adage is true – you can only expect what you inspect. You can’t inspect what’s not even visible.

Kindergarten Cop – always an inspiration!

Now if I had been a poor teacher to start with – this process would’ve still made me become an intentional planner – more well-prepared for the types of things that can go off the rails during a lesson and handle it in a poised manner. If I was a really bad teacher – it might’ve pushed me to become at least OK enough to make sure students didn’t backslide – to ensure that I wasn’t HARMING the kids that I was in front of everyday. The reality is that we should grow teachers and make sure they continue to improve (even the experienced ones who “know what they’re doing” aren’t perfect and can always be better). But the reality ALSO is that students only get ONE chance at First, Eighth, Eleventh, or any grade. And as school leaders – it is our RESPONSIBILITY to “do no harm”; and guarantee that teacher quality ensures that each student grows at least one year’s worth of knowledge/skill level/grade level each year that they are in front of us. And that if their teacher isn’t that intuitively strong or is struggling – it’s a leader’s job to ensure that they are ADEQUADE ENOUGH to ensure that a child’s education is still positively impacted. If you went into a hospital for a surgery to have a basic operation to remove your tonsils in a routine operation and were operated on by the intern that had already botched 3 or 4 previous surgeries – I would HOPE that their supervisor had gone through their surgical plan with them in detail before allowing them to pick up that scalpel and operate again. If something went wrong not only would the intern but ALSO their supervisors be committing malpractice. Our students are BEING OPERATED ON and are trusting our capable hands. If we have hands that we aren’t sure about in the operating room or hands that sometimes shake when they get nervous – we have to constantly supervise them, insepct their work, and make sure that those hands either become capable enough to do routine operations effectively and safely – or we need to find them a job at the hospital (or somewhere else) that is better suited to their skill set. At the end of that year of meticulous lesson planning – AS A SCHOOL – we didn’t have ANY teachers who were weak enough to have to be dismissed. Our test scores went up, school culture improved, and we met our School Improvement Goals. I’m still very proud of the progress we made as a building that year. Sadly, I’m a lot LESS proud of my own behavior that year.

At one point, my Department Chair met with me in private and told me something along the lines of, “You’re a REALLY great teacher. And even though you HATE doing it – this process is making you even better. But you acting like you don’t need this process because you’re already a good teacher, or that you hate it – that sabotages the idea that as a SCHOOL we need this. Here’s the problem with good teachers – you don’t understand that not all of your colleagues are doing what you are – that they NEED to LEARN how to teach or to improve their methods. They need to go from good to great; and great to awesome. Some of them AREN’T that “naturally” good and just need to get to adequate so they can get to good and then to great. And everyone can push themselves. Even Stallone has some weak muscles and has some exercises he HATES to do but needs to do to really be his best right? Don’t be a disgruntling factor. Part of improving as a group is being positive about things that maybe we don’t want to do. Disagree in private. Make your concerns known at the leadership meetings. But cheerlead in public.” At the time, I misunderstood his point – I felt chastised. I thought he was trying to tell me not to share my concerns or ask questions. In reality, he was trying to encourage me to use my powers for good and to help be a positive leader. Now, I’m grateful he had the conversation with me. I still FULLY encourage teachers to ask questions or raise concerns. I WANT my teachers to say “look what’s the point of this? I’m already doing this stuff or I think it’s a waste of time because…” I don’t want them to swallow their concerns, silently comply without seeing the value, and then hit the real or virtual Teacher’s Lounge and just slam the process. But I do want them to understand that everyone can grow and when every plant in the garden is thriving – the whole crop benefits.

Kindergarten Cop – Always an inspiration of how much a teacher can grow when motivated properly LOL.

The Cult of Negativity happens anywhere there are GOOD or GREAT teachers who don’t see the value in something that other teachers (maybe even themselves) may genuinely NEED to do and trash talk it and tear it down. One of the dangerous impacts of this is that 1. As a teacher you really don’t have a LOT of insight on what your colleagues are doing (unless you’re lucky enough to co-teach with them or are able to observe other teachers’ classrooms a LOT) and 2. It creates a safe space for teachers who really do need dramatic improvements to feel comfortable in mediocrity and it can breed a toxic environment. As a teacher, I rarely got the opportunity to be in my colleagues’ classrooms on a regular basis. People that I assumed were doing the same quality of work that I was doing – turns out – weren’t always. Even I was doing well but not as great as I could’ve been when I was pushing myself. When everyone takes that approach that’s how a school/classroom/district becomes average. Jimmy Casas – one of my heroes – sums this up perfectly in his book Culturize.

When I first became an administrator, teachers that I had assumed were consistently amazing based on my own experiences with them, were actually giving 11th graders word searches and using 6th grade reading materials in their high school classrooms. Maybe not everyday – but often enough to be questionable. With only 180 measely days of instruction in a school year (which is really closer to 150 when you subtract state testing, special events, field trips, etc) time is just too precious to waste. All of a sudden I was wondering “wait a minute – if they were doing meticulous lesson planning and getting constant feedback on the impact of their daily activities this probably wouldn’t be happening. They wouldn’t just have some great days they’d be consistently great. The impacts on students would be greater.” I got the opportunity to observe teachers that I had openly complained to about the worthlessness of lesson planning teach without having a plan – or poor plans. I had blindly and loudly put my complaints out there without thinking about the value to people who needed the improvement WAY more than I did (while admittedly I needed it too). These people were impacting the education of 150 students. REAL students who had to grow academically and whose REAL lives depended on the education that their teachers were providing them (or NOT providing to them). Students who don’t get a do-over the way that a teacher can learn from a school year that wasn’t their best.

One typical sticky point for teachers (and coincidentally for middle school students) is that often directives are given to ALL teachers when only SOME teachers truly need them. And that’s 1000% true. Eventually, once I had been observed a bunch of times, and had really reflected and improved on my meticulous lesson plans and classroom practices, I was gradually asked to do less and less of the template and focus only on a couple of targeted parts of my plans – personalized to my own specific areas of growth. Unbeknownst to me, other teachers needed a lot more work to start with than I did. So the plans were rolled out like any MTSS process. Once 80% of teachers had made gains, they needed to do less voluminous plans and focused on only their personal areas of growth, the other 20% of teachers needed more detailed or alternative plans. But you don’t know who those people are and how to focus on them UNTIL you can do a needs assessment of your whole staff. Additionally, union contracts often DO take an all-or-nothing approach. Many contracts don’t LET administrators have those coveted “separate procedures” for certain teachers based upon “perceived” abilities. So you either have everyone do ALL parts of the plans – or have no one do any. And that hardly will move your building in the right direction. It will keep it standing still. At the time, the teacher’s contract that I was functioning under didn’t ALLOW administration to have different expectations for different teachers UNLESS a teacher was already close to dismissal. Why wait until someone has basically already failed before improving their practice? So unfortunately, while many great teachers would be fighting hard against the lesson plans because they viewed it as a waste of time, they’d ALSO be saying “just fire the teachers who aren’t good” – but how can you determine who those teachers are (or have the required documentation to do so) unless you have different and targeted expectations for growth for those that are struggling? Things that you often aren’t allowed to have because the legal contract states everyone must be evaluated in the exact same manner? As an administrator, it can definitely make your head spin and your vision blurry.

Which way is up?

Social media adds a whole new layer to the Cult of Negativity. It offers teachers great ways to connect, share awesome ideas and projects, provide support and encouragement to each other, it can function as a virtual PLC, and a place to laugh about the daily or weekly stresses or issues together in solidarity. But also, social media has allowed the Cult of Negativity to spread beyond the teacher’s lounges of individual buildings and become worldwide. Sadly, when I see Cult of Negativity posts slamming school initiatives, building administrators, and schools in general I often feel like GOOD and even GREAT teachers – through well-intentioned (and often-times called-for) venting are actually creating a safe-space for some of those problematic adults in our schools to gain legitimacy and feel like nothing they are asked to do is worthwhile. Jane Morris, a teacher and the author of Teacher Misery and moderator of Teacher Misery on Instagram is one of my favorite teacher communities to go to when I’ve had a tough day and just want a chuckle. I bought her first book immediately after it came out and laughed out loud many times while reading it. I lent it to several teacher friends of mine and we had a good laugh. I’m glad Jane creates a space for teachers to vent and share their frustrations.

I don’t know Jane, and I have never seen her teach. But the voice she speaks from leads me to believe she’s an expert at her content and that she is probably a really great teacher. However, I do not believe for an instant that all of the content on her Instagram page is helpful. There are whole strings of posts slamming initiatives, administrators, etc. And a lot of those intial posts are probably WELL-EARNED and examples of poor leadership or poor decisions. But my concern isn’t even with those things – I have a thick skin and can certainly admit when leaders make garbage choices or put teachers through the wringer. Hell, I’m usually shaking my head and laughing right along with the audience. By all means when things are ridiculous – please do poke fun at it and point it out, etc. My concern is with all of the COMMENTS and followers that put GREAT teachers in a position where they are unintentionally contributing to the Cult of Negativity. Sometimes when I dig deep down into the comments and see some of the negativity I can see through the venting to problematic behaviors. All of the GOOD or GREAT teachers who are taking what they see at face value, assuming that whomever is posting that something is “ridiculous” is a teacher of their own high caliber or doesn’t actually need that “silly” task being posted about in order to grow; contribute to the creation of a safe space for mediocrity or excusing a lack of a desire to grow. As a teacher, one of the things we always teach students to do is to be a critical reader. To understand that each author has their own motivation and interpretation of events. I often wonder if Jane reaches out to the people who send her things to post to find out the full story – or if it would even matter.

Somewhere between the multiple perspectives is the truth.

A former administrator of mine mentioned once to me that it’s easy to slam district and school administrators because teachers (through HR laws and union contracts), and students (through confidentiality laws) get to share their version of events and are protected in doing so. Due to legal reasons, buildings and districts often can’t “set the record straight”. They can’t come out and say “well the teacher in question got written up”, or “the student lied and here’s what actually happened..” Oftentimes, it actually IS a district supporting the teacher by NOT setting the “record straight”. It’s easier to take the brunt of the negative Facebook comments wondering “what is that principal thinking?” than it is to take the toxic blowback from pubicly throwing one of your teachers and/or their mistake under the bus. Oftentimes taking the hit as an adminsitrator is HOW you support your teachers. Teachers often claim that they want their administrators to support them – but don’t always get to SEE the invisible ways that they do that – by shielding teachers from lawsuits by requiring documentation, by shielding teachers from the brunt of a parent’s anger by taking it ourself, by doing what we need to do to keep the school community calm so that you can do what you need to do in your classroom. The leader of the building lugs around the heavy shield/umbrella so that the rain doesn’t get you wet. But they don’t/can’t change the rain into sunshine.

“Why can’t they just make it brighter in here???”

I believe schools are a complex community with a lot of stakeholders. I love teachers, students, parents, and yes even (these days especially) school administrators. When an event occurs – be it a student getting a detention, teachers having to submit lesson plans, a student being brought back to class after a disciplinary infraction, or a new Math curriculum – everyone involved in that situation has their own lens and perception on what occurred. And unfortunately, teachers don’t/won’t always have the whole story. Teachers will be the first ones to tell you they want more information and the “full story” or to be communicated with openly. But due to Human Resource laws, student and parent and medical privacy laws, and just plain discretion – sometimes not every stakeholder GETS TO have all the information that they really desire. In order to become a teacher – you have to have mastery and knowledge of your content, teaching and learning pedagogy, etc. Once you pass your exams, fulfill the requirements, and get your degree you can apply for your teacher certification and are charged with teaching your students. But, unfortunately, teacher training programs (at least in my state) do NOT include school law courses, or state or local school board governance policies, or human resources training. I didn’t have that training or knowledge when I was in the classroom; and once I got it in my Leadership Program I sort of looked back on a lot of my past complaints and cringed a little (or a lot). Honestly, I think a lot of teacher-negativity wouldn’t happen at all if teachers knew/realized what was legal and what wasn’t. For example, when I was at the High School level – many teachers lamented that cell phones shouldn’t be allowed in the school at all and were always asking us what consequences we could give the students. Currently, in my state, it’s actually against the law to prevent a student from bringing a phone into the school. Once teachers knew what we COULD and COULD NOT consequence students for – we worked collaboratively on a student cell phone policy that made sense for our building. If all teachers had some sort of school law background (even a minimal one), a lot of grumbling could turn into collaborative problem-solving rather than an “us vs. them” grudge match between administration (who admittedly often forget that teachers don’t know these things), and school staff.

For 20 years, at every school where I have ever worked – teachers have ALWAYS stated that they want to know what consequences students will receive. “If a kid does X their consequence will be Y.” In my state, schools aren’t legally ALLOWED to have set Act A = Consequence B – systems like that. It’s literally against the law. Teachers still ask me every single day “If they do X will their consequence be Y?” In response I say, “well once a teacher gives me a disciplinary referral there are a range of consequences that I can issue based upon the individual situation. The range can go anywhere from nothing to a phone call home, a parent meeting, a detention, a restoration, lunch detention, service learning project, apology, in or out of school suspension, or other.” That is often frustrating to teachers – who have a strong desire for “fairness” and “justice”. I was frustrated by my own administrators because of this when I was in the classroom. But the reality is that once you have asked someone else to discipline the child for something – that is the range of options that they have to choose from – and that may vary from what you, the teacher would prefer. The outcome may vary from student to student or from incident to incident. It may not be “equal” from one student to the next. However – equality is giving everyone the same thing – equity is giving everyone what they need.

I have had success in discussing this with teachers when I frame it as an employer/employee scenario. I ask my teachers, “if you were late everyday for 2 weeks what consequence should I issue you as your employer?” They usually say something along the lines of a write up or a warning. When I ask them, “Ok but your husband just got released from the hospital, your mom died last week, and your car broke down and you’ve never been late before this in 10 years. Your colleague across the hall has been late everyday for 2 weeks because they stopped for coffee. Should you receive the same consequence? The union contract says you should. Both of you are adults who should know to be on time to work daily. But each of you would bring your union rep to the meeting to plead your case. At those meetings, a fair consequence would be decided for each of you that might not be the same and the results would be private between me, you, HR, and your union rep. It wouldn’t be broadcast to your colleagues. Two students who do something in the classroom get sent to my office – they aren’t adults who have been taught to do x, y, or z yet – they don’t have a union rep, and they do still have a right to privacy, and legal rights as well. Why would we give more leniency and grace to adults (who arguably have been taught and already know better) than we give to children who also have rights (but not union reps)?

I once was complained about to my superintendant by a teacher for “not issuing a consequence” when he wrote a disciplinary referral for 2 students that were throwing snowballs at one another as they arrived at school in the morning. The teacher felt that my making the students write 3 apology letters (one to the bus driver for causing unsafe conditions, one to the principal for disrupting the parking lot, and one to their parent(s) for representing their families in a negative light) wasn’t a consequence. When I told him that learning how to admit to one’s indiscretions, apologize in a mature and respectful manner, and move on to not make that mistake again IS a consequence and a life skill that one isn’t just born with – the teacher became irate. He yelled at me (in my face), that they had to be “made examples of” so that the other kids “didn’t think they could get away with throwing snowballs”. When I told him that they weren’t “getting away with it”, he told me that I was creating an unsafe school environment by “allowing kids to think apologizing is enough to rectify the situation.” Sidenote: Being raised at Catholic school – I’m fairly certain that even the church states that God forgives you (even if you’re a serial killer) if you’re apologetic and repentant for your sins.

When I brought the students to the teacher to apologize to him – he refused to accept their apology. (A process that it had taken me 1.5 hours of meeting with them, calling their parents, and writing and rewriting with them). I had gotten them into a mature emotional place where they realized they were wrong and were ready to apologize. Instead the teacher rolled his eyes and acted like they got off easy. It would’ve been easy for me to give them a detention and call it a day. (In fact – one of them begged me for the detention instead of having to apologize). But would that have changed their mindset or their behavior? Instead the students that had made all this growth – got the impression (from the ADULT), that all the time and effort and emotional lifting it had taken them to get ready to apologize was wasted.

Later, when I met with the teacher he became irate – he stated, “I’m not accepting that apology it’s not a consequence!” I told him, “As adults it’s our job to model to students how to be gracious. Do you think they’ll have a positive relationship with you now that you’ve sent them the message that only punitive punishment would’ve been effective?” He told me, “I wrote them a REFERRAL! I could’ve just given them a detention myself – but I wrote a referral because I wanted them to get a REAL CONSEQUENCE and be an EXAMPLE for the other kids.” I responded, “Yes, you could’ve just given them a detention (which is in fact a consequence), but instead you gave the decision-making authority to me when you wrote the referral – which I’m then able to choose the consequence for. I apologize that you disagree with my decision, but it’s my job to address negative behaviors in a fair and equitable way on an individual basis and not to “make examples” out of students. For example, if HR wrote you up for screaming at me in an unprofessional manner about this detention – I wouldn’t make it public to the other teachers that I had written you up so as to “make an example of you” so that none of them yell at me in the future. In fact, I’m fairly certain that you’d call your union rep if I treated you that way. It’s my job to be the students’ union rep.” I bring that story up because many of the teacher-venting sites out there have comments that only tell one side of the story. And sadly, not all teachers know what consequences or actions are LEGAL or not for administrators to give. As a result, there’s this Cult of Negativity where behaviors like the teacher that I mentioned are inadvertantly supported. If that teacher with the snowballs had posted on the Teacher Misery instagram, “Kids threw snowballs! Admin DID NOTHING!” it would have generated like 5000 supportive comments. Sadly that wasn’t the truth and created a space for this particular teacher, (who I don’t really think is what’s best for kids), to feel like his own actions (which were never addressed or mentioned in the post) were totally fine. Like all social media – negative teacher venting/student/teacher/admin bashing can shroud the truth in someone’s personal perspective. It’s important to remember that there are always multiple sides to every story and multiple perceptions.

The reason school administrators often get a bad rap and take the brunt of this – is because we follow confidentiality laws that don’t ALLOW us to put the facts of the case out there. So all anyone has to go on is a teacher’s word or a student’s word. It’s a heavy lift and it can be a little frustrating or demoralizing sometimes – but the reality is that I will NEVER stop making kids apologizing for what they did wrong. Apologizing isn’t easy. It isn’t a skill that someone is just born with. But it’s something we all need to know how to do effectively if we want to be productive members of society. Now I also believe that there are school laws whose ramifications can lead to frustration within school communities. I do believe that students should have due process and that schools shouldn’t be suspenion-factories that feed the school to prison pipleline. But I also believe that a lof the pendulums have swung too far and that that has made it seem to many teachers as if students with serious disciplinary issues aren’t receiving consequences – at least not the punitive ones that some people feel are warranted. However – I would encourage teachers who feel this way to get engaged in the work of changing school policy. Chances are your district and building leadership aren’t acting unilaterally. Schools have legal counsel who guide their decision-making process. If the problem IS the law, lobby, petition, join a committee, and work on the real issue. I didn’t truly learn about what it really took to create or change a state educational policy until I did a Teaching Policy Fellowship. It completely changed my perspective on who actually makes educational decisions and what exactly is entailed in the process. Some great places to start are with organizations like Teach Plus, The New Teacher Project, and TCTA (for you Texans out there), and a wide variety of others that can be found with a quick google search.

The internet is rife with stories of school administrators bullying, harassing, or bothering teachers. I do NOT discount any of those stories and often use them as an example of what NOT to do and how NOT to treat my team. As a teacher, I was bullied by an assistant principal and it was NOT fun. So while administrators bullying teachers IS a serious problem – bullying is sadly rife at all levels of school communities. You’d think that with all of the teacher groups out there on Social Media where teachers support one another, that teachers within buildings would be doing so. Unfortunately, teacher-on-teacher bullying is a massive contributor to the Cult of Negativity. Anecdotally, I myself have seen the following things happen to teachers (perpetrated by their peers):

  • A teacher would run copies at the copy machine then run back to her classroom to get something and another teacher would unplug the copy machine so that the teacher’s copies stored in the memory never ran.
  • A teacher who disliked her special education co-teacher would bully her by locking her out of her own classroom so that she couldn’t access the room until the other teacher decided she could.
  • At a school where there were no substitutes: teachers posted the class periods that they needed each other to cover them for on a “Sub bulletin board”. One teacher had her postings consistently torn off and thrown away so she never had coverage.
  • Teacher being purposely given the wrong time for a meeting so she’d be late and embarassed.
  • Numerous experiences where a teacher would “tattle” on a teacher (using a fictitious claim) to an adminstrator, parent, etc. leading to complaints being filed against a teacher who had done nothing wrong.
  • I saw a new teacher at the beginning of her career bullied out of her entire profession by her peers on her own team ganging up on her and creating a toxic and purposely stressful work environment for her.
  • A teacher who was bullied by her peers for being Muslim.
  • A teacher who was bullied because she took the High Holy Jewish Holidays off and needed coverage by her peers.

These are just the ones that I thought of in 5 minutes. In my 20-year career there have been many more examples and those aren’t even including the things that have happened to me. This letter to teacher bullies written by a teacher expresses some of the many things that teacher-bullies do to other teachers to create unhealthy work environments. Unfortunately, hard and fast numbers are hard to come by because many teachers just won’t tell their administrators that these things are happening until after they’ve found another job and prefer to just leave than make a complaint to HR. Additionally, it’s often difficult for administrators to prove these things without creating an “us vs. them” culture of close supervision or even micromanagement (also a school culture killer). This hasn’t even scratched the surface of parents bullying school boards (anyone watching the news during COVID have seen this happening), parents bullying school administrators and threatening constant and frivilous lawsuits, teachers bullying administrators (yes this really does happen), and teachers bullying students and vice versa.

I would encourage all of the really good educators out there not to get swept up into toxic waves of the Cult of Negativity. Realize that there are always multiple sides to the story. The teachers’, the parents’, the students’, the witnesses’, the administrators’, the laws’, and a combiniation of all of them create the full story. Always challenge decisions or directives that you don’t understand – but do it in a way that doesn’t devalue the growth of yourself or your building. In public – cheerlead all of the great things that your school is doing and celebrate all the wins – no matter how small. Understand the why behind a directive and try to find the value in it for the building as a whole – even if you don’t think it’s something that you personally “need” to do. If everyone in your family has high cholesterol and goes vegetarian – but you don’t “HAVE” to – that doesn’t mean you won’t see benefits from it. Your family will live longer, and maybe you’ll lose 5 lbs. or have enough energy to run that 5k you’ve always wanted to do. We owe it to our students to give them 180 days of the highest-quality education that we can give them – not just the okay-est education that we can get away with because we aren’t being forced to grow. We owe it to each other as educators to push each other and bring out the best in each other. Not to grumble endlessly and be ok with mediocre. There’s a LOT of talk about how adminsitrators need to support teachers – but the reality is that we ALL need to support one another. The best teachers support each other, they support their building administrators, their students, and their students’ parents in the pursuit of excellence – and vice versa – as a supportive village. The best school communities want their students, families, teachers, and adminsitrators to all succeed and be happy. So by all means – raise concerns, demand excellence, but in the words of one of my personal mentors, Jeff Zoul, “Work Hard…Have Fun…Be Nice…Today!” Our school communities and the mental health of all of their stake holders depend on it. There is simply too much hard work to be done and progress to be made for our energy to be spent tearing one another down – there are already enough forces trying to do that.

Scorched Earth? Or Salted Earth?

Fire has long been a powerful symbol. Used in stories, poems, songs, fables, myths, art, and all manner of human expression – fire appears in an endless number of ways. Sometimes fire is depicted as a destructive force of nature; or as a method of cleansing/purifying; or as a terrorizing weapon of war (ala the Third Punic War); or as a life-giving fuel for innovation/civilization; or any combination thereof. Some anthropologists, namely Richard Wrangham of Harvard have argued that human beings actually BECAME human by mastering the use of fire – that early hominids only made the jump to humanity through taming fire. While this theory is still hotly (pun intended) debated – it certainly shines a light on one of the most pivotal and complex relationships that human beings have – with the pure energetic and unpredictable element of fire. We certainly benefit from it – but it can also really mess us up!

For myself, fire has been an unspoken theme in one way or another throughout my life. At times it has been horrible and terrifying, and others it has served as a purifying blaze that made my pathway forward possible. As a child, my dad was an insurance claims adjustor. As a result, I often heard risk analysis as if it were scientific fact. We weren’t allowed to put our arms out of open car windows just in case a semi truck drove past to whack it off (your dominant arm is only worth about 200K if you have a great policy – see below for why I know that tidbit); fireworks that flew into the air weren’t allowed on our 4th of July celebration because they might land on someone’s roof and engulf it in flames, etc. etc. So I always had a healthy appreciation for what was dangerous and what activities should be avoided. Fire was obviously included in the list (along with crazed amputation-hungry semi trucks). However, we had a fireplace and were taught early on that although it could be a dangerous element; when controlled fire was useful and safe when treated the right way.

The block that I grew up on had a lot of storm-related power outages when I was young. Candlelight was a staple in being able to clean up the flooding basement, hook up the generator to the sump pump or the refrigerator, or just to be able to see while we waited the hours/days for ComEd to restore our power. To this day, I have an abundant hoard of Bath & Body Works candles on hand. My “closet of shame” has an entire shelf of candles that are my “candle backups” that sit waiting for their opportunity to be needed. The closet only contains extras as each room already has it’s own supply in current use and “on deck candles”.

This is less than half of the ones in the house – these are the backups to the backups in each room.

In reality my life experiences have included a wide variety of both literal and metaphorical flames; but none as physically dangerous as the one I experienced in college. When I was an undergraduate at the University of Illinois, I rented a house off-campus with several friends. On February 3, 2001, a stupid argument/incident caused a rift within our house. As a result, the most important friendships that I had had in my life up to that point fractured. Two of the roommates moved out suddenly and another went home for the semester to heal from the situation. Left in the house were just myself and my roommate Justin. We started to look for an additional roommate to help pay the rent (mid-semester when very few people are looking to move). It was a crushing blow to me. My entire life I had struggled to have long-term meaningful friendships. I had always felt like I was a “side friend” in most of the groups that I had been a part of. I had several close friends in high school but even those friendships would wax and wane throughout the years. The group that I had met my freshman year of college had finally felt like they would be my “crew for life”, the “long term friends” that I had always craved. The break up of our little house was defeating to me. I went into a pretty deep depression. The boyfriend that I was madly in love with at the time was living 6 hours away in Cincinnati and couldn’t be with me more than once every 4-6 weeks; all but one of my friends had left; and my close friend and dorm-roommate from the previous 2 years was studying abroad in France for the year. I thought that the first two weeks of February was the loneliest that I’d even been. Until Valentine’s Day that year. Around midnight on February 14th 2001, the shitty early-1900’s house we were renting caught on fire while Justin and I were getting ready for bed.

Being in a fire is NOTHING like what you see in TV or in the movies. It’s not this loud siren-level smoke alarm that you immediately recognize as trouble. You don’t calmly run to the phone and call the fire department and grab the family photos and the pets and briskly walk out the door as the fireman simultaneously pull into the driveway and put the fire out in less than 5 minutes. At least that was not what my experience was. I was washing my face and brushing my teeth in the bathroom getting ready for bed around midnight on a Sunday night. With the bathroom door closed, I heard the faint beeping of the smoke alarm but it sounded very far away and I thought it was a part of the music that Justin was listening to downstairs. (During a real fire the smoke alarm sounds WAY more quiet than it sounds when it’s going off due to low battery at 3 am in your silent house) So I finished up what I was doing and opened the bathroom door to see smoke billowing towards me from my bedroom at the end of the hall. I ran TOWARDS the fire to see what was going on and saw the room engulfed. I yelled downstairs to Justin and he brought up the fire extinguisher. We quickly emptied that extinguisher plus the additional one from the kitchen. I remember being overtaken by adrenaline while we fought the fire with a couple of buckets of water and both fire extinguishers before it got pitch black and impossible to breathe.

Eventually, we went downstairs, grabbed the crappy 90’s portable phone, called 911 and stood outside in the snow barefoot for what felt like forever. We tried going back in a couple of times with some stupid attempts at putting water on the fire to slow it down, but the last time had to be taken out by the firemen. I got carried out by a stereotypically “cute young fireman” (who barely looked older than myself), and stood out there in the snow crying like an idiot. At the time, I was blind as a bat (pre-LASIK) and couldn’t even see what was happening as I had left my glasses in the bathroom. I begged the firemen to try to go and find them and somehow they did. The frames were a little damaged but I was at least able to clearly see my life literally going up in smoke. Sidenote – there was no cute dog in a coat and a hat to comfort me. Another let down of the in-reality fire experience…..

I have vague memories of the college emergency dean coming to the house and giving us letters excusing us from class to give to our professors. I remember calling my boyfriend in Cincinnati frantically and him making the 6 hour drive in 4.5 to come and be with me and help me. I remember my parents coming down to help and taking me to Target to get an outfit since all I had were the pajamas I had been wearing. But the thing that I remember the most was after the whirlwind of the first few days feeling extremely alone. Maybe for the first time in my entire life I felt truly alone. My boyfriend had gone back to Cincinnati, Justin was staying with friends, and I was at a hotel off-campus until I ran out of money. I was on a waiting list for an emergency dorm room but definitely spent some very cold February nights in my car in a parking garage. The friends that I’d recently lost didn’t even know about the fire until they read about it in the Daily Illini. At first, I felt like the fire had destroyed my entire reality. But slowly and methodically I started using the experience as fuel. I credit that ordeal with beginning my lifelong and deep-seeded desire to survive in spite of adversity. I trudged forward then and I have trudged forward in the face of all forms of adversity since. At the end of that tumultuous semester I ended up with straight A’s for the first time in my academic career. And I did it totally on my own. Despite the challenges, I had slogged through the worst experience of my life (to that point) successfully. Now that decades of distance and time have passed – I feel like that was one of the first opportunities that I had in my life to stand on my own two feet. While at the time I thought that the fire had destroyed my life – it had actually cleared the way for me the way a brush fire clears the land for new crops.

Soot and ash enrich the soil for farmers. It’s why seasonal crop/brush fires are used to clear the land – to purge the toxins and renew the earth for new growth. At the time I didn’t realize that the fire was clearing the way for me to be truly independent, but in retrospect it was. I have had other metaphorical “fires” in my life since. Some set by myself and my own decisions, and some set by others that tore through my life in either productive or destructive ways – sometimes both.

Controlled burn being used on a golf course.

Fires have different reasons for igniting. Sometimes they are difficult to build and don’t want to stay lit – the wood is wet or the wind is blowing in the wrong direction and it seems like all of the kindling and all of the stoking in the world just won’t keep the flames going. Sometimes lightning or a spark hits dry brush and an inferno is raging immediately. Sometimes coals heat up slow and hot and keep a fire at a low grade simmer for what seems like forever. The major metaphorical fires that have burned their way through my life have all had different starts. My house burning down in college was definitely a lightning strike. It was unexpected, scary, tumultuous, and turned my life (which already was at a low point that month) upside down. But in the long run – it forced me into changes that I wouldn’t otherwise have made. It also gave me the skills to empathize with students that I’ve taught over the years. I know how to survive living in a car if I have to. I know how to make $250 (mind you this was 2001 dollars) last for half a semester. I learned how to live with LESS and learn the difference between a want and a need in a very real, very quick way.

If you’ve never been in a fire or a flood – the way that the whole recovery/insurance process works is that a company comes and empties the accident site of all of your belongings. The people that did my fire recovery was ServePro. I can’t say enough about how amazing these individuals were to me. I was living in Urbana and they were based out of Rantoul. So I would go to class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until about 3 PM; then schlep over to the ServPro warehouse in Rantoul and sort my items one by one until they closed at 6:30. (This process took weeks – and it was only the stuff that I had with me at college not everything that I’d ever owned!) You put all of your worldly possessions into 3 piles: Trash (can’t be repaired), Clean (maybe it’s salvageable and maybe it isn’t but you wont be able to tell until it’s cleaned), and Salvage (clean and keep). It’s not until you go through every piece of paper, sock, pair of underwear, clothes hanger, and random bric-a-brac that you own that you realize how much you really HAVE – and how pointless most of it is.

Even now, more than 20 years later I can’t stand being in a space that’s overly cluttered. It makes me feel tense and like the walls are closing in on me. I can’t stand being surrounded by junk. I purge things often and crave open space. A major issue within my relationship with my ex-husband before we got married was his “hoard”. He “collected” (in the language of males the word “collection” really means “hoard”) DC comics stuff, Batman stuff, Catwoman stuff, HeMan, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and comics – SO MANY HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS OF COMICS!! We had 2, 2-bedroom apartments during the entirety of our 10+ year relationship and I barely entered his “room” because it was wall to wall JUNK. Even the closet was stacked from floor to ceiling with boxes and boxes of STUFF. Totally unusable storage space. The sight of it gave me miniature anxiety attacks. Below is a picture of a fraction of his hoard AFTER more than half of it had been sold. Each shelf was at least 15 items deep and this is less than 1/3 of what he had – just wall to wall PLASTIC that held very little actual meaning. I hated to look at it but tolerated it because he loved it and I loved him. But I felt an internal cleansing when I sold it all when we separated. It was like I could breathe in my own space again; like an anchor had been lifted off of my chest. I could finally SEE the walls and the floor and move more than one or two steps without hitting a “collectible” aka JUNK.

Recently I started working at a new school. The office that I moved into had it’s own hoard of files, papers, random items, etc. that I have been slowly working my way toward cleaning. Unlike the office I had at my previous school, there is at least a window to the hallway so that I can see out in addition to having space to move and work. As I purge all of my predecessor’s unneeded things from the closet and shelves I feel like I am clearing the “brush” with a controlled burn and am enriching the soil on my new path. Open and clean space calms me more than I ever realized before losing everything in a fire and starting over.

Not every metaphorical fire in my life was sudden like a lightning strike, nor purposeful and cleansing like moving into a new office. The fire that would eventually blow up my marriage was more like the coals of a charcoal grill. Slowly burning things below the surface without me even noticing the heat until a couple of events blasted lighter fluid onto it and things quickly got out of control. Now that I’m through the other side of it all and have had time to live and reflect and heal – I can see that the way things went down actually reset my life and made room for me to build my future – but at the time all I felt was the scorching heat of the flames and was choking from the fallout/smoke.

My relationship with my ex-husband was nothing if not unique. We “met” in the Q101 chat room on AOL in 1994. The first thing that Morbidgal and DeadRabies ever talked about was music. 14 year-old him private messaged 14 year-old me because I was the first person that he’d ever heard of who liked both Type O Negative and Screeching Weasel. Our first conversation was about how Bark Like a Dog was the greatest Pop Punk album to ever come out (definitely still in the Top Ten). I was from the South Suburbs and he was from the Northwest Suburbs – in the time of dial up internet, pre-driving, and long-distance phone bills we may as well have lived on opposite sides of the planet. Both of us got in trouble for the astronomical bills we ran up with our dial-up internet and phone conversations. The entire time we were in high school, he was always referring to a mysterious “Master Plan” for his life. He never went into detail but always implied that it was “something big”. When his band(s), Break of Day and The Prospects played at the Fireside Bowl in 1997, I skipped school to get to the city and be able to meet him in person. Like a loser, I was too scared to talk to him and watched the show and left. 20 years later he still didn’t believe that I was there. We wouldn’t actually meet in person for another 5 years in 2002.

In September of 1998, when I was a freshman at U of I, he called me asking for my college address. In October, I got a letter from him explaining that his “Master Plan” was finally coming to fruition. He was moving to California and wanted me to run away with him. While it seemed horribly romantic – at the time, I didn’t even know him in person. I also didn’t realize then that I was smart (my high school was INCREDIBLY hard – harder than either of my graduate degrees); so I didn’t even think getting accepted into any other colleges or transferring would be possible. (Side note: I also didn’t know University of Illinois was a good school – I thought it was super subpar and just an average state school that was really easy to get into) So, I called his mom’s house to try to find out the details about when he was leaving so that I could at least meet him in person and say goodbye before he left – and maybe see if I could figure out a way to join him the next semester. But by the time I called his mom’s house he was already gone. I assumed he would be out of my life forever and moved on. I met who I thought was going to be the love of my life and had a 5+ year relationship with him. He and I broke up right after Christmas of 2002.

2002 was my first year of teaching in my own classroom. AOL was dying it’s slow death, and was becoming an unnecessary expense. My dad told me to save all of my stuff so he could delete all the accounts and stop paying for it. I sat in Room #105 on my desktop during my planning period, logged in and started to delete all my emails, write down important email addresses, and save some files. And there it was – an email from DeadRabies – like a lightning strike. “I have no idea if you still use this address. I don’t know if your phone number is the same. I’m back in Illinois. My band is playing a show close to where you used to live on Thursday – please come.” I had recently broken up with the man I thought I was going to marry and had no plans – so I went. And thus began our non-virtual relationship. We dated on and off for a few years before we eventually moved in together in 2010. Between 2002 and 2010 we were on-again, off-again. He was a punk musician – he sewed plenty of wild oats. But when we decided to move in together he had settled down, become a health nut, stopped drinking, and was functionally employed. Things were good. But in reality the coals had already started to ignite and I didn’t notice. We knew each other for 20+ years in some form or another. We lived together for 10 years before getting married. And things ended in a few gigantic “flashbombs” that were actually just squirts of lighter fluid on the hot coals that had been smoldering for years right underneath me.

Fast forward to our wedding in March of 2019. We had gotten engaged in July of 2018 on the roof of the St. James Hotel in San Diego. It made sense to me that he’d want to propose in the place he’d once asked me to run away with him to. He even mentioned the Master Plan while we were there on the roof. We went to multiple punk bars and got free shots for getting engaged. We got tattoos from Pappy McCall at Tahiti Felix’s. Life was good. Sorta.

Unbeknownst to me, the briquettes were slowly getting hotter. We moved forward and planned the wedding. We chose a venue, decided on a menu, made a guest list. The one decision that we agonized over the most was the music. We eventually chose a fantastic DJ (Chris Brower – just hire him!) because music was a major part of our relationship and we needed a person who GOT us (I love that we’re still on his Instagram and that to HIM our story was only ever joyful).

Then in December of 2018 a blast of lighter fluid hit. My mom was hit head on by a texting teenager. She broke her neck in a “hangman’s fracture”. She’s damn lucky she wasn’t killed or paralyzed. But that by no means meant things were easy. She was in a HORRIBLE brace. She couldn’t lay down and had to sleep in this brace that could’ve also doubled as a Medieval Torture Device. She needed all sorts of help. She couldn’t bathe herself, eat easily, sleep, etc. She was deeply depressed and it was hard on us all. At her lowest point, when she was in the hospital, she cried and asked if we could move the March wedding back. She felt sad she wouldn’t be able to help me do anything to really prepare for it. She’d looked forward to the experience of planning my wedding for a long time and it nearly killed her that she couldn’t help the way that she wanted to. She was worried she couldn’t look nice and wouldn’t be out of the brace in time. That was a pretty dark and depressing Christmas for my family. My mom, the Queen of Christmas Spirit didn’t get to spend Christmas making a spectacular and fancy meal or decorating happily – instead she spent the holidays as you see her below. The entire guest list of my wedding in March of 2019 was thrilled to see her braceless and nearly unassisted and looking great as she defiantly walked down the aisle at my wedding. She was like a mighty warrior phoenix that day and I was ecstatic to be able to share the attention with her alive and upright.

Before: Mom’s Christmas Spirit 2018

After: Mom Kicking Ass March 2019.

One burst of lighter fluid down – several more to go. Two months after our wedding; my ex-husband was hit by a pickup truck as a pedestrian. I got a call at about 4 am from a hospital that there had been an accident but it was the weekend and their hospital didn’t have an emergency surgeon on call. They stated that he was “not critically wounded but will need a surgical procedure” and they even put him on the phone briefly with me before he was transported. We only had about a 5-second conversation where I asked him “What happened? Oh my god are you ok?” and he said “Please don’t freak out or I’ll freak out. Just come. They’re making me hang up the ambulance is here.” Since he had spoken to me and they made it seem like he just needed some sort of minor surgery – I quickly got dressed and flew to the University of Chicago and arrived around 5 am without calling anyone. Around 5:45 they pulled me into a private room and explained that his arm had almost been amputated and he was in surgery (and that amputation wasn’t off the table yet). They started talking to me about prosthetics and all sorts of other scary things. Cue the lighter fluid because I thought he just needed some extensive stitches or staples when I’d arrived and was shocked and alone. I hadn’t even been married two months and I was being told I might have to be choosing prosthetics for my husband (I wasn’t even used to calling him my husband yet). They rushed me upstairs to the emergency surgery waiting area. The surgeon came out of the operating suite and told me I had no time to deeply think or deliberate and that he needed an answer in 2 minutes. He told me he could guarantee that he could save my husband’s life easily and amputate right now, or try to save the arm and make no guarantees either way. He was a gifted guitar-player and it was his dominant arm (later I’d find out those are only worth about $200k). So I told him to try to save it. A miracle happened and the doctor saved both the arm and hand; nor did it die in the next critical 72 hours. He had movement but a gruesome and long road ahead of him.

Obviously after a traumatic injury like that you’re going to be in the hospital for quite some time. After his 4th or 5th surgery on May 31st (ironically the day that our wedding pictures were delivered in the mail and waiting for me on the porch when I got home); I got to meet his mistress. She came to surprise him at the hospital. Turns out he’d been living a double-life and had been with her for 3 years BEFORE we got engaged. LIGHTER FLUID. He and I fought about it – obviously. He took me off the approved visitor’s list at the hospital. I wasn’t even allowed updates as to whether or not he was alive. I was DESTROYED like Carthage.

Then the phone calls from bill collectors started. (MORE LIGHTER FLUID). His secret life had included stealing small amounts of money per month from my checking account (we never had any joint accounts ever). He was using the $40-$80 a month to pay minimum balances on credit cards he’d taken out in my name and run up tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt in my name. Now I find out I’d been humiliated, traumatized, and was also broke and in big debt. (All while starting a brand new school administration job at a turnaround school). When he was finally released from the hospital in late June he went to his mom’s house. He begged for forgiveness. I told him to leave me alone because I had no idea if any of it was ever going to be forgivable. He responded by attempting suicide and being admitted to a psychiatric hospital. (BURN BABY BURN!)

In the meantime, I did what I needed to do (sold everything and took out a loan) to pay off all of the debt. But I was afraid to file for divorce because we were legally married – and if he DID kill himself or die – any debt that he had in his own name could become my responsibility and then I’d be right back to square one (6 figures in debt). Due to his arm injuries, they had to transport him back and forth to the regular hospital for his arm checkups. After I refused to take his calls on the morning of one of these transports, he tried to “escape” by trying to jump out of the moving ambulance and fucking up his other arm. More surgeries.

Once he was out of the hospital – the unhinged behaviors, scary texts, stalking behaviors, and threats – mixed in with frantic pleading for another chance and wild declarations of love – became relentless. He’d text me all day; call and leave rambling and frightening voicemails all night. (Duplicate texts that I’m sure that “Lady Hoebags” was also getting from him in his attempt to get one of us to forgive him so he’d have a place to live once his mom finished moving to the land her and her boyfriend had bought in Nevada). Needless to say I couldn’t even see straight from how tired I was. I was too afraid to leave my phone on silent all night in case something happened; but it rang constantly.

On August 31st our lease was up. I had already moved away and the last time I saw him in person was when he came to get the last of his things. When he left with the U-Haul he was still begging for forgiveness out of one side of his mouth while being threatening to me out of the other side. (Even though he had already starting reconciling with his mistress). At the end of September, I felt confident enough that he wasn’t going to kill himself or die; so I filed for divorce. He didn’t show up for court, didn’t hire an attorney, didn’t return my lawyer’s calls and hid. We had to hire marshals to serve him with his papers. My divorce was final on April 9, 2020. I was separated and alone for more months of my marriage than I was physically with my husband. We only lived together as “husband and wife” from March 23rd-May 18th (the night of his accident). The bursts of lighter fluid between my mom’s accident and his suicide attempts, betrayals, and accident made the coals flare several times. But in reality, once I found out all of the layers of the truth I realized that our entire relationship had been a mirage that I was always viewing through a haze of smoke.

A lot of support from my closest friends, a forensic accountant, a crisis therapist, a wonderful mentor, and working relentless hours at a Turnaround School got me through the worst of it. I persevered through a mix of stubbornness, spite, and pure grit. Seeing all of this typed out in print it all seems ridiculous or like it wasn’t actually real. Sometimes when I look back on it all it feels like I’m watching someone else’s life and not my own. But now, I laugh about a lot of it. Now my life is probably the most amazing that it has EVER been. I am working at a great job in a great school district and am FINALLY confidant in my skills as an educator. My money is more under control than it’s been since 3 years before my marriage. (I am 15 measly months away from being 100% debt free and am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel caused by Senor Dickhead). I have recreated and reinvented myself and am stronger than I ever thought that I could be. I started dating and (fingers crossed) have met an incredible man who treats me better than anyone I have ever been with before. For maybe the first time in my entire life I am happy and relatively at peace. The Romans tried to scorch my earth and tried to salt it after they left – but I persisted and am growing anyway. Unlike when I was in college; this time I didn’t do it all on my own. But the confidence and skills I learned from my first fire prepared me for the resilience I would need to overcome the scorched earth that was my marriage.

Ironically, several weeks after my house burned down – my roommate Justin and I went out for Chinese food. For as unbelievable as it is, the fortune from my fortune cookie from that dinner is still in my bedroom all these years later. (I recently got new carpet and when they moved the furniture I couldn’t find it for a few minutes and thought it was lost and nearly had a panic attack – but it was just hiding under my jewelry box.)

Been through 4 apartments & 2 houses and is still with me! Ride or die fortune cookie!

Like most former goth/punk kids – Charles Bukowski has always had a special place in my heart. For as problematic of a man he may have been – he makes a great point: “What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire.” If mankind’s greatest achievement was taming fire – then maybe it takes us a lot of tries to learn how to control the blazes that we encounter so that they create productive and fertile futures. In the end, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better to burn it all down and start fresh with only the things that really matter and not all the “clutter” that we jam pack into our lives. Crops can’t grow when their roots are choked. Ash doesn’t have to choke us – it can fertilize the ground for what we actually need. Control the blaze the best you can and take only what you need with you; but be prepared for the occasional blast of lighter fluid or lightning strike and don’t let it take you by surprise and burn you at the stake unprepared. And when it gets hard – make the best of it. Like the lady in the painting in my bathroom.

What is “Survivorship” Anyway?

I have frequently heard from friends, acquaintances, colleagues, or random strangers that I am a “Real Survivor”; or that I have had “SUCH AN INTERESTING LIFE!” When I was younger I couldn’t stand hearing comments like those. I’m sure that people had the best of intentions and were probably trying to be encouraging or thought that they were “cheering me on”. But in my head, the only thing that I HEARD was “wow your life must suck!” Over the last couple of decades, the last three years in particular; my view of being a “survivor” has really changed. I no longer really see it as a backhanded insult; but rather as a testament to my ability to bundle the traits that I’ve developed/accumulated/learned to use when I needed them (think Captain Planet style) to get through hardships sanely. Recently, I was randomly googling “What traits do all people who are considered to be “survivors” have in common?” I got several results that brought me to stereotypical magazine articles that mostly talked about the power of positive thought (which I’m all for – but I was looking for something more nuanced than that). Finally, I came across this brief list: https://successdotinc.com/2020/07/26/the-characteristics-of-survivors/. The more that I reviewed the list, the more that I started to frame my experiences through the lens of Acceptance, Independence, Optimism, Trust, and Resilience.

According to the author, acceptance is a trait that is common amongst survivors. The survivor accepts himself and others. He doesn’t try to change people.” I have to say that this is the trait on the list that I LEAST see in myself. At least in terms of self-acceptance. I definitely struggle occasionally with letting how things ARE vs how I WISH they were impact how I see MYSELF. However, I have always been adept at ingesting facts and synthesizing quickly to determine the best course of action. One of my favorite books/movies of all time is “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas. Edmond Dantes’ streak of insanely bad luck, betrayal by his closest friend, his survival of the infamous Chateau d’If, and his ultimate escape from prison was full of challenges which he ultimately and tenaciously overcomes. (Of course he then declines mentally and gets obsessed with destructive and totally unhealthy vengeance but that’s not the part of the story that I’m thinking of…..) Like Edmond, I have been through several storms and managed to come out on the other side a little battered and salty, but mostly unscathed.

When I was a teenager, I had a hard time feeling accepted. I hung out with the “freaks”. A hodgepodge of punks, goths, Rocky Horror Picture Show enthusiasts, hippies, skateboarders, and other random nonconformists. As a result, I often got teased by the popular kids at school – and I even got plenty of ribbing from within some of those subcultural groups/cliques. At the TIME I didn’t feel accepted from the outside – but the experience did teach me that I had to be OK with who I was for ME – and not for anyone else. Because of the badgering I took in high school I was ultimately way more prepared to handle teaching middle and high school students. If you want an honest opinion on your looks – just wear a pair of pants that you aren’t quite sure about into your high school classroom. “Are you REALLY wearing those pants Ms. Hartmann? What is that?” If you can survive MULTIPLE generations of commentary on your fashion choices and STILL like your wardrobe – you’ll definitely gain confidence with or without the acceptance of others.

My marriage and divorce taught me a lot about acceptance too. Learning to accept myself for who I am and what I bring to the table in a relationship. The traumatic experience of my husband being struck by a pick up truck 2 months after our wedding; and me having to make split second decisions regarding saving his arm or not – was muscle-memory and a quick acceptance of reality. I made the tough choices without thinking. I accepted the options the trauma surgeon gave me as the only ones. I accepted that no one was helping me with the choice and that I only had a minute or less to give the direction/make the call. Quick acceptance of the facts allowed me to go on autopilot when I most had to. Now – more than 2 years later – I more readily understand that I DO accept things and people as they are and meet them there in a logical fashion. This has allowed me to think with my head when it’s most needed. It’s also why I always seem to get chosen to be on the Crisis Team(s) at work. Definitely not a task that I love or even LIKE – but I do tend to accept facts, keep a cool head, and just move on automatic when I have to. Like Edmond Dantes – you have to react when the storm comes – because it always will.

The second trait on the list is Independence – A survivor doesn’t rely on others to solve his problems for him. He takes charge of his own life. I have always been fiercely independent. As a kid I was just as content coloring or doing a puzzle as I was playing pretend by myself. Sure – I had friends; but I never NEEDED them to entertain myself or occupy myself. I preferred independent things like swimming or dance rather than team sports. Being independent is great – when you first go away to college; or when you need to go buy your first car, or decide what color to paint your bedroom. But total independence can also be isolating. It can lead you to close yourself off.

Sometimes, being a survivor requires you to push forward and persevere alone. Often, I told my high school students from tough backgrounds that they had to look out for themselves because at the end of the day – no one else can make your choices for you. When the stakes are high, you have only yourself to cheer on or to blame for the actions that you take and the decisions that you make. One of the hardest parts of my divorce wasn’t the breaking up of a 20+ year relationship. It wasn’t losing my close connections with my husband’s family. It was losing almost my entire circle of friends. Nothing shows you how to be independent like starting a new job, moving, starting over, filing for divorce, and also cutting off all of the friendships that were connected to that relationship. Suddenly it was me alone making the decisions about what to make for dinner, how to pay the bills, where to live, what groceries to buy, what music to listen to, and how to spend everyday. I wasn’t considering anyone’s opinions or thoughts or how it would impact them. I had the skills to do it – and after the first couple of months it was actually liberating. I felt like I was living my own life for the first time in over a decade. I had cut an anchor off of my neck and felt lighter even though I was still grieving. I was clear-headed. Some people NEED constant approval or opinions or entertainment or social interaction. I’m not sure I would have made it through the last three years if I wasn’t able to entertain, care for, and maintain my career independently without anyone else’s approval. The flip side of that is that when you do go through Hell – and you do it ON YOUR OWN – it gives you a confidence that really makes you feel like you can tackle anything. It makes you a better educator, a better person, and a better friend to those that matter to you.

The third trait on the list is Optimism …. A Survivor sees the good qualities that other people possess. He plans for the future with the mindset that there will be good things down the road.My Senior year in High School I was voted as “Class Pessimist”. It pissed me off then and it still pisses me off. My peers labeled me a pessimist because I was a goth kid with long black hair who wore black and listened to Depeche Mode. But in reality I have always been an optimist to a fault – at least when it comes to my belief in other people’s strengths. The downside of this is that I have often given friends, colleagues, students, and certainly my ex-husband more chances than I should have. My optimistic belief that when given the opportunity that people will do the right thing has sometimes led me to heartbreak. But that unfailing belief in others’ strengths has also made my classroom a place where everyone’s abilities are seen in a brighter light than their deficits. Seeing the best in people – even when they don’t see it in themselves has been a constant in my life; for better or worse.

I have often felt that there is a thin line between optimism and foolishness. When you love a family member, partner, colleague, or student so much that you see their sense of humor, ingenuity, courage, or talent more clearly than you see their dishonesty, theft, inconsistency, flakiness, or addiction – optimism can keep you shackled to unnecessary pain for much longer than you should be. But that same optimism is exactly what keeps you going – it allows you to continue to put yourself out there. It makes you realize that just because one person or group has hurt or disappointed you – that it’s worth it to keep finding the joy and the good in others. Just because you were more foolishly optimistic than you should have been in one scenario – doesn’t mean that you have to approach new experiences with cynicism or a closed mind. In the last two years I have had more fun and done more interesting things than ever before. After being hurt worse than I had ever been hurt before – I could have closed myself off and retreated into myself. But instead, I tried new things and believed optimistically that maybe some of them would be fun. It certainly hasn’t always worked out or paid off – but it certainly works out more often than not.

In November-ish of 2020 I started attempting to date after my divorce. I went on a date with someone that was the exact OPPOSITE of my “type”. We only went on two dates but he said something to me that I thought was very poignant. He told me that at first I should just say yes and try things. Find out what I really love and what I really don’t like about other people while just enjoying other human beings. That way I would be able to see a variety of great traits – whether or not I ended up liking certain men or not – I would be able to see the whole array of positives that people had to offer. I went to restaurants I’d never been to before, had some amazing and fun conversations with people in a variety of careers, and got to see the “best” parts of a lot of people. Is there a better way to “bounce back” after seeing the worst of the worst from the person that you loved the most – than to get to see the best of other people and to see how much people still have to offer? What a win. A less optimistic person would have probably written off men and crawled into a hole full of tequila and chocolate (I mean come on I did some of that too but not for long enough to move into the hole).

The fourth trait on the list is Trust – Even though a survivor has dealt with negative circumstances, he still finds people he can trust. He doesn’t shut himself off from contact. I have always had a very small circle. I’m personable and talkative – but I don’t trust blindly. During my ex-husband’s accident, and my divorce – I found out quickly who my real friends were. And they were AMAZING! When I think of my commutes to and from work with two colleagues and dear friends during the Summer of 2019 – I literally get misty-eyed (and I am NOT a big crier). Those two amazing women picked my confidence up when I needed it the most – they supported me every step of the way in my heartbreaking and slow and deliberate decision-making process. They were the calm in the eye of my hurricane who kept me from being swept into the water. They listened when I needed an ear, gave me a shoulder to cry on, gave me rides to work when I was too depressed to drive myself, and took me out for drinks when necessary. Several of my other closest friends outside of work also came through in the clutch – never judging and always supporting me. We had Kung Fu movie and Degrassi Junior High watch-a-thons, shopping trips, barbeques, Jameson shots, and they helped me sell all of my worldly possessions at a garage sale, and checked on me when I needed them to. They never judged me, let me go through my emotions, and had my back no matter what.

When you divorce a dangerous narcissist, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes fear. A lot of our mutual friends had heard a lot of falsehoods about me for years before it was revealed that my husband was cheating on me or stealing from me. As a result – they had a skewed version of the truth. Cutting them out of my life not only made my life easier, safer, and more productive – but it also made my life and my mind much quieter. It became possible for me to focus on the people that really mattered and were worth trusting. My circle is now very small – but it is tight. For the first time in my entire life I KNOW and FEEL exactly how much I’m cared for by those that matter. Real two-way trust has allowed me to experience deep and meaningful trusting friendships. Those relationships will help me weather any storm that comes after the hurricane of emotion that was 2018-2020.

The last trait on the list is Resilience – A survivor is not easily defeated. When bad things happen, he takes a problem-solving attitude rather than a defeated stance. One of my oldest friends once jokingly told me that I must have come across some sort of a cursed Monkey’s Paw in my youth that’s led to the often comical series of insane and unfortunate events that have happened to me over the last three decades. I believe in laughing through and about hardship. I also believe that hardship makes or breaks a person. I have ALWAYS had a very stubborn streak. I am often resilient merely out of stubbornness or spite. When my house burned down in college, everyone (my parents included), thought that I should drop out for a semester instead of deal with the stress. But I was in a program where I couldn’t just pick up in the fall – it would be a whole year before I could continue where I left off. Instead – I gritted my teeth, survived for 17 weeks on $250, and refused to let it beat me. It was the only semester of my academic career up to that point that I earned straight A’s. Spite and stubborn resilience can lead to great outcomes if you’re careful not to burn yourself out.

Resilience is something that every “Survivor” that I have ever met all have. However – some survivors have ONLY resilience. They made it through their struggles but they also became closed off, pessimistic, angry, loners who stopped seeking out the joy that life, friendships, career, or relationships have to offer. It may sound absolutely crazy – but I’m not sure that I would go back in time and change very much. In Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol Jacob Marley says, “I wear the chain I forged in life,” … “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will…”

When you’ve had challenges in your life, you can lug them around like Jacob Marley’s heavy chain, or you can use those hardships and lessons as bricks to create a strong foundation. Resilience will help you to get through ANYTHING. You grit your teeth, put one foot in front of the other, take the hits, slog forward through the mud and get it done. Whether or not you use those heavy bricks to build the foundation of something new and amazing that leads to happiness – or you lug them around in a bookbag angrily is up to you. The possibilities for what you can choose to build are endless.

Being a survivor is only the first step. Certainly it’s the most important step. It’s the first motion you have to take to get out of the darkness of the cave of trauma or depression. But it’s only the FIRST step of many. And if ALL you want to do is survive – I suppose you can just stop right there with one foot outside of the cave. But surviving WELL – means you have to take a second, third, fortieth, and five-thousandth step. Those are the steps that lead to surviving well – surviving happily – and eventually thriving with newfound confidence and hope. If you can look back on your experiences and laugh at how ludicrous the journey has been and can say that you survived WELL – it’s way more valuable than merely making it. Living well is what makes survival worth it.

Is is really a “post-covid” school year if Covid is still piloting the ship?

So hello again my friends! I deleted all of my old blogs to start all over. A LOT has happened since my last post in 2015 when I was still teaching in Chicago Public Schools. Here’s a brief OVERVIEW (imagine flashing lights and sound effects as we bounce through time)

  • 2015 Finished Administrative Certification & started looking for a Dean, Master Teacher, Department Chair, etc. position. (SPOILER ALERT – it took 3 years of looking while still teaching before I got my first offer)
  • 2016 Still teaching and heavily involved with contract negotiations that led to the first Charter School Strike Authorization vote in the county (SPOILER ALERT – a deal was made at 4 am on the day of the strike so we didn’t have to strike but WOW was that a learning experience)
  • 2017 – Offered and accepted first Assistant Principal job at a Junior High.
  • 2018 – Finally got engaged to long-time partner who I’d lived with for 10 years while vacationing in San Diego (SPOILER ALERT – covered my bunion surgery scar with my first tattoo on that trip. (Thanks Pappy McCall @pappyfromjersey at Tahiti Felix’s Tattoo Museum!)

    • Then went bar hopping getting free drinks everywhere we went because we had just gotten engaged!
    • Aww look where we got engaged on the roof of the St. James Hotel!!! (SPOILER ALERT – It was one of the only structures to survive that awful early 1900’s earthquake which in retrospect I should’ve taken as a bad omen. But thanks for a great trip St. James Hotel!!!
  • March 2019 – Got married! Looked super fancy – had a super rocking wedding. Skateboards and nerf guns were included. The Riverdales DEFINITELY got played.
  • May 2019 – Husband hit by a car & almost has arm amputated. SUPER STRESSUL. (SPOILER ALERT – did you know that the majority of marriage infidelities are discovered in hospitals? Mine was! Injured husband’s mistress bumps into me at the hospital. Someone call Shonda Rimes because have I got a STORY TO SELL!!!)
  • Later in May 2019 – Offered a position for an Assistant Principal at a Turnaround School with my mentor. Needed the 12-17 hour demanding days to distract me from the infidelity dumpster fire at home soooooo….. I took the job.
  • September 2019 – Filed for divorce. (SPOILER ALERT – Man that sucked!)
  • January 2020 – 1st year of the turnaround is going well! It only cost us TONS of union meetings, blood sweat & tears, and LOOOONNNNGGGG hours. But things are ON A ROLL. We’ve GOT THIS!! (We thought we did at least!)
  • March 2020 – COVID. (Like I said – we THOUGHT “We got this”. Turns out “We don’t got this!)
  • Later in March 2020 – My first direct COVID exposure – TIME TO QUARANTINE!!!
  • April 2020 – Divorce is final. (While alone in quarantine and no human contact except with my buddy Don Julio while in my sweat pants!)
  • June 2020 – My dear sweet black kitty Selina (who isn’t even 5 years old yet) is diagnosed with diabetes. Are you kidding me? (SPOILER ALERT – I was now shooting up my cat twice a day. Feeling like a total scum bag everytime because she hated it and I felt like human trash because it made me feel so sad to do it to her.)
  • July 2020 – Am I really getting ready for a whole school year in Covid? Yep (Oh yeah and my boss got forced out so there’s now no principal! SPOILER ALERT – They didn’t hire one. AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!)
  • August 2020 – Good job kitty-mama – the vet says that Selina’s glucose is regular. Kept shooting up my cat twice a day! (This means I am tied to the house as I have to be there exactly every 12 hours to do so!)
  • Later in August 2020 – School “starts” – if you wanna call it that. Kids are in – kids are out – some kids are just MIA. Teachers are scrambling and exhausted teaching synchronously and asynchronously. (Is Covid over yet???)
  • October 2020 – HS football is cancelled just in time for me to dip my toe into the dating pool for the first time in over a decade (too bad everything is closed and there’s nowhere to go)
  • Later in October 2020 – Selina succumbs to diabetes and passes away. (SPOILER ALERT – turns out it DOES get worse than finding out your husband was cheating on you for 3 years BEFORE you even got married. MANY MANY TEARS and MARGARITAS FLOWED)
  • January 2021 – District gets permission to be a vaccination site for the county. In exchange for using the district building the health department vaccinates the District employees first. (January 25th – SHOT ONE DONE! THINGS MIGHT BE LOOKING UP!!!!)
  • February 14th 2021- Got tattoo to memorialize my forever-broseph Selina. (Thanks @nicksharratt from Fudo Tattoo Chicago!)
  • February 25th 2021- SHOT NUMBER 2! WOO HOO!!
  • February 27th 2021 – Start dating.
  • March 2021 – Things are devolving at work. All positive turnaround momentum has been lost without consistent leadership. People start to resign. Guess who the excess work falls on? Those who are staying. (SPOILER ALERT – that includes people whose cheating husband stole a LOT of money from them and desperately NEED their salary so they need to keep plugging away)
  • May 2021 – Aggressively looking for a new position so work is MISERABLE and NEGATIVE and an EMOTIONAL DRAIN (SPOILER ALERT – things weren’t all bad because the dating is going REALLY well and things are getting a little serious with a really awesome person!)
  • July 2021 – Offered a DREAM job in a DREAM district and ACCEPT
  • August 2021 – The start of Covid school year #2.5 – but so far IT’S BEEN AWESOME!!!

So now that we’re all caught up – check out some articles I wrote along the way!

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/why-applying-to-high-school-shouldnt-be-harder-than_b_5926e755e4b0627b74360da5

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/teaching-black-history-to-our-students-of-color_b_58948fade4b02bbb1816b967?timestamp=1486131763520