Whose a cute little illegal?????

Just a quick post. I wanted to find some information about Tom Horne. Maybe something out there would explain why he does what he does. My internet skills being what they are (OK. I stayed home to raise my kids so I'm self taught!), the pickings are slim. I did find that he was born in, wait for it...... Montreal, Quebec, CANADA. Not here. I'm not laying the blame for his racist agenda on our fellow North Americans to the North, but what about his papers??? Is he a naturalized citizen?

Use of the word RETARDED or The Other N Word

I had a younger brother named Mark. For some reason, Mark grew up with several different labels. One of them was "borderline brain damaged". Try explaining that to friends. What it meant was that my brother, my only sibling, was not able to learn the way most kids did. He did learn to read. He learned how to ride a bicycle. He tried to learn to drive, but that was bit beyond his capability. He mowed the yard, helped our dad put a new roof on the house and volunteered with vacation Bible school. In fact, he had a reputation for offering to help and never refusing a request.

Life was tough for Mark. I wondered how it was going to be for him as he grew older. People could be cruel. Some neighbors didn't want him living near them in the apartment complex. We suspect that some drug dealers were using him and his apartment for a while to move drugs. Mark had a temper. He never attained a level of maturity to make enough good choices on the job. This made it difficult for him to keep a job. After a number of attempts to keep employment at a variety of different jobs, his last position was at a sheltered workshop.

In early spring, 1998, we lost Mark. His death is a mystery to us who knew him. He rode a bicycle all over Lower Bucks County where he lived. He was very careful to ride where it was safe. My dad said that he would often ride out of his way on safer streets than to take a chance on a more direct route. At the start of rush hour this March afternoon, Mark was leaving the workshop to go home. Instead of crossing at a light, he chose to cross Hwy 13 in between intersections. A driver, who had no time to react, hit him. Mark died shortly after he arrived at the hospital.

Let me tell you about the memorial service for a "Retart". Every pew in the church was filled, as was every seat in the extra rows set up in the back. Although this was a Monday evening, mourners arrived from all over the Greater Philadelphia area. This included family and friends from New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland and Ohio. I flew in from Italy where my husband was stationed at the time. There were ministers, church elders, teachers, classmates, social service workers, neighbors and people I hadn't seen in years. Because of severe back pain, I sat in the back of the church where I had a good view of everyone who attended. I was so pleased. Many people stood up during the memorial to tell about how Mark had touched their lives.

I like to watch Glee. Although I don't like Sue Silvestri as much as anyone else, part of me loves her. I love that she has a sister with Downs Syndrome and that they have such a special bond. I love that she chose a Downs student to be a Cheerio. I love that people are beginning to get it. They are beginning to see past the label of "retarded" and see the folks for what they can do. Yep, they do make contributions to society. Their families love them and mourn their deaths. I know that I am who I am because of my brother and that is very important to me.

I do have a point and I'm ready to get at it. When I hear the words "retarded" or "retart" (I've spelled it as I've most often heard it.), I am offended. It's one thing to use the word in, say biology where you talk about something that has retarded growth of a plant. It is another thing to use the word as a synonym for junk, useless, bad, waste, etc. When I hear the word used this way it reflects on my brother and all the men and women like him. My brother wasn't junk or useless. He was a treasure.

Kinship

I recently read Tattoos on the Heart by Fr. Gregory Boyle of Homeboy Industries. "G" dedicated one chapter to the concept of kinship. As a priest, Fr. Boyle has said last rites for over 200 young people who have been a part of Homeboy Industries. Many times he has been the bearer of sad news to the mothers of young men who have been killed in some aspect of gang related violence. Grieving with friends and the family 200 times is an example of kinship. Perhaps kinship on speed, but you get the idea.

As I read this chapter, I thought of teachers I know who have this kinship with their students. What is kinship? We read a lot about caring from Nel Noddings. Caring is a good thing, but kinship has to go further. I believe that when you share certain experiences you develop kinship with your students. Erin Gruel has a kinship with the Freedom Writers because she encouraged her students to write about their lives. She read their stories and honored the courage it took to share. Jeff Duncan-Andrade lives in the neighborhood with his students. They know he's there for them, as he knows they are also there for him. I know of a teacher in Tucson who attends the games, tournaments, recitals, performances of his students. He makes time in his life to be involved with his students outside the classroom. He also has a way with teaching math that is very effective.

Several years ago I asked David Stovall about white teachers in Chicago schools. He replied, "We don't need any missionaries." I understood what he meant, but until I read the Boyle chapter on kinship I didn't have a way to express it. Today I asked him about kinship. He said that teachers who look at their students with the "lens of pity" don't get it. Tyrone Howard who was on the same panal added that teachers need to find themselves in the students. He added that they also need to take time to care. Do your students need a ride home after school? Do they have a pen to do their work?

When we decide to be teachers, we want our students to like us. Teaching should not be a job where we punch a clock. The time we spend getting to know our students, giving our time over and above what our contracts demand, leads to kinship. Coaches know this. Classroom teachers need to work on this. It's not that our students like us, but that they know we sincerely like them.