Your Spring Break Read!

Spring break is almost here, even though the weather outside is still frightful. And the College of Ed wants to give YOU a break from all your required reading!

Back in December, we interviewed Molly O’Neill, a 2000 graduate of the College of Education who has worked at Harper Collins and is now employed at Storybird. While at Harper Collins, Molly edited the bestselling Divergent trilogy which is now coming to the big screen on March 21st.

In case you missed it, here’s our Q&A with Molly. It’s a great read — and shows how a Marquette education really prepares you for a variety of professions.

But it gets better!  The College of Ed has five more copies of Divergent to give away. You have until midnight tonight (Tuesday, March 4, 2014), to leave a comment on this post. You can tell us if you’re going to see the movie or what your plans are for break! We’ll randomly select five people from all posted comments, and winners can pick up their copy of the book in SC 146 tomorrow! Check back for more giveaways of the second book in the series, Insurgent, the week of March 17th and just in time for

Good luck and enjoy your break!

Facebook, Cheese Whiz, My Husband and other such things

By Claudia Felske — Cheese Whiz? TMZ? Farmville? Justin Bieber?

Any shameful indulgences you’re not particularly proud of? Any guilty pleasure you’d like precisely no one else to know about?

Three weeks ago a secret sin of mine was revealed to the greater Facebook community by none other than the man I married. That was the day I quit Facebook.

Those in my world know me as an English teacher, as a reader, a writer, a lover of words. I watch very little television, read whenever possible, and accuse most mass media of numbing the American mind.

Yet there I was that Wednesday night, doing schoolwork on my laptop while Nashville, a nighttime soap opera set in the country music scene, played in the background. It was then that my husband walked in.

This was not the woman he had married.

He stared at me in disbelief and grabbed his iPhone. “I cannot believe what my wife is watching,” he typed and said aloud at the same time. His salacious post inspired much speculation from our Facebook friends. The Kardashians? Barney? Polyamory? Home Shopping Network?

“Stop right now,” I warned him, carefully articulating each word and never losing eye contact.

But he didn’t.

Humorous Facebook comments from others followed, calling me out for my hypocrisy: “This from the queen of high  culture?” “Does this mean we can listen to country music during our English department meetings?”

“GET OUT NOW,” another warned, “first Nashville, next NASCAR, then Monster Trucks.”

I was not as amused as they were. Watching a country soap opera was not a badge I cared to wear. It was a mindless diversion, an escape, a stress ball for the eyes.  It was my guilty pleasure. I neither desired nor appreciated public commentary about it.

What followed was at once immature and life changing.

First, the immature part: My final Facebook post was “I just unfriended Mike Felske.”

I immediately hated that post. For its rudeness, its pettiness, its association in any and every way with me. I then decided I would, at once, return to the practice of using words for meaningful and beautiful purposes, period. And that, for me, meant no more Facebook.

The more I thought about what had just happened, the stranger it seemed.

Strange to unfriend my best friend, unfriend the one person I this world I willingly and enthusiastically agreed to spend my life with.

Strange that social media somehow compelled my soulmate to reveal something to the world that I had expressly asked him not to.

Strange that I would willingly partake in Facebook, that which I now viewed as a vainglorious middle schoolesque platform, often spending 30 minutes or more on it per day.

Strangest of all that I cared about any of this.

So amid all of these strangenesses, I quit.

(That’s the life changing part).

Three weeks later, here’s my report on being Facebook-free:

1. I’m more productive: I no longer begin my laptop work sessions with a time-draining cruise down Facebook lane. After a quick email check, I get right to work.
2. I’m more present: If I’m enjoying an amazing meal, I don’t feel compelled to tell anyone other than the person across the table from me. If my son says something hilarious, I laugh and stay fully in the moment with him instead of documenting it on Facebook.
3. I’m more observant: I find myself noticing others’ cell phone behavior as deviant and anti-social. Facebook frequenters now strike me as willfully inviting a certain freneticism into their lives. Three weeks ago, that was me.

You may, Dear Reader, be asking yourself at this point what any of this has to do with education. This is an educational blog, right? Good point. So here it is: educational relevance.

I’d like to challenge my Facebook-using students and colleagues to ask themselves this question and answer with candor:

Why do you use Facebook?

Is it to avoid your to do list? Is it to gain approval? Is it to exercise your self-righteousness? Is it for self-affirmation? Vanity? Do you feel deflated if a post of yours receives few likes or none? Do you spend 20, 30, 60, 90 minutes or more on Facebook per day? Is the something else more productive or rewarding you could do with that time? Wish you had more time to read, to play with your kids, to exercise? Do you find yourself documenting your life instead of fully experiencing it?

If you don’t like one or more of your answers, give serious consideration to whether stay or leave the Face Place.

If we, as educators, are trying to model authentic experiences, self empowerment, and a strong work ethic and focus, perhaps we could all stand a reexamination of Facebook’s value (or lack thereof) in our lives.

What is the quality, after all, of our Facebook communications?  What is the quality of our Facebook friendships?  Exactly two (of several hundred FB friends) have contacted me to see if and why I quit (I posted no formal farewell). Only a few more asked my husband of my whereabouts. This suggests what I’d always suspected: most Facebook friendships are superficial: “friends” who are happy to comment if I post, but otherwise I’m off their radar.

At the end of the day, If you don’t document the sushi you’re eating, is it any less delicious? If you don’t post your child’s silver medal in gymnastics, is it a lesser achievement? Are there more authentic ways for us to feel “liked” and connected than a Facebook post?

Note: For my earlier Facebook quandaries, see my March 2002 post To Friend or Not to Friend: Teachers and Social Media.

Learning in Unconventional Situations and Unorthodox Environments

By Aubrey Murtha – I recently rediscovered this personal narrative that I wrote last year—my admissions essay for Marquette University.

After a second glance, I think it contains an important point about cherishing unconventional learning opportunities, taking advantage of moments to broaden practical knowledge and the scope of one’s perspective, and reveling in authentic exploration.  Last year, I became obsessed with the idea that many of the greatest lessons that we learn are those that extend far beyond the walls of a school building.

Thus, this essay was born:

While Dad strolls casually alongside the realtor, he peers through the lenses of his shiny UVA/UVB refracting sunglasses and drills the poor guy with a series of complex questions.  Aidan, oblivious to the technical aspects of purchasing a home, scurries about the shore in search of critters, dragging Jake along with her. Mom captures the attention of Alivia and me and repeatedly insists that the sun’s recent emergence from the hazy clouds is a sign, a sign that we finally found the lake property destined to belong to the Murtha family.  That after nearly twelve years of open houses, small talk with realtors, and failed attempts to make it work financially for our family, we discovered the two bedroom, one bath, majestic woodland bungalow that would make all of our fervent efforts worthwhile.

Ha!  Yeah right.

Sounds like a typical Murtha day trip to yet another lake—because, whenever the conditions seem appropriate to pack up the kids and head north, Mom and Dad take advantage of the opportunity.  Whether it is to investigate an appealing property that is currently for sale, check out one of the few lakes we have yet to visit, or meet with a realtor, a road trip to the north woods always seems a fitting way to spend the day.

One might think that we Murthas have been wasting our time, energy, and precious hopes and dreams on a seemingly fruitless search for a lake cottage, but, in reality, I have gained something far more valuable than any property.  Sure, I have learned how to evaluate water clarity and determine the quality of a shoreline.  I can list common invasive species, am able to discuss fishing licenses, installing piers, and public boating access, and know how to determine silt from sand and bass from bluegill.  I have even picked up a rather extensive repertoire of knowledge pertaining to real estate and the housing market.

But, most importantly, I have the opportunity to bond with my family regularly over greasy meals and A&W root beer from smoky sports bars and local holes in the wall as we scour nearly every region of northern Wisconsin’s lake country.  Countless hours in the minivan initially proved an annoyance as shoddy cell phone service and forgotten battery chargers prevented us kids from hiding behind our electronic devices, but we soon grew grateful for the time to unplug and to embrace each other’s company through noisy car games, animated discussion, and foolish antics.

I credit my family’s quest for a lake property for enabling me to grasp the importance and beauty of the search, instead of always seeking immediate gratification.  I know now that we may never find the majestic woodland bungalow of our dreams, but I have learned to appreciate the simplicity and worth of the expedition, instead of expecting material fulfillment.  I plan to carry this valuable lesson with me to your university, as it is truly important to pursue every opportunity to explore my passions and curiosities and to cherish the whole educational process, rather than solely aiming for a degree.

And there you have it!  Learning in unconventional situations and unorthodox environments!  Also, I’d like to point out that we have since purchased our lake home.  I will be forever grateful for our search, and let the learning continue during this next phase of our lives.

Now What, MPS?

By Bill Henk – Truth be told, the recent news that Superintendent Gregory Thornton would be leaving our  Milwaukee Public Schools didn’t come as a shock to me.  The prospect has been floating for some time now.  Every so often, news of his imminent departure would surface, but until now, none of the prospects came to fruition.

As it turns out, once all the i’s have been dotted and the t’s crossed, Dr. Thornton will be, in the vernacular of LeBron James, “taking his talents” to the Baltimore City Public Schools.  It also turns out that I know a fair amount about his new district, because I’m a regular reader of Nick McDaniels, a teacher in the system and a terrific, longtime alumni blogger for the Marquette Educator.   As a result, neither was I surprised to see Nick devote his most current post to his soon-to-be CEO in the form of an open letter.  Very good reading.  Check it out.

From my standpoint, it’s hard to know with certainty what it was about Dr. Thornton’s MPS role that caused him to entertain leaving, or what it might have been about the Baltimore position that he found appealing.  The reasons could have been professional, personal, or both.  I have my suspicions, but that’s all they are.  In the end, it doesn’t really matter.  Speculation gets us almost nowhere.

The bottom line is that the district needs to start preparing right away for its future, one  that doesn’t include the passionate and skilled  leadership Greg Thornton tried to provide.  Although his stint fell short of perfect, in my view there’s no denying that it was solid.  As urban educators go, he’s a very good one.

Consequently, I’m sorry to see my education colleague and personal acquaintance go.  In saying why, I’ll try not to make this post sound like an obituary since he’s still on the job here.

Let me first say that Greg tried very hard, and he genuinely cares about kids.  He endured a steady stream of political pressure with more grace than I could ever have mustered.  Through it all he remained optimistic and spirited publicly, and that is important because those who toil in urban school districts need their leaders to instill hope.  On his watch, he also made some very big and important decisions, and he did his best, limitations notwithstanding, to take the district along a road of systemic educational reform.  No small feat in any city, mind you.

Some notable progress occurred although not at a pace that any of us, including him, found sufficiently satisfying.  The challenges to the district, rooted primarily in poverty, are formidable and seemingly intractable, albeit not impossible to overcome if we get things right – whatever that means. No doubt I’ll weigh in on that count in the future, but frankly I need to think more about what needs to occur.  Sadly, based upon past experience, I’m more prepared to say what I hope will not happen.

For what it’s worth, the first wind I got of the exodus left me numb.  My initial thoughts centered  on what this development might mean for MPS students, not to mention their families, teachers, and principals, as well as the central office staff.  But soon afterward, my thinking turned to dread over what lies ahead.  For all intents and purposes, Dr. Thornton’s exit amounts to starting all over, not so much pragmatically as politically.  Such a setback would be bad enough pretty much any time, but it’s especially regrettable given the sense of urgency we should all feel to help kids achieve and prosper broadly in short order.

Fact is, I vividly remember what it was like as the last superintendent’s search unfolded, because it coincided with my first efforts as a blogger.  It was the topic of a number of my posts back then, because it gave me plenty to write about.  But in the best interests of the district, I wish in hindsight that I wouldn’t have had such a rich and fertile topic.  For instance, the debates over the governance of the district were relentless and very divisive, and watching the search process play out in the media qualified as painful.  Nearly everything became politicized, and unfortunately, we are about to enter “here we go again” mode.  Feeding frenzies of one kind or another will soon be upon us I’m afraid.  That’s what happens when you have lots of stakeholders with disparate beliefs.

Either way, right now I’m just left with questions, and I’ll close by sharing the most vital among them:

• How does the district need to adapt in order to serve our school children as well as possible?
• When will new leadership be in place to orchestrate these changes?
• What direction will the district go with the next superintendent?
• Where will energies and resources be directed?  And last, but not least…
• Who will that leader be?

Loving Your Practicum

By Christie Hyland– I’ve heard the horror stories before.

I didn’t like where I did my practicum.

This worry hung over my head as I sorted through openings and applied to various sites last semester. What if I didn’t like where I ended up? What if it’s not a good fit for me?

Luckily for me, I ended up at my top choice. I am at the Behavior Clinic at Penfield Children’s Center where we provide treatment to children five years and younger who are experiencing behavioral or emotional problems. The children who receive our services may be having temper tantrums, aggressive behavior, problems at daycare or school, and problems eating and sleeping, as well as other concerns. The treatment is quite unique in that it targets very young children (under 5), includes in-home therapy and is family-centered. What makes the Behavior Clinic so unique is exactly what I love about it.

It’s great to work with a program whose philosophy relates so closely to mine. The theories it is based on and the approach to treatment relate to my own philosophy of human development and effective psychological change. The treatment targets both the parent and the child, which I believe is more effective than treating the child alone. The program is often utilized by low-income, single mothers, a demographic who traditionally have limited access to mental health services. I believe it is important for all people to have access to quality mental health care, and the Behavior Clinic is making that a possibility for parents of young children with psychological problems in Milwaukee.

I feel fortunate that I am completing my practicum at a site that is a great match to my own beliefs about counseling; I am truly passionate about the work we do there. In addition, I am learning from some great counselors and an awesome supervisor. Soon I will be counseling myself. While that thought is a little scary right now, I know that this practicum experience will prepare me to be an effective counselor.

Welcome to Baltimore, Dr. Gregory Thornton

By Nick McDaniels – Allow me to be the thousandth (give or take) person to welcome Dr. Thornton, former MPS Superintendent, to Baltimore City Schools.

I made a similar journey about five years ago, though at about a quarter of the salary. Here’s what you have waiting for you in your out-of-the-frying-pan and into-the-fire transition to the east coast from the fresh coast, Dr. Thornton:

1. You will now be referred to as Chief Executive Officer and will hold court with what you will know as assistant superintendents, but here respectfully (or sometimes mockingly) called the chiefs.
2. You will lead a district almost the same size as Milwaukee (Baltimore is about six thousand students larger), with similar demographics.
3. You will inherit a district marred by nearly seven years of student discipline reform that has left teachers injured and many schools less safe (though suspension rates paradoxically dropping) (See this gem of investigative reporting from the Baltimore Sun)
4. You will inherit a teacher contract that is controversial, divisive, and proving impossible to fully implement.
5. You will be involved in negotiating a para-professional and secretary contract that expires soon.
6. You will inherit one of the largest school construction plans known to humankind that will bring new schools and better learning environments for Baltimore’s students over the next ten years.
7. You will have to deal with the fact that 3 well-timed inches of snow may cause you to close schools.
8. You will have to supervise a massive influx of under-certified teachers as alternative-cert programs rapidly expand in Baltimore.
9. You will get to oversee the implementation of a new teacher evaluation structure, tied to state law, tied to Race-to-the-Top, tied to PARCC, tied to Common Core, and tied to very little academic research.
10. You will inherit a student-body, “84,000 Great Kids,” who most often than not deserve the title “great kids” and have great potential if you can find a way to keep a system that has failed them for so long from continuing to do so.

Here’s the thing though, and why I am excited for you, Dr. Thornton, to come to Baltimore: You seem to be just the person for the job, someone with great experience in education, someone who has risen through the ranks when no one seems to any more, someone excited to challenge a community to rally around its kids, someone with a education-centered vision, not a management-centered vision. This is just the pendular shift we need in leadership.

So prove me right. Come here prepared to stand up to a school board that doesn’t always have the best interests of children in mind, to a mayor and city council who also don’t very well advocate for kids, and to the long line of skeptics waiting for you to fail. Help right the ship where it has strayed and help sustain the progress where it has been made. If you are here to support children, not simply to hold the line for corporate education reformers, you have my support. Welcome to Charm City.

How Do You Use Your Power? Thoughts from a first year school counselor

By Sabrina Bong – While at the Wisconsin School Counselor Association (WSCA) conference this past week, I was inspired by the words of wisdom from our keynote speaker, Jamie Vollmer.

Vollmer, an advocate for public schools, began his speech with this question: “How are you using the power you have? Because every single person in this room has power, but it all comes down to how you use it.”

All of us were silent as we pondered this question. Maybe some people came up with an answer. I, however, continued to think about this question through the rest of Vollmer’s upbeat, thought-provoking speech. (Side note: if you ever have a chance to hear Vollmer speak, please do so. It will change how you view public education.)

As a new school counselor, this whole concept of power is something that both terrifies and elates me. When I was in grad school, we spent a lot of time talking about how we are catalysts for change. We are advocates for students who have no voice. In my job, I know that I am sometimes the only voice these students have. I do what I can to stand up for them. I give them advice, help them make safety plans, and do my best to keep them safe at school. At the same time, there are days when I feel as though I am completely powerless. This is especially true when I hear about my students experiencing situations that they should never have to deal with: parental drug use, abuse, the death of a parent or sibling.

I hate those days when I feel powerless, because then I worry about what will happen to my students at the end of the school day. Sure, I did everything in my power to help them, but was it enough? Did I really help them? Is me listening to them enough?

As I was walking to my first session after Vollmer’s speech, I got a text from a friend of mine: “How is work?” I responded that I was at a conference, and then asked her the same question Vollmer had posed to me, “How are you using the power you have?” Her response was as follows:

Sometimes, power isn’t about everything going your way. Sometimes, power is empowering others. That’s just as powerful. You can teach others how to help themselves, or how to ask for help. That’s power right there.

Her words really hit me. Empowering others can be a form of power, even if it’s more indirect. I may not always be able to get my students out of a home environment that I feel is toxic; however, I can listen to them and provide them with resources. I can continue to reassure them that I am always there for them. My most popular phrase recently has been “Just because your parents do this DOES NOT mean that you will follow that same path.” That phrase reminds my students that they are in control of their destiny.

I have written Vollmer’s question down on a notecard and taped it to my computer at work. I hope it is a reminder to me about why I do what I do. I hope it reminds me that I am changing students’ lives. And ultimately, I hope it reminds me that power, however you use it, will always make a difference.