Killed because they called for help

Walwyn Jackson with his newborn child

ANOTHER YOUNG Black man was gunned down by New York City police in early September--one in a long list of people killed by those who were supposed to "protect and serve" them.

On September 7, 26-year-old Walwyn "Smiley" Jackson was shot by police in Queens. His family had called 911 when they found him holding a kitchen knife to his own throat. Jackson was distraught at being unemployed and unable to provide for his 2-week-old son, Landon.

As Jackson's grandmother, Gloria Cameron, said in an interview:

We called 911 because we wanted an ambulance to come to take him to the hospital. He was no threat or harm to anyone but himself. When [the police] came to the door, I didn't want to let them in. They told us to get out of the way and stay downstairs. One of them went for their gun as they went upstairs. I tried to tell them he's sick. I started to cry and then I heard the shot. He never even made a sound.

What little coverage there is in the mainstream media described Jackson simply as an "emotionally disturbed man," wielding a seven-inch knife. "That's what bothers me the most," said another family member. "He wasn't 'emotionally disturbed,' he was just depressed."

WHAT YOU CAN DO

The Graham and Davis families are part of "No Justice, No Peace"--a citywide speaking tour of family members of police violence victims in New York that will take place the first week of October. For information about tour stops and speakers, visit NYCSocialist.org on the web or "No Justice, No Peace" on Facebook.

"We told him not to worry, we'd take care of him" Jackson's mother, Lorna Francis, said in an interview. "But my son, the way I brought him up, he didn't want to depend on anybody."

The family disputes media reports that the police attempted to Taser Jackson first. Many family members also don't believe Jackson was actually going to kill himself. In fact, he hesitated for several hours after first putting the knife to this throat, speaking to his mother and brother on the phone.

"There are no words to express how I feel," Francis said. "They took a good person, they took my life." "[The police] tell too many lies, and they think they can get away with it," she continued. "When you call for help, they take that as their prescription to kill."

According to Francis, no one from the NYPD, the city or any local politician has come to speak to her.

In fact, rather than apologize to the family, the NYPD continues to victimize them, including at the wake at the Jackson family home. According to Francis, the police parked a van down the street, harassed and searched people or their way inside, and even ticketed her 21-year-old son when he picked up a beer can someone had left on the ground outside.

Jackson's family has refused to be intimidated, holding vigils at the house and marches to the precinct to demand that the officer who shot Jackson be held accountable. "I want an indictment," said Francis.

small victory

I have been reading Marie Masterson's 101 Principles for Positive Relationships with Young Children. One principle argues that you should only react to positive behavior, so today I thought I'd give it a try on N.

For example, if he got out of line I would compliment all the people around him for staying in the line. Then, when (if) he got in line, I would compliment him.

Well, it wasn't going so well. Every time I complimented someone else he would throw a tantrum. The only reason I was still trying it was for consistency. So, we were in the hall, screaming, in the corner. It took every ounce of energy not to acknowledge it. For FIFTEEN minutes.

We started walking back to class and I ignored him, hoping he wouldn't call my bluff and stay in the hallway. And he didn't. That little bugger got back in line on his own.

Valentine for Ernest Mann

You can't order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two"
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn't understand why she was crying.
"I thought they had such beautiful eyes."
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he reinvented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of the skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we reinvent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.

- Naomi Shihab Nye

day 22

"Ms. Haley, my brain is floaty."

Our Donors Choose package arrived today! I love telling children that they are working so hard that people heard about them and want to send them things. It wasn't the same as the day we got the carpet, but it was still very special.

strike is over!

A collective breath of relief just came from thousands of teachers across Chicago.

yoga

Taking deep breaths is a big deal in my class. Last year, I used the strategy all the time to bring the energy down in a busy or hectic moment. This year, I haven't used it as much, but I certainly plan to. I was so happy to find a recent article from Teaching Tolerance that confirms what I have already observed in my classroom: focusing on mindfulness and relaxation techniques improves classroom culture.

strike, week 2

The strike continues today, and apparently the Mayor is taking the CTU to court. One thing to keep in mind as the strike continues: children and teachers will make up the days missed - just like snow days. NO instructional time is being lost, just delayed.

If, after a week of extensive coverage, you still believe that this is just about money please read this summary of the issues.

And if you believe that teachers shouldn't fight for fair pay in general, please know that I make less than $40K. On a 65 hour work week (which, let's be honest, is an underestimation) that's about $11/hour. How would you feel going to a doctor that made only $11/hour? An insurance agent? A lawyer? I know babysitters who make more than that.

If you'd like to read a teacher's voice (rather than the media) about why you should support the strike, please read here.

day 18

"It's easier to take things down than to put them up."

Today was my grade-level partner's last day. We have been a dynamic team for the past year. From the first moment I met her, I knew I liked her. She was smiling, observing from the back of the room -- already supporting me before she had even taken over her own classroom. During quiet time, I would peek across the hallway at her from my desk and she would smile, a reassurance that she was overwhelmed too. During the hardest months for me last winter she would make a Dori face at me, and even hung a sign "Just keep swimming."

She encouraged me, mentored me, laughed with me -- even laughed at me when I needed it. I am certain that I would not be the teacher that I am today without her. This morning during bathroom break I looked out the window and watched Midnight pull away with a heavy heart.

poverty and education

In case you're just tuning in, it's no secret that I think that education can only do so much. It is a myth that we are the farthest country behind in education in the world. It is a reality that we have a lot more people living in poverty than other countries, that we do a poor job supporting said population, and that it translates to their educational success (or lack thereof).

This article makes three points:

1.  Governments have the power to reduce poverty, and reduce it a lot.  European governments do far more towards this goal than does the US government.

2.  It’s unlikely that Americans poor people are twice as lazy or unskilled or dissolute as their European counterparts.  Individual factors may explain differences between individuals, but these explanations have little relevance for the problem of overall poverty.  The focus on individual qualities also has little use as a basis for policy.  European countries have fewer people living in poverty, but not because those countries exhort the poor to lead more virtuous lives and punish them for their improvident ways.  European countries have lower poverty rates because the governments provide money and services to those who need them.

3.  The amount of welfare governments provide does not appear to have a dampening effect on the overall economy.

racking them up

At lunch, which teachers are required to supervise, things get a little crazy at the end (which makes sense because as we collect trays, the kids have nothing to do). We quickly realized that we needed some kind of attention-getter. At the end of lunch we start chanting "One time, one time, two times, one time," etc. They rhymically clap to sound off that they heard us. This is an attention getter that was used a lot last year so kids are familiar with it, and it's catchy. Then, as the kids line up, we do it again so that they are focused on us instead of each other.

Friday, I was chanting. The kids were lining up, all 100 or so of them. Things were going smoothly, although not perfectly. Then, an administrator came in and began yelling "Hands up!" This is another quiet-down strategy we use. After yelling "Hands up!" a few times, children started clapping back at me with their hands in the air, in an attempt to listen to both adults. Comedy.

Finally, exasperated, she turned to me and said, "Ms. Haley. Stop." I was bewildered. I stopped. Chaos ensued. Children began talking and play fighting. She immediately started taking recess away from those children.

The Worst Teacher in Chicago

I appreciate that the CTU is bringing to light some of the larger issues with education in the media.

going for more than one today

My team leader just walked in, and informed me that I would be subbed-out at 2:40 for a grade-level meeting. You know, since the one on Monday wasn't good enough. Obviously I asked why. She said, "To talk about your schedule." This woman is determined to stop me from just closing my door and teaching -- and frankly, it's getting on my nerves. Mer-it badge.

work email

Has been down all week (and I'm not a striking teacher). #meritbadge

day 15

Today, I was given a little bit of hope.

We did a lesson on self control. First, I blew a bunch of bubbles and they went crazy popping them. N was in the time out doing the usual, "What about me?!" whine. I really wanted him to be a part of the lesson, so as soon as he got himself together I let him come back. He seated himself just in time for the next part of the lesson.

I asked, "What is self control?" Parents everywhere came straight out of their children's mouths. Control your mouth. Keep your body to yourself. I then explained that self control is a part of the brain that we use to keep ourselves from just doing anything we want. Do you see where I was going?

I then challenged them to use their self control to NOT pop the bubbles when I blew them (Ms. H, my doppleganger, accused me of torture when I told her about my plan for this lesson).

When I got to N, after not getting to pop any bubbles, I reminded him to use self control. Then I blew a cloud of bubbles at him. That little boy did not touch one bubble.

But that's not the best part. As I began to praise him, the entire class erupted into applause for him.

For the first time, everyone supported him and the feeling in the room soared.

16:35

Our new bathroom time shaved SIX minutes off of our old bathroom time from two weeks ago. Victory!

hi/lo

Hi:

Attempting to explain a lunchtime fiasco in which N apparently took off his shirt, covered it in mustard, and threw it on the floor, to N's mother with two colleagues in the car. I literally almost lost it -- the first time today I had laughed at one of N's antics.

And a close second: spending recess with Puzzles (nickname). She hasn't been happy at school yet and she certainly won't talk to me. Today, she asked to stay in with me so I let her. We did a puzzle while I ate my lunch and she quickly explained that she is good at puzzles because she practiced with "the lady at the police office where they take you to take care of you and that's why [she] lives with her aunt." We really got to bond today and it was beautiful.

Lo:

N crying on the floor (not an uncommon occurrence) before 10am. I cannot even begin to describe how destructive his behavior is. I almost followed suit.

day 13

Lucky number 13! I am having the best day.

• Someone from Donors Choose emailed to say that a partner is looking to fund my whole project. 
• Texas (nickname, of course) brought me a donut as a surprise.
• I facilitated at least two friendships.
• EVERYONE is smiling!

Now here's the part that I wish I didn't have to write: three children are absent today, including N. I plan to sit down tonight and think about what made today different and how I can replicate it.  However, having 20 children instead of 23 is magical -- there's no way around that.

elephant in the dark

Some Hindus have an elephant to show.
No one here has ever seen an elephant.
They bring it at night to a dark room.

One by one, we go in the dark and come out
saying how we experience the animal.

One of us happens to touch the trunk.
"A water-pipe kind of creature."

Another, the ear.
"A very strong, always moving back and forth, fan-animal."

Another, the leg.
"I find it still, like a column on a temple."

Another touches the curved back.
"A leathery throne."

Another, the cleverest, feels the tusk.
"A rounded sword made of porcelain."
He's proud of his description.

Each of us touches one place
and understands the whole in that way.

The palm and the fingers feeling in the dark are
how the senses explore the reality of the elephant.

If each of us held a candle there,
and if we went in together,
we could see it.

--Rumi

will I ever love again?

I don't love my kids. On a lot of days, I don't even like them. I was just talking to another teacher who is having similar doubts about her attachment to her students. We agreed that there was something special about the first time... My relationships last year were such an important part of my classroom. I'm just not sure how things are going to pan out. I know these things take time, but this year everything feels like it's my job, not my life, and that is a very different feeling.

folded hearts

We've got a bully on our hands. Miss A is too worldly in my opinion, and far too apt to roll her eyes at everyone. On Thursday, I got a report from a parent saying that Miss A had called her child ugly and bald. On Friday another student didn't want to come to school because she was worried about Miss A picking on her. I found out about that from the dean.

On Friday afternoon, I changed my plans and did a lesson on name calling. I traced a bunch of hearts and then I told a social story with puppets named after former students. Antonio had called Marica ugly. Marica was hurt. I folded up the heart. Antonio apologized, and her heart opened back up to him. I pointed out, though, that the folds in the heart did not go away. He could never fully undo the damage to her heart. For the first time since school started, I had everyone's attention, even N. After, we cut hearts to remember that everyone only gets one heart and we need to be careful with it.

emotional constancy

One of the biggest struggles I've had over the past two weeks is maintaining emotional constancy. With the demands of starting school and the specific needs of N I found myself in overdrive more often that I should have. I was yelling every day -- not for effect, but because I lost my temper.

Over the past few days, I feel like the magical force that was my unwavering emotional constancy last year is back. Especially with N, I'm noticing a difference. All of my students have relaxed a little and there is less tension in the room.

day 10

Today is going exceedingly well. I am trying to soak up all the good before it slips away into another challenging stretch.

• Four day weekends make me feel so refreshed! Especially when I have visitors. 
• Kids are also feeling refreshed -- and everyone is finally getting routines down.
• N remembered my name
• I did not have lunch duty today. It's amazing what a difference 20 minutes makes. I ate my lunch slowly and was ready to pick them up from recess.
• The speech therapist was in to see N. She suggested that he sit on a chair at the carpet. HUGE difference. 
• I caught a nice big bug! I'm excited to show the kids after quiet time.