Needless to say, I am always flattered when people take the time to respond at length to a post. A couple of days ago I received the following comment* on some thoughts I posted about a speech given by a young man at the Somerville Youth Peace Conference which was published in the Globe as “The graduation speech you'll never hear”.

I was responding solely to the speech printed in The Globe, did not attend the conference or claim to have done, and was not reporting on it, other participants, or their speeches. I don't know the young man in question  through anything but the speech and feature in The Globe, and this, too, was perfectly clear in the post.

The speech which appeared in The Globe focused on the very real problems of mental health, drug addiction, and suicide among Somerville youth, and while the young man urged adults in the community: “don't be afraid to get your hands dirty,” he laid the lion’s share of the blame for the epidemic of despair, drug addiction and suicide squarely on teachers and administrators in his school.

I've spent a lot of my time wondering what causes teens to throw their lives away to drugs. It seems to start around the time when young kids approach high school and begin to enter the adult world. Before that time we are told that we can do anything we set our minds to. Then society starts to put limits on our once limitless possibilities. We are told that "you can't do this because you're not smart enough, not fast enough. Maybe you should settle for less." …

When I attended Somerville High School I witnessed kids who had a lack of dreams remain uninspired and unsure of their future. I witnessed kids with dreams told that they weren't college material and to go into the trade program regardless of their own interests. I also witnessed a police officer there to protect us, supervise us and supposedly inspire us, fired from the force (and later reinstated) for abusing OxyContin. I myself dropped out of SHS in my sophomore year, feeling that school was just preparing me for a job I didn't want so my time there was useless. When I left school there was no attempt to get me to stay.

In my thoughts on the speech, I made very clear I objected to the claim that teacher’s bear responsibility for the despair, drug addiction, and deaths of the young man’s cohorts.

I also said, “teachers aren't there, aren’t paid, and aren’t qualified to deal with the intractable problems of drug addiction, and the social and psychological fall-out from them,” a statement I stand by 100%.

I suggested that we start taking the problems of teen substance abuse and mental health much more seriously. “Substance abuse, addiction, and psychological problems have to be tackled before productive learning can take place.” And, I still maintain, they need to be tackled with the help of professionals trained to tackle them. Our children and communities deserve that.

I did not venture that the young man had used drugs or had anything but "a chip on his shoulder," something anyone reading the speech could easily conclude, and which he himself implies: had anyone tried to stop him from dropping out, he says, "I'm not sure I would have listened ."

Not knowing the young man personally, I certainly have no reason to want to dog him. What I reacted to were some very common assumptions about the place of education in our lives as individuals, families, and communities, which I heard echoes of in his speech, and feel strongly about myself.

And bringing my own long-ago and far-away experiences to bear on the problems of drugs, mental illness, anti-social behavior, and violence in the classroom, I asserted that (a) teachers dealing with pupils who bring acute behavioral or substance abuse problems into the classroom are generally relieved when the disruptive element is eliminated, and (b) we should dedicate more resources to treating such severe behavioral and drug problems, but not in the classroom.

So, as I was saying, I received the following thoughts from a certain “Coach Q”:

Our not so friendly author makes a number of assumptions about the author of "The Graduation Speech You'll Never Hear." First and foremost is that his speech, delivered at a Teen Empowerment Peace Conference, was unadulterated. Many of the topics that our blogger raises were covered in his original speech but were removed due both to time constraints and because the focus of the conference was peace and a positive learning environment within our public schools. I know this because I read the original version.

Secondly, you assume that this is some stupid punk townie with a gigantic chip on his shoulder ranting and raving about events that are his own fault. I recommend you write only about things you KNOW and not what you surmise. I would hazard a guess that you have never stepped in Somerville High, and your prior teaching experience gives away the fact that your attitude towards the profession is sorely misguided.

I am a teacher and a coach. I grew up in inner-city Boston. I have taught in some of the worst inner city schools this country has to offer (New Orleans), before family constraints forced my return back home to Boston.

You write:

"Teachers are not there to solve all of society's problems. They are there, as the name suggests, to teach. To teach English, or French, or math, or biology."

Outside of the first sentence I have never laid eyes upon a more misguided and depressing statement in all my life. Are you suggesting that teachers should not devote themselves to the personal development of their students because they should only be focusing on teaching subject matter? Are you suggesting that teachers should not encourage study habits, critical thinking, athletic participation, involvement in the arts? Are you suggesting that teachers should not keep a sharp eye out for developments at home and on the street that must guide the child in the wrong direction and squash his possibilities in a haze of drug abuse and violence? You may be able to separate all of this from your job as a teacher, but I cannot, because I look at every kid I see struggling to find his place, struggling against a violent home, struggling against drug using peers, struggling against a system that does not desire his success, as myself.

I know firsthand that teachers have a tough job. But that does not excuse them from the responsibility of effort. Yes, having 40 kids in a classroom makes it difficult to reach each one, and yes some will fall through the cracks, but this is no excuse to encourage drop outs, which many teachers in our public schools do whether you care to admit it or not. Does the responsibility lie on the child? Absolutely, teaching and learning is a shared activity that both parties must invest in, but it is the responsibility of the teacher to make the first move, to invest the student in the learning process, and to demonstrate that education will allow for the realization of potential.

Just sayin'.

Coach Q

Y'know, it used to amuse me somehow when in making their points, people contradicted their own claims. Saying things like, “don’t assume” and then making assumptions, or “write about things you KNOW and not what you surmise,” and then themselves doing the opposite. But here and now I find it kind of tiresome, I have to admit. Clearly we are all the exceptions to the rules we make for others.

As for my aptitude for or skills in teaching, the methodology or assumptions I bring to the profession, and my friendliness (not that it is relevant here), I have ten years and hundreds of students who would happily testify in my defense on all counts. I am good at what I do, and I enjoy it immensely. But this is not about me. I work in the private sector, not the public, first of all. And in adult ed, not with youth.

About friendliness. The mere thought of a native Bostonian lecturing anyone from anywhere on that subject makes my head hurt.

And one other thing before we get to the PowerPoint presentation: you will search my post in vain for any mention of a “stupid punk townie...ranting and raving,” which Coach Q. attributes to me. Nor will you find any such derogations in this post or any other, as “unfriendly” as this blogger may be.

So, a few points, Coach Q.:

1) If you had special access to an "unadulterated" version of the speech, I'm happy to hear it. Unfortunately, the rest of us didn't.

You should have seen my original blog post, where I praised the speech extensively for its valuable insights into the teaching profession. Due to time constraints and because my focus was on the absence of families and parents anywhere in the speech as presented, such references were removed.

We can't respond to rough drafts, Coach.

To put it in sports terms: in the end it’s the game you play, not the game you would have played.

2) Speaking of families, Coach Q. You didn't! Virtually no mention of them in the printed speech (except as repositories of grief and shame—“…good kids from good families succumb to their vices. Families…torn apart by a problem no one wants to acknowledge”), and no mention of them at all in your response to my post. That's what I find interesting. Without some inkling that this project is of necessity a triad—teachers, students, parents—I honestly don’t see how any school, any neighborhood, any society can succeed.

(I take the young man's "good family" to be a class distinction, as he himself suggests, not a socio-psychological one, so that "good kids from good families" could as easily be read "rich kids from rich families."  Though I do see a class issue, when I speak of broken families, I'm also thinking across the spectrum.)

That families are broken doesn't make the problems that come from broken families teachers' fault. That's the bad logic that leads to the unsupportable conclusion to which I object. And that's what makes the problem much bigger, harder to tackle, and in need of serious thought and resources.

How has Somerville failed its families to such an extent that families are failing? We should praise teachers for saving the kids they can, but I maintain that to lay any part of the blame for the failure of families on teachers is dead wrong.

It's true, we don’t have a choice as to what family we wind up with—I'm grateful for mine, which was blue collar: my parents both finished high school, my father was a career soldier—but all families are all imperfect.

If you want to know where that kernel of despair the young man spoke of is born, is nurtured, and grows, it’s there, in broken families—and by this I mean, families that are broken, rich or poor, whether both parents are present or not—just as you'll find a source of hope and support in healthy families.

And the damage that abuse and neglect in broken families does is often so terrible that the pithy pronouncements of the Coach Qs of the world, while well-intentioned, can do little to rescue those who’ve spent years in Hell by the time they reach high school, without—and this is key—without the resources and guidance of healthcare professionals trained specifically to intervene on at-risk youths' behalves, and the institutional structure and funds to make these interventions work.

While for most students your touchy-feely approach is probably enough, for kids with serious substance abuse and mental health issues, whose home lives are a wreck, the classroom hugs and cuddles don’t cut it, and I know you that, Coach. And we’re doing all of these kids, our families and communities a massive disservice denying it.

3) So, Coach, I don't doubt that you're a dedicated teacher devoted to each and every one of your students, nurturing their dreams and providing sage guidance to all alike (hey—didn’t Michelle Pfeiffer play you in the movie?)—lucky for them you’ve chosen a profession which suits you so well and for which you’re so well-suited. And equally lucky for them that I have done the same.

Yes, "teachers are not there to solve all of society's problems. They are there, as the name suggests, to teach. To teach English, or French, or math, or biology."

It is precisely a teacher's love of his subject and his or her earnest enthusiasm, dedication and skill in passing on his or her knowledge of it that is The Life Lesson we take from education.

Mr. Davis: the gruff biology teacher who discerned my interest in biology and spent time teaching me how to set up an aquarium and what to do when my fish had little fishies. He was a biology teacher. He taught biology. I learned about biology from him. We didn't talk about who he was sleeping with at the time or what he ate for breakfast on any given day.

We were bound by our curiosity, by my desire to learn what he could teach me, and his to teach what he knew. That process, and its outcome, is powerful, Coach. I think—I hope—you know that. When an adult takes the time to share his knowledge with a child who is receptive, what he is showing is respect. What the child learns from this is that when he gives respect, he gets it, and the form that respect takes is sacred: it's the passing on of knowledge.

I don't really know what you think is going on when you talk about teaching, Coach, but that's what I think.

I am grateful for Mr. Davis.  Through his love of his subject, his passion for biology, and his thoughtfulness in passing that on, I became a better person, more engaged, more curious, and with the self-esteem, respect for knowledge, and critical tools to continue growing, developing, and following my interests.

Miss Cripe, Miss Fuller and Mrs. Landau: a trio of amazing, inspiring no-nonsense English teachers. All very demanding, with incredibly high expectations, they taught… you guessed it: English, Coach. And with passion and intensity they brought literature and poetry to life for me. And that love of literature and poetry has defined my life and given it meaning.

Mr. Feldman: who taught classical languages, and from whom I took classical Greek, Etymology, and Critical Thinking, and from whom I learned... Classical Greek, Etymology, and Critical Thinking. How cool is that?

The list goes on and on and on, music teachers, art teachers, math teachers, swim coach. And the older I get the more in awe of these teachers I am. I knew very little about their lives outside the classroom. But they all taught their chosen subject with patience, compassion, warmth, humor, and humanity.

If these are values that are reinforced in a kid's home and community, as they were in mine, what you get is a kind of perfect storm. Kids who realize on some level that what they are getting is something big, parents who support teachers, teachers who guide kids to their goals, helping to hone their skills so that they can realistically be achieved.

What you get in other words is a community with a future.

Hopefully you're a Mr. Davis, or a Miss Fuller, Coach. And if you are, more power to you.

But: "I have never laid eyes upon a more misguided and depressing statement in all my life." Polease. You can’t bullshit the bullshitter, Coach.

4) The fellow who wrote the speech is twenty years old and is sorting out what it's all about. I don't expect him to have the answers at his age. But as he grows up and gains experience outside of Somerville, I expect he will begin to see that the crisis in his community does have to do with class.

I mention that here because I read it between the lines of some of the comments on the original post I've received, not least in phrases, however rightly or wrongly attributed, like "stupid punk townie."

My earliest memories are of our tiny house in a lower middle income neighborhood—though my first years were in an even tinier house on a naval base in North Carolina. My parents struggled to raise three sons in an environment that almost guaranteed we'd end up at best on the wrong side of the tracks, at worst on the wrong end of a gun.

When I was around nine, they made a decision to move based on the schools. Our new neighborhood was still working class, but in an area where classes and races mixed in the public schools. There's a lot about my parents that I value now that I had no understanding of then, of course. I did not know racism growing up, for one.

But class would become increasingly difficult to ignore.

Working class people often feel trapped, perceiving they have fewer options, resentful of a system that seems designed to shut them out. It's absolutely true that public education is the engine of class mobility in America. Unfortunately, public schools are not created equal. Somerville has far fewer resources than Newton, for example.

But there is also a culture of resignation, even complacency, in the former that you don't find in the latter. And it's not only in the schools, it's in families and communities. It's the atmosphere kids breathe. Families that demand more of their communities get communities that demand more of the families that make them up.

Coming from a working class family that was very active in my academic, sports, and religious life, I know firsthand that schools fail where families have failed. Why families fail is another huge issue.  See how complicated this is?

5) The bottom line—short of solving all the world's problems in a blog post—is that students with serious substance abuse or psychological issues SHOULD NOT BE IN THE CLASSROOM, period. We are not doing right by them or the students around them by keeping them there, and it may flatter your sentimental fancy to think that you're helping them out by insisting that they remain in an environment where they're not getting the professional help they really need, but the truth is you're not only hindering their progress, but the progress of all of your students.

Seems like you have a pretty high opinion of yourself, Coach Q., and I'm sure it's justified. But I'm not one of your colleagues in the staff room of whom you have a lower opinion.  I have done my time in the staff room and I know what it's like.  Nowadays I don't measure myself against anyone but myself, and how well I meet the needs of my students. 

As I said, whatever his difficulties, good for the kid in question that he found Just A Start, an organization which provided him with the kind of fruitful experience he clearly was not getting at Somerville High. I'm sure that if he hasn't gotten it already, he could easily manage his GED, and go to college if he wanted.

I think we should start taking substance abuse and mental health of children and teens much more seriously. I don't think teachers are qualified or should be forced by policy or budget constraints to try to "treat" children and teens struggling with substance abuse or mental health issues, as they are being forced to do today in many schools, where intervention is not an option, and the choice is between remaining and disrupting or dropping out.

Teachers should not—cannot—be expected to provide mental health treatment. Schools should have more resources for this specific purpose, more personnel trained for this specific purpose, and their services readily and abundantly available to at-risk students (and teachers).

6) FYI, Coach: I'm actually about an 8.5/10 on The Niceness Scale. Assuming that someone is not nice because they're not nice to you is a little like assuming someone you had lousy sex with has lousy sex with everyone. It really might just be you.

7) And, finally, these are my abs:


That's all I can think of at the moment. Keep fighting the good fight, Coach Q.!
_________________________________
*I have since received others (I've apparently been linked to by some bulletin board or discussion group visited by Somerville's finest), which I've chosen not to post because they simply reiterate some of the points in Coach Q's with the occasional addition of eloquent and subtle turns of phrase like: "The problem is teachers like you who could care less about kids in need and just want an easy job." And: "You made some rude horrible assumptions and judgments about kids you never met, who have a life you never lived. So maybe you shouldn't speak on it thank you." Which, well, back atcha.

But you get the idea.

It is a little unusual though certainly not unheard of for me to bounce comments—I'm actually more than happy to post other points of view, but even with an 8.5 on the niceness scale, I must concede on the evidence of the comments I've received that Somerville definitely has an education crisis on its hands.

**You now have forty-eight hours to either produce your own set of abdominals and have them judged against mine, or surrender unconditionally.