A Veteran Teacher’s Thoughts about ADHD

I can remember the first time I heard about ADHD. It was in the early 1990s—and the person who was educating me was the mother of one of my students. His teachers—six of us, plus an admin—were sitting around a table, meeting to discuss his classroom behaviors (not good), when she whipped out stapled packets of articles on ADD.

He’d been officially diagnosed, and she was part of a parent support group, which provided materials for teachers. The packets she gave us were thick—maybe 50 pages—and filled with scientific-sounding information about diagnosis and treatment of this disease, then thought to apply to perhaps three percent of all students.

Reading through it (rather than round-filing it, as a couple of colleagues did), you could see what was coming. The Attention-Deficit Era had begun. He wasn’t hyperactive or oppositional-defiant, or a troublemaker. Not anymore. He had ADD.

Let me say, upfront, that I believe ADHD is a real thing, and using medication judiciously to treat it is often a lifesaver for parents and teachers. Let me also say that the way some classrooms operate is not conducive to deep learning for a range of students who need lots of movement and hands-on activities. And—side note– this is often not their teachers’ fault, given our increasing national focus on testing, compliance and narrowing the curriculum. Raising the damned bar.

I was horrified to read in Paul Tough’s excellent piece in the NY Times Magazine, Have We Been Thinking About A.D.H.D. All Wrong?  that nearly a quarter of 17-year old boys in the United States have now been diagnosed as having ADHD. Tough does a good job of tracking the factors—drug treatments, specifically—that have made one in four boys unable to focus in a quiet classroom without chemical assistance.

He rightfully notes that ADHD symptoms also look like a lot of other things: anxiety, head injury, lead exposure and many other traumas.

But the piece ends on a hopeful note, with lots of testimony from young adult men who have found the right jobs and life circumstances and seldom experience troublesome ADHD symptoms. Which makes me ponder what there is about school that makes the kids we used to call hyperactive need drugs to get by every day, even though the medicines don’t improve their learning.

“Believing the problem lay in their environments rather than solely in themselves helped individuals allay feelings of inadequacy: Characterizing A.D.H.D. as a personality trait rather than a disorder, they saw themselves as different rather than defective.”

The kid whose mother insisted he had a disease, rather than merely being disobedient? He was, in fact, hyperactive and prone to (cheerfully) destroying order in a classroom. Once, while I was moving band equipment, chairs and stands across the hall from the band room for an assembly in the gym, I instructed him to load percussion equipment on a flat pushcart. (Teacher tip: Always give restless students an important job.)  

Instead, he assembled the drum set on the cart, then had another kid push him down the hall while he pounded out a little Metallica. Down the hall—and past the office. It didn’t end well for either of us. He wasn’t a bad drummer, by the way. According to mom, it was his favorite class.

I looked him up on internet, and he’s now a multimillion-selling real estate agent. Go figure.

I taught for two more decades after that day I first heard of ADD. Lots more students were diagnosed with ADD, over time—then, ADHD. My colleagues and I talked often about accurate language, and accurate diagnoses, and the differences in kids when they were medicated. Sometimes, parents let teachers know their child had been diagnosed—sometimes, they didn’t.

I took kids to camp and on field trips where I had to administer their ADHD medications, or have conversations with their concerned parents about behavior issues when they were unmedicated—at an evening performance or band camp.

And I often felt grateful that I was teaching band, with 65 students at once, all holding noisemakers. There was a lot of stimulation in the band room, plenty of activity. There was also discipline (because otherwise there would be chaos), but my attention-deficit kids could tolerate rules and procedures, as long as they were moving and doing things. Mostly.

I also taught 7th grade math for two years. I found that maintaining student focus with 28 students in a desks-and-chalkboard setting was often way more difficult than keeping 60 band kids on track.

Read Paul Tough’s piece, if you get a chance. It’s nuanced and layered with contradictions, like most things about schooling, and raising healthy children. We could be doing lots more for kids who are immersed in screens and entertainment daily, and have difficulty staying on task when that task involves paper and pencils.

But then—we could be doing a lot more for many kids, who bring their various backgrounds and issues to school. If only we had the resources. And a genuine commitment to the next generation.

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Coming to Life: Woodchippers and Community Builders

Maybe it’s 35 years of working in a classroom, but here’s what I think: it’s too bad that there aren’t more teachers in Congress.

Teachers generally know how to encourage recalcitrant students, stand up to student bullies, kick butt and make it stick, not to put too fine a point on it. Congress is acting like that 7th hour class with the wrong mix of kids, people who just can’t seem to work together. And if you have to ask why it’s important for students to work together, you’ve obviously never been a teacher.

As I watch what I hope is the nascent rise of a nation coming to life, reclaiming its identity, I am reminded again and again of the basics of K-12 community-making: Be kind, a team player. Show up and persist. Build some joy into whatever you’re doing. And keep your promises. We’re in this together.

If your job involves teaching 30 unwilling 4th graders to master two-digit division, you have to show up and persist—and also build some fun into the persisting. Because joy is the end goal—having the skills to pursue a good life. Accomplishing something important.

Not sure what’s happening where you live—but here in Northern Michigan, people are paying attention and organizing. Plenty of social change movements fade away (I knit 16 pussy hats and can only locate one at the moment), but the upcoming events calendar is full. If it only takes 3.5% of the population to foment change, we can do this.

What’s on my agenda? A Zoom messaging workshop. A book group that is reading and discussing Project 2025. Even a sermon, last Sunday, on “Embracing Diversity.”

On Saturday, there was an empty-chair Town Hall, featuring a cutout of Jack Bergman, Congressional Representative for the largest—geographic—district (CD One) in Michigan. Bergman is not a Michigan native, and in fact his primary residence appears to be in Louisiana.  In 2016 and 2018 the Bergmans listed a metal storage building at 5070 South Cisco Lake Road as their single family residence. The problem with this is the fact that the building has electricity, but no rooms nor septic field and was used to store trailers and boats.

And yes, I think that it’s Michigan’s responsibility to offload an election denier and traitor to the military, where he was once a Brigadier General—especially since he has shown zero evidence of caring about his constituents, many of whom live in Michigan’s poorest and most remote counties. The ones where hospitals are dependent on Medicaid, for example. There are no Tesla dealerships in the entire Upper Peninsula.

The Town Hall was wonderful—seating was limited (and the weather was dicey) but over 1000 people attended, in person or via livestream. Questions were not pre-screened. Just people taking turns at the microphones, pouring out their anger, their pain, their uncertainty. A special education teacher (who got a rousing ovation). A ‘recovering psychiatrist’ who warned us (acknowledging the ethics violation) that we were being governed by a malignant narcissist. Moms, nurses, dishwashers, authors and physicians.

And this comment from a veteran:
“My son is a veteran. I am a veteran. My father is a veteran. My grandfather is a veteran. And my great-grandfather is a veteran. Jack Bergman, you are a veteran. You’re a jarhead like my dad… and like my father, like my entire family, you took a vow; a very important vow. You vowed to (and here, the audience joined in) defend the Constitution and the Republic against all enemies, foreign and domestic.

Where the [expletive] are your vows, Jack? You are a disgrace to the uniform. You are a disgrace to the office that you hold. You are a disgrace to this country. And Jack, if you are too feeble and too afraid to stand up for what is right and to fulfill your vows, then it is time for you to step aside and let somebody else do it. Semper Fi.”

Turning to see the speaker, I noticed that the man behind me, in camo zip-up and olive drab beanie, had tears streaming down his cheeks.

I think something is happening. What we need now is showing up and persisting, keeping the faith. Remembering to have fun—because we want to live joyfully, to move forward.

In two weeks, I’ll be at the Network for Public Education conference in Columbus, Ohio.

Trump (or Musk, or whoever’s running the country) is putting public education through the woodchipper at the moment. There is already a bill filed in the MI (yes, Michigan) legislature to support shutting down the federal Department of Education, essentially saying ‘just send us the money—we’ll take it from there.’

It’s all pretty grim. I need to get together with my people, which is what I’m planning to do in Columbus. We’re in this together.

Trump and his “Aptitude for Music”

There are so many things to be said about the ongoing demolition of the American government that your average reader—even someone who follows politics closely–can’t keep up. Everything from the Massive Erroneous Deportation to the Declaration of Independence in the Oval Office to the biggest upward transfer of wealth in history. Not to mention Goodbye to the Department of Education.

Lots of great writing about where we find ourselves as a nation, as well—I am learning to get along without the Washington Post, with the great political commentary coming from independent newsletters like The Contrarian, Meidas, Robert Reich, Heather Cox Richardson, Lucian Truscott, The Education Wars and the Bulwark, which are only the ones I’m currently paying for. Can’t add much, beyond my personal open-mouthed horror, to the wall-to-wall political coverage available.

However. Here’s one inane Trump declaration where I have considerable expertise: Touring Kennedy Center, Trump Mused on His Childhood ‘Aptitude for Music.’ 

In case you’ve missed it (and you’re forgiven if you have): President Donald J. Trump — who recently overhauled the once-bipartisan board of directors at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts and installed it with loyalists who elected him to serve as its chairman — held court Monday in a place that he had not publicly visited during either of his terms in office: the Kennedy Center.

Remarks were made to the Washington Post by Trump officials who recently toured the arts venue and described it as “filthy,” noted that it “smelled of vomit,” and added that they “saw rats.”

But not to worry! Trump alone can fix the Kennedy Center. In fact, Trump—who could have been a superb musician, if his parents hadn’t pushed him into becoming an outstanding athlete and phenomenally successful businessman instead— can add “born arts connoisseur” to his  already-substantial resume’. Because ‘the test’ showed what we’ve all missed: the guy who bragged about punching out his music teacher in second grade was really an untapped musical genius.  

First of all: Hahhahahhahaha.

Like all Trump anecdotes—Sir! Sir!– this one is mainly bullshit: He told the assembled board members that in his youth he had shown special abilities in music after taking aptitude tests ordered by his parents, according to three participants in the meeting. He could pick out notes on the piano, he told the board members.

If you polled actual music teachers, all of them could tell you stories about small children whose parents considered them exceptional, because they could dance to a beat , clap a rhythm or pick out a tune on the keyboard. Many of them had a great-grandmother who taught piano or uncle who was a whiz on the saxophone—thereby confirming that their talent was inherent, according to mom.

Some of those kids (especially the ones whose parents encouraged practice and persistence, attending every concert) turned out to be good musicians, after some basic musical instruction. Others, not so much.

Second: Testing children’s innate musical ability has fallen out of favor, for the same reasons that other standardized testing has been rightfully criticized. In the post-war years, a ‘musical abilities test’—the Seashore Test—was popular, often used to determine who should get to use expensive school-owned instruments. I took it myself, in the 4th grade.

What the Seashore Test did, mostly, was identify kids who had some musical experience—piano lessons, singing in the church choir, music-making in their families. Because the more you do music, the better your ‘ear’ and sense of rhythm. Kind of like the way kids who go on family trips to the library or museum get a leg up on other kids, when tested on their reading abilities or content knowledge.

Is there such a thing as talent? Sure. But testing as a means of determining talent—or taste, or creativity—when the testee is a child is pointless. Genuine, exceptional talent emerges as a result of passion and tenacity and, sometimes, good luck.

Here’s a story about my own failing in assessing talent, as a music teacher.

Why did such testing fade away? Because it missed a lot of students who became strong musicians—singers and trombonists, the lead in the school musical—down the road.

Lesson learned: ALL children should all enjoy making music in our schools. Because you never know if someday your child might be Chair of the Kennedy Center Board.

Goodbye to the Department of Education

Lots of my fellow ed-bloggers are musing fretfully about what appears to be the imminent demise of the Department of Education (ED, in DC insider parlance). There’s a lot to say about laying off half the employees at a vital federal institution and crushing its ongoing critical functions. Some are hanging on to the idea that only Congress can disappear the ED, but I have my doubts.

Chasten Buttigieg, spouse of the former Transportation Secretary (and person who lives near me) suggested on Bluesky today: If Linda McMahon and the Department of Education believe in “efficiency and accountability” (after laying off half of the department), then I’m sure they’ll gladly publish a list of every position that has been eliminated and why that position is no longer needed.

As if.

Speaking as a person who was already four years into her teaching career when Jimmy Carter got the ED through Congress and running, I clearly remember the parade of Famous Political Operatives (including Reagan, the Republican party and various right-wing caucuses) who pooh-poohed the idea that education was important enough to have its own Department and Secretary.

They were all operating from the same standpoint: Too much tax money for public education, too much federal say-so on what should be state and local decisions. Classic conservative positions. The Detroit News has been referring to public education as a massive entitlement program for years.

Those reasons were not enough to take down the ED, however. And the Department went merrily on, as bureaucratic institutions do, making things better for kids with disabilities and establishing programs to continuously improve public education. Theoretically.

Some of those programs and laws administered by ED—NCLB, grandchild of the ESEA, springs to mind—were not popular with those staffing the 13,000+ public school districts in the U.S. But the ED had a core function that we all could get behind, beautifully illustrated yesterday by this AP headline: The Education Department was created to ensure equal access. Who would do that in its absence?

Without the department, advocates worry the federal government would not look out in the same way for poor students, those still learning English, disabled students and racial and ethnic minorities.

There was a time when I would entertain arguments about whether the Department of Education was entirely a force for good. I was disabused of this notion by Renee Moore, a brilliant and dedicated educator who taught in the Mississippi Delta. Without a federal force to protect public education, she pointed out, Mississippi could easily slide backward into the segregated, utterly neglected public schools that made up its past. We can’t trust states to equitably take care of the children who live there, especially those in poverty, she said. The federal government gives us a backstop.

I thought about Renee this morning, when I read this statistic: The share of K12 funding provided by the federal government ranges from 23% in Mississippi to 7% in New York. Overall, in 2021-22, average federal education spending was 17% in states that voted for Trump in 2024 versus 11% in states that voted for Harris.

Education Week also had an interesting piece up today, Can Trump Do That? Which Actions on Education Are Legal, and Which Ones Aren’t? It’s paywalled, but the gist is that in 11 federal education programs that Trump has indicated he will destroy, in some way, he’s on legal (but distasteful) footing in only one. The rest, he technically can’t do, via a wave of his magic Elon-wand.

But we all know where Trump and Musk are going. We see it with our own disbelieving eyes. Rules, schmules. And the states that are going to get hurt the most are his most loyal base.

Lots of Trump’s executive orders are easily reversible. Don’t take your Sharpie to the Gulf of Mexico. But destroying the Department of Education is a Category Five injury to the concept of a free, high-quality education for every American child, regardless of what they bring to the table.

Who is in Favor of Authoritarianism? Are Schools Authoritarian?

In 2014, we went on a much-anticipated two week cruise—the Grand European, from Budapest to Amsterdam. On the first day, we took a day-long tour of Budapest, with a charming and articulate guide. First stop: Heroes Square.

Our guide was a proud and patriotic Hungarian, well-versed in her nation’s history, all the way back to Atilla the Hun. I am embarrassed to say I knew very little about modern-day Hungary, except for the fact that Hungarian citizens are universally musically literate, because of Zoltan Kodaly, whose method of teaching music to children is internationally renowned.

As the distracted touring group wandered around snapping pictures of the impressive statuary, our guide completed her thumbnail history and then, very quietly, said that Hungarians—so brave and bold—were losing their democratic independence to their authoritarian Prime Minister, Viktor Orban.

Glancing around, she spoke for perhaps two minutes about how he was suppressing freedoms and dismissing the courts, stealing money and power from the people. It was clear that she was nervous, and that this was not part of her assigned guide-spiel. Most of the Americans in this heavily American group were not paying attention to her final, whispered words: You Americans are lucky.

That was 10 years ago. Today, from a piece entitled The Path to American Authoritarianism:

Democracy is in greater peril today than at any time in modern U.S. history. America has been backsliding for a decade: between 2014 and 2021, Freedom House’s annual global freedom index, which scores all countries on a scale of zero to 100, downgraded the United States from 92 (tied with France) to 83 (below Argentina and tied with Panama and Romania), where it remains.

The country’s vaunted constitutional checks are failing. Trump violated the cardinal rule of democracy when he attempted to overturn the results of an election and block a peaceful transfer of power. Yet neither Congress nor the judiciary held him accountable, and the Republican Party—coup attempt notwithstanding—renominated him for president. Trump ran an openly authoritarian campaign in 2024, pledging to prosecute his rivals, punish critical media, and deploy the army to repress protest. He won, and thanks to an extraordinary Supreme Court decision, he will enjoy broad presidential immunity during his second term.

While this is a powerful statement, it is not difficult to find a dozen pieces, by credible authors, in credible publications, saying pretty much the same thing, over the last three weeks. We are headed toward Hungary (Global Freedom Score: 65) or perhaps Saudi Arabia (GFS: 8), where our President is now going to sell out Ukraine (GFS: 49).

It’s clear we are not the land of the free anymore. Nor are we the home the brave. We’re the home of the partisan cowardly and the feckless appeasers.

It is easy to point fingers at the clueless voters who wanted cheaper eggs (and, one hopes, a corresponding end to galloping and threatening bird flu). It’s a short distance from there to wondering why schools are turning out more and more dumb people. If people understood the importance of preserving our liberties, we wouldn’t find ourselves with a completely incompetent president. Again.

This—the ‘let’s blame schools’ rationale—is always popular when things are shaky politically. Richard Nixon blamed ‘bums blowing up campusesfor political unrest, rather than his own disastrous foreign policy. Academic and political scholars spent decades comparing Johnny and Ivan, invariably coming to the same conclusion: our schools suck, when it comes to preparing upstanding and industrious citizens. That we are now preparing to aid Russia in its criminal intent to capture some or all of a struggling democracy, Ukraine, is the ultimate irony.

Schooling is actually one of those public institutions where a kind of benign authoritarianism—because I said so—is commonplace, even approved. When Alabama Senator Tommy Tuberville suggested that kids who have ADHD don’t need medication—they need to be whipped with a belt—there were plenty of MAGA types nodding in agreement.

The rise in book-banning, the faux outrage over the fewer than 10 trans athletes (out of a half-million) in college sports, the equally faux outrage over “CRT” and “DEI” (both of which should require scare quotes)—these are happening because public education is funded and controlled by the government (as accountability requires).

There’s a reason why the Department of Education is being so quickly dismantled. It’s not a business (as everyone is fond of saying). It doesn’t make money. It’s entirely dependent on a mixture of public funding streams. There are accountability strings (state and federal) on nearly every aspect of the way public education runs, from where the money goes, qualifications for workers, rules for instructional materials and practices, punishments for low test scores, how to get kids to school, even when they prefer not to go.

For the current administration, bent on “saving” federal dollars for their own preferences, breaking up this monolith will be a giant display of power that impacts some 50 million students and their families. Think you’re in charge of your local school, your classroom? Think again. Easy peasy.

No, the federal government–and supporting Republicans and conservative courts–say. No, we don’t want your media literacy classes. No, we don’t want kids nosing around in issues like fairness and equity in our recent history. No speaking Spanish. No arts classes or events to help students make sense of the world they live in. No vaccines to protect them, or accurate health information.

No, we don’t want you out there teaching kids to ferret out the truth.

I think about our Hungarian guide all the time, especially recently, watching Tucker Carlson gush about what an amazing, transformative job Viktor Orban has done. At the time, she seemed a little desperate, sharing her political beliefs with American strangers.

Now, she seems like a prophet. Guard what you have. You never know when you’re going to elect a despot. Before our schools crumble, I hope every teacher will gather up their courage and speak truth to power, even to first graders.

As Steven Bechloss wrote: Despite this onslaught of gaslighting, aggression and attacks on facts, don’t assume we are powerless to respond. This is our duty to the future and the truth.

Diversity and Tracking

If you were in the classroom, as I was for well over three decades, you will have had some experience with tracking— ability grouping, or dividing the class into the Bluebirds, the Orioles and the Buzzards at reading time. And you will know that some teachers strongly resist the impulse to sort and label students, while others endorsed the practice of dividing students by their—key word alert!—perceived differences.

I taught 7th grade math for two (non-consecutive) years. Students were leveled into math groups both times, although the labeling process was different. The first time, there were four levels—Honors, Advanced, Basic and Remedial—and I taught Basic math.

The math faculty, understanding that ability differences were, indeed, perceived rather than scientifically determined—and that skills and understanding were also likely to shift, over the course of a semester or two—proposed testing the students quarterly, using the same test. Any student whose test scores were wildly out of line with their perceived peers could be moved. Up or down.

Except—this was a lot less feasible in practice. Most kids (and their parents) had internalized their math labels. Honors or Advanced? Try suggesting, after nine weeks, that their skills were really… kinda basic.

I also had a couple of kids in my “basic” group who, right off the bat, were obviously sandbagging. Their actual skills and math sense were so far above the norm that I wondered immediately how and why they were placed in the Basic group.

After a few weeks, however, I started to understand how behavior issues impacted the sixth grade teachers’ divvy-up process at the end of the previous year. Act like an attention-seeking four year old? No Honors for you! The only African American kid in the 7th grade? Basic.

Point being: Leveling students, in most academic settings, has limited and conditional value. More importantly, grouping students is often about things totally unrelated to academic ability or potential.

There is probably no education writer who has influenced me more than Alfie Kohn, whose book No Contest inspired me to stop using chairs and challenges, something band directors everywhere see as a normal practice. (I wrote about how that actually improved my school bands, HERE.)

Alfie Kohn just wrote a rather brilliant essay: Heterogenius; Why and How to Stop Dividing People into Us and Them. It’s well worth the read, packed with evidence-based observations and sharp analysis, and incredibly timely in an era when we have to be reminded that diversity, equity and inclusion are actually good goals—especially when teaching children—not merely “DEI,” a catch-all trigger for the people currently in power to run roughshod over the rest of us, including our future citizens.

Here’s a sampling from Kohn’s column, on the measurable, research-supported benefits of diversity:

The idea of minimizing homogeneity has a great deal to recommend it even on a biological level. Genetic diversity allows for adaptation to a changing environment. Species diversity makes for more robust ecosystems. Plant diversity (for example, through crop rotation) protects against pests and disease. Even nature, in other words, seems to be saying “Mix it up!”

As for human interaction, the experience of being in a heterogeneous group not only attenuates tribalism but can enhance performance on various tasks. Social psychologist Adam Galinsky put it this way: “Diversity increases creativity and innovation, promotes higher quality decisions, and enhances economic growth because it spurs deeper information processing and complex thinking…[whereas] homogeneous groups run the risk of narrow mindedness and groupthink (i.e., premature consensus) through misplaced comfort and overconfidence.”

It’s that last quote that explains why Trump, after raving about–and winning an election on—his goal of deporting millions of brown people, has now decided to welcome White “refugees” of European descent from South Africa.

It’s all out in the open now—how politicized the pushback against diversity and equity are. Long-time right-leaning ed-research houses like Fordham keep pumping out anti-diversity reports, in favor of reserving education goodies for the top layer of (white and Asian) HS students. However:

As the report notes, research does support the finding that many students are insufficiently challenged. The research is also mixed on how best to design schools to avoid any students languishing academically. But the report fails to take seriously the decades of research showing the harms of the tracking and ability grouping systems in secondary schools that have stratified opportunities to learn. After muddling the research evidence, the report then recommends the practice most harmful to equity: increased tracking (called, “readiness grouping in separate classrooms”).

Ah. You’re not tracking kids. You’re readiness grouping them. In separate—but decidedly unequal—classrooms.

A blithe quote from the Wall Street Journal:  On day two of his administration, President Trump ordered federal agencies to terminate “diversity, equity and inclusion” programs in the government and combat them in the private sector. The order follows through on his promise to forge a colorblind, merit-based society and to end the engineering of race and sex into every aspect of American life.

Jamelle Bouie: This is the “merit” two-step. First, you strongly imply or state outright that the presence of anyone who isn’t a straight, able-bodied white man is unfair “DEI,” then you argue that just because an institution is all-male and lily-white doesn’t mean there is discrimination. That’s just merit!

Been there. And had those conversations with my fellow math teachers, back then. One of the words to watch for: deserve.

As in: He’s going to be an engineer, like his Dad. He deserves to be in Honors math, even though his score is a little low. Or: She doesn’t turn her homework in—says she has to babysit. Even if she aces the test, she doesn’t deserve to be in Advanced math.

Because tracking (stratifying, merit-based clustering, readiness grouping, whatever) happens at the school level, it is something local schools and districts have some control over, despite Donald Trump’s empty threats against Stuff He Doesn’t Like in schools resulting in pulling federal funding.

Teachers, even threatened, fearful teachers, can hold firm to the time-honored principle of doing their best to challenge every child, to look for and support their strengths, without arbitrarily dividing them into academic stars and lesser lights. They can also honor the principle of diversity, knowing diversity makes a classroom, a school and society stronger.

As Alfie Kohn says:
That’s a message that children need to hear — and to see modeled for them — by the adults in their lives: a commitment to inclusiveness whose implication is that there is no future in tribalism, no justice in “just us.” Every day our kids should watch us encounter and talk about others in a way that highlights how those people are not alien beings; they’re like us with respect to the things that matter — and, at the same time, their qualities can’t be reduced to membership in any category.

Who ARE These People?

For most of my adult life (other than a brief but wonderful stint in the People’s Republic of Ann Arbor), I’ve been the proverbial blue dot on a red background. Although I am out there as a Democrat (on the executive board of the county party, and Democratic candidate for office), I always felt fine about living near, and occasionally hanging out with, Republicans.

They were my neighbors and my work colleagues, the white-collar parents of my students, singers in the church choir I directed. When we moved to northern Michigan, it was easy to understand (if not align with) the uber-conservative, agricultural, take-care-of-your-own legacy of the small rural county where I now live. For long stretches of time, I had a Republican state legislator in mid-Michigan who exemplified cross-the-aisle politics for the greater benefit. I thought I understood good people with different political beliefs and habits.

That was then, of course.

I think the distinction today is not Democrats=good / Republicans=bad. It’s not about liberal vs. conservative, either. What we are seeing is an elevation of fear and disinformation, the breaking of the contract of democracy, where majority beliefs, rule of law and consideration of the common good are suppressed–in favor of anger, chaos and feeding the greed of apolitical billionaires and those bent on amassing power.

Anger and resentment. Fear. Disinformation. Crushing respect and generosity of spirit.

There’s a wonderful, brief passage in Elizabeth Strout’s newest novel, “Tell Me Everything.”  One of the minor characters volunteers at a food pantry, because she’s lonely and likes feeding people. She meets a nice man on an online dating site, and they begin a relationship. He tells her he knows that many undeserving people go to food banks and take food they don’t need—so she stops volunteering. And that, Strout remarks, is how the divisions in our towns and families begin.

Resentment. Disinformation. Crushing the human urge to share and socialize. Simple stuff—the kind of things kindergarten was designed to ameliorate. The kinds of things that a good education should serve as prophylactic against.

Years ago, when school of choice language became law, and charter schools began popping up in Michigan, it seemed to me that the people who were driving the movement to destabilize public education had two goals: 1) It’s my money and you can’t have it and 2) I don’t want my children to go to school with them (whomever their own personal “them” was).

Well-funded, non-diverse public schools chose not to participate in school of choice, claiming that there were no seats available for students who lived two blocks over the district border lines. Poorer schools welcomed kids from ‘over the border,’ each one of whom came from a public school district that couldn’t afford to lose them and the public money they brought with them.

I never anticipated that those two principles–let’s call them greed and discrimination–would become the driving force in larger social issues, like immigration, affordable housing, elitism and ‘political correctness,’ trade and the national economy. Illiberal, lawless crapola for schools to deal with, as well, like faux book bans and suppression of the truth in ordinary school curricula. If you think those aren’t really happening, or can be prevented in a blue-state school, here’s a heads-up from the “new” federal Department of Education.

So who ARE these people, the ones actively working to disrupt public institutions (including public schools) and reasonable laws? It’s important that we know, because they’re everywhere now—including Europe. If they’re not conservatives, and not precisely Republicans (aside from the craven, rabidly partisan, power-hungry idiots in Congress), who are they? And why did they think Trump would make their lives better?

Every now and then, the New York Times (and please don’t tell me not to read the NYT) interviews citizens about their political views, another opportunity to wonder: Who ARE these people? Where did they get them?

Last week, the NY Times Magazine published a glossy piece, What Trump’s Supporters Want for the Future of America. Here are some excerpts:  

I don’t like the way this country’s turned — all this woke stuff. Stuff that the kids shouldn’t be exposed to. I think I was 18 before I knew that there was gay people, you know? 

I believe with Jesus at Trump’s side, America will be safe again.

The left has been so gung ho about just taking away rights and trying to demolish what it means to be an American.

You’re going to see so much economic prosperity, the cost of energy going down.

He has excellent people in place in the cabinet as well as throughout the White House staff. 

He has become wiser because of what happened to him. He almost died.

What we want is that they give us more hope that immigrants won’t get deported if they haven’t committed a crime. 

I was at the Capitol that day [January 6]. It was a setup.

I transferred out of the high school that I was going to graduate from because there were guys that were going into the girls’ bathroom.

We are home-schooling him [son] right now, because of what the schools have become. This one has always been like, obsessed with Donald Trump. I mean, every paper he writes, every project he does in school, everything is about Trump.

All of these people gave their names, occupations and hometowns, and were photographed for the article. They were, apparently, eager to talk about their hopes and dreams for the next four years. None of them were politicians or architects of Project 2025—they were ordinary folks, across the economic spectrum.

It’s easy (and I see this all the time on social media) to call these people dumb—or even evil. But I keep going back to the goals of the 2024 campaigns: Disinformation. Fear. Resentment.

As a lifelong educator, I ask myself if I am partially responsible for young adults who fall for the politicized crapola they hear, who are unable to distinguish just who’s taking away their rights, who believe that the January 6th insurrection was a setup. Why would any student be obsessed with Donald Trump—see him as a hero?

Who are these people? It’s a question that needs answering.

Why Senate Cabinet Hearings are a Lesson for Schools

Here’s a reflective statement that will probably irritate—or enrage—my fellow music educators: When it comes to inappropriate behavior on the part of educators, performing arts teachers have a bad reputation. Often deservedly so.

Offhand—and I’m only one music teacher—I can think of a dozen instances of band, orchestra and choir teachers who have been accused of sexually unacceptable behaviors with students. Am I going to name them? I am not—although I have written about my own experience with a sexual predator/band director who used his power in that position in destructive, demeaning ways. For years.

Why are teachers in certain disciplines and grade levels more prone to sexually abusive behaviors? Opportunity. When you take students to camp, or on regular field trips—or when you are responsible for private lessons or after-school rehearsals—there are plenty of occasions when bad stuff can happen.

I kept thinking about this, watching the Hegseth hearings. Stuff that used to be distasteful and shameful is now, per Markwayne Mullins, a mere “mistake” up to and including criminal acts Why did Hegseth do it? Because he could. Sound familiar?

Holly Berkley Fletcher has a great piece on the hearings in Bulwark: Mullin went on, “The only reason I am here and not in prison is because my wife loved me, too. . . I’m not perfect, but I found somebody that thought I was perfect . . . but just like our Lord and Savior forgave me, my wife’s had to forgive me more than once, too.”

Mullin’s mini-sermon was a lasagna of problematic messaging—the lauding of a woman for sticking with an abusive man, more generally giving women responsibility for men’s redemption, and calling longstanding patterns of behavior a “mistake.” Oh, and there was also the obligatory reference to Jesus—whom Hegseth also repeatedly invoked to get out of every jam free.

David Brooks, in the NY Times, had a hissy fit about all the ‘character’ questions lobbed at Hegseth, calling them “short attention span” and “soap opera” queries. He lists some undeniably concerning realities about our military and the global conditions it might be called upon to address—and hey, all of that is fine, and very relevant.

But. Character still matters in the application of expertise (which, it must be noted, Hegseth has pretty much none of, either). Being in charge of our military is the ultimate “opportunity for malfeasance” job.

As I watched the brand-new, low-information Senator from Montana—not naming him either—joke with Hegseth about how many genders there were and how many pushups he could do, I thought about how this works in my bailiwick—public school teaching.

What do we ask new teachers or principals, in hiring interviews? Questions that reveal character? Or questions strictly related to the disciplinary knowledge and pedagogical skills necessary for the job? More specifically, how did all those music teachers I’m not naming get hired?

(And yes, I do realize, that merely getting someone certified to teach is often the best many districts can do, in 2025, given teacher shortages.)

Not all that long ago, Michigan was a teacher exporting state. Recent grads, who would have preferred to teach near home, were actively recruited by other states, often in the south. Interviews and job offers were done by telephone—before Zoom, where you can at least see the person you’re talking to. A number of my former students moved out of state to begin their teaching careers after a couple of phone calls netted them a job.

I used to wonder how administrators or hiring teams felt they knew enough about a person to believe they would do a good job with the children entrusted to them, with only a phone conversation. One of my formers, on her way to South Carolina, told me that her interviewer said they were impressed with her local university’s reputation as a teacher-prep institute, and her resume’ (which, it must be noted, showed zero experience as an actual teacher).

As Fine Arts Department Chair for many years in my district, I sat on lots of hiring committees. A strong resume’ is a good reason to interview, as are references. But there are things—character things, maybe even “soap opera” things—that emerge in an interview.

The guy who’s too slick, and can’t meet your eyes. The person who makes promises when they have no idea whether they can keep them. Worst of all, the teacher who’s leaving their previous district because the principal is “dysfunctional.” Things like this emerge when you ask character-related questions. And you use your human judgment skills to observe and evaluate.

This week, we’ve had a front row seat for the most important and consequential job interviews in the nation. Every person being grilled by senators has a comprehensive, publicly available resume’. And each of them deserve to have the nation watching them squirm or deflect or repeat their pre-arranged, “anonymous smear” responses.

Who’s going to get hired? As always, the person the administrator wants. But establishing a public record of questions asked and answered—or avoided—is critical.

And no question—not a single one—is unfair or irrelevant.

TIASL Best Blogs of 2024

I used to blog for Education Week—for nine years, in fact. And at the end of each year, the teacher bloggers were asked to choose our ten best blogs and post a piece about them. We were given viewership statistics (for our personal blog only), so we’d know which ones got the most eyeballs. And invariably, the most popular ones—the winners–were my least favorite pieces.

I’m writing for myself and like-minded readers these days, so I’m not sharing the most-read 2024 columns from Teacher in a Strange Land. I’m sharing eight blogs that I think best reflect the, well, Strange Land we find ourselves in, educationally speaking.

Before I list them, I’d suggest you read two recent—important– blog posts from Peter Greene. The first informs his regular readers (I’m among them): If you have ever had an urge to send money my way, I ask that you transfer that urge to someone whose work you appreciate and who has, however shyly or boldly, held their hat out. Plunk down some bucks for the work that you value and that you want to see staying in the world.

You’ve probably noticed that the most famous people who write about education are often not educators. The best—most accurate, most creative, most humane—writing about schools and learning comes from people (like Peter) who’ve done the work and have first-hand observations about doing right by children. In 2024 alone, I have subscribed to seven newsletters, paying a modest fee and developing an informed reading habit on screens, rather than newspapers and magazines. Some of those writers have interactive publishing modes and write back.

I have favorite ed writers—and it is those writers who introduce me to other ed writers. Which is Peter Greene’s second point: Share the good stuff. If you’re wondering who to read, click here. There are dozens of suggestions, curated by Greene. But first, subscribe to his blog, because his work is terrific, soaked in reality. And free.

Here are my eight picks:

Do Core Democratic Values Belong in Schools? Some Say No.
When looking at curricular change over the past five years—immediately preceding the onset of the COVID pandemic—it’s easy to see that there were plenty of precursors to the anti-wokebook-banningteacher-punishing mess we find ourselves in as we slowly recover from that major shock to the public education system.

The scariest thing to me about the abuse teachers are taking, across the country, is its impact on curriculum. Here’s the thing: you really can’t outsource teacher judgment. You can prescribe and script and attempt to control everything that happens in the classroom, but it doesn’t work that way.

My Research is Better Than Your Research:

Simple theoretical questions—like “which method produces greater student understanding of decomposing geometric shapes?”—have limited utility. They’re not sexy, and don’t get funding. Maybe what we need to do is stop ranking the most influential researchers in the country, and teach educators how to run small, valid and reliable studies to address important questions in their own practice, and to think more about the theoretical frameworks underlying their work in the classroom.

Ignoring the Real World in the Classroom:

What happens when teachers can’t take questions about the daily news? It makes us look like idiots, for starters. Uninformed content-dispensers, unable to connect facts to causes or outcomes. What have our students learned from our unwillingness to discuss national crises, like 9/11?

Weaponizing Empathy and other Heritage Foundation Rhetoric for School Reform:

I was dumbstruck on hearing this little clip from a recent school board meeting.

Board member says: “This gets into the weaponization of empathy, where empathy is taught as the highest goal, the highest order. Do we teach empathy to the effect where students disregard parental authority—and accept anything and everything? Do we teach kids that any kind of judgment is bad?”

Wait. What? Who is he accusing? And what is the weaponization of empathy?

Too much empathy leads to kids defying their parents, evidently. The moral ambiguity of school confuses students. That’s their big fear?

DIS-Information in Schools:

There are, indeed, public schools where media literacy is a formal part of the curriculum. There are outstanding digital literacy resources for students, supported by high-quality research. What’s missing is the will and the urgency of the need to educate kids about distinguishing between truth and whatever it is they’re getting on TikTok.

Or, unfortunately, at their kitchen tables or their church or on the bus. Misinformation—can you remember Things You Used to Believe?—has always been a factor in growing up and becoming educated. Disinformation is a darker thing altogether. Especially when it comes from people who should, theoretically, represent integrity. Legislators, for example.

What do parents know about public education:

Adults’ perceptions of what’s happening in public schools mainly come from their own personal experiences (and this includes people with no K-12 children in the home). The percentage of people who read books or articles, watch cable news or videos, or listen to podcasts about education is small. People who get their education news from newspapers? Fifteen percent. Second highest source of ed news? Social media.

That’s a lot of guesswork, memes and faulty memories.

Man with Sixteen College Degrees Can’t Read:  

Things that ARE apparent in this article:

  • Third grade is WAY too early to label ANY child a non-reader (or punish them by retaining them). It’s too early for labels, period.
  • When it comes to effective learning (the kind that sticks, and can be applied), experiences trump worksheets.
  • Continuously reading to your children, even when they are supposedly “reading to learn” at age eight, is absolutely the right thing to do.
  • Visual interpretation of text symbols is not more efficient or of higher value than hearing that text read aloud.
  • Many, many children are “bright but different.”

The Return of the Trad Teacher:

It strikes me that tradwives are just another glitzy, social media-driven facet of a larger wave of backlash against a whole lot of un-trad trends in American society: Full-blown reproductive freedom. The continued shrinkage of mainline religions. Honoring personal sex/gender choices. Women running for office and corner offices–and winning. And so on.

I also see lots of pushback against untraditional teaching, curriculum and school organization models. The whole “Science of Reading” battle rings very familiar to those of us who started teaching in the 1970s, when teachers were pushing back against the “Why Johnny Can’t Read” –because teachers theoretically weren’t teaching phonics–crusade in the late 50s.

Thanks for reading. Remember: Share the good stuff.