Retreating into Summer

Another school year ends. This one ends on a quiet, humble note. I struggled to balance elements of my work this spring. And though I'm proud of how I made myself more available as a father and supportive colleague, I've done a poorer job at managing the behind-the-scenes elements of teaching. I feel like I've had a hard time, also, managing the balance between preparing my students for big assessments vs. convincing them of the "so what" merits of the discipline I teach. I also struggled, more than I wish, with balancing the need to be approachable vs. being an authority figure. 

Simultaneously, I've seen my political feelings and affiliations change a lot over the last year. 

So though much has happened in my life that makes me happy (family, friends, faith, in short) I find that I've had fewer days where the impulse to write was there. Perhaps the summer will see the return of that impulse. Surely it will on my other blog, where I muse about my time as a dad in the summers. 

Blue

I switched my voter registration Wednesday after a day of reflection. As soon as the Montgomery County Board of Elections receives the information I'll be a Democrat after 22 years of being registered Republican.

Blue for my new party's color. Blue for my mood (I'm sad about it). Blue for the color of the Dallas Cowboys, whose jersey I feel like I just donned. I guess it isn't that bad. I guess.

My switch came after a day of reflection about what Mr. Trump's victory in Indiana had meant. I had resolved that if he were made the nominee at the convention, I'd switch. I decided to beat the rush and switch now.

Back to the blue feeling. I'm dismayed because I grew up associating good things with the Republicans. My first presidents that I remember were Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, an optimist followed by a decent man and statesman. The presumptive nominee is neither, and the mood propelling his nomination is neither optimistic or decent. Truth be told, though, I couldn't vote for Senator Cruz, either, and I've become increasingly out of step with the party's ideas, most intensely at the state and local level.

So I need to assign blame to those responsible for soiling the party for which I rooted and supported for more than two decades. In order of culpability:

1) Congressional Republicans who mistook blind obstructionism for responsible governance.

2) Mr. Trump, for selfishly employing rhetoric that appeals to the American population's more base instincts.

3) President Obama for missing opportunities to meet his opposition half way and thus neutralize the impulses behind reason #1.

4) Voters like me for not looking at the long-run picture from 2009 to the present in our electoral decisions.

So, go blue. It's weird to think I'll be supporting the Clinton candidacy given how much I resented the tone and legislation of her husband's administration in the 1990s. Life changes. Elections have consequences. I'll sleep much more easily with the consequences of a Democratic victory this November.

Elections have consequences

Here's a shocking headline from a nearby community:

New Hope-Solebury is one of the most affluent areas in the whole state of Pennsylvania. It has one of the highest median incomes, one of the highest rates of educational attainment, one of the highest average home values. That their board has to consider charging students a fee to merely attend school should shame the voters those board members represent. The money exists in this district to fund what the students need. The community has simply chosen not to do so.

This Difficult Election

I'll likely be changing my registration after the April primary election in Pennsylvania. I have been a Republican since first registering to vote in 1994. After I get the chance to cast my ballot for the primary, I'll likely have to leave the party, and become one of the somewhat rare Americans who switch their party affiliation. I'll become a Democrat. Somewhere, the 1993 arch-conservative version of Chris Johnson is shuddering.

What's prompting this change? The likely nomination of businessman Donald Trump. He doesn't possess the temperament, ethics, or grounding in public sector to be deserving of the presidency. And, if he is the nominee of the Republican Party, then the party's values are too incongruous with my own.

This is hard to do. Few Americans stray to the other party from where they were brought up. I was brought up in a Republican household. And I'm proud of that background. I'm proud to have been a member of the party of Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, and Reagan. But now I must cross to the other tribe. In part this is necessary because of Pennsylvania's closed primary system: I take the democratic process too seriously to forfeit my chance to choose nominees, which I'd be doing if I were independent. More importantly, I must do this to make my protest of Mr. Trump as nominee more complete. If he's the party's nominee for the President of the United States, then I cannot be a member of the party. It's as simple as that.

Both of our political parties have their flaws. Democrats tend to underestimate the true costs of their desired policies. They also tend to overestimate the benefits of their desired policies. Republicans, on the other hand, tend to exaggerate the threat posed by liberal ideas and are a bit too quick to dismiss the benefits that come from government involvement in the economy. Regardless of the party I join, these flaws remain.

The Republican party has been making me feel more unwelcome, though, in the past few years. I don't share the fear many in the party have of illegal immigration. I'm a member of a public sector union, which many in the party see as a great threat to the nation's economic and political fabric. I'm a public school teacher and a fan of school funding, which it seems the Republicans (and many Democrats, too) seem to be against. Further, the party seems to have moved on from the assertive foreign policy ideology of the Reagan era and seems to be embracing something more akin to isolationism, which bothers me greatly.

Truthfully, there's a lot to dislike about both parties and their candidates for president. No candidate is speaking seriously about entitlement reform. Any discussion of the national debt has disappeared. There's little talk of how we could use tax dollars to fund schools or build infrastructure, endeavors which can enhance long run economic growth. No candidate is putting forth a very optimistic or ambitious set of ideas about what America can do to better the world.

And I'm no big fan of our current president. Though he's a decent man, I'm dismayed at the scolding tone he too often takes on social and economic issues. I'm disheartened at the passive and pessimistic approach he takes to foreign policy. His reliance on drones to assert U.S. power abroad concerns me. That being said, he's a decent man.

Mr. Trump is not. And I can't put much trust in Senator Cruz whose zealousness in pursuing Constitutional values (not in and of itself a bad thing) has seen him engage in some destructive parliamentary tactics as a Senator. I'm left with Governor Kasich who, as a moderate, doesn't stand much of a chance.

Moderates like me don't have much of a choice.

Pennsylvania's primary election is in late April. I look forward to voting in it, and casting a vote against a man I think wholly unsuited to be President of this great nation. But once that vote is cast, and once the nomination is settled in his favor, it's time for me to go. The party of Lincoln might be high-jacked (hopefully for just one election cycle) by someone with the temperament of George Wallace, and that'll make me retreat to a party that offers me a less horrifying idea of what it means to be an American.

Taking Flight

My children came home from school on a Friday following a long week in a long string of weeks uninterrupted by weather or vacation. Normally, this is the time of year a parent is hoping their kid will limp over the informal finish line that separates winter from spring, when attitudes and effort usually regroup for the end stretch to summer. I remember having to help Sam navigate frustrating passages at the end of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade. But this year it's quiet.

Except for the sound of two happy kids. They're finding their niches, and it's neat to see.

Caroline thrives at school.

Sam is starting to find some real gifts in the way of writing.

And Sam's happiest moment of the school day? Getting to practice in an ensemble for the first time that featured strings, winds, and percussion. He was thrilled at the chance to play with a whole symphony ensemble.

I'm truly living the Goldilocks phase of parenting.

I'm baaaack . . .

*I wrote this nearly three months ago. May as well post it. I'm still bent out of shape over these developments.

And why not get this blog re-invigorated with a blatantly political post!

The only good news to come from the Harrisburg budget stalemate (or impasse) is that now newspapers are using words like that to describe the inability of the legislature to pass a budget. About a week ago, I was instead reading about the budget crisis. Crisis? What crisis? The lights are still on. Police are still patrolling. State offices are still open. And surprisingly, this is all done without a budget. Please pardon me, I'm still trying to figure out how that works.

Has Pennsylvania gone the way of the federal government, with manufactured "crises" seeming to hold up the business of government while government continues to function? There seems to be something very unserious about the manner in which our Harrisburg politicians are going about their job.

I am, though, disturbed at this stalemate in which politicians cannot seem to compromise and commit on a spending plan that intentionally lays out our priorities for using the resources of this state. The sticking point, apparently is funding schools. The governor wants to send more money to schools. Legislators might, too. But only after they exact their pound of flesh from the bogeyman du jour, public-sector unions (full disclosure: I'm a member of such a union) by reducing pension benefits. Oh, I forgot, that's another crisis. Or maybe not. I've lost track of crises.

I don't see a crisis when it comes to schools and pensions, but instead a slow-motion failure in process. There is great reluctance to fund schools. Sure, the state will likely increase funding, but only with caveats about reducing pensions and making it harder for local school boards to raise taxes to pay for programs. In other words, it's not about putting more money to work for schools, instead to shift the burden from local to state sourcing. But in so doing, the state wants to limit what it'll be contributing by limiting pensions. Oh, and don't you dare think about taxing natural gas. And, from a national standpoint: keep our hands off of Medicare and Social Security.

And all the while, what schools are expected to do continues to increase.

Meanwhile, we have an Attorney General whose law license has been suspended, who selectively releases damning evidence to defame political foes, and who applies double standards to benefit her family while persecuting her opponents. The Assembly can't decide whether or not to remove her from office.

Whew . . . glad to get that off my chest. Now, let's get to writing on more fun stuff.

Interlude

I've been very inactive in this space, haven't I. Cat got my tongue? Not exactly. But there are reasons why I'm quieter these days.

Politics, or should I say the state of politics, is one big reason. If I were to go back through my posts over the years, I'm sure I'd find political statements of which I'm relatively unsure now. The election campaign of 2016, or at least what has transpired in it so far, has been so thoroughly dispiriting, I don't know of much in politics of which I am sure any more. Self doubt may be a weakness for a politician, but for a voter it may be healthy. At some point in the future I'll vent my frustrations regarding this campaign season. But for now it's left me with little I feel like saying.

Teaching economics as opposed to history has also quieted me down. Economics is called the dismal science for a reason, and it doesn't stir my passion in the way history does. Aside from the cool logic of the discipline, and for the frequency at which "it depends" is the answer to an important question, I also find it humbling that I don't get my chances to teach writing like I used to in history. It feels as if I have less to offer my students, and that's humbling.

Teaching itself hasn't given me as much to write about, either. I'm working with a group of kids that I've seen now over two years. Every group offers its own challenges. This group (a likeable one) has fatigued me, though, and has often made me wonder if I'm getting stale in my ability to motivate. That might be overstating the matter. Still, this campaign has had the feeling of a slump, and the feeling that one is not at their best is enough to quiet one down.

I'll be back.