Attica Forgotten

Prison are, almost by their nature, places where people become forgotten, but in September 1971, most of the nation's attention was focused on a prison in upper-state New York. It was the Attica State Penitentary, a maximum security prison. Over one thousand inmates, predominantly African American and Puerto Rican rioted, took hostages, and made a list of demands. They wanted federal takeover of the prison, better conditions, amnesty for the crimes committed during the revolt and the removal of the prison’s superintendent. They didn't get it. The prisoners demands to meet with the governor were ignored. In the morning of September 13th, police helicopters dropped tear gas into the courtyard and within 6 minutes, 2200 lethal missiles were discharged. 43 people were killed. 29 years later, the state of New York would pay $8 million dollars to compensate prisoners for documented harassment and torture. The Attica riot would encompass major themes of the time: racism, civil rights, abuse of power and more.

How many students know about this event today? What questions does it raise about our government? About the use of violence by the state? About the inequalities of the justice system? About the factors influencing crime and poverty in America? About what information goes into textbooks and what gets shuffled away? If the study of history has purpose, then it has to be found in the struggle of ethical choices made today concerning the past. Only in doing so can we create or discover our moral compass and national identity. Today, questions regarding inmates in the 'war on terror' are similar to those asked after Attica. Is torture justified? Are inmates entitled to rights and representation? How do we dispense justice? These are questions that need to be asked... if we don't forget Attica.

The Day

Compassion. It's really an underestimated strength. But in the day-to-day work of teaching in a high school, it doesn't get the credit it deserves. On this day, in the middle of my sometimes-mundane activities, I was reminded of my memories of 'the day'. Serendipitously, I was teaching a lesson similar to the one I was covering on Tuesday, seven years ago. My mind exploded then, filled with a strange sense of historical obligation and emotional shock. How fare have we come? How have I changed? What have I learned? How can I get back the feeling of total and complete compassion for everyone in the world that I had on that day, in that moment? The dominoes have fallen. Cause and effect have left their mark on America's role in the world since 'the day'. I've changed too. I've found love. I am more complete and not as fearful of the future. I've stood taller, with a purpose that comes with age. But then again, I don't know if I fully understand more about the world, about myself or about the nature of that compassion that my world found when it needed it the most. Each day is another step. With my students, I think that there's an opportunity for my search to continue. Tomorrow will be September 12th. Everything changes, but nothing is ever truly lost.

The Lyceum in 4-112

It's the time to return to the books and the talk. School has begun and my classes seem to be filled to the rim. My AP US History class, all 29 of them, seem to be unafraid of the material and the challenge and seem to be rebuffing the rumors of the class being 'impossible'. Well, that's an accomplishment in itself. You guys rock! The Multicultural Studies class is also huge, but again, a great microcosm of society. Debate is also filled with students who seem, so far, really excited about the resolution and their potential to become a critical thinker and speaker. All in all, it looks like a good semester. I've begun to introduce some of the tech-geek components of the class with positive results. I am going to keep the practice of using email to communicate with students and parents. The forum is going to be a place where ideas get tossed around, battered, propped up again and then kicked again for good measure. I'm going to tone down the idea of posting lessons on the forum and transfer more of that to the wiki page this year. Wetpaint seems to be a more friendly host than pbwiki, but I'll have to see throughout the semester how it holds up to usability and security. Podcasts and my video library give me so many more options in the classroom, but I have to balance my use of video in the class with time constrictions and other content. This year is definitely a year of change. The presidential election is a necessary and powerful teaching opportunity. I am going to use the most controversial issues in my debate course, and build connections to both AP US History and Multicultural Studies. There's also a lot of change at the high school. We have a new superintendent, new MCAS challenges in science and history, new mandates for daily agendas and lesson plans, and lots of new staff. This is definitely a year to feel 'on my toes', but life without challenges is super boring. Today was a good day, but tomorrow is always better.

The LaHave River

I'm back from an annual vacation to Canada, specifically Nova Scotia. My maternal grandfather wasa born here in the early 1900's on the LaHave River, south of Bridgewater. At the age of 13, he was sent to work on a schooner with his uncle. Norwood Richards had 9 other brothers and sisters, but he is one of the few to leave Canada, settling in Fairhaven, MA. In the 1970's he built a small summer ranch overlooking the river, and my family has been lucky enough to use it as a vacation house ever since. My wife and our two dogs love it there. Although the fog settled in for most of our vacation, we read many books, played long board games into the night, and had many long hikes on the Atlantic shore. It was great!

Emerson's Scholar

I recently downloaded a podcast of Ralph Waldo Emerson's, "The American Scholar", an address to the Phi Beta Kappa Society in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1837. While jogging, I thought of how I might use this literary piece to introduce historical and literary analysis into my AP US History class in the fall. Emerson always spoke directly to me in my youth, but then again, I was very ready to listen to his messages. I was lost and needed to find myself. Today, almost three decades later, I believed I had found a place for myself in society, but I wonder how close I am to Emerson's challenge of 'man thinking'.

The old fable covers a doctrine ever new and sublime; that there is One Man,--present to all particular men only partially, or through one faculty; and that you must take the whole society to find the whole man. Man is not a farmer, or a professor, or an engineer, but he is all. Man is priest, and scholar, and statesman, and producer, and soldier. In the divided or social state, these functions are parceled out to individuals, each of whom aims to do his stint of the joint work, whilst each other performs his. The fable implies, that the individual, to possess himself, must sometimes return from his own labor to embrace all the other laborers. But unfortunately, this original unit, this fountain of power, has been so distributed to multitudes, has been so minutely subdivided and peddled out, that it is spilled into drops, and cannot be gathered. The state of society is one in which the members have suffered amputation from the trunk, and strut about so many walking monsters,--a good finger, a neck, a stomach, an elbow, but never a man. Man is thus
metamorphosed into a thing, into many things. The planter, who is Man sent out into the field to gather food, is seldom cheered by any idea of the true dignity of his ministry. He sees his bushel and his cart, and nothing beyond, and sinks into the farmer, instead of Man on the farm. The tradesman scarcely ever gives an ideal worth to his work, but is ridden by the routine of his craft, and the soul is subject to dollars. The priest becomes a form; the attorney, a statute-book; the mechanic, a machine; the sailor, a rope of a ship. In this distribution of functions, the scholar is the delegated intellect. In the right state, he is, Man Thinking. In the degenerate state, when the victim of society, he tends to become a mere thinker, or, still worse, the parrot of other men's thinking.

1,000 Miles

Yesterday, I passed the 1,000 mile mark using my Nike Plus pedometer! Even though I had taken a few months off over the last year or so, for many months I was averaging about 80-100 miles per month. I bought a Lifestyle treadmill, new sneakers and began to really enjoy regular exercise. The euphoria felt after a hard run and a cold shower was something I really began to value. Things were changing for me. I even noticed that my thinking changed during runs. I became both reflective and imaginative with a clarity I didn't fully possess on an average day. It was awesome. Now, I am going for another 1,000 within 12 months. I hope my kness hold up.

Mr. Oliver

Yesterday, Joe Oliver passed away. He was 56 years old and had worked in my school system in different capacities for over 34 years. Mr. Oliver was the headmaster of New Bedford High School in 1996 when I applied for a job there. He told me on a couple of occasions later that although his decision to hire me came with some costs to him (as the other candidate for the position had 'political' connections to influencial people in the district), he always believed that he made the right choice. Mr. Oliver was the person who approached me after 10 years of teaching with an opportunity to enroll in an administrative training program (NISL). After trying to explain to him the reasons why I wouldn't be a good choice for the program (no interest in promotion, a 'question authority' personality, a student/classroom focus on education, etc.), he told me that he believed that I had leadership potential and that adding my perspective to the district, we would both improve. I did it. In those sessions and in committee meetings, he would challenge me to learn and do more. Mr. Oliver was an incredibly knowledgeable, deeply committeed, and a very focused educator. He will be sincerely missed.