Campaign, As seen online

Between Hurricane Sandy and the upcoming election, the Interwebs are stirring up a storm – or two. Or three. Let’s browse.

From Twitter:

Conservatives to women: Stop whining about your rights! Get over it! from Daisy: Then stop making ridiculous laws that take my rights away! Remember, I am woman, and I vote. 

 Looking forward to actual bailout of Wall Street. from Daisy: LOL! Grab a bucket!

Really respect Clinton for taking POTUS’ campaign so he can monitor storm & aftermath. from Daisy: Are you sure he’s not just looking for those binders full of women? 

Ann Romney: We Need To ‘Throw Out’ The Public Education System. Daisy: Ann, get real. I dare you to say that to a few parents of special needs kids – you won’t be standing when they’re done.  

As seen on Plurk: 

Apparently I’m not even allowed to schedule committee meetings without administrative approval… Daisy replies: remember, a zebra is a horse designed by committee. 

Today In History 1966 – National Organization for Women (NOW) was founded Daisy: today, history in the making, we need the NOW as much as we ever did.

From a Plurk friend in London: when is the US election over with? Daisy answers: early voting has already started. Official election day is November 6. When will it be over? That depends. If it’s like 2000, it’ll be over in December – if the Supreme Court says so.

From Friends on Facebook: 

I am continually baffled that anyone with a working brain can vote for this guy. Daisy adds: I’m with you. (walks away humming “If I only had a brain”)
Seriously, how can they say they are for us, the American people, and yet they buy foreign?? Unbelievable!!!! Daisy: I’ve seen photos like this that were photoshopped. I’m not ready to accuse the Romney campaign of buying their goods overseas – but I’ll sure talk about how that’s where the jobs have gone!
I won’t touch the long and emotionally loaded conversations that are going on right now courtesy of my college classmates. We liberal arts grads know how to argue and support our positions, and our Facebook posts show it. I’ll close with yet another reminder of the potential danger of letting the Tea Party Conservatives pass their dream laws: 

‘Nuff said.

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Sights around the campaign office

Back in my little corner of the offices, there was a small area set up for canvassing school. Our trainers will train anyone who volunteers. Folks who usually train were busy doing other work this time. I was entering data from a recent phone bank.

Many were busy handling the crowds that had lined up at the door and around the streetcorner for tickets to President Obama’s upcoming appearance. Our campaign coordinators knew what they were doing. They had one door for an entrance, lines on the floor in blue tape, and volunteers at every bend in the line.

line for tickets

The line was diverse. Men, women, black, white, Hispanic, old, young, and —

Service Dogs for Obama

— furry and four legged fans. Support for the President crosses all boundaries. It’s too bad intelligent dogs like this one can’t vote.

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Putting the Garden to Bed for the winter

It’s a bittersweet day when I finish putting the garden to bed. It means that I’ve given up on any more warm spells, I’ve harvested every last tomato and pepper, and I’m nearly ready to open the garden gates to let the rabbits forage through the months we call winter.

The tie-ups are removed, sitting in a pile in the garage so they can dry. I’ve never seen the point in washing them. They’ll dry over the winter and be ready for tying up a whole new batch of seedlings next summer. The tomato supports are set aside, too, resting against the garage near the rain barrels. The barrels need to be emptied and upended so they won’t freeze and break in the winter temperatures. That will happen tomorrow or Sunday if all goes as planned.

                colorful tomato supports

I gave in and stocked up on acorn and butternut squash at last week’s downtown farmers’ market. Stored properly, the squash will last a long time. Now that I’ve discovered Amigo likes squash, I’ll cook it more often. This young man likes very few vegetables. I sense a butternut squash soup coming up soon!

                                          squash and apples

The raspberry patch will weather the weather well and the aforementioned rabbits will prune any or all of it for me. I pretend they’re doing it to say thanks for the winter food source. Really, they’re probably laughing through their teeth at the silly human who thinks she’s doing them a favor, these small furry creatures who’ve been finding weak spots in the fence all summer long.

The mini-greenhouse shelving is indoors now. The sage and parsley weren’t doing well, so I might replant them. The basil that went wild has been picked, processed with a little olive oil, and frozen. The oregano, rosemary, and thyme are still thriving. I hope they last! I sense a few homemade pizzas with fresh herbs in our future.

It’s a mixed feeling, indeed, saying goodbye to the plants I’ve nurtured from seed. But don’t worry, readers, it’s not a true blue funk or melancholy. Putting the greens down to rest isn’t the end; it’s a new beginning. I’m already planning which tomatoes to plant next year, which peppers, and where they’ll go to use the soil to its best advantage. Speaking of soil, I’d like to stir the compost one more time. The heat in the middle will keep it decomposing so I can dig it out and spread it in the spring.

Until we get a long lasting freeze, the parsley is still trying to grow.

                                                            parsley

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Freedom – is health part of the picture?

I enjoy reading Chris Guillebeau’s Art of Non-Conformity blog and newsletters. His outlook on the world differs from mine only in its implementation. His writing resonates with me on many levels. A recent post titled “What is Freedom?” made me (as usual) think and analyze my situation and life.

Don’t worry, dear, I don’t plan to leave my job anytime soon. 

Freedom means different things to different people. For Chris, freedom means being self-employed and in control of his own destiny. For many in my circle of friends, freedom means security, health insurance, and the ability to pay our children’s college tuition. For my women peers, age-wise and academically similar to me, freedom means knowing we’re healthy and that we can get the treatment we need no matter what.

Regular readers know that women’s access to health care, appropriate health care, and the ability to make health care decisions based on medical needs rather than narrow-minded poorly-written legislation is — off soapbox, Daisy, this post is meant to go in another direction. It’s related, of course, but it’s not an election post (for the most part).

Regular readers also know that I’m a strong advocate of vaccines in general and influenza vaccines (flu shots). I’ve discussed the impact of a flu epidemic on local health, but let’s analyze a different angle this time: the impact of widespread illness on education.

It seems logical, and yet people forget. Anyone in a classroom full of students is vulnerable to catching the flu. Anyone, that is, including students, teachers, para-professionals, secretaries, and anyone else who breathes the same air and touches the same surfaces. And when the dominoes start to fall, each one knocks another into yet another. And then —

  • Students get behind in school.
  • Teachers adjust their instruction to accommodate multiple absences, usually slowing the pace significantly.
  • More students fall ill, falling behind, and dragging out instruction even more.
  • Teachers also become ill.
  • Substitute teachers teach in place of the regular teachers, changing the delivery of instruction and the quality of learning.
To counter this list, I offer another list. This one is from the Center for Disease Control (CDC).
  •  CDC recommends a yearly flu vaccine as the first and most important step in protecting against flu.
  • Vaccination of high-risk people is especially important to decrease their risk of severe flu illness.
  • People at high risk of serious flu complications include young children, pregnant women, people with chronic health conditions like asthma, diabetes, or heart and lung disease and people 65 years and older.
  • Symptoms of influenza can include fever, cough, sore throat, runny or stuffy nose, body aches, headache, chills and fatigue. Some people may also have vomiting and diarrhea.
  • In the United States, thousands of healthy adults and children have to visit the doctor or be hospitalized from flu complications each year. Flu vaccination can help protect you and your family from the flu and its complications.
Freedom means knowing I can get a flu shot without any hassle. My dear loving husband discussed the flu vaccine with our doctor and together they decided he didn’t need to get one. Amigo and I, however, along with La Petite, tend to be vulnerable to influenza and other respiratory illnesses. We make a habit of getting an annual flu shot. To me, with my medical history fraught with both physical and mental illnesses, good health is part of freedom.
For more information directly from the CDC,  visit www.cdc.gov/flu.

 

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BYOB – Bring Your Own Binder, Mitt.

Dear Mitt;

The “Binders full of women” comment continues to eat away at me. It’s more than just a Twitter hashtag. The Binder bit brought you to a new low.

You see, Mitt, we women are intelligent, capable, competent people. We’re not a separate race. We feel, we love, we care, and we worry. We worry a lot. When a candidate for the highest office in the land thinks he’s being fabulous by claiming he found “binders full of (qualified) women” for professional positions, we worry and we wonder.

We wonder —

  • Why did you know of no qualified women until the Binders showed up on your desk?
  • Why did women’s groups have to push you to hire women – in 2003?!
  • When did you realize that you slipped (another case of Romnesia, no doubt) by claiming you’d sought out qualified women to hire? Did you not know the very women you’d mentioned would handle their own fact checking? Did you not care?
  • Why are we still fighting these battles?
  • How did it happen that banning birth control is even on the table for legislation? Isn’t this ridiculous? No, don’t answer that second one.

In my mind’s eye, I keep seeing Mel Gibson in the movie What Women Want. Mel had to get struck by lightning in order to really hear what women were thinking and saying. Mitt, you don’t need a lightning strike. You simply need to listen. Listen, that is, with an open mind.

Instead of telling us females what we need, ask us. Ask us why birth control matters. Ask us why we think it’s utterly insulting to imply we’re incapable of making our own health care decisions. Ask us why we’d like to be considered qualified professionals. Consider why we might rather fill offices than fill three-ring binders. Put yourself in our shoes.

Maybe that’s the crux of it, Mitt. You seem to be incapable of empathy for anyone born female. You don’t know how to wear our shoes.

Frankly, Mitt, leave me out of your binder. Since you consider me a lesser being, I’ll stick to my own professional networks. I don’t need a lightning strike to show me that your Binders full of Women are just another token. I get it. I do.

When will you get it, Mitt?

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Testing: 1, 2, 3 – Encore, almost

It’s that time of year again! State testing. The Wonderful Knowledge and Concepts Exam. Criterion Referenced Items (a.k.a. WKCE-CRI). Rubrics. Fill in the bubble next to the correct answer choice. Make sure you erase completely and make your new mark heavy and dark. Use only a number 2 pencil. Any questions? You have 40 minutes. Begin.

I teach in a public virtual charter school, an online school, and my students live all over the state of Wisconsin. Since we can’t expect all of them to come to us, we go to them for the required tests. After the Packers beat the Rams on Sunday, I put on my test season sweatshirt (above), packed my bags, and got ready to go.

My destination: a hotel in a major metropolitan area with conference room or rooms that will hold all of our area students. Four of my colleagues and I set up camp in our hotel rooms, including connection to the hotel wi-fi and an in-depth investigation of the in-room coffee makers. We had supper in the bar (the hotel restaurant was out of our price range), checked out the conference rooms for size and set-up, and then settled into our hotel rooms again to relax.

I set out my clothes for the next day — casual, yet teacher-dressy — including my school name badge (so parents will know who I am) and my district ID (in case the state agency decides to audit us). I’m ready.

In the morning, students armed with number 2 pencils will arrive, ready to attack their test booklets.


I hope they all remember that multiple choice items have only one answer, and they should make their marks heavy and dark.

And I sure hope I can forget this repetitive test proctor speech so it stops running through my head and invading my dreams at night!
Note: this is an encore post with a few revisions to bring it up to date. I’m settled into the same sorta-ritzy hotel as last year, with four coworkers instead of two because our enrollment skyrocketed this year. The number of students to be tested in this location doubled, as did the number of younger students that need a benchmark reading assessment. Later – later this week, perhaps, I’ll share some of the trials and tribulations of maintaining test security on the road. 

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Let’s move beyond Awareness.

Breast Cancer Awareness is all over the networks – at least it’s all over ESPN, NFL Network, NBC, CBS, and Fox Sports. Guess it yet? The NFL is blowing the horn to the tune of Pink – massive pinkness in the most macho of arenas.

Pink Gatorade towels. Pink shoe covers. Pink wristbands. Pink cleats, chin straps, and ribbon decals. Pink whistles for the (real) referees, for heaven’s sake. And why?

The purpose of all this pink on the turf is supposed to make all NFL football fans think about breast cancer. Be Aware. Know it’s there.

I can’t help it. My inner cynic is screaming “Enough with the pinky dances already!” My inner cynic, for those who don’t know, is very tuned in to breast cancer in the realm of early detection through mammograms. I’m more than aware of radiation studies, chemo, reconstruction – you name it, friends and family in real life have lived it. Yes, Mom, my latest mammogram was once again normal.

Before readers denounce me as a Bah Humbug, my inner cynic must look into its own wardrobe for two (at least two) pink t-shirts designed by an art teacher who was raising money for the Avon Walk in Chicago. I also own a pink polo shirt with the Green Bay Packers logo on it and the famous pink Packers baseball cap pioneered by Deanna Favre. Both of these items sold out quickly, and not just for Deanna. We still liked Brett back then, but we who bought pink knew a significant portion of our purchase money would go toward breast cancer research.

Well, readers, you might recognize my tone already. I have contributed to breast cancer research through purchases of t-shirts, baseball caps, and just simply by donating to sponsor my amazing friends who walked the walks. So why, why would I complain about the wealthy NFL putting its pink on parade to bring attention to breast cancer for Breast Cancer Awareness?

I complain because awareness is the lowest form of knowledge. Awareness means we know it exists. Awareness means, hey, look at that guy, he’s man enough to put on pink wristbands. This pink thing must be important. What does the pink stand for again?

Awareness doesn’t mean understanding, public support, private support, or personal support. The biggest anticlimax is that all that pink doesn’t mean financial support.

I’ll pose a few questions.

The NFL plans to auction off pink gear to raise money. How much will they raise? How much do they hope to sell? What percentage of the proceeds will actually become donations? And to whom will those donations go?

How much did Gatorade spend on those towels? I’d venture a guess that it could have funded many mammograms for women who don’t have medical coverage. Those dollars might have made up for some of the bucks that Susan B. Komen foundation tried to pull from Planned Parenthood – money that funded just that.

How about those pink whistles? Cute, huh? Cute, however, doesn’t pay the bills when a woman is recuperating from reconstructive surgery. Putting the bucks directly into a fund for follow-up care would go much further than the whistle-stop campaign.

The hot pink shoes, wow, they really show up well on TV hoofin’ their way toward the end zone or during a dramatic kickoff or punt return. But again, at what cost? How much good could that money do if it were used for research toward saving lives?

Okay, NFL, you know I’m a fan. I’m a true blue green and gold cheesehead shareholder type. I’ll keep watching games, pink or no pink. The token pink, though, still irritates me.

Let’s see the teams and their officials and their coaching staff wear the regular colors and have the organization instead make a more-than-token donation to breast cancer research. Maybe when public groups like football teams move beyond the pink ribbons and towels we as a society can admit that research and treatment will gain more from a sizable infusion of cash than from muscular young men sporting hot pink shoelaces.

Until then, maybe I’ll stick to listening to my beloved Packers on the radio for the rest of October.

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The year of the (little) woman?

I saw it in the headlines again: The Year of the Woman. I thought, “Again?” Or should I say “Still?” Let’s see. To define a term, it’s often helpful to find out what it’s not.

It’s not the year of the soccer mom or the hockey mom. The WalMart mom is likely to be part of the 47%, so it’s not her year, either. It’s not the year of any mom, that is, unless it’s the mom who is worried about getting or keeping health care coverage for her children.

Is it the year of the young woman, the woman in her childbearing years? She may need health care, and if she’s struggling to find full time work, she might not have coverage. If she’s not using birth control or if it fails, she may need prenatal care. In some cases, she may need to terminate the pregnancy.  What if she miscarries? She’ll need medical care, counseling or therapy, and reassurance that she can try to carry to term again – or not, if she wishes.

Is it the year of the senior woman? The one looking at Medicare and wondering how the new plan will affect her access to doctors, prescriptions, home health care? This woman needs to understand her options and vote accordingly.

And that’s where the so-called “year of the woman” comes in. Pundits are asking, “How will the women vote?” Oddly, they’re considering the women vote to be one block of voters voting en masse Democratic or Republican. That’s not the way women think.

If it’s really the year of the woman, let’s respect each and every woman. Let’s make sure that she knows she can get pregnancy tests, pap smears, prenatal care, and other reproductive health care if she needs it, whenever she needs it, without question. Let’s make sure she’s the last word in whether or not she needs an invasive vaginal ultrasound — not someone in a suit speechifying bad science under a marble dome.

Let’s make sure the woman that votes today knows that rape is rape and rape is violence against women. Let’s make sure that people who would blame the victims of such violence are not the people making laws that decide on medical procedures for those very victims.

I don’t want today’s mother or grandmother to worry about the safety of her children or grandchildren because of backwards attitudes in official places. I don’t want a victim of violence to have to sacrifice a year of her life carrying a child to term unwillingly. I don’t want an older, wiser woman to have to limit her visits to the doctor because she runs out of vouchers.

If yet another Year of the Woman is really happening, let’s make it a year to remember. Let’s make it clear that we won’t be the little woman of some mythical olden day; we are adults with the same rights and responsibilities as the other gender. Let’s make it the year that we women recognize ourselves as strong, intelligent, and independent voters.

 

 

 

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Through the inbox at work –

Believe it or not, even in a heavily regulated work environment, interesting items sneak through the filters and land in my inbox. I shared the voter registration set-up yesterday. Today it came in the form of the abstract to an article in a professional journal. Not the entire article, but just the summary abstract that described it.

Through the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009, the Obama administration pumped $100 billion into public K-12 and higher education, saved over 300,000 education-related jobs, doubled spending on special education services, and added $10 billion to Title I programs to serve disadvantaged students. A year later, Obama championed another $10 billion to save more teacher jobs.

So far, so good. This sounds like basic Daisy, stereotypical teacher talk, right? Teacher = Obama Backer.

Wrong. We teachers are intelligent beings and independent thinkers. We do not vote as a block; we vote as individuals. We pay attention to our associations’ endorsements, but we don’t follow those recommendations automatically. Here’s the rest of the abstract:

 Both major national unions — the NEA and AFT — have endorsed Obama’s reelection bid. But they have not done so on account of the money. Unions haven’t fully embraced several significant Obama education policies, including his support for including student performance on tests as a measure of teacher performance, more charter schools, and measures that would make it easier to fire ineffective teachers. What’s developed is a complicated, evolving relationship between the administration and the teacher unions.

Contrast that with Wisconsin’s Governor Scott Walker who has absolutely no relationship, evolving or otherwise, and – oh, let’s not go there.

And on an entirely different note, check out this real life math problem I posed to the math teachers with whom I teach.

If I want to order 60 copies of a book from a commonly-utilized bookseller, the book costs $2.99 or 75 bonus points and bonus points are awarded 1 pt. per dollar spent. How many books do I need to buy with cash to get the rest with bonus points!

Extra credit: I’ve already accrued 312 bonus points from other past purchases.

 Have fun!!

No one answered my email yet. Maybe they’re waiting for me, a reading and writing verbal linguistic type, to prove my worth. Readers, it’s up to you. Can you help?

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Voter registration: it’s all in a day’s work

I returned to my cubicle after a sick day, and oh, my, the work had piled up. My gradebook was packed with portfolios, tests, and quizzes all waiting for my expert grading skills. My inbox was bulging, and many were seriously must-have-attention-now messages. My physical mailbox was full, too – full of the big white envelopes that families mail to me filled with portfolios and collections of math work.

Meanwhile, I got on the phone and made up as many of the previous day’s scheduled phone calls as humanly possible.

The saddest relic of the sick day? Communication broke down, and many of the students who normally attend my Monday virtual class didn’t get the word that it was cancelled. I received phone messages and emails that bordered on rude. How dare I become ill for a day and throw a wrench into the well-oiled machines of their schedules! Deep sigh, deep breath, cough, cough, cough, and I headed back to the list of make-up work. I couldn’t control the cancellation of my class, and I did what was within my power to communicate the cancellation.

But as I addressed the most pressing concerns, wrote up a placement change for a student, gathered information on state test accommodations for another, and then step by step did a quality job of grading, I felt a little better. Not relaxed, but calmer.

And then the following memo turned up in my work inbox:

From 11:00-1:00 today the League of Women voters will be at (the charter high school in our building). If you need to register to vote, change your address or request an absentee ballot (and you are a city resident), feel free to come down to the main hallway and talk with our volunteers.

A sign that life is good, and our society still has hope for positive change: Voter registration was going on downstairs. I wonder if flu shots are available there, too?

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