So I have caved, and censored myself.
We were warned we would do it one day, by one of our education professors. No matter how passionate we were about freedom of speech, we'd find ourselves starting to do things like pulling books from our classroom libraries or changing words in a read aloud.
Well, I read a certain classic fantasy book every year, written by an author who wrote in a time when the word "queer" meant something totally different than what it can mean now. I say strange instead. I don't want to deal with sniggers, and I don't want to get sucked into any sort of debate about the many uses of the word now. I just don't want to.
I pulled Number the Stars from my repetoire as well, for the second time. I just can't get into Holocaust related literature when I have students who also happen to be German citizens in my classroom. The librarian laughed when I told her I was taking the coward's way out because we both knew what a perfect fit that book is for kids in this age group. But she got it.
This is, however, the first time I have censored my own writing, simply because someone may see it. The post that originally occupied this space reflected a deep distress related to the events of this last year. I wrote carefully so that a stranger would not be able to place my real name to my real job even while I was sure that I wrote things that could not put my job in jeopardy. Upon reflection, I think that someone who did know my situation could easily put two and two together. The first reader of this blog entry grimaced after reading it. Do I really want someone related to my school (read parent/student/colleague I'm not close to) to have greater insight into my feelings about the last school year? Do I want my eerily technologically savvy students to think it was them who contributed to my discontent should they find this blog? Anyone who's taught can tell you it is never the kids who are responsible for a tough year. Things are never that simple.
My original post reflected on the lack of reading I had completed over the last year compared to a similar amount of reading completed while my child was in the NICU. I took, and still take, the point of view that this ought to be the litmus test most valid to reckoning my wellbeing.
I'm not sure what should be done with the baggage I carry from the nine months. I went upstairs to bed tonight still uneasy about the original blog, and like the word queer, or the fear of making one student uncomfortable, the prudent thing for me was censorship. I just want to sleep tonight without worrying about anything. It has been quite some time since I've done that.
We were warned we would do it one day, by one of our education professors. No matter how passionate we were about freedom of speech, we'd find ourselves starting to do things like pulling books from our classroom libraries or changing words in a read aloud.
Well, I read a certain classic fantasy book every year, written by an author who wrote in a time when the word "queer" meant something totally different than what it can mean now. I say strange instead. I don't want to deal with sniggers, and I don't want to get sucked into any sort of debate about the many uses of the word now. I just don't want to.
I pulled Number the Stars from my repetoire as well, for the second time. I just can't get into Holocaust related literature when I have students who also happen to be German citizens in my classroom. The librarian laughed when I told her I was taking the coward's way out because we both knew what a perfect fit that book is for kids in this age group. But she got it.
This is, however, the first time I have censored my own writing, simply because someone may see it. The post that originally occupied this space reflected a deep distress related to the events of this last year. I wrote carefully so that a stranger would not be able to place my real name to my real job even while I was sure that I wrote things that could not put my job in jeopardy. Upon reflection, I think that someone who did know my situation could easily put two and two together. The first reader of this blog entry grimaced after reading it. Do I really want someone related to my school (read parent/student/colleague I'm not close to) to have greater insight into my feelings about the last school year? Do I want my eerily technologically savvy students to think it was them who contributed to my discontent should they find this blog? Anyone who's taught can tell you it is never the kids who are responsible for a tough year. Things are never that simple.
My original post reflected on the lack of reading I had completed over the last year compared to a similar amount of reading completed while my child was in the NICU. I took, and still take, the point of view that this ought to be the litmus test most valid to reckoning my wellbeing.
I'm not sure what should be done with the baggage I carry from the nine months. I went upstairs to bed tonight still uneasy about the original blog, and like the word queer, or the fear of making one student uncomfortable, the prudent thing for me was censorship. I just want to sleep tonight without worrying about anything. It has been quite some time since I've done that.
posted by Bellanca43 | 1:05 PM
1 Comments:
Well, I am glad I got to read the original post, but I can relate. It is almost impossible not to censor, even if you are actively trying not to. My career is similar, sometimes it is just easier to leave the books out. It is such a shame though that education can't be all things to all people all of the time, without everyone getting in the way.
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