bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
The White Whale
Authors: Colby Jason M.
Published: November 2020

When bob wright awoke on Sunday March 1, 1970, he didn’t feel like getting in a boat. He had attended a wedding reception late into the previous night, and the morning in Victoria had broken cold and blustery. But he had promised to show his whale-catching operation to Don White, Paul Spong’s former research assistant. Wright already had an orca at his new oceanarium, Sealand of the Pacific, but he was keen to try his hand at capture, and he especially hoped to trap an albino killer whale often seen in local waters. When White and a friend arrived for the excursion, however, Wright wasn’t feeling very eager. “Bob is totally hung over, but he is feeling responsible,” White recalled. “He has told me to come, so he feels like we’ve got to do it.” Along with trainer Graeme Ellis, the three men piled onto Wright’s twenty-foot Bertram runabout and started for Pedder Bay. As the boat rounded Trial Island and cruised west past Victoria, the sea became choppy and Wright grew queasier. But minutes later, as they approached Race Rocks, he forgot all about his hangover. “Fuck!” he yelled. “It’s the white whale!” Sure enough, a group of orcas with what appeared to be an albino member was passing Bentinck Island and heading straight for Pedder Bay. The sighting was lucky, but the timing awful. Wright wasn’t set for a capture that day. His seine nets were in storage, and at first he couldn’t hail any of his Sealand staff. Determined not to let this opportunity pass, he gunned the Bertram into the bay and made straight for the Lakewood—a charter fishing boat he had rigged for orca catching. As Wright gathered his crew on the vessel, the excitement was palpable. “We were playing macho whale hunters,” White reflected, “and Bob Wright was our Captain Ahab.” With only one light net on board, the operation would have to be perfect, and everyone watched anxiously as the whales lingered near the mouth of Pedder Bay. Finally, as the sun began to set, the orcas entered.
Whaling in the New Northwest
Authors: Colby Jason M.
Published: November 2020

Don goldsberry had been speaking for only a few minutes at the Game Commission’s April 1972 hearing, and already Elizabeth Stanton Lay couldn’t believe her ears. Branding killer whales with dry ice? Burning their skin with lasers? Confining them to pools for research and profit? What kind of men were these? After listening to representatives from the Audubon Society, Friends of the Earth, and the Washington Environment Council voice their opposition, the sixty-year-old Lay rose to speak. “I have never before heard such a frank statement of what seems to me a totally inhumane attitude toward living creatures,” she declared. Marine mammals could do without the type of “research” Namu Inc. proposed. Whales were disappearing around the world, she reminded listeners, and the same could happen to orcas in Puget Sound. “When I was a very little girl, we used to see blackfish out in the bay, and we loved it,” she recalled. Now locals rarely saw the great creatures, except when men like Goldsberry trapped them behind nets. Lay was never one to stand idly by. Named after Elizabeth Cady Stanton, organizer of the 1848 Seneca Falls Convention on women’s rights, she would have made her namesake proud. Born in Tacoma in 1911, she had grown up in the nearby town of Rosedale on Henderson Bay and earned a history degree from Reed College in Portland, followed by a master’s degree in political science from the University of Washington. She studied in Geneva, worked as a journalist in Washington, DC, and served in the new Federal Security Agency during World War II. From the mid-1940s to the mid-1950s, she worked as a historian for the US military, living in Paris, Frankfurt, and Seoul and producing a two-volume account of the Berlin Airlift. By the time of the Game Commission hearing, Lay had retired to Rosedale, where she played the organ at her Christian Science church, promoted forest preservation, and fought to stop orca capture. Her interest in the issue may have started with young Ken Gormly’s 1968 account of the catch in Vaughn Bay.
New Frontiers
Authors: Colby Jason M.
Published: November 2020

Skana looked sick. On September 18, 1980, she failed to finish her show, and the next day she remained sluggish. Murray Newman and his staff were concerned. Along with Hyak II (formerly Tung-Jen), she was the Vancouver Aquarium’s biggest draw. In the thirteen years since Ted Griffin had captured her, Skana had been the star of Stanley Park, giving millions their first close-up view of a killer whale. And through her impact on Paul Spong and Greenpeace, she had helped reframe the international whaling debate. She may well have been the most influential cetacean in history, but she grew weaker each day, and despite heavy doses of antibiotics, she succumbed on Sunday, October 5. The necropsy revealed a fungal infection in her reproductive tract. Although aquarium officials were correct in noting that she had lived longer in captivity than any other killer whale, she was still young—no more than twenty. She might have lived fifty more years in the wild. Skana’s death left Hyak alone. He had come from Pender Harbour in 1968 as a small, frightened calf, and now he was a sexually mature male in need of a mate. Yet the acquisition of killer whales was no simple matter. The Department of Fisheries had stated that it would allow wild capture to replace orcas who died in captivity, but the Vancouver Aquarium hadn’t caught a killer whale since Moby Doll in 1964, and if it tried now, activists would surely oppose it. “I knew it would be unpopular for us to try to capture a live killer whale locally and felt a little frustrated about it,” Newman admitted. “To my mind, the entire awareness of the killer whales’ right to live was brought about by aquariums exhibiting these animals.” With nearby waters out of play, he looked to Iceland, which had become the primary source of captive orcas in recent years. After receiving the Canadian government’s permission to import whales, Newman boarded a plane for Iceland, arriving at Keflavik International Airport in the early morning of December 13, 1980.
The Legacy of Capture
Authors: Colby Jason M.
Published: November 2020

It was a quiet day in the summer of 1983 when the shots rang out in Robson Bight. Just minutes earlier, researcher Dave Briggs had been watching A4 pod visiting the rubbing beaches. The orcas had then headed in the direction of nearby purse seine vessels, and something had clearly gone wrong. Rushing down to the water, Briggs signaled a nearby whale-watching boat, which picked him up and motored out to investigate. Soon after, two orcas approached the vessel. It was the pod’s matriarch, A10, and her young calf, A47, both of whom had been shot. The horrified passengers watched as the injured mother pushed her child toward the tour boat. “We could see the wound oozing blood,” Briggs recounted. “It really seemed that she was showing us: Look what you humans have done.” Jim Borrowman learned of the shooting within minutes. An environmental activist and whale-watching entrepreneur based in nearby Telegraph Cove, he jumped into his Zodiac—a small, inflatable boat—and raced to the area. “I saw A10 with a bullet hole in the side of her face,” he recalled. “I just couldn’t believe it.” Over the years, Borrowman had seen many gunshot wounds on orcas, but this seemed a senseless act of violence reminiscent of an earlier era. Appearances aside, the incident underscored how far the human relationship with the species had come. No longer the indistinguishable black masses of the past, each orca in the Pacific Northwest now had an alphanumeric label, a family tree, and even affectionate nicknames. Once considered menacing pests, killer whales had become symbols of the region’s new environmental values and prime attractions for its tourist industry. Writing in the early 1980s, naturalist Erich Hoyt had little doubt that the display of killer whales at oceanariums had caused this shift. “The most important result of the captiveorca era has been the almost overnight change in public opinion,” he observed. “People today no longer fear and hate the species; they have fallen in love with them.”
Rethinking student success
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

In today’s education, occupational (economic) life is the focus of our attention. We want every child to succeed, and this has come to mean that every child should be pre­pared for college and the sort of work that requires a col­lege education. What of all the children who will become bus and truck drivers, retail sales clerks, appliance repair people, construction workers, materials handlers, heavy equipment operators, railway engineers and conductors, house painters, plumbers, bakers, farm workers, beauti­cians, postal workers, cooks, waiters, hotel clerks, house and office cleaners, auto mechanics and sales people, dog and horse groomers, telephone/ electric line work­ers, prison guards, hospital attendants, grounds keepers, maintenance workers, managers of laundromats and dry cleaning shops, installers of burglar alarms, carpet layers, window washers, steel workers, fishermen, sailors, cater­ers, cashiers, chimney sweeps, roofers, makers of china and glassware, decorators, musicians, florists, entertainers, moving men . . . and what would happen to our society if no one were willing to do this work? Do these people represent failures of schooling, or do we fail them when we lead them to believe that only economic success is suc­cess? Teachers and parents can lose perspective when achievement is narrowly defined. What messages are we sending students when grades, test scores, and academic achievement are the criteria for “success” during their twelve plus years of schooling? Many students who struggle in school thrive in their families, communities, and jobs once they leave school. For some, leav­ing school may be the first time they experience real success and a sense of personal, task- related satisfaction. As we teach them and before they leave us, have we given these “non- achieving” students hope that they will have the tenacity to excel? Confidence that they will find their path? Courage to trust their ability to figure it out? Many students struggle with undiagnosed anomalies that limit their capacity to learn school subjects. For those students whose minds cannot adjust to the “book learning” of schools, do we still communicate that we want the best for them? Do we let them know that they are worthy of our support and encourage­ment for their future? Do we let students know they are valued whether or not they meet our academic expectations?
Behaving respectfully
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

“Respect your elders.” “Show some respect.” “He’s my supervi­sor, I must respect him.” Respect is a feeling of esteem and admiration. Yet it is also a behavior, showing consideration and goodwill. These two manifestations of respect are important distinctions as we navi­gate relationships with others and choose our behaviors toward them. What we sometimes forget is that respect can simply be behaved. We can “behave our way into it.” We need not respect someone in order to behave respect­fully toward them. And it is the “behaving respectfully toward” that maintains the health of schools and school relationships. At times when we do not feel esteem toward another, we can “behave our way into” what is necessary and best. It is possible that respect more frequently involves behav­ior than attitude. For example, we may not have reason to feel respect toward everyone we encounter. How do we know strang­ers are worthy of our respect? Even for those who may not be worthy, we can behave respectfully toward them anyway. See the difference? How do we make a habit of behaving respectfully? We behave as if we respect a person. We behave as if the person respects us. We behave in a manner that the situation calls for. And we make choices to be considerate, to show the best of ourselves, even though the other may not have earned or deserved our respect. You may think adopting this calculated responsiveness aims to serve the other person. But it really serves us both. When we reserve judgment long enough to shift to behaving respectfully, we are the benefactors as much as the recipients are. We reframe negative assumptions. We give the benefit of the doubt. We sus­pend judgment. Each of these intentions serves our own mental, physical, and social health. Imagine the possibilities for schools if teachers, parents, administrators, and students learn that behaving respectfully is something we can all do. Imagine a habit of mind in which behaving respectfully is an automatic balm for our spirits: it bol­sters us, it gives us confidence, and it revitalizes our power to be generous and kind.
Praise in the classroom
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

If every time you walked into my classroom I handed you a dol­lar for no apparent reason, you might be initially surprised and happy. You might be curious about what you did to deserve the dollar. Then, as I gave you a dollar each day for the next two weeks, perhaps you would just shrug and say, “Well, she must think I did something to deserve this, and I won’t argue.” As the daily dollar gift continues, you find yourself beginning to count on that dollar for a snack after school or savings toward a bicycle. You don’t ask why I’m giving you this gift, and I don’t tell. Then one day I stop. When we are accustomed to receiving a reward, even if we are not sure we earned it, we can be startled and resentful when it stops. Somehow in our minds, the sudden absence of the expected reward gets interpreted as punishment (Bennett, 1988; Kohn, 1992). We have a conundrum when a motivator (praise and rewards) demotivates. Too easily, the indiscriminate reward of praise cre­ates mini- addictions in our students. The intent here is not to ban praise and rewards from class­rooms, but to use them with judicious, vigilant knowledge of their risks. Three aspects of praise help illuminate some of its risks. 1. Gradations of compliments. Students notice the varying levels of empty praise: “Very good,” “Excellent,” “Good attempt,” “Okay.” And they notice who consistently gets what praise. Substitute feedback that feeds: offer neutral, observational, and encouraging comments. 2. Oppositional behaviors. When we gush praise, thinking we are making students “feel good” and building self- esteem, we can often embarrass them instead. Teasing by classmates can prompt students to make errors to avoid a teacher’s overt praise. Offer mostly observational comments, praise in private, and avoid overstated and overenthusiastic responses to students’ efforts. Competition. Many of us were taught to say things such as “I like the way Angie is sitting” to garner student compliance, espe­cially for younger students.
Assertiveness as necessity
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Pre- service and early career educators often struggle with delivering a command. Stern expressions feel mean. Vocal volume feels mean. Directives feel mean. Yet assertiveness is necessary in schools and in life. And often the differences between assertiveness and aggression, cajoling and ordering, firmness and harshness need to be learned. Using “Sit down” as a practice directive can allow experi­mentation with changes in posture, volume, tone, and facial expressions that accompany the Five Levels of Assertiveness (Chapters 12– 16). When we know and can demonstrate appro­priate levels of insistence, we can send the messages we want and need to send, both in schools and elsewhere. Five guiding thoughts can contribute to being as assertive as necessary: 1. Support meaningful words with emotional confidence. Words may sound automated and disingenuous if they are detached from meaning. Speaking as if reading a script is ineffective and takes a toll on our sense of authenticity. Assertiveness levels 1 and 5 have us emoting fear and anger, respectively. Yet the statements of levels 2, 3, and 4 have us integrating emotion, intention, and wise words to evoke goodwill and healthy interactions. 2. Plan for how you want to feel afterward. When we imagine how we want to feel as a result of our encounter, we let those images guide our demeanor. Compassion and empathy can be a constant, heartfelt state of mind, but they need not be delivered with weakness. If we know we want to feel strong and empathic after an encounter, that awareness can manifest itself during the encounter. 3. Monitor intent. We can monitor our own words and feelings by asking, “What is my intent here?” If our intent is revenge, shaming (level 5), or disingenuous agreement (level 1), take time to reconsider and reword. 4. Practice. Initially it can be difficult to perfect the wording we want to use in tense or threatening situations. But like any other habit of mind, desirable words, feelings, and behaviors come more easily with practice. 5. Stay open. Effective assertiveness can be exhilarating. The strong and healthy middle levels of assertiveness (2, 3, and 4) are neither pandering nor punishing.
Assertiveness level 3
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

When the situation calls for a more assertive response than level 2, our face becomes more neutral, more detached. Our eyes shift from soft to neutral or slightly hard (see Chapter 25, “Eye Expressions”). The pace of our speech slows, and the pitch of our voice becomes less inflected. Our intent is to be clear and assertive in a way that needs little explanation. Our statement is brief, because the more words we use, the less effective our stance can become. Confidence in using level 3 provides us with a sliding scale for being as assertive as necessary. Whether our message is delivered in person, on the phone, or in writing, its meaning and intent are uncluttered and clearly stated. Sometimes we use level 3 when the assertive message of level 2 is not being received. A level 3 response is one that has us standing our ground in ways that levels 1 and 2 do not. Our state of mind when we convey level 3 assertiveness is calm, strong, and mildly commanding. Our message is both clear and succinct. Imagine an administrator saying to you, “I’ve heard some par­ent complaints about your discipline, and I’d like you to go easy on the kids for a while.” Many of us would have an immediate “hackles raised” reaction. In level 3, we may say with focused confidence and strength, “I’m always open to conversations about what and how I teach. How soon could we schedule an appointment so you can tell me what you’re thinking, and we can discuss this?” In and out of school, level 3 responses provide a way to be strong, not brash; clear, not sarcastic; forceful, not oppressive. Whether managing students, negotiating with authorities, solv­ing problems with a forceful parent, or replying to an angry stranger, we can maintain peace and power through our words and attitudes.
Cleaning up clutter
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

How messy are our lives at school? Sometimes the internal and external clutter steals our peace of mind, and we feel like hoarders in our own classrooms. At times, a good cleanup is just what we need to make a fresh start, renew our energy, and create a hopeful outlook. Look around. Is the desk overflowing with “stuff”? Are walls devoid of graphics, furniture in disarray, relationships strained, lessons falling flat, encounters with administrators more about resistance than openness? Look inside. Are you constantly ruminating about difficulties that seem never to be resolved? Is there ill will festering against students, faculty, parents, or administrators? If you’re feeling the clutter, the metaphoric “kitchen sink” cleanup may be just what is needed (Carroll, 2006). We begin by taking a first, strategic step toward cleaning the mess. If we walk into a dirty, messy kitchen, starting the cleaning process can feel overwhelming. Yet if we clean and prepare the sink first, we create a space for continuing to clean. One clean and tidy space gives us incentive to clean the rest of the kitchen. We see details previously unnoticed. We sort and put away. We may be eager to cook again. We feel optimism about possibili­ties for the future. We are more welcoming to guests. We feel more broadly reoriented in the world. What is your kitchen sink? Whether physical, personal, or social, finding and cleaning up your clutter can give you a new start. And taking those steps shows “a profound respect for the world . . . [B] eing precise and thorough and fresh . . . is the natu­ral thing to do”.
Stay you
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

One of the most important features of a treadmill is that we get to push the buttons. We choose to go faster or slower. We raise or lower the incline. We determine how much we are able to accomplish at any given time. Imagine that you have a treadmill in the hallway outside your room at school. Every time anyone walks down the hall, he or she can push any button on your treadmill. At any moment, you may be forced to walk or run, go up an incline or down. You may be forced to stop abruptly or run to the point of exhaustion. You may have a painful injury or medical condition unknown to oth­ers, but that does not influence the rigorous choices others make for you. This imaginary scenario is, of course, a metaphor for how we can be pulled out of ourselves and how we can allow others to mismanage us. Those who push our buttons do so with our tacit permission. At some level, we allow it. Being savvy about the metaphoric treadmills in schools means that we are sensitive to our own needs and knowledge­able about our own capacities. We can stay us. We can reclaim the best of us. We must divest ourselves from others who, intentionally or unintentionally, take control over us. Simply removing ourselves from the situation is sometimes best. Speaking up can clarify needs. Staying silent can allow us to resolve the matter without letting others know our struggle. Decide whether speaking up or choosing a silent solution is better for you. Stay you. Any time you can demonstrate your willingness to listen to someone with a minimum of self- defensiveness or criti­cism, you are cultivating virtues within yourself that have a high payoff in self- respect. Any significant personal change requires exactly this kind of courage: the willingness to feel uncomfortable while acting “as if” one is more mature and capable than one’s familiar self. (Rusk 1993, 70)
Context effect
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Comparing ourselves to other teachers can be deflating and discouraging. Yet who doesn’t do it? We notice her mutually warm relationships with students. We see his students’ stellar accomplishments at the science fair. We wonder how our team leader is able to help her students achieve the reading acumen they demonstrate. We envy the way the coach is able to tame even the most explosive tempers. Even though envy is troublesome, comparing ourselves too favorably to others is not the answer, either. The high is always temporary. The effect of context can hardly be overstated. And “con­text appropriateness” suggests that we recognize and adapt our expectations to the important differences in context that affect learning. Context can be an even more powerful influence on learning than age or development. Sometimes subtle and sometimes blatant, differences in the attributes listed here influence both our teaching and students’ learning. Physical attributes: class size, room size, room shape, room temperature, amount of equipment available, seating space and type, relative clutter or tidiness in room Temporal attributes: time of day, time of year, frequency and length of class meeting, interval between instructional times, classes or events directly preceding or following our lessons Teacher attributes: familiarity with students and community, number of classes and subjects taught per day, length of time in same school, years of experience teaching, access to professional development and mentoring Student attributes: familiarity with classmates, mix of characteristics (gender, ethnicity, language, economic status, age, special needs or exceptions), general interest and investment in learning Community/ school attributes: administrative and collegial respect and support, performance expectations, parental participation, community involvement and advocacy (Bennett & Bartholomew, 1997) Rebalancing views of ourselves and others based on the varying attributes of our teaching settings can ground healthy, realistic expectations. And that vibrant health can steer us toward reason­able professional goals and relationships.
Pitfalls of assuming
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Assumptions we make multiple times a day about others in our schools are necessary. Yet they also warrant a caveat. Assumptions can create a world of misjudgments and misery. When we make ourselves vulnerable to others’ behaviors, and when we believe our interpretations of what happened and why, we can become victims of our own suspicions . . . espe­cially when our conclusions are not accurate. Such oppressive assumptions cause us unrest and snuff out our vitality for being the teacher we want to be. 1. Team members laugh and talk as a group, but don’t include us. “They don’t invite me to join them. I don’t belong.” 2. A parent of our student is especially friendly with a co- worker. “He prefers that teacher over me.” 3. Our principal frequently asks the opinion of a co- worker, but never us. “She doesn’t see me as a leader in this school.” Have you noticed how easy it is to create an entire scenario based on one brief, chance encounter? Some of us are experts at story- making when we see others behaving in ways that we think reflect on us. If we do not stop this kind of assuming, we live at the whim of others’ behaviors and our own imaginations. And when we are in this mode of assuming, we often compare our insides to others’ outsides. Our imaginations and suppositions can rule us. And we can get so mixed up in assuming we know another’s intentions that we forget to question our own. Develop a propensity for ponder­ing. Placing a membrane of wisdom between us and others in schools can be a gift to us and to them. The next time we make an assumption about a person’s mood, intent, word choice, or friendliness, we can stop and think of two reasons our assumption could be wrong. • “They didn’t know that we wanted to be included in the shared, lighthearted moment.” • “We didn’t know that the parent and teacher work together on a neighborhood project.” • “We didn’t know that the principal and teacher took a course together about the issue being addressed.”
Rankism in schools
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

“Rankism,” as Fuller describes it, may not be a critical problem in schools. Yet some could benefit from knowing this “ism” and how it can manifest itself and destabilize relationships. As an assertion of superiority, rankism can be subtle or blatant and can serve as a framework to explain some behaviors that feel domi­nating or oppressive. • A co- worker treats his number of years teaching as license to prevail in making decisions about school practices. • A principal makes a unilateral decision without consulting the teachers it will affect. • Teachers behave with aloofness toward custodial teams and administrative assistants. Though perhaps subtle, each of these three events can send the message “I outrank you. So do what I say.” Imagine a scene where students are leaving your class. As you stand at the door, students file out. You stop Samuel, who has had chronic behavior challenges. “You were much better behaved today, Samuel. I’m proud of your improvement.” The confused when a teacher says, “These are your three friends for this activity.” Others may become resentful and angry. The social milieu of schools is both delicate and sturdy. What might be gained if we help students understand the differences between being a friend and being friendly? How might students benefit from knowing what being a friend means and what being friendly looks like? Rather than telling stu­dents (or anyone else) that they are friends, we can encourage them to be friendly. We can let them see where their preferences for friendships take them.
Privacy for us
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

It is difficult to know the consequences of sharing private information with co- workers. Even when our school friends are eager listeners, curious conversationalists, and supportive responders, it is judicious to think about our personal privacy. Many of us have had to learn a sense of privacy. Some of us do not think much about it. Ask, “What do I want to keep private about myself in my school?” “Do I monitor the stories and experiences (my own or others’) that I share with school staff?” “Do I acknowledge that listeners make assumptions about my life that I may never know have been made?” Very few confidants will be as careful with our words and our intentions as we are. Our acceptable boundaries for risky behav­iors, family habits, and health challenges may not match those of our school colleagues. Be savvy. Appropriately withholding infor­mation or diverting the focus in response to a personal question is not rude and may be judicious. A weekend trip to gamble, a potentially serious health diag­nosis, the intent to seek a new job— how do we decide what to keep private? Because our co- workers are our most frequent social group, do we feel free to share all our experiences, in schools and out? Unbridled openness can be risky for professional comport­ment and grounded personal behaviors. Once shared, private information cannot be unshared. Where do we draw the line for our personal privacy? Being strategic about privacy in schools is both wise and practical. We set our boundaries for the personal information we do and do not share with co- workers. And that line will likely move— indeed, perhaps it needs to be adjusted— with age and experience. Keeping a secret tends to have a “shelf life,” based on the memory, mood, and ethics of the listener. Consider making a dis­tinction between “school talk” and “home talk.” When we keep our personal lives private, we have a better chance of deciding what of our lives is and is not shared in schools. Maintaining personal privacy need not dampen or inhibit strong ties and warm relationships with colleagues. These important privacy decisions let us determine the parameters of our communications. When we live our lives with such wisely informed decisions, we feel strong, mature, and self- satisfied.
The wisdom of delay
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

In schools, the volume and frequency of questions and deci­sions can be smothering on some days. With fast- paced inqui­ries and lickety- split decisions, we may forget the value and necessity of pausing. • “I’ll get back to you about that.” • “Let me think about how I want to respond.” • “Tomorrow I’ll let you know what the consequences will be.” • “I’ll consider your request and let you know of my decision.” Replying immediately is not always a good idea. Whether react­ing to a proposal, an infraction, or a critical remark, delaying our reply can be wise. Of course, there are times when a delay may be inappropri­ate or ineffective. One way to choose is to take three seconds to decide whether a situation or a person is demanding an imme­diate response. Then make a judgment about how to offer the best response. • In response to a co- worker’s request to change a schedule or delay a project: “Let me consider what is involved with that change, and I’ll let you know shortly.” • A parent notifies you that her child will miss an upcoming, required event: “I’m startled to hear that. I want to consider the implications before I give you my response.” • An administrator expects you to discontinue your beloved annual school program: “This comes as a shock. I want to have a conversation about this, but not right now. I’ll make an appointment for tomorrow.” Brief postponement of a response can offer the strength of a deep breath, the perspective of further query, and the potential of a calm, reasoned rejoinder. Whether our delay is twenty- four minutes or twenty- four hours, we take time to craft our response. And we often feel the vivid sense of strength, centeredness, and power that results. For self- preservation, as well as fair- mindedness and even­handedness toward others, consider the wisdom of delay. Hesitation can have its benefits.
Aspire to excel
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

On some days teachers need to just “get by.” It’s self- preservation. But when we let this minimalist effort become our habit, we are giving up on our dreams. We didn’t become teachers just to get a job. We became teachers to shape young minds, to make the world a better place, to offer support and guidance to young people, to share our passion for learning, to bring life to our classes and our stu­dents. We aspire to educate. A teacher who “aspires to excel is almost by default a visionary . . . a leader”. Schools can breed challenges and spirit- breaking experi­ences. Yet becoming dispirited about mandates, regulations, procedures, testing, and standards is no reason to give up on our dreams for students. If anything, those are the times to buckle down and work harder. Bolster determination. Ignite students’ interest. Ballast emo­tions with resolve to be our best and do our best. These are the aspirations that revitalize us. When we aspire to excel we can reconfigure our attitudes and behaviors. We can aim to bring out the best in ourselves and others. Nine Ways to Excel in Schools 1. Start the day with intention. Be clear and simple about your resolve. 2. Hold on to the best of you. Use that as a starting point to recover your aspirations. 3. Ignite your energy in the classroom. Stimulate engagement and interactions. 4. Subdue your energy in the classroom. Stimulate quietness. Let students take the lead. 5. Prompt learning. Use unique, clever, and challenging ways to hook students’ interest. 6. Show yourself. Let others see your interest and verve for learning. 7. Shift your classroom persona. Be the teacher you most admire. 8. Treat your students the way you would want your own chil­dren to be treated. Show respect, curiosity, compassion, and loving expectation. 9. Read, study, and query others. Find best practices to energize your classroom.
I could be wrong
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

“I could be wrong.” How comfortable are you with making that statement? Sometimes we teachers develop a fear of being wrong. We may need to be right, to let others know when they are right, and to avoid or hide from being wrong. Other than with factual material, what is wrong with being wrong? Could we benefit, even a little, from exploring comfort with “I could be wrong”? Would it help us? Our interactions and self- assurance often change when we adopt a no- fear orientation toward wrongness. As uncomfortable as it may be initially, making peace with “I could be wrong” can have far- reaching benefits. • We settle into comfort with a variety of possible right answers. • We let go of our “fear of wrong” and stay open to additional interpretations. • We release our need to argue an opposing view; we let it pass by. • We shed the stress that comes with defending our rightness. • We free ourselves from minutiae that ultimately do not matter. • We help our students release distress associated with fear of wrongness. • We feel no competition to win our version of “rightness.” When there is no competition to be right, we can let go of the struggle. We are not worried or fretful, because our inquisitive orientation leads us to resolution. Our fear morphs into curiosity about others’ perspectives. We regain our vitality. We regain our courage. Rejecting opinions is not a requirement, because we are open to plural possibilities. We let potential mini- competitions dis­solve. We regain our sense of goodwill. Living “I could be wrong” can alleviate tension. We shed the dichotomy that “right” is strength and “wrong” is weakness. We no longer defend stances that may not matter. We open our­selves to curiosity about others’ opinions and recollections.
Beware of experts
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Some of us believe that experts know better than we do. And some of us believe “it ain’t necessarily so.” Ideally, we all have expertise with our subjects. We have stud­ied long and hard, and we continue to pursue professional devel­opment opportunities, wanting to get better and know more. Likewise, in the context of classrooms, we know our students better than nearly anyone. It is important to embrace the knowl­edge that we are the experts in our classrooms with our own students. Often, professionals attain the designation of expert through wide and varied exposure: publications, presentations, and edu­cational materials. All these avenues of visibility are impressive accomplishments and show dedication to the topic. Then why would we need to beware of experts? Experts, even self- appointed ones, tend to hold tightly to the ideas that earned them their stature. But that devotion to ideas can come at the expense of flexibility, necessary modification, and appropriate adaptability. What do we do when expert rec­ommendations do not match our knowledge of the needs of our students and schools? This can be a gnarly dilemma for sure. The vitality and wisdom of our own understandings can be tamped down when we are told to substitute expert opinion for our own. And what do we do when experts change their minds? How are teachers informed of the new adaptations or the faulty logic of the required program? Good ideas can go awry. Good ideas are rarely a panacea. Caution about wholeheartedly adopting expert recommenda­tions is based in the reality that we are the ones most knowl­edgeable about our classrooms, schools, and communities. When we pair informed caution with fervent searches for best practices, we place expert opinion where it belongs. We vigor­ously pursue the best for our students, whether that best comes from us or expert opinion. Seek expert opinion. Watch for wisdom. Weigh the viability for your students, in your classes, at your school. Self- determination implies that we have choice- making skills that allow us to consider similar and disparate points of view and that we assume responsibility for the choices we are making.
Responsive professionalism
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

“Professionalism.” A definition of this important term and con­cept for comportment in schools can be a bit elusive. Yet some of us spend our careers aiming to achieve and sustain the qualities that make us professional. Professionalism suggests the expectation of being an informed, competent, proficient, and knowledgeable teacher. For some, professionalism also means a standard of attire or appearance. Sensitivity toward off- limits topics and potentially volatile issues in schools can be another aspect of the honorific “She is very professional!” Being a responsive professional may be a bit more specific. For schools to be their most efficient and cooperative, we edu­cators pay attention to our standard of professionalism. We sus­tain a conscience and a conscientiousness about all facets of the school community. In addition to general commitments such as ethical treatment and behaviors, some more subtle choices can set the standard for professional conduct. • Do we reply to communications and deadlines in a timely and thorough manner? Emails, texts, and requests from school personnel deserve a prompt reply, even when we think they don’t. If the response must be delayed, write a reply stating that, and let the sender know when to expect the response. We can cause distress and frustration when we do not respect the timelines others need to make. Sometimes we compro­mise their responsibilities to others when we delay ours. • Do we prepare our written work with meticulous attention to accuracy and appearance? The work we produce— reports, proposals, emails, notes to parents, and so on— is a signature statement of our professionalism. Proofread for accuracy and clarity. • Do we take a very cautious approach to participating in non- school- related activities during school hours? Taking and making private calls, sending personal messages, running errands, interacting on social media, or doing personal busi­ness during school hours may be considered mismanagement of time at best, and a breach of ethics at worst. Be savvy about what you do and do not do with your time at school. Schools and teaching ask the best of us. Students and parents deserve the best of us. Pursue high expectations. Savor the exper­tise you embody when you practice responsive professionalism.
Compassion and happiness
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Teachers are among the most compassionate people on the planet. The foundation of our work is caring. We care about people: who they are as students and who they will be as adults. Compassion is “a mental attitude based on the wish for others to be free of their suffering” Compassion compels us to act, but it does not necessarily come easily to all of us. Caring can seem arduous; it can take effort to monitor and revise our reactions to others. Few other professions have workers who feel and display such compassionate attention to so many, every day, over the course of their careers. Some of us enter the profession with boundless compassion; others of us have to learn compassion as situations arise that call for us to show it. And given the amount of tragedy and suffering we are exposed to, how can we muster the ability to show compas­sion? When difficulties threaten, many of us want to bear down, sharpen our defenses, and toughen our resistance. “No matter how much violence or how many bad things we have to go through, I believe that the ultimate solution to our conflicts, both internal and external, lies in returning to our basic or underlying human nature, which is gentle and compassion­ate” (Dalai Lama & Cutler, 1998, 56). The Dalai Lama believes that compassion is the key to hap­piness. Demonstrating our compassion for others can be an antidote to the separateness we sometimes feel. In small, quiet ways, we can show compassion and contribute to a school- wide sense of kinship and affinity.
A practice of playfulness
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Even when we are not playing, our playful attitudes and behaviors can be a boon to learning and an antidote to discouragement. Appropriate lighthearted interactions in schools can be “mood vitamins” that serve both the senders and receivers. • The faux scold. Students noisily shove and run to the shelves to get their books. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I said ‘Grab your books.’ ” • Permission to exude. Students follow the lead of a giggler with loud, enthusiastic laughing. “Okay, this noise level is hurting my ears. Take five seconds to get the giggles out so we can continue.” • The subtle cease. Teachers angrily and endlessly complain about a thorny district issue that may prompt a teacher strike. “Okay, this lunchroom talk is disturbing my digestion.” • The disposition shift. Teachers begin sniping over their ped­agogical differences. “Aren’t these students fortunate to have such an array of teachers as us!” (Bennett & Suarez, 2016, p. 13) A “practice of playfulness” has us being lighthearted, sometimes slightly self- effacing, ready to smile with easy humor, but not at another’s expense. We offer quippy comments that are momen­tary connections with friends and strangers. When we notice the charm in others’ behaviors, we can infuse our interactions with easygoing banter. Important here is to stress what playfulness is not. It is not the teacher telling jokes, entertaining, dominating the lesson, or being sarcastic. Instead, playfulness is eagerness to teach with curiosity, engagement, and repartee. If playfulness becomes too clever, too dramatic, or too distracting, students’ rowdiness may esca­late rather than engage. See what happens with an occasional scattering of playful­ness throughout your day. Adopting this practice in life, even in the midst of harshness or impatience, can revitalize mood, atti­tude, energy, and ultimately healthy communication for us and for those around us. A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play, his labour and his leisure, his mind and his body, his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing, and leaves others to determine whether he is working or play­ing.
Paranoia pandemic
Authors: Bennett Peggy D.
Published: November 2020

Like a sickness, paranoia can destroy goodwill and relation­ships in schools. It takes so little, at times, to ferment suspi­cion of intentional ill will. Once we begin to suspect something is amiss, we look for confirmation. We look for evidence that someone is doing harm to our reputation or sabotaging our relationships. We experi­ence one betrayal or infraction, and we can’t let go of viewing someone through that lens. Surprisingly, when we look so hard for evidence of harm, we can usually find it, even when it does not exist. • Certain members of your teaching team begin gathering for happy hour, but not all are invited. You begin suspecting that they plan to propose sweeping changes to the department. • Your tenure is pending. When a teacher who serves on the tenure committee sighs, “It’s been a rough day” as he leaves the meeting, you begin worrying that trouble is lurking for your future at the school. • You notice a teacher and a student standing alone in the hall­way, and as you approach, they both stop talking and look embarrassed and uncomfortable. You wonder if their suspi­cious behavior hints at an unethical relationship. At times of high- stakes turmoil, paranoia can become pandemic in schools. It is up to individuals to guard against it. What do we do when paranoia lurks? • Use “second thoughts” to disprove your opinion. • Dismantle the thinking that can blind you to innocent or less sensational interpretations. • Calmly and confidently ask the person you have concerns about if there is a problem, or if you are misinterpreting some behaviors or actions. • Strengthen yourself by knowing that you can make amends for any misunderstandings. • Reconnect with your honor and good intentions. Renewed affirmations of vitality are the benefits of these actions. We feel our powerful spirit return to us, and our aliveness signals our revived personal strength.