The Problem Isn't Teachers
Stories and Essays that tell the Truth About the Real Plight of American Education
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
“Watch CNN.”
My cell phone rang. I answered. A teacher colleague from southern California who had travelled with me on various speaking engagements was on the phone.
“Ray?”
“Yeah, Mickey.”
“You watching CNN?”
“No, I’m out having lunch.”
“Watch CNN. Our school is on lock-down. I’m lookin’ out my classroom window. I can see two, no, three helicopters. At the entrance way of the building are platoons of police in helmets and shields separating hundreds of black and Hispanic students-- multiple fights all over the campus. God, hope they can get this under control. Damn, shot just fired through the window of my classroom Everybody on the floor. On the floor. Now! Now!” Damn, good thing we’re on the second floor. Ray, can’t talk now.”
As I put my phone down, a rush of memories filled my mind and I was transported back in time. The phone was ringing and my secretary Phyllis was screaming.
“It’s Chief Wise of the Hammond Police.”
“Hello, George?”
“Ray, we have a full-blown situation here at Central High. We’re working with your building administrators, but this thing may overrun our resources and we may need help from East Chicago and the Chicago police. Wanted you to know.”
I drove to the scene. I could see young people standing on corners holding hand guns and carrying rifles.
I got out of my car near the football field. It was at that moment that I was most terrified for coming out of a neighborhood of mostly southern whites were seven or eight young men. They were all white and carrying weapons of all kinds notably shot guns and hand guns as they moved toward the high school. My terror was knowing that if they walked far enough in that direction, the corner of the building would no longer block their sight-line and they would then see the armed black group on the corner of Calumet Avenue.
At that moment a Hammond squad car, siren and lights on, came careening around the corner from Sohl Street moving directly toward them. They scattered quickly into the neighborhood. For the next full three hours the police slowly yet steadily regaining control of the neighborhoods and streets..
Somewhere near 7:30 p.m., faculty and staff were beginning to gather in the high school cafeteria. Many were still in a state of shock. Some had vomited or would soon do so. Others were sitting and shaking, while still others just stared blindly into space. Pat O’Rourke, President of the Hammond Teachers’ Federation, and other union leadership were moving from teacher to teacher, trying to calm frayed nerves or just hold those who could not stop shaking. They would continue tending to their comrades ‘til all were safely out of the building that night.
The potential for in—school deaths had come close. It had come very close.
A Proud Young Navajo
It was the first day of a dream project created by Don Sims, Chief Administrator of Riverside Indian School in Oklahoma. Gaagii Nez, a student and proud 14-year-old Navajo had never been so happy. In his hands was his share of that dream—a copy of that day’s USA Today. He hadn’t yet opened the paper. His eyes were fixated on the newspaper label identifying him as the proper recipient. He was holding in his hand his newspaper, his newspaper addressed specifically to him. He gazed at it for a long time. He had never before seen his name in a newspaper in print. He was so proud. This, his first newspaper, he would save and at Christmas when he went home to Arizona he would bring it and show it to his grandfather, Niyoi, leader of his family and tribe. It would be a moment of pride.
It was Saturday, The 18th of December. The bus ride that began in Oklahoma, then eventually made its way into Arizona had been uneventful. There would be a stop soon in Flagstaff. He would get off. He needed to go to the bathroom. As he left the bus, he carried only his treasured newspaper.
No sooner had he finished going to the bathroom and washing his hands, when two big white men came in. The bigger of the two looked down at Gaagii and said, “Hey, Indian kid, gimme that Goddamn paper.”
Gaagii grasped his paper tight, looked up nervously and replied, “Ah …. it is mine.”
“Hey, give it here ya motherf---in’ little shit—probably can’t read it anyway.” They then both laughed.
Gaagii, sensing the danger tried to run and escape, but his pursuers were too big and blocked his way. In the brief fight that ensued, his newspaper was shredded. As he lay on the bathroom floor he could hear the men as they left, “Goddamn it … paper isn’t even today’s.” They through it aside then left.
Gaagii, too weak yet to stand, crawled toward the urinal where most of his newspaper lay. He found the label with his name, stained with urine and wet now also from his own tears as they quietly fell from his face.
As he lay there on that bathroom floor with the scrap of paper bearing his name held tight in his fist, his whole body filled with rage, shame and sadness. At that moment thoughts of his grandfather filled his mind. Niyoi would have been so proud—so very proud.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
If there’s one thing that Americans have in common, it’s that the truth we seek is constantly being obscured. We are lied to, and the lies come from many sources: the commercials we watch, the politicians who court us, and leaders like the tobacco company executives who swore that nicotine is not addictive. They come in many forms: from fabrications suggesting that our children’s scores on international tests somehow define us as second-class people and from false declarations that American teachers are the cause of the nation’s educational problems. Unlike Jack Nicholson’s angry declaration as Colonel Jessup that “You can’t handle the truth,” we think you can handle the truth. But first you need to know it. Therefore, we wrote this book. It is filled with stories and essays that tell the real truth about the plight of American education. Some of the stories will make you laugh; some will make you cry. You will become angry; occasionally you’ll be shocked. Each chapter reveals deep problems, but you will find no easy answers, for there are none. What you will find are bold answers that will require the fighting spirit and courage of an entire nation. You will be challenged to join a “war worth waging.” Finally, we have identified the real villains, for there are villains in these tales. As the chapters undress them for you and expose their true identities, you will simultaneously be introduced to unsung heroes who teach in our nation’s classrooms. By the book’s end, we believe you will join us in declaring these heroes to be the cement that holds the nation together. They have never stopped teaching the skills and civility that the next generation needs to participate in and contribute to the ongoing life of our democracy. You will come to know the American schoolteacher.
About the Author
Marion J Golarz received a B.S. in English Language Arts Education and an M.S. in Education with a certification in reading from Indiana University at Bloomington. She has taught high school English, and she was a Title I reading teacher for elementary, middle school and high school students. She also taught reading and social studies to special education students. She taught at Purdue University Calumet, Indiana University Northwest, and Indiana University East as a guest lecturer in composition. While at Purdue University Calumet, she tutored students in the writing lab. Her educational experiences have also included presenting workshops to teachers, parents and administrators regarding research relevant to educational topics. With her husband, Raymond, she co-authored The Power of Participation, an in-depth discussion regarding shared decision-making processes in schools and also co-authored Sweet Land of Liberty, a touching story of early twentieth century immigration to the United States.
She and her husband Raymond have six children: Tanya Scherschel, Michael Golarz, Scott Golarz, Jocelyn Golarz, Daniel Golarz and Thomas Golarz. They presently have five grandchildren. She currently resides in Bloomington, Indiana, with her husband Raymond, their youngest son Thomas, who is completing post graduate studies, their two cats Lucky and Patches and Tom’s Boxer pup Conan. Life remains full. Their e-mail address is mjgolarz@live.com
Raymond J Golarz holds a B.A.degree in Sociology and a B.S. Degree in Education from St. Joseph’s College in Indiana. He received his master’s degree and his Doctorate in Education from Indiana University. He taught as a middle school and high school teacher, and then served as the Director of Child Welfare Services where he supervised delinquency prevention and intervention programs and worked with delinquent gangs. He taught psychology at St. Joseph’s College, Purdue Calumet, Indiana University Northwest, and City College in Seattle. In addition, near Chicago he also taught Psychology for Law Enforcement for nearly 10 years. He has been an assistant superintendent and superintendent of schools. He enjoys keynoting and has keynoted for school districts and major conferences in virtually every state in the United States. In addition, he has keynoted in most Canadian Provinces. He is the co-author of Restructuring Schools for Excellence through Teacher Empowerment. He co-authored with his wife Marion The Power of Participation and Sweet Land of Liberty. In addition, he is the author of Yellow Jacket Football in Hard Times and Good and a companion book When the Yellow Jackets Played. These two books, using the backdrop of rugged American sandlot semi-pro football near Chicago, focus on the strengths of the early immigrants who came to America, and with their children lived the challenges of the Great Depression.
All of his life, Ray has enjoyed sketching and oil painting. He now resides with his wife Marion and their two cats in Bloomington, Indiana. He will miss his son Thomas when he completes his second college degree and moves on. And, of course, he and the cats will also miss Tom’s pup Conan. Who will there be to sneak in and eat the cats’ food when he’s gone?