I Don’t Think My Opinions Are Stupid

I have recently started a blogging project with my students, and it has been a huge success. I don’t want to link this blog with my school one because I don’t think it is a good idea to cross those two paths, however I do want to share this with you.

We are currently reading Anne Frank and the kids are doing some amazing writing, self-reflecting, and commenting on each other’s work. In order to foster a community of writers, I have told them that I will complete every writing assignment that I assign them.

The latest post was to write a reflection on a variety of quotes I had chosen from the text. Here is the assignment:

I don’t think my opinions are stupid and others do; so it is better to keep them to myself. (page 102)

What are your thoughts about sharing opinions? Do you agree with Anne, that it is best to keep your opinions to yourself because no one will understand them, or is important to share them nonetheless? Read page 163 before starting this post.

1. Write a letter to Anne explaining to her whether you agree or disagree with her. Please explain your answer.

2. Write a post persuading your readers that your opinions are important, and why you refuse to keep them to yourself.


I was quite pleased with my response:

Dear Anne,

I know it must be difficult for you to discuss your thoughts and ideas with people who do not understand you, or worse people who berate and belittle you, but I do not think it is a good idea to bottle up your opinions. I don’t think your views are stupid, and even if they were you have a right to share and express them with the world.

Everybody on earth has his or her own opinion. That is what makes life so appealing. The fact that we can debate or argue, or compromise and exchange our thoughts with others is one of the most incredible aspects of living. I think we run into trouble when we cling to our opinions and fail to see that other people may disagree with us. This ultimately leads to conflict because we refuse to let other people share their thoughts.

Opinions change as people change. As a young girl, you have an outlook on life that will be dramatically different in five years, ten years, or twenty years. It is important, however, that at every interval in your life you examine and scrutinize your thoughts. Where do they come from? How are they influenced? How are you changing? This dissection of your beliefs is in the end how you will grow. This is education.

I have gone off track a bit so let me get back to my point. If you have opinions, it is important to share them, because once they are out in the world they will be open for discussion. You can then alter and adapt them to fit you better. If on the other hand, you only keep your opinions to yourself, or worse only share them with people who agree with you, then they will never evolve. They will become stale and outdated.

It can be frustrating to view the world in a certain way and have everyone you know, tell you that you are wrong. It can seem attractive to simply not share your thoughts with anyone, because they just don’t understand you. But you are only doing yourself a disservice if you keep all your thoughts inside.

If everyone decided to keep their opinions to themselves because they were afraid of disagreements than where would we be? We wouldn’t learn anything, because knowledge comes from the exchange of ideas. Through collaboration, comprise and cooperation we reshape the world into a better place. We do not hoard our ideas or opinions but display them publicly and defend them when necessary and alter them if need be.

We must not be rigid! Your mind is fluid and in flux and works best when it is open and active. So do not barricade yourself behind a wall of your own beliefs. Allow them to be malleable, and you will see that there are others out there who share your vision. We are glad that you have opened up your heart to us with your diary, and we are learning from you everyday. If you had not shared the opinions of a beautiful young girl, where would we be today? What would we have learned? How were we to grow?

Gimme Some Truth

I have been rather quiet politically recently, partly because my life is running very smoothly at the moment. I am busy, happy, and working like a crazy person, but today I saw this image and read these words in two different places, and their convergence made me think. I couldn’t withhold my disdain for this man any longer and had to post something.


While much of what he says in his letter makes more sense than I would like to admit, and I would love for many Americans to read it objectively, it is painful that he sees himself as somekind of human rights prophet. Here is a man running a country that still stones woman for adultery, and he is talk about empathy and justice. How can he possibly even mention the word freedom, when his very own people must cover their hair by force? The must censor their thoughts? Their Art? Their lives?

I guess my question is- why do we allow ourselves to be lead by men of this calibur? Are we so pathetic, that we cannot take power from these morons? As a US passport holder, I have to live with the shame of being from a country that is run by a dim-witted religious fanatic who can barley construct a sentence, and as my birth country, I am led by this lunatic. Why can’t I have leader I am proud of? Where is my Ho Chi Minh or Eugene Debbs? Where is my Malcom X or MLK?

Maybe it is because I am so busy living my life that I allow these men to run the very nations I love. All of these thoughts made me think of this song by John Lennon and redone by Pearl Jam to be more fitting for today. Reading these stories and hearing these men speak is just making me tired. Perhaps it is time to get more active? But how? When? With Whom? In the meantime…

I'm sick and tired of hearing things,
from uptight, short sighted, narrow minded hypocrites,
all I want is the truth,
just gimme some truth,
I've had enough of reading things,
by neurotic, psychotic, pig headed politicians,
all I want is the truth,
just give us the truth,

No short haired, yellow bellied, son of tricky Dicky is
gonna mother hubbard, soft soap me with just a pocket full of oil,
money for oil,
money for oil.

I'm sick to death of seeing things,
by tight lipped, condescending, mommy's little chauvinists,
all I want is the truth,
just gimme some truth,
I've had enough of watching scenes,
of schizophrenic, egocentric, paranoia prima donnas,
all I want is the truth,
just give us the truth,

No short haired, yellow bellied, son of tricky Dicky is
gonna mother hubbard soft soap me with just a pocket full of oil,
money for oil,
money for oil,

No short haired, yellow bellied, son of George-Porgy is
gonna mother hubbard soft soap me with just a pocket full of oil,
it's money for oil,
no blood for oil,

I'm sick to death of hearing things,
from uptight, short sighted, narrow minded hypocrites,
all I want is the truth,
just gimme some truth,
I've had enough of reading things,
by neurotic psychotic, homophobic hypocrites,
all I want is the truth,
just give us the truth,
all we want is the truth,
just give us the truth,
we can handle the truth,
just give us some truth,
share with us the truth,
we'll give you our truth.

Self-Portrait Challenge- Testosterone Injected Glamour

All right! No more pussyfooting around. Enough is enough with the make-up, the homoerotic undertones, and the barefaced sissy-ness of my last few portraits. It is time to inject this month’s glamour prompt with a bit of testosterone. I have gotten a bit soft in my life of ease, but I can’t be blamed entirely- I live with my wife, my infant daughter, and my mother. About ninety percent of the middle school staff I work with are women, and most of my regular readers here at Intrepid Flame are too. Since I've stopped drinking, the idea of getting drunk and hanging out with the boys, even though I have no real close guy friends here, doesn’t sound too appealing, so I watch Will & Grace with my wife and dance around the house with my daughter.

Because I feel that may have been connecting too comfortably with my feminine side, I decided this week to finish this month’s challenge with a little old fashion manliness. It started on Friday when a few teachers and I participated in our first game of a student run flag-football tournament. We won our first game 27-0 and I threw two TD's and caught another one. I guess I should mention that as luck would have it, our first opponents were the 8th grade girls, but hey if you’re gonna play football, you gotta be tough. This was meant to be my all-man weekend and damned if I was going to let a bunch of little girls soften me up.

After the football game, it was time for our monthly poker game with the boys. Since we are all dads now, there is not too much talk about…well whatever it is that guys talk about when they are away from the womenfolk. We burped and farted and played cards till about 2am. It was a good time, and I won a decent amount of cash. Too bad I was sick with fatigue the next day. Man, am I getting old!

This brings us to my portrait for this week. I wanted to portray as masculine a rendition of glamour as I could. I thought of the actors of the past: Cary Grant, Gregory Peck, and Humphrey Bogart. What was it that they had that made them so captivating and glamorous? I think what made these men so alluring was the fact that they were unapologetically tough, but somehow still maintained a very subtle gracefulness and vulnerability. Although they appeared to be suave, debonair, and obviously smelled great, they weren’t the type of men you would want to mess with. They could kick your ass in a bar fight, but than get to the business of taking care of the ladies.

After several weeks of hiding behind make-up and exploring the tangential points of masculinity, I decided to make this week’s portrait be all man. In order to maintain my love of gender role ambiguity, please keep in mind that while I was taking these photos I was listening to Rufus Wainwright. There is something about his music that is very glamorous. I hope I have captured the mood. So come on ladies, give it up. Are you swooning?

Self-Portrait Challenge- The Danger of Glamour and the Michael Jackson Syndrome

This week’s SPC has been a bit of an adventure. I had one idea to begin with and ended up embarking on a totally different tangent- first because my Photoshop skills are still at an amateur level, and secondly because the piece took on a life of its own. Let me walk you through the process of what I call, “The dangers of glamour and the Michael Jackson Syndrome.”

When I started this week, I was inspired by this Dove commercial, brought to my attention by Superkimbo


which I am sure many of you have already seen. I was going to write about how beauty and glamour have become synonymous and how both have become commodified in our capitalistic culture, to the point where advertising agencies and the companies they work for often dictate glamour and in-turn beauty to us.

I wanted to take a very plain picture of myself and go through the process of enhancing it so it would fit the cultural definition of glamorous and perfect. I know what you are thinking: the Imperfection prompt is long gone, but somehow trying to be glamorous comes with a sense of perfection.

I took two pictures, one just plain ole me zit and all-totally un-enhanced; then I took another shot where I tidied up a bit and opened the picture with Photoshop. I started simply by removing blemishes, smoothing out the skin, reducing some hair on my eyebrows, but then suddenly I started to shrink my ears and nose; I started to make my shoulders bigger, when suddenly I realized I had created a monster. There is a fine line between the commodifed glamour they use to sell us products and what I call Michael Jackson Syndrome.

In the digital age reality can become so tweaked as to blur the lines of what is real and manufactured. Glamour is artificial. It is designed to enchant and awe; it should be bizarre and out of the ordinary. It is dressing up and recreating who we are. The issue that worries me, and I hope this picture illustrates, is that we must separate the notion of glamour and beauty, because beauty is honest; it is pure, un-enhanced and real where as glamour is the opposite. Glamour can be fun, but we cannot continue to let the corporations dictate what beautiful is and what it is not. If we do, we may end up in a world where we all look like this:


When we really should look like this:


Note: I am a big fan of Michael Jackson’s music and not the type of person who enjoys simply making fun of the man because of his spiral into the bizarre. However, I hope it is obvious that my need to tamper with my features for this piece can fittingly be called The MJ Syndrome. Next time you make fun of the King of Pop for no other reason than it is easy, please listen to Bilie Jean, Human Nature, or anything of his Dangerous album, and give this talented artist a break.

What's Important

People complain. People complain often. I am one of those people. Life gets us down. The state of the world, the stress of everyday life, you name it, something always seems to make everybody struggle to stay happy. Today I woke up to a giggling daughter; it was sunny and hot outside in November; I got in the shower and from behind the glass doors I could see right through the window to this:

I realized I couldn’t complain about anything. It was my day off; I had worked hard all week. I had nothing to do but run some errands and take my daughter to a group sing-along called Kindermusic- where my wife and I would sing and dance with our little one in a group of ten other families.

Now as I write this, I am tried and a bit under the weather. However, as I crawl into bed at 8 pm on a Saturday night to watch a movie with my wife, I know one thing: Life is good, and more importantly I am cognizant enough to realize it. It doesn’t take much to be happy. You just have to be able to notice it when it is there.

Self-Portrait: Anti-Glam

The beautiful people, the beautiful people
It’s all relative to the size of your steeple
You can’t see the forest for the trees
You can’t smell
Your own shit on your knees
Hey you, what do you see?
Something beautiful, something free?

For week two of this month’s Glam Self-Portrait Challenge, my original plan was to create an Anti-Glam photo ala Marilyn Manson. I really respect Manson as an artist who forces people to re-examine cultural symbols: the church, beauty, gender roles, good, evil, you name the icon and Manson is tweaking, morphing, and recreating it in an original innovative fashion. I am not a huge of fan of his music, although I do like most of his songs that I have heard, but rather, I love the fact that he is constantly challenging people’s idea of what they think art is, and what is or isn’t dirty or obscene. He has an innate ability to push buttons and make people feel uncomfortable. I like that in an artist. Furthermore, he is articulate, intelligent, and down to earth when he is not in character. I have known for years that he has written a book, but I have never actually read it. After this little homage to the man, I may finally read it.

After searching for some images of Manson on the Internet, I was surprised to realize that he is actually quite beautiful. I was looking for some nasty animal-like image of him defiling our society’s concepts of beauty, and while I did find a few images of that type, I found more images of him as an androgynous, alien-like geisha, with delicate and futuristic features captivating me image after image. I guess I just feel better knowing that people like Manson exist. Something has to balance out people like John Ashcroft and Bill O’Reily right?

I don’t have much else to say this week. No story. I hope that my photo will do the talking. What started off being my Anti-Glam image has been, with the help of Marilyn Manson, transformed into my homage to Clan of the Cave Bear, meets Bjork, meets Manson, meets a mime, meets me. I hope this photo conveys the sense of freedom and pleasure one derives from covering oneself with make up on a Sunday afternoon in the name of doing something a bit weird because that is what human beings are here to do. Thank you Marilyn Manson for reminding me that no matter how routine or practical our lives may sometimes appear to be, there has to be room for things like this:

Justice?

Let me get this straight!

This guy has been sentenced to death...



...by this guy...



...for these crimes...



...which were comitted with weapons bought from these guys...



...which are made by these guys...



...in a deal brokered by this guy...



...under orders from this guy...



...then people wonder why these guys do this...



...you gotta start feeling sorry for these guys.



What a joke! Too bad that people pay with their lives while these guys masquerade as our leaders. If you have never seen this, check it out. It is a very telling story. Also here are some facts from Normon Solomon that people should know. Maybe someday the true war criminals will be brought to justice for their crimes.

On Dec. 20, 1983, the Washington Post reported that Rumsfeld "visited Iraq in what U.S. officials said was an attempt to bolster the already improving U.S. relations with that country."

Two days later, the New York Times cited a "senior American official" who "said that the United States remained ready to establish full diplomatic relations with Iraq and that it was up to the Iraqis."

On March 29, 1984, the Times reported: "American diplomats pronounce themselves satisfied with relations between Iraq and the United States and suggest that normal diplomatic ties have been restored in all but name." Washington had some goodies for Saddam's regime, the Times account noted, including "agricultural-commodity credits totaling $840 million." And while "no results of the talks have been announced" after the Rumsfeld visit to Baghdad three months earlier, "Western European diplomats assume that the United States now exchanges some intelligence on Iran with Iraq."

A few months later, on July 17, 1984, a New York Times article with a Baghdad dateline sketchily filled in a bit more information, saying that the U.S. government "granted Iraq about $2 billion in commodity credits to buy food over the last two years." The story recalled that "Donald Rumsfeld, the former Middle East special envoy, held two private meetings with the Iraqi president here," and the dispatch mentioned in passing that "State Department human rights reports have been uniformly critical of the Iraqi President, contending that he ran a police state."

Full diplomatic relations between Washington and Baghdad were restored 11 months after Rumsfeld's December 1983 visit with Saddam -- who went on to use poison gas later in the decade, actions which scarcely harmed relations with the Reagan administration.

As the most senior U.S. official to visit Iraq in six years, Rumsfeld had served as Reagan's point man for warming relations with Saddam. In 1984, the administration engineered the sale to Baghdad of 45 ostensibly civilian-use Bell 214ST helicopters. Saddam's military found them quite useful for attacking Kurdish civilians with poison gas in 1988, according to U.S. intelligence sources. "In response to the gassing," journalist Jeremy Scahill has pointed out, "sweeping sanctions were unanimously passed by the U.S. Senate that would have denied Iraq access to most U.S. technology. The measure was killed by the White House."

These are facts that the public should know about the current defense secretary of the United States.

Another article that says the same things. The question is if the people of the world know what is going on, why are we just sitting and watching it go by?

Vermont Poised to Elect America's First Socialist Senator

This is what we need more of!

Self-Portrait: Fascinatingly And Androgynously In Make Up To Enchant

Dressed me up in womens clothes
Messed around with gender roles
Dye my eyes and call me pretty

James

The flaws are finally behind us at the Self-Portrait Challenge and not a moment too soon. I was getting tired of exposing my imperfections week after week. Having said that, I am already finding this month’s theme, well, challenging. Conceptually and textually, I have several ideas I would like to cover, but visually I am not sure how to fulfill this theme for four weeks. Here is what was sent from SPC:

Lets ditch those imperfections and go all out GLAM. Yes let’s glam it up with some disco, diamonds and glitter.

My first thought was cool make-up. I am always looking for reasons to apply some lipstick and eyeliner, but then I had committed to a beard and there is nothing glamorous about a beard. I decided to shave. See how committed I am to this project. I read on:

I suggest some gorgeous shots - really over do it on the posing and makeup and dressups and show us the extrovert you. The sexy mama in the kitchen with the peek-a-boo apron or how about some diamontes on those dungarees, stilettos, feathers and lycra.

Since most participants in this challenge are women, they may find it easier to wear a peek-a-boo-apron than me. I am not even sure what that is. And if it is what I think it is, trust me, people wouldn’t want to see me in one. I kept reading:

Looking for ideas then go no further than Glam Rock as your inspiration, KISS, David Bowie, and Queen and Garry Glitter. Here we go. This is something I could work with. Or maybe this:

Glam means dressing androgynously in make up and glittery, florid costumes. Get Glam everyone!

I decided to look up glamour and see what I could find as a starting point. Here is what I found:

glam_our [glam-er] –noun
1. the quality of fascinating, alluring, or attracting, esp. by a combination of charm and good looks.
2. magic or enchantment; spell; witchery.
3. suggestive or full of glamour; glamorous: a glamour job in television; glamour stocks.
4. An air of compelling charm, romance, and excitement, especially when delusively alluring.


Ideas began to formulate in my mind, I could hear the text flow in my mind and see the images form in colors, shapes, and compositions. So without further adieu, here is my first contribution for this month’s SPC: Fascinatingly and androgynously in make up to enchant. And now the story:

When I was in the fifth grade, everytime my mother left the house, and I was alone, I would enter her room and put her some make-up, usually some lip-stick (that is when I first developed my affinity for that chalky taste that later I would appreciate on the lips of the girls I kissed), eye shadow and blush. My father and uncle were photographers and I had spent much of my youth in front of a camera, and around girls aspiring to be models and the Barbazon School. Even at a young age, I understood the mirage that was glamour photography. It was like wearing a mask and becoming someone else.

In addition, the feeling of doing something that felt wrong was exhilarating. I loved the escape the make-up allowed. I wasn’t sure why I felt a bit ashamed in those days, but I knew that I liked the feeling. Like any kid growing up in the eighties, I was an MTV addict. I watched the same twenty videos repeatedly, and all the men on the screen were wearing make-up, so why did I feel so enticingly guilty. Perhaps it was because of the knowledge that society had established arbitrary gender roles that allowed me to take such pleasure in flouting them even as a ten-year-old child. No one was going to tell me I shouldn’t be wearing make-up.

As I grew older, I became more inhibited and ashamed of my little secret; I started to have a better understanding of what the world expected of boys, and those expectations didn’t seem to match up with the things I expected from myself.

Although all my favorite bands were wearing make-up: The Cure, Depeche Mode, and The Smiths, I had started to feel the creeping effects of our homophobic society. Even admitting to liking those bands seemed to imply, at worst, “I am gay” or at best, “ I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.” I think once we hit puberty, it becomes the main goal of every teenage boy to prove to everyone that we are not gay. Homosexuality becomes the worst thing a boy could be. This homophobia stayed with me, even years after I was secure with my sexuality. Even in college, my friends and I referred to negative ideas as gay or called each other fags. It wasn’t until I moved to San Francisco and New York and started to work with many homosexuals that I realized how ingrained homophobia is in American culture. I finally started to understand how it had even ingrained itself in my language. I soon learned that homosexuality was a dynamic, exciting, and important aspect of our culture. I no longer had to prove that I wasn’t gay. I could finally admit when I thought a man was handsome and not worry that I would be labeled a queer, because being a homosexual was no longer a bad thing. I was no longer worried if people thought I was gay because I liked to wear woman’s shirts, or liked decorating, or cried when I was emotional. I actually started to consider being thought of as gay as a compliment. Because most of the homosexuals I knew were much more interesting, artistic, and happy than my straight friends.

As a straight kid who liked to wear make-up and pretend he was Robert Smith, I have become a man who still loves the enchantment that make-up allows. I like to wear pink, I watch decorating shows on TV and try and to fulfill as many of the other arbitrary homophobic sign posts for being gay, because I like to prove that they are ridiculous. I will not allow outdated conservative ignorance dictate who I can and cannot be, because of my gender. Through out the years many of my heroes have remained men in make up: Perry Farrell, Dave Navarro, Marilyn Manson, the list is endless. They are men who are not afraid to be themselves and fulfill their dreams. They have not been shackled by the grip of this ignorant conservatism. They are free. I choose to do the same.

This last Sunday, it felt strange to lock myself in my room and apply make-up. I still felt a bit ashamed, although I knew there was nothing wrong with what I was doing. I tried to let the moment take me, but I realized how hard applying make can be. I had no idea what I was doing. Instead of looking glamorous, I felt unnatural and a bit freakish. Perhaps my post puberty facial hair and huge nose make it hard to become graceful and beautiful, or perhaps I am a good enough photographer to create the facade to enchant you. You decide. This is one of my favorite shots so far.


Some of the people who have recently subscribed to my blog from Feedblitz have complained that they cannot see the photos when they receive the text. This may be due to your browser; if you are using Safari try Fire Fox or Internet Explorer. Or simply go to the actual blog to see the photos.

Countries Visted

I was on a friend’s blog today when I ran across this fun little site. I have always been obsessed with maps and traveling, so I thought I‘d give it a try. My friend talked about going to 30 countries by the time she turns 30. I have been to twenty-three nations, which isn’t bad I suppose seeing that something like 70% of Americans have never the left the states! I did not make the 30 by 30, but my plan is to simply try and hit as many of 193 counties that I can before I die. For now, there is a gaping blank space in South America that needs to be remedied soon.

At 32 here is my list:

1. United States
2. Costa Rica
3. Dominican Republic
4. Mexico
5. Angola
6. Malawi
7. Mauritius
8. Mozambique
9. South Africa
10. Swaziland
11. Zimbabwe
12. Denmark
13. France
14. Netherlands
15. Sweden
16. Switzerland
17. United Kingdom
18. Iran
19. Indonesia
20. Laos
21. Malaysia
22. Singapore
23. Vietnam


create your own visited countries map

Because I am so often labeled as “Anti-American” I also wanted to show how I have traversed this beautiful land of ours. Here are the states I have either visited or at least driven through. Trust me, you would not want to stay in some of these places. I only wish the states could have been highlighted in blue.

Tell The Children The Truth

I arrived at work today, and like I do every morning, I began my day by reading a few articles before I started my prepping and teaching. I am lucky because I work at a private international school. I have my own Mac (albeit a bit outdated) computer. I have music playing, a few sofas and plants in my classroom. The kids are little angles that cower under a stern voice or sideward glance. This Shangri La I now experience is not where I started my career in education. I started teaching at a local school in Mozambique. At one point, I was teaching 48 kids under a tree with only a piece of chalk and a cracked, portable chalkboard. I then moved to teach in the Bronx, which was surprisingly more difficult, because of the constant fights, lack of security, and overall degeneration of the NYC school system.

But this post is not meant to be about my trials and tribulations in teaching. It is about one of the best articles I have read in a long time. It is by Bill Moyers, a man I am learning to respect more and more everyday. In this speech he made to teachers in San Diego, Moyers not only exposes some of the glaring ailments of the US educational system, but he goes deeper to expose that the problems of America are based in class and an ineffectve system of capitalism that no one seems to want to acknowledge.

He very accurately states, “Over the last 30 years a disciplined, well-funded and closely-coordinated coalition of corporate elites, power-hungry religious conservatives, and hard-line right-wing operatives has mounted an aggressive drive to dismantle the public foundations and philosophy of shared prosperity and fairness in America.”

The article is long and dense and vital to our democracy. I urge everyone to please take some time to sit and read it carefully. Then please comment here on this blog about what to do next; for those of you with whom I am debating the merits of the Democratic Party, please note that he rarely makes this a bi-partisan issue, so please don't say that we must go out and vote for a Democrat! The problems of America are not based on Capitol Hill, they are drenched in the corrosive effects of a capitalist system perpetuated by greed. The entire system stinks. I hope this article highlights what i am talking about. I have selected a few passages from the speech to whet your appetite, so enjoy!

Let’s be honest about what we mean by “urban education.” We are talking about the poorest and most vulnerable children in America – kids for whom “at risk” has come to describe their fate and not simply their circumstances.

Their education should be the centerpiece of a great and diverse America made stronger by equality and shared prosperity. It has instead become the epitome of public neglect, perpetuated by a class divide so permeated by race that it mocks the bedrock principles of the American Promise.A nation that devalues poor children also demeans their teachers. For the life of me I cannot fathom why we expect so much from teachers and provide them so little in return.

In 1940, the average pay of a male teacher was actually 3.6 percent more than what other college-educated men earned. Today it is 60 percent lower. Women teachers now earn 16 percent less than other college-educated women. This bewilders me.

If you are wondering if I often feel a strangling sense of guilt for teaching rich kids instead of the ones who really "need" me, I do. But I have justified it to myself by saying that education needs to be effective in all classes. So when Moyers says,

Teach your kids they don’t have to accept what they have been handed. Teach them they are not only equal citizens under the law, but equal sons and daughters – heirs, everyone – of that revolution, and that it is their right to claim it as their own. Teach them to shake the torpor that has been prescribed for them by calculating elders and ideologues. Teach them there is only one force strong enough to counter the power of organized money today, and that is the power of organized people. They are waiting for this message; the kids in your schools have been made to feel as victims, powerless, ashamed, inferior, and disenfranchised. Tell them it’s a great big lie – despite their poverty, circumstance, and the long odds they’ve been handed, they have the power to make the world over again, in their image.

I feel it is just as important to teach the other side that,

...they shouldn’t accept what they have been handed. Teach them that there are others in the world who are not only equal citizens under the law, but equal sons and daughters – heirs, everyone – of our revolutions, and that it is their right to claim it as their own. Teach them to question the torpor that has been afforded them by calculating elders and ideologues. Teach them there is only one force strong enough to counter the power of organized money today, and that is the power of organized people. And if they are not careful, they may be on the other end of a populace revolution. They need this message; the kids in my school have been made to feel that they are immune to feeling powerless, ashamed, inferior, and disenfranchised. Tell them it’s a great big lie – despite their money, circumstance, and the easy life they’ve been handed, they have the obligation to make the world a more equal place.

You see children are not born money grubbing CEOs of major global corporations. They learn these skills in schools, designed to turn out the next generation of “global powerbrokers.” If as teachers, however, we feel it is out duty to help educate the next generation of young people to help us build a sustainable, peaceful world, we must teach as many kids, from as many different countries, classes, and races as possible.

Speaking of work, I need to get to some of mine that is piling up on my desk. I start teaching Ann Frank next week, and there is a lot to prepare for.

Here is the article in full.

Coincidently, as I was reading this article, I was listing to a little Bob Marley and this song seemed strangely apropos. So if you have it, play it as you read: (Every year I do a small unit on music appreciation and the power of lyrics to shape the world. I use songs by Tupac, Bob Dylan, The Clash and more. Babylon System has proven to be a favorite from Mozambique, to The Bronx, and now here in Asia. I guess kids like the idea of being told the truth, and then told to rebel. Thank god someone does!)

We refuse to be
What you wanted us to be;
We are what we are:
That's the way (way) it's going to be. If you don't know!
You can't educate I
For no equal opportunity:
(Talkin' 'bout my freedom) Talkin' 'bout my freedom,
People freedom (freedom) and liberty!
Yeah, we've been trodding on the winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!
Yes, we've been trodding on the winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!

Babylon system is the vampire, yea! (vampire)
Suckin' the children day by day, yeah!
Me say: de Babylon system is the vampire, falling empire,
Suckin' the blood of the sufferers, yea-ea-ea-ea-e-ah!
Building church and university, wo-o-ooh, yeah! -
Deceiving the people continually, yea-ea!
Me say them graduatin' thieves and murderers;
Look out now: they suckin' the blood of the sufferers (sufferers).
Yea-ea-ea! (sufferers)

Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth right now!
Come on and tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Tell the children the truth;
Come on and tell the children the truth.

'Cause - 'cause we've been trodding on ya winepress much too long:
Rebel, rebel!
And we've been taken for granted much too long:
Rebel, rebel now!

(Trodding on the winepress) Trodding on the winepress (rebel):
got to rebel, y'all (rebel)!
We've been trodding on the winepress much too long - ye-e-ah! (rebel)
Yea-e-ah! (rebel) Yeah! Yeah!

From the very day we left the shores (trodding on the winepress)
Of our Father's land (rebel),
We've been trampled on (rebel),
Oh now! (we've been oppressed, yeah!) Lord, Lord, go to