Love People? Really?

 And the Lord said to me, "I really need you to love people."

And I said, "Ughh. People are so annoying."

And the Lord said, "They are my children."

And I said, "That doesn't make them lovable. They're still annoying."

And the Lord said, "You are my child, and I love you—today, tomorrow, and always."

And I said, "Yeah, but I'm not annoying. I'm a delight."

And the Lord raised an eyebrow at me.

And I said, "Yeah, okay, that's fair. I'll work on it." 

EOY 2023-24

Thus the 2023-24 school year comes to a close.

This has probably been the most challenging year of my teaching career. I took on two new subjects this year and dealt with a completely different student population. It's been exhausting.

It all started last spring when registration numbers came in. We had lots and lots of kids sign up for biology and Earth science. (Chemistry and physics enrollments have dropped precipitously since the Regents Scholarship, which required both, went away.) We lost two biology teachers to other schools last spring, so we hired two new ones to replace them. Even so, the two new biology teachers plus the one who was still here was not enough to cover all of the sections required. So our earth science teacher switched over to biology. 

So that took care of biology, but we still had eight sections of Earth science to fill. We hired someone from another school teach four of the sections, plus a couple of ELL sections. I know, strange combination of assignments. I had the content knowledge to teach Earth science, but I didn't have the endorsement. So to get the endorsement, I took a science methods course at the beginning of the summer last year. And two Praxis exams. Which means this school year really started for me last June. 

So I ended up taking on the other four sections of earth science—my first experience teaching freshman. It was all that I had anticipated, and less. I taught primarily sophomores for the first 8 or 9 years of my career, and they brought plenty of Middle School crap to the table. But it was nothing like these guys. In fairness, there were a few really good students. But there were a whole lot more that brought previously unforeseen levels of apathy, entitlement, and general dysfunction to the table. I don't know how my Mom did it for almost 30 years. 

This was also my first year teaching concurrent enrollment astronomy. I'd been to the training, and I had talked to the liaison at SLCC. They already had a syllabus in place, with the schedule for lessons and exams and chapter assignments and all of that jazz. All I needed to do was direct my students to the SLCC Canvas site. But then the shoe dropped. All the assignments on SLCC's Canvas, including the quizzes and exams, we're administered through a third-party software package that students have to pay extra for. So SLCC told me not to have our students use it. Now, all of a sudden, I'm having to come up with all of the assignments. Oh, and the new gradebook software we use wasn't set up to emulate their grading categories, standards, and requirements. On the other hand, these students were, for the most part, unusually dedicated and conscientious about learning the material and getting stuff done. That was enormously refreshing.

So by second semester, five of the seven class periods I was teaching were subjects I had never taught before. I'd anticipated that there was going to be a learning curve. I did not anticipate that it was going to feel like Mount Everest. 

But I made it through. Today was graduation, and a lot of kids that I've got to known over the past few years became grown-ups today. There is much to be said for the satisfaction of seeing someone that you have taught move on to the next level. 

Before graduation we had our end of year teacher celebration at school. We said goodbye to about 10 different teachers today, some retiring, some moving on to other positions, and one taking a job as a college professor on the East Coast. Three of the people who retired today are people that I have leaned on heavily since my first day of teaching fifteen years ago. Veterans, friends, mentors. It's going to be hard not seeing them from now on. 

One of the other people we're losing is one of our chemistry teachers, who's taking a position as the district science curriculum specialist. It's kind of funny. When we moved into the new building in 2013, I was in one of the two chemistry classrooms. When the honors physics teacher retired 6 years ago, I had just earned an endorsement to teach physics. I was offered his position as well as his room, so I moved. Since then, no teacher has stayed in my old room for more than two years. Now this latest teacher is gone after one academic year. My room is like our version of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

So all in all, it's been a crazy end to a crazy year. You hear athletes after a big game talk about leaving everything on the field. Well, that's how I feel right now. I've left it all in the classroom this year. I am physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually exhausted. I want nothing more right now than to crawl into bed and stay there for 3 or 4 days. It's not realistic, of course, because I have kids. Still, it's nice to think about.

But hey, only 10½ weeks until next school year starts!

Latter-Day Ain'ts

A couple of weeks ago, someone I follow on social media told of how she'd once been in a rap battle with a Mormon missionary and dropped a line something like "More like Latter-day Ain'ts". It wasn't mean-spirited or anything like that. It was meant to be a funny slice of life moment, and most people took it as such.

Like most of her posts, this one generated a wide spectrum of comments. Most were harmless and even amusing. Some of them were uncomplimentary towards the LDS community; a few even questioned what a self-professed Christian was doing associating with Mormon missionaries in the first place.

You know, same old same old.

The phrase "Latter-day Ain'ts" got me thinking. I can't speak for anyone else, but here are some of my personal "Latter-day Ain'ts".

——

Ain't claiming to be perfect. I do the best I know how, and with the inspiration of Heaven, I try to be a better person today than I was yesterday.

Ain't telling you that my church is better than yours. But we do have a perspective that you may not have considered.

Ain't trying to be like other Christians, because that's not the point. The point is to be more like Christ, to the extent that I can learn and do what that involves.

Ain't here to judge you. That's not my job. I'm here to love you and to help you when you need help, because that's what the One I'm pledged to follow would do.

Ain't a blind follower. My beliefs and my convictions are my own, hard-won through study, meditation, prayer, and a lot of personal experience. I'm not a novice, and my faith is not fragile.

Ain't just checking boxes. I don't avoid alcohol, drugs, tobacco, casual sex, gambling, and the rest just because my church tells me to. I do it because experience—mine and others'—tells me those things don't make my life happier and don't make me a better person.

Ain't interested in anti-Mormon rhetoric. I was a missionary in the Bible Belt. You really think you know something I haven't heard and debunked a dozen times over? You don't. Don't waste my time, or yours.

Ain't expecting freedom from trials and tribulations. The idea that following Christ leads to an easy life is baffling to me. It certainly wasn't easy for Him. It's the hard times that make us stronger, not the easy ones. Learning to overcome hard times is the whole reason we're here.

Ain't complacent. I don't believe that God sent me here to be who I am, but to grow into who He knows I can become. Exaltation is a process, not an event.

Ain't going to try to justify myself to anyone. People may not agree with my opinions, my positions, or the way I live my life, and that's fine. I'm not accountable to them.

And finally, Ain't concerned about the fires of Hell, because like Nephi of old, I know in Whom I have trusted.

I think that pretty well covers it.

The Donkey and The Tiger

 "The grass is blue!" shouted the donkey.

"No, the grass is green," replied the tiger.

"It is not! It's blue! It's obviously blue! I can't believe you could think it's green!"

"Nevertheless, the grass is green," replied the tiger.

And so the argument went on, until the donkey demanded they take the matter up with the Lion, the Judge and King of the Jungle. 

Brought before the Lion, the donkey pleaded his case. "Oh great and wise Lion, is the grass not, in fact, blue?"

"As you say," said the Lion.

"The tiger contradicts and embarrasses me! Will you not punish him for his disrespect?"

"Very well," replied the Lion. "The tiger will spend a week in silence."

"Yes! Finally! Thank you!" And the donkey went noisily on his way.

"You will accept your punishment?" asked the Lion.

"I will," replied the tiger. "But I must ask why I am being punished, as the grass really is green."

"Your punishment has nothing to do with the color of the grass," said the Lion.

"Then why?"

"Because it is not proper for an intelligent, reasonable creature like you to allow yourself to be caught up in the arguments of a jackass, and less so that you would then involve me in the problem as well."

The Lion's voice then softened. "There are some creatures who will not respond to logic and reason. They do not seek for the truth; they only seek their own satisfaction. You will never convince them with facts, because their convictions are independent of reality. You cannot win an argument with them, because they are incapable of admitting there is anything they do not know.

"In the face of such creatures, the only effective response is silence. Take a week and remind yourself what that sounds like. Your life will be happier, and your mind will be at peace."

The tiger bowed his head in respect. "You are wise, my King. Thank you."

Tomorrow, It Could Be Me

For those who need clarification: This has to do with the most recent mass shooting. A school shooting ... or maybe I should say, another school shooting. This time it's an elementary school in Texas. Is my school next? You can't be in my profession and not think about things like that.

So what do we do about it? Nothing. Not. One. Damned. Thing. Nothing ever changes. Nothing ever gets done. We have the capacity to make real changes. But we don't have the will. We won't take simple, proven, common sense steps to cut down on mass shootings because ... reasons. Honestly, I don't know why.

Actually, I do know why. Because there are too many people who value "Rights" in the abstract without any consideration of concrete consequences. Too many organ grinders singing the halcyon song of "GUNS=FREEDOM!!!1!" and too many monkeys who follow because it never occurs to them that they don't have to. Too many moral absolutists who think any kind of gun legislation is a slippery slope to a dystopian Socialist police state. Too many who, in their heart of hearts, doesn't see any of this as a problem because nothing bad happens to them.

And let's not forget the corporations and political organizations who have too much to lose if the status quo changes even a little bit.

So what do we offer? "Thought and Prayers™". Because it's all we've got. We call upon God to save us, because it is inconceivable to us that we might have the capacity to save ourselves. 

We could. But we won't.

The problem is that God, in my experience, has never promised to save us in spite of ourselves. In His wisdom, God never solves for us problems that we have the capacity to solve for ourselves. He may move mountains for us if the need arises ... but in most cases, He hands us a shovel and moves us to start digging.

"Thoughts and Prayers™" are not the solution to the current and ongoing problem of mass shootings. God won't wash the blood from our collective hands if we won't even turn on the water.

...And the Truth Shall Make You Free

 I was reminded of a couple of quotes today:

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back.” ― Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark

“People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true, or because they are afraid it might be true. People’s heads are full of knowledge, facts, and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true. People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool.” ― Terry Goodkind, Wizard's First Rule

I believe that the truth does have the power to make us free, but only if we are willing to accept it and to act on it.

Would that more of us would do so. Or could do so.

Twenty Years, And For What?

 I've read a lot in the last few days about how the terrorist attacks of September 11th changed our country. About how they brought us together. About how, at least for a time, it didn't matter if we were Republicans or Democrats, black or white, rich or poor, it only mattered that we were all united as Americans.

I wish I could agree with that sentiment.

Yes, it was like that for a while. For a short time, we temporarily put aside our competing agendas and our animosity in the face of something that threatened all of us, regardless of who we were. For a while, we were all proud to be Americans. If only it could have lasted.

It didn't take long for the paranoia to erupt. Prejudice, animosity, and outright hatred against people from the Middle East (and even people who just looked like them) reared its ugly head in short order. We now had an enemy against whom to vent our anger. Nothing unites America like a  "Them" for "Us" to oppose.

Unscrupulous leaders fanned the flames of this anger into open violent conflict. Driven by our collective need to avenge ourselves of our dead, Congress and the White House plunged the nation headlong into a war of revenge that somehow blossomed into two wars of revenge. Over the intervening twenty years, profiteers in government and industry have made millions, while thousands of young Americans have died in the mountains and deserts half a world away from home.

When we realized just how badly we had been hoodwinked, we just became angrier. But now, instead of uniting us against a common foe, our anger led us to fight with each other on a scale not seen for decades.

There was a time, believe it or not, when Republicans and Democrats could disagree without becoming disagreeable. Those days are long gone. Disagreement led to animosity which led to finger pointing which led to name calling which led to the current political climate. Our so-called leaders from opposing parties no longer talk to each other. They shout at each other, and the louder they shout and the more vitriol they hurl at the other side, the more successful they are and the more loyal their supporters become. People from the other Party are no longer Americans, or even the loyal opposition. They are enemies and traitors. 

 E pluribus unum? From many, one? That hasn't been true for a long time.

Even in the midst of a global pandemic, the worst outbreak of disease this planet has seen in a century, all we can do in the United States is yell at each other over how we've responded. COVID-19 presents a greater threat to most Americans than the Taliban ever did, but we won't take the steps necessary to eliminate it because it interferes with our political loyalties. Our politics have literally become more important than our lives, or the lives of our neighbors.

In the midst of such division, I see little hope for the United States of America. We are no longer one nation, under God or otherwise. We are no longer one people. We have let 20 years of anger and mistrust and name calling turn us against one another, so that our tribal loyalties mean more to us than the future of our country. 

Make no mistake, neither side holds all the answers. If we as a nation are to turn this thing around, we have to learn to listen to each other again. We have to stop whitewashing our own sins while loudly advertising the sins of the other side. We have to commit ourselves to a path that leads to liberty and justice for all, not just the ones who happen to agree with us.

Yeah, I don't see that happening.

When the Taliban launched the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, their goal was to undermine America, or even destroy it if they could. All in all, I'd have to say they've done a pretty damn good job of it.