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Saturday, December 21, 2024
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Breakfast with Recruits

By
Tom Deighan
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This is a recurring Veteran’s Day article that captures the moment that forever changed how I see our military men and women.  During my time serving the children of Fort Sill Army Base, I had the distinct honor of joining recruits for breakfast during bootcamp. It gave me a tiny glimpse into the tremendous sacrifice they are willing to make.  Please pray for our veterans and their families this second Sunday of the month, and please also pray for the safety of our schools. 

We were instructed to leave a seat between each of us in the empty mess hall for the recruits. Few of us in Leadership Oklahoma Class of XXVIII had military experience, so we were impressed with the food line which rivaled any breakfast buffet in town. Some of us quickly found a seat, but others lingered in the food lanes or at the juice dispensers. Then the recruits arrived.

They descended upon the serving lines with speed and efficiency. Always orderly and respectful, they moved past us mechanically as we tried to decide between yogurt or a bagel. They invariably grabbed both and walked in sharp angles to an empty seat. Dropping their trays between us as if pre-assigned, they returned for drinks. Each returned with two glasses that they cupped tightly in the center of their chests, elbows extended.

Although mindful of us civilians in the room, they had only ten minutes to eat, so they inhaled everything. Despite this, they patiently and respectfully responded to our questions. I watched with fascination as one young man folded everything on his tray into a pancake like a taco (for maximum eating efficiency he told me). The stubble on his freshly shorn head was likely the only he had ever experienced. He could just as easily have been a sophomore sitting in English class. 

At a nearby table sat several young women, just as precise and just as hungry. With no makeup and their hair pulled helmet-tight, nothing could hide their youth. But just about then, one of the Leadership Oklahoma members at my table asked them why they carried their drinks that way, cupped tightly in the center of their chests, elbows extended. “Because that is how they train us to handle a grenade, sir.”

I was awestruck. Respect and gratitude replaced sentimentality as I saw these recruits with fresh clarity. In fact, I saw every soldier I had ever known differently. Because in that moment, the United States Army marched right into my heart:  The bagpipe players on the polo field who learned to play in forty-five days. The drill sergeants who spent their weekend with these recruits instead of their families. The solemnity of the retreat ceremony. The big guns firing on the range. But mostly, I saw young men and women who carry their breakfast drinks like grenades because their lives literally depend upon it. I have never been more enlightened or more humbled.  

How foolish of me to look at these recruits as anything but the men and women who keep America free. Just four weeks into their basic training that forges them into soldiers, they already mastered discipline and precision beyond my imagination. This was reflected in each soldier I met on Fort Sill over my years there.  And while I learned to recognize the ranks from their symbols, I could never distinguish rank based on behavior, demeanor, or professionalism – from private to general, I saw only Army Strong.

Both of my parents served in the Navy. I have worked alongside countless other veterans, not to mention former students who went on to serve, and in my time at Fort Sill, I came to appreciate the military like never before. But not until that morning in the mess hall did I ever carry the heart of a recruit – cupped tightly in the center of my chest, elbows extended.

Tom Deighan is currently the superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. You may email him at  deighantom@gmail.com and read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com

Wacky Waving Toby Dawn

By
Tom Deighan
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Nothing . . . absolutely nothing raises the ire of my lifelong friend and childhood hero more than a school bus drive around. He claims to have once been a school bus driver, but in reality, he merely borrowed one on our 5th grade field trip. Nevertheless, that experience created a sense of fellowship with all pupil pilots, so if he ever sees a stop arm violation, he goes “Toby Dawn” on the driver. He puffs up. He stretches out. He gyrates, waves his arms in the air, and screams like an injured cat. Picture our tall, red-headed Toby Dawn hollering like a fool in the middle of the road at the lowly offenders. “You gotta get their attention, Tommy Boy!”

People occasionally allege that Toby Dawn is fictional, but I assure you that nothing is more real than a wacky waving Toby Dawn defending a school bus. And if it reminds you of something you’ve seen at local used car dealers and tax preparation offices, that’s because Toby Dawn McIntyre modelled the original inflatable flailing tube man. He reportedly even earns a commission from every single one, which might explain why he has been so excited about the recent NOPE movie that features so many Toby Dawns flailing about in the field.

Every August, however, he makes cameo appearances in school districts across the nation whenever some absent-minded driver commits a stop-arm violation. He leaps into traffic and violently waves his arms and shouts. Air horns. Confetti poppers. Silly string on the windshield, and occasionally, roman candles. Kids on the bus love it, but it terrifies the drivers, and not necessarily the bad ones. “Sometimes, things get out of hand when I’m strobing,” he confesses. (Strobing is Toby’s term for his wacky, waving arm display. Oddly fitting.)

Toby is the first to admit, however, that a giant Irishman strobing in the middle of the road is not the best solution for drive-arounders. “I ain’t Santa Claus; I can’t be everywhere, Mr. Superintendent.”  (He refuses to accept that I have returned to the classroom.) Nevertheless, he has a brilliant solution: install a giant, wacky waving arm Toby Dawn on each school bus. Whenever someone breaks the sacred cheese wagon code, a menacing tube man inflates to frighten and intimidate offending motorists. 

He has formally proposed his giant inflatable tube man several times to the National Transportation Safety Board as the ultimate deterrent for drive-arounds, but the NTSB keeps rejecting it. Thankfully, his other idea – replacing the stop arms with a giant chainsaw – has been rejected, too. Toby understands that many school buses now have cameras, but “Either a giant Toby or chainsaw would stop this overnight,” he claims. Toby’s not wrong; we need something dramatic to protect kids from stop-arm violators. Maybe something in between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Gumby. I wonder if school districts just couldn’t post the videos online?

I cannot imagine anyone purposely driving around a loading or unloading school bus, but I shudder at the possibility of a kiddo popping out. It’s the sort of thing that keeps bus drivers (and Toby) up at night. Thankfully, school buses are the safest form of transportation on the planet . . . inside the bus. Drivers speeding around the bus are another matter, so as school starts this year, let’s imagine a giant Toby Dawn McIntyre in the road. If the flashing lights don’t get your attention, a wacky waving McIntyre might. Nevertheless, he cannot be everywhere, so until the NTSB installs menacing inflatable tube men on all school buses, we must be uber careful. Drivers keep kids safe on the inside; we must keep them safe on the outside. 

Hopefully, next time you see an inflatable flailing Toby Dawn, it’s at a car dealership. Meanwhile, please pray that the NTSB keeps rejecting at least one of Toby Dawn’s school bus drive around solutions, and please pray for the safety of our students this Second Sunday of the month.

Tom Deighan is a public educator and author of Shared Ideals in Public Schools. You may email him at deighantom@gmail.com 

A Simple Academic Vision

By
Tom Deighan
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Through the years, I have read volumes of academic visions containing indecipherable educational jargon that seems to create more questions than answers.  (Unfortunately, I have also produced my fair share as well!)  Yet, I have rarely seen any succinct academic visions for Pk-12 education through the elementary, middle, and high school levels.  Education is an infinitely complex journey, but the challenge of a long journey has never stopped anyone from starting with a simplistic road map. Likewise, I think we need more clarity in education about progression from elementary to high school.  Like a long road trip across the country, we need to know our destination, and we need to know which way to turn at Albuquerque.  Below is a simple academic vision for PK-12 education:        

At the elementary level, each grade will foster high character, healthy relationships, and strong morals as evidenced through personal accountability.  Mastery of essential academic skills and facts necessary to succeed at the next grade level will be the primary focus for all students, with reading and math literacy always taking precedence.   Mastery of reading and math skills will be further evidenced in their application through writing and speaking about science, history, civics, and other academic subjects. Graphic and performing arts will enrich and support academic growth.  Physical education and unstructured play will be incorporated as essential components of childhood and necessary to learning. 

At the middle level (middle schools and junior highs), mastery of elementary skills will be expected upon entry, and if necessary, students will be rigorously remediated until mastery of essential academic skills necessary for middle level coursework can be evidenced.  High moral character and behavior are expectations as students grow and mature socially. Middle level coursework will provide deeper exploration of distinct academic subjects. Students will support results and conclusions with evidence, facts, and logical discourse through written and oral communication.  Graphic and performing arts will support deeper understanding of history and culture through artistic expression.  Health/physical education, athletic competition, and extra-curricular participation will be promoted for all students.   Pre-college and pre-career diagnostics will provide students and parents with insight regarding possible career paths as they prepare for high school.

Finally, high schools will be structured as college and career preparation centers that foster strong social connections.  All academics, programs, and discipline will prepare students to enter the workforce, to further their education, and to be productive community members.  College and career readiness assessments will guide all academic instruction.  Whenever possible, students will be challenged to address real-world academic, civic, and business issues within a given field and model professional behavior.  Highest evidence of proficiency will be demonstrated through written and oral communication, artistic expression, professional experiences (internships/mentorships), and concurrent enrollment.  Participation in extra-curricular activities is affirmed as an essential component of students’ growth. Every student will graduate, and every student will graduate with college or career experience.

As a career educator, I wonder if we have unnecessarily complicated the educational process.  Oversimplification is certainly not the answer, but in an increasingly complex and divisive world, parents, students, and educators need to identify their common ground and shared expectations regarding education.  In my experience, when they are given that chance, they will agree much more than they disagree, and when they disagree, they will do so with tolerance and dignity. Perhaps my little academic vision is imperfect, but that’s ok if it will begin crucial conversations to rediscover the role and nature of schools.  

Tom Deighan is currently the superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. He may be reached at deighantom@gmail.com  You may read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com

Feeding the Smartphone Pig

By
Tom Deighan
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A few years ago, miniature pigs were all the rage.  Unfortunately, many people couldn’t tell the difference between a normal and a miniature pig, and many entrepreneurial farm kids took advantage of the market.  It didn’t take people long to realize they had been swine-dled, however, for pigs can exceed 250 pounds in six months.  Just imagine your surprise when your little Piglet turns out to be a full-grown Pooh Bear.  Oh, bother!

During the pandemic, we unwittingly invited a similar beast into our homes: the 24/7 Digital Pig.  What started as a convenient smartphone has since grown into a 500-pound feral boar.  Zoom pigs, email pigs, and social media pigs already devoured our lives before the pandemic, but I am not sure we can feed these monsters anymore.  With COVID hopefully waning, maybe it’s time to send this digital piggy to the market.

Remember when computers were supposed to simplify our lives?  Enhanced communications would enrich our relationships.  Technology would declutter our schedules, so we could focus on the people and activities that mattered.  Less stress, less worry, more sleep.  We would even use less paper.  Smartphones were supposed to tie it all up into one cuddly package. Those crafty country kids on the side of the road lied to us! 

We now navigate giant piles of digital clutter (the piglet and Pooh jokes write themselves!).  We even use more paper than ever before. I measure cash register receipts by the foot now, which simply adds insult to injury after self-checking and self-paying.  I missed the training, so I have discovered that not all apples are coded equally. I complained to customer service, but it is self-service, too. Now it’s just a giant mirror and a frustrated bald guy holding a bag of ridiculously expensive honey-crisp apples. 

Unfortunately, all these so-called technological conveniences have crept into education, too.  After the pandemic, we learned that 24/7 instruction, feedback, parent-teacher conferences, and tutoring were all possible and necessary. Online learning has its place, but for most educators, parents, and students, learning is as social as cerebral.  More collaborative than computerized.  Some students and teachers thrive in a virtual world, but most of us hated it, especially when given an option.  

We are now starting to reclaim some normalcy, and virtual school at 2 AM and weeks of quarantines are less necessary, so why are we still feeding this smartphone hog?  Between social media, texts, emails, and midnight snacks, I don’t know how anyone gets any sleep. Families are more exhausted than ever, and I believe it is partly due to the cute little piglet that turned into a 24/7 digital nightmare.  

Families need downtime.  We need to reclaim our nights and weekends (or whenever you can catch a moment of rest). The 24/7 digital pig has gobbled up every spare minute, and what once helped us cope with the pandemic has become our tusked overlord. Life is already hectic enough; we don’t need work and school dominating our homes and family times any more than it already does. 

Unfortunately, this 24/7 digital pig will never go away.  We cannot butcher it, but we can put it in a pen where it belongs.  Social media, texts, and emails will still be there in the morning, and somewhere among those apps is an actual phone, so someone can call you if it’s important. Parents, students, and educators need a break from the digital monster we have created over the last two years.  Let’s unplug, log-off, and disconnect more.  Trust me, no matter how much that 24/7 digital pig squeals the world won’t end if we ignore it occasionally.  And if anyone is thinking of buying a cute little mini pig, consider a layaway plan.  If the little guy adds 40 pounds in a month, you don’t have a pet; you have a pork dinner, and it’s really hard to find a sparkly phone case for one of those.   

Tom Deighan is currently the superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. Email: deighantom@gmail.com  Past articles: www.mostlyeducational.com

Adult-Ready Graduates

By
Tom Deighan
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This is second in a series of ten summertime articles mapping the common ground upon which parents, educators, and communities can unite regarding one of the most divisive topics in America: public education. 

Over my career, I have shared the stage with thousands of graduates, and I invariably run into a few after graduation. One encounter at the local athletic store stands out because it was the very next morning. He introduced himself, and we made some small talk about the ceremony, but finally, he just blurted it out, “I don’t know what to do!”  Such is the AHA! moment of graduation. 

Many students graduate with a plan of some sort, but many others live so passionately in adolescence that adulting sneak attacks them as they step onto the stage for their diploma, and they can barely walk. All graduates feel the weight of “What are you going to do after graduation?”  It’s already a ton of bricks, so they really don’t need the constant reminder. (As if we all had a plan when we were eighteen!)

Parents feel the same way, so it is a moment of truth for them both. Parents invariably wonder if they prepared their children, and the newly minted graduates invariably wish they had paid more attention. Despite all our talk of generation gaps, none exists at this moment when both parents and graduates see the entire PK-12 educational assembly line with crystal clarity, and they realize that public schools are the most ambitious of factories: adult factories. 

Of course, we extol the virtue of learning, the passion of the arts, and the thrill of competitions. We love the fun stuff, endure the hard stuff, and cuss the crazy stuff. Ultimately, however, graduates are our final product, and every parent and every child want the same outcome from that factory: functioning adulthood. Over the years, I have described this many ways, from college and career ready to career-bound citizens, but whatever we call it, we need adult-ready graduates. 

Definitions of adult-ready vary greatly from child to child and from family to family, but parents and educators agree on the essentials more than they disagree. I suppose the 80/80/80 rule – 80% of parents and 80% educators agree on 80% of educational issues – applies to kids as well. No one has better clarity on this topic than a recent graduate or their parent because when we backward design school from graduation, education is a much simpler process. Remarkably, we can generally agree on a few core essentials.

Every child needs to graduate ready to enter the adult world to the best of their abilities. They may further their education, get a job, enter the military, or start a business, but they need to be ready for those next steps. They also need to be good neighbors who can fulfill their civic duties. They often kick and scream during the manufacturing process, but upon graduation, these things suddenly matter. More are ready than not because all that nagging from teachers and parents bubbles up just when they need it. If previous generations could pull it together, this generation can, too. (We were a hot mess back in the day, and we know it.)

And as for that terrified young man?  Our discussion occurred at the athletic store where he had worked through high school, and I knew that any kid who shows up to work the morning after graduation would be fine. I eventually lost track of him, but he stepped into adulthood as we all did, with a little fear and trembling, and he figured it out. I have no doubt he is successful, perhaps even preparing to place his own children on the educational assembly line, wondering who they will be when they grow up. The simplest answer, from whatever perspective, is simple: an adult. Just imagine what our public schools could accomplish if we could start where we agree and work backwards to ensure graduates are truly adult-ready. If you doubt it is that simple, just ask a recent graduate.  

Tom Deighan is a public educator and currently serves as Superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. He may be reached at deighantom@gmail.com

Kiteboarding and Remote-Controlled Public Schools

By
Tom Deighan
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This is the ninth in a series of ten summertime articles mapping the common ground upon which parents, educators, and communities can unite regarding one of the most divisive topics in America: public education.

A friend of mine recently used his drone to record me kiteboarding. From 400 feet up, my local lake looked like a tropical paradise, and I looked like an expert kiteboarder, but closer inspection would have revealed a 50-year-old risking a broken hip in muddy water!  Clearly, remote-control can look impressive, but it’s not always accurate or evidence of sound judgement. 

Historically, we have accepted that local school boards, parents, and educators have a clearer view of their students’ needs than any far-away politician, bureaucrat, or teacher-union bosses. In recent decades, however, remote-control planning has become the norm for both political parties, starting with No Child Left Behind, surging with Common Core State Standards, and continuing with the Every Student Succeeds Act. All three initiatives received widespread bi-partisan support at inception and cancellation. (ESSA will eventually be cancelled, too.) Remote-control policy, however, reached its apex during our recent pandemic, and I would hope that we learned that educational central planning in a state as diverse as Oklahoma simply does not work. Once again, I think most parents and educators agree on the issue of local control in their district.

Last year is a good example of remote-controlled chaos. Schools were stuck between certain entities that seemed to incentivize school closures and other entities that seemingly demanded schools ignore those with authority to close schools. Well-intentioned leaders increasingly feel compelled to remote control schools, so local control is largely ignored until central planning fails, and districts are told to figure things out on their own. Constantly running this gauntlet leaves local communities frustrated and confused. We need this chaos to end. 

Little attention was given to districts like Duncan who stayed open last year and even less attention to the fact that most Oklahoma school districts stayed open during the pandemic. Despite remote-controlled, central planning, most Oklahoma school districts successfully ran the gauntlet to serve their kids and parents. We did it on the local level, despite far-away warring factions. Schools did this as communities of parents and educators making tough decisions, not by remote-control.

I hope and pray that everyone looks at the data we now have after a year. Of course, we knew a year ago that COVID spread in schools is negligible, and those studies from other countries encouraged many districts to stay open. In our district, only about 1% of 1,500 quarantined students developed COVID while in quarantine, so it seems the quarantines overreached. Other districts who stayed open reported similar results. We may have had reason to fear last year, but this year, the evidence is clear: schools should be open, masked or not. And may we please stop quarantining healthy children.

Unfortunately, the gauntlet is already forming for the upcoming year, and I hope schools will not be stuck. A slew of new legislation seemingly targeted schools that closed last year, ignoring the schools who successfully served kids in-person. Other legislation micromanaging COVID mitigation may place schools at odds with health departments if last year’s COVID rules are implemented. I cannot see any practical way for schools to stay open with any consistency if that happens.  We may have unwittingly tied school districts’ hands so much that those fighting to keep schools closed with unrealistic demands may inadvertently win, doing further irreparable harm to a generation of students. Extremists on both sides win if schools close again this year, for both can loudly proclaim, I told you so!    

I sincerely believe that the issue of in-person schooling is settled for most educators and parents. Remote controllers win if they can keep us divided, confused, and inconsistent. We must remember that critical issues look very different close-up, in your neighborhoods, which is why local parents, educators, and school boards can be trusted to protect the safety and health of their own children. We cannot always trust remote-control views of education or old men kiteboarding, but we can trust local control.

Tom Deighan is the current Superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. He may be reached at deighantom@gmail.com

Bystanders and Upstanders at the Seat of Scorn

By
Tom Deighan
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Once upon a time, a powerful ruler publicly humiliated a simple woman.  He invited her as a guest of honor to an annual celebration, but instead of honoring her, the ruler heaped ire and abuse upon her, attacking her character, honor, and integrity. She helplessly endured it in silence while her friends and colleagues silently watched. No one spoke up or even stood beside her. Her seat of honor at a celebration was instead a seat of scorn.

Those same friends and colleagues privately came to her afterwards and affirmed their love and support for her.  The ruler also visited the woman and apologized very sincerely for his hurtful and unfair behavior and invited her to another celebration. She was not attacked this time, but the previous injustice was ignored, and she left more wounded than ever, because private praise rarely heals public wounds, and neither do secret apologies. Such a broken heart simply festers.

I share this little parable because I am often asked how people can affirm support for their local educators, and I believe it is how we choose to respond when someone sits defenseless in the seat of scorn. Like the simple woman in our parable, local educators often sit alone and humiliated in the public eye, but this is not just happening to school staff. Police officers and healthcare workers have been targeted mercilessly, and likewise, volunteer elected officials like school board members and city council members. Still yet, the seat of scorn is not limited to these leaders or professions. 

Ask the men and women at the drive-thru windows and convenience store counters how often they are cussed or insulted lately.  Ask your bus drivers, your cooks, your custodians, or your school secretaries how people often treat them.  Ask the tellers at the bank, your servers, your pastors.  Ask your friends and family, and ask the person in the mirror, for you probably have felt it, too. Yes, local educators currently feel isolated and humiliated at the seat of scorn, but they are not alone in regard to feeling so alone.

Such treatment is often face-to-face, but nowadays, anyone can be abused publicly by petty tyrants on social media.  Simple folks retreat to social media for a celebration with friends and family, but they quickly find themselves sitting ducks in the virtual seat of scorn. Despite dozens and dozens of “friends” looking on, people rarely stand beside them publicly. An avalanche of support may pour in privately, but private praise and secret apologies never heal public wounds; they just make it worse.

I am often asked what our local educators need, and it is the same thing everyone else needs right now: someone . . . anyone . . . brave enough to stand beside them at the seat of scorn.  Whether online in social media or in line at the store, people should not suffer alone when someone browbeats them for the higher cost of a fountain drink or for simply being a healthcare provider, police officer, or educator. We should never return bad behavior with worse behavior, but we can always walk across the room and stand beside them, so they know they are not alone. I wonder how many times I have personally been guilty of being a bystander.

When schoolkids receive anti-bully training, they learn that being a bystander simply fuels the bad behavior.  As a result, children learn to be upstanders.  Simply standing up with the person often neutralizes the bully, and the person is no longer alone.  Instead of silently watching when someone is humiliated in the seat of scorn, we should be like our children. We should stand beside them, whether online or in person, because private praise and secret apologies afterwards never help.  We all know the hot seat of scorn, so let’s be upstanders rather than bystanders when it happens in our communities. Please pray for restored civility in our communities, the courage to stand with each other, and above all, the safety of our schools this Second Sunday of the Month. 

Tom Deighan is superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. You may email him at  deighantom@gmail.com and read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com

Saving Us Dumb Locals from Ourselves

By
Tom Deighan
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Far away in an undisclosed coffeehouse, a hero in a white hat squints and looks suspiciously up at the rising sun. A kerfuffle is rumored among rubes in a faraway village, and nothing . . . absolutely nothing . . . worries a high-noon stranger like a bunch of local yokels facing the terrors of our modern world. A white horse soon appears. A quick pic for social media, and our hero drives away while a handler returns the horse to a waiting trailer to follow. Time to save us dumb locals from ourselves. 

Historically, Americans have always doubted the motives of self-identified heroes, but lately we seem to have succumbed to the hype. They predictably invade our towns and schoolyards for mock battle, and just as quickly move on for the next town, confident that they have made the world a better place by spotlighting an isolated, local, and complicated issue as a universal blight on our entire nation. The Twitterverse explodes. Facebook looks on in disgust. Tik-Tokers eat laundry detergent. 

Whatever the issue, local yokels must never fear!  Far away heroes from opposing sides will step in to fix our city councils, school boards, and main streets. They often swarm virtually, their manicured thumbs tapping away in outrage, but occasionally, they even make phone calls. If it’s something truly serious, however, like Dr. Suess poisoning our youth, the truly elite heroes stop just outside of town while hired hands un-trailer their white horses, so they can gallantly ride into town without a hair out of place.

Like never before, our communities, small towns, and schoolyards have become battlegrounds for faraway elites with deep pockets and obscure motives. While most Americans are concerned about silly issues like the economy, inflation, and school safety, these new saviors run unchecked and celebrated through our social media world. They always boast a vast local constituency, even when no locals recognize them. It’s just another high-noon standoff for them in an unknown town sure to produce collateral damage among people far too simple to understand their historic mission. Sure, local communities and schools have been dealing with these issues successfully without their help for years, but never waste a crisis, and when there is no crisis, create one.    

Not long ago, such high-noon strangers rode in, made a lot of noise, and disappeared. They only had blanks in their guns, so no harm, but now, they ruin lives, careers, and relationships. When the dust settles, locals are left empty, embittered, and betrayed. Meanwhile, outside of town, they trailer their horses and move on to the next backwater hotspot. A savior’s work is never done, and lattes are getting cold.

This new breed of elitist central planners have not yet rediscovered the futility of micromanaging local affairs. Self-proclaimed heroes rarely find the support they seek, so they inevitably devolve into their own form of tyranny, whether by governmental or mob decree. Tacit agreement with either orthodoxy is no longer enough, so normal folks keep their heads down and avoid eye-contact. No matter what you say or how you say it, it’s not good enough. We can no longer merely tolerate differences or partially agree – we must fervently celebrate and participate to prove allegiance. Most Americans hate being told what to do, even if they agree, but this has gotten out of hand. 

There will always be a need for far-away perspectives and experts, but everything is eventually a local issue. Local news. Local problems. Local solutions. Local responsibility. Of course, our new heroes champion these things, as long as locals bow obediently to the upheaval in our schools and communities under threat of national attention or cancellation. When it’s all over, local yokels must scoop up the messes left by these self-appointed heroes’ gallant white steeds. That’s now our role. Ironically enough, our only options after all their damage: blow up Twitter, slap Facebook, or eat Tide Pods. Maybe those Tik-Tokers have the answer, after all.

Tom Deighan is a public educator and author of Shared Ideals in Public Schools. You may email him at deighantom@gmail.com

The Myth of an Epic Snow Day

By
Tom Deighan
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Remember when we only knew if school was cancelled by tuning into the local television or radio stations? The list would stream across the bottom of the screen in alphabetical order in an excruciatingly slow loop. If yours wasn’t listed on the evening news, it might appear on the ten o’clock news, or we tuned in before school. Oh, the suspense! In retrospect, this was all incredibly inconvenient but terribly exciting, and to this generation, it all sounds like a mythical Norman Rockwell scene on a magazine cover.

Sometimes, we did not know school was cancelled until the bus simply failed to show up.  On one such occasion, I remember a group of us dutifully waiting on the corner in a snowstorm for a such a bus that never arrived. While we waited, someone playfully tossed a loosely packed snowball, then another. Within seconds, a friendly melee erupted as we pelted each other with handfuls of soft powdery snow.  Kids nowadays cannot imagine standing on a corner in a snowstorm, wondering if their bus will arrive or if school would even open, but that bus never did arrive, and we did not make it home until dark.

Our joy quickly spread through the neighborhood, and we never wondered once about school. We disappeared into clouds of powdery snow, and as the temperatures quickly rose and the snow grew stickier, we headed for the park to make snowmen.  What naïve and inexperienced elementary kids we were!  Just as the sun peeked through the clouds, I remember a distinct Thwap! Then another and another. 

The middle-schoolers ambushed us. Older and wiser, they reserved their energy early in the morning, patiently waiting for the consistency of the snow to change from corn starch to sticky cotton candy.  And while we dreamed of silly snowmen, they forged an armory of snowballs.  Barely inside the park gates, panic ensued as my friends fell to the left and right. Our attackers moved like a trained militia, aiming snowballs at our stinging faces. When we fell, they pelted us mercilessly while a soldier gleefully pulled out our collars or waistbands, filling them with icy snow.  

For a short time, all joy of a snow day vanished as the middle-schoolers unleashed wintery carnage on us, but high-schoolers soon emerged, seizing their stockpiles of snowballs and raining fire and ice on that poor group of tweens.  As we sniffled and snotted, we watched snowball justice on a Medieval scale, and our former foes soon lay buried under mounds of snowballs in the city park. The high-schoolers disappeared as quickly as they arrived, and it was all over. 

The joyful spirit of a snow day returned, however, and those same middle schoolers helped us with our snowmen, and we promised not to tell our parents.  Before long, we lost ourselves in snow angels and forts and sliding down hills with cardboard we pulled from dumpsters.  Not an adult in sight, and we never went home.  Our parents never wondered where we were or worried. They knew we would come home when we got hungry or when the streetlights came on, whichever came first.

Modern children still know the joy of a snow day, but in our overconnected, overprotected, and overscheduled world, few of them will ever experience an epic snow day.  The stinging of fingers and toes near the fire. The pure happiness of a carefree, adult-free day with no certainty and no worry. Children wandering and battling faux wars that led to truces marked with snow angels and cardboard sleds. 

Like old Saturday Evening Post magazine covers, it’s all a myth to modern families.  Nevertheless, maybe some things we have lost are worth rediscovering, like the suspense and joy of a surprise snow day. Unfortunately, our childhoods are now the Norman Rockwell images for this generation, but maybe some parts should once again be real, for I can think of nothing this generation needs more than a truly epic snow day.

Tom Deighan is superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. You may email him at  deighantom@gmail.com and read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com

Toby Dawn’s Flaming Pennies

By
Tom Deighan
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0

“Flaming pennies are ruining our country, Tommy Boy!”  My lifelong friend and childhood hero, Toby Dawn McIntyre cornered me recently to bloviate on the ills of society. “Flaming pennies,” he explained, “are the less than 1% of people who have completely lost the ability to discuss or conversate civilly, so they set the whole world on fire to get their way.”  (Conversate is also Toby’s terminology.)  He continued, “Most people can engage in rational discourse, even when they vehemently disagree, but not these flaming pennies. There aren’t many of them, but they are destroying this nation.”  

As Toby talked, I remembered the story of Sampson lighting foxes’ tails on fire and sending them into the fields. Those angry and terrified foxes wrought havoc as they recklessly destroyed everything around them.  But instead of foxes, I now pictured little copper Abraham Lincoln heads rolling through communities.  Pennies are small, but if they were on fire or red hot, no one would be safe because it only takes a tiny spark to start a wildfire.  Toby Dawn then warned me to check between my couch cushions before pantomiming an explosion with his hands.  He said “Poof!” as he walked away.  I was disappointed he didn’t have a little smoke bomb for dramatic effect. 

My friend Toby might just be on to something. I interact with a lot of people every day, and a lot more interact about me on social media.  The flaming pennies sure get a lot of attention, but they really are the exception. In fact, I have not encountered very many flaming pennies in my lifetime, even including the COVID age. I see them on television, in my news feed, and on social media, but I have met very few real-live flaming pennies focused on destroying everything and everyone to make a point.   

To be clear, I interact regularly with a lot of very passionate people with very sincere beliefs that they will never compromise.  I also encounter a lot of really upset people on a regular basis.   People who are willing to hurt others or their community to make a point, however?  Honestly, not very many, and I once had a guy named Vern chase me with a machete.  Even Vern calmed down . . . eventually, so despite it all, I believe that most people are still capable of having a civil, rational, and adult conversation.

A good example of this is our recent board meeting when they engaged the community on the most difficult of issues: face masks.  We are all aware of such meetings spiraling into chaos, but we never hear about the thousands of school boards and city councils across the nation who have held meetings on the issue without incident.  Yes, we had very passionate people with opposite views provide input.  Community members also spoke at the board meeting, and every single person was respectful, rational, and tolerant of differing opinions.  Not a single flaming penny in the group!  No one was willing to set the board meeting on fire or to insult anyone else to prove a point.  Just a group of rational adults having civil discourse about a very complex issue.  What a radical idea. Where were the cable channels when we needed them?

As often happens after such complex discussions, no decision was made, but the meeting turned into something more meaningful than even masks.  As one attendee explained, the rest of the world is losing its capacity for tolerance. Our community, however, once again modeled the tolerance we hope to see in our children. People treated each other with dignity and respect, despite conflicting views.  I couldn’t be prouder as a superintendent. 

I am struggling with Toby Dawn’s theory about flaming pennies, however, because on social media, it sure seems like more than 1%.  Maybe flaming quarters?  Nevertheless, a keyboard can often make people seem bigger and more threatening, so again, Toby Dawn might just be on to something with his crazy flaming pennies. (Disclaimer: no foxes or Verns were harmed during production.)

Tom Deighan is currently the superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. He may be reached at deighantom@gmail.com  You may read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com

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