Two hundred thirty six years ago today (April 19, 1775) a shot heard round the world echoed from Lexington Green and began the American Revolution - a war that demonstrated how ordinary people could overcome extraordinary odds with enough faith in and passion for their cause. While many people despair for the American ideal, I like to think those patriots would still recognize our country today. Yes, there are plenty of people here who don't do the right thing - but that has been true of every time and place in history. Yes, there are corrupt politicians who make decisions to line their pockets rather than protect the people they represent - but that, too, is nothing new. The idea that seems to be buried under all the forlorn, woe-is-me jeremiads is that we can still make a difference, even when the deck is stacked against us.
This very week my department is reeling from reduction in force (RIF) layoffs which mean six people at my school won't have a job in our district next year (two from the RIF process and four more on exclusionary contracts). There are about 21 teachers on the RIF list district-wide, but the ripple effect is much larger. At first glance, it doesn't seem like anyone can do much about this. Today my own boss advised me to "stop stressing over things you can't control." As I mulled these words, it occurred to me that many things in the world are beyond my reckoning - death, disease, famine. But standing up for a colleague is not.
On one hand, I agree that I can't singlehandedly reverse the district's decision, but there are other things I can do - things my boss would probably consider frivolous and futile. First, I listened to my colleagues rale against the political machinations of our legislature that made the cuts necessary. Then, I encouraged them to complete an appeal with the aid of our collective bargaining representatives and helped them figure out grounds for their respective claims. Next, I held their hands while they came to terms with the situation and even held a teacher in my arms as she (literally) sobbed on my shoulder when she learned her job was cut. Perhaps most importantly, I continue to be a squeaky wheel. I have voiced my displeasure with the process and the immunity some people were given to everyone who would listen - admin., my boss, the union rep, other teachers (who are - in turn - also voicing their disapproval). I'm making phone calls, asking questions, and helping these people - who are walking around in shock - to figure out what comes next. See, in my heart of hearts I cannot accept that I'm powerless here. I cannot accept that a few people who are willing to stand up for what is right won't be heard. I know - I'm 46 years old and still idealistic. Did I mention I'm a teacher?
Right now, I'm fighting for my little corner of the world. But, imagine if we all showed up on the town square and said "no more" to the bullies who run our cities, states, and country. Imagine what we could accomplish. The men and boys on Lexington Common probably didn't intend to start a revolution, but they did intend to defend their place in the sun from a government that sought to enslave them by micromanaging their affairs and taxing them to death. Sound familiar? What are you going to do about it?
This very week my department is reeling from reduction in force (RIF) layoffs which mean six people at my school won't have a job in our district next year (two from the RIF process and four more on exclusionary contracts). There are about 21 teachers on the RIF list district-wide, but the ripple effect is much larger. At first glance, it doesn't seem like anyone can do much about this. Today my own boss advised me to "stop stressing over things you can't control." As I mulled these words, it occurred to me that many things in the world are beyond my reckoning - death, disease, famine. But standing up for a colleague is not.
On one hand, I agree that I can't singlehandedly reverse the district's decision, but there are other things I can do - things my boss would probably consider frivolous and futile. First, I listened to my colleagues rale against the political machinations of our legislature that made the cuts necessary. Then, I encouraged them to complete an appeal with the aid of our collective bargaining representatives and helped them figure out grounds for their respective claims. Next, I held their hands while they came to terms with the situation and even held a teacher in my arms as she (literally) sobbed on my shoulder when she learned her job was cut. Perhaps most importantly, I continue to be a squeaky wheel. I have voiced my displeasure with the process and the immunity some people were given to everyone who would listen - admin., my boss, the union rep, other teachers (who are - in turn - also voicing their disapproval). I'm making phone calls, asking questions, and helping these people - who are walking around in shock - to figure out what comes next. See, in my heart of hearts I cannot accept that I'm powerless here. I cannot accept that a few people who are willing to stand up for what is right won't be heard. I know - I'm 46 years old and still idealistic. Did I mention I'm a teacher?
Right now, I'm fighting for my little corner of the world. But, imagine if we all showed up on the town square and said "no more" to the bullies who run our cities, states, and country. Imagine what we could accomplish. The men and boys on Lexington Common probably didn't intend to start a revolution, but they did intend to defend their place in the sun from a government that sought to enslave them by micromanaging their affairs and taxing them to death. Sound familiar? What are you going to do about it?
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