Lessons I learned at NIEA Convention in Hartford

When one People wish to dominate another People they often use genocide to strip them of their identity, their land, their language, their freedom, their religion, and their lives.
Colonists to this continent practiced genocide on the Native People.
This week I was honored to attend the National Indian Educator Association Convention in Hartford as part of the AFT delegation of educators, which included Jan and Mary Cathryn.
Honored because I am neither Native American nor an educator.
As I attended the educational sessions and spent time with my new AFT friends, I started to better understand the challenges they face in the classroom and how they approach those challenges.
Some of them are similar to all our educators and some are unique to them.
Just as I cannot fully understand what it takes to stand in the front of a classroom and teach, I cannot fully understand the impact genocide has played on other Peoples.
But I can begin to when I listen with an open heart.

To be sure, it was not the only time in history that genocide has been used by colonists to this continent.
And it continues.
Perhaps not as blatantly obvious now, but every time a person of color, a women, a member of the LBGTQ community, a speaker of a foreign language, or anyone else is discriminated, or held down in any way, it is being practiced.

One night, at dinner, I was asked how, as a white man, I seemed to understand the perspectives of the others in the room.
I’m not sure I truly do, but to the extent it is true, I think it’s because of how I was raised.
My parents taught us that all people are all the same, although they may go to a different church, have different color skin, speak a difference language, etc.
We were also taught that when our ancestors came from Ireland, they faced discrimination on this continent.
Years latter, I would learn that the English had stolen our language, our religion, and our land in our home country.

The question I ask myself is not how I, as a white man. can at least try to understand.
The question I ask myself is how can other white men cannot begin to understand.
All of us are immigrants to this continent and most of our Peoples have faced discrimination at some point in our history.
But many us seem to have forgotten.

Not surprising that I learned lessons at the convention.
It’s what educators do.

Thank you to AFT for this opportunity.
Thank you to my AFT sisters and brothers for sharing their time, their experiences, and their culture with me.
I hope you will all return to Connecticut, the Land of the long tidal river, often.
You are always welcome.

Thoughts on the Kavanaugh hearing

The Kavanaugh hearings had me fired up.
I wrote a blistering blog about his demeanor during his testimony, Trumps remarks about Dr Ford, about how America had once been a model for other nations to emulate, and about what we needed to do to get back there.
It was good.

Then I sat down to watch “Won’t you be my neighbor?” the story of Fred Rogers.

Mr Rogers tried to teach us that we were special just the way we are.
He told us to find the good in you and me.
Which reminded me of a song written by Dick Holler and first recorded by Dion, “Abraham, Martin and John.”

It was written in 1968 after the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy.
It speaks to a time of sadness and grief, both for these 2 men and for what they stood for.
We didn’t know if this was the end of the dream of a better society. The country was at war and there was great racial division at home.

Dion’s words reminded us that we had been here before.
Lincoln, Jack Kennedy, King, and Bobby…….
Didn't you love the things they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?

All assassinated.
Yet the struggle for justice lives on…..
And we'll be free,
Someday soon it's gonna be one day.

In his own way, Mr Rogers told us to find the good in you and me, and to accept each other just the way we are. He taught tolerance, not hatred; and at the same time, for standing up for principles.
He also taught that it’s not an easy road, but it is the right one.
Abraham, Martin, John and Bobby paid the ultimate price for what they stood for.

Hatred will always try to divide.
We can’t beat it with more hatred.
We beat it by knowing what we stand for and not giving up on the dream.

Didn't you love the things they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?
And we'll be free,
Someday soon it's gonna be one day.

http://youtu.be/a5hFMy4pTrs 

Graduation Day

Breast cancer has played an enhanced role in my life recently.

A few weeks ago, a friend and mentor lost her battle to it.

Thursday, my friend and work partner “graduated” from chemotherapy.

When the nurses of the cancer center rounded the corner, pomp and circumstances playing on the iPhone, with a “graduation certificate” and gifts, it was extra special.

After a year of chemo, radiation, and surgery, she is done.

While there is further treatment with medication and while the future cannot be guaranteed, her chemo is finished and her prognosis is good.

She had some tough times this past year, but the love of her family, friends, and caregivers, and her own inner strength and faith, carried her through. 

Ashley, her primary infusion nurse, was supposed to have Thursday off.

She changed her schedule so that she could be there for the last day.

That kind of care, that blend of skill and compassion, that ability to assess and react to both complex, ever changing medical conditions, and the ability to treat the patient’s emotional needs with empathy, are what makes me proud to be a nurse.

It is also what makes me proud to serve as an officer of AFT Connecticut and VP to my friend and work partner. Our members, in healthcare, education, and public service, practice this blend of skill and compassion every day.

My work partner understands this and leads by it.

Elizabeth Glenn Scott

I met Elizabeth Glenn Scott (Glenn) in 2011 when she came to Backus as an AFT National Rep to help us organize.  

We spent hours in the car driving the roads of eastern Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts visiting nurses.  After each visit, Glenn would gently debrief with me, offering constructive criticism to improve my skills.  She was so good at this and so gentle that I didn’t realize until afterwards how she was coaching me.  

She was with me when a nurse told us why she was joining the union, not because of financial concerns because the hospital had removed the peanut butter from her floor, simply to save a few bucks. Peanut butter that she would give to chemo patients.

Glenn was a friend and mentor.

She was also a breast cancer patient.

Glenn and I didn’t see each other often after that organizing drive but we stayed in touch, with FB, texts, emails and calls, especially when something major happened in our lives.

I told her when I became AFT CT VP and when Jan was diagnosed.

I was with Jan when I got the message of her passing.  Glenn had lost her battle with cancer.

It hit me hard.

When I asked at our Delegate Assembly for her to be remembered, Jan had to finish my sentence. I couldn’t get the words out.

I dedicated my community service this week to her. She had been proud that we had been arrested for social justice.

Yesterday, after a morning of Labor to Labor door knocking, Michelle and I went to an Ed Sheeran concert. 

One of his songs include the following words: 

“Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes

But it's the only thing that I know

When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes

It is the only thing makes us feel alive”

We make ourselves vulnerable when we follow our hearts.

It’s safer not to care too much.

But it’s not better.

Glenn followed her heart.

That’s what made her a good friend, a mentor, and an activist.

Labor Day

Labor Day is a day to live up to the code of the great Labor Leader, Mother Jones, who said famously,
“Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.”
This Labor Day, let’s rededicate ourselves to that cause.

So many people have fought to advance the voice of workers, both in Organized Labor, in politics, in religious life, and from the community.  Many are well know and many others are simply rank and file members, regulars workers.
Remember them all.
Pray for them all.
Whatever gains we have, we owe to them.
Let us never forget the sacrifices they made for us, some even the sacrifice of their own lives on the picket lines.

So remember, and pray, but even more…..honor them.
Honor them by continuing their work.
There is much to do.
While the stock market does well, while incomes at the top of the wage scale soar, workers at the bottom continue to struggle.
An article in my local paper today points to a United Way report that shows more workers living on the edge, paycheck to paycheck.
The reason?
Their salaries for a full weeks work do not pay a living wage.
They struggle all week, yet make too little to put a roof over their head and food in their children’s bellies.
While we give massive tax cuts to the wealthy, the working poor suffer more.

ORGANIZE! My Labor friends say.

I agree, I agree.  Forming or joining a union gives a collective voice for workers, it improves lives.
But I also know the struggles of organizing.
While I have thankfully never had a Pinkerton Man bust my head with a billy club on the line, I know of facing union busting tactics. My colleagues at Backus know the feeling of standing up to a hostile, anti-union management and we know that we could not have been successful without the guidance and support of those who came before us, those already organized.

Our collective responsibility as workers is to remember the dead and fight like hell for the living.
We owe it to those who sacrificed for us, we owe it to the workers of today, and we owe it to the children of tomorrow.

We can do it.
There is a wave of worker activism sweeping the nation.  More and more of us are running for and winning political office. More and more of us are organizing into unions everyday. More and more of us are gaining a voice.
It is not easy but it is possible, and it is happening.

So on this Labor Day let us rededicate ourselves to the work ahead.
Solidarity my sisters and brothers!
Happy Labor Day!