Beware of False Education Prophets

Just showing  my love for angry Al Pacino face.

Just showing my love for angry Al Pacino face.

Beware of false education prophets. They come to you in teacher’s clothing, but inwardly they support the anti-working class bastards who want to destroy the teaching profession.

This is sort of a spin-off from my last blog post on homeschooling. I offended the sensibilities of a few of the admins of a teacher’s discussion group I was a part of on Facebook by being an outspoken critic of parents who choose to homeschool their kids. (Remember, my blog was not completely anti-homeschooling. It was anti-against the idea that a parent can call themselves an educator with no fucking credentials whatsoever.)

Well I’m a big ol’ meanie and my writing sucks. As one of the white, upper-middle class admins who was a marketing major (not an education major) explained to me, I’m “not a good fit” because I don’t hold hands and sing Kumbaya with homeschooling parents. I should be nice to them since they support teachers and school reform. Well Ms. Peggy Privilege, they actually don’t support us, since the whole idea of an unqualified parent homeschooling a child is completely anti-public education and anti-teacher at its core.

Peggy P, who comes across as a progressive and claims to hate those evil “corporatist deformers”, is justifying all the negative shit those evil corporatist deformers say about teachers by supporting unprofessional homeschooling! When you support homeschooling/unschooling, especially as someone who is supposed to be an advocate for public school teachers, you are giving a carte blanche of teacher hate to the very deformers you claim to despise. You are telling the deformers that since little Caligula can be educated in his home by his mom who barely has a high school diploma, what do we need teachers for? You are giving them an excuse to bash us politically, decrease our pay and dismantle our union. You are giving them permission to say our profession is worthless and to do away with us all together. Why give a trained, licensed and vetted professional teacher a salary when we can get little Nero’s mom to teach him for free?

And this little incident just solidifies my whole experience with public education and education advocacy when I first started the journey to become a teacher 15 years ago. Yes, education needs reform. There is over-testing and there are too many private companies involved in testing and tracking our children’s data, just to name two of the several problems with education in America. But there are a lot of phonies in this game.

I learned very early on in my teaching days not to say certain things in front of certain people; they will rat you out to an admin just so they can get their hands on precious per session* gigs. I also learned very early on that a good number of our union leadership, including my chapter leader and our wonderful union president talked out of both sides of their mouths–giving these rah-rah speeches railing against admins and bureaucrats, then turning around and making concessions with them. Let’s not forget, that we gave up the right to file grievances under the falsely militant Randi Weingarten. She was the union leader when many beloved neighborhood high schools across the city were dismantled. Now with the protests against Common Core, you get people like Peggy Privilege who dare call themselves a progressive reformer and teacher advocate, but do exactly as my union leadership did; act all rah-rah in front of teachers but then turn around and support people & policies that directly undermine our existence. As I see it, we will continue to be fooled by these false prophets of education reform.

*Per-session is the New York City Department of Education terminology for overtime.


50 Shades of Poo: How to Write a Best-Seller for the Modern American Woman.


So I decided that ethics and convictions are overrated and I just want to be fucking rich. Like Scrooge McDuck rolling in piles of gold rich. I can’t do this writing honest satire and social critique. I need some self-masturbatory material where everyone but myself thinks I’m beautiful and I fall in love with some ridiculously handsome guy with a giant penis–something the young, shallow, housewives of America will spend 29.99 on.

Let’s start out with a weak-minded and weak-willed female protagonist. Everyone but herself thinks she is beautiful. She has no real character flaws except that she is a klutz and dresses in oversized clothes from the LL Bean catalogue. Oh, and she MUST be a virgin–because the man of your dreams doesn’t want your hoo-hah tainted by another man’s pee-pee. This female character must lack any sort of depth that might make her a semi-interesting person. Even without a real personality, men swoon over her and think she’s the bee’s-knees!

Now we need a male protagonist. He has to be really really good looking, and as the author, I have to remind you on every page how good looking he is. In addition to being extremely good looking, he has to be a total controlling and abusive asshole. He watches you while you sleep and/or tells you how to eat. He slashes your tires so you can’t go out with your friends . He’s a real charmer. But he’s so good looking! And rich! And has a huge penis!

I’m going to need another male character to half-heartedly compete for your love.  This is where I insert the male friend who thinks you’re beautiful too (just like everybody else) into my story.  He is usually some sort of non-threatening minority like Native-American , Latino and/or Wolf.  His only role in this story is to get beat up by your beloved asshole for trying to get in your pants. Remember, you can’t defend yourself from unwanted advances because you are a weak woman who needs a brooding man to rescue you whenever you’re in trouble. How romantic!

Now that I have my formulaic characters, I need a gimmick. Think vampires or BDSM sex. You can’t sell a Harlequin novel in the 2010’s these days without a hook like sharks, tornados, shark-tornados, zombies, dragons, or rich rednecks. I’m still trying to narrow a gimmick down.  Add in some purple prose and a thin-plot (Something like vampires that sparkle in the sun instead of die–How else can you explain a vampire who goes to high school? Night school is for losers!) and I think I have the next NY Times best-seller on my hands.

Most of all, I need to set the women’s movement back by about 50 years.



He’s wincing at the shitty writing folks.