All of we humans make mistakes. We have great days, good days, and some days that are variations of not so good. We preach the mantra that all children are different; they have individual strengths and weaknesses. They have a variety of learning styles: visual, auditory, kinesthetic, and reading/writing.They learn at different speeds–just like some toddlers learn to walk before others. Given these proven facts, how can we expect every child to score in an acceptable range on ONE test for ALL children. Absurd.

Research experts remind us that tests must be both reliable and valid. Reliability and validity can not be determined in one or two years. It’s a long, arduous study over time. For example, if a third grader takes the Arizona State test, he must continue to take the same progressive version of that test through 12th grade to prove/disprove academic growth over time. However, the glitch occurs if midway through a child’s schooling the test is changed from one manufacturer to another. Due to this change the scores can not be compared or be said to be both reliable and valid. Absurd to suggest otherwise.

Finally, test questions can have more than one right answer, depending on one’s perspective and/or experience. For example, what is the shortest month of the year? While most of us would immediately say February, to some the answer is May. The question is far too vague to have one correct answer. Imagine three pictures: a plant growing in a pot, a cactus abloom in the desert, and a head of cabbage. The question is: which one takes the least water? Now, some would argue a cactus, while students from a farming background would easily know it was the head of cabbage. Which one is the right answer? Absurd.

High stakes testing should be merely one indicator of a child’s progress. By no means should it be the only indicator–absurd.

In 1978, Kenny Rogers released The Gambler, a song written two years earlier and recorded by several artists, including Johnny Cash. But it’s the Rogers rendition that’s been stuck in my brain this week. Early one morning, I awoke in one of those slightly dreamy states and thought about my age. Most of the time, I suppress thoughts of how old I am, but the more my knees creak and arthritis cramps my fingers, I know it’s age. Oh, and if I look in the mirror, I’ve no recognition of the face staring back!

One thing I’ve learned in the last few years is I need to learn when to hold and when to fold. I quickly found certain decisions were easier than others. I retired from the school board, I began accepting senior discounts at the grocery store. Prior to that, I had considered discounts as a form of stealing from young families and giving it to those who had adequate financial stability.

Then came my realization about ladders. Trying to change the burned out light bulbs on my 12′ ceiling fixtures became far too much of a stretch to reach. Next, I noticed my incompetency at cleaning my casa: I’d miss dusting part of the coffee table, the mirrors would have random water spots, and the windows were streaked. I attributed my shortcomings to needing new glasses. But my final insult, was the swimming pool, which I had religiously mastered its chemistry years ago. Mustard alga appeared in abundance, the pool cleaner failed to travel around, and the filter baskets were clogged with debris from the enormous amount of bad weather in the last two months. So three weeks ago, I undertook the task of pool maintenance. Everything was going “swimmingly,” until….

I flopped into the 45-degree water. That was it! Time to make some changes around here! And with that, I hired a pool service, cleaning crew, and a handyman. (I had already hired a landscaper after a previous incident when the weed whacker tossed a stone into my right leg.)

I suspect my next stop on this journey called aging is eventually hiring a cook, laundress, and caregiver. The trick is learning when to fold. A surgeon friend of mine counseled, “Sue, I hope I know when to retire–one surgery before I should have.”

“You’re so right, Dr. B. I, too, hope I know when.”

The war on public education continues. This week it was the statue of David at the center of controversy and the story of Ruby Bridges, the first African-American child to desegregate an all-white elementary school in Louisiana. I am forever grateful I went to public schools where the teachers taught me to be a culturally literate human. Do these ranters understand the significance of the Renaissance and Michelangelo’s interpretation of the slayer of Goliath? Depicted as defense of civil liberties embodied in Florence, which was threatened on all sides by more powerful states, David’s eyes were turned toward Rome with threatening glare in defiance. It took Michelangelo 4 years to create the 17-foot marble statue that unveiled in 1504. Now, 519 years later, some have decided it is inappropriate.

In the mid-1980’s E.D. Hirsch coined the term cultural literacy. “To be culturally literate is to possess the basic information needed to thrive in the modern world.” He was quick to note it was not limited to the arts, but to all information, “extending over the major domains of human activity from sports to science.” Further, Hirsch was adamant cultural literacy could break the cycle of the poor an illiterate. His views culminated in creation of the Core Knowledge program utilized in many urban, rural, and suburban schools across the country. Due to its insistence on mastery of common understandings about history, geography, language arts, and science, students in Core Knowledge programs tended to outscore the rest on college entrance exams. The statue of David and Ruby Bridges are part of that curriculum, as well as the slave trade, the assassination of Lincoln, and Sodom and Gomorrah.

To dictate to an entire generation what they can read and learn is dangerous, for they are doomed to not only make the mistakes of the past, but will be automatons, robots, who will be unable to see solutions to issues as they arise. Creative thought and critical thinking will go by the wayside.

I realize how fortunate I was to have a well-rounded, rigorous education. I saw David’s statue and read Catcher in the Rye, Moll Flanders, and To Kill o Mockingbird, and survived. I’ve seen the Broadway plays, such as The Full Monty, Hair, Cabaret, and Hairspray and survived. I learned about evolution and the Big Bang Theory and survived. But the most poignant quote I memorized was by Thomas Jefferson: For nation to be ignorant and free, it expects what never was and never will be.

Certainly, in our complex world, there are a myriad of things I don’t understand: war, hatred, and astrophysics to name a few. I could rage on about 100’s of issues, but my angst would only send me to an earlier grave than the one I’ve been digging. So, I shall share my top four.

First, is math. From the time I was a child I struggled with arithmetic. Adding columns of numbers drove me mad. Then followed multiplication and division. When I advanced to algebra and geometry that was the end! Really, the alphabet replaced numbers? And to this day, I’ve never got a grocery receipt with x squared, minus 2 b on it. Nor do I care about parallelograms, nor the circumference of a circle. I’ve never even balanced my checkbook. Why should i? I have checks; therefore, I must have money.

Secondly, even though I was an English major and read and write a lot, I don’t understand written instructions for any high-tech, electronic device. I swear those instructions are written in a foreign language and loosely translated into English. It would help if there was a picture of part A that’s to be attached to part E. But no, I’m left to guess. When my frustration peaks, I must resort to calling one of my tech savvy kids to tell me what to do. Once they bought me an Apple watch for my birthday; I couldn’t make it work. I had to wait until we were together at Christmas to use it.

Thirdly, QAnon conspiracy theorists. How can any rational person who graduated from high school believe their absurdity? One pundit explained it as Scientology for hillbillies. Still, my mother was born in the South; she was a Tennessee hillbilly, but I never heard her say Elvis was alive nor Democrats eat babies.

But the thing that mystifies me the most is the dramatic change in the Republican Party. When I think of Lincoln, Eisenhower, and even the Bushes, I think of equality and equity. Modern day Republicans have morphed into Joe McCarthys; their platform focuses on banning books, rewriting history books, and closing down drag shows. Hello? America has far more important and critical issues than any one of those. Let’s talk about climate change, homeless folks, hunger, infrastructure, and labor shortages. Let’s talk about healthcare and prescription drug costs, and high interest rates. Let’s talk about transportation and international relations.

True, there are many things I’ll never understand. I try not to dwell on my shortcomings that frustrate me. But that’s easier said than done.

Last summer when I began to write The Academy, I was writing fiction. Certainly, many of the characters were modeled after my personal experiences. (One can’t have a 50-year career in public education and not be affected by students. staff, and parents.) Of course, I took great liberty with poetic license to enhance and speculate about each of the players. But since my book published my fictitious story continues to play out in reality.

What an eerie feeling for me, as I follow a court case in a western state court on monetary kickbacks to school administrators and their families. Further, now the FBI is investigating the role of overseas threats of violence to American public schools, colleges, and universities. This ongoing investigation has identified 250 colleges, 100 high schools, and several junior high schools since early June falsely threatening explosive devices or an imminent school shooting. Corroboration of a product of my imagination is most overwhelming!

Please know, my intent had nothing to do with money. Yes, The Academy is available on Amazon, and yes, I get $1.00 and some change royalty, but my intent was solely to advance the conversation about outsiders creating chaos through random mass massacres in the US and the issue of gun control. I’m not prodding you to read my book, but ask yourself one question: In Uvalde, Texas last May, an 18-year-old high school, unemployed dropout entered Robb Elementary School and executed 19 children and 2 teachers. The shooter, Salvador Ramos, was driving a brand new $70,000 truck, wore $5,000 in tactical gear, and carried over $5,000 worth of artillery and ammunition. Where did he get the money?

In celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday on March 2 yesterday, I’m updating and reprising this blog I wrote last year. Not because I’m lazy–but because nothing has gotten any better in the era of blaming and trashing public education for all of the world’s problems. In short, things just get worser and worser!

Thanks to my fifth grade teacher, I learned to memorize the required weekly poem. Thus, when my freshman drama teacher handed me a copy of Horton Hatches the Egg, it was easy to memorize the story. In high school, I competed in speech contests with Horton, and he became so ingrained in me that I continued my performances for the last 59 years. By my unembellished, estimates, I’ve performed for over 7,000 children in Ohio, Texas, North Carolina, Colorado, and Arizona and relished every minute. Further, I truly enjoyed the Q and A afterwards, where they ask me about the character voices, the plot, and random things, like “can you come to my birthday party.”

COVID ended my in-school student performances, but I was prepared to offer them again this year. Though I’d drafted the email to local elementary teachers announcing my availability, reality set in. Nothing has changed; the far right continues to vilify Dr. Seuss. His books have been stripped from teachers’ shelves and from school libraries. The result of my performance in the second grade could very well ignite a maelstrom. After all, Horton is a guy elephant, who sits on a runaway mother’s egg until it hatches. The result is an elephant bird! Oh, ye gods! Talk about controversy. Certainly, an LGBTQ book, a pro-evolution book, a book that celebrates diversity, equity, and inclusion. Oh, not to mention values, like fidelity and honesty.

I regret I no longer perform Horton for children. It’s not about me; I could care less about me. I would never want to bring undue criticism to a teacher, an elementary school, a school district, nor to a public school board meeting. Lord knows public schools are bashed enough!

Now, Alice talked about curiouser and curioser, but I prefer weirder and weirder. With all of the problems in our world, the last thing we should be worried about is Dr. Seuss!

Consider the word, crazy. Did you ever notice what sits in its middle? AZ. ‘Nuff said.

I was telling my friend about me picking up the wrong dog last week from the groomer. She laughed, “Sue, I can tell you a better true story than that one.”

Since I consider myself a good storyteller, I doubted her veracity. “Have at it, Cathy. Let me hear it.”

“As you know, we had to move my mom in with us due to her health challenges. However, she had adopted a male, neutered cat about eight months ago, which we couldn’t house due to allergies. My eldest daughter moved into my Mom’s to tend to her cat. Last week my kid called me hysterically screaming, ‘Mom, there’s something wrong with grandma’s cat!'”

Oh my. This is awful, I thought.

Cathy continued, “My kid yells ‘there’s a kitten coming out of his hind end! What should I do? Pull it out?’ No. I’ll be right over.”

When Cathy arrived, the neutered male had delivered three black and orange kittens. “I searched through my Mom’s desk and found the adoption papers. Indeed my mom had adopted a neutered male, which obviously was not a neutered male. I called the animal shelter.

“Get a load of this, Sue. The gal who answered the phone asked: ‘Did your cat get out?’ WTH? What difference did that make? My mom allegedly adopted a HE, who morphed into a SHE with three offspring!”

I was laughing so hard tears ran down my cheeks. “So what is your recourse, Cathy? You gonna sue the animal shelter?”

Cathy scowled. “No, but I’m making them spay my mom’s cat and take in the three kittens for adoption when they’re weened. You know, I felt bad, for my mom was adamant she’d adopted a male. I doubted her; I thought she was losing her mind.”

Isn’t it rich why people automatically assume people over 75 have lost their minds? Nikki Haley, 2024 Presidential candidate, insists that those over 75 have to take mental competency tests to run for political office. What will be next? Voting tests, driver’s tests? And a myriad of others. Not all of we seniors are as mentally challenged as George Santos, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Laura Boebert, or Anna Luna. We still know male, neutered cats don’t have kittens!

The following is a true story; no names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Yesterday, I took my year-old mini Goldendoodle, Harper, to the groomer. She was such a mess of tangles and dreadlocks the groomer said, “Sue, I’m going to have to buzz cut her.” Of course, I agreed as I’d been unable to brush the matted hair for several weeks.

Two hours later, a new employee called me to pick up Harper. The young clerk was in a panic when I entered the dog salon. Groomed pups of all shapes and sizes were anxiously awaiting their owners and barking so loudly it was hard to hear. “Stop barking!” he yelled, but no dog obeyed. “Which one of these is yours?”

“The blond one.” I paid the bill and attempted to lift Harper up. Damn, she was heavy; she must have eaten a lot of treats today.

“Do you need me to carry her to the car?”

“Sure. Thank you.” He put her in the back seat and the dog laid down. Hmm. I found it rather curious, Harper’s a hyped gal; maybe she’s tired after her spa adventure. Once inside my garage, I opened the back door and looked. The dog’s eyes looked different–yellow and teary. “Oh, shit! I must be losing it. WTH? I don’t even know my own dog? My kids are going to lock me up for sure! For god’s sake, don’t tell them.”

Surprisingly, when we entered the house, the rest of my pack was delighted to see their sister. Until….

Their alleged sister lifted his leg and marked my refrigerator, the wastebasket, sofa, and fireplace! OMG! I was living Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper; I was starring in The Parent Trap or The Princess Switch.

I immediately returned to the grooming salon where I was met by Sprocket’s owner and the clerk. “I can’t believe this happened; I’m so sorry about this mix up,” the clerk whined. “It’s never happened before.”

Both Sprocket’s owner and I made light of the situation, as I scooped up Harper and put her in the car. On our short ride home, I laughed and laughed. I wasn’t upset about the switch, I wasn’t dismayed by Sprocket’s markings of my belongings. I rejoiced! I haven’t lost my mind…yet!

As a high school English teacher, how could I be anything else? Allow me, to list a few classics that have been banned: Uncle Tom’s Cabin, for its pro abolishionist agenda. Huckleberry Finn, for its “coarse language”–not swear words (Mrs. Clemens edited those out, but for slang coarse words. Of Mice and Men, for using the Lord’s name in vain, morbid depressing themes, and alleged anti-business attitudes. The Catcher in the Rye, for being obscene, with vulgar language, sexual scenes, and moral issues.The list could go on to include The Great Gatsby, The Grapes of Wrath, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Color Purple, and a number of Dr. Seuss children’s books. In addition to literature, history, science, and math books are being censored and rewritten to correct their inaccuracies. Really? We don’t like the outcome of that war or the result of that law, we will just change the narrative? Imagine our children learning that some of the US Presidents had clay feet!

However, the ultra-right is marching ahead in its continued attacks. Their newest bane is LGBTQ and drag shows. In the Arizona legislature a number of bills (SB 1698, SB 1026, and SB1030) are aimed at protecting children from drag performances. In fact, SB 1698 would criminalize anyone who exposes a child to such a performance–a Class Four Felony, punishable by up to fifteen years in prison, and automatic registration as a sex offender. Now this would certainly be laughable if it wasn’t true. Consider these: Tootsie, Mrs. Doubtfire, Yentl, Mulan, Hairspray, M.A.S.H. , Victor Victoria. Everyone of these productions has a drag character. In fact in Shakespearean times, all female roles were played by male actors. Yet when the ultra-right darling, Kari Lake, ran for governor last fall she had been known to invite drag queens to perform at parties. where her children were present.

So, even though the legislature touts educational choice and parent empowerment, they want to prosecute/persecute parents for taking their child to see Mrs. Doubtfire? Talk about speaking out of both sides of their mouths under the guise of protecting children.

If the ultra-right was truly committed to protecting children, they would outlaw the sale of AR-15’s and other “spray and slay” weapons. They would adequately fund the public schools, instead of supporting wealthy privates. They would enhance the Department of Children’s Services to ensure kids live in a safe environment. Yes, I know. These are taboos for the ultra-right. They would much rather declare me a sex offender for taking my kids to see Hairspray. Have at it! We saw it in NYC.

Next up, watch for the ultra-right to severely restrict internet, cell phone and other forms of social media usage to protect us all.