I love public education

I Love Public Education

I cried the first time my Mother left me at your door,

I would learn to love you with every morning cookie and container of milk,

I would love you more with every song we sang within your hallowed walls,

I found your love in every teacher’s smile in your halls

I loved the reverence and respect you showed our flag every morning.

When the evil darkness of assassination

took the life of President Kennedy  ~ you were there,

You calmed us, and helped us understand that although things could never be the same ~ our nation would be mended,

You kept us warm during the winters from 9:00 to 3:00 ~ when there was no heat in our old cold-water flat,

You were there when they murdered our heroes Martin and Bobby, and to help us wipe away our tears,

You ensured that although they were taken from our world ~ these two men would remain in our hearts forever,

You gave us hope through the riots and the protests,

You gave us color when there were no crayons in our homes,

You gave us poetry to ease our pain,

You gave us poetry to celebrate our lives,

You gave us history to give us roots,

You gave us geography, the stars and the moon landing ~ just to let us know we had no boundaries,

You taught us mathematics and science,

But most of all you gave us literature,

You gave us a love of books,

You handed us a little more of our dreams every single day,

You were there, year after year, as we spent our summer vacations under the cooling spray of fire hydrants ~ dancing in the streets,

As every summer ended we longed for another school year to begin,

You were beaming with pride at every graduation,

My loves still grows

I am confused by:

A nation’s leaders ~ who bash public schools at every opportunity,

An American media ~ that ignores 150 years of noble service to our nation’s children,

I find myself distraught ~ by the titans of industry, who blame you for every social ill, while they drink from the cup of plenty, time and time again,

I am troubled by their mantra of testing will save us,

I am saddened by their infatuation with fictional heroes like Superman, and how they pay homage to those with no real classroom experience,

I am bewildered by leaders who say teachers are the essential ingredients to success, and then in their next breath say our teachers are not good enough.

All I am~ I owe to you,

I can’t remember one single standardized test,

I do remember teacher after teacher telling us those tests were no measure of who we really are,

I remembered loving Mr. Bass’s reminders that poor boys and girls could be anything they dreamed,

His boys and girls were more than test scores,

We were his endless possibilities,

Yes, I love public education,

I love public education enough to fight for it,

I love public education enough to stand up for it,

I love public education enough to take it back from the

The billionaires club,

The politicians,

The policy makers,

The ones who only see test scores,

The ones who count numbers not tears,

The ones who refer to America’s children as “Data”

Yes, I love public education; enough to walk again to Washington DC this July,

Forever in your debt,

Jesse Turner

Before there was a race there was something more meaningful

At 2:30 AM she knocks on my bedroom door. Daddy, do you want to come and watch the eclipse with me? Does she really even have to ask? So I drag myself out of bed, and go down the stairs out into that freezing 24 degrees temperature. It's so very chilly and cold. My cup of coffee doesn't help warm me up. She is beautiful, she is 21 years old, and she stills wants her Dad to watch the first lunar eclipse on the winter solstice in nearly 500 years. This warms me up completely. The fact it is still cool to do things with her father alone makes this holiday season wonderful, but then the following morning I see the book she was reading waiting to wake me for the eclipse on the kitchen counter.
There it is, Roald Dahl’s Danny The Champion of the World the copy of the one I read to her when she was 7 years-old one Christmas in Ireland. These are the moments I live for in life. This book moment simply makes this my Christmas perfect.
The note 14 years ago said: Read to and with your child for some 30 minutes a night. This was the request from Mrs. Crowley her second grade teacher…Her note to parents simply said: read to and with your child for 30 minutes every night. It was hand written something unheard of in these days of the printer rules. Do this to encourage a love of reading, be a ham, play it up, and enjoy every moment.
How I the guy whose father never read anything to him, the guy whose father abandoned his only son at the tender age of 10. How I loved my 30 minutes each night with my only daughter. Some 14-years later I love watching the lunar eclipse in wee am hours out in that icy cold night. These are the gifts father’s pray for.
So parents, grandparents, guardians read to your children, read to them not to bring up their test scores, not even to make them better readers, but to plant a love of reading.
Lets pass on Mrs. Crowley’s message written from a time when children were more than test scores… Before the race to the top, and before NCLB. Do it to encourage a love of reading, be a ham, play it up, and enjoy every moment..
Thank you Mrs. Crowley second grade teacher from the valley of the mountain in the land of the sun in Tucson Arizona for these priceless gifts. Come to think of it didn’t we also watch a total eclipse of the sun with you as well.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Mrs. Crowley,
Jesse

Come on up for the rising

There is an old spiritual my mother loved to sing
“Were You There” Oh how my mother loved those old Negro spirituals. The ones they never sang in our all white church. She would picked them up off the radio, and sing them over and over. They gave her strength, moved her spirit, but most of all they left her with purpose and hope.
This is less about the an old spiritual, and more about finding a sense of purpose and hope for the spirit of public education in America.
A sample verse:
“Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, and tremble.
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?”

My mother understood what it meant to tremble, she understood struggle, she knew that if she were really there her heart would be broken, darkness would have filled her soul at that moment, but above all else she knew she would have been outside that tomb on her knees praying with Mary and those other women…remaining silent, staying home, feeling hopeless were not options in her vocabulary. Silence and apathy were not acceptable in the Margaret Turner's home.

The last verse goes:
“Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?”

Now that verse held it all for momma, to be there at that moment, that verse said it all, that verse was my mother’s saving grace. That verse to this day leaves me trembling.
We too in America are at a tomb, and instead of a body being laid to rest what we have is a group of leaders who want to bury our public schools. Those very places that for nearly 150 years have left us with a sense of purpose and hope.
My point is not a religious one, but one about silence and apathy. Fifty years from now when someone ask “were you there” as NCLB/RTTT tried to bury public education, tried to shift the focus from educating citizens to producing good test takers… When our schools became trading commodities on Wall Street, and our children pawns for profits.
What will you say?
At the age of 55, I doubt I’ll be there, however my students will say,
Jesse prayed to save our schools,
Jesse spoke up to save our schools,
Jesse wrote to save our schools,
Jesse carried signs to save our schools,
Jesse walked to save our schools,
Jesse had faith in our public schools.
He refused to accept that NCLB/RTTT tomb.
He fought for the rising.
Silence and apathy were not in his vocabulary.
Come on friends take the next step join our Save Our Schools March?
As Bruce Springsteen sings come on up for the rising.
Come on up for the rising this July 28-31 in DC, and from every nook and corner in America.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNnB4dkVRJI
Jesse