When There is No Magic

It’s not lost on me that my liberal family loves Halloween. The holiday of witches and wizards, magic, zombies, and demons. Of dress-up and candy and general fun and mischief.

School Halloween Party!!!!!

Of course we find this all to be very harmless, while others do not. Some schools have a ‘Harvest celebration’ while others just ignore the American tradition entirely.

I’m very big on teaching lessons around here, so parents standing by their beliefs is well-respected by me and my husband. However I am baffled as to the harm in playing pretend and getting candy- even if you take away any ‘dark’ elements of the holiday.

So while my witch and wizard enter their world of make-believe, I’d love to hear what your family does, and why when it comes to the evil Satan holiday that is Halloween.

Regardless of what your family celebrates, I do hope it includes some wonder and magic for your children…after all they are only children for a short while, and the world of reality and responsibility will smack them soon enough.

Tiny Liberal Women Pledge Allegiance Too

Considering the hilarious flack the League of Women Voters is taking over actually wanting to follow agreed upon debate procedure, I thought I would clear my family’s name in all this:

There. That should put to rest the idea that we liberal women are the downfall of all good patriots everywhere. Or something.

And by the way, the League of Women Voters = patriots. I think their track record speaks for itself.

I’m Still Inspired By Anita Hill

…because I would have told Ginny Thomas to #SUCKIT.

1997

This was the inscription on Anita Hill’s Speaking Truth to Power, given to me by my parents in 1997.

I wish more has changed in the many years that have passed. But it seems the privileged continue to feel they are owed.

The good news is we WILL stay strong and beautiful inside and out, and the next time I bust out this book…it better be because Justice Thomas and his wife have issued THEIR apology to Ms. Hill and her parents, which she asks for in the conclusion of Speaking Truth to Power

…I would like to remind you that none of you have apologized to my parents. At the time of hearing they were nearly eighty years old. They have worked hard all their lives and attempted to raise their children to fear God, seek the truth, and to respect the authority of the government…Your malicious indictment of me was an indictment of them and all that they have taught me. At a time in their lives when they should be enjoying carefree days of leisure activities, they still fear for my safety and well-being. At the very least they deserve a public apology from each of you.

How We Roll

YogiWaffles

We all have our own quirks. Some houses tell jokes. Others have game night, movie night, what have you.

Mine fake meditates in silly hats and then we all pretend to break dance with pants on our heads in our kitchen.

Help me twitter, you're my only hope #crazyspawn

Totally normal, right?

It’s A Bird. It’s a Plane. It’s a… Charter?

I left afraid the next adult my children will encounter won’t want to teach them. Won’t care if they learn. Won’t mind if they are unsuccessful, unable to read, unable to write, unable to make change.

I left crying.

I left angry.

I recently sat down with the principal, the founder, and the executive director of education of my children’s charter school and screened Waiting for Superman.

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The film takes you through the failings of our pubic education system, demonizes the teacher’s unions, and rips your heart out of your chest as you ache for the millions of children left behind, falling through the cracks, and horribly wronged by the system.

It also lifts up the charter school idea. And while I don’t feel qualified to talk about public education as a whole, I do feel like I can talk about what works for us.

Our school is different.

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And I think the difference is essential for the educational survival of so many kids, not just mine. Overlooking what I thought were unfair pot shots at teachers in the film, the overriding message hit home- the system is broken.

And what is saving kids as we haphazardly attempt to fix the broken system? The Charter. And only one-in-five of those are successful. My kids are in a charter. My kids GOT IN by the same luck and crossed fingers others experience. But what of all the millions of kids who don’t?

I feel guilty my children get a chance at an alternative education, and they don’t. It gnaws at me. As I think it should gnaw at ALL of us. And did we abandon those in a traditional public school (I’m in a PUBLIC charter) for the greener grass on the other side… leaving them to rot?

We did what we had to for our kids. And yes, the results are still out. But I can tell you this…it feels better. The stress level in our home. The lack of tears at homework time. The smiles in the morning at school time and tales of yoga in class, and leadership projects, and becoming tiny global citizens. The social, emotional, and academic needs of my kids are being addressed…they are not slaves to worksheets and filing in bubbles. They are allowed to dream, to create, to innovate, and to explore.

Which is the opportunity every child should be afforded, not just mine. Yet here we are. A documentary – a Hollywood production- is what gets us talking about education. THAT in and of itself is a sad commentary on the state of public education in America. We need a film to get us to think, or to act.

I don’t pretend to have any answers other than what I felt I had to do for my children. And that is not an answer, that’s a reaction. And all over the US parents and caregivers are reacting, some luckier than others in their solutions.

While a real, permanent, solid, solution I fear is decades away.

My Family

and I wouldn’t have them any other way….

Smarts

There a lot of talk lately about female political candidates. Women in office. Women thinking of running for office.

Occasionally we hear their stance on the issues, but usually all we hear is noise. As of late it’s been about their Facebook escapades, the names they have been called, or their college religious preferences.

And now we have women on the left arguing with women on the right over who’s doing a better job standing up for females in the political arena.

Essentially, we’re having a nice, male-style, pissing match.

I have a better idea.

Mini @queenofspain the pundit - book her CNN!!

Let’s work together.

Clearly none of us get along. Clearly we couldn’t be further apart on policy, preferences and patience. But we do agree that the treatment of women in the media and by campaigns as we head into November could use some help.

On this we agree.

Let’s use it.

You don’t have to abort a fetus and I don’t have to let my neighbor’s house burn down. You don’t have to give away your money to the poor and I don’t have to suck up to big corporations.

We just have to continue to call out the sexism we see as we do our thing.

And keep everyone focused on the issues.

The Death of Lois Lane

Hard core.

That’s the only way to describe my decade as a traditional journalist. A profession that has been thrown under the bus by my blogging colleagues. Traditional journalism doesn’t get it. They are a dying breed.

Here lies Birdie. Who tragically ran into our door tonight

When I tackled a story I only had one thing in mind- to bring the people the information they needed. I was a very old school journalist and prided myself on sharing unbiased and up to the minute news on wherever I was sent that day.

Fires. Crimes. City Council meetings. Red Carpet galas. Accidents. Weather trouble. Celebrity court hearings. Deaths.

My job was always clear. My objective very straight forward. Get to a scene, collect as much information as possible, share said information with the public.

My politics never came into play. My feelings and emotions buried. I was a journalist. I was a professional. I was there for you, the listener, the viewer.

I was very good at what I did. My investigative work had cities spending millions and landed some nice hardware on my desk. But it’s not about me. This is just to lay the background on why I struggle with the current state of journalism and the impact of new media. And struggle I do.

Make no mistake, I’m leading the charge to incorporate social media into traditional journalism. I’ve spoken on the topic at universities, conferences, and in various podcasts, twitter debates, etc.

Citizen journalists and traditional journalists are not the same. You can combine the two, but in the process you kill traditional journalism.

You can’t be a reporter and share your feelings on a subject matter. This is no-no #1 in Journalism 101 and destroys your credibility. If you open your mouth, you are henceforth a columnist, pundit, and/or blogger.

The end. Period.

This does not mean you can’t break news, investigate, or report. But it does mean you will always be taken with a grain of salt, and you are NOT ever to be considered a journalist. At least not in the traditional sense.

I am no longer a traditional journalist. I gave that up the minute I opened my mouth. I am now a blogger. A pundit. A columnist.

What traditional journalists can do is use these social media tools in their reporting. Use Facebook to promote a story. Use twitter to promote a story, use your online presence in a blog or site fashion to report .. use them as TOOLS, not as bully pulpits. That is the role of reporter. That is the role of journalist.

But I fear the abuse of these social media tools have left us with few, if not zero, real journalists. Everyone is now a social media hybrid citizen journalist. A term I loathe. I prefer to call you MOS… that’s Man on the Street.

You are all witnesses, pundits, columnists, opinion makers. You can blog all day long with facts and opinion and  speculation and use all the tools and really make a difference…but that doesn’t make you a journalist.

And I fear there are none left. No one can seem to keep their mouth shut. No one can seem to ignore the siren song of tweeting how they felt about reporting that story, or blogging the ‘behind the scenes’ of their interviews in a note over on Facebook.

When I began blogging I gave up my title as journalist. It’s as simple as that. Why? Because I respect journalism. I respect what real reporters do. I respect the profession and I certainly know what it is to be a professional journalist.

I tell this to journalism students now and they look at me stunned. How can they possibly live in a world of Facebook and Twitter and blogs where their mother’s are giving status updates on their personal lives?

It’s simple…they can’t. Traditional journalist may be an impossible feat and title for anyone entering the field. I’m not sure any real reporters make their way out of this muck that is social media. You can use the social media tools all you want, but the minute you show your human side you are pounced on for being anything other than a straight news gal.

Maybe journalists were always the ideal, but never really existed. Maybe we all strived to be straight forward and unbiased and worked our tails off to make sure we got you the news and you got it opinion free. I know I did. And I also know I firmly renounce that title now that I’ve opened up my life to the world. What bothers me is other’s haven’t. They continue to label themselves journalists without really having the back ground or education or even experience. While I laude the power of the average person and their blog, and it’s power to enact change… I cringe at what it’s done to those who have worked their entire lives to bring you the news.

Maybe this is my romanticized version of news. Maybe it’s my plea to find the light inside the darkness of so much noise and information and my hope that the cream rises to the top. But more and more I’m finding it’s not the cream, it’s the crazy, loud, brash, and obnoxious. Social media has pitted the serious journalist against the shock jock, and America loves a good train wreck.

So instead of the economy we get Jersey Shore and instead of showing all the hard working people busting their butts to free an Iranian woman from being stoned, we get the Tea Party rhetoric that feminists aren’t doing a thing to help. The noise is beating out the truth. Fiction and lies are louder than those toiling behind the scenes, with no time to defend themselves because they are actually working to make change happen.

And normally it would be the part of the journalist to find these stories, to call them out, to present the information to the public. But they are too caught up playing catch up to notice.

Maybe I’m just lamenting the passing of time. Maybe this is my ‘get off my traditional journalist lawn’ post. Or maybe I just refused to see what was always there.

Lois Lane is dead.

Or was she every really a traditional journalist? After all she was fucking Superman.