What Sustains Me

 

Pulling out the individuality of a child, celebrating their uniqueness and encouraging their differences are what sustain me. 

For every unfair standardized test I’m expected to administer, there’s a child longing to be heard.  Talking to them after school and listening to their feelings or ideas makes the test preparation manageable.

For every overbearing parent (or absent guardian) who makes my day to day work sometimes feel negatively targeted, there’s a child who can express themselves during class (most commonly because they can’t express themselves at home).  I’m creating a safe and comforting space for them to be able to shine.

For every rude and insolent student that disrupts your lesson, and makes it their business to tell you how much you suck, there’s a child who is completely engaged, sitting in the back and soaking up every thing you’re saying.  You’re frustrated for a failed lesson, but what you don’t realize is that you couldn’t have failed, because there’s always the probability that someone was affected.  Someone learned something.  Someone’s brain has been stimulated.

For every frustrating idea or strategy that you try to teach but still, the students aren’t getting it, there’s a child who made a connection.  There’s a child who saw the light.  And you helped that happen.

My point is that there is a lot of heartache, frustration and high-strung emotional moments in the life of a teacher.  There are days when I almost feel depressed, questioning myself and my ability, wondering how I’ll make it through both the day and the year…

But then I interact with a child who has so much to say.  And the most rewarding part is when that kid is quiet or timid.  But lingers and asks questions and didn’t even realize that he or she had anything important to share.  As you spend more time teaching them though, they feel empowered.  And proud of themselves.  And able to express themselves to the point where their individuality is now something that they stand behind, instead of hide.

I don’t believe there’s anything more powerful or enriching than realizing that you matter.

~PEACE OUT FROM NTN

Same start, different ending.

These kinds of conversations happen in my class, inevitably, every year.  Sometimes it’s early on and sometimes it’s mid-year.  But sooner rather than later, my students get the schpeil of why we don’t say particular words: faggot, retard, the ‘n’ word.…and WHY.

Especially for ‘that’s so gay‘ and ‘that’s retarded,’ I give them the alternate, “Oh, you mean to say that’s so dumb, stupid, silly, ridiculous, or crazy.”

Some years have sparked debate, around why you can’t just say ‘that’s so gay‘ if you don’t mean it, or how their friends and family say the ‘n’ word, so it’s no big deal if they do it  as well…However, the debate that was sparked today in class was something I was not expecting.  Needless to stay, I let the tangent we got off on flyaway with discussion, argments and high emotions.  Oh, and I forgot to mention, with incredibly ignorant opinions.  And not like expected 12-year-olds comments of ignorance: but instead, baffling and misguided lines of speech, which were the majority.

Here’s how it started.

We read an article about bullying.  The non-fiction piece was about a girl who was bullied, who then turned the tables and started bullying people until she realized the wrongs of her ways and eventually changed.  The last part of the article posted a question and a poll: Should bullies be arrested — Yes or No.  We read both opinions and then started debating.  Kids took turns raising their hands, sharing that bullies should be arrested so that they can’t hurt people anymore.  Or that Bullies should not be arrested because they will only grow angrier in jail, come out, and bully even harder.  And then some kids were in the middle, sharing that there should be harsh consquences for bullies, but not prison.

And a popular opinion which sparked the now infamous debate of THISMORNING, was that there should be a spectrum and depending on how severe you’re bullying is, you should have to go to jail. (Ex. If someone curses at you or shoves you, that’s not prison worthy.  But Cyberbullying, constantly harassing or name-calling where one targets body image or race would definitely warrant a trip to jail).  Most kids seemed to agree with that last opinion.  This jumped into the ongoing stories which sadly keep popping up in the Media, about many kids who are so severely bullied, that they end up killing themselves.  We talked about how some people can’t take the constant harrassment and they feel that suicide is the only option.

One kid raised his hand and shared a story he had seen in the news, where a gay kid was being bullied just for being gay.  And that the harrassed kid ended up committing suicide.  That sparked another student to raise their hand and say, “Why are people bullied just for being gay.  It’s not like it’s their choice.”  That set another kid off to respond with, “Yes it is.  You choose to be gay.  It’s not like you’re born that way…”

WHOA WHOA WHOA…back the truck up.  What did the last kid say?  I asked him to repeat his opinion.  He said, without a doubt, that people choose to be gay.  I asked how many students agreed that you aren’t born gay, but it is, in fact, a choice.  More than half of the hands in the class went up!  Boy, did I have my work cut out for me over the next 45 minutes (and clearly throughout the school year).  I threw caution to the wind, ignored the remaining part of my lesson and started to faciliate a very raw conversation about opinion, feelings and facts.  I kept reiterating that students were allowed to have whatever opinion they wanted because that was their right.  And it was just my job to edcuate them as much as possible.

It was fascinating to watch the kids who were completely headstrung on homosexuality being curable or an unneeded choice, debate back and forth with the students who supported homosexuality being something that you’re born with.  Every so often I would try to share some information on people being born gay, and what tomboys are, and how there’s a aspectrum of sexuality.  Then a boy called out, “You’re wrong, Ms.! You’re wrong.  You choose to be gay and you are wrong.”
I replied with, “You can think what you want, Chase, but I’m not wrong.”
“What do you know, Ms.?”
“Well, I’m an adult and I’ve gone to many years of school and I’ve traveled the world, encountered all kinds of people, and had a plethora (class vocab word!) of experiences and I’m sharing with you what I know to be true,” I retorted.  [I bring up this student Chase, in order to refer back to him later]

I was excited about their fervor and respect to agree and disgaree with another, and then an explosion hit the conversation.

“But Ms., if two gay guys have a baby through an egg donor or something, that kid will be gay because he came from two gay fathers,” a kid shared out loud.
“Yeah, Ms.You can totally catch gay if you hang around with them too much,” another blurted out.

At this point I was baffled.  I knew my students had had a different upbringing.  And I was aware that some may not be as liberal as other people or children that I’ve encountered.  But you know, there’s a difference of opinion.  And then there’s just plain ignorance.

“Guys, you can’t turn gay.  It’s not like if you hang out with someone that’s gay for a couple weeks, that that likens your chances of being gay,” I offered up.

“Yeah it does, Ms. If you spend all your time and hours with a gay person, then you could turn gay from being with them.”

Again, still baffled.

I said, “If a girl hangs around with a boy and spends all of her time with him, she is not going to, herself, start being a boy.”

That turned some of the conversation around, actually.

“Oh, Ms., I get it. Like one can’t turn the other.”
“Yeah, cause you’re born gay.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Okay, that  makes sense.”

I mean, many of the  affirmative comments towards this topic were coming from students who had initially disbelieved that anyone could be born gay.

I think my shock came from the kids who actually thought you could catch being gay, as if it was a disease.  And sadly, many of their opinions are a result of their upbringing and their family influence.

“But if you’re born gay, why do some people only come out when they’re much older?” a student asked.

“Well, because sometimes people come from families or communities where they are start that being gay is wrong so they suppress and push away all their natural feelings. And that’s when they grow up and as adults, realize that it’s time to truly be who they are.”
“Oohhhh. Like they were too scared to say who they were, ” a kid said.
“That happened with Ricky Martin,” a student suggested….

I asked for hands in the air and then said, “Who knows somebody gay?  A friend, a family member, etc…”
Half of the hands went up.  Over the next day or two, go and ask that person if they feel they were born gay.
Some kid shouts out, “No, Ms!  That’s too personal!”
I go over to him and say, “Chace, do you like girls?  Do you like kissing girls?”
And he replies, “We’ll, yeah.”
“Right, because you were born liking girls.  So do you feel that was too personal of a question ?” I ask.
“Okay, I get it, ” Chace replies.

The conversation and debate peetered off even more into Bisexuality and Lady Gaga and how she sings about being Born This Way and why she supports gay people so much and if she’s a devil worshipper: “But Ms.! She sings about Judah!  That was Jesus’ enemy!”

By the end of class, there were only 3 students remaining, with the opinion that you choose to be gay and you’re not born that way.  A signicifant amount of kids had changed their initial opinion, through our class discussion.

Talk about powerful.

“I have an announcement,” Chace says out loud. “Ms. is right.  You are born gay.  Everything she said is true.”

And he meant it.  And he is one of the kids whose opinion was drastically different from the beginning of our conversation, to the end.

The point was not to change everyone’s opinion.  But instead, educate them, let them hear multiple sides and then come to their own conclusion.

4-5 separate kids came up to me at random points in the afternoon, to share that they liked how real our conversation was, and that it was important to do things like that.

Was it worth skipping the last part of my lesson?  Definitely.  That’s called being Effective.

~PEACE OUT FROM NTN

Old school vs. New school

When you battle old school versus new school, you are usually referring to old customs, habits or items versus newer ideas, technology, etc…

In my case, I’m ACTUALLY talking about my old school I worked for, versus the new school where I’ll be starting to teach tomorrow.

My first mention is that I’m starting school tomorrow – as in TOMORROW AUGUST 15th, a good 3 weeks or so before I would even be stepping back into my Old School building.  I’ve also had almost 2 weeks of prep, workshops, trainings, etc…That part I’m happy about.  New School certainly cares a bit more about their teachers and their effectiveness and wants them to feel prepared for Game Day.  Old School would welcome you for ONE WHOLE DAY before greeting children.  Cue anxiety.

Now New School still has me coated in anxiety.  There are so many rules.  There are so many standards to uphold.  There are so many students! (Not overall, just personally for me.  Old School had me teaching 3 classes and averaging around 90-100 kids.  I will be greeting 5 classes and averaging 150-180 students tomorrow at New School.)

I’m good at names so I’m actually stoked to figure that out and come up with nicknames and get into that swing.  It’s the structure of the school that has me shaking in nerves.  Yes I love challenges.  Yes I work well under pressure. But when a fundamental system is drastically different then the one you knew and used for five straight years, you start to doubt yourself; your ability; your effectiveness.  I hate that feeling.  I don’t do well doubting myself and my ability, especially when I love teaching and know that I’m damn good at it.

But it’s literally like retraining your brain.  From the little things like bell schedules and hours of teaching, to grades given, curriculum taught and assignments assessed — you have to learn it all over again.  My ability to be in front of a class of kids and engage them: I know that’ll still be there.  But I’m floundering in all other aspects.  And I have like t-Minus 18 hours  to snap out of this anxiety-ridden mode.

This is where I hesitate in front of New School and long for the days of Old School (albeit, a place where I was frustrated and not supported.  This is backwards thinking, folks!)

I have no option but to embrace the system and hold my head up high.  Because it’s not in my make-up to fail. Or at least to fail without trying, to be more accurate.  There’s just no worse feeling than that of ineptitude.  No even worse than feeling inept when you know how competent you actually are.  You have five years of experience to go off of: successful, trying, positive experience.

This is just what I can focus on and what I can recommend to anyone in a similar position.  It’s rare to stay at the same school for your entire career so this kind of change and comparisons of Old School versus New School are normal.  And I’m not the only one going through it.  So I will do my best to let the daunting feelings subside…and spend the day concentrating on kickass lesson plans.

~Peace out from NTN

New Season, New Kids

Summer vacation…sometimes it feels like it could last forever. Sometimes I wish that it would. Now, I am NOT one of those people who “gets bored.” I can’t even tell you about all the rumblings inside my school building during the first week back of, ‘Yeah, I was going stir crazy this summer. It’s great to be back!” What are you smoking?! Don’t get me wrong: I love meeting new kids, forming fresh new bonds, challenging myself with a whole new group of students, etc…. But let’s be honest, summer vacation is pretty fricken awesome. And as wonderful as a bunch of new faces can be, (mixed in with a well-rested teacher), it’s still mind-numbingly hard to get back into routine, to get your mind back into responsibility mode. So no more of “I get easily bored so it’s good to have something to do everyday, “blah blah blah… If you are someone who feels that way, I invite you into my head for even an evening and believe you me, you will NOT want to leave.

5 full days into this 2010 school year, I can already tell that I have a strong impression of my students. Thus far, I seem to have an eclectic group of strong personalities, which for me, is always the thing I hold out for. I can handle misbehavior. I can handle intolerance. Dare I say I can even handle bullying, even though it’s my number one battle. But boring personalities or the ultimate lack of creativity? COME ON. Give me SOMETHING TO WORK WITH! And I believe I’ve been dealt the latter this year. Thank God. So it seems that when I let my freak flag fly, they’ll be right along side me, raising theirs up as well.

One of the most interesting kids I’ve met thus far is Ellie. I met her during teacher day, before any students arrived for the first official day. Why was she in the building a day early, with her mother? Because she is a student with Autism. And her family wanted her to get situated with teachers and classrooms she’d be in, before 1000-plus students bombarded the building the next day. She was incredibly exuberant. She wanted to high-five me, and give me a rocks handshake and ask me a bajillion questions, which of course I was happy to comply with all of that. My immediate train of thought was that I would totally be able to handle Ellie in class because my very best friend Mia works with kids with Autism. Now that by no means makes me any kind of an expert, but it does give me a bit of insight into perhaps what’s going on with her and it did give me a kick of excitement.

The first few days, it was pretty normal. She has a personal teacher that travels to each class with her, a role that four different women play. That teacher helps with her immediate focus and execution of the work. I am constantly reminded by them and the Special Education assistant principal to treat Ellie like any other student. So that’s what I’ve been doing.

But she’s not like any other student. Her attention to detail is insane. Her need to know what exactly is going to happen next is demanding. And when she gets frustrated, the entire class knows about it. Now the same could be said for some other students in my class, though chances are that they just get a pissed off look on their face and perhaps put their head down, uninterested in doing the work. Not the case with Ellie. Something did not make sense to her during Friday’s class and she stood up and had a tantrum. There were some squeals, albeit quiet ones and she tugged at her hair a bit. Her personal teacher did not do much to diffuse the situation. Perhaps she’s used to it and what works best is letting Ellie cool down on her own. I was in the middle of a lesson so I continued to teach. And then I was left with my moral dilemma. I’m supposed to treat Ellie like any other student but if I saw another student freaking out, I would most likely go over to him or her or at least stop and say something. Yet I feel like attempting to address her meltdown (which may happen often) would draw unwanted attention, and force what I’m trying to avoid, separating her from my other kids. I don’t even know if my inner thinking is translating well right now.

I know this is a situation that I will eventually grow a lot more comfortable with (since it’s barely been a week) but I find that I’m constantly struggling with meeting her needs and treating her equally. I was recently informed that she is diagnosed with: Pervasive Developmental Disorder – Not Otherwise Specified, or PDD-NOS, for short, as a condition on the spectrum that has those with it exhibiting some, but not all, of the symptoms associated with classic autism. That can include difficulty socializing with others, repetitive behaviors, and heightened sensitivities to certain stimuli.

It looks as if I’m also experiencing heightened sensitivities. I’m definitely overthinking a lot, like constantly reminding myself to treat her “normally” as opposed to just, I guess, doing exactly that. Though I struggled on Friday when Ellie wanted to share a piece of her writing. She volunteered and I called on her. We were writing creatively, thus the topic/content could be about anything. She starts speaking and she’s created a story with multiple characters, sharing minute details about their lives, such as name, age, height, job, etc…She stutters a couple times but she does a great job at articulating and sharing her creative piece of writing. It’s day 5 and I’m proud, both of her story and her confidence. But I can’t help but notice some of the students snickering at her. Giggling when she trips up on a word or making faces at one another when she skips over some of her lines. Here’s my heightened sensitivity coming into play — of course I’m angry that such rudeness is taking place but then I think to myself, if I make a big deal about it, out loud in front of everyone, including Ellie, have I once again set her apart from her classmates and drawn attention and therefore, not treated her like all my other classmates? I try to calm, cool, and collectively, shoot each of the kids I see snickering, a look and a ‘shush’ motion, which translates into, ‘Start being respectful or else.’ Was that enough? Was she aware that some kids were seemingly making fun of her? How unfair! How dare those kids feel that they have the right to mock Ellie.

She is stronger and braver and filled with more confidence than half of the kids in the class. She was one of only 6 kids or so, willing to share their creative writing. I wonder if she feels confident. As the school year goes along, I look forward to talking to Ellie and getting to her know better. And I hope that as our teacher/student relationship grows, our heightened sensitivity matures together, opening up a gateway for questions and answers, that goes both ways.

~Peace out from NTN

p.s. Disclaimer: I call myself “Next To Normal,” or NTN for short, because that’s all we can hope for at the end of the day. Not to be perfect, not even to be normal. Just next to it.

Did that just happen?

As a teacher, have you every been absolutely mortified?
I mean completely embarrassed, where you find yourself screaming inside, “DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?!”

Something happened last week during school that made me feel like this.  It was before the day had started and some students were hanging around my door.  I was tired, lagging along, though not too different from most mornings.  I was holding my coffee cup (full to the brim, albeit, covered) in my left hand and had attempted to use my keys, which were in my right hand, to unlock the door.  Though one hand did not need the other to function in this situation, for some reason they must have collided.  In a very slow-motion-instant, the coffee cup jumped out of my hand, flipped in the air and fell directly on Alan.  I’m not talking a spill here, a splash there.  I’m talking cup-to-body contact and puddles of coffee EVERYWHERE.  I instantly SCREAMED, “AHHH!  HOT COFFEE!” I mean, that was my first thought.  I have covered one of my students in HOT COFFEE and he is going to be burned!  He immediately jumped up and amidst the laughter and howlings from his fellow classmates, the first thing he uttered was, “It’s not hot!”

OH MY GOD.  Thank the Lord that I have not scarred this child for life.  I mean, I emotionally scarred him for life, most definitely.  But I was relieved to learn that no marks would be permanently left on his body.  I’m not sure how that was possible, since I had just recently opened the coffee and sipped merely three or four times from it.  After a minute or two of ‘cooling down’ – I demanded that the obnoxious boys who were laughing and hollering at the scene immediately stop and actually go to the washroom to get some stuff to clean up the mess.  As I’m cleaning up, I’m repeatedly asking Alan if he’s okay and repeating over and over again, “I’m mortified.  I’m mortified. I can’t believe I spilled hot coffee on a child.” Alan would consistently interject, with a smile on his face and a giggle in his response, “It wasn’t hot.  It wasn’t.” Keep in mind this was all before 9am and before Homeroom had even started.  Really?  I’m expected to compose myself for the rest of the day?  I’m supposed to still teach and interact with Alan without fixating on my Coffee Attack?

Did that just happen?  It’s a week later and I’m still asking myself that same question.

~Peace out from NTN

Is anything more powerful than feelings?

Why  haven’t I written in so long…maybe because I was shining at school and nothing dramatically noteworthy was happening?
No…that can’t be it.

Life, as to be expected, got in the way and it this simple: I neglected you, dithers blog.  And I’m sorry.  I’ll try not to let it happen again.

I spent all of January in my Poetry Unit.  This tends to be my favourite unit to teach because it’s where I see confidence truly growing.  Students who don’t think they excel in anything often find something to latch onto in a Poetry Unit.  It’s wonderful to watch that kind of blossoming happen.  I was told that I only had 3 lousy weeks to teach the most important Unit kids see all year.  Excuse me?  That’s ridiculous.  And an injustice for my kids. They don’t get a Poetry Unit in Grade 6 and they don’t get one in Grade 8.  So because their only full-exposure is in Grade 7, I will do the Unit justice and take as long as I need.  That was my inner thinking as I began.  It is also the motto that I upheld, especially when I was told to end my teaching and begin the new unit.  Why do administrator’s EVER think THAT is a good idea?  Cutting kids off from creativity, stifling their need to self-express, ending their streak of confidence — yeah, let’s totally put all of that into action…

I ignored the command to move on to the next Unit and just kept on being Poetic.  I risked the chance of being ‘caught’ — even though my Administrator’s always profess that their walks throughs are never intended to be ‘gotcha moments.’  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  That’s exactly what they are!  Let me surprise you.  Let me nitpick all the things you’re doing wrong, as opposed to praising something wonderful you have accomplished. Well 7 weeks later, I was thrilled to have rebelled.  Look at what some of my end result were:

Students shared their work, as we created a an Open-Mic night kind of venue.  They snapped for each other and supported one another’s hard-to-express pieces.  Some were brutally honest.  Some cried.  Few judged.  ALL learned something.  Something about themsleves and something about each classmate.  And isn’t that the most important part?  That they learn to express themselves, learn to interact and get to know each other on a much more personal level…?

We had a day where we wrote Identity poems.  The short assignment was this:  Write an Identity poem: How you view yourself, Or how others view you.  And…GO.  Lenny expressed how he was tired of being called a girl, simply cause he wears Crocs and has long hair.  Izzy got half way through her poem, talking about seeming quiet and shy but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hear, she doesnt feel…and on came the water works. She finished out her poem through sobs.  The expected snap of recognition was replaced with uproarious applause.  Her classmates were signaling that they were proud of her ability to express herself so honestly.  They knew it took guts.  The fact that she wrote those feelings down.  The fact that she was able to share.  And the fact that her classmates were so responsive.  I know I was beaming.
A girl sudent openly talked about having her heart broken.  She knew her classmates knew her ex-boyfriend.  She didn’t care.  Or at least she didn’t let her vulnerability show through.  She was filled with emotions and needed to express them.  And away she went.
An overacheiving (albeit, brilliant) student talked about how she’s sick of the expectations she is held to and sometimes just wants to be treated like a normal kid.  Cry for help much?  Her classmates were in awe.  They had no idea she ever felt this way.
A boy student, often incapable of ever focusing or accomplishing anything that is asked of him, turned out an insanely profound Identity poem, comparing his life to war, and the pressure he feels to please his family.  He compared his struggle to that of a fighting soldier, who feels stuck on the battle field.  I couldn’t help but publicly praise him.
It was clear from some of Tanya’s early writing pieces that she viewed herself as a dark soul.  But I had no idea of the prolific writing she was capable of until I read some of her poems.  They were yearnful yet broken, expressing a confused and tormented life.  They were about love and destruction, longing and pain, fiction and beauty.  And they flowed in a such a rhythmic pattern, you’d think Maya Angelou herself was standing in front of the class.  I immediately photocopied poems straight out of her notebook.
Molly wrote about bad decisions she makes.  Her Identity poem found her admiting to being unfocused and distracting others, when she knows how she should act.  She took responsibility for her actions, IN HER POEM, something I know she wouldn’t dream of doing in person.  But she was aware and she made others aware, that she was disappointed in her recent behaviour and that she knew better.  I had to remind myself that it was only a 12 year old speaking.

Roderigo stood up in front of his classmates and shared a ranting piece.  It was all about his Daddy who was ‘Never there.’  It was a flowing poem, filled with repetition and line breaks and imagery. But it was brutally honest, as he shared how abandoned he felt by Dad, how he never wants to be like him, how he’s so lucky that he has a Mom and she is enough.  This time, I was the first one crying.  I visibly wiped my tears away at the end.  I didn’t care if the kids could see.  I’m only human.  And Roderigo’s poem was heartbreakingly beautiful.

My Unit was FILLED with stories like this.  Still think I should have ended it ‘on schedule’?  And missed 4 weeks of exposed souls?

Not in this lifetime.  Not in my classroom.

~Peace out from NTN

Just think. Then speak.

Choosing your words.  Some people make great choices and do it without thinking.  Some people NEED to think about what they say or better yet, what they mean.  It doesn’t come so easily to them and therefore inappropriate or misused words are blurted out.

All I ask is that you THINK.

To me, there’s nothing worse then someone who uses a poor choice of words and gives one of three excuses:
1.) I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that word.
2.) It’s a habit!
3.) I don’t mean it like that.

Here is my response to your 3 stupid answers.  Yes, stupid.
1.) I’m glad you don’t think anything is wrong with that word.  I can’t  change your blackened soul.  But you are offending an entire group of people.
2.) Break your habit.  That’s part of life.  We sometimes get into bad habits and therefore, must break them. It’s important to make the effort.
3.) I’m glad you can cover up your tracks by admitting you didn’t mean no ill-intention. Too bad you offended an entire group of people, thanks to the actual meaning of the word you used.  So your excuse doesn’t work here!

At this point, you might be wondering the kinds of words people might be using that accounts for getting me so riled, so passionate about this subject.  Well, I’m not talking about the good old fashioned curse words/cuss words/swear words.
Those being:
1.) Fuck
2.) Shit
3.) Asshole
Need I go on?  You get the idea.  Though yes, it’s true people can be offended/affected by curse words, that actually boils down to preference.  If you feel curse words are crass and offensive, or if you don’t mind and you use them to express emotion.  We’re talking like/dislike in this case.

So let me clarify.  I’m talking about specific words (or phrases), MISUSED as an insult when there are a PLETHORA of other words to choose from.
Those being:
1.) Retard, Retarded
2.) Fag, Faggot *NEVER okay to say this word*
3.) Nigger *NEVER okay to say this word*
4.) That’s so gay.
Do I have to continue?  I cringe even typing the words/phrases.  Some words HAVE MEANING, regardless of if you meant that meaning or not when you spoke them.  There are some circumstances when you can use some of these words/phrases, though political correctness can come into play.

Example from one:

-You can talk about someone with mental retardation, saying that they are a mentally retarded person.
-You CANNOT call someone that is bothering you, getting in your face, pissing you off, etc…a ‘retard’ or to ‘stop being retarded.’

Example from four:

-You can talk about your homosexual friend, referring to them as your gay friend.  And if we stretch the proposed stereotype, you may even react to an image/situation where two people of the same gender are engaged in sexual behaviour/looking friendly and say, ‘that’s so gay.’  Okay, you’re right. Two gay people are doing something. That is, technically, gay.
-You CANNOT tell someone that is annoying you, doing something bothersome that they, ‘Are so gay.’

Here’s the part, from all of this, that really kills me.  It all comes down to being careless.  People who say any of these words/phrases, THEY KNOW the potential damage being done by their utterance.  And even if they don’t, they do know there are other options, they just choose not to give a shit (*You may not like cursing, but I didn’ttechnically  just offend any entire group by writing that).

So when I hear my students saying, “That’ so gay” or “Dont’ be retarded,” I immediately look at them and say:
“Oh, you mean ‘that’s so’ or ‘don’t be’:
dumb
stupid
silly
ridiculous
crazy

I even count off each word on my finger, because undoubtedly, when someone calls someone gay or retarded, they are actually trying to convey that they are dumb, stupid, silly, ridiculous or crazy.  Do you understand where my problem lies?  That means, by definition, that the culprit (Yep, I liken these kinds of people to criminals) is referring to people with mental retardation/disabilities and people who are homosexual as dumb, stupid, silly ridiculous, crazy people.  HOW WRONG IS THAT?  And whether they think that way or not, the truth is that their words have meaning.  And words stick, people remember what was said to them at 6, at 11, at 18, etc…Right?  If someone is pissing them off/irking them, just choose the correction adjective to express how you feel.

You just can’t do it, speak so incorrectly.  That’s what it comes down to.  It’s enough that I struggle with my students, who are still learning and growing.  I always tell them that I used ‘gay’ and ‘retarded’ casually when I was a teenager, not thinking it was a big deal, until someone once explained how big of a deal it was, and I made an EFFORT to stop.  I didn’t just shrug my shoulders, like so many people do, and give some excuse that it was a habit or that I didn’t mean it like that.  So you think that the struggle would stop with Middle School students right? WRONG.  I find it just disgusting when a colleague or someone my age uses such words incorrectly.  Today, I was in a meeting with half of the faculty at my school.  A teacher raised her hand and said, “I have a retarded question…” I immediately said outloud, in front of everyone, “You mean a ridiculous question.” I wasn’t rude or nasty.  I just, by reflex, corrected her.  If you say it and no one says anything against it, it’s as if it’s okay.  She corrected herself, but the teacher behind her said, “Yeah, ‘ridiculous, NTN doesn’t like ‘retarded’.  Only NTN.”  I quipped back and said, “No one likes it.  It’s wrong!” I was so angry. And this was a teacher I like!  I could have got into it with her but the whole point of my correction was now the thing being missed.  Again, this isn’t an issue of like/dislike, or being comfortable/uncomfortable with a word.  It’s a matter of right and wrong.  The word was used INCORRECTLY, and by definition, was generally offensive to AN ENTIRE group of people.  She meant, “I have a dumb, stupid, silly, riduclous, crazy, question.”  Instead, her phrasing, likened anyone with a mental disability, to any of those 5, inaccurate meanings.

I’m so sick and tired of people, EDUCATED ADULTS at that, shaking it off or setting such example.  How are our kids supposed to learn if we don’t model the behaviour ourselves!?

People who choose to say these words/phrases, misusing their meaning in the process, truly are: dumb, stupid, silly, ridiculous and crazy.

Make an effort, people.

~Peace out from NTN