One of my duties at the school at which I teach is spending an hour a day working with students described as being “at risk” – as in, at risk of failing several of their classes. It’s challenging work, but I enjoy it. Establishing a rapport with the kids is imperative to both their success and my success in working with them. Sometimes, it’s as easy as lending a student my Ipod charger. Other times, it’s more complex, such as when a pugnacious student suddenly changes his attitude when he realizes I’m the only one in the room who can help him with his Spanish homework.
There are a few players, though, who are very tough nuts to crack. One of them, a sophomore named “Brandi,” is one such student. She’s smart but failing every subject. She typically responds to gentle admonitions to take her seat with defiance or even anger. I can’t imagine what her home life must be like. I don’t think kids turn out that way by accident.
About six weeks ago, Brandi was in rare form and decided that she would “punish” me by giving me the silent treatment, simply ignoring my directions altogether and turning her body in an obvious, theatrical move designed to tell everyone in the room that she was ignoring me. It was all I could do not to laugh out loud at her antics, mostly because I’d seen my six-year-old niece do the same, complete with “you can’t see me” crouch, a few weeks before. (If you’re wondering, yes – Brandi was eventually removed from the classroom for her antics.)
I got to thinking about Brandi’s little silent treatment stunt again more recently, because it’s appeared again, but this time coming from the most unlikely of sources – the Governor’s office in Madison. I’ll let the rest of my weekly email to his office speak for itself:
Dear Governor Walker and Lt. Governor Kleefisch:
Another week, another email from me. You – or more likely, your aides – no doubt are growing weary of seeing my name in your inbox. They may well be suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome after hitting “delete” yet again.
For my part, Governor, I’m growing weary of the silent treatment I’ve been getting from you since well before all this started.
And I’m not alone. At this moment, 97,000 Wisconsin teachers are still waiting for you to talk to them. The vast majority of educators has neither the time nor the desire to call you under false pretenses. We just want you to listen. We want you to understand, or at least try. Perhaps you’ll even deign to discuss things with us at some point. And then, maybe you can offer your perspectives on the following questions:
Do you appreciate us?
Do you respect the work we do?
Do you even care what we have to say, or have you always felt that there’s no need for discussion since we may not agree with all you say and stand for?
Do you understand that the anger that has arisen in our state has everything to do with the underhanded way this bill was ultimately passed and far less than with the monetary concessions that we were more than willing to make?
Do you realize how much of our hearts and souls go into what we do, every single day?
Can you fathom how deeply it hurts when your leader vilifies you and your colleagues publicly, apparently forgetting that the words “taxpayer” and “public employee” are not mutually exclusive?
Can you even imagine how heartbreaking it is to watch dozens of talented, seasoned professionals with many more years to give Wisconsin children dab tears from their eyes as they turn in their retirement papers because they’ve essentially been forced out?
Do you truly understand the devastating impact this bill will have on Wisconsin’s children, or do you just like how “lower property taxes” looks as a campaign slogan for your next run for office?
Are you at peace with the joyless places our schools have become, simply because you didn’t take the time to listen?
Perhaps someday I and my colleagues will hear from you, but until then, I remain most sincerely yours ….
Linda Havas
Still Deeply Proud To Be An Educator Even If My Governor Seems To Think I Shouldn’t Be
