Sign o' the Times

Preface - Okay, it's been awhile...too long infact. A little ranting may ensue as I am having difficulty getting one of my favortie streaming radio stations to play so as to keep the prose rolling.

Okay...got the music going...


My teaching schedule shifted somehat radically the past November. I went from being a full time coach and teacher, to just teaching. While the miniscule stipend is missed, the hours and boneheaded perspective will not be. In doing so, I naturally picked up more classes. these included two sections of 8th grade American History. This is a dream come true. This is what I got my degree in. To top it off, these are also Gifted and Talented sections. It is the same G/T program that I teach in the 6th grade.

But all of this is merely a back story to the present anecdote.

Somehow, after returning from the Christmas Break, the subject of the Internet came up. One of my students asked if I had a MySpace account. Of course, this is a perfectly legitemate question. However, given the recent rash of inappropraite conduct between some teachers and students, this is a sensitive area. I was hoping that something simple like current geopolitical policy, or religion might come up. We needed something uplifting and lighthearted to break the stiffling silence.

Keeping my cool and with a innocent smile, I informed the student that this was not exactly on topic. Whoa!!! Talk about feeding time at the zoo. No sooner had I muttered this instruction that two or three other students chimed in. Ah yes...the pitfalls of teaching. How the personal gets made public within the classroom. Me and my big mouth expounding upon the freedom of speech and a free press being the corner stone of a true democracy. Ouch!

I did finally 'fess up and tell the class that I did not have a MySpace account, nor did I want one. In a vain attempt to salvage a few cool points, I did mention that I do blogg on occasion. I did not expect the reaction that I got. For the most part, the class made no notice of my little aside. If they did, it was really of little consequence to them in the grand scheme of things.

However, two of my students did. Oye! Walking back to the front of the classroom, I caught one of the students leaning to the side and whispering to another, "Isn't he married?" Oh boy! I was just waiting for some hidden camera crew to spring through my classroom door with the local constabulary in tow. Luckily, it was just my paranoid imagination fed on too much cable tv news. I knew a quick squelching of these psarks need to happen.

I spun around and looked these two straight in the eyes. It was no James Brown, Godfather of Soul...may he rest in peace...move but it was impressive for an individual of my size and age. Again, mustering a somehwat beleagured smile I replied to their inquisition, "I am, and it's not that kind of blog." Whew! Hopefully, I would get a little R & R before the next salvo. As luck would have it, the bell rang singnaling the end of the period.

Ding, Ding....Next Round...

Of course, not being a predator should mean no worries. Right? Not exactly. Being a male teacher in a public school automatically registers a blip on the radar screen of some parents. Luckily, my wife teaches at the same school I do.

What the sad fact is that we as a nation of parents do harbor a sense of mistrust of the educators in the public education system. Given some of the recent event reported in the news media, we can do so without question. But, are all accountant as equally scrutinized since the entire Enron debacle? Lawyers and politicains are, without question. So, I'll leave them out of the equation. Never add a big negative to you equation if you don't have to. But, I digress.

I suppose education will continually be in the spotlight as long as pederast predators continue to pollute the hallways and ignorant politicians continue to gladhand inncuous and senseless education legislation to insure their tenure. However, it would be a nice relief if we teachers could just go to work with out the fear of unnecessary scrutiny. Perhaps our best bet is policing wihtin our own ranks.