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Sorry.

I’ve been absent and dealing with

puttingtogetherpoetry

andgoingtoconferencesonSLCEandWID

andWACandwritingpositionpapersforourgenedcurriculum

andproposalsforpapersonresilience

andwhothehellisKevinAshtonanyway

andproducing

afiveyearplanandgradingalwaysgrading

whydoweevenhavetogradereally

andhyperventilatingand

andandand

and the end is in sight

?

Today in my voting theory class I gave students space to be, just be, given how we’ve spent the semester having hard conversations about political philosophy and given how we all had some pretty strong opinions in the wake of this past Monday’s debate.

I broke out my maker supplies. I asked them to unpack, to process, to reflect. I give you Corinne’s piece: Donald Trump, incinerating black people while brown people (a wall of Mexicans) look on, white people hovering above the fray on a billow of money, but they’re falling off (and not helping each other up); HRC looks on, shades over her eyes, boas of money draping her shoulders.

You know.

There were others.

And others.

And in the end, the mood was somber. Class ended with the realization that we simply cannot demonize the other side, that we all have legitimate reasons for feeling the way we do.

I tire of hearing my voice. I’ve made several promises to share other voices here, and that will happen soon.