Understanding through dialouge

Wednesday’s field trip was to Washington’s Islamic Center. Unfortunately for us, the hour or the only two hours that it rained hard this week encompassed our seven block walk from the metro stop to the center. By the time we reached the gates, you wouldn’t have been able to tell whether or not I had taken the time to try my laundry. And with proper irony, the clouds decided to stop raining about 10 minutes after we got there.

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With our shoes off and the women’s heads wrapped, we entered the mosque. I sat watching intently the four guys intently praying in a rhythm and pattern wholly unknown to me.

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After a few minutes of observing, the mosque’s teacher came to speak with the group. He gave us a brief history of this particular mosque, where different parts of the building came from, and then he opened up for discussion. People asked questions, such as: what are Muslims’ perceptions of Christians; how is the Quran to be interpreted, contextually or literally; how does Jesus fit into Islam’s perspective; how have things changed for Muslims in D.C. following 9-11; and is a hijab required of Muslim women? His answers to each of these provided an interesting, much more moderated response than the media or “common knowledge” would lead one to believe.

Lazy Sunday

After sustaining a sprint-like pace during my time in Washington, Sunday’s breakfast was a much welcomed rest.

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During our visit to Trader Joe’s the day before (which is where we found out from a cashier that there was a methlab bust in a GW freshman dorm room), I discovered heaven in the form of food: pumpkin pancakes. I quickly bought two boxes, along with a box of spiced apple bread mix. As a result of this marvelous discovery, Jaclyn, Aaron, and I realized that brunch the next morning was a must.

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So at 10:30 a.m. we got up and started cooking. Jaclyn was in charge of the bacon, Aaron setting the table, and I had the pancakes. And in an attempt to expand my culinary skills, I tried making a Mickey Mouse head (which failed) and the first letters of each of our names (which worked out well for all of us, save Aaron’s A).

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Once the cooking was finished, we sat down to our OJ, coffee, bacon, and pancakes, and enjoyed the morning.

To new experiences

It is obvious that with Washington comes a lot of history, but U Street has a history all its own. After the start of the 20th century, the neighborhood began to transform from being predominately white to more racially diverse. This continued to grow, and the community was doing well, until the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., after which, the neighborhood turned into a thriving drug scene. Since then, the neighborhood has turned around and is now a very culturally-rich area of the city.

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So, in an effort to take full advantage of the unique experiences U Street offers, I planned Friday evening around dinner at Etete, an Ethiopian restaurant that made The Washingtonian’s Cheap Eats List, and tickets to a jazz performance at Bohemian Caverns.

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First, dinner. After a few minutes of walking U Street, we found the Etete in all of its understated glory. But what the restaurant lacks in size, it makes up for in flavor. In deference to the Cheap Eats recommendation, we ordered the sambusas, which are lentil-filled, deep-fried pastries. This turned out to be a wonderful decision, as the warm, triangular dishes were a perfect combination of salt and spice. For our main meal, we ordered a spicy meat dish (which, after the sambusas and our waitress making sure we wanted the spicy dish, we were worried would be too much to handle!). But, again, this was a great choice. When our meal came out we had in front of us, a pizza-shaped, spongy bread with a pile of meat and two piles of vegetables on it and a basket of more rolled, spongy bread. With no clue of how to appropriately consume our dinner, we looked around, saw everyone eating with their hands, and realized that our wet-wipes weren’t superfluous.

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Once filled to the brim with fantastic Ethiopian food, we made our way to Bohemian Caverns. With its distinctive lit-up, piano-key awning, the jazz club is hard to miss. After checking in with the bouncer, we opened the door and walked through a corridor lined with stalactites and stalagmites to make our way to the caverns.

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Darkly lit with a single candle on each table, Bohemian Caverns has an atmosphere unmatched by anything I have seen – yes, even better than a cave party. The sea of white tablecloths surrounded the stage, with some tables just an arm’s length from the performers.

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As for the evening’s actual event, the expectations set by the mere presence of the room were met and surpassed by Louis Hayes and his group.

Thoughts on a night with the police in SE D.C.

Thursday night after work, I was able to go on a ride-along through the Sixth District, including Anacostia and other parts south east of the Capitol. While on the ride along, I was able to talk a bit with each officer about the trends they see in crime; their thoughts on what promotes it and what best combats it; how they thought public housing affects crime; how they though public housing is doing generally, both in how it serves the individuals and its effectiveness; and how they thought the city ought to make changes in the way it combats crime and helps the poor. I also was able to witness, first-hand, the different policing styles and the subjectivity in application of the law. While social programs are always created with the intent of helping people and making up for what they’ve missed out on in society, if not properly executed they are both a detriment to the individual’s growth and they’re a waste of taxpayer dollars.

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I will begin where my ride-along started, which is with the near-arrest of three 20-somethings that were driving in Clay Terrace, the worse public housing complex in the Sixth District, their grandmother’s rented car that was past due. Having been the second police car to arrive, Officer --------- was not the primary on the incident and, therefore, was not in charge of making decisions regarding arrests. Although the three individuals met the requirements for the unauthorized use of a vehicle, the primary officer did not arrest them because he believed that they were simply stuck in an unfortunate situation. This decision was out of the norm, as the officer was asked to explain his reasoning to dissenting officers on 4 different occasions. Even -------------- thought that it was a “cut-and-dry UV.” From what I could gather, this differing decision was a result of two things: the particular officer’s compassion for people and the fact that the occupants of the vehicle were dressed fairly well, were respectful, and had a dialect that was, for the most part, free of slang. I think that while their respect had a significant impact — as it rightfully should — on the officer’s decision, I believe that the first and last factors did as well.

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To begin the discussion on housing, I will start with ----------‘s brief description of the history of public housing in D.C. In the 1960s and 1070s there was a large expansion of social programs and, consequently, a large number of public housing units were built. The prevailing thought was that, if all of the underprivileged were gathered together through a common, free place to live, then that area could be flooded with services such as vocational training, health care, child care, and the like. This way, some of the burdens they experience being poor, would be alleviated in the hopes that they would be able to work to a point where they could be self-sufficient.

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This is a great plan in theory, but having neglected the fact that these services would be the first to be cut during an economic downturn, public housing units have turned into quagmires for uninspired people, crime, and poor living conditions. Additionally, the simple fact that housing is free makes public housing a frustrating predicament in that, while it allows for people to currently live under a roof it: 1) disincentivizes legal work because as soon as the individual begins working, they no longer qualify for public housing, have to pay for their own housing, and have to work; 2) makes public housing seem standard and normal because the individual grows up within a community that does not work and does not see the opportunity for a better future; and 3) allocates a group of people that have nothing to do all day and, in turn, end up drinking.

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Having always been focused on meeting the needs of people, I neglected to consider the long-term effects of providing for them. Now, I am not entirely abandoning my caretaker mentality, but rather recognizing that it is not a benefit to provide for people unconditionally. Rather than the current public housing system, one with restrictions on certain habits, such as drinking and smoking, would be appropriate. For anyone that would argue that it violates their freedom, I would counter that they are free to live elsewhere and drink all they want, but when they’re living off someone else’s money, regulations ought to be allowed. Similarly, I would advocate for well-defined time periods in which a person is allowed to live in public housing. In the same way that a person is not allowed to collect unemployment checks indefinitely, public housing ought to be cut off at some predetermined point. Obviously, this would not include people with disabilities, who are not able to work.

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In sum, while my ride-along with the Metropolitan Police Department was not action-packed, it provided me with the unique opportunity for conversations with police officers who deal with the effects of effective and ineffective social policies, specifically public housing. Seeing it up-close forced me to grapple with the reality of tangible money being wasted, because when removed from the situation, it can become too easy to accept ineffective social programs instead of working toward better solutions, leaving the individuals worse-off and the taxpayers out more money.

Government entities

Wednesday began with a metro ride over to Foggy Bottom. There, I went to both the State Department and was able to listen and talk with a woman who had spent her career working as a mediator with FCMS.

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The first stop was at the FCMS building. There, we heard what was essentially an extension of the class — what it was like to be a mediator, the things she had done, and tricks she had picked up along the way. One interesting aspect of her job was that it could go all hours of the night, and because of that she always brought a change of clothes and would sneak off to wash up and change so that she would always appear fresh and ready to go, which made mediating sound so much more like a game than one would ever hope.

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Instead, what caught my attention was her brief mention that “it was good that those employees were unionized.” As soon as she said this, I scribbled down a question to ask her later. So, following her presentation, I walked to the front of the room to discuss her thoughts on unions, as she is often the one directly working with unions and their disputing party to make a solution. Her thoughts were that the quality of a union depends on its leadership. If the leadership is out for what’s in their best interest, whether that be wealth or pride, obviously the union isn’t served well. But if they do have good leadership, she thought they were a good thing — she included the teamsters in this category. While this makes for more effective meetings between large disputing parties, I don’t think unions are good for broad policy changes.

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In between FCMS and the State Department, I had lunch at a place where, every hour, on the half hour, the waitresses and cooks come out to dance to a song amongst all the patrons. It was uncomfortable for me and for them, and to make things better, there were tourists with their cameras in the face of a poor girl who happened to be dancing near their table.

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The State Department, on the other hand, was impressive in our ability to visit it (albeit we weren’t allowed to see any of the building, not even the bathroom, without an escort), but our speaker was less than candid, making for a moderately engaging discussion on the U.S.’s efforts to combat terrorism abroad.

Contrasts as consequences

To start Sunday off right, I went to the White House Gardens tour. Happening only twice a year, this is a special event. Getting up early in the hopes of avoiding what I thought would be long lines for tickets, I was pleasantly, and quizzically surprised at how easily people were able to get tickets to walk around, essentially, the backyard of the White House. In order to get an official tour—which is not even that extensive—one would need to apply at least two months in advance, wait in long lines, and have a government issued ID. But for our tour, one need only to pick up a ticket that they were handing out on the street, rip off the stub, and walk through a metal detector—no ID or prior check in.

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Once allowed in, you’re free to see the backyard swing set, the putting green, the fountain up-close, the gardens, the Children’s Gardens, and the outside of the Oval Office. As I was taking pictures of the Oval Office and of the yard space where a soccer ball had been left from some previously played game (and where Bo had, apparently, been running around only an hour earlier), I was awestruck. Awestruck of the historical decisions that had been made here. Awestruck of the ordinariness of the people who had lived here. Awestruck that I, and 12,000 others, could get this close.

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After the White House, we walked over to the Old Post Office, to relax, look at the city’s historic monuments from an aerial perspective, and realize that the city is a lot closer and condensed than riding the metro everywhere grants it.

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On to Monday. In a complete change of pace, I had a paper due in Monday night’s class and to top it off, we had a 130-page document for the secretary come in that needed to be expedited. What this translated into was a really busy, multi-tasking Monday.

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While my lack of paper writing was my own fault, and I was the one who had to deal with the procrastination, the life of an editor is much less in control. We, as editors, were obviously not in control of when we first received the document. Yet, we were the ones that were under the pressure to make the deadline. This can be frustrating when you’re dealing with more than one office that has classified a document as “high priority.”

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The frustration of this particular priority caused me to reflect a bit on my internship. While on the one hand I am really coming to appreciate what I am learning, how I will be able to incorporate it into my work back at Luther and The Gadfly, and how, through editing, I have developed a keener eye for the strengths/weaknesses of arguments and for clear/unclear writing, it lacks the inspiring creative process that excites me. I would much rather be the one writing the original documents than the one polishing them. And with this experience, my creative writing in the future will be polished to the point where I won’t need an editor.

City life

In true Darling form, Saturday started with two cups of coffee, both at the apartment and at Dean and Deluca. After two cups of liquid alertness, I went on to roam the streets of Georgetown.

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While enjoying a scenic walk amongst busy streets and numerous cafes and shops, I stumbled upon a used book store. Nestled into a neighborhood not more than a block off a main Georgetown road, I decided to venture inside and see if there were any treasures to be found.

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Considering the recent recognition of Vargas Llosa and my upcoming trip to Peru, I combed through the books looking for something, anything of his. But my efforts were in vain.

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Later in the evening, I went out with a few friends toward Vienna. Having never ridden the metro past Rosslyn, I did not expect the Vienna to be as far out as it was, given the layout of the metro map. And in the same underassumption of distance, Jacklyn, our navigator for the evening—whose one-time stint ends here—thought that the place that we were going was not more than a few blocks away from the stop. Having opted to wear heels that night, I wasn’t particularly happy to learn that her estimate was only a mile and a half off.

The start of a weekend in DC

Friday I learned exactly how many publications ED publishes. And if you’re wondering, it’s 18 large boxes-full. One of the assignments I have while my supervisor is on vacation is to take unload, categorize, and take inventory of them all.

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After work, a friend and I went to Lola’s, a little restaurant on Barracks Row, near Eastern Market. This area is loaded with great places to eat, but the neighborhood has the potential to leave a girl walking alone at night a bit ill-at-ease. Having said that, my mom will appreciate me saying that both times I’ve went, it has been with other people.

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After a dinner filled with fantastic conversation, we walked to the mall, where we saw two Capitols—the real one and its image in the reflecting pool— and the Washington monument, all of which are made more magnificent by their contrast with the dark, night sky.

A visit to the White House

Today’s early morning was brought on by a trip to the White House. Arriving at the back entrance just before 8:10, which was the time that we had been told was the cut off for being allowed in, we stood in line until about 8:40, watching other groups jump in another line and get in much quicker than us. But all waiting aside, the tour was alright. We were able to see a couple rooms in the basement (one of which is a library, but was where Abigail Adams had washed her laundry), but there were room dividers preventing us from seeing the people talking just beyond them. The real action, seeing our nation’s leaders in action, was not a part of the tour.

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In addition to the East Room, where President Ford’s daughter had her senior prom, we continued on to the green, blue, and red rooms, where we heard brief snippets about each of the portraits or paintings in the room, the furniture, and what the room has historically been used for. Having ended our tour in the front foyer of the White House, we exited through the front doors, where I was able to see what I thought was a window of one of the Obama daughters because it had what seems to be such a common item among kids now, a butterfly window sticky.

Two American Darlings

After work Tuesday, a friend and I went to Pizzeria Paradiso, another in a long list of restaurant recommendations I have collected while in D.C. We made it just in time for the end of their happy hour, where I, very appropriately, ordered the American Darling.

Finally getting out to the museums

Monday, sadly, was the culmination of all of my homework procrastination. Having had such a wonderful time seeing the city with my friends, my homework has become the nagging reminder to get a shot – something you distantly remember doing, and recall that it was painful.

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So instead of heading out the door at 10, I hung back to get some spend some quality time with my friend homework.

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When I finally made it out the door, I met up with Thomas and his sister at the National Archives. There, we saw the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, and the Constitution. I was, and overheard that many others were, surprised that the size of the parchment. By my estimation, each sheet was two feet wide and three and a half feet tall.

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We also learned that “it’s plain hokum” from watching President Truman on one of the televisions, made a presidential seal, guessed at the identities of notable people in history, and saw history throughout its transitions in media.

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We also went to the world’s most popular museum, the Air and Space Museum. Their varied collection of air and spacecrafts, ranging from the Wright brothers’ plane to B-52s, was incredible. Each time I get into a plane, I hardly worry. I know that today’s planes are more safe than driving a car on the highway. And in many ways, I think this has caused me to significantly undervalue the innovation we have seen. For example, there was a wooden plane that, at some point, had taken people into the air. I wouldn’t dare volunteer to ride in it, but someone designed it, rode in it, and trusted it, as it was the newest form of transportation.

Dinner with the Van Dorens

Sunday I was invited to have dinner with Russ, Thomas’ uncle, and it turned out to be quite a treat. After an interesting stint getting stuck at the Pentagon metro stop and having one of Russ’ daughters (first, find her way into the Pentagon (not Pentagon City) complex, and then) pick us up, we rode back to his house in Arlington.

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Once there, I was able to meet his family and talk about what they’re doing, how one of them liked the transition to college, and where another was looking at going (which, Russ is 0-2 for selling Luther) , all while avoiding the topic of the recent Packer loss that day.

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Dinner was fantastic, but the conversation was what made the night. The quick-witted comments about issues today as well as frequently-used historical references made me feel as though I was sitting at the table of the Van Doren’s, straight out of Quiz Show.

Spies and fútbol

After sleeping in until 10 on Saturday, we got up and went to the International Spy Museum. Obviously, we wanted to catch up on our spy techniques and make sure that we were up to date. All joking aside, having gone through the museum, I can’t imagine living the life of a spy. All of it seemed to be props from a movie, to me, and I couldn’t imagine some of the things occurring in real life.

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For example, there was some diplomat that was here in the U.S. We decided to steal his shoes one night, remove the soles, and put microphones/recording devices into them, so that, wherever he went, we would be able to hear him!

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We all partake in some form of deception or outright lying at one point or another, but living day-to-day life as an actor in some role, I can’t imagine.

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On a sweeter note, we went out for frozen yogurt later with his sister, who lives and goes to law school here in D.C. Obviously indecisive, I got three flavors: coconut truffle, mango, and pumpkin pie. All were great, but I took great care to keep them separate.

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To end the day, we made our way to RFK Stadium, to see the DC United soccer team. Our seats were pretty good, as we were a few rows away from midfield. What was less fortunate was that we were in the second section, which, as you could guess, was right behind the first section. The first section is where all the intense, season-ticket-owning, 20-something, drunk fans get together and wave their flags, jump up and down in unison, play drums, yell, throw their beers in the air when something goes awry, and get in fights after the game because their team lost and they’re upset. Need I say more?

For starters

Today was the opening for the Scholastic Art Exhibit at ED. Each of the students with artwork on display had won a scholarship of $10,000 and are anywhere from 14 to 18 years-old. Having put up artist bios yesterday, I got to see many of the pieces exhibited: there was a serious collection of talent in the auditorium today.

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A big issue for the art opening today was in getting Jill Biden to speak at the opening. There had been tons of communication between offices at ED. And after all was said and done, I was privy to a conversation that summed-up the way things work in DC. A woman from my office was talking with the head of another, and they were strategizing about: 1) who they needed to talk to in order to get the big names at the openings; and 2) how to get the attention they wanted toward the arts. They discussed talking with a woman who works closely with Arne Duncan, and having her say something to him in support of the arts, because with her proposing the idea to him, it would come with more weight. And this seems obvious – that someone you work closely with would have more sway with you – but the overt strategizing still catches me a little off-guard.

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But onto the weekend. To start off my three-day weekend, I went to the airport to pick up Thomas. But by a weird coincidence, he had ran into his uncle on the plane, and so he gave us a ride home instead of taking the metro.

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We came back to the apartment, was obviously jealous of our view. Then we set out for 2 Amys. As we put our name in, the aromas coming from the kitchen – which is certainly placed very strategically near the entrance – hinted at the wonderful tastes that would soon come. Once seated, we ordered bruschetta, pizza, and cannolis. Despite my desire to eat at as many new places as possible, 2 Amys won me over, and I would gladly return.

A purchase

Thursday, I had a revelation. I can’t possibly fit all I want to do into the weekends. Weeknights need to be incorporated as well.

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So this week, when I haven’t had class, I’ve gone out and done something, and I wasn’t about to stop on Thursday. So a roommate and I took the metro to 18th, and went to Amsterdam Falafelshop, which has now been recommended twice to me.

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Though I had been to this area of town once before, it was fun to see it on a weeknight, when all the restaurants are still there, but the masses of loud people aren’t. Walking past different restaurants, window-shopping for the next outing, “trying-on” each by picturing my friends and myself as the couple I saw playing cards or the group eating Ethiopian food by the handfuls is a feeling I have experienced routinely in D.C. and one I can’t imagine ever getting tired of.

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So instead of simply trying on, we purchased. Jaclyn and I went to the Falafelshop, made our own falafels and enjoyed the hostel-esque atmosphere as we dove into a falafel filled with flavors that, when combining, we didn’t know or expect would result in a blissful harmony that resulted.

Of veneers and reality

For this week’s field trip, our group visited the Pentagon and talked with a current coronel in the army.

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The tour was alright, but most of it wasn’t what you wanted to see or learn about when visiting the Pentagon. We walked around the inside and the courtyard; learned about how the Soviets thought that the Pentagon hotdog stand was an integral part of U.S. operations; saw the quilts, artwork, and pictures sent to the Pentagon; and learned a bit about the history of and the current jobs the military has throughout the world. The thing I was most impressed by was our tour guide, who gave the entire tour walking backwards and recited, verbatim, the tour (which, we learned later, is only about a quarter of the entire tour that he only spent two weeks to memorize).

Upon return, we gathered in the D.C. Room at LCWS to meet with Col. Maurice Clemons, a pastor who has served as the Deputy Chief of Staff for Logistics for 23 years. Col. Clemons had a candid humor in which he expressed what seemed to be genuine feelings about the army and his role that I very much appreciated, as I have with past speakers for LCWS.

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He talked about how, in going to Iraq, he was surprised to see many of the same faults there as we do here (pedophilia, prostitution, ect.); how this was an eye-opening experience, seeing that they’re just as human as we are. He also noted their merits. In Iraq, like in the U.S., people look like they come from numerous different backgrounds. But in Iraq, unlike in the U.S., the people identify under one, unified label: Iraqis, whereas we divide.

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He was very candid about expressing his perceptions of how Iraqis have received Americans. He seemed to understand why they’re less than welcoming, now that the U.S. has come in and beaten them down twice and stayed multiple years. He mentioned his having a $25,000 bounty on his head and his ultra-awareness of his surroundings since his tour in Iraq. And, not in an effort to scare us, but more to make us aware and appreciative of the efforts that are put into our protection, he reiterated that people are working around the clock to keep us safe.

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While he was critical of many things, mainly the attitude the army and many individuals brought with them to Iraq that they're better and that they know what is best for the people without ever asking, his having stayed in the military for 23 years, I believe, speaks to the value he sees in what he is doing and the potential he sees for being able to make a positive impact from his position.

If not Superman, what are we waiting for?

Having seen Waiting for ‘Superman’ last night, I thought it would be appropriate to blog about what I see to be the dilemmas in education policy and offer some ideas for solutions.

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Some of the problems highlighted in the movie were teachers unions, a lack of options to students, and burdensome regulations coming from multiple places.

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In addressing teachers unions, the movie stated out how a teachers’ contract serves as a barrier to reform in schools. At one point in the movie, the silver screen is filled with teachers sitting silently in chairs while the narrator states that they wouldn’t even allow a vote on whether or not they wanted merit pay that could double their salaries. Earlier in the movie the head of the teachers’ union was passionately saying that they as the teachers union were fighting for kids. And when you look only at turning down a higher salary that would certainly seem to be the case. And they may feel that they’re fighting the good fight, but I don’t think it is creating incentives that give kids a truly exceptional education.

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This summer, working as a VISTA, I spent the summer alongside three other VISTAs in Austin and was a part of a much larger group that was based in the Twin Cities. We were all paid the same thing – and we knew this. We all had the same job description, which was about 75 percent working independently with kids and 25percent working together on community projects. After a couple weeks of work, we began summer school, where we each worked with a teacher, taking specific students out of class for a half an hour each day to work on extra reading-oriented activities.

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Knowing that I had a unique opportunity to work educationally with kids while not being seen as a teacher, I put a lot of effort into figuring out each of the kids different interests, learning styles, and, most importantly, making a lesson plan each day that was interesting and different enough from a typical lesson to be interesting to the kids. I did what I could to relate to and have fun with the kids, because I figured that my month with them wasn’t enough to make a significant difference in their scores, but it was enough time to be a positive model for them – someone fun that also liked reading. But my style was nothing like that of the two other women I worked with.

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They were both seniors, on track to graduating with a major in education. They kept a more formal relationship with the kids, working on lesson plans keeping. And while this seemed to be alright because it is what most of the other teachers were doing, it did nothing to take into account the interests of the kids. If we blame professors for not making things interesting for us as college students, we would be hypocritical to expect kids to fabricate an interest in daily work. One fellow VISTA even bragged about not having to do much because the teacher she was working with had provided tons of worksheets (probably the single most fear-inspiring word to a kid) for her to use. Throughout the summer, this woman also complained about how she did so much more work than everyone else around her. But what I noticed was rather her willingness to bow-out of duties when she had determined that someone was not pulling his weight. For example, one of member of our group missed a fifteen-minute session where we were preparing for one of our community activities. He did not miss out on much work, and even if he had been there, I doubt that there would have been something for him to do. Despite this, she decided that because she had done more than her share and that she was going to do less in the future.

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But back to the idea that we were all paid the same – and knew it. This was just a small example of how this created incentive for her to not put forth her best effort. Any extra effort she put didn’t get her any more than she already was. Now, I recognize that many teachers get into the profession because of an altruistic desire to teach America’s children. And that is fantastic, and I’m glad for it. But I do think that it is too much to expect that teachers maintain that drive despite the lack of any incentive to keep innovating. The rest of the world works on incentives. For the benefit of all kids, teachers should too. The positive for teachers is that they will be rewarded for putting forth effort they can be proud of. My only concern, which is a big one, is how this merit-pay will affect underperforming schools. I want to create incentives for teachers to work hard but I don’t want to created disincentives for teachers to take jobs in low-income districts.

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Since this blog is getting long, I think I’ll save my thoughts on charters and regulations for a later date. Sadly, it’s not like the education problem in America is going anywhere.

Learning the language

As a result of my discussion last week with my supervisor, I was given an assignment on a few pamphlets and brochures for ED employees regarding privacy and security of the confidential information with which they deal.

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Generally, this has been the most enjoyable assignment I’ve had. This is probably for two reasons. One, I am getting quicker at spotting many basic editing mistakes (superfluous capitalization, serial commas, hyphens/en dashes/em dashes, ect.). And this comfort is allowing me to take a significant step by focusing less on these smaller issues, and more on the issues my supervisor continuously has questions about (What do they mean when they’re saying this? They mention that they will mention this later and don’t; where is it? Is this fact really true?).

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This has been a hard transition because I have always looked at printed work with a fairly uncritical eye. Because, I mean, it’s printed; so it must be legitimate, right? Answer: no. People are always trying to win a point and make their argument, often times pushing the line. And, people can always make mistakes – even numbers, which I would assume are easy to transfer over, have been misquoted. And it’s not that the people writing these things aren’t smart, they are, but it’s that they’ve got their own agendas and they’re still flawed humans. Moral of the story: people write all we read, so even a slight degree of skepticism should be brought to everything.

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But, back to my assignment. I enjoyed working on the layout, and even had stylistic contributions for the pamphlets. But after my supervisor and I had gone over all of my corrections, the document was covered with eraser marks, my small scrawl, and nearly-illegible-to-anyone-else-but-me editing marks.

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So, in an effort to make my time spent editing worthwhile to the OMB, I went through the entire document and copied each of our edits onto a clean copy. While I have been picking up on certain editing marks as I’ve looked at the edits of some of my coworkers, this was the first time I had gone through a document with the AP stylebook open to the “Editing Marks” page. Now I’m in-the-know and can edit in a consistent way that, more importantly, can be interpreted by everyone else.

Appreciation and my niche

While I had been initially turned off to the idea of using a formal editing style ― mostly due to my frustration because it was so foreign to me ― I have come around to more fully appreciating it. This appreciation comes in two categories:

The first is that I appreciate the respectability that comes with a well-edited document. I have combed over numerous documents, all written by knowledgeable people, but because of their editing mishaps on their part, they lost a bit of credibility in my eyes. Granted, their knowledge of editing bears no direct connection with their knowledge of, say, counseling, but I still see them differently. This is similar to an interview; he probably has the qualifications, but if he looks disheveled, the employer probably won’t take him seriously. I went to a Senate Finance Committee hearing last week, and unfortunately for them, the person that drafted the hearing schedule didn’t appear to have any knowledge of editing whatsoever.

The second point of appreciation is for the critical eye editing has afforded me. There is a lot of BS. A lot that people say, and a lot that people write. But prior to this, I read, in large part, with the mentality that “I should absorb what this person is saying because there must be something to be learned from it.” But repeatedly, different departments have misquoted people, misquoted numbers, and made claims that are, perhaps, a bit bolder than the information permits. The process of seeing a fact in one of the drafts, initially questioning it (but only mildly), and eventually seeing that the writer had misrepresented the information, has changed and will, hopefully, continue to change my perspective in a way that will prompt me to challenge facts as I read them, instead of simply accepting and attempting to process.

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But finally, on one of the last couple documents, I was able to work a bit with the layout. It was a newsletter/announcement from one of the departments at ED, and it had a number of graphics and pictures in addition to print. This was very similar to the work I was doing this summer for an House campaign in Minnesota. And of all the documents I have edited, I enjoyed this one the most. I like the freedom and creativity that comes with it — if you count page layouts as a creative form of expression.

So I asked to be given any layout-type documents, so that I would be able to have that bit of creativity while using the respectable, AP-style editing.

Kid tested, ED approved

Monday was my first day of orientation as a reading mentor at Brent Museum Magnet School. Earlier in the month, I signed up to be a part of a mentor program that runs throughout Washington. Emails had been sent to all ED employees and, as I found out later, to all federal employees.

Having spent only three weeks at ED, I have already come to learn that the disconnect that some employees have talked about between the Department and the fruits of their labor is legitimate. Every day, people are processing information with the hopes that it will help someone somewhere. But it’s just that. The people they are working to help are far removed, and frankly, I am impressed by how they can stay so invested in the development of these ambiguous masses of students.

Now, my supervisor has taken strides to try and overcome these effects. Every two months a new art exhibit is displayed at the LBJ building, featuring art from different schools throughout the United States. This past exhibit featured Maryland’s high schools. These are an opportunity for ED employees to have a connection with the students they’re working for and see how their work has taken effect.

But I decided to go one step further. Working with kids, in some way shape or form, has been a part of my life for many years. I wanted to continue this while I am staying in D.C., because I believe that it’s all too easy to be able to slip out of a habit of service to others. Once you stop, you fill that time with other things, and soon you begin to believe you don’t have time for it. In signing up for Everybody Wins! DC, I will be reading with/to an elementary-aged kid once a week during lunch. This won’t be a big commitment, but enough to stay in touch with the reality of what ED is hoping to accomplish.

During my summer as a VISTA, I journaled my experiences and thoughts throughout the process. I worked in a variety of different settings, with kids from different backgrounds and in different roles. I wrote about what worked, what didn’t, what got kids excited, and what helped motivate a kid that was a bit on the rebellious side. In doing this, I hoped to retain some of the experience-tested strategies and knowledge gained, so as to avoid thinking too theoretically. As much as a journal will help because I will be able to go back and reference it, to stop working with kids, at any point, would make it too easy for me to slip away from experience-based ideas for reform.

And in reading Dewey’s Experience and Education, I am solidified in my belief that experiences that lead to understanding and solutions will lead the way to education reform in the future. Because we all recognize that many public schools are failing and that many students are struggling to get value out of their education. Today, Waiting for Superman comes out. It is a documentary about America’s failing public school system. I hope that it adds some constructive proposals, but if it is anything like past discussions, the conclusion will be that schools are doing poorly. Now, I’m not discrediting the recognition of failure ― that is the first step. What I do want, are proposals that are based not in theory, but in kid-tested experiences.