Little Boxes NO MORE!

The story goes that as Malvina Reynolds drove down that California Peninsula from Berkley through San Francisco and Daily City to La Honda she said Bud: “take the wheel. I feel a song coming on.” That coming on song was Little Boxes". What did she see? Leaving Berkley, she saw conformity at every turn. In my humble opinion she saw childhood fading away. A lost of that American tapestry of individualism, uniqueness, and an American magic that holds to who people were, were they came from, and the excitement of the new treads they bring to that amazingly unique and beautiful tapestry of a nation that was always becoming America.

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Malvina past away in 1978, she was a real folk singer, Flower Child, an activist who believed in the power of song to wake people up and bring change to a world in need of change. 
What would she think of an America that forced teachers to teach to the test?
She would think little boxes!
What would she think of an America that forces children to learn the exact same things?
She would think little boxes!
What would she think of education reform policies that claim rigor and grit are what children need?
She would think little boxes!
What would she think of a nation that puts standardized testing before art, music and Play?
Sick little boxes!
What would she think of an America that seeks to corporatize its public schools?
Sick Greedy Little boxes! 
What would she think of an America that measures childhood through test scores not joy, not imagination, or uniqueness of our children? 
Sad Little boxes! 
What would she think of an America that so fears being unique?
Not America! 
What would she think of American leaders so afraid of the future they are willing to turn childhood in an assembly line of conformity?
Not America!

Who are these people who fear our uniqueness?
Sick Little boxes!
Who are these people who fear imagination?
Sick Little boxes!
Who fear difference?
Pathetic sick Little boxes!
Who fear celebrating that beautiful American tapestry always moving and always becoming?
Cowardly Little boxes! 

My thinking is she would say Little 1984 boxes, Little Animal Farm boxes, and Little Fahrenheit 451 boxes,
Her tears would fill every ocean,
Her fears would ring every bell in the land,
Her feet would be marching to the Lincoln Memorial in DC for the Peoples March for Public Education and Social Justice,
Her voice would be singing all the way from California to DC, 
Little Boxes, 
Little Boxes,
No More.

Calling all parents, students, teachers, and activists to join our no more boxes revolution.
On July 8 2016 I will be marching and singing Little Boxes, Little Boxes, No More.
Where is this No More Little Boxes March?
You'll find us at that sacred place where Dr. Martin Luther King call a nation to dream.
Where will you be America?
This Walking Man will be in DC, chanting "No More Little Boxes, and marching with his brothers and sisters fighting education reforms that robbed children of their uniqueness, individuality, imagination, and diversity.
Still marching,
Jesse The Walking Man Turner

People you should not even have to wonder what this Walking Man is listening to on his walk this morning....It's Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds... 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SADPuUYF_4I

Survivors wanted

Stay,

One of my favorite students is leaving teaching today. She emptied her heart, emptied that beautiful soul, gave her children everything she had. The inhumanity of test and punish education reforms took a heavy toll on her heart too big for this see the score not the child education system. So we talked, we cried, and we understood nothing would ever be the same between us. She said I just can't take the test score bullying from administrators another day.  She talked about the Peoples March for Public Education and Social Justice. She is going, but she just can't teach any longer.

 Then she finally she said her biggest fear:
"Please don't hate me? Don't think less of me Dr. Turner,"
Then that ocean of tears released from a broken teacher flowed out. One of my own a thousand miles away, and no way to reach out and hold her.

"How could I think less of you?  
You gave 15 years of your soul to other people's children.  
You who created safe beautiful places for children to learn and grow in this age of children are test scores.
I could never hate you
I no more hate you, than I hate the early morning chorus of birds singing wake up Walking Boy.

You inspire me, lift me, and leave me with endless hope.

We all give what we can, it's not how long we stay it's how much we give.

I understand you must leave. you have given more than you had to give.  You have exhausted all that you have.

I want you to rekindle your fire to do good.
There are many ways to bring empathy and humanity into this world.
Teaching is only one.
Now I am asking you take some of that humanity and empathy you gave so freely to others, and give it to yourself.

Go walk in the sun, dance a little, and rest."
"I am  so sorry sir,
Who takes my place?
Who'll be there in September?"

There will be another.

No more crying,
Be proud of 15 years of selfless giving,
15 years of service to America's most needy children,
Pick up your head,
Stand strong,
Be proud,
Now, go walk into a new and better day,
Thank you,
Thank you,
Thank you."

Who will take her place?

So here I stand at 61, wondering who will take all the places of the exhausted, the beaten down, and the broken. In Night Elie Wiesel writes in " Night" about the words of the prisoner in charge of his bunk on his first night in Auschwitz death camp.  
“There's a long road of suffering ahead of you. But don't lose courage. You've already escaped the gravest danger: selection. So now, muster your strength, and don't lose heart. We shall all see the day of liberation. Have faith in life. Above all else, have faith. Drive out despair, and you will keep death away from yourselves. Hell is not for eternity. And now, a prayer - or rather, a piece of advice: let there be comradeship among you. We are all brothers, and we are all suffering the same fate. The same smoke floats over all our heads. Help one another. It is the only way to survive.”
There is no comparison between the holocaust. But, at 61 I find hope in the works of Elie. He offers us humanity, he reminds us to muster our strength, not to lose courage, don't lose heart, and most of all we are brothers and sisters under the same smoke. Take care of each other. I don't know who will take her place, but I shall be her brother and his brother. 

Liberation from this evil that treats our public schools, children and our teachers like private piggy banks is coming to an end.
I do not know the day.
I can't give you the hour.
Know this one truth,
Justice is coming.

Wiesel said: “There is divine beauty in learning... To learn means to accept the postulate that life did not begin at my birth. Others have been here before me, and I walk in their footsteps. The books I have read were composed by generations of fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, teachers and disciples. I am the sum total of their experiences, their quests. And so are you.” 

I am a survivor, and so are you, and more survivors arrive everyday.
Justice is coming,
Someone is coming to take her place,
We are the sum total of the experiences and quests of all those educators for justice who came before us.
Wanted brothers and sisters of justice,
Wanted survivors.
Not ready to walk away,
Jesse The Walking Turner

If you want to know what this Walking Man crying is listening to today...it's Van Morrison and the Chieftains Irish Heart Beat "Stay A While With Your Own Ones"  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyK6f9NZXdw  

One Love

The Starfish

An old man walked the beach at dawn. He noticed a young man ahead of him picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea. Finally catching up with the youth, he asked him why he was doing this. The answer was that the stranded starfish would die if left under the morning sun.

“But the beach goes on for miles and there are millions of starfish,” countered the old man. How can your efforts make any difference?”

The young man looked at the starfish in his hand and then threw it to safety in the waves. “It makes a difference to this one,” he said. –Anonymous

Why I walk, 

Why I protest, 

Why I fight against the wind,
Why nobody is going to turn me around,

Because I am a Star Fish Teacher

Week one in Jamaica over. My teachers and our children worked hard. Like in the USA our plastic gold medals were a hit. It is a humbling experience to be able to work with Jamaican teachers and children. We built a community of learning rooted in love and caring for each other. We pushed children forward, but always with a deep sense of empathy and love. We fought for every letter, word, sentence, every paragraph, and every story. We walked a challenging path together. Everyone counts, everyone matters, and everyone learns. Including Dr. Turner, his teachers, and our children. Sam Sharpe Teachers College is a gracious host, nice air conditioned classrooms, cold water, and nice snacks. Kevin our security/facilities person breaks down and sets up our rooms every day, and make sure we have lots of cold water. He does this with a smile and real love in his heart. Everyone respects and loves Kevin. 
The best parts of my day here is seeing our children running to us, playing checkers, (these kids are good), Dr. Turner v the Jamaican kids word challenge, and debriefing with my teachers at the end of the night. There is a ton of learning going on at all levels. 
Just in case you want to know...our "Word Challenge" pits the children against me. Teachers write words on the board from a local graded work list. Ten points for every word children get, and 20 points for any missed words for the Mighty Dr. Turner. In the end they always win, but not without me puffing my chest up, and shouting at the sky no way not today. I love watching the children work together to get the words, and them shouting give up harder words teacher. It's all good here. 
Sometimes all I need is this work, this hope, and this place where teachers and children grow and learn together. Each night on the ride home I bow my head, and say thank you Lord for this beautiful day. Tell every fake Education Reformer ain't nobody gonna turn me around. 
One Love,
Jesse

If you want to know what song I am listening to under this giant Jamaican Moon...it's Bob Marley's "One Love" > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdB-8eLEW8g <