Backwards We Go with the Wisconsin Republicans

The thing about the Wisconsin Republican gerrymandering, at least up to this point, was that it didn't really bother or disturb too many people. The total effect was bragging rights, but that was about it.

No longer. Maybe they took a while to totally understand their power, but Wisconsin Assembly Republicans are finally robbing the state of sanity in the name of religious obsession that fits their worldview.

To wit: A hearing took place yesterday in the chamber about reinstating ex-gay "conversion therapy" in the state. It had been banned for the last few years.

Conversion therapy exists under the presumption that gayness is pretense. Gay people just want to be gay, just want to have sex with people of their own gender, because--well, for a number of reasons. Many Republicans, especially those who are excessively religiously afflicted, believe that this is one of society's evils brought on by, well, loose morals and family deterioration and heaven knows (and they do think that heaven does know) what else.

In any event, gay people have apparently fallen astray. It's the height of condescension that someone would think that they've been sadly misled, that they have fallen off the rails, maybe unbeknownst to them, by hanging around with those of their professed, but phony, type.

So, you know--if we just take them aside and show them the one, honest truth, that men need to be with women and women with men, the false facts will finally dawn on them, they will slap their foreheads and berate their former detachment from the way the world really works and get with the program. They will start dating people of the other sex, maybe even have children, and honor and respect will, only because of the excessively religiously afflicted Republican Party, be restored. We can all go on secure and relieved to know that we won't even have to tacitly acknowledge gayness, even by admitting it, as Tim Michels tried to shove in our faces, without having them appear in public much less express themselves there.

That didn't just rub off just because of Michels' candidacy and outrageous TV political ads, which weren't as political as they were harkening to a past that existed only in their minds. Rather, just like the way ex-'s attacks on democracy have emerged and hung around, with follow-ups in the new, backward majority in Congress teeming to foist upon us, Michels' attacks on gay people have unearthed that which had always lurked not far beneath the surface. They were attitudes which the reigning milieu discouraged until ex- took over for that regrettable time period, which was just long enough for our living Neanderthals to look around, close off all that made sense, and retreat into the world they alone had concocted for themselves. The difference is that the country's mistake in electing the chief Neanderthal gave them permission to fantasize that perhaps their worldview could dominate.

That must have included Wisconsin Republican Assembly members, because now they are carrying forward that which should be considered nearly the ultimate in backwardness. But when a large number of people are being that absurd, we have no choice but to honor it--which is to say, we have to acknowledge that there are still plenty of folks out there who would rather not acknowledge what's always been true: that ten percent, give or take, of humanity has been born homosexual and it can't be "fixed" by anyone in any fashion.

I don't care what you say: ten percent's a lot, something like thirty-three million people in America, and some six hundred thousand here in this state. That would be a high hill to climb, even if they have a point, which they don't.

Oh, I'm quite sure that behind 'free expression,' and 'religious freedom,' the latter of which has been bastardized way beyond normal recognition by a supermajority of the Supreme Court, Assembly Republicans will hide their obvious motivations--that homosexuality is somehow 'wrong,' that it is somehow contagious (like a mental disease, which it also is not), and--far more importantly--its very existence makes them frighteningly uncomfortable, along with other backwards people too many of which exist within these borders. Thus, if it can be undone--and it takes some kind of illogical reach to consider that notion--someone, heaven knows not them in particular, but somebody--should have the perfect right to have at it.

Never mind the mental and emotional damage that can be wreaked upon gay folks, especially adolescents toward whom this is directed; you can't force adults to submit themselves to salvation but you can force wrong-thinking young people to reimpress themselves impressionably. That damage has been well-documented, as if that had any effect upon the Assembly Republicans who have been obviously planning on this hearing for some time now.

In my time on the NEA Executive Committee, we were confronted by this phenomenon (I think this happened about 2005 or so) when the so-called ex-gay caucus wished to set up a booth in the midst of many other educational ones at the NEA Representative Assembly. The NEA Gay-Lesbian Caucus had already established itself as a potent intra-political force, and their consternation could be cut with a dull kitchen knife. So it was put to us, as the chief facilitators of the RA: Should a caucus with such a contrary agenda to that which the NEA had obviously directed itself over these many years be allowed inside? Should that camel's nose be allowed inside our tent?

To provide context, please also understand that the NEA has caucuses enveloping nearly all possible political-social stances, including Right to Life (which will be bragging mightily next summer) and Conservative, about which people tend to shrug their shoulders, call it a free country, and most of whom stride right past their displays. Seeing as how about one-third of our members consider themselves politically conservative, though--somehow believing that they'll have significant impact upon policy, nice try--it's not exactly dealing with a fringe.

But ex-gay? That was interpreted as a direct attack upon a burgeoning, thriving caucus of very sensitive people who didn't deal with getting their toes stepped on very well. So we had this debate in open air, with everyone holding their breath about what would shake out.

Of course, these issues can't be considered in a vacuum. If we said no to the ex-gay caucus, we might get sued. That suit would be trumpeted mightily among the victim-ridden conservatives, in addition to costing us tons of cash that we would otherwise be using to promote other issues in significant states. So there was that, too. Contrary to what some tended to think, our coffers were never bottomless.

We eventually decided that in the name of free expression, which was always in question but also highly valued--indeed, the RA itself was based upon it--we would allow the ex-gays to set up a booth. We figured that the curious but uncommitted would pay some attention to it, but that its status wouldn't grow amongst our delegates, who would be mostly, if not completely to a person, inclined to reject their notions. In the time I belonged to the Executive Committee, we never heard of big lines at that booth. As I recall, the vote was unanimous but not vociferously so; nearly apologetic.

Had I to vote again, though, I would reverse it and speak strongly against it. I think we chickened out in the name of practicality, not high principle.

Conversion therapy is based on educational expression and availability. We were and are, after all, primarily interested in the substance of that education as well as protecting and improving the processes by which it's being dispensed and supported. Conversion therapy is nothing more and nothing less than a lie, as much as it would be for me as a history teacher to tell the students that China invaded North Dakota in 1875, which is why chop suey's so popular there. Free speech includes that which is false, but that doesn't mean it should be tolerated or promoted. That betrays and compromises that which we rely upon to even have democracy.

That's just as true in the Wisconsin State Assembly, which, in the name of something sacred--all the more reason to regard it with disgust--has moved forward with the backward notion that being homosexual is a disease that can be cured. Gerrymandering has, at last, succeeded in finding a license of illogic and intolerance. Expect more of that soon--more backing up out of reality.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.

Mister Mark

Out of the Blue: Some Solace

It came from out of the blue. I had no idea.

One of the nice things (it has many that aren't nice) about e-mail is that you can find people you haven't heard from in decades. You had no idea about where they went. Then suddenly--boom!--they show up.

It happened to me the other day. At Cedarburg High, we once had what was called the 9th Grade Colloquium, offered to Gifted and Talented students--rather, placed upon them more or less, which was one of its most controversial aspects. It had about 16-20 (I forget exactly how many) students, considered gifted in one sense or another (another controversial aspect; what is gifted?).

Some were Type A+, bent on making the best of the situation no matter how much extra energy it took (because they had to take a full slate of classes besides this). Some went along with it, paying some attention, coming up with a few brief moments of inspiration, but not "all in." And some objected all the way, rebelling passively or actively against their parents who had been ogres to make them to even burdened with work (although most in this group didn't pay much attention to their regular classes anyhow). They rebelled against a school that could do make them do this lousy gig--thus punished by rewards (a compelling intra-educational cliche'). They rebelled because they knew they could get away with it because they suspected that no matter how they acted, they couldn't get kicked out although they so desperately wanted to (they didn't know, at least at the outset, that being contrary in style and attitude gave them, ironically, more 'gifted,' so as a Catch-22, their objections and laconic, detached reactions to this new situation made them 'interesting,' and more inclined to meet the description than not).

I was one of the two teachers who were asked--kind of assigned--by our principal to come up with something of a "curriculum" for them, to inspire them to perform beyond themselves, and to show to somebody (most often their parents, some of whom were a little too willing to see themselves as 'gifted,' too) that at last, their gifts would no longer be hidden but flourish beyond the normal boundaries that normal classes proscribed.

One of the girls in this group, someone who had insisted that she wasn't gifted (ah, but she was; her answers in class discussion in my mainstream history class had shown an insight and sophistication that were way above just about everyone), contacted me through Linked In. She was thoroughly a member of the above latter group, polite but as passively resistant to what we were doing as much as those who were demonstrably rebellious. Someone had designated them as special, so they used it as a weapon to try to shape what we were doing. They had seething resentment about a plethora of things.

This particular girl wasn't nasty at all. But she had resisted. She sat with arms mostly folded, drifting off at times to be somewhere, anywhere else but there. We had tried several things to grab their attention--special readings, field trips and such--but in the end, the very system that had wanted to create a standout group kept its thumb on them to sufficiently rob them of the very energy that they would need to continue. The Colloquium lasted a few months, then dissolved.

I felt personally responsible, except I, too, had been also pulled into too many directions. I was never sure what my role was, and I, too, had my time eaten away when it should have been devoted to mainstream students. I was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. The opportunities had been exhilarating at the start, but increasingly disappointing as everything developed. 

I was badly hurt when removed from the situation, because I was convinced that if we could find a way through, it would serve as a fascinating offshoot of what education could really be. Eventually, I would write it off as an experiment doomed to failure by the inertia of the very system it had a chance to overcome. But I felt also that I had let the kids down.

So when I heard from this girl, now of course a grown woman working in social services, I was completely stunned. None of the students involved had contacted me--hell, very few have contacted me in any event. As the old basketball coach Rick Majerus would say, teachers are a "cup of coffee" in kids' lives, as he referred to anything or anyone who would just be passing through. This had been but a sip. I was thoroughly convinced that nothing we did had a dime's worth of meaning to them.

Her message accurately portrayed her attitude back then. She thanked me, though, for my patience with her recalcitrance. I thought that was very kind, and told her so.

Just to have someone in that woebegone group reach out to me, I thought, was astonishing. With them, I had thought my name was mud. Turns out one of them had thought twice about it, and had enough gumption to tell me so.

Teaching is like that. You not only have to be satisfied with delayed gratification, you must accept the simple fact of getting none at all. I have heard from former students, some of them quite gifted (though not identified as such), on Facebook, though, so I must say that that medium hasn't been all bad.

Message to those who read this: If there's someone in similar circumstances, send them an e-mail and tell them thanks. Tell them that they meant more to you as time went on. The very act of having done so will be gratifying to them beyond measure. You don't know the good it will do. If you send out good, good comes back. There just isn't any schedule.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.

Mister Mark

The Year's Take: Unsolicited Spare Change from Charitable Organizations

A while back, I wrote a blog telling you that I was getting money, real money, albeit a little at a time, from charitable organizations, the purpose of which was obviously to make me feel guilty and give them much more of my own. I'm quite sure I'm not alone in this regard.

I also said that, instead of sending that money, I would add it all up and tell you how much I'd gained by the end of the year. The final monies have been offered (right up until today), no other mail will arrive, and the books have been balanced.

I made $45.37, three pennies at a time, a nickel, a dime (March of Dimes, mostly, as one could guess), even 50 cents (the highest amounts were usually reserved for those entities wanting me to take pity on dogs and horses) or a buck (and got sent stamps, too, which I counted as 58 cents). Not bad. Not quite a full tank of gas, but a nice dinner if I should want to treat myself.

I'm not. I'm not going to steal away with someone's charity that's in fact something of a ruse. I'm going to give it away, in fact, to one of my favorite charities, the St. Jude Children's Hospital. Very soon, whenever they decide to solicit me again--which won't be long, trust me--they'll get a check for $45.37.

I don't usually consider it anybody's business to know what charity I like to contribute to. But then, I don't know Jeff Bezos' subjects of mercy, either, and that's none of my business as well.

As with Bezos, remember, this was not theft. This was unsolicited nudging, if you will, Did it work? Did these charities convince me to open my wallet? Nope.

It's not because I've never done it or that I won't in the future. I'm not rich and never will be, but it's clear to see that a whole bunch of folks need a whole bunch of money. But it doesn't feel pure, doesn't feel entirely genuine, for me to give somebody their money back, in actuality.

Back in the Oughts, when I was on the NEA Executive Committee and the recipient of a nice stipend each year (which made me feel slightly rich), I opened my wallet and gave a great deal more than I'd ever had before--or since. The deluge of solicitations that have followed has been a follow-up to that, of course, because these people don't know that that faucet has been shut off, or rather, I've had to shut it off or else I couldn't eat.

In a way, I don't blame them. But if in a calendar year, someone doesn't respond, it's a good bet that they've moved on. Once you open that door, though, it's pretty tough to close it. And if you send someone even ten bucks, they don't go away. Quite the opposite. You hear from them even more often.

Offering little bits of money feels like the ultimate in desperation. Some charitable organizations offer three pennies, then if you don't send them anything, come back with a dime. It feels like someone's gone fishing, and they think you're looking at that hook for better bait. It doesn't feel, well, very charitable.

But it would take work to get back to them with the ultimate break-up letter, particularly because any communication indicates attention, and might very well bring down on you another deluge. Better just to take the envelope and put it in the discard/recycling pile. Not worth any other trouble, time or energy.

So on behalf of St. Jude Children's Hospital, I'd like to thank all the other charities that bothered to bother me with no response. Knowing roughly what will most likely come my way this year, I'll just wait until the end, pick out another charity, and write a check for $45.37 next December 31. 

It's not like I don't care, mind you. Like the very rich, I'm going to give someone enough so they're relatively satisfied but not too much to drain my own resources. Altruism, for the rich and non-rich, always has its limits. Happy New Year.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.

Mister Mark