“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

Swimming in the Piranha Fishbowl

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

February 23, 2022

Historically, certain professions accepted the reality of living in a “fish bowl.” Politicians, pastors/ministers, school leaders, and city leaders all signed up for this in some measure. People in private-sector leadership understand the fishbowl, too, due to social media, as do teachers, law enforcement, and healthcare workers. Swimming in the fishbowl is not just for high-profile leaders anymore. Nowadays, anyone can find themselves in the public fishbowl, but in the COVID Era, the fishbowl is now full of piranhas. And if you or someone you love has ever been piranha’d, you need no definition. Find a leader in a fishbowl, add piranhas.

Many of us signed up for life in the fishbowl, but in the social media age, anyone can unexpectedly take a swim. No matter who you are or how you found your fishbowl, no one is truly ready for it. The stress on your family, relationships, and health can be overwhelming under normal circumstances, but add a few piranhas, and life in the fishbowl has become a blood sport. Without warning and without cause, anyone (literally anyone) can be attacked with a thousand tiny bites while the public watches on.

Consequently, joyful jobs like coaching or volunteer positions like school board and city council are rapidly becoming less joyful. Modern technology has devolved into something medieval. Decent people are now publicly piranha’d simply for having a different perspective, a different philosophy, or a deeply held conviction. People are demonized simply because of their profession, titles or labels. A snap of the jaws, a little blood in the water, and a feeding frenzy.

When we interject national political vitriol into our homes, churches, schools, and communities, people become caricatures and symbols. Symbols become targets. Ideas become weaponized, and decent people become dehumanized. Consequently, piranhas are tossed into our schools and churches and neighborhoods. Before we allow anyone else to be piranah’d, we must remember that these are real people with families, jobs, and dreams. They are our neighbors. Our doctors and nurses. Our pastors and principals.

Do people’s titles, positions, or political parties make them more or less human? Do we really believe local board members and city council members are evil? Your local teachers are radicals? Healthcare workers are trying to hurt people? Parents are terrorists? Do we really believe this about each other?

We may never see our statewide or national discourse return to civility, but at the local levels, we can restore decency by recognizing each other as people, not as symbols. Your local “fishbowl” leaders are often simply volunteers; they do not deserve to be demonized. People working in the fishbowl do not always deserve praise, but they don’t deserve to be constantly piranha’d, either.

Our children are watching, and how we treat each other as adults teaches them volumes about our world. Our little Mayberry can either nullify or affirm the world’s ugliness. We can model true tolerance – accepting people even when we do not agree with them – or they can see a world full of bloody fishbowls, where our online profiles or likes determine our worth as people.

National civility will never be restored until we restore it locally, in our own communities, our own churches, and our own neighborhoods. We must model it for our children, whether online or in person, and maybe what starts locally could spread statewide and infect our whole nation. Make no mistake, however, it starts in our own fishbowls, and it starts with us. Enough of us have the scars, so we know what to look for. Let’s no longer permit colleagues and neighbors to be piranha’d. Sure, it may still happen in faraway places, but not in our local fishbowls. Not in our Mayberries.

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

Your Local Christmas Graduate Factory

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

November 29, 2021

This time of year, I am struck by the sheer volume of Christmas gadgets that appear on the shelves, and I am fascinated how Santa’s Workshop can produce all that stuff. I have always thought of schools as factories, too, but instead of gadgets, we make graduates, and during my career, I have congratulated literally thousands as they exited our assembly line. Some were destined for college, some for work, and some had no plan whatsoever, but this is often the time of year when many realize that graduation is just a semester away, and many of them wonder if they are ready to exit the assembly line.

I don’t know much about factories, but I once toured a tire plant. To a layperson like me, a tire is a tire is a tire, but the tires they produce are myriad. All tires are road-ready, but high-performance tires must be supple enough to provide excellent traction yet tough enough to survive corners at high speeds. Tractor tires carry weights that would crush normal tires, and everyday car tires fall somewhere in between. The same factory creates all these tires with absolute fidelity and zero waste. I bet Christmas gadgets are less complicated to make.

Unfortunately, making graduates is not so predictable. Factories can produce perfect products, but nothing enters them that might alter the final outcome. Public Schools, however, Welcome All, Serve All, and Love All who walk through their doors. We may manufacture graduates, but we do not exclude anyone from our assembly line. Our students may live in mansions or be homeless. They may have genius IQs, or they may have a severe intellectual disability. They may be star athletes, or they may be quadriplegics. Nevertheless, public schools face the highest expectations to produce perfect, road ready tires with virtually no waste. Every parent wants their child to graduate as ready as possible for the world ahead, and the ramifications are eternal.

To a lay person, a student is a student is a student, but students are not easy to classify and much more complex to manufacture than tires or gadgets. Critics of public education often point to the imperfect product exiting our assembly line, but they rarely acknowledge the enormous challenge of advancing all children, regardless of status or ability, toward graduation. When a tire exits a factory it can never be anything but the tire that “graduated”. Our students, on the other hand, may graduate as a tractor tire or a replacement donut, but they have the freedom and potential to transform themselves into a Formula One racing tire. Many other countries predetermine how they will exit the school assembly line. Americans, however, know that the students that we manufacture get to pick whichever road they choose and to go as fast as they wish. It’s the American Dream, and it is why public educators do what they do.

Christmas might be on our minds right now, but our seniors are worrying about things like FASFA’s, finding jobs, and completing their classes on time. They may not show it, but they care deeply. Some are on track to be high-performance, and others don’t know what type of gadget they will be, but please reassure them few of us were ready at this point in our lives, but somehow, we managed to exit the factory road-ready, and few of us are now what we planned to become. If you have a senior in high school this Christmas season, you know it’s not about the Christmas gadgets, and so do they. Fill their stockings with more love than stuff this year, and let them know how you felt back in the day. Somehow, we made it, and so will they, no matter how ready they feel to exit this graduate factory in the months ahead. And if you have no children in school, say a prayer of thanks for your local graduate factories, for they are producing your future neighbors. They are even more amazing than Santa’s Workshop.

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 Merry Winter Break

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

December 17, 2021

When I arrived home recently to discover a large red-headed man in a Santa hat writing Grynch in my driveway with a charcoal briquette, I choked up a little bit because every year, my lifelong friend and childhood hero, Toby Dawn McIntyre, castigates me about canceling Christmas. It’s our sweet little Christmas tradition, and it always makes me a bit sentimental. The holidays just aren’t official until someone puts a lump of coal in my stocking about the whole Christmas versus Winter Break issue, so I am glad it was jolly old Toby Dawn. This mean superintendent’s heart grew two sizes just at the sight of his charcoal smudged face.

“Well, Mister Superintendent,” he sneered like the duly trademarked Grinch. “I won’t let you steal Christmas from these kids!” Other than Toby, I hadn’t heard much this year about school Christmas observances being controversial, but I suspect that’s because everyone’s focused on finding that cool new Omicron Transformer Robot to put under the tree. I hear they will be everywhere soon, but not necessarily in time for Christmas, which is clearly a supply-chain issue. Nevertheless, all this Winter Break stuff is very serious stuff to Mr. McIntyre, so I cannot blame him for being upset.

To be sure, Toby can spell Grinch correctly, but he has developed a fear of copyright infringement ever since a famous country singer shut down his Toby Dawn’s I Love This Bar BQ food truck. “The lawyers told me he could trademark Toby, if I didn’t settle,” he lamented. “They threatened to take away my name, Tommy Boy, my name! And you know I can’t stand to be called Tobias!” Clearly, Mr. Keith doesn’t play, and Toby did have an especially rough 4^th grade after a substitute teacher accidentally used his full name. No one wants to experience that drama again.

The day before Christmas Break is my most favorite day of the year to visit schools, and for years I have invited Tobias to come sing Christmas carols, decorate Christmas trees, and to eat Christmas cookies at any of our numerous public-school Christmas parties. I think he would see parents and educators agreeing rationally regarding the difficult issues of ribbon candy and handmade ornaments at the kid-level. I wonder if Tobias Dawn McIntyre might be wearing his Cable News Goggles when looking at this issue, because no matter how often I tell him that schools can celebrate Christmas, he just won’t let up.

First, Christmas is a federal holiday, so kids are technically forced to wear ugly sweaters whether they like it or not. Banks close. Schools close. Even Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grill is closed (yes, I checked), so no Okie comfort food on Christmas Day or pondering the ageless philosophical question, How do you like me now? I think everyone can agree that our kids deserve a few cookies and a chance to dance like Charlie Brown before facing another dismal Christmas Day without dinner at Toby Keith’s. So, schools can definitely recognize Christmas. They can even sing “Away in a Manger” during the classic stage version of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. Apparently, all of this is required by federal law. (Disclaimer, I am not a real doctor or a pretend attorney.)

But before this gets out of hand, let’s clear up this whole Winter Break versus Christmas Break issue. Calling it Christmas Break makes no sense because no one needs a break from Christmas, but everyone needs a break from winter, at least while global warming drags its feet. Seriously, nothing captures the true spirit of Winter Break better than keeping Tobias Dawn McIntyre fired up. So keep an eye out for Toby, but whatever you do, be sure to call him Tobias when you wish him a Merry Winter Break and Happy New Year!

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

COVID Groundhog Day for Schools

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

February 1, 2022

Groundhog Day is this Wednesday, February 2, 2022, and just like Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog Day, our world will drag out of bed expecting the COVID loop to continue. But this isn’t just any Groundhog Day. Next Wednesday is 2-2-22, so something exciting is bound to happen, possibly at 2:22 PM. (Yes, 2.2.22.2.22 – just as Nostradamus likely predicted!) I am skeptical, but if Punxsutawney Phil doesn’t crawl out of his burrow before noon on Wednesday, I’m buying extra toilet paper.

In recent weeks, schools have experienced their own Groundhog Day of sorts as preemptive and indefinite closures again rolled across our nation due to COVID. In Duncan, we closed for the first time due to COVID (two days), and students reportedly broke down in tears at the news. Thankfully, we have avoided preemptive and indefinite closures, but this is their third school year saturated in such fear and anxiety. If it terrified our students who have attended open schools, just imagine the nationwide mental condition of students living through the Groundhog Day loop of constant closures.

After three years of subjecting children to such trauma, my concern is that we will forever be stuck in the same Groundhog Day pattern. Schools face intense pressure to close preemptively and indefinitely at the slightest sniffle. When they do close, they are endlessly shamed. Meanwhile, our nation seems unaware of the thousands and thousands of schools in our nation that have managed to safely avoid preemptive and indefinite closures. Where are the models and data from those schools to help guide other struggling districts?

The 2022-23 school year will be our fourth COVID school year, and parents and educators need examples and strategies to stay open, not endless pressure to close and bitter shame when they do. Unfortunately, I suspect that most parents and educators still assume that preemptive, indefinite closures are the norm rather than the exception. Our national obsession about closures has ignored thousands of lonely schools that defied the odds to stay open. What about the states and communities that never closed? Where are the models and strategies gleaned from their journeys?

This is our third COVID school year, and we know the patterns by now, and we know what works. If we are ever going to escape this COVID Groundhog Day, we must offer schools real strategies to avoid indefinite and preemptive closures. If we do not equip schools now, we can expect this pattern to repeat itself again in the future, whether or not Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow on 2-2-22 at 2:22.

As hard as it has been for districts like Duncan to stay open and avoid preemptive closures, it has been infinitely more difficult for those schools pressured to preemptively and indefinitely closed. Whichever path communities have chosen, doubt and anxiety dominate every aspect of our lives. And if it has been hard on us adults, we can barely comprehend the despair of children living through this endless COVID Groundhog Day.

When I spent Christmas Break compiling a book about Duncan’s journey to keep schools open, I did it in hopes that some attention could be drawn to schools across our nation that have managed to stay open. Surely, our nation can learn something from the thousands of other schools like ours that have defied the odds. Parents, educators and students all deserve the confidence and assurance that they can return to normalcy. They need hope for ending preemptive and indefinite closures due to COVID.

Before we ever approach Groundhog Day 2023, schools need strategies and models to safely stay open – instead of shame and impossible choices. If Bill Murray could escape his endless loop, we can, too. And who knows, maybe something cool will happen on 2-2-22 at 2:22? I will be watching that little critter closely, this Wednesday. I don’t have any predictions, but if Punxsutawney Phil is wearing an N-95 mask, I am stocking up on Charmin.

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

The Omicron Transforming Robot and Open Schools

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

December 3, 2021

When I heard that Omicron was coming to the United States, I was excited to hear that the next Transformers movie would be released early, but news of the latest giant robot from Cybertron generated more questions than answers. Would Omicron ally with Optimus Prime and the good guys, or would Omicron join the evil Decepticons? Would it hide as a cool car, semi-truck, or maybe even an airplane? Eat your heart out, Marvel Universe. Your puny Iron Man will be trembling in his shiny little boots!

But sadly, Omicron was just another COVID variant, and I blame any confusion on the World Health Organization for picking a name that sounds like a giant robot. Come on, Man! Nevertheless, it did make me think of all the cool Transformers we discovered during the COVID age.

Zoomicron appeared early in the pandemic, and it hides in the form of an unassuming dining room table. As a Transformer, however, Zoomicron is the only robot wearing a business suit with pajama bottoms. Never far away is Pelotonicron, the most useless of Transformers, who can often be seen on Zoomicron’s screen. Pelotonicron hides in plain sight as a very expensive piece of exercise equipment, but as a robot, Pelotonicron spins and spins but never gets anywhere. Together, they are a frightening duo.

Of course, the most mysterious new Transformers are Injecticron and Masquicron. We do not know if they align with the noble Optimus Prime or the evil Megatron, but that certainly depends largely on whichever cable news channels people watch. Injecticron and Masquicron are also relatively tiny for Transformers, so be wary of anything pokey or with elastic ear straps because it might just be a robot. Clearly, post-pandemic Transformers have potential, and if your local theater is closed, they could introduce Streamicron, another pandemic Transformer with obvious branding issues.

As a superintendent, I am sorely disappointed that Omicron is not a hot new Christmas toy, but I am more disappointed at talk that schools should consider closing again. Before we even start a discussion, however, let’s acknowledge that no one knew what to do three years ago, so anyone without COVID sin should cast the first robot. Secondly, we must accept the possibility that Omicron could destroy us all. Nevertheless, we now know that the early studies suggesting that schools should be open were correct. At this point, the issue of in-person schooling should be settled, not only in relations to the disease but also regarding the impact on students’ learning, physical health, and mental health.

We did not hear much about schools like Duncan that managed to offer full-time, in-person learning during the COVID saga, but a recent CDC study, “COVID-19–Related School Closures and Learning Modality Changes — United States, August 1–September 17, 2021”, suggests that upwards of 96% of all school districts in the United States started this school year with full, in-person learning. Unfortunately, schools who stayed open throughout the pandemic have not received much attention lately, but I suspect that the majority of our nation’s parents and educators now want open schools.

Therefore, as Omicron or other fearful robots invade, let’s resist the urge to further transform the lives of students out of fear and speculation. We know a lot more than we once did, and although we may be scared, we should no longer speculate as much. Omicron and the other COVID transformers may doom us all this time around, but so far . . . so far . . . the predictions of humanity’s total annihilation have been mostly wrong. This time around, I hope our nation’s schools can confidently move forward based on what we have learned, rather than what we fear.

Whatever happens, the next Transformers movie is predicted to appear in 2023, and although it may not feature Omicron or the others, I hear that they have recruited Chaka Khan for the soundtrack (Chakacron?). I don’t know about you, but I will pay good money for any movie that includes giant robots dancing to “What Cha’ Gonna Do For me?” That’s a guaranteed recipe for success, even during a pandemic.

Tom Deighan is 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

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

August 12, 2022

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 5^th 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

Breakfast with Recruits

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

November 12, 2021

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

Shaving with the Troll Razor

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

May 4, 2021

If you have watched The Big Bang Theory, you may remember references to Occam’s Razor. “Razors” are just general rules or assumptions, and in a nutshell, Occam’s razor proposes that the simplest explanation or solution is often the most likely reality. Big Bang Theory cites Occam’s Razor often, which is a bit ironic since the entire show is based on making everything simple as complicated as possible.

Hanlon’s Razor is similar: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity. (I love Wikipedia!) This glib razor is actually traced back to a joke book submission (again, Wikipedia!), but an aunt might express this more compassionately: “Bless their heart, they just didn’t know any better.” Unfortunately, Hanlon’s Razor cuts both ways, for ignorance of the law of gravity won’t protect anyone from a hard landing, whether they were pushed or blindly walked off a cliff. However true Hanlon’s joke may be, it is still a very harsh and cynical way to look at people.

I prefer an earlier version of Hanlon’s Razor attributed to Johann Wolfgang Goethe that is much more forgiving: “Misunderstandings and lethargy perhaps produce more wrong in the world than deceit and malice do.” (Yup, Wikipedia.) Goethe’s view is much more accurate in my experience, especially when it comes to human disagreements. Zealots and trolls surely exist, but miscommunication and misunderstandings are at the root of most problems between rational individuals who are open to consider both context and intent. Malice takes over when those disagreements escalate and communication deescalates, however. Unfortunately, in our social media age we can no longer extend the benefit of the doubt, only vitriol. Only the worst (and most complicated) options are considered such as malice, deceit, or stupidity. Occam’s and Hanlon’s razors have now been replaced by the Troll Razor: Attribute absolutely everything to malice and stupidity, even if it could be otherwise attributed to mere miscommunication or an innocent mistake. (Not Wikipedia.)

How many people’s lives, careers, and reputations have been ruined due to misunderstandings, bad thumb dexterity, or being too busy to think through a click? We no longer allow for context or intent, so misinterpreted or mistaken tweets have literally destroyed dreams. People in a hurry have “liked” a comment or photo from a friend without thinking through the sociopolitical implications of a newly defined word, misplaced comma, disordered sentence, or typo. Every email, text, or post can now drag anyone to virtual execution. Life on the edge of the Troll Razor provides no grace to anyone, whatsoever, unless they agree with us.

Good men and women on both sides of the political aisle and from all backgrounds have suffered the slice of the Troll Razor. I personally know people who have experienced this at all levels, from private citizens to politicians, over the past year. But if you think this culture is tough on adults, we cannot even fathom the Troll Razors slashing at our children and teens. Online and virtual reality is real world for the smartphone generation, and we know kids can sometimes be vicious. We may have all faced bullies on the playground as kids, but the bullies can now follow kids home and live in their heads.

Nevertheless, our kids handle this better than many adults. After facing it so much, they are learning to dull the Troll Razor by ignoring, deleting, and disengaging, which is quite remarkable considering how many adults around them wield the Troll Razor with impunity. After getting cut both ways, our children are learning that not every offensive post, email, or text is spawned by pure evil. They are often just misunderstandings, hurriedness, or poor thumbing. They are learning that rational people can disagree and even make mistakes. They can even “like” the good in something without “liking” the bad, embracing people, despite their flaws . . . and their own. If our kids can extend grace in a social media age, maybe adults can, too. In fact, I am sure we all will, for eventually everyone gets cut by the Troll Razor, and we will begrudgingly follow our children’s examples. And by the grace of God, someday, rational people will put away their blades, leaving the trolls alone in their caves to slice and dice each other.

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

Toby Dawn’s Serious Summer Plans

Mostly Education

Tom Deighan

May 25, 2022

Please pray for me, for every year shortly after graduation, my lifelong friend and childhood hero, Toby Dawn McIntyre, attempts to whisk me away for a summer adventure. He once surprised me with a motorcycle and sidecar immediately after graduation ceremonies, “Hop in, Tommy Boy!” He said, tossing me a pair of old aviator goggles. “Summer Vacation starts tonight!” I was wearing a suit and tie, so I passed. The next summer, he sent me a box full of fish heads as an invitation to join him at an Alaskan fish cannery. Last summer, he begged me to join him as a truck driver in Europe. They had a serious driver shortage, “And they’ll pay us to see the sites!” he told me. So far, I don’t know what he’s planning this year, but he has been texting a lot of Mickey Mouse memes.

No one takes their summers more seriously than Toby Dawn McIntyre, but few people can take three months to kayak down the Mississippi, not even most educators, despite the perception that we take summers off. Mountains of work pile up during the summer, including most of the maintenance and technology projects. If you have a student, you know about the endless stream of summer camps for everything from STEM to sports to the arts. Many schools also offer summer school, which often includes busing and feeding children.

In fact, summer is the busiest time of the year for principals and other administration because we must wrap-up one fiscal year, start another, and hire staff. Many of the other staff also have summer jobs. When I was a classroom teacher, I drove a semi, hauled hay, worked at a truck stop, and even worked at a summer camp. (I was a terrible camp counselor – too many spiders.) Those without summer jobs get recruited for stuff all summer long. Visit any Vacation Bible School or summer church camp, and you will find a slew of school staff. They make summer stuff work when they are not working at school.

Assuming that educators do nothing during the summer is like assuming that wheat farmers only work during harvest or that tax accountants only work during April. Summers are less hectic, but the pressure is on for a good school year. Great athletes are made in the off-season, and so are great school years, so whenever something looks easy from the outside, it probably wasn’t. Hard workers and gifted people make things look easy, and most “gifted” people are really just hard workers. All of this applies to students, too.

Busy kids are happy kids, so put them to work, keep them engaged, and kick ‘em outside once in a while, so they can learn to drink from garden hoses. (Hose water is tangy!) And if you really want happy summer kids, make their bedrooms device-free zones overnight. Sure, they will kick and scream a little, but within a short time, you might see those Tik-Tok “ticks” subside. Let them start a summer job or project. I have mad respect for hard-working kids because they grow up to be successful adults. As Toby Dawn says, “At some point, you can’t fix lazy,” and I have rarely seen a hard-working kid become a lazy adult.

As the 2022 school year wraps up, begin this summer with intentionality, for great summers do not happen by accident, and next school year depends on it. Whether you are a parent, an educator, or a student, purposely plan now for a great 2022-23 school year. Work hard at having fun this summer, like my friend Toby Dawn, for summertime, like childhood, is fleeting. Cherish every moment. And if you see a large red-haired man riding a motorcycle with a screaming man trapped in a sidecar, move out of the way. If we are also wearing Mickey Mouse ears, you can bet we are headed to Disney World.

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

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