We are All Failed by Failing Schools

If you think that what you have seen above is only an American problem, think again. I wish I could say that I live in a country where all young people regardless of the social, economic or educational status of their parents are able to receive the same educational opportunities but I do not. Neither do my friends in the United Kingdom or the Republic of Ireland.

I wish that all kindergarten children could see their future as a blank canvas and that the educational system could give them every colour of the rainbow to paint their lives with. I wish that every child could see their school as a refuge and a place of hope rather than a prison, locking them into the circumstances assigned to them at birth. I wish that all schools, all school administrators and teachers were equipped with the resources to provide students with a student-centred education that would allow our young people to find and pursue their talents. I wish that we lived in a country where no parent or teacher ever had to tell a child that they are setting their sights too high and that their dreams are impossible because of their family’s economic resources. I wish that in our low-income communities and working class neighbourhoods success was the rule and not the exception, just as it is in middle and upper class Canada.

These wishes can never become realities in a country that is content with a failing school system in dire need of not just minor repairs but radical reforms. But sadly those who would most greatly benefit from a new way of thinking about education in Canada (and the United States, and the United Kingdom, and the Republic of Ireland…) are currently unable and/or unwilling to demand change. Even sadder, those elected officials who have been given the tremendous power to not just demand but create these changes on their behalf are not doing so. Perhaps if children of our politicians had to attend failing schools this would change, but what could ever convince a parent to place educational limitations on his or her own child when other options are available to them?

Whether someone on the campaign trail is able to appeal to Joe the plumber or not, when would they ever choose to walk not just a mile but 14 years (the time from the beginning of Junior Kindergarten in Ontario to high-school graduation) in the shoes of an unemployed dockworker or a single mother with a family of four?

Have our politicians looked at Canada’s economic picture? Joe the plumber may as well be Bill Gates in comparison to Joyce the Wal-Mart Greeter. My guess would be that Joe wouldn’t let his children go to the school that Joyce’s children go to – and if he did he would probably feel pretty bad about it. Not that Joyce doesn’t know that her children’s school is failing them but when she is working 60 hours a week and still fighting to keep the electricity company at bay, she doesn’t have much time to research her other options now does she? And even if she makes the effort to make the time she just can’t make the money needed to pay the round trip bus fair to send her kids to the better school 3 miles away because that is too far for her 8 and 11 year-old to walk on their own.

My mother has recently written on the issue of fundraising in schools, one that has been in the news over the past month in Ontario. But really fundraising is only the tip of the iceberg. Limiting or eliminating fundraising for essential items (textbooks, science equipment etc.) alone is not going to lead to educational equality. Stopping fundraising all together is still not going to lead to educational equality, even though that would mean that per-student levels of funding would be equal across schools. It can’t be enough, not in a country where some schools are already so far ahead of the pack that it would take decades and decades of equal financial input for other schools to catch up. And, I’m pretty positive that even when the catch up would occur it wouldn’t be because the other schools would have been getting that much better, but because the former leading schools would be getting that much worse. What is the value of equality when it means that all children would be getting an equally terrible education?

What we need is a revolution across the province, the country and much of the English-speaking developed world (I do not know enough about the education systems in other countries to be able to comment on them). And this revolution needs to start with us. All of us. We need to stand up and stand together for real change in education because even if we are no longer in school, our children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews are or will be. We need to join this revolution because every day we ignore the problem we lose another person who could cure cancer, bring peace to the nations, write the great Canadian novel or become the greatest Prime Minister we’ve ever seen to a failing school.

For those parents whose children are in fantastic schools, with high standardized testing results, wonderful fulfilled teachers and textbooks younger than the teaching staff, you may be concerned that taking part in this revolution will devalue the advantages that you too have worked so hard to give your children. But I promise you that it will not.

Making all schools good schools will allow all parents, rich and poor, to regain agency in the rat race that is education. It will mean better schools for all children, including your own, schools that will better prepare children for the world that they will be living and working in rather than the one in which your grandparents existed.

Not a day goes by where I do not think about and am not completely humbled by the tremendous sacrifices (and I really do mean tremendous) that my father and mother have made to allow me to obtain a university education, and the significant sacrifices that I have had to make towards the same ends. It is because of this gratitude that I will not rest until no father ever has to take a second job to send his daughter to a different public (state) school with the hope that this change might one day land a full scholarship to allow for progression to post-secondary education. But even with their support (which was more emotional rather than financial as I started university) and a full scholarship I graduated with a debt load so high that the thought of ever owning a car, let alone a house, is merely a pipe dream.

The time is now to write to our elected officials expressing our concerns, to write letters to the editor and to diligently expose the inequalities of our school systems. The time is now to not only demand change at a governmental level, but to create it from the grassroots up – transforming the spirit of our schools and, by extension, the spirits of our students.

Over the coming weeks and months, I will be providing you with more concrete opportunities to make a difference. Please help where you can.

Past the What and Into the Who

My sister is just going into her second year of high school. Every time I talk to her, though she doesn’t realize it, she teaches me a tremendous amount about life and about survival.

When principals, teachers and, unfortunately, even parents talk about the problem of bullying in their schools and in the lives of the children that they spend every day with, there is a strong group that tries to dismiss bullying as a constant. Bullying is just something that has happened since time immemorial, unfortunate and unpleasant but something that children need to get used to, something they need to grow a thicker skin about and move on from. But clearly the people making these arguments haven’t lived through 21^st century high school as a walking target. I’m willing to venture a guess that many of them have probably never been bullied, but then again maybe they have because it can be the bullied who are least sympathetic to their fellow victims.

The reason I say this is because even though I was bullied when I was in elementary school (though never as bad as many people I know) I often find the same words I was told, and that I hated so much to hear, coming out of my mouth when talking to my sister. “Suck it up.” “Don’t let it get to you.” “Stop being such a baby.” “Just let it roll.” It’s only now that I’m realizing that these words could have, and probably did, cause as much pain as the insults, the slurs, the put downs and the rejections from the bullies.

When I was a kid I had two obvious targets for potential bullies – my weight (I’ve always been very heavy despite the fact that I have always been extremely sporty and physically active) and the fact that I come across as rather androgynous (I’ve always worn gender non-specific clothing and have had interests not traditionally associated with little girls). I’m sure you can guess some of the names I was called and the taunts shouted at me. However, I was extremely lucky. I was always quite well-liked by my classmates and there was a strong core of us who had known each other since what seemed like before we born. That I was so sporty probably also helped more than it harmed because there were very few people that wanted to take on the football team to pick on me. By the time I was in high-school bullying had mostly become a distant memory. I was comfortable in my own skin and with who I was which meant that trying to bully me would have been more or less futile.

The same can’t be said for my sister. Since she was in probably second or third grade her torment at the hands of her peers has been relentless. She didn’t have the benefit of the same kind of friend stronghold I had (I don’t even know if it’s possible to build something as good anymore) so she also had to face it utterly alone. 6 hours a day every day for the past 7 years, she has had to live in the lions den. Thanks to Facebook, MSN, cell phones etc. even the 22 hours of relative security she could have once expected have all but eroded away. My sister is one of the kindest, most loving young women I have ever met. I am so proud to have had the chance to grow up alongside her. Along with this enormous heart, she’s got quite a wit on her and a set of pipes that can rival Beyoncé (though she sounds so much more like Taylor Swift). *Note these comparisons don’t come lightly, as I am also one of her strongest critics. We couldn’t have more different personalities, but I know that I always want her on the front lines with me.

Yet despite this innate kindness, humour and strength she is torn to shreds by her peers on a daily basis. I’ve watched as she struggled, and now though I watch mostly from afar, the little glimpses of her life that I see when I go home to visit are enough to make me wish I could just bring her back with me, give her a fresh start and try to show her that there are good people in the world.

It was when she was in 7th/8^th grade that I started to really notice her change. Her beautiful smile didn’t come so easily anymore and I knew the years of “Suck it up”, “Don’t take it so personally”, “Try to blend in”, “Don’t make yourself a target then” were beginning to take their toll. Yet I couldn’t stop – I didn’t know what other advice to give, my own experience being bullied already an old memory. She started to believe that it really was her that was the problem – that she wasn’t good enough for her world (when really her world has never been good enough for her). She tried so hard to change herself to fit in – to take away the reasons others were picking on her. But for every reason she was able to take away those around her only found 10 more. She changed schools – but alone and friendless in a new school she was once again an easy target. That’s the thing with bullying – it’s impossible once you’ve been identified as a target to ever become invisible.

There is only so much anyone can take before their heart begins to harden, before kindness, even to the kindest heart, becomes an impossibility. There is only so much pain that anyone can hold in their hearts before the light in their eyes dies and before meanness becomes a matter of survival not a matter of choice.

But my sister, for the most part, has stayed so remarkably strong. Every time I see her, I always get the biggest smile and hug which for 10 seconds when she says hello can make me forget every problem I have. I think we all know that 10 seconds are more than enough time to save a life. I can’t help but wonder how many other lives she could save if only given the chance.

I can’t help but worry though how she’ll make it through the next 3 years. Now that I’ve gotten to the other side I know that life is nothing like high school – it’s not just the meek, but the freaks and geeks as well who inherit the earth. Even though I try to remind her constantly, when every day is a struggle it’s so hard to see the big picture – or even to think past the next 24 hours.

I think the worst part of this is my sister’s story is not unique. It’s not even one of the worst. They are so many young people you have not only lost their light, but their lives because someone in the second grade thought they had a silly haircut, because they are good (or bad) at maths or because someone just needed a person to pick on to make their own pain go away. This isn’t my parents bullying – this isn’t even my bullying – what kids and teens today are facing is something out of us older folks’ nightmares. Round-the-clock torment from schoolmates intent on not just pain but destruction in combination with family stresses and pressures as well as the normal strains of growing up is more than any child, teenager or human being should ever have to face.

This needs to change. First of all we need to stop telling kids to “Suck it up”. In fact that phrase should be banned. Secondly those being bullied are not the ones who are ‘wrong’. We can’t let this whole generation of young people think that there is only one way to be accepted in society. Thirdly we need a paradigm shift.

We need to recognize people not for what they are, but for who they are.

This means tossing aside the labels both that we judge others against and that we define ourselves by: pretty, ugly, fat, thin, short, tall, Catholic, Jew, geek, Muslim, Arab, WOP, nerd, Irish, gangsta, gay, straight, bi, chick, dude, freak, loser, queen bee, mean girl, jock, stoner, lady, wuss, loner, spooner.

This isn’t going to be easy – this is our entire way of categorizing people, especially in high school. But for every modicum of ease these labels bring about for people deploying them, they create one ton of lost potential, pain and humiliation. They allow people to be reduced to one aspect of themselves – something they often can’t change – and allow people to ignore all of the other parts that make us human beings such complex and wonderful creatures.

These three things are the challenges that I am placing before myself, from this moment forward. I hope that you will join me. We may not be able to change the whole world on our own, but we can do it together.