Teacher bloggers who haven’t spent half (the waking half) of their lives on the internet might not realize that there are mean people out there who can leave foul comments on their blogs and write unkind things about them elsewhere. Elementary teachers, though they spend vast amounts of their day teaching children to be nice to each other, might be surprised to see how frequently those lessons are disregarded when their students mature.
So what should we do when someone dumps on us on the internet? There is no easy answer to this question. If we are confrontational and judged rude in return, we condemn ourselves to additional derision. We feel lousy. We may even want to quit blogging. If we ignore the affront, we face a similar outcome. It is difficult to respond to mudslinging without getting a little bit dirty also. I’ve not worked this part of the problem out. I apologize to my regular readers in advance.
When this situation presented itself to me a while back I was not prepared for it, and I still feel that I handled it poorly. But I was heartened by the support that I got from the other bloggers who I’d come to know and trust. I realized how alone and emotionally vulnerable we are without friends who will stand with us when things get ugly. This tribal loyalty is dismissed as an echo chamber by the opposing camp, who believe that theirs is somehow composed of real noise.
This unpleasantness recently occurred on the blog of someone who has come to be a frequent correspondent of mine. She is a dedicated and responsible person. And she wrote a heartfelt lament about the effects that current education policy was having on her classroom. Her remarks were not directed at any person. Yet someone who she did not know took it upon himself to criticize her in roughshod fashion.
This treatment, I know, can have a chilling effect. And to demonstrate my solidarity, I stand with Sarah and any other teachers who simply want to tell their stories.
I responded to a comment at When the hurly-burly’s done. I said, I haven’t read your blog until today, but I want to say that I appreciate your awareness of the harm that toxic rhetoric can do to productive discussion. I’m proud to count myself among “Sarah’s back-patting cronies”…
Once Dan figured out who I was talking about, he proceeded to get everything else wrong.
Sarah…displays model emotional truthfulness — the heart’s out on the sleeve there — but dismal intellectual honesty….
And I’m to honor her “mere frustration?”
Meanwhile, I drafted Biggie Smalls (a title which embarrasses me more the more grossly it’s misinterpreted), with each revision attempting to excise the florid, incendiery prose that made Sarah’s rant such a disappointment to read. Your reading of my post indicates that I want to “silence opposing points of view,” a reading which is selective at best.
I make it clear from the first paragraph that it matters to me less “what you believe on NCLB (whether to scrap it or keep it), rather why you believe it and how you go about believing it.”
….I could only conclude that your reading of my post represents your own sympathies much better than it does the post itself.
At the end of Biggie Smalls, I ask for an elevation of discourse. That post was carefully constructed to critique the delivery of an ideology rather than the ideology itself and I can’t work up much regret over it.
Since Dan has anointed himself spokesman and style monitor for the “ cross-section of eager, hardworking young teachers“… I say,
Do not read on. It will disappoint you. As you can see, I live in an echo chamber. I live in an echo chamber.
NCLB is manifestly pseudoscience.
I don’t care what or why Dan believes anything (to paraphrase him). But I do care how he chooses to engage people who have my deepest respect. All readings are selective, and I read Dan’s “lack of regret” for attacking a teacher over a disagreement about education policy as a demonstration of his self absorption. He chose not to read Sarah’s intent, and instead focused on her delivery. Meanness has never elevated a discussion.
A deeper commitment to better listening is essential in order for technology to fulfill its promise of bringing the world together in real terms.
We can make a difference in the world by learning to listen better and by telling others about better listening. But only if they listen. (Michael Webb)
Dan might need a time-out to think about this.
16 Comments
This is a bit of a tangent, but how about on your students’ blogs? We’ve just made my class blogs public (and I’m planning on having my kids visit your kids’ blogs soon), but we also warned them that by doing so they may get comments they didn’t expect. For example, someone who reads my blog wrote comments to each of their Amazon reviews. One child began a dialog with this person. This person has not done anything out of line, but I’ve also emailed him/her several times and received no response so I’m wary if she/he is what she/he claims (in comments on my blog). At any rate, it was a good cautionary situation for my kids. I told them not to respond to comments by people they don’t know. I am monitoring them and some may well be form people I know who read my blog and I’ll let them know that.
As for meanness, hopefully we have no problems there!
Doug, I consider reading this post of yours to be one of the confirmation moments in my experience as a blogger…and support 100% your instincts and explanation.
Last night, while spending time with Chris Lehmann (Practical Theory) and family at his house, we spent nearly 2 hours talking about Dan, his initial potential as an educator and blogger (whether you agree or disagree with NCLB is almost secondary here), and the sudden “jump the shark” moment that happened when he took all of his language agility, passion for kids, and willingness to take on a provocative topic with a reasonable amount of logic…and threw it overboard once he decided to ‘elevate’ the conversation via a bitter focus on the underlying value of the actual individuals involved.
I considered — until yesterday — Dan’s blog (which I most disagree with in content, but greatly valued with re: to the level of language and challenge it provided me) one of the few that I was keeping an eye on in an effort to be a better educated human being and professional. Yesterday, when he “jumped the shark” by letting go of the spirit of debate and opted for the easy-out of attack, I removed his blog feed and any interest in the development of his career.
In this blogging world, we have 2 choices: do good or do something else. And to minimize the practical truth of being a very small part of a much bigger community, and to throw overboard the potential to develop a role within a larger network of professionals (who agree or disagree is of no value), is to lose sight of what counts most.
24 hours ago, Chris and I were discussing the idea of inviting Dan to participate in hands-on, F2F conversations, to be part of something larger at the end of the day. And to learn from him as well.
Today, however, we’re moving on and both believe that the ‘value’ of Dan’s desire to attack by any means necessary has done little to shift the conversation…while simultaneously turning down the volume on his voice. Sadly, everyone else will be fine. Dan, however, may find that his classroom becomes more of a solo and self-fulfilling prophecy.
Again, Doug, I admire your putting the focus on the ‘do good’ side of the aisle, rather than seeing this as anything else.
Cheers,
Christian
Monica: This is an excellent point, and I don’t think it’s far off the mark here. My students’ blog posts and comments are moderated for the very reason you identified. I’ve had people send my students email addresses, and that is an immediate red flag to me. I scrub that information, and I discuss it openly with the kids. The are not allowed to communicate by email with people they encounter on the internet. There is also the problem of people making mean comments. One little girl got some “constructive” literary criticism – can’t find the link now – but I think it would make a good blog post. I’ll write more about this soon. Thanks for mentioning it. And it will be fun for us to hear from your students!
Christian: Thank you. It’s good to know that my intent was heard. A variety of viewpoints is welcome. They add value and interest to a discussion. But, as Michael Webb pointed out, we have to listen. Communication is a two-way process, and it works very well when it’s conducted in a spirit of cooperation.
I am a regular visitor to Sarah Puglisi’s blog. Being a teacher at an independent school, not directly affected by NCLB, I viewed Sarah’s post as a valuable contribution to elevating my degree of understanding about the impact of NCLB on the teaching and learning process. Yes, it was Sarah’s POV, but, it still enlightened and educated me, nonetheless. And, I respect and admire Sarah greatly for her honesty and transparency in her writing. Not done for fame or for fanfare, but to discuss openly the issues re: education as she sees and experiences them on a daily basis.
As a newbie blogger, this is what I am striving to do. While I do not expect those who visit my blog to agree with my POV, I do expect them to respect and honor it, and to add to the debate with an informed perspective.
Having read Doug’s post here, which led me to read Dan’s, I was saddened. While I have not been a regular reader of Dan’s blog, I am saddened that for whatever his reasons for blog bashing Sarah were, he, as an educator failed to inform and enlighten in a way we should expect all educators to inform and enlighten. We have to be our own best advocates. Not necessarily agree, but, as you say, Doug, to LISTEN.
This post and subsequent comments illustrate one of the advantages of blogging–the ability to “try out” our ideas. If a writer has the humility to accept that his ideas have some room for improvement, that her posts may generate additional thought through which we can learn, then “blogging” is a conversation. However, if the writer believes his blog is a pulpit from which all can improve thanks to attendance, he will gain little. As someone who manages teachers, and tries to lead, I find both points of view in any faculty. There are those teachers who welcome my suggestions for improvement and seek out new ideas and there are those who just wait for me to stop talking so that they can continue. Those whom I can hope to influence and those with whom I haven’t got a prayer. Bloggers mirror the same.
There’s that guy at the party, the one talking loudly, talking boorishly and broadly about any subject in which he fancies himself an expert. He’s that guy who, no matter how anyone tries to tell him, “Psst … listen, hey, you’re being a real jerk here. Gotta check it back a bit,” whether they tell him gently, firmly, angrily, or patronizingly, he just doesn’t get it, keeps at it, and pretty soon you’ve got no other choice but to cut the miserable bastard’s RSS feed and move on.
It’s been such a weird experience recently being that guy.
A lot of smart folks whose writing I respect are in agreement that I’ve upset the blogobalance, and I can appreciate that, even though I don’t understand it. For all those talking about listening, teaching, and understanding intent, please teach the jerk here.
Specifically, he — I — I don’t understand why Sarah’s post has received such a fond pat on the back for her “point of view,” “honesty,” and “heartfelt lament,” when, frequently throughout her post, from my perspective, she stoops to a very ugly level. She speaks for NCLB sympathizers and ventriloquizes them in some really repugnant ways, which I quoted in my comment, which Doug saw fit to redact. “Eat the young, there’s money to be had;” “Art is dead;” “Thought is dead.” ” … the destroyers of “school culture, arts, and practically childhood for many students.” She intimates racism at one point.
I get that you most of you agree with her ideology and disagree with mine. But most have stated plainly this isn’t about what we believe, but how rudely or politely we go about believing it.
And seriously, I realize I realize I realize I’m already that guy at the party, which owes me no favors from any of you, but very few of you have helped me mentally justify why Sarah’s language is cool (slandering an ideology and all of those who claim it) and why my post was so much the opposite (slandering — and “slandering” is a concession I’m hesitant to make — the delivery of the ideology). Doug, you go in a direction that is unhelpful by pointedly censoring that particular portion of my comment at Wasserman’s. Readings are selective, true, but with that one ellipsis, by excising my objective critique of how Sarah’s words were so ugly, you make it hard for me determine why my words were instead.
The jerk feels awkward now. He wants to stay at the party. He’s gonna stay at the party because a large part of him knows he’ll eventually be some good for the party. He wants to understand how to function better and more sociably at the party. But while people are explaining to him gently, firmly, angrily, and patronizingly why he needs to check it back a bit, they’re heralding a girl on the other side of the room, who, to his mind, is louder and more boorish than he is.
I realize this shouldn’t be about the lesser of two jerks, but I find the messages mixed, to say the least.
So I’ll go ahead and avail myself of that time-out you offer, Doug. For a stretch, I’ll be refraining from policy debate and, certainly, from calling other bloggers out in public forums. It’s clear to you all that I’ve committed party fouls all across the Internet. I respect that, even while it’s unclear to me. Most seem content to write me and this off as quickly as possible and move onto blogging better. Fair enough. If anybody has the patience to spell it out to me, real slow-like, I’ll check back here or feel free to drop an e-mail: dan at mrmeyer dot com. Obliged in advance.
Doug,
Just a quick thank you for having the courage to speak about this. Eloquence and hair-splitting over supposed intent cannot change a bad idea into a good one. Many are reading, carefully watching what is said here. And oh yeah, thank you Sarah! – Mark
I went for a walk this morning and was listening to a podcast on my iRiver (Doug, I know you aren’t that keen on audio as way of transmitting ideas
) and as usual, being someone who is behind the times, I was listening to an EdTech Talk episode from back in October just before the K-12 Online Conference and Darren Kuropatwa and Sheryl Nussbaum-Beach. And just a little snippet of conversation from Sheryl regarding her research on online and blogging communities brought up the role of “trust” when participating in the education blogging world. It rang true for me and I think maybe it’s the missing ingredient that has turned the experience sour for a few people in this latest example of online conversation across several blogs.
Dan, you know that I’ve sought you out for clarification and you reciprocated in a way that doesn’t breach the trust. And your analogy about the party is quite good and I reckon that if you’re hosting the party, (i.e on your blog) the floor is yours on whatever topic you want, whatever point of view or ideology you want. So here we both are, at Doug’s party and he’s trusting we are not going to get rowdy or start giving anyone else who feels safe here a hard time. It’s his topic, his blog and we need to respect his ground rules for engagement. I don’t think it’s the Biggie Smalls post that’s the issue, it’s the breaching of trust on Sarah’s blog where you told her how you thought she should be engaging with the topic of her choice in language that was less than diplomatic. Using your analogy, her party, her blog and Sarah spells out pretty clearly where she’s coming from in her About Me section – if you don’t like the look of the party, perhaps there are other places to express your dissatisfaction.
I felt guilty myself, because it was my own blog post that gave you directions to her blog. Maybe being Australian doesn’t give me any right to expressing any opinion about another country’s educational program, even by association. But you didn’t go off to Marg O’Connell’s blog (who I paired with Sarah’s link) and engage there maybe because that was a foreign party, in another sector of education – I don’t want to predict your motives. The trust factor is big in blogging. I trust Doug because I’ve read him over a long period of time, we’ve exchanged comments, chat and e-mail anecedotes and established a collegiality that is real and reaps benefits for both of us. I have other trusted connections to bloggers that I’ve introduced to Doug and vice versa. Sarah was one of those and the trust factor says, “Your friend is my friend.”
Dan, I’m not writing you off and who am I to be dismissive in that way anyway? If you want to engage with those voices you truly respect, and it’s obvious that Sarah has plenty who respect her voice, then you need to rebuild the trust with the Christian’s and Chris’s of the edublogosphere. If you don’t wish to engage with me or Doug or Mark or Miss Profe because we have too much sympathy for each other’s viewpoint, that’s your call to make. I think that’s what I tried to do over at your blog, diplomatically express myself while realising that you are the party host and your mates can wade in and be more open because they know you already, but if I want to be treated seriously there, I don’t stomp all over your carefully constructed online space for personal learning.
I hope that this adds to this conversation here – you’re too smart to need things spelt out slow-like. It’s about what personal standards of engagement you choose to use for conversation with others on their own piece of cyber-turf. It’s about the trust.
Graham,
Thanks for taking the time, brah. This helps.
Dear Dan,
I picked up some buzz about your blog a month or so ago, visited, saw intelligence and eloquence (common enough in edublogs, though above average in yours), but didn’t subscribe.
Why?
Two words: Tone. Persona.
I recently assigned my student bloggers to visit six other student blogs at our school, and to describe the blogger strictly by the blogger’s words, images, tone, and chosen topics to blog about.
“Let the writer see herself as her readers do. Hold a mirror to her, and show her her appearance–as caused by her writings.”
Feedback from a mere (yet passionate, creative, called, inspired, happy) English teacher. Hope it helps, because that’s my intent. That’s half the English teacher’s job: to awaken self-reflection.
This fascinating debate/flame war, whatever, reminds me of something I wanted to say at the time of Borderland’s comments bust-up: altho the commenters were a little rude and abrasive, I thought their concerns were genuine, and deserved serious responses. However, everyone seemed to get ticked off at their attitude, and no-one really seriously tackled their questions. This was disappointing. It merely reinforces their attitude that teachers on this side of the debate are a bunch of whiners who only wish to avoid accountability. I think Dan is a little naive in his enthusiasm for NCLB, but if the arguments against it are good, then surely they should be made clearly. What is so fascinating and disappointing, is that the two “camps” seem to find no common ground, not to be able to speak the same language. I think it is important that they communicate.
Marco, your analysis of the discussion, and its lack of substance is a criticism that I heard the last time ’round through one of my other correspondents. You’re right about the need for us to communicate. There is probably a lesson here for all of us, as you say, and I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the assumptions that support the various postitions. There are fundamental differences in point of view that lead people to opposite conclusions. It’s difficult to unpack all of that in a blog comment box, but I can see that I need to address it directly. It’s time. Thank you.
I truly appreciate Graham’s comments, as I am new to this
type of interaction myself. Hopefully, Doug will not mind my making a comment about something Christian said here:
I can’t help but wonder why is it that we seem to be ready to dismiss a person, who until yesterday we considered valuable, based on one mistake, at least what we perceive as a mistake (lack of links to the offensive posts/comments makes this an educated guess based on Christian’s comment)? When you are having a conversation with another person and they say something you disagree with, or they say it in a tone you don’t appreciate, do you immediately dismiss them, and turn your back on them? I would like to think that we are more generous than that. I would like to think that we would point out what it is that bothered us. I would like to think that we might want to teach our students how to engage in conversation and debate, and to be example ourselves.
Doug, I am sorry if this was more of the same.
No, your remarks are not “more of the same,” and I appreciate your intention to reach common ground, as Marco Polo suggested. For the record, Dan wrote an apology.
I’m thinking now about how to productively address this important discussion. There are a lot of different issues involved, each of them worth exploring.
I too was disturbed by how quickly some people were willing to write Dan off based on a couple of abbrasive comments. As I said before,
I have some experience in Dan’s shoes, and looking at the situation from the outside, I can see both why people sometimes reacted negatively towards me and why I was nevertheless justified in becoming frustrated by the dismissal of my ideas. Dan’s willingness and readiness to apologize spoke well of him, and I think we owe him the courtesy of assuming he is well intentioned. We also owe ourselves and our educational system the courtesy of answering the toughest questions we can come up with, no matter how those questions are delivered.
I read a good post in the librarian blogosphere about “charitable reading” (regrettably I can not find the link) noting that we’d all be best served by assuming that our colleagues have nothing but good intentions when they post. Mistakes should be tolerated as long as they are acknowledged, and ideas should not be cut off to spite the face they came from. I look forward to the day that I myself can achieve such a sanguine state of mind.
I am eager to read your further thoughts on this, Doug. I just came upon your blog during the course of following this issue, but I can already appreciate the depth and clarity of your writing.
I left a comment on Dan’s blog: I think he’s a little lacking in perspective, historical perspective for instance, or an economic one. He clearly has a different way of thinking and writing from Sarah. He clearly has trouble understanding Sarah’s writing, and in his frustration criticizes her writing (or typing?). The kind of writing like Sarah’s drives him nuts, and he’s so frustrated by it that, rather than trying to understand it, he feels this kind of writing is either a deliberate ploy to evade the direct questions, or is a sign of laziness and sloppy standards. He’s a math teacher, altho, as someone pointed out (Dan, perhaps?) I don’t think this will boil down to a “science vs arts” divide. (Altho perhaps he would enjoy and benefit from watching Dr Neil deGrasse Tyson’s presentation The Epiphany of an Educator.)
For some reason, I feel it’s really important for people like Dan and Sarah to understand and each other, not necessarily agree with each other, but at least understand each other. There’s a really neat (short and pithy) article by the late Neil Postman on how teachers and business people talk past each other, and how they could both benefit from learning to understand and listen to each other’s language (I think it’s in Conscientious Objections). I heartily recommend it.
Dan asks (not unreasonably): So after this month of reading, reflecting, and writing, I’ve got a line in the sand I can draw: as a teacher, do you reject assessment measures for teachers outright?
If the answer is no, then do you endorse assessment measures for teachers?
And if the answer is yes, then do you endorse assessment measures, just not those of NCLB?
Dan likes to have things neat and tidy. He wants answers to HIS questions, and feels perplexed when people dance round the issue, something which he sees as duplicitous or dishonest – just answer the damn question, willya!
The problem is, his questions beg other questions: the issue is larger than he at the moment seems able to grasp. And people can have really different ways of thinking, feeling, and expressing, and yet still be committed, enthusiastic, dedicated teachers, just like he seems to be.
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[...] To see what I mean, skim–just skim–this article (it’s not by the math teacher, but by another teacher who the math teacher offended by attacking another woman on her edublog), and notice, especially in the comments at the bottom, how much this blogger is paying for his tone, his voice, his choices as a writer. [...]
[...] Marco Polo left a comment, saying: …if the arguments against it [NCLB] are good, then surely they should be made clearly. What is so fascinating and disappointing, is that the two “camps” seem to find no common ground, not to be able to speak the same language. I think it is important that they communicate. [...]
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