Author / nflanagan

Unknown's avatar

Posts by nflanagan

Nancy Flanagan is an education writer and consultant focusing on teacher leadership. She spent 30 years in a K-12 music classroom in Hartland, Mich, and was named Michigan Teacher of the Year in 1993. She is National Board-certified, and a member of the Teacher Leaders Network. She divides her time between wondering how things got so messed up and dreaming up ways to re-energize America's best idea--a free, high-quality education for every child.
by nflanagan

Oh, Canada!*

We went to see Come From Away this week, at the Stephenson Theatre, part of the Phoenix Art Museum complex. It’s a show I’ve wanted to see for some time, recommended by friends and—well, it’s a musical. It was stunningly good, a show about the 38 planes stranded in Gander, Newfoundland, diverted there after 9/11—and the resonant after-effects of the good care Gander gave to nearly 7000 bedraggled and frightened strangers for five days.

We arrived early enough to have a glass of wine in the crowded lobby. There were no empty tables, but a table for eight had a couple of empty stools—and a “May we join you?” drew a nod. There were two couples, the women dressed in Scottsdale Expensive and the men in those slippery golf shirts. Like pretty much everyone there, to see the matinee, they were clearly retirees—and they were talking about the State of the Union address.

“Best State of the Union speech ever! Absolutely inspiring!” said striped golf shirt. His wife chimed in with “I loved it when he really gave it to the Democrats. They deserve it.” White golf shirt added—“And then, when he recognized the Olympic Hockey Team…well, USA! USA! And when he gave the goalie the Presidential medal that just made my day…”

It was noisy in the lobby and the foursome turned to other topics, but I was bemused. I am used to thinking that Trump enthusiasts fit certain stereotypes—the kinds of people you see Jordan Klepper interviewing. The MAGAverse. Not people who paid good money to see a joyful musical about… the kindness of Canadians, on what was arguably the worst day in American history.

The show was great—you could actually hear people in the audience (OK, me too) sobbing near the end. See it somewhere, if you can. It’s a celebration of how human beings across the globe can rise to nearly any occasion, with humor and grace.

You’d think, if bus drivers and schoolteachers and shopkeepers in Newfoundland can open their hearts and homes to the world, our president could occasionally show some class, rather than sending out an AI video putting ugly, nationalistic words into the mouth of Arizonan and Olympian Brady Tkachuk– who plays for the Ottawa Senators.

But no. In fact, the American government has used the Olympics, theoretically another opportunity to rise to human greatness, to embarrass us with sexist comments, wasted resources, and 40 sport utility vehicles clogging ancient streets in Milan.

Doesn’t matter how many medals we win, when our government—NOTE: not our Olympians—humiliates us on the world stage. Again.

I have lived in Michigan all my life, and know that, until recently, most Michiganders didn’t even think of Canada as a foreign country. You can see Canada, right over the Detroit River—and trips to Windsor (drinking age: 19) were a kind of rite of passage for kids who grew up in the area, for better or worse.

When I was in college, moving to Canada to escape the draft was a real thing. I have friends who live in Windsor, and teach in Detroit—and last year, there were joint Detroit-Windsor cross-river rallies protesting the Trump presidency

Now, that same president is trying to keep us apart by shutting down a new, $4 billion bridge, because—well, because of vindictiveness and grift. Why else?

I guess winning a gold medal in hockey—men’s hockey, anyway—was a juicy, easy-to-understand soundbite-level platform for a corrupt government to use as incentive to praise manly American victors by giving them some hamburgers and inviting them to be on TV. As Steven Beschloss says:

“That same evening, most of the members of the gold-medal-winning men’s U.S. hockey team tarnished their achievement and its power to unify the nation by attending the [SOTU] speech as Trump’s guests after meeting him earlier in the day at the White House. Their participation signals support for his lawless authoritarian regime, be it consciously or foolishly. (It should be noted that five players chose not to attend, including four who were born or grew up in Minnesota. Likewise, the gold medal-winning women’s hockey team declined an invitation.)

We are not living in normal times.”

Understatement of the year. And now, we’ve alienated all our allies—the ones who invoked Article 5 after 9/11 on our behalf– and sent our military to blow up schools in Iran.

Thanks, Canada. Hope we can be friends again. Soon. Very soon.

*BTW, I do know the national anthem is O—not Oh– Canada.

There are English lyrics, French lyrics, Bilingual and Indigenous citizens’ versions.

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all of us command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

by nflanagan

Gifted and Talented Redux

I got my master’s degree in gifted education—actually, a master’s in curriculum and instruction with an emphasis on identifying and serving gifted students, but whatever. At the time—the 1980s—I was focused on the ‘talented’ part, as a music teacher.

What could I do, I wondered, to better understand and challenge the exceptionally proficient students who showed up in my band room? There had only been a handful, at that time, students who leapt over my pedestrian instruction, right into credible Mozart concertos in the 6th grade, relying on recordings and (this sounds so quaint) library books about the great composers and their style characteristics.

I had many thoughtful conversations with people in my master’s classes, in my building, and fellow band directors (whose advice was generally directed toward private lessons and summer camps–the ‘better teacher/better cohort’ theory). But overall, takeaways on who was gifted and what to do about it were murky.

One person’s budding genius was another teacher’s ho-hum. A lot of it had to do with perceived student effort, and very little was about digging gifts and talents or even preferences and goals out of kids who were content to skate by.

Also, lots of kids who had exceptional natural talent in playing instruments were not so gifted in other areas, and therefore not interesting to the guy teaching Algebra II to 7th graders. Just because you can flawlessly pick up salsa rhythms with all four of your limbs or produce a crystalline high C on the trumpet doesn’t mean you’re… gifted. Or so it seemed.

I’ve written many pieces—here, here, here, here and here, for example—about giftedness. Invariably, they draw nasty comments. It’s very much a tender spot for parents of bright children who worry that their children are not being adequately challenged. Or are ignored by their teachers because so many other kids are struggling or misbehaving. I get it.

But I also know that talents and gifts are randomly distributed across school populations and have to be developed over time, with the cooperation of the identified GT student. I was struck by this quote from a spokesperson for Mayor Zohran Mamdani, reflecting on the mayoral decision not to test kindergarteners to determine who’s gifted:

This administration does not believe in G. & T. evaluation for kindergartners. But that’s not the same as eliminating advanced opportunities across all grades. 

My thoughts, precisely.

I recognize that NY City is unique—such a diverse population, so many school options, such hot politicking and parent-pleasing—but I fully agree with the mayor (or his advisor, more likely): Testing five-year olds for giftedness is ridiculous and bound to siphon off disadvantaged kids before they’ve really had a chance to, you know, go to school and learn stuff.

It’s the ultimate, rigged-end game: the outcomes of inequality, right out of the chute. Dividing the herd, yet again. Why? How does that help us?

If I had faith in any test to identify extraordinary, socially useful intelligence, skills, or creativity, I might feel differently. But I don’t. What I do believe is that all children deserve a rich and challenging education, whether a test identifies them as potentially brainy or sub-par. You just never know what role they might play, eventually, in making the world better.

Since more than half of American teens now admit to using chatbots to do “research” that they may not be able to evaluate for veracity, to write and calculate for them, it’s going to get harder and harder to distinguish students who produce genuinely brilliant work from those who are merely good at disguising where that work product originated.

We still need brilliant original work—not to feed the AI maw, but to enlighten ourselves, cure diseases, prevent wars, create peace, to explore, entertain and inspire. We need the indisputably brilliant kid who plays salsa rhythms but forgets to turn in his social studies worksheets for some reason. Because he has gifts to share.

We need a new definition of ‘gifted’—and maybe one for ‘talented’ as well. We need to stop accepting the assertion that machines are helping students learn better than human interaction and judgment. And most of all—we need to stop cutting kids off at the pass, sorting and labeling them when they’re in kindergarten.

Photo:sanbeiji (Creative Commons)

by nflanagan

Sex Education, v. 2026.0

The Michigan State Board of Education approved a new set of guidelines for sex education in Michigan public schools late last year. They heard copious commentary from the public, worked with experts, teachers and parents, and settled on a revision that included informing students—just the facts—about varying ways that humans express their sexuality and gender.

As a parent and veteran teacher, I’ve been through many iterations of sex ed curricula, local and state, decades’ worth of changes and hot issues, explosive board meetings and muttered accusations. I’ve heard many parents express worry that their precious children—no snark—might be learning something that they don’t talk about at home.

They don’t express it like that, of course, but that’s what it usually comes down to—fear. Fear of other peoples’ values, fear of change, fear that their own child will not follow a single, approved track into adulthood. As if avoiding exposure to things we don’t approve of will mean our children won’t be tempted by them. (Snorting.)

Speaking personally, I was always grateful that my kids had a no-nonsense health and sex education teacher. I was glad that they discussed embarrassing things, boys and girls together, in a factual way. And that their teacher had a sense of humor in addition to good information.

IMHO, sex ed is one of those “takes a village” things, especially when kids are utterly surrounded by—even drowning in—graphic sexual images, language and concepts, many of them inappropriate, to use a teacher word. What is appropriate is bringing these ideas up in a classroom full of other 7th graders and dispassionately telling kids the truth.

I read through the revised version—skimmed it, noting the places where the language I was familiar with from back when my kids were in 7th grade had changed (this was the first revision in over 20 years). It all seemed pretty normal, developmentally appropriate, and so on. What hadn’t changed was the parental right to opt students out of all sex education lessons—guaranteed. In addition, every school district needs a parent advisory committee to tailor the curriculum or address questions.

What’s different in 2026? Sex education has become partisan. It’s always been politicized, with opinions across the spectrum on the value of reproductive health and sexual hygiene as school subjects vs. family prerogatives. But now, there’s a Republican POV and a Democratic perspective:

At an Oversight Committee meeting, House Republicans questioned Interim State Superintendent Sue Carnell about how many genders there are and the reasoning behind the department’s proposal [to update sex education guidelines]. 

This time-wasting challenge to a standard policy revision all seems to be rolled into a right-wing pushback on what they call ‘woke’– the US Department of Education’s proscription on ending anything to do with diversity via “Dear Colleague”  letter, for example, or FL Governor Ron Desantis vacating the Board at New College. The new MI sex ed guidelines passed 6-2, on party lines, as MI State Board members are elected rather than appointed—an option that Republicans (perhaps too optimistically) have endorsed in the past.

 But wait! you might be saying—didn’t that letter threatening schools (and, natch, school administrators) with funding cuts if DEI programs (to be defined by ED) were discovered on campus get struck down? Here’s one take on that:

Trump’s Department of Education conceded defeat on its unconstitutional directive to cut federal funding from any school with DEI programs. After the National Education Association and the ACLU sued, a federal court permanently invalidated the order—it can’t be enforced against anyone, anywhere, ever again.

As a lifelong educator, however, I agree with Peter Greene—this is a minor setback for the anti-woke Russ Vought types, perhaps, but there are many more ways for the feds (and compliant states) to stick their lily white fingers into the running of our nation’s schools. So many things to mess with, flooding zone after zone, dividing the resistance, blurring lines.

You could require Bible readings in public schools, for instance.

You could gut decades of work from actual K-12 history teachers by creating a junky, misleading History Rocks curriculum. From the NYT’s Jessica Grose:

I spent the last week talking to public school parents who were not excited to hear that the Secretary [Linda McMahon] was coming to Alabama, Illinois, New Jersey and Connecticut because of the extremely conservative, anti-L.G.B.T.Q. and Christian makeup of the America 250 Civics Education Coalition. They were concerned that this tour was part of a larger Trumpian effort to whitewash American history.

Bingo. But it’s just one large drop in the anti-woke bucket.

This week, they came after Michigan’s new sex-ed guidelines:

The U.S. Department of Justice has opened an investigation into three Michigan public school districts — Detroit Public Schools, Lansing Public Schools and Godfrey-Lee Public Schools, a small district in Kent County — for inclusion of “sexual orientation and gender ideology” content in the districts’ K-12 curricula. 

Here’s the letter they sent to these districts. It’s filled with lofty language about parental rights, vague but intimidating threats—we’re launching a federal investigation into your school!—and pages of demands for a truckload of specific documents and verifications, all due in six weeks.

I can’t figure out how ED (what remains of it) chose these districts to torment. Detroit and Lansing are large, urban districts where a diligent attempt to meet the federal investigation requirements would be incredibly onerous, to say the least. Godfrey-Lee is a small district (1700 students) in a suburb southwest of Grand Rapids. Ninety percent of its students are minorities; most of its students are living in poverty.

The superintendent told the press that there have been no charges, and they’ll cooperate fully—but what the hell? Was there a complaint? Is it just random harassment? Or perhaps their state legislators were the real target, since the feds couldn’t get to the State Board of Education and punish them for doing what they were elected to do: revise policy.

Bottom line: this is none of the US Dept of Education’s business.

Sex education—the reality of teaching it, not what pages of policy prescribe—is always going to happen in classrooms, shaped by teacher discretion and students’ questions. The best we can hope for is a no-nonsense, caring teacher with a sense of humor and good information.   

by nflanagan

Does Love Really Make the World (or Classroom) Go ‘Round?

Some years ago, when talk radio ruled the discourse, I was listening to a national teacher union leader talk with a right-leaning—and nationally recognized—radio host. The topic was teachers as catalysts for improving public education.

The union leader mentioned National Board Certification as a model for identifying teacher leaders, the kinds of folks whose classroom expertise was validated, whose ideas about advancing public school achievement could be valuable.

Radio host: So what do these so-called nationally certified teachers have to do to prove they’re good?

Union leader: Well, they are assessed on five core principles of pedagogical excellence. The first one is knowledge of their students, and what they need to succeed. Teachers need to be committed to their students and their learning.

Radio host (full of snark): So good teachers just have to love the kids? Hug ‘em until they drop out?

That conversation—which could have featured any of the podcasters grabbing the public ear in 2026—is familiar. Lots of media figures seem to feel that the cure for “fixing” public schools is coming down hard on kids, raising the bar, forcing them to pull up their (nonexistent) bootstraps and get to work, damn it.

I thought about that conversation when I read this headline:

‘Valentine’s Day events around Minneapolis take on the ‘horrors of the world’in the Minneapolis Star.

Tag line: After a heavy start to the year, some Minneapolis residents are using Valentine’s Day to love thy neighbor.

Bingo. ‘Love thy neighbor’ is currently working in besieged communities like the Twin Cities. It works in the classroom. In fact, getting along is Job #1 in classrooms.

Kindness. Patience. Respect, a two-way street.

And then—and only then—engagement. Communication and collaboration. Joy, even. Deep learning.

Why is that so hard to believe—or understand? Human beings seldom respond to fear, threats, isolation or humiliation. They shut down—or fight back. People who relish the idea that the modern-day equivalent of smacking kids’ hands with a ruler is a productive idea are wrong.

From the National Education Policy Center newsletter:

…70% [of surveyed U.S. principals] said that “[s]tudents from immigrant families have expressed concerns about their well-being or the well-being of their families due to policies
or political rhetoric related to immigrants.” These impacts on schools across the nation are shockingly pervasive, and those impacts can be devastating, even for those students not directly targeted. “Fear undermines the ability of public schools to foster a civic community,” [survey author John] Rogers told Education Week last month.

This is unsurprising—and none of this is new. The ecology of school success has always centered on relationships. When everyone—and this includes teachers—feels comfortable and part of the community, stuff gets done.

In fact, Herbert J. Taylor created a set of ethical guidelines for the Rotary Club in 1932 that might be useful for anyone concerned with kids’ well-being in 2026. It consists of four questions to guide all our decisions:

  1. Is it the TRUTH? 2. Is it FAIR to all concerned? 3. Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS? 4. Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?

Is our government using any of these old-fashioned, even corny, principles to guide their actions around immigration? Or election security? Or ethical business practice?

Do we have to love our students? No. That’s not reality—or practical.

But caring for each other may be the only thing that will save us, in these dark times.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

by nflanagan

Dispatch from New Mexico

We are in Carlsbad, New Mexico at 5:30 on a Saturday night, hoping to grab a quick dinner at a Chili’s that seems to be THE happening place for families. There are kids running around outdoors—it’s a balmy 70 degrees—while their parents wait for a table. We grab the only two seats at the bar.

It’s clear that this is also the place where the working men of Carlsbad relax. All of the stools and tables in the bar area are filled with big, tattooed dudes. If we were in Michigan, they’d be in Carhartt, but here, it’s baseball caps and faded black T-shirts. The friendly, attractive bartender—who’s also wearing a black T-shirt with “Just Dump Him” surrounded by a heart–is taking drink orders in English and Spanish. She seems to know everyone in the place.

The guy sitting next to me is on his phone—speaking Spanish—in intense conversation, for maybe 10 minutes, punctuated by laughter.  A teenager carrying a bucket of ice appears to refill the bar supply and the guy hails him. Cruz! the kid says—and they hug over the bar and chatter some more. It feels like we’re guests in this place, with the regulars just carrying on around us.

Then the guy next to me says—Do you mind if I ask something? Sure, I say (wiping my mouth—Chili’s does have great ribs). How long have you been married? he asks. Forty-seven years, we tell him. I knew it, he says. I’m jealous. I’ve been watching you interact. You have what I wanted, but I am divorced.

We chat for about 15 minutes, occasionally looping in another guy, sitting next to my husband, who has an artificial leg. They’re mine workers. We tell them we’re going to Carlsbad Caverns, a bucket list thing, and they offer (good) advice. We hear about their kids and see adorable photos. I show them photos of the dog we adopted, Atticus, a stray who was reclaimed and trained by inmates in a Michigan prison.

My husband asks for the check and the bartender says it’s already been paid—by Cruz. I turn to protest and he says he does this all the time (the bartender nods, yup, he does). I’m not rich, he says—but I have plenty. More than enough. My pastor showed me how giving comes back to you. I thank you for showing me that love can last for 47 years.

The next morning, we go to Carlsbad Caverns and they’re spectacular indeed. That evening, in another New Mexico hotel, we watch a fabulous half-time show, full of color and love. It’s also in Spanish.

And the next day, we read all the wonderful (and alas, despicable) comments on Bad Bunny’s loving tribute to Puerto Rico, its history of oppression, his celebration of a unique culture, the importance of joy and love.

Fact: There are over 50 million Spanish speakers in the United States, and half a billion world-wide. We’re one of the few countries where speaking a second language is not considered essential, and where many states and school districts do not emphasize the value of learning to address the world through more than one language lens.

My own pastor, Reverend Lynne Fry, wrote this, which summarizes the point beautifully:

I’m hearing many people saying, “I just wish there were translated subtitles or some English lyrics”….

This is the point.

Where else in the everyday white American experience are we asked to be in a situation where we don’t know the cultural code, don’t speak the language, we feel like we are missing something?

This is frequently what it feels like to be an immigrant, a foreigner, an outsider, a minority. This is what many of our grandparents or great grandparents dealt with. This is what millions of Americans still experience every day.

Those who are white, English-only speakers were invited to experience it for 15 minutes. For many, the discomfort was intolerable. Many didn’t even try.

When invited to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, even if the fit is uncomfortable, will we?

What can—should—educators do to teach our children the beauty of other cultures, other languages, other faces? How can we reach over and share with the stranger?

Carlsbad Caverns, the Big Room. My photo.
by nflanagan

The Fault Line in American politics?

I’ve spent a lot of time considering this graphic.

IS education the fault line in American politics?

First shock: There are 33 states with more-educated people than (purple) Michigan, where there are world-class colleges and universities. What makes us an under-achiever?

2nd: Consider Trump’s mouth-blabber remark: “I love the poorly educated.” As well he should. They’re his base.

Digging deeper– what makes someone with a college degree more likely to vote Democratic? Does a college education make someone more broad-minded, more aware of the social and political factors influencing their well-being? Or is this all just about economics– being able to afford a college degree?

And personally–something I have been wrestling with since 2016–is there something I could have done, as a teacher, to model that broad-mindedness to my students?

by nflanagan

ICE: Not your friendly neighborhood cops

I was talking with an acquaintance, and made a comment about ICE being reported in Leelanau County. Don’t you want to see illegal immigrants gone? she asked. Besides, they’re only picking up the ones with a criminal record.

I was dumbfounded. I knew she was likely a Republican; our points of contact have nothing to do with politics. But still– it came as a shock to know that she felt ICE was doing good, justifiable work– keeping her safe, here in nearly all-white Leelanau County.

This didn’t feel political. It felt personal. How could anyone who’s paying attention to the news support an out-of-control federal agency, ripping families apart and harming American citizens, with our tax dollars? Could you be a good person while accepting government-sponsored violence against innocent people?

There were lots of questions I could have asked, researched and validated arguments to be made, beginning with data about the non-criminals and citizens who have been detained. But–shamefully, I admit–I said nothing, just changed the subject to the reason we were meeting.

Thinking it over, I resolved not to just ‘let it go’ anymore. It’s true that many of these folks have made up their mind and are impervious to facts. And, at this moment, nobody is out in the streets when the wind chill is 25 below.

But–thinking people, actual good citizens, care about the people who live in and serve their communities. We are not seeing public safety being played out. We are seeing the base of a presidential posse–men with vicious grudges and biases empowered to destroy public services and schools. We all need to speak up.

Even when it’s socially awkward or unlikely to change minds.

Why? Well– read the article below. It’s a gift article, so you can read the whole thing.

by nflanagan

Put Teachers in Charge of Their Own PD?

It feels weird to be opining about professional development when teachers in Minnesota are dealing with the effects of mayhem in the street, poisoning the normal ebb and flow of public schooling.

Is it exam week in the Minneapolis Public Schools, I find myself wondering—how will they handle that on-line, with a significant chunk of kids missing? Friends who teach in Minnesota share heartbreaking stories or ask me to donate $10 toward a project their students put together: getting food to families too frightened to shop. Incredible stressors for educators and also retired educators—thank you for all you are doing to keep schooling as safe as possible.

Coincidentally, it was a group of dynamic teachers in the Twin Cities area who first showed me what it really could look like to be in charge of their own professional learning. More on that later.

First, let me say the obvious. Teachers actually are, and always will be, in charge of whatever they decide they need to improve their teaching. For some, it will be a career-long quest to learn and try new things, building a practice with what works best. Others might be less enthused about the latest mandated program. You can lead a teacher to PD, but you can’t make them believe it’s useful.

The question is not what teachers need and want, to grow. It’s what administrators think they need, in the time set aside for professional development.

When principals and central office leaders are making the decisions (and hiring outside consultants)? EdWeek Research Center found that almost half of the respondents said the PD they are required to take is irrelevant. By contrast, 41% of the more than 650 school leaders surveyed at the same time said the PD they provided was “very relevant.”

This is an evergreen issue, of course. My district dabbled in a ‘choose your own PD’ model for a few years, giving teachers the choice to work in their own rooms or attend planned presentations. The lure of hours of uninterrupted time to plan lessons, run copies, review new materials, catch up on grading or chat with a partner teacher was irresistible.

Going home without a tote bag full of work? Priceless. But when only a handful of people showed up for the paid presenter? Embarrassing for the administrator who did the hiring. I say this having been one of those presenters once, setting up for 35 attendees and then having only four show up for a half-day workshop on National Board Certification.

In fact, it was a group of National Board Certified Teachers from a public high school in Minneapolis who proved to me that teacher-led professional development could be incredibly exciting and precisely targeted to the work of teaching specific students.

The name of the HS is not important—but it was a school with a high percentage of immigrant students, so there were ESL issues and poverty issues and old-building facility issues. Sometimes the assigned curricula just did not work for the students they had.

A progressive principal bought into the idea of genuine teacher leadership and re-arranged the classic HS schedule so that he was teaching classes daily, opening up time for teachers to take on traditional administrative tasks. Like professional development.

Teachers surveyed their colleagues—What do you need to know to teach your students well? What issues do you want to talk about?—and set up weekly brown-bag lunch chats and after-school gatherings at a local restaurant, with snacks paid by the school budget. There was intensive mentoring for new teachers and regular time set aside for teachers to tweak curriculum, as they were teaching it. Peer observations and conversations were built into daily practice.

A lot of what they were doing was around the use of time, shaving it off here and adding it there—only an experienced teacher can understand the difference adding 20 minutes to lunch makes, where some of the best professional development happens spontaneously.

The most impressive thing was not that teachers were ‘in charge of their own PD’—but that teachers were collaborating to build professional learning and conversations that made sense to them, on the fly.

The first question from the audience (of teachers): Did everyone in your building buy into this new, ongoing PD model? Answer: No. A couple left the building for what they saw as greener pastures. But several skeptics stayed and eventually became converts. And now, they said, when we hire, we let new teachers know they will be surrounded by support in that first year. It’s who we are—a team.

I’ve been thinking about that school, a lot, as we watch Trump’s quasi-militia wreak havoc on blue cities. Is there such a thing as professional preparation for having your teachers and students harassed? Are there materials that might help explain the chaos to kids? Will there someday be ed-conference sessions on the intersection of civic education and government coercion?

We didn’t start this fire. But teachers—beaten down and dissed by our own government—will have a role to play in rebuilding the idea of representative democracy. Right now, that’s our best hope.

by nflanagan

Where Do Kids Get Their Information?

Their music and media tell them individualism will pull them out of squalor. The people behind those messages shove the economic ladders from underneath them.   (Jose Vilson)

One of the most stunning bits of clarifying data I’ve seen in the past few weeks is this chart from Media Matters, with data from February 2025:

It’s a graphic of most listened-to online news and commentary shows, color-coded and sized to represent the magnitude and political leanings of the American audience. It’s year-old data, remember—but it goes some way toward answering the question I’ve spent the past year obsessing over: Who ARE these people and how could they have re-elected the corrupt man who led the insurrection against their pretty-good government?

I’m old enough to remember 2008, when Barack Obama’s online media savvy and fund-raising prowess was attracting voters and the envy of the other party, stuck in Walter-Cronkite land. Kids who were primary consumers of social media then, are in their 30s now, and apparently have shifted to eating up Joe Rogan, Ben Shapiro and Nick Fuentes.

But what are kids listening to in 2026?  I think the JLV, in two sentences, above, sums up what I’m thinking: They’re young. They’re being bamboozled by glitzy media and music, convinced that their own swagger will save them. And then it doesn’t. In fact, they’re a generation that almost certainly will experience less prosperity and fewer prospects than their parents’ generation.

I volunteer in an after-school program for middle-schoolers, usually on afternoons dedicated to homework (or missing assignments). It’s no secret to any teacher that a lot of incomplete and missing work happens because the students don’t know how to do it. They will finally tell you—I don’t get this—after making excuses and going to their locker or the bathroom three times. This happens a lot with math, but also with conventional Q & A, end-of-chapter reviews and short writing assignments.

Our kids have their own Chromebooks and most of the teachers provide several vetted information sources beyond the textbook, which is great. But only if students go there, and wade around. Unfortunately, chatbots have now given them a get-out-of-jail quick option.

These students are—I emphasize—not dumb (or any similar but less insulting word). After homework is completed, we often play board games or cards. They understand and can negotiate things that the games require—similes and other wordplay, strategy and logic, memory. Some are also readers (passing around personally owned books that I never ask to see). There are conversations full of humor and current music and YouTube video references.

But at age twelve or so—where are they getting their information about the world at large? On the day after the 2024 election, our coordinator stopped by to remind volunteers NOT to speak about the election. Not that any of the kids mentioned it. It was as if it hadn’t happened.

A couple of days ago, there was a local protest in town about the Venezuelan invasion, and Indivisible posted photos on their Facebook page. This drew a flood of bot comments and an irritated response from protest organizers. Bots have taken over the normal give-and-take on many social media advocacy platforms. We are no longer getting honest news from legacy sites, and right-wing frat-boy videographers get millions of eyeballs on their dishonest grift.

If we can’t count on legacy media, who’s going to sort through those red and blue bubbles of independent media? It’s going to take more than hope and good will to teach kids to be critical consumers of media and music, to discern the difference between glittering generalities and sometimes unpleasant truth.

Somebody needs to clue them in to the fact that not all elected and appointed leaders can be trusted, and actors and musicians run the gamut from good guys to sleaze . There are malignant forces in the world,  people who are capable of extreme evil, which, as Hannah Arendt pointed out, is typically characterized by mediocrity. 

Of course, teachers are proscribed from sharing their opinions on the best sources of accurate and unbiased information, lest they be labeled DEI or woke. Makes you wonder how the public opinion on DEI and woke, two ideas that were once debatable if not accepted, solidified into broadly understood negative concepts. Where did that “information” come from?

Because I hang out with middle schoolers on the regular, I don’t think it’s too late to take a stand for discretion around the truthfulness of media sources. But simply letting the red bubbles win is a mistake.

by nflanagan

TIASL Good Books of 2025

I’ve read a lot of books this year—114, according to my Goodreads account (more on that in a minute). Interestingly, not many of them were five-star reads. Kind of like the discourse around 2025 in general: a whole lot going on, little of it particularly enlightening or inspiring.

I tried to focus on fictional books, because the large bulk of what I read, day to day, is newsletters and newspapers, op-eds and social media posts, as we collectively watch the Great American Dismantling. Fiction serves as escape, and even medicine for the disheartened soul. Quality fiction, that is—books that have something to say while entertaining the reader.

I’m sharing eleven good books I read in 2025—two non-fiction, nine fiction, plus two series that I’ve come to love.

But first, a question: Is anyone using Storygraph to record your reading? I’d like to disengage from Goodreads—it’s a Jeff Bezos thing, plus there are now some irritations around their features. I got a Storygraph account but found it confusing and cluttered.

One of my dearest friends, with whom I exchange book titles regularly, finds all on-line book-reading apps confusing and unnecessary, and still records her reads and to-reads in a spiral notebook. At the end of the year, she counts. Or doesn’t. Because how many books doesn’t matter—it’s about how much you enjoyed the books, where they lead you.

I wish I could go full-blown purist, too. But I like tracking not only how many, but whether I’ve already read something (series titles will fool you, when they all sound the same). Any advice on book apps?

So here are my best 2025 reads—some new books, some merely recent. If you want to read my reviews (they’re short), click on the bolded title.

Non-fiction

I only read two memorably great non-fiction books this year, and both were memoirs written by women I deeply admire. I’d put Atwood on my list of ten favorite authors, and while her memoir is endlessly detailed, it’s also full of snark and deliciously tart observations. I wrote a whole blog (linked below) on Ravitch’s book, a behind-the-scenes look at the life of a personal education hero.

Book of Lives (Margaret Atwood)

An Education: How I Changed My Mind about Schools and Almost Everything Else (Diane Ravitch)

Fiction

It wasn’t a great year for fiction reading. Maybe it was the heavy lifting fiction had to do to drop me into another world without being lightweight or predictable. I have collected a couple dozen promising books on my e-reader to take on a winter vacation, because it’s clear we’re in for another year where reality is intolerable. In the meantime, here are nine—very different–books I could recommend.

The Heart of Winter (Jonathan Evison)

The Frozen River (Ariel Lawhon)

The Wilderness (Angela Flournoy)

Heartwood (Amity Gaige)

So Far Gone (Jess Walter)

The Jackal’s Mistress (Chris Bohjalian)

James (Everett Percival)

The Ministry of Time (Kaliane Bradley)

The Safekeep (Yael van der Wouden)

I’d also like to mention two book series that have reached must-read levels for me, like the books of Louise Penney, Donna Leon, John Sandford or others whose latest installments are anticipated returns to familiar worlds and characters.

Thursday Murder Club (Richard Osman)

I found the first book in the 5-book series cute and cozy, but unremarkable. But with each outing, I added stars, and the fourth book was outstanding. The most recent—The Impossible Fortune—was just as good.

At Midnight Comes the Cry (Julia Spencer-Fleming)

I was pleased to see that Spencer-Fleming’s 10th outing in her small-town cop-meets-Episcopal priest series made the NYT list of best mysteries of 2025. It may be Spencer-Fleming’s last book, so if you want to set off on a series, give it a try.

And now—talk among yourselves. What did you read and love? Disagree with my list?