battles

Note to Self:

You're wrong when you say, "You have to pick your battles," when referring to your students.  The truth is you never want a battle.  You don't want a war.  You don't want shrapnel wounding students and you don't want attrition taking innocent lives.  So, don't choose your battles.  Instead, remember that you're fighting for them (even in discipline) because ultimately the real wars are poverty and racism and injustice and ignorance.  Those are the battles you need to choose.

Sincerely:
John

icing on the cake

Note to Self:

There have been times you have reduced something to being "icing on the cake," as if the aesthetic and enjoyable are merely superfluous, ornamental elements of life.  The truth is that icing is the best part of the cake. You would never consider eating cake alone.  It would be a bland, high-calorie muffin.  But my God, add some frosting and it becomes one of the best things in life.  Try busting out an frosting-free cake at your next birthday party and see if it's "just icing on the cake." It could be the best baked cake and everyone will still remember you as that douche bag that tried passing off a giant muffin as a cake.

I'm thinking maybe your use of the phrase goes deeper.  On some level, you buy into the American Gothic, stoic, orderly waspy value system.  You see something as necessary only if it's functional (you own one item of jewelry and you don't own a watch).  You don't understand why people care so much about cars or clothes and on some level, that's all noble.  But you should know better.  Enjoy the icing on the cake.  Enjoy a slow pint of hefeweizen or a cup of coffee or the sheer enjoyment of dipping a spoon into a fresh jar of peanut butter or popping bubble wrap, because life would suck without the icing.

Sincerely:
John

Summer Vacation

Note to Self:

You didn't have a vacation.  You weren't baking in coconut oil, sipping a margarita and sleeping in until eleven.  You didn't lounge around on lazy boy, curling up to a novel and sipping iced coffee.  You didn't go to someplace exotic, where you could come back and feel the conflicting sense of superiority in America ("Oh God, we have it so good here.  You don't know how other people live") and a smug sense that the locals have taught you something ("They were so poor and yet so happy.")

You spent this summer breaking up fights between the boys and mowing the yard and reading stories and seeing grace in the garden, when you were awestruck by tomatoes transforming into salsa.  All from a tiny seed nonetheless.  And you were even more awestruck when Brenna learned to wave the day.  You planned units and fought off the urge to overplan.  You imagined the students you don't yet know and you had instant-message conversations with students of the past.  You experienced what it was like to stay up late talking to Christy without worrying about how tired you would be when you tried to teach the next day.

Vacation is escape.  There's nothing wrong with escape.  It has its place in life.  However, what you experienced was a sabbatical. You experienced rest and restoration.  Instead of an escape from the banality of life, you got a chance to experience the authenticity of relationships.

So call it Summer Sabbatical.  It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?  You love alliteration, so that's a bonus.

anger management

Note to Self:

You step up to the sliding glass door and re-live the pain of the pane, shattered by the projectile plate that you threw the ground because someone called immigrants "dirty criminals" and you remembered every student you knew who had been deported. For a moment, you wish you could be a little nicer. A little more pleasant.  A little more Mr. Rogers. A man of many cardigans who says, "Isn't that swell" and "We'll just agree to disagree."

You think that perhaps there is a magical formula to prevent you from ever losing your temper like that again, a way to manage anger.

Then, you step outside, holding Brenna and listening to the rain.  Micah beckons you out from the porch and you stand in the rain.  Then you dance.  You jump.  You smile.  You cry.  Tears of joy.  Tears of release.  You know that it will mean you have to get a new shirt and you'll have to change Brenna and she might eventually cry.  But right now she's laughing and smiling and you cleanse yourself in the monsoon storm.

You're passionate, John.  You're sensitive.  It's something you can't escape.

Nice guys don't get crucified.  They don't get shot on balconies.  They aren't told by the community that the only remedies for their questions is a strong shot of hemlock.

You don't have to be nice.

Really.

You need to be loving, compassionate, kind, even gentle.  But nice? Not so much.

Later at Starbucks as you hear the men talk about the new rules for the Home Owner's Association and you watch one of them get distracted by his blue tooth conversation about professional golf, the truth is confirmed. Life is a vapor and you can't let it pass by in quiet desperation.  It's too short for, "How about the weather?" and afternoons spent watching professional golf.

So, live passionately.  Write books.  Dance with your kids.  Ask hard questions that might lead to scary answers.  Make love to your wife and bear your soul to her.  Share a pint with your friends and talk about something deeper than the local hometown sports team.  Dare to care about your students and teach with energy even when it's late May and their in eighth grade and the Wall of Apathy seems insurmountable.

You know that deep within your soul, the only cure for losing your temper is humility.  Try to manage it and you'll be just as angry, but you'll kill your sensitive, passionate soul.

Sincerely:
John

interactive toys

Note to Self:

I said the other day that I don't believe in "interactive toys."  I should have said "electronic toys."  If it beeps and buzzes and lights up, it's not interactive.  It's not engaging.  It's simply an amusement device.  I don't need Leap Frog to teach Joel how to read.  We can use flash cards and environmental text instead.  Ahh . . . but interactive?  How about that washer box that they turned into a fort?  Or those sticks that have switched from swords to magic wands to catapults?  Or that book (no, not the flat screen iPad, but the one with pictures and pages where they can flip, not virtually, but physically)?  Or the whoopie cushion that Joel is playing with to hear all the different kinds of farts he can make.  Who knows?  I might be screwing them up with my Luddite bent.  Perhaps they need to be Digital Natives, but for now I'm happy with them being native in their own back yard.  I want connectivity to be not so much bars on a screen, but a mind engaged to one's surroundings.

Sincerely:
John

terribly

Note to Self:

You often use the word "terribly" to describe things that are far from terrible.  Like the other day at the grocery store when you said to the clerk (I'm not sure why they're called clerks instead of employees aside from perhaps the cool connotation of a slightly indie film), "I'm terribly sorry but do you know where I can find the peanut butter."  There was nothing terrible about the apology aside from the fact that you really had nothing to be sorry about.  I don't get the sense that he was seriously focussed on the task at hand. After all, he was stocking toilet paper not writing a doctoral thesis.

Sincerely:
John

practicing

Note to Self:

Sometimes you get really insecure about your faith.  I'm not sure why.  You believe in Jesus, but that doesn't mean you wear an acronym bracelet or decorate with lighthouses (because nothing says "I love God" like a large industrial building beckoning ships selling cheap plastic crap from China).   Sometimes you ask people if they are a "practicing Christian," as if faith requires a person to do some drills at the gym.  It's your identity.  It's your world view.  A person would never say, "I'm an American, but I'm not really practicing.  You know, I basically just barbecue on Memorial Day and blow shit up on the Fourth of July and sometimes I wear a WWJD? bracelet (What Would Jefferson Do?)  Beyond that, I don't really practice my American identity."

Sincerely:
John

that really sucks

Note to Self:

When you heard that the Taylors' son had cancer, the best response would have been to cry with them.  If any words were possible, you could have scrounged around your lexicon and found something better than "that really sucks."  I know you didn't say it flippantly and perhaps your body language communicated something deeper.  But "that really sucks" is a phrase you say when someone drops a smart phone in the toilet or loses a ticket for an important sporting event.  When a kid has cancer, the world shatters and it demands something deeper than words - perhaps sobs or groans or an open ear.

Sincerely:
John

Scientific Method

This post was inspired by Jerrid Kruse and his amazing blog

Note to Self:

Science isn't a methodology.  It's a process, perhaps, but a messy one.  Don't let the men in tight pants and whigs nail you down to their mechanical clockwork universe. Science is the art of observation, ping-ponging back and forth between asking questions and observing data and making conclusions (that are often hypothesis).  Sometimes the "experiment" is first or last or middle.  If science were a narrative, it would be a postmodern one - like Memento.  If Joel and Micah have taught you anything, it's that science doesn't have to happen in a lab.  It doesn't always require goggles and lab coats.  Sometimes it's about

Sincerely:
John

you know what I mean?

Note to Self:

People know what you mean.  You aren't in a foreign country.  You aren't a totally opaque, inarticulate communicator.  So, when you constantly ask, "you know what I mean?" or "Does that make sense?" you are either insulting your intelligence or the intelligence of others.  I've met your friends.  They are not too shy to tell you when you are failing to communicate well.  Some of them seem to enjoy telling you that.  So maybe you can ditch that phrase and just say what you mean.

Sincerely:
John

jump-start

Note to Self:

A few times yesterday you mentioned that Arizona needs to "jump-start" the economy.  Wrong.  The economy crashed.  No surprise, really.  It was the Yugo of all economies, built on a sprawling suburban housing market.  What else do we have?  A few call centers.  They have those in Dubai, too.  When something completely crashes you don't try to jump-start it, you redesign it.  You rethink it.  You create an entirely different system.  What's the answer?  It's not your decision.  You're not an economist.  But you know the answer has nothing to do with a quick jump-start.

Sincerely:
John

consequences

Note to Self:

Sometimes you use the word "consequence" to justify the remaining elements of behaviorism within you. I hear you say things like, "A kid who tags in school needs a consequence." Wrong. That kid needs a change of heart. But forcing a child to leave school for a few days won't make a kid quit tagging. You know from experience that when a kid tags and is caught, he or she will almost always volunteer to paint over it. But if you force this act, you rob a child of a chance to practice empathy and face the natural results of an action. So can we start calling "consequences" what they really are: bribery and extortion?

Sincerely:
John

Literacy

Note to Self:

Aaron Eyler is right.  Education is addicted to using literacy for everything that is not literacy. Even when it's used, it often doesn't encompass anything that one would use in true literacy.  Is a child technological literate if he can write a blog?  Not so much.  He doesn't know about the character development of blogging and how it's changing us as people.  He doesn't think about the setting of digital interaction.  He hasn't thought about the themes of blogging and the larger conflict of man vs. machine.  It's a misnomer we would never use in other contexts.  Who would ever use attention math?  It's trite and annoying.  Last year, I heard about empathetic literacy, citizenship literacy, global literacy, awareness literacy, 21st century literacy, digital literacy and technological literacy (how that's different from digital literacy, I'm not sure).  Why don't we try focusing on how to make students literacy literate instead?

Sincerely:
John

child marketing

Note to Self:

You used the term "brilliant child marketing" to describe Disney. Every major diaper company has Disney characters on them - call it branding or indoctrination, but it isn't marketing.  Not when they aren't mature enough to understand.  The positive? It's your child's chance to do to Disney what they'll do to your child: fill them full of crap. So maybe we can ditch the term "child marketing" and call it what it is - the economic pimping of little kids minds.

Sincerely:
John

Google

Note to Self:

Google doesn't own your mind.  Although they now organize your e-mail, your documents and your calendar, Google is not your master.  They are the world's most powerful advertising agency.  So, don't give them free advertising by always inserting the word "Google" instead of "search."  You took it to a new level yesterday when you couldn't find your shoes and you said you'd have to Google it.  In fact, the minute Google knows where your shoes or keys or mojo have gone is the moment they know too much about your life.

Sincerely:
John

funny

Note to Self:

You often use the word "funny" when things are not funny.  Typically, it is after a story that someone tells that isn't really comical or tragic or insightful.  So, you say "that's funny" as an act of consolation.  It's the box of Tide that the loser gets when he's failed at Family Feud.  Other times, you use "that's funny" to describe things that are anything but funny. "I find it funny that we bail out multi-billion dollar banks but try and hold first year ELL students accountable for an English-only standardized test."  Actually, you don't find that funny.  Not in the least. Not "ha ha" funny for sure, but not even in that lstm funny (laughing silently to myself).  The truth is that it infuriates you. So, perhaps it's time to ditch that word before you end up starting a sentence with "the funny thing about genocide. . ."

Sincerely:
John

fast food

Note to Self:

You asked someone yesterday if there were any fast food places near the training. Wrong term, John. Fast food is neither fast nor food.  So perhaps when you see fast food, you should choose one or the other.  Either fast or find food.  Next time call it what it is: deep fried processed chemicals.

Sincerely:
John

ethnic food

Note to Self:

You used the term "ethnic food" at the grocery store yesterday.  What you wanted to say was "Mexican spices" but you tailored to the vapid terminology used by supermarket marketers. You know better.  All food is ethnic.  Food never exists in a cultural vacuum.  Except perhaps Kraft Mac and Cheese.  That's pretty much tailored to a non-existent global, monolithic fast food culture.  Oh, and Pop Tarts.  Yeah, and you can add Hot Pockets to the list as well.  Beyond that, let's be honest.  All food is ethnic.

Sincerely:
John

strong male figure

Note to Self:

You told another teacher that you could handle a few eighth grade trouble makers because they might need a "strong male figure."  It's a nice term teachers use when they want to say, "this kid acted like a screw-off and you need to take him in your class." Others around you had used the term and without thinking, you tossed it around as well.  Sorry to break it to you, but you're not that strong.  You're not even that male -- if you are defining masculinity in a Chuck Norris, take-no-prisoners mentality.  What you can provide is a relationship, a connection, a sense of compassion mixed with a hard dose of truth.  Your strength will not come from being strong, but through being humble.  For a few of those kids, you might be the first example of a man who is sensitive and honest and faithful.

Sincerely:
John

absolute necessity

Note to Self:

You just wrote your principal explaining why a MacBook is not an absolute necessity.  You gave, as your reason, the fact that you own your own laptop running on Linux.  Here's the deal: you've gone from liking computers to needing computers to claiming they are absolute necessities.  You can live without a laptop.  (You've gone this far without owning a cell phone).  Absolute necessities are things like food and water and love and coffee.

Sincerely:
John

worst nightmare

Note to Self:

You have had many nightmares over the years: being chased by a rabid cartoon hippo, flying through the air only to be shot down by unsuspecting rednecks, showing up to school-class-church naked, being covered with flesh-burrowing insects who infect that brain and cause you to communicate only through pantomime and musical numbers.  If the Dodgers won the pennant it would be sad, but it would not be your worst nightmare.  If you had to succumb to societal pressures and someday own a cell phone, it would make you . . . normal.  And really, that's a far cry from your worst nightmares.

Sincerely:
John

starving

Note to Self:

When you said, "I'm starving," I'm sure you meant it with cliche hyperbole.  What you mean is "I'm inconveniently hungry," which is entirely different.Just remember that there are some people in this world who say, "I'm starving" and they really mean it.  It is by accident of geography that you will never have to say those words while feeling the gut-wrenching reality of starvation.  And it is by accident of geography that you can go back to the dinner table without thinking twice about true starvation.

Sincerely:
John

home sourcing

Note to Self:

Alan suggested that you ditch the word "home sourcing" and he's right. I think you borrowed that term from The World Is Flat or one of those pop sociology books. I'm sure it has its place somewhere.  But still, it sounds silly.  "I home source my laundry.  How cutting-edge."  Or perhaps, "I am home-sourcing my dishes.  No more sending them to the Laundry Centers in Dubai."  See, it just doesn't work, does it?

Sincerely:
John

life-long learners

Note to Self:

You often use the term "life-long learner" when, in fact, everyone continues to learn for a lifetime.  It's a natural part of the human condition.  Besides, learning for the sake of learning seems a bit empty and school-marmy. What you want for your students is something different.  You want passionate learners.  You want critical and creative thinkers.  You want your students to learn to live well.  A man learns something from watching professional golf.  He learns about chip shots and fairways.  He learns how to speak about golf without snickering at all of the innuendo.  But that's not the kind of learning you want your students to pursue for a lifetime.

Sincerely:
John

needless to say

Note To Self:

You often use "needless to say," but you don't mean it.  If it were really needless, you wouldn't say it.  The phrase is empty and simply buys you more time on a dramatic ending.  Your life isn't that dramatic so perhaps if something seems "needless to say," you could just shorten your stories, take out the commentary and get to the main point. You can add "to make a long story short," which is often used when you take a really short story and turn it into something intolerably long.

Sincerely:
John

Cult Following

Note to Self:

Cults are scary.  They are run by men with huge sunglasses who demand things like forced suicide and brain washing.  And they tell you what to wear.  Conan O'Brien doesn't have a cult following.  He has a group of enthusiastic viewers.  It's because he's funny and he screws with Big Media.  Unless he buys a few thousand acres in Uganda and tries to recreate paradise on earth, he'll probably remain a tv personality and not a cult figure.  Now Glenn Beck and Oprah Winfrey. . .

Sincerely:
John

papers

Note to Self:

You are as close as possible to teaching a paperless classroom.  So, you might want to stop telling students to turn in papers. Unless you mean legal documentation, but I'm doubtful that you'll ever be a member of ICE.  As long as you are ditching "papers," you might also want to ditch the term "folders," when in fact your students use tags and thus participate in folksonomy rather than linear organization.

Sincerely:
John

The Postal Service

Note to Self:

Everyone you know calls it "the post office," so you might want to start using that terminology.  Your incessant use of "The Postal Service" confuses people.  They think you are referring to an indie side project whose music can best be described as "Death Cab for Cutie meets Super Mario Brothers soundtrack."Unless your mail carrier grows out his hair and becomes a trendy hipster, you probably will need to stick with the term "post office" in the future.

Sincerely:
John

Awesome

Note to Self:

Christy is right.  You use the word awesome when, in fact, what you are describing does not create any sense of wonderment and awe.  Garlic butter is a great thing, but it is probably not awesome.  Bubble wrap is addicting, but it is not awesome.  America's Test Kitchen is informative, but it is far from being an awesome show.  You may ask, "What about s'mores?  Can't s'mores at least remain awesome?"  The answer would be a definitive, yes.  Just watch Joel and Micah blow out a flaming marshmallow, set it on a bland store-brand graham cracker and carefully place their chocolate squares and you will see a sense of wonderment and awe.

Sincerely:
John

stupid

Note to Self:

It seemed like a tame word a few years back, didn't it?  Stupid car.  Stupid house.  Stupid song on the radio.  Just discount the creative work of others, because the criticism is a thing.  Then you heard "stupid class" and "stupid lesson" and it felt like a sledgehammer to the stomach.  You learned that stupid means something different in the barrio where you teach.  Then you had kids and you accidentally said "stupid toy" and Joel rightfully went off on you for insulting Legos (albeit placed at just the right angle to damage bare feet).  You learned quickly that "stupid" is like "hate."  It's overused.  Your students and your kids have taught you that the world isn't as stupid as you thought, just a little lost like you. And you learned just how elitist you can be when you become the Sultan of Stupid.

Sincerely:
John

with all due respect

Note to Self:

You are most likely to use "with all due respect" when, in fact, you no longer have any respect for whom you are talking.  It's sort-of a nice way of saying, "Eff what you have to say. You will listen to me regardless of what you think."  Might as well change it to, "with no due respect" or perhaps "just shut up and listen to me."  Or you could try being a better listener and actually give them the respect they are due.

Sincerely:
John

illegal immigrant

Note to Self:

No matter how often you hear the word, make sure you don't get sucked into that semantic environment. The term "illegal alien" is not simply pejorative, it's also inaccurate. The truth is that we are the immigrants. We gained this land through theft and extortion then signed a treaty promising open access. Besides, laws exist to serve humanity, not humanity to serve laws. So if a law violates human rights, it's not really a law anymore. If you want to find real aliens, you have to go to New Mexico.

Sincerely,
John

fan

Note to Self:

Fans wear hats with logos and go out into freezing weather shirtless and covered in paint.  They reschedule special occasions because they are busy living vicariously through the local hometown sports team.  So, you might want to be careful about when you use the word fan.  For example, "I'm glad we're getting rid of torture.  I'm not a fan of torturing enemies."  I doubt that anyone, even proponents of harsh interrogation techniques is a "fan of torture." No one pulls out a beer and some Kettle Korn, paints their bodies in red, white and blue and then chants out slogans during water boarding sessions. (Except, perhaps, Dick Cheney.)

Sincerely:
John

educator

Note to Self:

Stop referring to yourself as "an educator."  It sounds elitist and feels distant from the daily reality of your classroom experience.  You tend to use it when you feel insecure about your vocation.  Maybe at a cocktail party or a "meet and greet" (we could ditch that word as well) when people bust out their fancy euphemistic job titles "I'm a chief industrial polytechnic engineer." So, you say, "I'm an educator" and it conjures up images of tweed jackets and pipes and it's all really sophisticated.  Except, it's not you.  For what it's worth, you're not even a huge fan of formal education.  You like learning.  You like teaching.  You like that give and take between instructing and listening, asking and waiting for questions.  Don't ever feel ashamed of the term "teacher."

Sincerely:
John

game changer

Note to Self:

You and I both know that the iPad is not a game changer.  It's a supersized ipod touch that's too big to fit in one's pocket.  It's like an e-reader that's bad on the eyes, a netbook with no flash, multitasking or keyboard and an iPhone with no camera or phone capabilities.  Maybe it's time people ditched the iPad.  Then again, maybe it's time you ditched the term "game changer."  After all, very few things ever "change the game" and when they do it's not really good.  Take baseball, for example.  The last real game-changer was the introduction of the designated hitter.  That and steroids.  Consider hockey.  That last real game-changer there was moving the sport out of the Canadian icy wastelands and into the desert.  Look how that turned out. So maybe we should keep the games as they are.

Sincerely:
John

comic book

Note to Self:

Apparently they are called "graphic novels," even if they have superheroes.  The student in third hour was right when he said, "There's not really anything comical about saving the world."  I know, I know, you could make the case that grown men dressed in tights are comical.  But then you'd have to start laughing at our Founding Fathers and in your state, a joke about the Fathers just might qualify for sedition (good thing you don't have an accent) and you'll lose your job.  So just stick to "graphic novels" and you'll be safe.

Sincerely:
John

exactly

Note to Self:

You speak in vague generalities almost all the time.  See, "almost all the time" is pretty vague.  You shudder at a world where everything is quantified and measured and estimated and state in a statistic. You find relief within the standard-deviated gray zone of the margin of error.  So, why do you insist on using "exactly" when what you mean is "that's generally true, depending upon my flux of moods, the stream of consciousness and my overall propensity to over-agree in order to avoid conflict."

Sincerely:
John

Note: Thanks for the tip @jasonchri

literally

Note to Self:

I think you meant "figuratively" when you said that the Suns "literally destroyed the Spurs."  I double-checked on espn.com and it looks like the Spurs are still an NBA franchise.  (If only it were that easy.) In fact, I've noticed how often you use "literally" in figurative contexts.  You were not "literally dying laughing" at Jim Gaffigan.  The man is funny, but he's not lethal.

Sincerely:
John

good kid

Note to Self:

Using the term "good student" would have been sketchy.  After all, some of the best thinkers are members of the Legion of Piss Poor Scholars Who Nevertheless Think Well About Life.  Yet, when you used it today, it was in an effort to defend a child.  While your motives were good, you know deep within that there are not "good kids" and "bad kids."  Just kids.  Kids who have rough days and positive days and sad days and depressed days.  You know that your students are capable of dark things and amazing things - every one of them.  But when you use the term "good kid," it makes the assumption that there are bad kids out there.  It cheapens the notion of redemption.

Sincerely:
John

enthusiast

Note to Self:

You are not a coffee enthusiast.  You are an addict.  No enthusiast wakes up in the morning with a single, solitary thought of consuming that which he is enthusiastic about.  I have yet to see a stamp collector wake up early with the obsessive need to open a new package of stamps.  You are not enthusiastic about coffee. You are dependent upon it in order to be enthusiastic about anything.  Fortunately, it's a relatively tame addiction.  If it were porn, it would kill your marriage.  If it were meth, it would consume your life. You're safe with coffee.  If everyone in a nation shares the same addiction, we get to call it something prettier like a "cultural norm." So, unless you join the LDS church, you might as well be transparent about your addiction to java.

Sincerely:
John

realist

Note to Self:

When you call yourself a realist, it is simply a nice way of saying "pessimist" which is a nice way of guarding who you really are - the perpetual optimist.  Yes, you know the world is ugly.  Yes, things have gotten bad in your home state.  But you believe in hope, John.  And as you hold a sleeping Brenna and she breaths quietly on the secure shoulder of her daddy, all is well in your universe.

Sincerely:
John

smart phone

Note to Self:

Phones are capable of amazing information processing.  However, they are not smart.  Not in the practical sense.  Not in the philosophical sense.  Sure as hell not in the existential sense.  Any device that encourages mind sweeper doesn't really get the notion that life is a vapor. Christy's iPhone isn't really a cell phone and it's not a smart phone.  So, call it what it is - a miniature computer, a paperback version of a net book.

Sincerely:
John

peeps

Note to Self:

You just referred to your friends as your peeps.  This fails on several levels.  You can pull this off if your a 1990's hip hop icon.  You're not.  You can also pull this off if you are cutesy and use other phrases like "I heart this."  It's not you.  Finally, you can pull this off if you are literally referring to ginormous stale marshmallows colored and rolled in sugar. Unfortunately, you took the last of the Peeps and watched them expand in the microwave.  Try "friends" next time, unless you are worried that people might mistake you for a Quaker.

Sincerely:
John

absolutely

Note to Self:

There are very few absolutes in this world, yet you have a tendency to use "absolutely" when you actually mean "quite tentatively barring a horrible accident, my own procrastination or the breakdown of the bureaucratic framework that holds this profession together." For example, when asked if you will be watching Modern Family you answered "absolutely" then you reneged on your promise and chose to build Lego towers with Micah.

Sincerely:
John

magic bullet

Note to Self:

You used the term "no magic bullet" today to describe technology.  The truth is that we shouldn't be looking for bullets (magic or not) in the first place.  Let's try something creative rather than destructive.  The last time we sought a technological magic bullet, we ended up splitting the atom.  It was magical.  Dark magic, but magical nonetheless. Not exactly what I'm looking for in terms of educational technology.  

Sincerely:

John

you have to understand

Note to Self:

When you say "you have to understand," you are also saying, "understanding is not a choice."  Don't get me wrong, there are times when understanding is vital, but the process is always multilateral. So, when Joel  cries after a toy breaks, you can't make him understand anything.  He'll have to discover it, sometimes painfully.  Next time, try a question.  Or just listen.

Sincerely:
John

in the trenches

Note to Self:

Yesterday you described a workshop presenter as someone who "is still in the trenches" and hasn't lost touch.  John, you've never been in the trenches.  If it's a construction metaphor, your pansy non-calloused hands and your aversion to neon orange vests are evidence that you understand almost nothing of construction work.  If it's a war metaphor, you might want to avoid it entirely.  Wars are bloody and violent and destructive.  You spend your day helping a class of thirty children learn to think better about life.  Okay, it's closer to forty, but your having a blast and you are often learning as much from the conversation as they are.  It's not a war zone. It's a refuge.

Sincerely:
John

PS - KCL brought up a great point.  It's more like a garden than a refuge.

crimes against humanity

Note to Self:

You might not enjoy Dancing with the Stars, but you cannot keep referring to the show as a "crime against humanity."  Save that word for genocide.  Besides, people love that show.  It's not every day that you get to see washed-up talk show hosts compete against C-list actors for the adulation of the 45-65 year old demographic. After all, you enjoy watching the British Parliament on C-SPAN.

Sincerely:
John

Regards

Note to Self:

Who knew that the "t" and the "g" were so close to one another on the keyboard?  Perhaps "regards" isn't the best way to end an e-mail.  Stick with "sincerely," even if you're not feeling all that sincere.

Sincerely:
John

high expectations

Note to Self:

When an educrat uses the term "high expectations," it is a code word for "teach to the test."  Any notion of thinking better about life is now "fluff."  For what it's worth, you don't really want high expectations.  After all, if you expect your kids to be high when they enter class, you'll be responsible for supplying Moon Pies and rocky road ice cream. You're a teacher.  You can't afford that kind of a grocery bill.  So maybe you can continue with the expectation that every child will be able to think more critically about their world.

Sincerely:
John

human resources

Note to Self:

John, you keep referring to your interactions with the "human resource" department (incidentally, they've been generally positive) when the term "human resources" always makes you cringe; as if the goal is to extract as much out of me as possible. Just remember that you are human, but you are not a resource. Sure, you have a few talents, perhaps even a superpower (if awkward silence can be considered a superpower). However, you are not an item to be extracted. You can't be handled or managed. You are not an investment. You are valuable for who you are rather than how you are labeled.

Sincerely:
John

curriculum

Note to Self:

You made the mistake yesterday of referring to the textbook as curriculum.  Curriculum is a journey, a marathon, a set of ideas to think well about life.  A textbook is a bureaucrat-imposed set of dogma, a secular catechism of sorts.  It's not curriculum.  Call it a textbook.  Or better yet, call it McLearning - cheap and flashy, but fake and destructive.

Sincerely:
John

social media

Note to Self:

You use the term "social media" when your are typically referring to one medium.  Might want to avoid this, because you almost never use the correct verb-subject agreement of "Social media are . . ." Beyond that, the term is meaningless. Every medium is social.  It's nothing revolutionary.  Back in the day, it was called a front porch. (I suppose the first emoticons were sketched on cave walls, too.) So, if you want a social network, walk across the street, invite someone over for a pint and engage in a conversation that is not regulated by the 140-character rule.  Until then, call Twitter what it is for you - a geeky, introverted escape from the world of RIF lists and lesson plan formats.

Sincerely:
John

the reality is . . .

Note to Self:

You often use figurative language when you write. Your posts are layered in a hodgepodge of metaphor. However, I hope you realize that a blog post is not a work of Fantasy.  So, when you begin a sentence with "the reality is"  (which you do quite often) it leaves the reader pondering whether there were dragons or elves or other fictitious woodland creatures inhabiting the prior paragraph.  Which would be cool, really, because most of the time you're just talking about teaching or telling stories about your family or getting on a soapbox about the world.  Your blog could use a few more clashes with giants.

Sincerely:
John

common

Note to Self:

Businesses love to use the word "commons" when they are, in fact, aiming to please America's nobility rather than the commoners.  Hence, Kierland Commons in Scottsdale is not designed for you or anyone else who buys clothes at Ross and mows one's own yard and who uses toilet paper rolls as tissues.  The "commons" should be a shared place, a democratic location that belongs to the public. Thus, never allow yourself to apply the words "common assessment" to a standardized test.  What you spoke about yesterday was hierarchical rather than democratic, vertical rather than horizontal, created by a private interests rather than the public school teachers.  Next time you are in a meeting with fellow teachers, be sure to use the term, "standardized tests" or, if you prefer, "heavy-handed, mindless bubble sheet created to rank students for the purpose of pleasing the authorities, raising home prices and adding an Exceeds banner to a school's front gate."

Sincerely:
John

velocity

Note to Self:

Baseball announcers no longer use the word "speed" and instead opt for the term "velocity."  The impetus could be a confusion with drugs.  However, it is doubtful that a baseball player would choose speed when the most dominant drug would be Human Growth Hormones.  Perhaps the issue is one of scientific precision.  However, baseball announcers still use the term "sunset" rather than "earth rotation hour." I suppose it has to do with direction.  But last time I checked, the pitching mound is pretty static. All of this to say, you're not a baseball announcer John.  Use the word "speed" to describe a fastball.

Sincerely:
John

lol

Note to Self:

You very rarely laugh aloud.  You have never, ever laughed out loud.  So, what was with the lol in that e-mail? You're a liar and you're grammatically incorrect. Oh, you could always abbreviate it as LA, but then people would think that you were referring to Los Angeles or Louisiana.  Next time, just use the words, "that's funny" or, if you want to be really concise, "ha ha." Or, if you want to be even more concise, try :)

Sincerely:
John

PS: Or, if you want to follow Russ Goerend's advice, you could always go super-villain and bust out a muahahahaha

intervention

Note to Self:

If a kid can't figure out the Quadratic Equation, it's sad.  Really, it is.  Because in life, you have to bust out the Quadratic Equation . . .  Um, I'm not really sure who uses the Quadratic Equation, but it remains important. Still, the term "intervention" conjures up images of families in tears, conversations about rehab and a grown-up circle time where everyone holds styrofoam cups and talks about their addictions.  Not exactly what you want students to imagine.  So maybe you could just change the language to "help" or "extra support."  Your students aren't wrestling Heroin demons, they're having a tough time with passive voice.

Sincerely:
John

political party

Note to Self:

Don't be fooled by the machinery.  A political party is not really a party.  It's a philosophy, a platform, a virus whose goal is simply to maintain power.  Politics have pundits.  Parties have alcohol and music and dancing or, if you're too young for that, pinatas and cake.  For what it's worth, you are probably more at home with cake and the blind beating of a cardboard cartoon character. (After all, your son's birthday party might be the only day you get to physically display your pent-up anger toward Elmo.) So unless Nancy Pelosi starts offering guacamole, let's use faction instead of party.

Sincerely:
John

lift up

Note To Self:

You have never held the capacity to levitate another person.  Never.  So, next time when you pray, try dropping the "we just lift them up in prayer to you."  That's another thing, God is around rather than being "up there" so you probably don't need lift people to him in the first place.  Fortunately, God is multilingual and understands you despite your awkward phraseology.

Sincerely:
John

grass catcher / parking lot

Note to Self:

You told yourself that you would not use the words "parking lot" or "grass catcher," but instead say "questions for a later time."  After all, it's sort-of a passive-aggressive device that says, "Either what you are saying is irrelevant and I don't want to talk about it or is really important and I am afraid to have the conversation."  Today you used those phrases twice - when there was neither a grass catcher or a parking lot nearby.  I know you are fond of metaphors, but you have to admit that there is a threshold on the cheesy factory and parking lot / grass catcher fits in the same semantic environment as synergy and team player.

Sincerely:
John

epic

Note To Self:

The Odyssey was epic.  The Civil Rights Movement was epic.  Emo vampires are not epic.  A new dish detergent is not epic.  A philandering athlete's return to a very dull sport is anything but epic. You're not immune to such hyperbole. I know you love the carne asada burritos at Asadero Toro, but their portions really aren't epic, either.

Sincerely:
John

English Language Learner

Note To Self:

We're all learning English.  All of us.  We've even elected presidents who struggled with syntax and vocabulary.  You're no exception. You have a whole slew of participles that are dying slowly, dangling around waiting for their salvation.  So, can you go back to English as a second language instead? It might cost you something "professionally," but you weren't all that professional anyway.

Sincerely:
John

Woodcock Johnson

Note To Self:

Calling a test Woodcock Johnson was probably not a wise decision.  Then again, neither was repeatedly referring to the test just so that you could get away with using the words wood, cock and johnson in school.  Perhaps next time you can just call it the Special Ed test.

Sincerely:
John

Cooperative Learning

Note To Self:

All learning is cooperative.  Okay, not so much.  All school is cooperative.  (Sometimes learning is very anti-social, which is probably why you were better at learning than you ever were at school.)  Designating an activity "cooperative learning" makes the assumption that it's okay for some learning to be uncooperative or that you are really okay with uncooperative students.  Sorry but you're just not that patient. Call the activity what it is - group work.

Sincerely:
John

time investment

Note To Self:

Time is not a commodity you can invest. You will get old and the years you experience will slip away. You cannot invest it. Neither can you spend it, save it, find it or use it. The best you can do is live it well. So, next time that you had a blast all day don't lament the fact that you were "completely unproductive" with your time.

Sincerely:
John

Incentive

Note to Self:

If you have to provide an incentive, then it's probably not something you should ask of another person.  Just be honest.  It's a bribe. Or sometimes it's extortion.  Either way, is that really the best approach in dealing with people? So next time you are talking with teachers about pay-for-performance, don't say, "money isn't the best incentive."  Be honest and say, "I can't be bought off.  I teach, because I care about my students."   

Sincerely:

John