DUUUUUUUCK...

My Granny's maiden name is Robertson - no relation to the infamous Duck Dynasty clan. Speaking of which, Phil ain't doin' so hot right now. But, I can't totally blame Phil for his ignorant, racist, homophobic, or more thoroughly, xenophobic rant to GQ. He's a product of his environment. He was literally raised in a swamp. His young life epitomized the redneck culture of the South. (This includes his "salvation" experience.) And, with no repose from this environment for his 67 years, Phil can't be expected to hold any other opinions than he expressed to GQ.

But.

 Let's review this from another angle. "Alex" my fictional example, is gay. Apparently, he/she grew up in an environment of abuse and neglect of some sort. Over time, this abuse and neglect led him/her to so miss the guidance of someone of the same sex that he/she developed an uncontrollable mental and physical attraction to the same sex. Their desire may be offensive, but we can't judge. They are simple a product of their environment.

Phil vs. Leslie...

Rednecks...

With very different

outcomes

I digress...

Mending Fences and Building Bridges

Despite tight finances and a worrisome, but controlled, sickness in the family, life is pretty good right now. My partner and I are newlyweds. We've been fortunate enough to not only dream about plans. We are able to see some coming to fruition. Hank finishes his degree next month. I am finally, seriously writing a book. Together, we bought a vehicle large enough for "family" vacations with the dogs, and we each see the future with a bit more peace of mind, if not growing sense of adventure.

On a more individual level, I spent much time in reflection over the past couple of months. Reflecting on my relationships, personal and professional. Reflecting on what I consider to be the most important things and more importantly how to give those things their priority.  In short, I've been exploring my life philosophies. And, in the end, I'm pleased with most of what's been explored.

In "shaking the fences," I found some areas that need my attention; these areas are not so much in disrepair as needing some shoring up. And to borrow an old, religious term: I want to name it and claim it, instead of faking it until I make it.

NANOWRIMO

After so many months of not making Utmost my "utmost," one might think this post full of inspirational and/or life influencing statements. Ummm... it's not. For one, I've knocked out about half a bottle of Jim Beam Maple, and it's 1:00 AM after a pretty full day at work. For two, and the purpose of this post, I wrote a little over 1,400 words on the first day of National Novel Writers Month toward my first novel.

Granted, I've been manipulating ideas about my first novel since 5th grade. Regardless, I can never put together more than an essays worth of declarations that I find publishable. Maybe, this time, I've broken through the barriers limiting my success.

One can only hope... And, in true professional educator's style: publish or die!

Un-Catholic School

Irony, while often amusing, may sometimes lend itself to tense or disquieting situations. For a handful of my fellow teachers and I, this school year offers us all three elements. Despite being a public-charter school, we find ourselves occupying a portion of a defunct Catholic school in an active, Catholic church.

In theory, this situation should not be overly uncomfortable. Catholics in the urban, Midwestern United States tend to be a bit more progressive. Most posses a strong concern for social justice and community improvement. And, given the dwindling numbers of parishoners, they are eager to formulate non-traditional partnerships.

Such would appear to be the case with my school and our new, Catholic landlords. They signed a lease with our organization with the full understanding that we would, in theory and practice, operate as a public school. Any leftover religious icons, artifacts, statements, et cetera would need to be removed from our operational areas, and the church itself could not run any form of "mission" within our school.

Yet, right now, our portion of the building remains uninhabitable due to code issues. This led to our use of "donated" space in other areas. While few parishoners have been outright rude (some have), the tension has been obvious on both sides.

Marine Fit - The Start

Every now and then, we all lose a bit of focus on our health. It could be our emotional health, fiscal health, physical health, or some combination of such that challenges us. Personally, the last few months proved very trying in all areas. Having to deal with a volatile year ending in a forced resignation from my old school and delays in starting my new job led to numerous problems. I drank too much. I slept too little. I neglected nutrition and exercise. As I tapped into savings and student loans to make ends meet, very little mattered other than not driving myself insane.

My new job began a couple of weeks ago, and I've begun to regain some semblance of fiscal and emotional balance. However, my health is another story. 

A year and a half ago, at age 29, I weighed 157 pounds with a 31.5" waist (I'm 5'10"), and I easily conquered a half-marathon on my way to training for a full marathon.

Running in a full marathon never materialized. The downward spiral started, and I found little motivation to stop the slide. I can't run three miles without my lungs screaming for relief, and my gym time is laughable. 

Luckily, with my new job has come a new awareness of my whole self. Thus, now is the time to get back to being "Marine Fit."

Why "God" Isn't Christian

Funny, a little standardized testing will decimate a teacher's ability to write meaningful blogs. Finally, I find a moment to share about my recent conversion to Secular Humanism in some greater detail. The title of this post may seem to lack the elements of my current belief, but this if for good reason. So many of my friends and readers are considered "faithful" that I need address my change in beliefs much in the same manner as one would cook the proverbial frog - slowly heating the water with the frog in place not dropping it into a roiling vat. 

God or mythological being? Depends on when you lived.

Versed vs. Unversed

When I decide to read a non-fiction work on a certain subject, I always look at the author's biographical information. Overall, I could care less about the small blurbs about their personal lives. No, when researching a particular subject and seeking literature on the matter, I care about pedigree. Where did they go to school? What did they study? What authority do they have to speak on the matter-at-hand? All these questions become vitally important, as I don't wish to waste my time or be misinformed or worse, misled. (For example, if I desire knowledge about the role of the United States in international relations, I am much more likely to consult Colin Powell as Ann Coulter.)

"Manly" Men and Girlfriends

Ever heard of Nick Kasa? Before yesterday, I had no clue who he was. If you weren't an avid Colorado football fan or fanatical NFL Scouting Combine-watcher, you probably didn't either. This is him:

During Q&A time at the combine, Kasa was asked such questions as: "Do you have a girlfriend? Are you married? Do you like girls?

Dog "Kiddo" in Need and Faith in Humanity

Almost anyone with a truly beloved pet knows the human agony when our "kids" ail. If we don't have human children, these furry or feathered companions contribute something just as meaningful to our lives. For those with children, I've been told and read that one's pet is considered another of their kiddos. In short, something deep within our humanity indelibly bonds us to our pets.

This week, my partner and I are gravely concerned about one of our own dog "kids."

Lifesaving Surgery for Copper

Moment of DOH: Special Educator Needs "Special" Attention

Before sitting down to write this blog, I took a couple of days to watch the fireworks. Granted, jumping into the fray immediately makes for good "breaking news," but running off half-cocked to express my views on Diana Medley, et al seemed as wrong as they are. Hopefully, this will be a timely piece.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, watch this before moving forward, as I am not going to rehash the whole story.

First to the special "educator" in question, what the .....?
                                                                       Remind you of anyone?

PERSONAL: Coming Out... Again

Centuries ago, Marcus Aurelius wrote,

Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.

 The concepts and ideals of god - omnipotent, everlasting, triune, one, many, pleasing god, loving god, finding favor with god, listening to god's call, et cetera ad nauseam  - influence the vast majority of human kind. I dare say a single human being lives and dies without facing the concept of an eternal, almighty creator, mostly not of their own free will, so to speak. Multitudinous variables exist as to the essence of god, and if taken at their bedrock claims discriminate widely between what may or may not be held as truth by the faithful coherent.

But as I often tell my students, we must go slow in order to go fast. Thus, in order to ensure the consistency of this post, I am taking a backward step.

Whatever You Want to Be... A Trouble and a Hope

Reflect on the aphorisms brought forward in your mind by this post's title. For the recent high school graduate, it emotes a sense of welcome into a newly opened world. For the successful professional, this symbolizes the fulfillment of hard work and hard-won luck; epitomizing in commonsense language the "American Dream," which deserves a few words of its own.

The "American Dream" received only that moniker from James Truslow Adams' 1931 work,  The Epic of America. (For as Carlin puts it, you have to be asleep to believe it.) For several centuries, explorers looked across the ocean, dreaming of opportunity and freedom in lands less bound by kings and kingdoms, more open to the free will of man. Eventually, a French-made monument beckoned the world to the shores of America. As this rising tide of nationalism swelled, Truslow Adams and others ignorantly judged as boundless the magical lives which supposedly came with treading American soil, already forgetting the fate of Native Americans.

Yet, simply put, the above idea of the American Dream purports an untruth.

What Remains...

No one can truly "make sense" of horrific acts of violence, especially those carried out against innocents. We explore psychological profiles and comb through family histories. We interview survivors and assign blame at intervals, scattered as shotgun blasts. More often than not, we crucify the ready availability of guns and martyr the mental health care system. I don't believe these arguments are without merit, but they are certainly not the sole solution.

Generally, we frame the shooter within a very particular psychopathy. The extremist, the charismatic sociopath, the troubled loner, all provide easy targets, so to speak. Granted, some of them fit the stereotype to a tee.

(Case in point)

Others, you might never suspect...

PERSONAL: The Ones Reserved as Family

In the pantheon of human experience, no greater compliment or judgement rests with the naming of one as "family." What makes to one the other poses a quagmire of possibilities, limitations, grudges, and allowances. The bog of familial ties stinks of forgiveness and treason. For this reason alone, no single set of elements may be used to prejudge to whom the blessings or curses of family are bestowed. (Just ask the Hatfields, McCoys, Hitlers, Rockefellers, and Kennedys about that.)

My own family consists of a small, tightly-considered clan of individuals, the majority of whom exist within the confines of Northeast Mississippi. My father's family exists in the foreign patches of south Florida. My mother's kith and kin consist of a myriad of cousins but only three children. Two of these, a brother and sister, live singular lives in their sixties. My mother's offspring are gay, married with an exceptional child, and an exceptional child. I am the gay one.

A Tale of Two Teachers

What do you get when you cross a gifted New Testament, a former porn actress, and a local education system? 

In the separate cases of Stacie Halas and Walter Tutka, you get the boot from a local education system.

A sardonic irony exists between these two cases. A local board of education punished Ms. Halas for completely legal actions performed apart from and probably prior to her duties as a teacher. Mr. Tutka remains without a job for the next year due to quoting an ancient text and gifting said text to a student.

Recruit, Retain, Respect

A few years ago, I enjoyed the pleasure of helping found a (now) university sponsored program at my baccalaureate alma mater. I learned a very valuable lesson about selling an idea to a university's administration. Simply, my presentation required an emphasis on how the program would help the university recruit and retain top talent among students and staff. The moral, social, and academic benefits of the program were important, but those alone were not going to see this program officially supported. In the end, only the promise of positive, and lucrative, numbers mattered.

Fast forward a couple of years, a few hundred miles, and a wealth of experience later, and I'm finding this particular lesson remains true- this time within the context of K-12 public charter schools. At least, this is the principle in theory.

 But, the principle in theory must ultimately bow to the principal running the show.

Moment of DOH! - Pedophobia and the Teacher

The case of Maria Waltherr-Willard places me at odds between accepting an allegedly acute mental health problem and rolling my eyes all the way around in their sockets.

Year of the Question

I'm never one to make resolutions at the turn of each new year. 2013 proves no exception. Still, I do come into this year with a sense of expectation in facing very new and very exciting possibilities. I am in the process of asking vital personal and professional questions, but I also haven't taken my eyes of those communities to which I belong. In the coming months, educators, LGBTIQ people, religious skeptics, social activists, and university students - all of which I currently identify with - will ponder the social, political, and economic landscapes so vastly changing.

Unparalleled "tipping points" loom on the horizon. And, we can meet those challenges with courage and grace under fire to the betterment of us all, or we can continue the polarizing rhetoric of our past. 

With any luck, Utmost Report will prove to be an extension, the cathartic expression, of my actions and opinions as pertaining to how the questions of 2013 are answered. With any dream fulfilled, Utmost Report will become a well-read, thought and discussion-provoking exploration of education, politics, religion, and personal expression, which in the end leads to the betterment of healing and hope. 

In a lighter sense, essentially, I wish to join the ranks of several thousand peers in finding a public outlet for conversation generally discouraged in such arenas by the Emily Posts of the world. (Though in 2013, I'm pretty confident such a world no longer exists.) 

Welcome to my world, please, don't be afraid to share yours!