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A guest post by mom, Maria C. Salazar

In 1962, I was fourteen years old.  I had only been in the U.S. for a few months.  I felt like Cinderella attending my first concert; it was with mariachi music.

I was going with Mr. and Mrs. Meza.  Mr. Meza was the director of the group.  They were the family my mom was working for as a housekeeper and babysitter.  Also, there was another couple going.  It was Mr. and Mrs. Castro, very good friends of the family and they were very nice to my mother and me.

I was excited.  It was the first time in my life that I was going to a concert, even if it was with older people.

Mrs. Castro put a little bit of make up on me, which my mother wasn’t too happy about.  Mrs. Castro was telling my mother, “Look Lupita.  Look how pretty Conchita looks.”  Conchita is my middle name.  It was the first time I had make up on me, so I was thrilled.

At the concert I was happy just listening to the music.  At the time, I didn’t dance yet.  I had danced different kinds of dances at school in Michoacan, Mexico: polkas, folkloric, and traditional dances for our special programs during the spring shows, Mother’s Day, or Independence Day.  I started participating since I entered first grade.  My teachers always picked me to dance or to recite poems for these occasions.

Between 1963 when I was fifteen years old and 1966, my mother and I lived in Chicago.  But when we returned to our hometown of Jacona, I would go with my sister Lola, who is three years older than me, to birthday parties and weddings.  I would dance there.

On July 30, 1967, I got married and that December for New Year’s Eve, my husband invited me out to go dancing.  He took me to the Aragon Ballroom on Lawrence in Uptown.  At that time, it was a very famous place (well, it still is).  The best groups performed there.  We went to dance to music by La Sonora Santanera, Carlos Campos and his orchestra, and other groups.

I was excited to go.  I went to the beauty shop to do my hair.  At that time, my hair was kind of long and long enough to have a French twist done.  I bought a pretty pink dress and black patent-leather shoes.  New Year’s Eve was a freezing, cold night.  The sidewalks were extremely slippery.  There I was, slipping and sliding all the way from the car to the ballroom all dressed up.

Nothing bothered me.  I was having a lot of fun.  I was with the person I loved, who I had chosen to be my husband.  Sure enough, I danced a lot.  I had learned to dance to different rhythms.

My husband is from the northern part of Mexico, from Coahuila—close to Piedras Negras and Eagle Pass, Texas.  He taught me to dance polka and country music, his style.

I am from the central part of Mexico, near Guadalajara.  Over there, we danced jarabes, folkloric music, polkas, boleros, cumbias, danzones, waltzes, and cha-cha-cha.

I am a happy person.  I can dance and listen to music at all times.  No matter what I’m doing at home, cleaning, cooking, or writing, I have my radio, CDs, or cassettes playing.  I like the music that my kids like, hip-hop, rap, oldies, and classics, too. I am not a television person.

It is noticeable when I’m sick or something is the matter with me because I don’t have the music on.

In 1967, my New Year’s Eve dance was a dream come true.  It made me feel like Cinderella with her prince in the ballroom.

This essay was written with guidance from a workshop through the Neighborhood Writing Alliance, which publishes the award-winning Journal of Ordinary Thought.

From left: Ray Salazar, David Steele, Linda Darling-Hammond, Dale Mezzacappa

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

Few areas of education policy and practice are evolving as rapidly as teacher evaluation. Moving beyond a Lake Wobegon world where all teachers are perfunctorily rated above average is seen as a linchpin in the strategy to improve student learning by enhancing teacher effectiveness. But what are the best ways to draw an accurate picture of a teacher’s performance?

To explore this question, on Friday, the Education Writers Association National Seminar (EWA) at Stanford University included a panel titled K-12 Teacher Evaluation: Seeking Common Ground with a professor, a school district administrator, and a teacher.  The moderator was Dale Mezzacappa from the Philadelphia Public School Notebook.  The panel included these speakers:

Linda Darling-Hammond, Standford Graduate School of Education

David Steele, Hillsborough County Florida School District, and

me, Ray Salazar, The White Rhino Blog–which tied for 2nd place in the Best Blog category of EWA’s national reporting contest.

This is the statement I prepared:

Thank you to the Education Writers Association for inviting my teacher voice to be part of this panel.

Our profession has changed. In 1995, when I began my teaching career, I did not have an email address. The Internet was barely finding its way into our schools.

Today, even on Chicago’s Southwest side where almost 100% of my school’s population is low-income, almost every student has a cell phone with Internet access.

A bigger change is that teacher evaluation has gone from being private (between teachers and principals) to being public (between the teacher and anybody and everybody).

After today, I hope more journalists include teachers’ voices in their reporting. Too often, teachers’ voices are not the ones quoted online or in print. We can help to create common ground by articulating the truths and misunderstandings about our profession.

In Chicago, we moved away from a 1980s checklist of extremes with strengths and weaknesses. Now, we use four clearly defined levels of performance for four domains:

1: Planning and Preparation

2: Classroom Environment

3: Instruction

4: Professional Responsibilities

This evaluation system finally articulates what some in our profession and some in teacher-preparation programs feared to define—what is a good teacher?

My students at Hancock High School know:

“Good teachers,” one student wrote, “believe even the student in the back of the class with his head down can succeed.”

“Good teachers challenge students to surpass what they already know–so they achieve academic success.”

“Good teachers react quickly when they notice a student is struggling.”

“Bad teachers,” on the other hand one wrote, “don’t know how to incorporate the outside world with in-class assignments.”

“Bad teachers think they are always right.”

One truth about teacher evaluation is that it must be designed to help teachers improve. An accurate picture of a teacher’s performance is gained by making the evaluation conversation a regular part of our day. We must watch ourselves and others teach. We must examine student work. We must have the courage to say to colleagues, “I’m having trouble with this.” We must also find the courage to say to colleagues, “You’re assignment is not higher-level thinking.” Once-a-year classroom visits won’t help.

A good administrator or teacher knows the reality of the classroom and can engage teachers of all performance levels in a conversation to improve their practice. A wise retired principal told me that anyone can be trained to use the new evaluation system. But not everyone can use it to help a teacher improve. The evaluator needs to be or have been a successful educator.

If we focus on improving our practice, schools will retain good teachers. Bad teachers, and there are some, will know why they are ineffective and they can make a choice: improve or leave the profession.

In the overload of paperwork and politics, however, we can only improve teacher practice if we remember that doing what’s best for students is not enough. The truth is–we must do what’s best for students and what’s manageable for teachers.

In March, when I heard the Chicago Public Schools Chief Communications Officer say in the Chicago Tribune, “You could have a teacher that is high-quality that could take 40 kids in a class and help them succeed.” I have to say, Becky Carroll—you have no idea what’s best for students and what’s manageable for teachers.

Giving students a voice in the teacher evaluations is beneficial and manageable for teachers. One of my students wrote, “A teacher can change the day the principal comes in. We’re the ones that see the real teacher every day and are affected by what he does.” We avoid unfair student evaluations by making student feedback a regular part of our instruction. We also need to ask targeted questions:

• Does the teacher respect students?
• Does the teacher give assignments that make you a better writer?

As we create safe environments where students feel comfortable with themselves, with each other, with people in power, good teachers do more than make students feel good about themselves. On report-card pick up day last month, I saw a tweet by a CPS teacher that read: “Ready to tell parents how amazing their kids are.”

I thought, “Really? You really think that parents don’t know this? That teacher should have said he was ready to tell parents what the student’s academic strengths and areas for development are and what they can do—together—to address these. That’s the tweet that should have gone out.

Incomplete education reporting also contributes to misunderstandings of what a good teacher does. In Chicago, the Academy for Urban School Leadership receives praise in the newspapers. This school-transformation organization uses Teach Like a Champion: 49 Techniques that Put Students on the Path to College by Doug Lemov to train teachers. After a semester of teaching in an AUSL teacher-training academy, I left because, although I believe in a disciplined school, I do not believe in socializing students to be passive participants.

My blog post titled, “This School Year, Don’t Teach Like a Champion” challenges Lemov’s inaccurate definition of championship teaching. When the AUSL coach defined success by having me pass out papers in under 20 seconds, because she stood in the back and timed me, I said no–this is an ill-founded profession priority.

So I ask the journalists in the room, distinguish among these three aspects when reporting about teaching:

1. Classroom management: how class is run and how the students and teachers interact

2. Social-emotional development: how the teacher builds students’ confidence and recognizes their emotional struggles

3. Instruction: how students learn to read, to write, to think critically.

Observe the instruction and ask yourself–is this preparing students for success, one day, in my world?

We also have to stop looking at teachers through a lens of extremes: good teacher / bad teacher. These superficial polarized conversations are fueled by a recent blog post by education historian Diane Ravitch. “Maybe,” she said, “the Common Core Standards will be great. Maybe they will be a disaster.” Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, also fueled superficial polarization this week. While I accept her rationale for a two-year moratorium on Common Core testing, I challenge her extremes. She said, “I predict these standards will result in one of two outcomes. They will either lead to a revolution in teaching and learning. Or they will end up in the overflowing dust bin of abandoned reforms.” These views are like the outdated teacher evaluation checklist of extremes CPS just abandoned. We need more thoughtful reactions to enrich the teacher evaluation conversation.

The other misconception is that teachers cannot fight against the limits of our students’ poverty, violence, or tragedy. One of the blog posts I submitted for the EWA reporting contest is an article about Dulce Padilla whose brother was killed by gun fire and whose sister was murdered five years later. Dulce told me that, after the incident, all she wanted was time to heal. A clinical psychologist advised me to help students heal by providing age-appropriate opportunities to share their experiences—when they are ready to share.

When Dulce chose to write about her sister’s death for a personal essay assignment, I did not tell her how sorry I felt for her. That’s not my place as a writing teacher. Instead, I made sure Dulce used a semicolon correctly, unified her paragraphs, and defined her rhetorical purpose. If you read the article on my blog, you can read parts of her essay.

Some educators argue that our low-income, troubled students cannot learn the skills for the ACT because they have too much on their minds. To them and to everyone who believes this I say–good teachers help students heal and transcend their circumstances through academic work and social-emotional support.

Finally, while I believe the consequences of using standardized tests in teacher evaluation will cause more harm than good for students, I do believe that good teachers must incorporate the ACT College Readiness Standards or, now, transition to the Common Core Standards because if we ignore them, we perpetuate the classist, racist, sexist views many activists claim to be fighting against. Good teachers use these standards to help students enter a real-world conversation that matters to them.

To see Linda Darling-Hammond’s and David Steele’s slides, follow this link.

To hear a recording of the presentation click HERE.

In your view, what are the best ways to draw an accurate picture of a teacher’s performance?

[Photo by Samantha Hernandez]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

Google is renowned for its doodles, the images embedded into the search engine’s logo on special occasions.  This Easter—March 31—Google is not recognizing the spiritual or secular holiday.  Instead, for the first time, Google recognizes Cesar Chavez, the farm worker, the union leader, the Chicano.

While this doodle may upset more people than John Lennon’s 1966 comment that the Beatles are “more popular than Jesus,” giving prominence to this often disregarded American is admirable.

In 2011, President Obama declared March 31 Cesar Chavez Day in recognition of the leader’s birthday.  Obama now needs to make this a national holiday.

Chavez was a leader in the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s.  Along with Dolores Huerta, he founded the United Farm Workers, a union dedicated to fighting for farm workers’ rights.  They fought for bathrooms, safe housing, decent pay, safe tools.  Later, they fought against pesticides.

To gain national attention to these efforts, Chavez and Huerta organized a grape boycott.  Then in 1966, they led a famous 340-mile march from Delano, California to Sacramento.  An image of Our Lady of Guadalupe led the march, reminding us that Chavez was a man of faith.

Chavez’s most recognized sacrifice is his 1968 fast in protest of unfair labor conditions.  When the fast ended, Robert Kennedy joined Chavez for a meal.

In 2003, the U.S. Post Office released a commemorative stamp celebrating the union leader.  I bought one that year, the year I finished graduate school, and keep it in a small frame near the place where I work, where I write.

It’s seems foolish that a search engine’s doodle should receive so much attention.  For Chicanos, however, this decision affirms what we’ve always believed—Cesar Chavez merits national recognition.

My father came to this country as a farmworker, a bracero, in 1957.  He heard Chavez speak once.  Suprisingly, it was my father’s work in the fields that opened the doors for me on National Public Radio over ten years ago.  An essay about my father’s work and my decision to become a writer aired onAll Things Considered in August 2002.

When I started my teaching career, my mother who worked in a warehouse, told me, “You always join the union.”  I did.  And while I’ve questioned many times the logic of my union–the Chicago Teachers Union–I still see the value, the power, the need for a organized labor—especially for teachers.  We just need to be better about communicating what we’re fighting for.

I hope that on this day of rest, those of us who belong to and lead labor unions can devote a moment to self-reflection and search within ourselves for an answer to this question: “What would Cesar Chavez say today about our labor efforts?”

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

On Wednesday, one of Chicago Public Radio’s reporters published a piece that criticized Chicago Public Schools leaders for refusing to confirm if shooting victims attended Chicago Public Schools.  Because my students and I have been studying subtext and the gun-control debate, I took advantage of this teachable moment.  It was an opportunity to reflect on the public portrayal and perception of public schools.  While my students and I focused on a brief, specific news piece, I hope this can help others consider the implications of including a student’s school name when reporting a student’s death.

Becky Vevea reports that “there may be up to eight current and former students killed already in 2013, but CPS officials will not confirm any of those victims, citing a decades-old federal privacy law to withhold the information. It’s a practice they say they’ve followed since Mayor Rahm Emanuel took office.”

The piece includes the views of a national expert who says CPS is not restricted from confirming this information and the parent of a shooting victim who says the school’s name should be shared.  The piece ends with the reporter paraphrasing this parent who says that sharing the school’s name will lead to community efforts that support schools, communities, and families.

My students and I listened to this piece. Then I asked them what was missing. They mentioned that CPS’s perspective is not included. They also mentioned that students’ views were not mentioned. Some suggested that it would be a good idea to ask students what they thought about mentioning their school with the victim’s name.

Then I showed them the list of students included at the end of the piece, which was preceded with a disclaimer that “these are unconfirmed by CPS.”

Octavius Lamb, 20, graduated from Wells Community Academy
Devonta Grisson, 19, attended Gage Park High School
Rey Dorantes, 14, student at Clemente Community Academy
Tyrone Lawson, 17, student at Morgan Park High School
Antonio Fenner, 16, freshman at Manley Career Academy
Hadiya Pendleton, 15, sophomore at King College Prep
Frances Colon, 18, senior at Clemente Community Academy
Oscar Marquez, 17, junior at Marine Military Academy

We observed that two of the students in the list no longer attended CPS schools when they were shot.

We then discussed the advantages and disadvantages of including the school’s name.  Finally, students had to decide which subtext was coming through stronger:

1. WBEZ really cares about the effect of shootings on communities.

2. WBEZ is suggesting that CPS is somehow responsible for or associated with these shootings.

35% (23 students) chose subtext 1.  These are some of the explanations they gave:

• “We can get a better idea of where these ‘problem’ communities lie.  We can also come together for a safer public school system.”
• “WBEZ implies that it really cares by using a clip from a distressed parent.  The troubled woman sees her son’s death as an opportunity to change Chicago communities.”
• “The parents and students have to be informed of what is happening.”
• “We live in Chicago but we don’t always hear about everything that occurs in Chicago.”
• “CPS is not responsible for shootings but it’s wrong for withholding information.”
• “WBEZ wants people to feel as if nothing is being hidden from them.”

65% (43 students) chose subtext 2.  These are some of their explanations:

• “CPS is just responsible for the students during school time.  The schools can’t control everything the students do outside of school.”
• “When WBEZ mentions that CPS isn’t obligated to share this information then at the end they state that CPS hasn’t confirmed this, they are clearly trying to make CPS look bad.  Also, not taking the communities’ or students’ views into account is suggesting that their opinions don’t matter.”
• “The murder was not done in the school so why ruin the reputation of the school if the students no longer attend?  WBEZ should only report information that is logical to the shooting.”
• “In the recordings, WBEZ only showed their side and only interviewed those who support their opinion.”
• “CPS doesn’t have to let that info out because the students weren’t in the school when they were shot.  They were in the community, so the community should still stand up and help.”
• “Attending a CPS doesn’t mean you are going to be a a victim of violence.”
• “The point of informative articles is to gather facts, not tie them together to influence an opinion from the reader.”
• “If WBEZ truly cared, they would have included more personal stories and more possible solutions to attempt and create change.”
• “It seemed that WBEZ is emphasizing the schools instead of focusing on improving the community. “
• “Although some would argue that WBEZ wouldn’t do this piece if they didn’t care, radio stations need listeners and for this they need a story that is relevant to their areas.  I see this as getting more airtime from locals.”
• “WBEZ: if a killing was done at a higher ranked or private school would you go and do the same research over there?”
• “WBEZ should interview students to find out if the shootings are happening because of problems inside or outside of the school.”

While the lesson is action-based research and not scientifically based research, I am motivated by my students’ abilities to think critically about the information they hear.

I know that WBEZ education reporters did a lengthy piece on the violence affecting Harper High School, a struggling school on Chicago’s South side.  If we have an opportunity, I’d like my students to hear this and predict the implications of this reporting.  Will it educate and motivate residents to improve these troubled neighborhoods so young people can succeed or will it contribute to the disdain and skepticism of young people in these troubled neighborhoods?

This article was first published in The White Rhino.

[Photo by benkersey]

By Ray Salazar, CNN

During Tuesday’s State of the Union address, President Barack Obama spoke about gun violence, and he continues the discussion in Chicago today. He recognized in his speech, “our actions will not prevent every senseless act of violence in this country.”

As a high school teacher in Chicago, I want to hear more than an acknowledgment that shootings are happening, that young people are dying violently and unfairly.  I want to hear his determination to push through Second Amendment politics and assure us his leadership will make our streets safer. We might not be able to prevent every senseless act, but we must decrease the desensitization that encourages only one-word reactions to shootings: “Again?”

My first teaching job in 1995 focused on troubled teens at an alternative high school on Chicago’s Southwest side.

Click on picture to read full story.

[Photo by The White House]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

With the Obama administration and the bipartisan senate Gang of Eight poised to move on comprehensive immigration reform soon, which may include an agricultural guest worker program, our country has much to learn from our labor history.  During WWII, the Bracero program allowed Mexican men to enter our country legally to harvest fields.  This is how my father entered the U.S.  During WWI, Mexican laborers were sprayed with pesticide before they could enter our country.  In 1917, one 17-year-old maid led a protest, the Bath Riots, against this toxic treatment.

Nine years ago, this essay about my father’s labor in Texas opened the doors for my writing on National Public Radio.  I share this essay again to remind our country about our dependence on immigrants.  With over 12 million undocumented immigrants in our country, we need reform–not irrational deportations.

In Illinois and four other states, undocumented immigrants are eligible for driver’s licenses.  As of last fall, DREAMers, younger undocumented immigrants without criminal records, can obtain work permits.  The political voice in support of comprehensive immigration is stronger than it has ever been.  May this essay remind us of the human aspect of our arguments and of the need for reform–soon.

_________________

For a kid in Chicago’s Little Village Neighborhood, the only thing worse than being called a wetback was being called a Brazer. Wetback just questioned your US status–but who cared?  Brazer, however, insulted your appearance.

During the early 80s, if someone wore a blue guayabera and black shoes with white socks for school pictures, we called him a Brazer.   If we saw a girl walk down the street with long braids we yelled, “Brazer!”  On 26th Street once, I saw a dark- faced man in jeans, cowboy boots, and a baseball shirt with S-U-E ironed-on the front; I thought, “Brazer.”  None of us knew what the word meant.   We just heard it and used it to talk about those who spoke with too much of an accent.

It wasn’t until college that I learned that the word came from “Bracero:” a Mexican man who was contracted between 1942 and 1964 by the U.S. to do agricultural work with his “brazos,” his  arms. My father did this type of work, so he was a Brazer. I don’t know if I felt more guilt or more shame for thinking that a Brazer was the most humiliating thing a Mexican could be.

The Bracero Program was established during the Second World War to help solve the U.S. agricultural worker shortage.  It allowed American farmers to hire Mexicans to harvest fields. Both sides saw the rewards: good labor that was cheap and steady work that paid. The law was extended in 1951.

Men from all parts of Mexico came to border towns, signed contracts, and waited for the chance to work. In 1956, more than 80,000 of them passed through the El Paso, Texas Center.  Braceros stood in corrals until they were chosen for a physical exam.   If they passed, they were awarded work permits for days or for months depending on the contractor.  Once the permit ended, the Bracero was returned to Mexico. Since the men came from rural towns, many extreme in poverty, the guarantee of at least thirty cents per hour was a fortune.

One day in 1957, my father Raymundo, left his farmhouse in St. Rita, Coahuila (a tiny town of dust and desert). His father had sent word that there was work up north.  He went to Piedras Negras, border to Eagle Pass, Texas, to meet-up with his father, Ramón. Once there, my 21-year-old father rode the bus to Monterrey to sign the mandatory contract.  My father was lucky.  Because my grandfather spoke good English, the U.S. contractors hired him to select workers.  My grandfather naturally chose my father to work.  Men who weren’t selected, my father remembers, killed their hunger by eating mandarin peels.

A Bracero had to look strong, healthy.  Disease or physical limitations excluded him immediately.  To prove that they had farm experience, men would rub rocks between their hands to make them rough.  Soft hands meant no opportunity.  My grandfather would stand above the corral and point “Tú . . .Tú . . . Tú” to men who looked up with ambition.

In Ciudad Juarez, on the other hand, the situation was different.  Guillermo Rosales, a family friend, was a Bracero there.  He tells how white men waited for them with plastic gloves as they clustered underneath the sun.  They were told to strip; then each man was examined.  “Lo querían enterítamente entero,” they wanted you completely whole, explains Rosales, emphasizing with his eyes.  Then the men were sprayed with pesticide to kill bacteria, disease, and lice.

My father’s experience was nothing like this.   If it had been bad, he still wouldn’t have complained.  His attitude toward hard work was to do it.  Pictures of him in his 20s show his face firm and arms thick from turning over earth.   Without a mustache or a beard, my father looked into the camera calmly, stern and made sure his hair was pushed back, just so.  At 5 foot 6, he had a chest broad enough to breathe the Texas air and carry harvests on his back.

Whatever discomforts my father felt during this time because of the sun or because of the work, I can’t know because he won’t say.  “What’s the best memory you have of being a Bracero, Dad?”   I ask.  My father bursts out laughing to hide the nostalgia he’s afraid will bring him to tears: “I had a lot of girlfriends.”

Not everyone had it this good.  In Chicano lit class, I read And the Earth Did Not Devour Him and saw the pain that campesinos felt as they stared into the dirt.  I ask over and over about  illness, racism, abuse, or loneliness. My father shakes his head until I understand this life for him was pleasant.  But I also understand that others were abused.

The first wave of Braceros unknowingly authorized pay deductions for their retirement when they signed contracts in English.  Advocates estimate that the total amount withheld, with interest, exceeds 150 million dollars.  Not surprisingly, the money can’t be found; most Braceros don’t expect it to be.

But the money is not the only thing that’s disappeared.  Many people with a father who picked crops have forgotten how that work made our life more comfortable.  In the 1960s, my father stopped working with the land, found his way to Chicago, and became a mechanic.  The scars from both jobs have never left his hands. At seventy-four, his palms have never softened.  At twenty-six, I began  to chance my dreams with writing because my father chanced his upon a word.

Brazer.  Kids on Chicago’s Southwest Side still assign the term. They’re unaware that this word for outcast once gave so many hope.  They overlook the calluses on granddad’s hardened hands as he gives out Sunday dollars.

Instead, they hurl the word—Brazer–at anyone’s who’s different.  And it lands like punch.  Or a slap, from a hand that isn’t callused and barely has a scratch.

[Photo by National Museum of American History via @ZinnEdProject]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

There is a point in any engaging text, whether visual, spoken, or read, where the organization of ideas reaches a high point.  And everything changes.  In short stories, novels, and poems, this turn happens two-thirds into the text, at the end of that section.  In a 90-minute movie, it happens at the 60-minute mark.

In today’s inauguration address, before a section of paragraphs where our president reminded us that “you and I have the obligation to shape the debates of our time,” President Obama mentioned immigration reform as his high point.

He led up to it, of course, with less controversial debates.

First, he reminded us that “our journey is not complete until our wives, our mothers, and daughters can earn a living equal to their efforts.”  Almost no one will disagree with this.

Then, he reminded us that” our journey is not complete until our gay brothers and sisters are treated like anyone else under the law.”  The acceptance of civil unions and the strong push for gay marriage make this issue less debatable today.

But then, he mentioned arguably the most controversial measure his office committed to take on–immigration reform.  “Our journey is not complete,” our president said, “until we find a better way to welcome the striving, hopeful immigrants who still see America as a land of opportunity; until bright young students and engineers are enlisted in our workforce rather than expelled from our country.”

And before the audience could respond with skepticism or criticism, our president quickly transitioned to something no one can challenge: “Our journey is not complete until all our children, from the streets of Detroit to the hills of Appalachia to the quiet lanes of Newtown, know that they are cared for, and cherished, and always safe from harm.”

Nice move, Mr. President.  But let’s not let the gun-reform fight silence our persistent need for immigration reform.

The language that followed the high point reaffirmed his commitment to our country and our own commitment to our country’s success.  Let’s hope this was our president’s attempt to make immigration reform possible this year.

May we reminded him and ourselves regularly of our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  But more importantly, may we remind our president and ourselves of what he said today, too.  “For history tells us that while these truths may be self-evident, they have never been self-executing.”

Immigration reform cannot happen by itself this second term.  Those of us who support it need to keep it at the forefront of the conversation and not simply wait for it to happen.

[Photo by The White House]

(Editor’s note:  The Illinois Senate will vote today, Jan. 6, 2013, on whether or not to give driver’s licenses to undocumented immigrants.)

By Bianca Cervantes, Hancock College Prep Senior, Chicago Public Schools

Americans today tend to believe that undocumented immigrants should not receive a driver’s license because they have illegally entered the country. Illegal immigrants have to carry out daily activities such as driving to their jobs to sustain themselves or taking their children to school. Furthermore, these undocumented drivers, like licensed drivers, might have accidents. According to AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety, “More than 14% of all accidents are caused by uninsured drivers resulting in a $4.1 billion in insurance losses a year (reported in New York Times Upfront). In a 2007 statement, Los Angeles Police Chief William Bratton stated, “Granting driver’s licenses to undocumented immigrants would reduce the number of hit-and-runs and increase the number of insured motorist on the road.” Bratton highlights what I consider an important point about all drivers being insured and having a driver’s license. Undocumented Immigrants in theU.S.should receive driver’s licenses, proving that this new law will improve the lives of all U.S residents.

The New York Times, in an article by Jennifer Medina, reports, “The battle to grant licenses to illegal immigrants  in California began in the mid-1990s. State Assemblyman Gil Cedillo of Los Angeles pressed for and got legislation passed giving illegal immigrants the right to a license in 2004, but facing a statewide referendum opposing the change, he withdrew it. Now, with just a few months left in his final term in office, Mr. Cedillo has vowed to pass the legislation again.” He argues that it’s difficult to get the state to grant driver’s licenses to all undocumented immigrants and I agree because even thought the legislation was able to pass the law, there was no support in the community.

Others argue that “states that issue the same licenses to illegal and legal residents will soon be in violation of new federal standards.”(New York Times Upfront editorial).  In an editorial, James Jay Carafano from the Heritage Foundation states that driver’s licenses will complicate the federal system because undocumented immigrants will take advantage of this law to receive other federal benefits.  However, states do not necessarily need to issue the same driver’s licenses that legal residents receive. For instance, “Utah issues special licenses to people who cannot prove their citizenship. These licenses are good only for driving but not for other uses like boarding airplanes” (New York Times). Therefore, federal law can resolve these issues by granting undocumented immigrants different driver’s licenses that are not similar to U.S citizens’ driver’s licenses.

Illegal immigrants come to the U.S to work hard and achieve the American dream, and undocumented immigrants having a driver’s license will only help them prosper. In the editorial accompanying Carafano’s, Tyler Moran from the National Immigration Law Center states, “There are at least 12 million undocumented immigrants in the United States; they are our neighbors, our classmates, and our coworkers. They didn’t come to the U.S. to get a driver’s license, but like most Americans; they need to be able to drive to get to work, to take their kids to school, and to carry out daily activities.” Tyler mentions an important point because undocumented immigrants are part of our community; in addition, illegal immigrants with or without a driver’s license need to carry out daily activities that require driving.  In a May 3 New York Times article, Andrew Smith, a Police Department spokesman, states, “’You have situations where you are pulling someone over and you’ve got a husband pulling out the baby seat from the car and a wife crying. For us, that’s a really difficult thing when we want to show some humanity.” Officer Smith realizes how arrest affects undocumented families, and I agree undocumented immigrants become mortified at that point, even when the stop is routine.  I wholeheartedly endorse what officer Smith calls justice and humanity since illegal immigrants feel that they are being discriminated for their ethnicity rather than their actions. Illegal immigrants fear that one small mistake from breaking the law is the result of deportation and being separated from their family. Therefore, the new law will allow state officials to cooperate with these situations.

When Melissa Block from NPR’s All Things Considered interviewed Governor Spitzer of New York in 2007, Block asked Spitzer if “giving illegal immigrants’ driver licenses would make the country less safe, that it could help criminals and terrorist get identification.”  Spitzer responded, “Clearly it’s preferable to have them licensed, have names and faces in a database. The DMV database is the most frequently searched and sought- after database in the nation from a law enforcement perspective because it’s comprehensive nature. Having millions, in essence, live below the radar screen is not healthy at any level.”  In other words, Spitzer believes it’s a benefit to have everyone identified under a federal secured database because it will create a safe and secure community. Granting driver’s licenses will not put the community in danger because, as recent research has shown, “the police department for years has tried to cultivate trust among immigrants.” (New York Times). A relationship between immigrants and police officials would increase cooperation with police investigations. Instead of immigrants being part of a hit-and-run accident due to the fear of being deported, undocumented license drivers will be more willing to face regular crime procedures for breaking the law. These drivers will be insured and tested for vision and driving ability. Safe drivers with license will help the community be under great protection and help police officers identify criminals when stopped and asked for identification.

The vote in Illinois passed the House and will be presented to the Senate in probably this month.  Ray Long from the Chicago Tribune reported “Under the program, undocumented immigrants would be eligible for the special, three-year licenses to drive a vehicle. It would be a different in color from a regular driving license. It also cannot be used for identification purposes, such as for boarding a plane, buying a gun or voting.” Not only the new law enforces federal identification purposes; at the same time, Senate President John Cullerton states, “Licensing and insuring all immigrant drivers will ease the burden on jails and courts, which are currently drained by holding people solely for driving without a license or insurance.”  Overall, the idea of undocumented immigrants will allow our state to have safe highways and help police officers incriminate people for crimes rather than stopping undocumented immigrants for living the American dream.

Sources:

Medina, Jennifer. “A Change in Police Policy Has Immigrants Hoping for More.” New York Times 3 May 2012: A18(L). Gale Student Resources In Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

Lacey, Marc. “License Access In New MexicoIs Heated Issue.” New York Times 24 Aug. 2011: A1(L). Gale Student ResourcesIn Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

“Should illegal immigrants be able to get driver’s licenses? Six states currently allow them to do so.” New York Times Upfront 14 Apr. 2008: 22.Gale Student ResourcesIn Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

“Illegal immigrants to get driver’s licenses in New York.”The New American26 Nov. 2007: 10. Gale Student Resources In Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

“Illegal immigrants to get New Yorkdriver’s licenses.”The New American 29 Oct. 2007: 8. Gale Student Resources In Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

“Spitzer Drops Illegal-Immigrant License Proposal.”All Things Considered 14 Nov. 2007. Gale Student Resources In Context. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.

Long , . “Illinoisdriver’s licenses for illegal immigrants measure advances.”Chicago Tribune News 29 Nov. 2012, n. pag. Web. 18 Dec. 2012. <http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2012-11-29/news/chi-illinois-drivers-licenses-for-illegal-immigrants-measure-advances-20121129_1_licenses-for-illegal-immigrants-immigrant-drivers-license-issue>.

This article was originally a research paper submitted by her teacher, and NewsTaco contributor, Ray Salazar.

[Photo by stephenhanafin]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

I’ve remained silent watching the news about the funerals for the victims—especially the children—of the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting.  I watched two parents on CNN last night talk about the loss of their daughter.  The little girl wanted a pony and, for Christmas, the parents bought little cowboy boots the little girl never saw, never wore.  I watched without writing a word.   All I could think was, “If my daughter died like that, I wouldn’t be able to breathe.”  Perhaps, however, for those parents, telling the world about their daughter’s happy wishes is how their little girl will live on.

On Twitter, I passed along the articles, the commentaries forcing the conversation for gun reform.  For me, shootings are a close memory.  About ten years ago, I was shot at driving home near my old house on 26^th Street.

From a separate incident, my brother has the scar in his shoulder from a bullet.  Next to that scar is the name of his friend who died from another bullet that night.

Many times in my old neighborhood around 26^th Street, I awoke from gunshots on Saturdays at 3:00 a.m.  Even near my new home a little more south and a little more west in Chicago, occasionally, I hear a gun.

I thought I would remain silent about the Connecticut shooting until I saw how people were insensitively twisting the tragedy away from the horror of so many innocent deaths, the bravery of  teachers and staff who died saving children, the trauma a town—a country—will suffer because one unstable man had access to unnecessary firearms.  Instead, I saw one blog post encouraging everyone to hug a teacher because “we would all take a bullet for your kids.”

Although sentimental, I really don’t want students or parents hugging me, praising me for something I have not and—I pray—will never have to do.  What’s a teacher supposed to respond after that hug?

“You’re welcome?”

The logic, or lack thereof, that pushed me to write something about the Sandy Hook shooting is that Diane Ravitch, a renowned educational expert and President Bush’s former assistant Secretary of Education, turned a post meant  to celebrate teacher heroes into one reminding us those teachers “belonged to a union. The senior teachers had tenure, despite the fact that ‘reformers’ (led by ConnCAN, StudentsFirst, and hedge fund managers) did their best last spring to diminish their tenure and to tie their evaluations to test scores.”

Ravitch inserted an attack against Connecticut’s Governor Malloy for saying “that teachers get tenure just for showing up.”

Ravitch finished by saying that “Newtown does not need a charter school. What it needs now is healing. Not competition, not division, but a community coming together to help one another. Together. Not competing.”

So Ravitch’s logic here is this:

A heavily armed gunman forces himself into a school

plus,

The principal and a psychologist are killed trying to stop that heavily armed gunman

plus,

Brave teachers are killed protecting their students

plus,

Twenty innocent children are killed

therefore,

Newton, Connecticut doesn’t need another charter school

WHAT?!

The real issue is the need for legislation to ban assault weapons like ones with the “Rambo effect” used by the gunman last Friday.  Our country also needs to increase mental health services in schools, in cities—that’s what this education expert should have promoted with her power.

Instead, we see Ravitch—someone with a national platform—using this tragic opportunity to fight against the anti-union, pro-charter movement she personally disagrees with.  This is beyond politicizing the event.  This is just illogical.  It’s a teachable moment for all of us in education.

The tragedy of the Connecticut families and other families who’ve faced massacres do not compare to the gun violence I faced first hand.  But my experiences with gun violence are strong enough to say that the conversation after the Connecticut massacre needs to be about preventing others, not about hugging people who are associated to this tragedy by profession.

Good teachers and good administrators wage strong fights to create safe learning environments every day.  Cheering against a education reformers who want to set up a charter school—instead of the National Rifle Association and legislators who promote unnecessary gun ownership—will not protect our schools from future tragedies.

We need to make the Connecticut shooting the last teachable moment for gun reform.

[Photo courtesy  DonkeyHotey]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

Tradition inspires faith but hope perpetuates devotion.  On December 12, Mexican Catholics mark the appearance of Our Lady of Guadalupe in 1531 on a hilltop.  Today, Mexicans crowded churches at dawn in celebration.  Over two million people will gather throughout the day next to Tepeyac Hill in Mexico City where her basilica stands.  For Mexicans, Our Lady of Guadalupe remains a symbol of unending faith, cultural pride, and religious identity.

For me, my faith in this religious image, despite the controversy of her origin, helped me believe my mother would win her fight against cancer seven years ago.  Almost thirty years ago, my family looked to this religious image as my sister battled leukemia at Chicago’s Children’s Memorial Hospital.

When Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared to a Mexican indian named Juan Diego, she asked him to convince the bishop that a church be constructed in her name.  As evidence of her appearance, roses miraculously grew in December.  The indian harvested the flowers and carried them away.  When Juan Diego released the roses at the bishop’s feet, an image of Our Lady remained on his apron.

That image still exists.  Scientists challenged its authenticity without success.

It is our tradition, when she intervenes on our behalf, to leave candles and roses as ofrendas at her feet.  Seven years ago, a version of this essay aired on National Public Radio as my offering of thanks.

Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, again I offer up my work, my writing.  With unending gratitude for my mother’s health and for my sister’s survival.  And with fervent hope for all women who fought and keep fighting cancer–especially for those who must unfortunately fight for high-quality affordable health care.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

I stopped believing in the Catholic Church for a few years.  But I never stopped believing in Our Lady of Guadalupe.  She’s separate from scandal.  She’s brown, humble.  And unlike the other saints who stare blankly past people requesting intervention at their plaster feet, La Virgen never looks away. She has unwrinkled eyelids and black lashes.

Her original cloth image is enclosed behind bullet-proof glass in Mexico City.  It’s surrounded by as much gold as the controversy of her origin.  Every December 12, millions of Mexican Catholics serenade her and buy roses in her name.  Catholics worldwide recognize her as the patron saint of the Americas.

I was sixteen when I saw her in the basilica on Tepeyac Hill.  People made their way down the long aisle on their knees.  Worshipers around me whispered in appreciation.  My grandmother knelt praying in a pew.  I stared at the image trying to figure out what to say and what to do.

But when my mother was diagnosed with cancer in 2005, I knew exactly what to ask for when I knelt in front of La Virgen at St. Pius Church.

My son and I were with my mother when she found out.  I held her hands.  The same hands I have.  The hands my son inherited.  When the doctor spoke, my mom folded over like a finger.  I searched for every way to assure her that cancer is surmountable.

I went with her to every doctor’s visit.  I stood behind the curtain while the doctor examined her.  I respected her privacy but never left her all alone.  Seven years later, my mother is strong.  And I keep praying for her health.

La Virgen has the power to unite people in a crisis.  She was an organizing force behind the farm workers, along with Cesar Chávez.  She brings together educated Chicanas who might be skeptical about the Church, but never doubt the power of a brown-faced pregnant saint.  La Virgen is the single Mexican woman powerful enough to pull a European Pope across an ocean.

Like La Virgen, my mother taught us to unite during desperate times. That year, each person in my family joined my mother in her fight.  My youngest brother engaged her in heart-to-heart conversations.  My sister, the leukemia survivor, took my mom on trips to flea markets.  My other brother didn’t talk about it so my mom could focus on what was good.  My father made her oatmeal to make sure she ate.

That’s my mother’s quiet influence.  Throughout her life, she teaches us to overcome controversy, desperation, and doubt.

La Virgen does the same.  I see her now in alley murals, on concrete walls, ID bracelets, gold charms.  I recognize the influence of her existence.  La Virgen is one woman who changed a continent’s perspective simply by existing.

Seven summers ago, my mom inspired us to take a Sunday drive.  We filled two vans and two cars and drove to the outdoor shrine for Our Lady of Guadalupe in a Chicago suburb.

Underneath the sun, my mom stood before the image trying not to cry.  My father ambled next to her.  Then my siblings and I accompanied by our spouses and the grandchildren.  Now there are twelve.  Huddling around our mother, asking for intervention of immeasurable worth, we all prayed silently.  We stood together resolutely—like roses.

[Photo by Esparta]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

Finally, Republicans and Democrats know that they need more than mariachis playing behind them to win the Latino vote.  By now, almost everyone heard about the Latino influence this presidential election.

The signs were everywhere.  Maybe this is the 2012 cosmic event predicted by the Mayan calendar.  Now, President Obama must recognize Latino views as he moves forward with economic recovery and immigration policy and farther with education reform.

None of the parties should have been surprised by the Latino vote.  On October 7, CNN’s “Latino in America: Courting the Latino Vote” reported that more than 60,000 Latinos turn 18 each month across the country, and we care about more than immigration.

To read the full commentary, go to CNN’s Schools of Thought Blog.

[Photo by Vox Efx]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

I am an uncle to many nieces and nephews—too many to take on outings all at once.  I sadly realize, also, that my life is too busy to take them out more.  So last week, I invited my 11- and 13-year-old nieces to see The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

I sat next to them watching, promising myself I would not text or fall asleep.  I couldn’t.  I enjoyed the opening where Charlie, a freshman, is lonely in a high school of jocks and affluent Pennsylvania-area teens in the early 1990s (very early: the characters still make mix tapes).  He sits alone at lunch.  I heard my nieces laughing.  “Good,” I thought.  “This will help them see adolescent awkwardness (not that my nieces are awkward) and celebrate teenage transcendence.”

Then, Charlie befriends Patrick and his step-sister Sam who invite him to a party in a house with chandeliers.  Charlie eats his first brownie with weed.

“Oh oh . . . maybe the girls won’t figure it out,” I hoped.  Nope.  The director made it clear Charlie is high.  Damn.

All the misfits, who are seniors, love Charlie when he’s high.  Later on, everyone loves Charlie when he casually trips on LSD.  We’re happy Charlie is found New Year’s morning passed out in the snow and ends up in the hospital.  “That’s good,” we think.  ”He’s safe.”

Of course he’s safe.  He’s rich.  He’s white.  As long as on-screen characters are affluent, which usually means white, we see their irresponsible behavior as a life lesson we should learn.  We’re OK when Ferris Bueller cuts school, when the Breakfast Club aggravates an educator, when the blond cheerleader ends up drunk with the freshman in Sixteen Candles.

During the LSD scenes in Wallflower, a man in the theater laughed loudly with chuckles that sounded like “Ahhhhhh . . . Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  I remember what that was like!”

But if the characters are black, brown, poor (redundant on the silver screen), we keep saying, “How can he do that?”  Or “He’s wasting his life!”  Or “What kinds of parents do these kids have!”

In real life, we see the role of affluence, too.  A few years ago, I got a call from an affluent dad asking me to change his daughter’s grade.  She had not passed a technology and writing skills class (because the work was too easy for her, of course) and now that she had and F because she didn’t do any work, she would attend summer school instead of summer dance camp.  “Can you please reconsider, Mr. Salazar?”  At that moment, I understood this type of family involvement.  Isn’t this what people say we need more of in urban schools?  Parent engagement?

Throughout the movie, as Charlie started gaining more female attention, I kept telling myself, “It’s PG-13.  It’s PG-13.  No nudity.”  Then I remembered that “13” means something else these days.  Soon, Charlie’s on the sofa in another parentless house with chandeliers, drinking wine, and touching the new girlfriend’s breasts over her dress.

“Do you want more soda?”  I asked so they would take their eyes off the screen.

“I’m OK.  No thanks,” they said.

Thankfully, the writer made the girl’s parents come home early.  I thought: “You see!  Bad things!  Bad behavior!  They’re in trouble!   Yes.  They.  Are!”

But Charlie escapes.  The girl zips up her dress in time, I guess.  Charlie’s even driven home by the senior in her own little car.  He waves good night and goes to bed.  He probably dreams.

I didn’t know the movie would eventually lead to Charlie revealing the trauma of sexual abuse with a suggested suicide attempt.  “You broke the English teacher’s code, Salazar,” I told myself.   I saw the movie before reading the book.

As most of us know, Charlie spends time at a hospital, gets therapy, and everything works out.  Charlie’s breaking point came because of a sexual encounter with a Sam, the senior he’s had a crush on finally expresses her affection for him.  We’re glad this girl made a move Charlie.  We’re glad the movie suggests they slept together (I was grateful the scene faded out).

But what if Charlie had been a female freshman?  But what if Sam had been a male senior?  What if Charlie, now a female character, had been abused by an uncle instead of an aunt?

We wouldn’t leave the theater with a sense of peace.  Would this movie even make it to theaters?

The perks of being a wallflower are only available to affluent teens in the cinematic world and, arguably, in the real one.  The movie aims to convince us that all of this is a coming-of-age experience.  Many online descriptions of the book use this same phrase.  The movie pushes us to believe that if we let teenagers be themselves,  if we let teen misfits relax with other misfit teens on weekend nights in affluent homes with drugs and wine under chandeliers, everything—everyone—will turn out fine.  They all got into college, after all—good colleges, too.

This truth only works in affluent on-screen neighborhoods like Charlie’s and in the 80s movies of John Hughes.  It may even work in affluent suburbs and neighborhoods around here.

Instead of forcing the conversation about the need for awareness and prevention of physical and sexual abuse, The Perks of Being a Wallflower silences us.  We leave the theaters with the idea that has allowed so many teens to hurt themselves and others: “They’re just being teenagers.  They’ll be fine.”

On the drive home, I kept changing that radio as my nieces rode in the back seat.  A Rihanna song came on.  Change.  Some sexy reggaeton song.  Change.  I put on my Sting CD.  “Where’s the damn smooth jazz station when you need it?”

I knew my nieces didn’t want to have philosophical conversations with their uncle.  So I fell into my awkward adult default social skills:

“Who was your favorite character, m’ija?”

“Who made you laugh the most?”

“You want a cheeseburger?”

We drove the 25 minutes home in silence, except for my singing, which caused quiet giggles.

Two blocks before I dropped them off I said what I felt I needed to say really fast: “Noboyfriendorfriendshouldeverhityouormistreatyou.  Youletmeknowifanyonedoes.”

Then . . . I forced . . . myself . . .to calm . . . down.

“And no one—no one—can ever touch your private parts.  If anyone ever tries, if anyone ever makes you feel weird, you let me know.  I love you.  Goodbye.”

They got out of the car and I drove away, satisfied, perhaps selfishly, I had said something to my nieces who are 11 and 13.

[Photo courtesy Summit Entertainment]

By Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

For the first time in my life and for the sixth day, I stood on strike by the high school where I teach. On August 31, for the first time in seventeen years, I wore red to support the Chicago Teachers Union. A few months before that, I gave my vote to authorize a strike; I belong to the over 90% of union members who voted “Yes.”

I’m still on the picket line because, at yesterday’s CTU meeting, even though 220 delegates voted to return to work today, 350 delegates voted not to.

So I stood on the sidewalk today thinking. As the second Monday of our strike continues, as we wait to hear if an injunction against the strike will force us back to work, as we wait for the Wednesday meeting where delegates vote again in favor or against continuing the strike, I ask myself, “What have good teachers gained from striking? And what have we lost?”

1. Good teachers gained an understanding of why we are here.

Quite simply, we are here because of our mayor, Rahm Emanuel. In a previous post, I wrote that when Emanuel came into office, he began a fight bigger than his ego. From the start, he insulted teachers, minimized what we do, and imposed questionable education leaders and school reform. Unlike our previous mayor who served twenty-two years and understood the invisible politics of our city, Emanuel is blind. Mayor Emanuel underestimated the force of organized labor. I don’t know if any political machine can repair the damage he’s done to himself.

We got to this point because Mayor Emanuel pushed for Senate Bill 7, which changed teachers’ negotiating powers, strike conditions, teacher evaluation, and the length of our school day. Illinois Education Association’s SB7 fact sheet outlines the changes. SB7 requires 75% of CTU members to authorize a strike; over 90% of us voted in favor last spring.

Last night, Mayor Emanuel argued that we are beyond our negotiating power; therefore, our strike is illegal. Catalyst Chicago Tweeted CPS’s press release about the injunction today, which specifies that SB7 “expressly prohibits the CTU from striking over noneconomic issues, such as layoff and recall policies, teacher evaluations, class sizes and the length of the school day and year. The CTU’s repeated statements and recent advertising campaign,” CPS argues, “have made clear that these are exactly the subjects over which the CTU is striking.” A judge will consider this Wednesday.

Our CTU President contributed to our situation, too. In a press conferencemade available online April 2011, President Lewis referred to SB7 as “historic” and said she had to “love the process” (she speaks at 17:46). She said that the conversations leading up to SB7 allowed for “ideology to meet reality.” She said, “If all bills work like this, it’s gotta be a good thing.” When she returned to the CTU House of Delegates, however, they disagreed. A couple of weeks after that press conference, CTU released a statement demanding changes. It was too late. SB7 became law soon after.

2. Good teachers, however, lost lots of public support.

Mayor Emanuel is not a likable guy. But neither is President Karen Lewis many times. While Lewis had the power to unify and mobilize 30,000 of us, she failed to secure the public’s trust. At press conferences, Lewis comes off antagonistic. Someone who worked with Lewis as a teacher described her to me as “bombastic.” And in front of the mic, she is.

Two Sundays ago, Lewis and CTU failed to give us and the public clear, specific, and repeatable demands. At the September 9 press conference announcing the strike, Lewis told a reporter not to prioritize the issues she presented. CTU succeeded in making this strike inclusive but failed by making it vague.

Early last week, one colleague’s doorman told her he remembers the 1987 teachers’ strike: “Oh, parents will support you the first few days,” the doorman said. “Then they’ll turn on you.” Last night when the strike was extended, many did.

Emanuel coined “strike of choice” and used it regularly. Now, his office is using “delay of choice.” It’s sticking. And CTU is stuck trying to regain public support. If we had gone back to the classroom today, we would have secured it. Emanuel would have remained the bad guy in all of this. Now, Chicago Public Schools teachers don’t look so good either.

3. Good teachers realized the importance of their teacher voice.

Good teachers should be responsible for making decisions that directly affect our profession and our students. Business people can contribute financial decisions. But when it comes to the classroom, good teachers need to be involved. So many conflicting priorities fall on us from the area, district, state, and D.C. that we must shout: “STOP! Let a good teacher tell you what’s working and what’s not.”

CTU mobilized us to flood local parks and downtown streets. Too many of us, however, are hiding inside our red t-shirts and silencing ourselves. I keep hearing, “We have to remain united. We can’t show any weakness.” We’re afraid of someone thinking differently. When did thinking differently make a person weak?

In last week’s post, I invited all CPS teachers to explain why they teach. I wanted to combat the negative advertising against us. Over eight hundred people read the post in only a few days. Over two hundred “liked” it. I’m thinking a good chunk of them were teachers. Yet less than ten teachers used their teacher voice to post a response in our defense.

Last Wednesday on B96, two striking teachers used their teacher voices to compete for a Girls Night Out cruise on Lake Michigan. The callers expressed how stressed out they were from striking and how they needed a chance to party with the B96 crew and a mob of their friends. One of the striking teachers won the right to party. We cannot use our teacher voices against us.

As with all professions, we have a small percentage of ineffective professionals. Good teachers know who the bad teachers are. We need to help each other grow. But we also need to be professional enough to use our teacher voice and say to a colleague, “This is not the right profession for you.”

With the strike, we proved that school reform is needed. Parents, more than ever, want a seat at the table. Two parents started their own organization: Chicago Students First.

The reforms, however, are complicated. More picketing won’t make reform happen overnight or gain us the respect we need to lead these. Isn’t that what we really want—respect?

We united. We defended our profession. We used our strike to negotiate a reasonable agreement in tough economic times. If CTU could have gotten a better contract, I believe they would have.

With my teacher voice I’ll quote a mayor who sadly passed away during his administration. Mayor Harold Washington at his inauguration repeated, simply, what Chicagoans needed to hear then and what we need to say now—“Let’s go to work.”

[Photo by mpeake]

Ray Salazar, NewsTaco

Some people get excited by football.  I hoot and holler and jump on my couch during key speeches such as last night’s at the Democratic National Convention.

Before tonight’s main speeches, one of the CNN commentators said, “If you tell people what they already know, they stay where they are.”  This was the challenge that Julian Castro and Michelle Obama faced.

For the first time in history–first time–a Latino delivered a keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention.  San Antonio’s 37-year-old mayor spoke with the passion of a generation, my generation, who had to reawaken its political consciousness.

I feared that Castro would replay the son-of-immigrants story who pulled himself up by his bootstraps.  He didn’t fail.  But he didn’t succeed in mobilizing the Democratic Party or Latinos.  He made the Latino community look good.  But he didn’t deliver the message that we need to be–that we can be–a political force to drive change led by the Democratic party.

Here’s why: while his speech was strong with stories and emotional connections, he had too many stories that made the speech forgettable because there were too many ideas we could hold on to.

A little after he turned the focus to President Obama after his opening, Castro said the dream to succeed is universal but our country makes it possible.  Then he mentioned the boot straps.  Even though these were only hints at cliches, they hit on the expected and created an opportunity for the audience to detach from his speech instead of moving forward with him.  As the CNN commentator said, we already know this.  We’re not going to move.

I feared the speech would be soaked in neutrality and emphasize his and his brother’s success, but, to his credit, Mayor Castro threw some punches.  He said that the difference between his high school peers and his ivy league peers was “not intelligence or drive. The difference was opportunity.”  Then he emphasized the need to invest in opportunity today.  Good move there.

He went on to say that Romney doesn’t realize how good he’s had it.  And Castro reminded us that “if we severe the threads that connect us, the only people who will go far are those who are already ahead.”  Better move.  But weak.  We know this.  He’s not moving us forward with him.  It just sounds nicer than the way we would have said it.

Then he had that audience participation section: “Mitt Romney said NO.”  The speaker right before him used the same approach.  Castro overused it.  Again, another emphasis competing with too many other key ideas.

I didn’t realize how ordinary his speech was until Michelle Obama spoke.  While Castro moved the audience to cheer, the first lady moved us to action.

The high point was this–when Michelle Obama referenced her daughters:

“Because today, I know from experience that if I truly want to leave a better world for my daughters, and all our sons and daughters…if we want to give all our children a foundation for their dreams and opportunities worthy of their promise…if we want to give them that sense of limitless possibility – that belief that here in America, there is always something better out there if you’re willing to work for it…then we must work like never before…and we must once again come together and stand together for the man we can trust to keep moving this great country forward…my husband, our President, President Barack Obama.”

One sentence. Unified.

Castro, on the other hand, looked forward to his daughter’s success as if it is almost guaranteed:

“She’s still young, and her dreams are far off yet, but I hope she’ll reach them. As a dad, I’m going to do my part, and I know she’ll do hers.  But our responsibility as a nation is to come together and do our part, as one community, one United States of America, to ensure opportunity for all of our children.”

He separated his reality in the first two sentences from the rest of the nation in the last sentence.

Many, many more Americans can relate to Michelle’s view than Julian’s.

Castro made an impact but had too many threads for the audience to follow and remember: his grandmother’s story, his mother’s, his own, his daughter’s, references to religion. He started strong with the investment in opportunity but then it got muddy. I found it interesting that he didn’t throw the ultimate punch–a reference (even subtextual)–to immigration reform.

And while Michelle Obama didn’t go there either, she did emphasize the need for a woman to be able to make her own health decisions.  As she mentioned the political, she weaved in the personal.  She made us believe that her and her husband’s rise to success is somehow more attainable than Castro’s.  Ivy league graduates always, in my experience, slip in their alma mater within about 10 minutes of meeting someone. Castro did it.  Michelle Obama did not.

Michelle Obama’s speech achieved its success because it had the rhetorical element that also grounds her husband’s campaign–unity.  The First Lady said, “Doing the impossible is the history of this nation.”  THAT is the unifying message that connected every single story she mentioned.  Castro, on the other hand, had too many key lines that competed.

Castro’s lines moved us to cheer; Michelle Obama moved us to action.

My favorite move by Michelle Obama?  When she spoke about her father’s commitment to her family, she said, “That’s what being a man was.”  She maintained unity by saying that President Obama “was still the man . . . .was still the man . . .”  But Castro’s closing made reference to a marathon and a sprint and then went back to his grandmother and her blessing.  Too much, too familiar, and too disconnected from the opening.

Castro’s speech is something too many Latinos, too many Americans, know.

Michelle Obama’s speech is something we know, but it also gives us something to do.

What do you think of Julian Castro’s speech?  What do you think of Michelle Obama’s?