Category / social media

by nflanagan

We Love Billionaires!

As a middle school teacher, I spent a fair amount of time talking with kids—mostly 8th graders, going into high school—about what you might call their life plans. Were they thinking about college? Or the workforce? What should they focus on, as they reached the last phase of their free public schooling?

Most of the kids I taught were going to college—their (white, suburban) parents were planning on it. But very few kids in the 8th grade are settled on a career—and if they are, it often turns out to be the Wrong Thing.

More and more before I retired, my students (mostly boys) talked about wanting to be a billionaire. Didn’t seem to matter much how they got the money—professional sports or inventing a killer app, whatever. What was important was having a lot of money. To spend on cool things.

I have to believe that this desire to be rich has not abated among adolescents, given their current role models in Congress and the White House. It’s no secret that Americans admire the rich and famous, assuming they deserve their power. A look at the accrued wealth of US Senators will confirm: money gets people into office.

One would assume that in a time of rapidly rising prices, informed citizens—yup, the kids I had a hand in teaching—would understand that wealth inequality is driving many of our most egregious economic problems.

They’re grown up now. They understand that there are more important values than being filthy rich, right? Do they know that hoarding enormous wealth is not something to be admired?

Recently, a billboard went up on a well-traveled county intersection, here in NW Michigan. People Over Billionaires, it said. Vote Blue.

And it started a furious local conversation around just what it meant–always the sign of an effective message. There were letters to the editor claiming that billionaires paid more than their share of taxes (!) and “gave back” to the community.  (Spoiler: not true.)

Billionaires were our most productive citizens, the letters said–and we needed to respect them! There were also letters that pointed out, in much calmer and more elegant language than I’m using, that this thinking was pure bullshit.

I was kind of stunned by this—who thinks billionaires are rooting for the little people to enjoy better, publicly supported lives? Elon Musk? Jeff Bezos? Larry Ellison? The Waltons? One could go on and on. The word oligarchy might be used.

Last week, there was a widely shared cartoon floating around social media: An elderly gentleman is pushing a grocery cart. He says: ‘Tell me I’m wrong, but a country isn’t doing well if seniors can’t afford groceries, after working their whole lives.’

Seemed like a straightforward critique of steady inflation, to me, without getting into the weeds about tariffs or the national debt. I get groceries, like most Americans, and I know that prices have gone up significantly, and folks of both political persuasions on fixed incomes are hurting, on several fronts. But the comments were weird.

Leaving aside the usual flotilla of “you dumocrat libtards” remarks and obvious bot observations, there were dozens of people who claimed that they hadn’t found prices going up at all. Lots of accusations about greedy seniors wanting “free stuff” and spending younger generations’ money. Imagine having 45 years to save for retirement, then not doing so. Lazy!

Well, gee. Imagine going after the folks who built the middle-class economy, rather than the ones who destroyed it.

There’s been occasional talk, especially from those who study our history, about current parallels with the Gilded Age, c. 1870–1913. Trump frequently idealizes the late 19th century as America’s economic high point, especially embracing control of the economy with tariffs. Nobody in the Trump administration talks about soaring wealth inequality, dangerous corporate influence, or rampant corruption.

What gave people the idea that a plutocracy was a viable, even desirable, way to run the United States?

A couple days ago, Heather Cox Richardson had an excellent daily letter about the manifestations of wealth inequality—lack of accessible health care, loosening of regulations to benefit the very rich, etc. As she often does, she shared an historical publication that illuminates issues we are facing today: In 1883, sociologist William Graham Sumner published ‘What Social Classes Owe to Each Other,’ concluding that the answer was: nothing.

“Sumner called for a “laissez-faire” world in which those who failed should be permitted to sink into poverty and die to keep the U.S. from becoming a place where lazy people wanted a handout. In the end, such people needed to be purged from society for the good of the nation.

At the time, those succeeding in the industrializing economy nodded along with Sumner. The Republican New York Times editor wrote that even though Sumner’s “views are singularly hard and uncompromising, it is difficult to quarrel with their deductions, however one may feel one’s finer instinct hurt by their apparent cruelty.”

Apparent cruelty is what I found reading Project 2025, which has lots of–updated–language like Sumner’s.

But in the end, what will save us as a functional democracy is… people over billionaires. Right?

by nflanagan

 Lay off the Democrats

Full disclosure first: I am a Democrat. I sit on my county party’s executive board. I ran for county office as a Democrat in a ruby-red district (and lost but learned a lot). I have been a Democrat since my first presidential election (George McGovern, 1972), so I have seen the ups and downs of a two-party system for ages.

Here are some things I believe about partisan politics in 2026:

  • One of the two major parties better represents most Americans, a diverse bunch if there ever was one—economically, ethnically, politically, religiously, gender-wise.
  • Having multiple candidates to choose from in a primary makes parties stronger, although it can be harrowing when primary candidates go after each other.
  • Democrats are actually the party of the Big Tent, although Republicans occasionally suggest that their tent crosses boundaries.
  • We are in big trouble in 2026 on a number of fronts; counting on well-run—free and fair—elections is no longer a guarantee, for starters.
  • We need a new generation of leadership, but the way to get those new leaders elected is not to turn on the only party likely to provide support for progressivism.

Theoretically…in the midterms, we can appreciate all flavors of Democratic candidates, from avowed Democratic Socialists to outspoken Christians—because they’re being elected statewide or locally. If primaries work the way they’re supposed to, the most popular candidate perspective *in that context* will emerge as the favorite.

Here’s the thing: it may not be your preferred perspective. Which lets you choose—stick with the party you usually vote for, or decide to cross the gulf and vote for another party’s candidate who seems better, or decide not to vote. What flies in New York City may sink like a stone in, say, Iowa.

Win some, lose some. The goal is to get strong, attractive Democratic candidates and equally attractive Democratic policy ideas—then get them in office. And, as they said in The Music Man, you gotta know the territory.

Now, I am fully aware of a new generation of Democrats rising up, reaching out for things that have been pushed aside for decades: Universal health care. Affordable housing. Fair wages and worker protections. Family leave and childcare. Policies that other first-world nations have enjoyed for decades, stabilizing their workforce and making them happier.

I want those things, too. In fact, about two-thirds of Americans want universal health care, which includes plenty of Independent voters and even some Republicans. And three-quarters of Republicans—who skew older, anyway—like Medicare. I don’t think what we’re seeing in this super-heated primary season is about policy specifics, however. It’s about a desperate hope that we can stop the right-wing mutilation of the land of the free.

It makes me—as a local Democratic leader—happy to read about young, energetic candidates, willing to take on the sacred cows (both policy and human) in Congress or their statehouse. Here in Michigan, we have lots of exciting primary races. I hope we have a record-setting turnout in August, and Democrats tell us clearly what and whom they want.

Because we’re their support system—financially and in a dozen other ways. Democrats are looking for someone to take on the guy who’s fecklessly destroying the country, with his spineless minions. People want someone to fight for them, traditions be damned. But first—that someone must run. And running demands partisan support and funding.

If you only support one Democratic candidate, and your candidate loses, so you look around for someone to blame or refuse to vote for the alternate—well, may I remind you that Texas Republicans have already lined up and opened their checkbooks for a loathsome, despicable guy they impeached a few years ago?

I spend a lot of time perusing local conversations on social media—which, I realize, represent only a subset of voters.  I have been shocked by the number of posters who support a particular Democrat but are more than willing to trash the party, and in the process, trash every other candidate for that office. My guy, or bust.

I have even seen candidates—viable candidates with large followings—trash the Democratic party that they’re counting on to support them, should they make it through the primary. That boggles my mind. It’s like turning your back on family.

Robert Reich had a great column yesterday on the Common Goods we have enjoyed as Americans:

  • How we deal with disagreement
  • Truth
  • Trust
  • World leadership
  • Understanding what we owe each other as Americans
  • Political equality

Going after your preferred party damages these things. If you’re on the side of those who believe the ship can still be righted, please stop.

by nflanagan

The ‘Generational Collapse’ in Literacy

There’s been a robust edu-discourse bubbling up over an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education titled My Students Can’t Read. The (ahem) tl;dr: college students can no longer sustain attention to and comprehension of 20-page articles, so the professor-author of the article has to break such articles into  pieces and spoon-feed comprehension strategies to college freshmen.

My first thought: secondary teachers have been dealing with this syndrome for a long, long time. The author (Tyler Jagt) asks this question: If a majority of incoming students cannot read at a level the curriculum requires, are we admitting students we cannot serve, or offering a curriculum we cannot provide?

There are other questions to ask, when musing about a generational collapse in literacy, but my take on this is that admitting a student (and taking their tuition money) presumes that the institution is willing to provide both the curriculum and instruction that serves those students. Caveat emptor, when the buyer is choosing which students to enroll.

K12 public schools, of course, have no option of turning non-readers away. When I was in charge of assisting ESL students in middle school with their homework, there were individual teachers who used the excuse that they didn’t know how to teach kids to read, so struggling readers were not their problem. But there weren’t many teachers like that. Most K-8 teachers know that students are going to come to them with all levels of reading proficiency. They don’t have the luxury of deciding not to serve those students. They have to figure it out.

It’s actually a pretty good article (although it’s behind a paywall). Jagt resists blaming his students’ lack of understanding and reading stamina on the K-12 teachers who came before, and provides some research on how smartphone use changes the brain:

‘When a student tells me they “kept losing track” of a 20-page article, they may be describing a measurable neurological condition. The neural pathways that support sustained attention are built by use, and they atrophy without it. Your body is a use-it-or-lose-it system, and the brain is no exception.’

There’s also some well-supported evidence that the use of AI (as catch-all phrase to describe ChatGPT, Ask Gemini and other LLMs) has weakened the ability and willingness to write:

‘This is the first neurophysiological evidence that early reliance on LLMs measurably alters the brain’s engagement with writing tasks, and it is consistent with what those of us in front of classrooms are watching happen in real time.’

Jagt also blames the Common Core—which I think is not precisely accurate, although many curricula packages were adopted, K-12, in an effort to align with the Core and boost test scores, such as ‘the practice of pulling “evidence” from disconnected short passages, the same format used on the standardized tests that increasingly determine school funding.’

Dr. Paul Thomas reminds us that ‘there is at least some correlational association between the “science of reading” era of reading legislation (starting approximately around 2012-2014 and then spreading over the last decade) and a decline in students reading for fun, reading whole texts, and reading diverse texts as well as some of the so-called declines in test scores.’

This is not a matter of ‘kids today’ being more indolent than previous generations. We are clearly doing something wrong, beginning with prioritizing phonics in an attempt to boost 3rd grade scores over the slow pursuit of making meaning, and the pleasure of being a reader.

There are other explanations for the collapse of literacy (if, in fact, that’s what it is): the pandemic, the return of orality (what we had before literacy), and what might be called hero worship of cultural figures who see reading and books as pointless. When the POTUS prefers his daily security briefings in video form or, failing that, bullet points, it’s a tough task to convince your average seventh grader that reading a YA novel (183 pages!) is worthwhile.

But some things will always depend on the ability to comprehend the written word, the most reliable, portable and convenient source of information and analysis—and, for my money, entertainment. Won’t they?

We need to focus on the utility and pleasure of being a fluent reader, when the children we’re teaching are ready. Which may not be kindergarten or even first grade. It is the responsibility of pre-school teachers and Composition 101 teachers and all the teachers in between to invite students into the world of literacy. Because, not to put too fine a point on it, refusing to read makes you dumber.

Here’s an example, from local social media. A new restaurant opened up nearby and had not been open for a week when a vigilante group, dressed in black hoodies and backwards ball caps showed up, claiming to be looking for an employee who had been convicted of molesting a child. (This is something they do all over the state, apparently.)

After wandering around in the restaurant, disturbing patrons eating there for the first time, they were asked to leave. The police were called. The vigilantes posted on social media about being prevented from removing scum from the face of the earth. The restaurant posted back, saying nobody working there had a criminal record. And—when I stopped reading, there were 1700 comments discussing the event.

I confess—I was fascinated. I went to the restaurant’s page to see what the menu looked like and ended up getting a good look at how people perceive young men who think they’re improving society by tracking down sex abusers and humiliating them in public.

The comments were mostly laudatory for the vigilantes (#TeamJake!!!)—and short. A couple of words or maybe a sentence. Lots of repetition. Very little logic or thoughtfulness, but lots of inchoate rage at those who are hurting children.

Commenters who took a more restrained approach—What was the vigilantes’ evidence? Had they considered the impact on the new restaurant?—were scolded and accused of being child molesters themselves. Early in the comment thread, a man presented what I thought was a good case for letting trained law enforcement deal with convicted offenders. His comment was three paragraphs long, clearly written and clearly argued.

What happened next was interesting. Commenters went after the reasonable man: You expect me to read all that? Who do you think you are?  Blah blah blah. You probably have a record, too.

At least two dozen people accused him of being too smart for his own good, one of those pointy-headed liberals who think they know it all. People who read books and use big words, rather than relying on common sense.

It was proof to me that we have a lot of work to do if we want a literate nation.  

by nflanagan

I Read the News Today, Oh Boy

When I first heard about influencers, I thought—in my predictable Baby Boomer way—that the whole idea was ridiculous. People whose ‘career’ was influencing other people, paid for by subscriptions and sponsorships? Shallow people, famous for being famous, possessed of zero actual expertise, espousing fake ideas and images to make (lots of) money?

But it turns out that influencers are in it for something more than money: actual influence.

In politics, they have become ‘an infestation’:   “The internet is teeming with thousands of micro- and nano-influencers looking to make a name for themselves. These smaller influencers still have very engaged and loyal followers—making them important communication tools for campaigns. But they often lack an understanding of how politics works—or, more specifically, an appreciation for the tradeoffs that often must be made—and tend to spread content that revolves around conflict and misinformation.”

That’s what happens when you try to buy clout. You get what you pay for.

Over the past couple of years, I find that I have mostly stopped watching or reading the daily news in its conventional forms—newspapers, television, radio. I’m still consuming huge quantities of news, op-eds and information, but I like to think I’m paying for the most credible and valuable online content, verified facts and analysis.

Are my curated news providers giving me reliable information, and multiple trustworthy perspectives? Or are they just trying to influence me?

Here’s an example, from one of my daily reads, Bridge Magazine, a centrist, Michigan-focused news outlet:

“Schools are in trouble. Test scores don’t lie: Michigan ranks 44th for fourth-grade reading; less than 1 in 3 high school graduates are considered ready for college.”

First of all—it should be ‘fewer’ than one in three graduates. And that figure is erroneously measured by the SAT scores of all the HS juniors in Michigan, who are mandated to take the test whether they’re college-bound or not. Those scores are then compared to a subset of seniors in other states who are preparing to attend colleges that require a good SAT score for admission. Apples and oranges.

More importantly—test scores do lie, all the time. They’re also misinterpreted by journalists, some of whom probably mean well, but are being paid to make a particular point. Influencing your average reader to believe that Michigan public schools are failing, for example, tossing off context-free “data” as if it were God’s honest truth.

I am old enough to remember the first time I watched Fox News and began thinking about a future where there was no mainstream POV, and ordinary Joes could purchase the media stream that fit their beliefs. It seemed shocking at the time—but look. Here we are. At a point in history where the President of the United States gleefully posts an AI-generated video of himself wearing a crown and flying an airplane that drops shit on his constituents.  

“Republicans are known to be far more aggressive at paying off social media influencers than Democrats. Pay-for-post schemes have been rampant throughout the conservative commentariat during the Trump years (as studiously documented by Will Sommer). One reason being that there is just a lot more money at play.”

What do educators do when the students whose intellectual growth they are entrusted with believe things that are false and dangerous—because the influence of the internet has led them there? When the most important content and character-building discussions in school are suspect—or banned?Or when, God help us, the President’s “Special Advisor” suggests that we shouldn’t be teaching undocumented students at all?

What is our moral obligation to the kids we teach, when it comes to truth—and how they form their own opinions and civic engagement?

There’s a growing movement to expose lies and fact-check what gets circulated via social media. But how do we teach our students to be wary and cautious, to look at the background and motivation of those who put content out into the universe we share?

Also this: some influencers are doing good, sharing content that mainstream media is prevented or discouraged from programming. Some of my Facebook friends have had an amazing impact on my tiny northern Michigan community, simply by sharing their anger over what’s happening in the White House. There are days when I think we may get through this yet, just on the strength of local truth-tellers and people who act as social connectors.

Thoughts that make me feel better about where we get our news and how we interpret that news, both national stories and education stories:
“A funny thing happened on the way to the erasure of American history in favor of a whitewashed authoritarianism. The American people began to preserve the truth of who we have been.”                                Heather Cox Richardson

“You need to tell your story. If you are not telling your story, someone else is telling your story for you.” In an era where school choice has increased competition in K–12 public education, that statement has never been more relevant or more urgent.                                                                        Greg Wyman

What are you reading? Who do you believe?

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

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

Political Violence in the Classroom

In November of 2016, right after Donald Trump was elected for the first time, seventh graders at Royal Oak Middle School were captured on video shouting “Build that wall! Build that wall!”  in the school lunchroom. It drew immediate attention and media coverage, but like all once-shocking incidents, quickly faded from public view.

As events of the last week unfolded, it struck me that the blurry kids in the video would now be about the same age as Tyler Robinson, the man who shot Charlie Kirk. Were they now part of the cluster of young white men who spend all their time online, getting radicalized? Do they follow Nick Fuentes or hang out on 4Chan?

Or—best case scenario—had they merely been immature, clueless, early-adolescent jerks whose irresponsible, harmful “prank” of insulting and perhaps scaring classmates of color, was made clear to them by a community of teachers and parents? In one of the news clips from 2016, the Royal Oak Superintendent talks about how the perpetrators will be dealt with summarily, keeping in mind that youthful mistakes can be learning experiences.

Exactly.

Clueless early-adolescent jerks are a regular feature in middle school teachers’ clientele. Kids do dumb things. In between teaching students about the Bill of Rights and single-variable equations, teachers do double duty as both role models and arbitrators of appropriate behavior.

Because—despite the persistent myth that teachers should just spout content and inculcate skills, nothing more—learning happens in context. When some part of your class feels rejected, afraid or angry about being harassed in the cafeteria, nobody learns. Much of what we absorb in school are lessons about right and wrong. Civility and respect.

Things that weren’t on the lesson plan–no matter how old your students, or which subject you’re teaching. School is where students learn to deal with personal differences, taking turns and not always getting your way. And teachers—witness the illustration for this blog, just posted by a friend in a series of photos of her classroom—create materials, lessons and discussions to that effect, right out of the gate, even though it’s often considered not their job or, any more, none of their business.

We are at a point, this week, where teachers in twelve states have been fired or suspended for making remarks online about Charlie Kirk’s murder. In some states—you can guess which—state officials are inviting anonymous tips on teachers who may have said something in class that offended somebody, although the veracity of who said what, reported by students, then routed through parents, has to be uncertain at best.

Not to mention a giant waste of time at the beginning of the school year, as teachers are trying to build community and trust. Nor is any of this reducing the likelihood of the most politicized and terrifying violence in our classrooms: school shootings.

While teachers should absolutely keep their partisan loyalties to themselves, speaking about political violence is speaking about current events. As Brittany Page says:

“Political violence” isn’t just a conservative activist getting murdered.

Political violence is a Supreme Court that gives the green light for people to be stopped and detained based on their perceived race or ethnicity, what language they speak, where they work, and where they happen to be standing.

It is found in a society that tells you to start a GoFundMe to pay for your life-saving healthcare so your family doesn’t go bankrupt when you draw the short stick.

Click on the link. It’s a powerful piece, proof that we are all wading around in political violence every day, no matter how much they want us to shut up about it. It’s evil. To pretend it doesn’t exist makes it even more dangerous for all of us, including children.

How did we get here? Jonathan V. Last, at The Bulwark, said this:

‘Things have changed and it’s not hard to pinpoint the moment when the normalization of political violence re-emerged among our political elites. To pretend otherwise would be to hide our heads in the sand—to deny the plain political reality of the moment. But it doesn’t have to stay that way. Times change; people change.‘

The best part of that quote comes at the end. Times do change. People do change. And I would assert that changing people for the better happens in good schools, every day. Not all classrooms, not all playgrounds, not all teachers—but public schooling is an overall force for good, for a better, healthier nation.

In my time in the classroom, there have been regular encounters with politicized issues, from shootings to 9/11. In 1988, one of my students lost his father over Lockerbie Scotland, enroute to Detroit via Pan Am Flight 103, which was carrying a bomb planted by a Libyan citizen. Did we talk about that? Yes. I also know his pain was ultimately mitigated by the simple act of going to school each day.

Robert Reich: ‘If you examine our history, you’ll see that the core of that identity has not been the whiteness of our skin, or the uniformity of our ethnicity, or agreement on religion, or like-mindedness about sexual preference or orientation.

The core of our national identity has been the ideals we share: our commitments to the rule of law, to democratic institutions of government, to truth, to tolerance of our differences, to equal political rights, and to equal opportunity.‘

Every clause in that last paragraph ought to be taught every day in every classroom in America. It’s the antidote to political violence.

by nflanagan

What I Learned from my Dad about Politics and How it Applies to 2026

I am a big fan of Jess Piper, a veteran teacher from Missouri, who left the classroom to run for office, and has since reshaped the conversation around why red-staters vote against their own interests. Piper writes often about a childhood spent bouncing around the south, and the family values that influenced her.

When people (including myself here) shake their heads and wonder how so many citizens–despite glaring, flagrant evidence to the contrary–can still stubbornly believe that Trump is leading the country  on the right track, it’s helpful to read Piper’s blog. She gets it.

Mostly, I read Piper for her insights on working-class voters–because my own father, were he still alive, would (despite many years of voting for Democrats, post-War) probably be a Trump supporter, voting against his own interests.

Not a careless, “protect my wealth” country-club Republican. But a grievance-driven voter who resented those he believed were simply and unfairly handed benefits and perks, things he would never enjoy, no matter how hard he worked.

Fear and resentment—and the overwhelming conviction that the little guy never gets ahead—were deeply embedded in his character. That doesn’t mean he was not a good father; he absolutely was, caring for his family and living up to his responsibilities as a hard-working adult and citizen who never missed an election. He was a proud Teamster, a church-goer, and the man who drove me 90 miles one-way to take flute lessons at the university.

My dad served in World War II, in the Army Air Corps (later the US Air Force) in the Pacific theatre. His plane was shot down, in 1944, over the Sea of Japan, and the crew was rescued by an Australian sub. He lost his 19-year old brother Don in the first wave of Marines taking Iwo Jima in February of 1945. I wrote more about these things here, explaining why my dad really never got over the war. But it was more than his wartime experiences that molded his character.

He often expressed the sense that he’d been cheated—that other, less-deserving people were moving ahead, because they had money, or were currying favor, while he (a realist from the poor side of the tracks) was left behind. He voted for George Wallace in 1968, because Wallace claimed there wasn’t a dime’s worth of difference between the two parties: both were corrupt and run by elites. Sound familiar?

Thom Hartmann’s new piece– Culture Is Where Democracy Lives or Dies, Because Politics Always Follows the Story a Nation Tells Itself—goes some way to explaining what’s happening today, but also why my dad, surrounded by protests against the Vietnam war and girls burning their bras, turned to a man who supported segregation and repudiated progressivism: ’ Like no candidate before, Wallace harvested the anger of white Americans who resented the progressive changes of the 1960s. Wallace supporters feared the urban violence they saw exploding on television. With tough talk and a rough-hewn manner, Wallace inspired millions of conservative Democrats to break from their party.’

Like many of Trump’s supporters today, my dad saw Wallace as a truth-teller, an advocate for the working man, someone who would work to defend cultural norms around race, gender, authority and social policy. Even when those norms were outmoded, unjust or morally repugnant.

Today, I know better than trying to talk an irrational, ruby-red voter out of their convictions. I really do understand how pointless, even damaging, it is to accuse Trump voters of destroying democracy and erasing progress. Because I spent, literally, years of my life trying to (cough) enlighten my father, who treated me like other fathers of the era treated their know-it-all college-student kids: as spoiled brats who needed to let the real world take a whack at them.

My father died in 1980, of a brain tumor, at the untimely age of 58. I never changed him, but he never changed me. He thought a college education was a waste of time and money, although when I graduated, he came to commencement exercises and danced with me at the Holiday Inn afterward.

 Later, it dawned on me: the fact that he and my mother couldn’t contribute financially to my college education, and couldn’t help me navigate enrollment, might have been part of his insistence that college was for the privileged, not families like ours.

All of this happened in a time when news and opinion came from three mainstream TV channels and the Muskegon Chronicle. Who do Trump  voters turn to now for news? Is that source supporting their racism, sexism, xenophobia and bitterness? Is it filled with fact-free resentment?

Where do we start in changing minds and hearts? I wish I knew.

by nflanagan

Teach Your Children Well

It used to be fairly common in Traverse City, Michigan—a Michael Moore sighting. I once stood in line behind him at a Coldstone Creamery on Front Street (no longer there, alas). During the summer TC Film Festival (also no longer in existence), he was everywhere, leading panel discussions and walks around TC’s beautiful, turn-of-last-century downtown neighborhoods.

Michael Moore’s star has faded here, for various reasons. He’s never been an easy person to watch on TV, full of himself and, sometimes, an explosive but unreliable narrator of what’s happening in this country. You certainly know where he stands—but he can be a grating spokesperson.

Nevertheless, I read his free newsletter and found his April 30 column on the Vietnam War—where he points out that we’ve never as a nation, admitted our guilt or apologized–moving and worth deep consideration:

“They kicked the ass of a military superpower — and sent 60,000 of our young men home to us in wooden boxes (nine of them from my high school, two on my street) and hundreds of thousands more who returned without arms, legs, eyes or the mental capacity to live life to its fullest, forever affected, their souls crushed, their nightmares never-ending. All of them destroyed by a lie their own government told them about North Vietnam “attacking” us and the millions of Americans who at first believed the lie. This past November 5th showed just how easy it still is for an American president, a man who lies on an hourly basis, to get millions of his fellow citizens to fall for it. 

I think we need to do this for our children’s sake, for our grandchildren, for the sake of our future if there still is one for us. We should take just one day every year and participate in a national day of reckoning, recollection, reflection, and truth-telling, where together we actively seek forgiveness, make reparations and further our understanding of just how it happened and how easy it is for the wealthy and the political elites and the media to back such horror, and then to get the majority of the country to go along with it… at least at first. And how quickly after it’s over we decide that we never have to talk about it again. That we can learn nothing from it and change nothing after it. 

Teach our children this truth about us. About our history. Give them this knowledge and with it comes the opportunity for us to change and make different choices for our future. To be a different people. A peaceful people. The Germans did it. The Japanese, too.”

And here we are, again, creating an unnecessary war—this time on our own city streets. And the question bubbles up: Are we teaching our children the truth about the place where they live? And, even more important, what will happen if/when they believe the lies their government is peddling?

I was interested in this observation from the new National Teacher of the Year, Ashlie Crosson, from Pennsylvania: “Teachers shouldn’t shy away from using challenging texts and conversations in their classrooms, even if they touch on divisive topics.“

It’s a reasonable statement you might expect from any accomplished teacher—but one that could now get you fired in some states and districts. Chaos and fear and flooding the zone are part of media assessments of public education in June 2025, along with smiling photos of HS graduates and end-of-year academic honors.

Robert Reich said it well:
“Why is Trump trying to cancel “Sesame Street,” which has helped children learn to read and count for over half a century? Why is he seeking to destroy Harvard University? Why is he trying to deter the world’s most brilliant scientists from coming to the United States?

Because he is trying to destroy American education — and with it, the American mind.”

Is there anything teachers can do to stop the ongoing attack on becoming genuinely well-educated? To not be fearful of ideas or painful truths?

Individual teachers are seldom visible enough to draw widescale media-fed wrath (which is why I found the new National TOY’s remarks brave)—political opponents of public education generally target teacher unions, well-endowed universities, and programs that provide free breakfast and lunch or wraparound healthcare for kids who need it.

With the upcoming NO KINGS National Protests, I’ve seen lots of social media memes urging people to do what they can. To march and carry signs, of course—but also to speak to those in their circle of influence, to write, to model democratic principles. To behave as engaged citizens—and to teach their children the truth about our history, with the goal of becoming a peaceful people.

Let’s teach our children well. (click—it’s worth it)



by nflanagan

Bad Words in Schools

Over the past few years, I have volunteered in four local schools, in varied programs. And—as a retired veteran teacher—I understand why students’ identities and actions must be rigorously protected. But I want to share this recent experience, because—even with 30-odd years in various middle school and high school classrooms and plenty of exposure to Things Kids Say—it rocked me. Which school, which program—doesn’t matter.

It’s a marker about the coarsening of our culture—but the question is why.

So–there’s an 8th grade boy who’s talking to other middle school boys. They’re not huddling in the corner or trying not to be heard. The boy refers to a girl they know as a “Hawk Tuah girl”.  The other boys snicker. There is some head-turning in the room, including another adult volunteer.

What did you call her? she asks, curious. And the 8th grade boy proceeds to share an accurate definition of “hawk tuah”—out loud, with sound effects. Boys try to suppress their mirth, again. Girls walk away, clustering together. The other volunteer turns to me, wide-eyed, and says: Have you ever heard that word before?

Unfortunately, yes. Just didn’t expect to hear it explicated in a middle school classroom.

I’ve seen and heard plenty of appalling things in the classroom. I’ve heard angry students drop the F- bomb and nice girls call other nice girls ‘whores’ when their boyfriend showed interest. Also, if you haven’t been in a K-12 classroom since your own experience there, the line of what is acceptable and what will get you sent to the office has definitely moved over time.

My own vocabulary—both public and private—is hardly pure. Sometimes, I’m kind of like the dad in that You Tube video, trying to explain how the word fuck loses its power depending on how it’s used. Because this isn’t precisely about naughty words, per se.

Sending a kid who swears (especially if it’s not habitual) to the office isn’t ever likely to achieve anything useful. Plus—with social media and personally selected entertainment in every teenager’s pocket—it’s become harder and harder to say what is and is not overtly wrong.

The 8th grader learned how to define certain girls from watching videos and social media. He’s 13 and has no reliable filter for “inappropriate”—trust me—and he wasn’t swearing. So who do we blame for his language, let alone his idea that someone he knows and goes to school with just might be a Hawk Tuah girl, ha-ha? Do you call his parents? What will that yield?

I think about the well-meaning MI school official who compelled two middle schoolers to remove “Let’s Go Brandon” sweatshirts—and how the school got sued, won in court, but are now looking at an appeal supported by the so-called Liberty Justice Center.  I’m thinking there’s probably an assistant principal who wishes he’d just let those sweatshirts and the prepubescent political prisoners-in-training wearing them go.

Because that’s where we are now. There is no reliable list (like George Carlin’s seven dirty words) of what words are OK and Not OK.

Early in my career, I was called into the office by my principal, who said she’d fielded a complaint about me swearing in class—and the parent had already called the superintendent. I was genuinely mystified. What did I (supposedly) say?

Ass, she said. You said [Student] was an ass. Yesterday. He went home and told his mom you swore at him in class.

Well, the truth of the matter was this: The kid (a percussionist) was dropping cymbals on the tile floor. I directed him to stop. So he started kicking over suspended cymbals and temple blocks, which are on easily tipped stands. I took him out in the hall for a cheek-to-cheek, and chatted with him (severely, I admit) about why was he back there acting like a jackass? He had no response.

His mom, of course, hadn’t heard that part of the story. But when she did, she said that dropping equipment was no excuse for a teacher swearing. Damaging expensive equipment that all the bands use? Not a factor, apparently.

Today, language is at the heart of the ongoing, month-long trashing of our entire federal government—way more trigger words than George Carlin ever dreamed of. From a piece in the Atlantic:

Fear that other words could run afoul of the new [anti-DEI] edicts led anxious agency officials to come up with lists of potentially problematic words on their own. These included: Equity. Gender. Transgender. Nonbinary. Pregnant people. Assigned male at birth. Antiracist. Trauma. Hate speech. Intersectional. Multicultural. Oppression. Such words were scrubbed from federal websites.

Language is powerful. When we are afraid to speak freely, explore ideas, argue about meanings and outcomes from the language used in the classroom, we’re in real trouble. A whole lot of the purpose and success of a quality education depends on the language we use, and the way students understand it.

Should adults—calmly and dispassionately–explain to kids why their language may be offensive? I know that makes me sound old and out-of-touch.  

But I keep thinking about the girls in that classroom, listening to the boy describe sexual acts he’d heard about on social media, and the girls who were willing to engage in them. It felt like witnessing an obscenity, performed by someone who didn’t fully realize it was offensive, that it wasn’t just about sexual behaviors, but about denigrating all girls?

There’s been a cultural shift in schools.

Did it start with kids yelling “Build That Wall!” in November, 2016?