Conan O'Brien, commencement genius. Mike Rawlings, Dallas mayor. Are things looking up in education?

Conan O'Brien delivered the commencement address at Dartmouth on June 12.  If you haven't treated yourself to the whole enchilada (full, 24-minute-long, video is posted here) or at least a little genius sampler (a 4-minute-long video of the highlights), I suggest you make your own day by doing so immediately.

Some of the quotes I enjoyed include:

"Whether you fear it or not, disappointment will come. The beauty is that through disappointment you can gain clarity; and with clarity comes conviction and true originality."

He unflinchingly accounts his rise to his "dream job" and what the job actually turned out to be for him.

'There are few things more liberating in this life than having your worst fear realized.'

His hilarity runs all the way through, but you have to believe, watching him don that silly graduation hat and Jimmy Neutron hair, even the people we think of as uber 'successful' have their own heap of failures and disappointments.  It's cliche because it's true: it isn't what happens but how we react that eventually determines where we land.  This is the lesson I want to impart to my children. The lesson I want to be true. The lesson it took until my thirties to begin to grasp.  O'Brien also noted, to my great relief, and I'm paraphrasing here--success (or not) at a career does not define you.  That I desperately want to believe.  But honestly it's my Achille's heel.  What constitutes success, after all?  Starring on Broadway?  Publishing a New York Times bestseller?  What was all that expensive 'education' for?

I got my MFA in acting, spent over a decade involved heavily with the theater, all through high school, college, graduate school, and four years in L.A., but ultimately, for reasons too long and tangential for this post, I went a different direction.  But I will say it was not without a lot of trying, many a retarded commercial audition, and a lot of heartache and tears.  I have to admit, there are still times I ask myself "am I a quitter?".  At my twenty-year high school reunion a couple of years ago, friends and frankly many people I have no recollection of every roaming the halls with kept ambling up and chirping versions of, "I thought you would be in New York!" and "I always thought you'd be a famous actress!"  I smiled and tried not to disappear into my over-sweet too liquored punch and willed the topic to die.  You know, it's just so NOT "Go for the gold, Ponyboy!"  There's no movie about the guy (or girl) who makes the sensible decision to put his original dream away for one that seems more doable.  I watch "The Rookie" or "Rocky", one of those feel good movies about the old guy (or girl) going back for the brass ring and making it dammit, with that extra stick-to-itiveness, that won't-take-no-for-an-answer, and yep, I  feel a twinge of regret.  

But often my son is watching beside me, and his face is perfect in the screen light.  And my daughter slides her carefree arm across the tray of her highchair, crust and bananas and rice and vegetables free falling, while looking me in the eye and grinning mischievously.  My husband says something so uniquely him, so whip smart funny, that I remember.  This reality is not a dream.  It's not perfect.  It is real.
  
Sometimes I wonder if I had "made it"--if my original dream of becoming a successful actress in L.A. or New York had happened--would I have looked at the life I have now--gorgeous children, loving husband, anonymity even--and imagined the grass greener?  Or would I rise in my profession, and the dream turned out to be something other than I imagined it would be?  Maybe I would have felt like Conan O'Brien when NBC blew up: "There are few things more liberating in this life than having your worst fear realized."  I have to be content with knowing I will never know.  By virtue of taking one course we are saying no to another.

Of course it doesn't have to be black and white: this past Saturday afternoon, for example, I acted in a reading, performed with scripts in hand (ironically cast as a principal, the play set in a public high school), at Kitchen Dog Theater.  We only had one rehearsal and I felt a little rusty those first few lines, suddenly throat dry nervous in the knowledge that an audience was watching me.  But then something clicked; I remembered to look at the actor I was talking to, focus on the words, make it about what was happening between us instead of what was up with me.  And it was so fun!  I love the play, and I loved playing actor for a few hours, before I went home to my family. 

So what the hell does this have to do with Conan O'Brien or the commencement speech that should be required listening?  That we all of us have those ships that didn't sail and that star that did not appear.  We can either spend our time looking back wishing or we can look at what is in front of us, accept it for what it is, and get on with it.  We can make it up from here however we want to.  I'm not saying I'm always successful at this endeavor, but I'm working on it.  The movie, after all, follows that brilliant Aristotelian three act structure--beginning, middle, and end.  The theme is usually discernable.  You throw away the remnants of your popcorn.  But in real life, the end, remember, is death.  Like in a box or sprinkled over the sea, or heaven or hell, or whatever your belief system, so what are we rushing toward? We don't know the particulars of our particular end, but we know there is one, end of story. 

Assessing the freshness of now, start any story we have the time, energy, and passion for.  Like, for instance, we have a brand new shiny mayor, Mike Rawlings, who promises to make public education a priority. Today I look to that, I vote on that, to hopefully begin to put an uplifting end to this young generation's  story.  Tomorrow, hey, who knows?  


What do you think, dear readers?  I would love to know.

STS Statewide Conference, July 15th & 16: get involved in 2012 primary and election either to support existing pro-education candidates or to help find new candidates to replace current legislators who have failed in their responsibilities.

This is a cut and paste from an email received from savetxschools.com.
CHECK OUT THEIR WEBSITE FOR MORE INFORMATION; THEY ALSO HAVE A FACEBOOK PAGE.


Save Texas Schools Statewide Conference in July!

Join hundreds of other concerned Texans at the STS Statewide Conference on Friday evening, July 15 and all day on Saturday, July 16 in Austin!

Did you know that some groups are already planning who will run in the primary elections next spring? That others are already active in finding even more candidates who believe that the cuts to education in this session didn't go deep enough? That recent polling shows that worries about education have moved to the top of list for Texans?

If we are going to take back Texas, we need to begin now! The failure of the current legislature was determined by the election last November. Let's get behind those who are pro-education and will keep their word to stand up for our children and schools!

The STS July conference will equip you with tools to get involved in the 2012 primary and election wherever you live, either to support existing pro-education candidates or to help find new candidates to replace current legislators who have failed in their responsibilities. We'll have morning and afternoon breakout sessions by region to meet with experts about strategizing to be successful in your area. We'll also learn how to mobilize our neighbors to vote and explain to them in simple terms that Texas can fund quality education for all.

Click here to register now! Space is limited. Cost is $30 each, including a light breakfast and lunch on Saturday. We're also negotiating to get reduced rates for hotels. Scholarships are available to teachers or staff who have lost jobs due to the cuts.

Look soon for our list of speakers and complete agenda!

Our Mission

Save Texas Schools is a nonpartisan coalition, focused on education. Just as the Tea Party has made its mandate cutting government (including education) to the bone, our mandate will be to provide efficient and effective education to ALL children, no matter what their situation. If we are to have a state that works together, rather than a state of haves and have nots, we MUST make sure that ALL students are given the opportunity to succeed. Texas is currently tied for 3rd in having the highest percentage of children living in poverty. For a state blessed with incredible resources, both in land and people, we have no excuses. Let's elect a legislature that has a vision for a better future than walled neighborhoods and minimum wage jobs (Texas also leads the nation in the percentage of workers who work for minimum wage).

We won't get fooled again! Knowing that the 2013 session will start with another huge deficit, let's start now to elect a legislature with the courage and vision to invest in the future of all Texans!

She crawls!!!!!!

It actually took place Saturday and I'm just now getting around to blogging it, yet MAKE NO MISTAKE: that is not because I wasn't floored (no pun intended).  She is the girl who crawled (shout out to you Harry Potter fans).
I was gone all day Saturday at PupFest, an amazing joint venture put on by Kitchen Dog Theater and Junior Players wherein student playwrights are given directors, actors, rehearsal space, and ultimately an audience after a week of rehearsals which culminates in a reading of their plays.  I was a playwright mentor, which I've been for several years now, assigned to three playwrights to help cull the best version of their project, which sometimes means adding and sometimes means cutting and occasionally means crying, but is almost always by end satisfying.  This year was no exception.  
But I wasn't home, and Brad had the kids.  During an afternoon visit to his mother's assisted living building, apparently while no one was doing much of anything, the girl was scooting her bottom across the soft carpet, and this movement somehow morphed into a crawl.  Which doesn't sound miraculous unless you've read previous posts about our developmental delay diagnosis and subsequent baby calisthenics and a certain torturous purple exercise ball, the vision of which frequently reduces my daughter and I to snot and tears.  Because many days, as we attempt the seemingly interminable exercises and Isabel looks at me like she wants to bite me, and I wonder in my head and even aloud if there is ANY POINT to this, it turns out that it was probably actually doing more than just making both of us crazy.
I did not find out about the day's milestone right when I got home--apparently because Brad didn't want to jinx it by making too big a deal out of it (what if Isabel doesn't crawl awhile, I can hear his sturdy brain churning rationally, and my wife punishes me for the next two weeks for being the first to see?)--but later that night, Brad called me into the bedroom. Isabel had scooted to the doorway and apparently had another irresistible urge to situate herself on all fours and crawl several steps toward me, beaming. I dropped to the floor and picked her up, and yes, schmuck that I am, I was crying. She was so freaking proud of herself, her smile literally taking up all of her face.  See, ye of little faith? her sea green eyes seemed to question.  Give me a minute. I was getting to it.
She's on her own timetable.  She thumbs her button nose at babycenter.com, drools liberally on your average fourteen-month-old baby.  Because she is uniquely wonderfully terrifyingly her, not content to fit into whatever box might make it easier, and while she can't yet speak, she's telling me loud and clear she knows it, she feels pretty damn good about it actually, and by the way mom, maybe you should put your big girl pants on. This is only the beginning.

Amazing Article from smart mom in Houston! Go Sue!!!!

This letter is, as far as I can tell, pretty damn close to perfect.


Choosing to shortchange our kids
Children will pay for cuts to education
By SUE DEIGAARD MOTHER of TWO

Last week I traveled to the state Capitol in Austin to testify before the House Appropriations
Committee and the Senate Finance Committee. The clerk in the House committee initially did not accept my form because in the box that asked for my title I simply wrote, "Parent in Houston ISD." Which makes me wonder, since when do people in America need a title to make their voices heard in their government? So I added to my title, "Taxpayer and Voter.
The message I delivered to the committee members was simple.
I reminded them that the cuts they are proposing to public education in Texas are a choice.The Legislature may have reached a consensus to cut "only" $4 billion from public education and think that we will consider it a gift that they did not cut the $10 billion that was originally proposed. But it's not a gift.
They are still cutting per-pupil spending by not providing money to fund expected growth in student population. This will have a direct and noticeable impact on children in the classroom. Every time we remove an educational opportunity from a child's environment, it sends the message that that opportunity is not valuable. The decisions our legislators are making will permanently alter how public education will be funded. Those decisions will affect the education of a generation of Texas children, which will have political and economic repercussions that will last for years to come.For one thing, education is the foundation of democracy. And it is a statistical fact that those without an adequate education are more likely to be incarcerated, are more likely to be unemployed and are more likely to draw on social services funded by tax dollars. All of these things cost taxpayers money,and even for those who might choose private school or home schooling for their children, the cost of inadequately educating Texas children will cost all of our children as taxpayers when they grow up.
Our legislators have a choice.
A popular talking point among many members of this Legislature is, "Just like a household, the state needs to live within its means." I don't know about you, but if I had to cut my discretionary spending to the point that I was compromising the education and well-being of my children, I would get a second job to bring more revenue into my home. And I certainly wouldn't cut essential things to my children while money sat in my savings account. Our state officials can make the same choices. They can use our state's savings account, the self-replenishing rainy day fund, but they choose not to. They can generate more revenue in a way that isn't a burden on property owners, such as closing corporate loopholes or fixing the business margins tax, but they choose not to. They claim this budget is balanced, but it's not. A balanced budget would not just cut nonessential services and programs. It would also use available savings and increased revenue to continue to maintain essential services and programs such as public education. We aren't asking anything from our state Legislature that we wouldn't choose to do for our own families.
I have met with several legislators this spring. I find it disingenuous for those legislators who say their voters don't want their taxes raised in the very same conversation recommend that local school districts raise their taxes. What that says to me is that they feel the solution is more revenue. If that is the case, then it is incumbent on our Legislature to raise that revenue in a holistic way that doesn't continue to overburden property owners, and not in a way that is most convenient for their political careers. Our kids need to be put before politics.  Make no mistake about it, our legislators have a choice and they are making the choice to cut funding from our children's classrooms.

Deigaard is a parent of two daughters who attend elementary school in the Houston Independent School District.

LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!!

So this is Jack's last day of first grade.  Or as he put it this morning, "I'm 99.9% second- grader already."  Dropping him off with his gifts for his teacher (yes, the boy wrote her a poem) and principal (after realizing how hard a poem was, he went for a more straightforward letter, but it was gorgeous and tear-provoking and contained the word "magical", or "magicil" as he spelled it, but I've never been one for editing my children).  We will miss Hexter Elementary.  I have adored so many people.  I pray we are making the best decision.  As for Isabel, well I think this picture says it all: the girl reminds me daily a.) just how much drool there really is in the world, and b.) what joy looks like.  Guess life continues on whether the milestone chart says you're up to date or not.  Hmm.

Now we charge into the unknown summer, certain to be filled with sweat, tears, and yes possibly a little blood.  I wouldn't have it any other way.