Skipped a few weeks. Sorry to the throng that is my readership (Thanks Mom!) This week and the successive summer weeks will probably be rants and raves, and not lessons. This blog is supposed to be full of stuff for effective teaching, so I hope these upcoming post will serve as a chance for reflection and recharging .
Pensacola, Florida is known as the “city of five flags.” It was not until 2015 tht the city saw fit to remove the Confederate Flag from its government buildings and the gateway to the city, and replace it with the state flag.
I traveled home to North West Florida to see my mother and sisters for the first week of summer vacation. I grew up there and have many strong feelings about the place. It is in the south. It is in the Bible Belt. It is in a red state. It is a military town. It is one of the poorest counties in America. And everything… is just fine…
As long as you are somewhere in there. As long as you belong to the correct denomination, live on he correct side of town, vote a certain way, salute when saluted etc.
Proud idiots pose in front of Pensacola’s Grafitti Bridge a few years ago. For a great response to this kind of attitude read this blog post.
In its own weird way, it also has the tiny patches of progressivism and liberalism. People protest wrongs. There is a billboard on a highway that accuses the NRA of terrorism. Queer folks have been using our beaches, and downtown as a home and recreation for decades.We had an awesome punk rock scene in the eighties and still have a thriving music culture.
Pensacola toutes its “sugar white sands.”
My mentors live and retire there. Linda who taught me everything I know about teaching goes to Marco Rubio ‘s office once a week and says to his staff :
“Mark has received 750,000,000 (ok I don’t remember the number but this is close)* from the IN ARE AYE. Now what is he gonna’ do about gun control?” (Linda has a fantastically beautiful accent.)
So it is very much the south. A place of contradictions and conundrums. A place where smiling old ladies will fix you glasses of sweet tea and ask you matter of factly if you have let the Lord Jesus into your heart? (If you want more tea, or to ever date their granddaughter again, there is only one answer.)
A place where there is a literal train track where economics and color change. Where segregation is alive and well on the beaches, in the parks and restaurants. A place where if you are poor you have been so for maybe one hundred years now. A Place that keeps you on your side. A place that can be physically so beautiful but so superficially polite, that when you are rejected and vilified for your difference, you feel somehow to blame.
And so I teach. I taught there for six years in a desegregation magnet. We used a gifted curriculum and applied its best practices to all children. Color, ethnicity, academics, all differences received the same high level of careful instruction. All were given opportunity to learn and care. But eventually, I had to leave.
So I am stuck with the conundrum that is the South, and these days America. Do we stay and slog out the good fight in places that turn their backs on us because our differences are more palatable than our similarities, or do I go and find a place where I am comfortable ?
A week ago I got the news that I will be moving on to a new job. A place that just might need allies, and fighters. A place where change has already started but ultimately the success of the students will be in response to if people will see the similarities and not the differences.
So I don’t know if I made all the right choices leaving one place for another. Fortunately there is always a place for people looking to do good, to open doors, and hearts.
*I was way off. Linda let me know it was only 3 million.