Censoring A Book Should Be A Crime

Posted on by April 12, 2016
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Mamacita says:  I despise cowardly adults and their attempts to censor everything they personally disagree with.

Censorship. Forbidden books. Cowards walk among us.

Censorship. Forbidden books. Cowards walk among us.

All of us should be able to restrict what comes into our own homes, of course.  All of us have that right, in fact.

However, when we step outside our own doors, we encounter all kinds of things, and if we don’t have the skills and knowledge to take the world in context, we are a sorry lot indeed.  Sorry, and un-American.  That’s a pretty strong statement, but I’m not backing down.

Our nation was founded on courage and rebellion. Censors have neither; they are cowards.

Our nation was founded on courage and rebellion. Censors have neither; they are cowards.

A sorry lot.  That’s a really good way to describe people who censor and restrict what other people are exposed to because those people have personal beliefs that should rule the world.  Which they don’t and which they shouldn’t.

What are book-censors afraid of?  That their children will read a book and ask a question their parents don’t know the answer to?

Here’s where I repeat the thesis statement of this post.

Honestly, if a child’s question is going to topple the beliefs of your household, maybe you should step back and examine those beliefs.  That is, if your preacher will allow it.  I believe in this statement so completely that I will say it again at the end of this post.

Censors are frightened, cowardly people.

Censors are frightened, cowardly people.

Of course, adults are right to fear a word in a book, although not, as in this instance, because it names a body part. They are right in the implied assumption that books have enormous power and influence. Children who read widely understand more about the world; they have a
foundation for making better decisions. They think, and because of that, they may even challenge their parents’ beliefs. For some, a scary idea, but isn’t a thinking child preferable to one who accepts the world at face value and has no aim to change it for the better?  -Susan Patron, ‘Scrotum’ as a Children’s Literary Tool, Feb 27, 2007.

Have I ever mentioned before how much I despise censorship and chicken-hearted, close-minded parents?

No sense of context, no ability to evaluate, no courage, no discernment. Pathetic.

No sense of context, no ability to evaluate, no courage, no discernment. Pathetic.

And by the way, I read every book before I pass judgement on it, unlike many people who base their literary opinions on what their brother’s next-door neighbor’s pastor (who didn’t read it either) said about it in the pulpit.

Books must be read before opinions can be made, and especially before opinions can be intelligently voiced. I think sometimes that so many people form opinions about a book without reading it themselves, because they’re afraid the book might actually make them think.

Such people don’t think much, and any kind of new exercise will hurt at first.  Discernment is a skill that censors chose not to hone.  A flabby brain doesn’t think much.

Censorship is an action of the ignorant.

Censorship is an action of the ignorant.

Don’t EVER accept anyone’s statements about a book unless that person has read the book themselves. And don’t say anything about it yourself until YOU have read the book yourself.

Nothing you say will have any credibility if you haven’t read the book.

“I don’t have to read it; I heard what it’s about and it’s TERRIBLE!!”

This attitude makes me tired. This argument isn’t viable.  If your belief system is so shaky that a book can topple it, maybe you’d better step back and take a good long look at your belief system.

Until you actually read the book, whichever book you’re currently horrified about, don’t talk to me about it. I don’t care what you have to say because you’re an idiot, a parrot, an echo. You have no intellect of your own.

Censors fear the world. This is cowardice.

Censors fear the world. This is cowardice.

After you’re read it, come talk to me. I love to talk about books.

Absolutely true.

Absolutely true.

In your own home, you have authority and can dictate what is and what is not allowed.  Outside your own door, you are not in charge.  No, you are not.  People with discernment have no fear of the world.  People without this very important skill are scared of everything.

On a related note:  I don’t really trust people who haven’t read the Harry Potter series.  If these people won’t allow their kids to read Harry Potter, I don’t like them much, either.

Bring it.

I Go To Conferences. Here’s Why.

Posted on by April 6, 2016
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Mamacita says:Because I do a lot of writing for various businesses, and because I become very attached to “my” businesses, and because it’s extremely important to me to do a better-than-average job for them, I go to a lot of conferences.  My clients trust me, and I want to do a GREAT job for them.

This is one reason why I go to so many conferences.  At each conference, I learn something, and often many things, that will enable me to do a better job for my businesses.

The Master Teacher Steve Spangler and me, at Science in the Rockies

The Master Teacher Steve Spangler and me, at Science in the Rockies – an awesome conference!

 

 

Steve Spangler Science

Steve Spangler Science

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No one conference can do it all.  Some conferences specialize in networking; others focus on the tech aspect.  Some are more “social” than anything else.  Some are mostly opportunities for brands to connect to people.  At all of  “my” conferences, I focus mainly on social media and connections, which, to me, are the most important of all.  Remember, though, that I write about different things for different kinds of businesses, and I perform all kinds of services for my businesses; it’s just that social media and connections are what I focus on.  Don’t forget that nobody can possibly know everything about anything!  However, I strive daily to learn more and more about things I can do for my clients.

I’m leaving for The Combine tomorrow morning, and later this summer I plan to attend MixWest. These are both smallish conferences, but don’t ever judge a conference by its numbers!  These two are among the very best conferences out there, hands down.

The Combine

Excellent conference:  The Combine

MixWest

Excellent conference: MixWest

 

 

 

 

 

My briefcase is packed and ready, my alarm is set, and my email is full of messages about social media and connections.  My clients are so interested, and I’ve got a sweater laid out because conferences are almost always cold.  Or maybe it’s just that I’m so full of anticipation that I get shivery at the prospects – I’ve gone to conferences for years now and I still don’t know for sure.

Have all conferences been a rousing success for me?  Interesting question.  I have learned something supremely important at every conference I’ve ever attended, so yes.  I’d call that a rousing success.  Social media is what I was born to do, even though it didn’t exist when I was born, and nobody ever knows enough about anything, let alone a business that changes every week.  A good social media liaison has to keep current, and a conference, full of experts and learners, is an excellent way to do that.

Panels of experts await!

Panels of experts await!

As for those emails, and all the emails that will be waiting for me after the conference:  I will answer every one of them, except the ones from that persistent Nigerian prince who wants me to cash a check for him in return for half of it.  It might even be that one of those emails will inspire me to do even more for my businesses!

That’s the thing about my clients, you see.  Each client I’ve ever had as been uniquely special to me.  I’ve learned more while researching and writing for these companies than I learned in all the years of grad school, in fact.  No university degree has ever represented as much hard work and actual knowledge than the research and learning necessary to work in social media.  Remember: it’s not possible to write knowledgeably about a business, or anything else, unless one knows a considerable lot about that business.  I use my clients’ products and services, and I like them.  If I did not, I would not be able to represent them.  When my clients profit because of my contribution, it’s a matter of great pride and thankfulness to me.

One of my favorite clients!

One of my favorite clients!

Freight, shipping, insurance, hospitals, digital signage, funerals, furniture,  foods of all kinds, makeup, shoes, tattoo removal, yearbooks, counseling, plastic surgery, death, dying, marriage, children, parenting, teaching, crafts, toys, movies, pepper jelly, BBQ sauce, grilling, sewing, science, education, writing. . . and these are just the tip of my social media experience iceberg.  If I majored in any one of these topics at college, I couldn’t have learned half as much as I learned in representing and writing for these businesses.

Sometimes I go to a conference to be a presenter; sometimes I go to a conference to be a learner.  Either way, however, I learn.  If one goes to a conference and pays attention at all, there will be learning.  Ohhhh, yes.

That's me on the far left, at BlogHer 2011. What a blast!

That’s me on the far left, at BlogHer 2011. What a blast!

Excellent conference: BlogHer

Excellent conference: BlogHer

 

 

 

 

As for this summer’s conferences on my calendar, I know that I shall meet some of the most awesome, knowledgeable people, learn an amazing lot of useful, fascinating things, and have a fantastic time.

I hope to see some of YOU there.  That would be bloody awesome.

 

Dandelions, Wishes, and Fairies, Oh My

Posted on by April 3, 2016
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Mamacita says:     I love dandelions. I will never understand why people will pay out the wazoo for lovely nursery-bred flowers to plant, and then pay out the wazoo for someone to kill the lovely golden blossoms that are already growing.

Dandelions: How are these not beautiful?

Dandelions: How are these not beautiful?

 

Is it because dandelions are so common, and grow so easily, that we take them for granted and prefer flowers that really aren’t all that much prettier but which are harder to grow, expensive,  and are a bit less common?  If dandelions weren’t sprinkled everywhere, turning plain green lawns into starry universes, common, easy, beloved by children, would they be more popular?

Whenever there are too many of pretty much anything, we tend to take them for granted and consider them less than first class.  Take a look at our overcrowded classrooms, for example.  But I digress.

If we examine each individual child flower, we will see that it is wondrously made, unique, adds to the quality of the universe, and is worthy of attention.

No florist’s creation will ever rival the Dixie cup with a few short-stemmed dandelions plunked down in it.

Nothing store-bought or paid-for will ever rival the dandelion even in its death, turned into a white fuzzy clock that will tell a child the time, according to the number of breaths it takes to blow all the fuzz away.  And, of course, FAIRIES love to ride on the soft, fluffy achenes, granting wishes right and left.  Every child knows that if you can blow ALL the achenes off with one breath, your wish will definitely come true.

How sad, to be a child without dandelions on the lawn, to have nothing but plain green landscaping that he can’t even play on because of all the chemicals, to have expensive blooms and blossoms that he can’t pick.  How sad the house containing children but no Dixie cups of short-stemmed dandelions all over the countertops.  My heart actually breaks over the thought of children living in a house where blowing dandelion clocks is forbidden, lest the seeds take root and ruin the “look.”  No wishes or fairies dare come near such a domicile.  There’s a big difference between a house and a home, and to people like me, who believe firmly in fairies, wishes, and stubby little bouquets in paper cups, a house has a green, chemically-treated velvety lawn, and a home has grass, sprinkled with tiny golden stars.  And, if the children are especially lucky, lots of little purple violets, as well.

Dandelion clocks and wishes and fairies, oh my

Dandelion clocks and wishes and fairies, oh my

I believe that dandelions are flowers, in the same way that those expensive hybrid roses are flowers, and every bit as beautiful, especially when they’re thrust in our face by a grubby little child, put in a Dixie cup, and placed where everybody can see and admire them.

Dandelions represent summer, and childhood, and the love of a little girl or boy for a parent, and a Dixie cup of stubby dandelions means more to me than anything delivered by the florist’s truck.

Put that Dixie cup on the coffee table between two cereal bowls containing floating periwinkle blossoms and catalpa blooms, and House Beautiful can go blow.  I prefer the individual touch when it comes to home decor.

I also welcome the fairies.  Heaven knows I can use all the wishes I can get.

What’s that?  You’re afraid of the bees?  Sissy.

 

Bread and Butter and Sharp Knives and ISTEP

Posted on by April 3, 2016
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Mamacita says: I used to cook and make butter with my students.  I am reminded of those days whenever I run into former students from that class.

A while back, I ran into one of those former middle school student at Kroger’s.  I recognized him right away, in spite of the beard, the wife, and the three little kids, but for the first time, I couldn’t remember a student’s name. This concerns me.

My mind’s eye could see him with the years stripped away, and I could remember where he sat and who sat on either side of him. I could remember things he did and said in class, and I could remember his handwriting and where he liked to sit in the cafeteria. I couldn’t, however, remember his name.

He said to me, “I bet you don’t remember me!” And I replied, “Of COURSE I remember you.” Because I did, even if his name was gone from my brain.

He said to me, “I will always remember that one thing we did in your class.”

I replied, “And which thing is that?”

“Remember when you read that olden-days book to us and they were always eating and making stuff from scratch, and you taught us how to make stuff? What I remember most was the butter. My kids and I love to make butter, just like you showed us in 8th grade.”

Homemade butter

Homemade butter

The book was Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Farmer Boy. It was perfect for a low-ability class of 37 14-to-17 year old students, all boys, who hated reading and honestly couldn’t see any connection between something in a book and the outdoors/ hunting/farming/mechanic/taxidermy/4H/cattle-raising lives most of them were already considered experts in.

Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

It was English class, but we cooked, and we whittled (GASP, how politically INCORRECT!) and we made sourdough starter and later we made bread with it, and we made pies and jerky and boiled candy (it’s just fudge or taffy) and jam. And about once a week, we made butter to go with our bread. I had a glass churn, but that was too complicated so we poured the cream into a big Tupperware thing and passed it all around the class and the boys shook it while listening to me read. I would read until the butter ‘came,’ and then the boys sprang into action. They poured off the buttermilk and squeezed the butter until it stopped weeping. They sprinkled just a little salt into the butter and kneaded it in. Then they all washed their hands and whoever’s turn it was that day sliced the bread and they all put napkins in their shirt collars and tucked in. We used KNIVES to slice the bread and to spread the butter. Heavens to BETSY.

I let my students wield a big bread knife!

I let my students wield a big bread knife!

I know that many of them were enthusiastic about this book because of the food, and they loved the food because all teenage boys love food, and also because these particular teenage boys were seriously hungry.

I loved those Laura Ingalls Wilder units. Other teachers criticized them because watching sourdough rise, and making butter, weren’t proper English lessons.

I maintained, and I still maintain, that anything we as teachers or parents do that makes learning come alive is a proper English lesson. Science lesson. History lesson. Math lesson. Life lesson.

I was sad when the principal forbade me to do this kind of thing any more. There really wasn’t time, anyway, what with all the ISTEP prep the boys needed to do. That was more important in the long run, right?

"Make your mark heavy and dark." Might as well have the game as the name.

“Make your mark heavy and dark.” Might as well have the game as the name.

I ran into a grown man in a store yesterday who remembered those lessons and did them with his own children.

I’m sure he remembers and does the lessons required for ISTEP, too.

But I know for a fact that he remembers the butter.

You Have Schema

Posted on by March 15, 2016
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Mamacita says:  It’s all about schema, you know.  Why stay in the box, all cramped and restricted and crowded with boring people, when it’s so much more fun to live OUTSIDE of the box?  Nobody who chose to live inside the box has ever changed the universe in any noticeable way.

. . . except for THIS box. This box is larger on the inside.

. . . except for THIS box. This box is larger on the inside, and its occupant has changed the universe in many ways..

Sing.  Dance.  Write poems and stories and plays and songs.  Draw.  Sculpt. Discover things.  Connect things.  Remember, everything is connected to everything else, and one of education’s jobs is to help students connect the dots.  There is nothing in the universe that you don’t know something about; my students probably know this entire speech by heart.  🙂  Schema.  Prior knowledge.  You have schema about everything.

Seriously.  Everything.

Well, it’s true.  You might not know enough to land the space shuttle, but if you can spell it, you know SOMETHING about it.  Can you perform delicate and complicated brain surgery?  Probably not, but you know where the brain is located; therefore, you have schema you can bring to the table about brain surgery.  Never underestimate yourself.  You know things.  You can do things.  And you have a story to tell that nobody else can tell.  Nobody knows it but you.

Who cares what the rest of the world thinks? Be yourself.  Nobody else can do it.

You have a message for the universe that only you can deliver.  Don’t let the world inhibit you.  Don’t let anybody talk you into keeping your message to yourself.

Naturally, if you’re an evil psychotic axe murdering terrorist or a deliberately annoying prick who likes to shoot, steal, pester, disrupt, or otherwise annoy others in both deadly and non-deadly ways, keeping them from their rightful participation in the celestial dance, this does not apply to you. I include people who get off on tickling someone until they cry in this category.

Behave yourselves.  Contribute.  We need you more than you could ever know, but unless you control yourselves and do what you were born to do, nobody will want to hear your message.

Remember who’s talking here.  🙂

The Rights of the Bully Should NEVER Be Trump!

Posted on by March 13, 2016
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Mamacita says: So many of the teachers I’ve spoken to lately are frustrated almost beyond words by their schools’ insistence that they keep disruptive, non-participatory, and often violent students and bullies in their classrooms, to the severe detriment of the other children.

Badly behaved students should not trump the other children or the teacher!

Bullies should not trump the other children or the teacher!

All students have a right to be educated in their least restrictive environment. How can this be possible if there are students in the classroom whose sole purpose in life seems to be to prevent other students from possibly learning something?  Bullies should never have more rights than their victims.  Bullies don’t deserve as many rights.

When a child goes home at the end of almost every day scratched, bruised, pinched, frustrated, and crying because once again “that same kid” tormented him/her, swiped the pencils, broke the scissors, yelled out, distracted, pulled the hair, marked on the paper, constantly poked, stole the lunch, chased, teased, and in any other way prevented a child from having a relaxed-yet-exciting, unimpeded, nurturing, SAFE environment in which he/she might learn and excel and advance upward and onward and feel absolutely safe and nothing is ever done to the perpetrator, who is allowed to pretty much rule the school with such behaviors, I call it bullying and I refuse to accept any other label for it.  Why do we continue to allow bullies to exist in our classrooms?  It makes no sense.  Bullies exist because they’re allowed to exist.  Stop allowing it and the behavior will stop, at least in the classroom.

Administrators who require teachers to put up with these behaviors and give teachers no support when these kids become insistently uncooperative (that’s a euphemism, by the way), teachers who fail to protect their students from these behaviors, parents who expect the school to deal with their child’s behaviors in such a way that their child is never responsible, and the child himself/herself who continues to torture other children or in any way put up an obstacle to their success. . . these are all bullies, too. And our good, polite, hard-working, creative kids who WANT to learn and advance have to sit there and wait, and be pinched and robbed and interrupted and teased, etc., and wait some more, most often never getting to advance because they’re still waiting on the other kids, whose behaviors and needs are seen as more important. . . .

Bullying isn’t only on the playground or the internet. Any time Susie can’t learn, advance, concentrate, or sit in peace and be allowed to work because of Billy’s behavior, Billy is a bully and Susie is a victim and the adult in the room is the enabler and the administration is Dolores Umbridge. Why, then, is Billy soothed, placated, rewarded, and continued to be allowed to sit near Susie and torment her? And why is nobody outraged that Susie is being held back, harassed, bothered, and hindered from learning?

I’m outraged. You should be, too.

But nobody does anything about it because Billy is apparently more important than Susie.

And Dolores Umbridge doesn’t WANT our children to learn, advance, and soar because that makes them more difficult to bully, herself.

Bah.

When are we going to grow a pair and demand that our schools become once again what they were intended to be: places where those who wish to learn might learn? At the rate we’re going these days, the answer is “never.”

Shame on us. Shame on anyone and everyone responsible.