Rod Paige. Semper
Fi
So, Rod Paige, the Secy of Education under President Bush, is handing in his resignation.
He struck me as a decent man.
Heard him speak
many times. Barely
hid his contempt for the ed establishment.
I believe he cared deeply for kids
and wanted to remove some of the burden of insane "practices" from
the backs of teachers.
Mr. Paige reminded me of several
black friends I've had over the years.
Elegant and wise
in the ways of African kings.
Knowing much about suffering and
endurance, but burdening neither himself nor his listeners with stories he
already knew and which they wouldn't understand.
Choosing instead to live a life of
dignity and work for the good.
Anthropos agathos
kai aristos. Good man, and best, if I got it
right.
Some
progressive (establishment) deaducators and
their supporters [kakomehkhanos = contriving evil]
were ecstatic when they heard the news.
Thinking that No Child Left Behind
and Reading First (and then math first and
science first) would be dead [nekros] with Mr. Paige
gone, and they could go back to biz as usual--i.e., piffle and pageantry--with
no fear [phobos] of exposure.
Is that a life? Of cowardice? [kakia]
Afraid--perhaps because unable--to argue against critics (anti-establishment)
who accuse them of destroying the future of our most vulnerable children?
How could they defend themselves. Can they show
that when teachers DON'T teach (but instead "facilitate") poor kids
learn a whole lot? How DO they explain that although kids k-2 may
look fine on qualitative whole language "assessments" (which measure
guessing and memorization, not reading), they somehow can no longer read in the
higher grades? [Maybe it's ''cause there arent
any pictures cues any more.]
Manikins. [anthrawpion]
Let us swear an oath, and keep it
with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to
live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
[From Tennyson's The Lotus Eaters]
I wish him well....
There lies the port; the vessel
puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with
me–
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads–you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
[Tennyson's Ulysses]