Foreword Magazine, Inc. hosts an annual awards program. Finalists represent the best books published in 2019. More than 2,000 titles, spread across 55 genres, competed for recognition, and the finalists were determined by Foreword’s editorial team.
When the editors of Rethinking Schools first conceived of The New Teacher Book, we thought back to our days as new teachers. We hoped to create the book we needed in those sometimes exhilarating, sometimes lonely, often hard first days of our teaching careers.
This book is meant as a conversation among colleagues. We hope it is a conversation that helps you keep your vision and values intact as you work in institutions that may or may not be the citadels of idealism where you imaged yourself teaching.
Our opening chapter explores how to “start strong” by building community so that students feel safe to take intellectual risks and ask tough questions, develop empathy by listening to their classmates’ stories, gain knowledge by engaging with a curriculum that puts their lives at the center, and embrace their own and others’ cultures, histories and languages.
First, we hope that you are safe and healthy. This is a stressful and frightening time for everyone, and the uncertainty of where the coronavirus pandemic is headed adds to our anxiety. Our schools are closing. Our conferences have been cancelled. Our communities are under emergency alert. We are told to practice “social distancing” to prevent the spread of the virus. And that is right — from a public health standpoint.
But we cannot allow “social distancing” to be a metaphor for how we respond to this crisis and the profound social failure it reflects. This crisis threatens to amplify inequality in countless ways, and more than ever, we need to respond from a place of community, compassion, and solidarity.
We go to press with this issue in late March and we have no idea what’s in store, or how things will have changed by the time you read this. But we know certain things about the history of crises. As Naomi Klein documented in her seminal work, The Shock Doctrine, elite groups always use crises to push “solutions” that enhance their power and profit — to pursue the “policy trinity,” as Klein puts it: “the elimination of the public sphere, total liberation for corporations, and skeletal social spending . . .” The same is already happening during this crisis, with Trump pushing tax cuts and bailouts that disproportionately benefit those who need no help, and angling to bail out his friends in the oil and gas industry as prices plummet.
On March 12, the Federal Reserve system poured an emergency infusion of $1.5 trillion into credit and financial markets. No one asked, “How will you pay for it?” The amount was nearly equal to the total student loan burden that has saddled generations with staggering debt while successive administrations pursued austerity for the many and “socialism” for the rich.
Amidst the all-too-familiar press for a corporate agenda, we can also see the outlines of a more progressive response. Activists and social movements are demanding immediate steps toward free universal health care, paid sick days and paid family and medical leave, direct subsidies to those facing loss of jobs and income, an end to evictions, a moratorium on foreclosures and utility cut-offs, and emergency housing for all who need it. We need a systemwide social justice “shock.”
As K–12 schooling moves out of buildings and onto the internet, we know that profiteers and hucksters will promote a commodified vision of teaching and learning. Who needs real teachers when students can simply be planted in front of computers? And we have already seen outfits like the Koch brothers-funded Bill of Rights Institute, stepping up advocacy of its laissez-faire capitalist ideology, embedded in online U.S. History and Government lessons about “freedom and opportunity that exist in a free society.” The right-wing loves a crisis. As the free-market guru Milton Friedman wrote in the Wall Street Journal following Hurricane Katrina in 2005, “This is a tragedy. It is also an opportunity to radically reform the educational system.”
Now is not the time to pull away from social justice education activism, but to find new ways to express it. As schools go onto the internet (at least for older students) — or into hibernation — we need to make sure this happens in a way that does not promote greater inequality. For many of our students, schools are not only sites of learning, but sources of nutrition and health care. We need to organize to protect and expand these services. As with other forms of wealth in our society, computer technology and internet access are not distributed equally. We need to ensure that whatever alternative means of teaching and learning school districts institute have equity at the center — that includes freezing standardized testing, which only magnifies inequality. And as Trump denounces the “foreign virus” that has invaded our country, we have to organize against this naked xenophobia, and to defend especially the rights of children in immigrant detention centers, who are some of its most vulnerable victims.
For almost 35 years, Rethinking Schools has argued for the defense, and for the transformation, of public schools. Because quality education — education that is participatory, joyful, hopeful, critical, antiracist, alert to cultural and linguistic diversity, academically rigorous, and that equips students to build a better world — is a human right. But so is health care. So is housing. So is clean water and affordable energy. So is meaningful work. So is transportation. And so is a stable climate. These are all components of the more democratic and egalitarian society that we want for our students and for ourselves.
Ricardo Levins Morales
The coronavirus crisis is horrific, and even in its early days has led to great suffering, and widespread terror. But this crisis is not a time of retreat; it is a time to insist on, to organize for, an agenda of human rights and wealth redistribution. Has there ever been a time when the need for universal free health care was more essential — and more obvious? Or paid family and medical leave? Or for everyone to have guaranteed access to clean water and a safe place to live?
So yes, please wash your hands, and then raise them, to continue to fight for equality and justice.
First, we hope that you are safe and healthy. This is a stressful and frightening time for everyone, and the uncertainty of where the coronavirus pandemic is headed adds to our anxiety. Our schools are closing. Our conferences have been cancelled. Our communities are under emergency alert.
This crisis threatens to amplify inequality in countless ways, and more than ever, we need to respond from a place of community, compassion, and solidarity. Through it all, Rethinking Schools remains committed to providing social justice teaching, storytelling, and resources during these uncertain times.
Now is not the time to pull away from social justice education activism, but to find new ways to express it. As schools go onto the internet — or into hibernation — we need to make sure this happens in a way that does not promote greater inequality. For many of our students, schools are not only sites of learning, but sources of nutrition and health care. We need to organize to protect and expand these services. As with other forms of wealth in our society, computer technology and internet access are not distributed equally. We need to ensure that whatever alternative means of teaching and learning school districts institute have equity at the center — that includes suspending standardized testing and expanding resources to serve the immediate needs of school communities. And as Trump denounces the “foreign virus” that has invaded our country, we have to organize against this naked xenophobia, and to defend especially the rights of children in immigrant detention centers, who are some of its most vulnerable victims.
The coronavirus crisis is horrific, and even in its early days has led to great suffering. But this crisis is not a time of retreat; it is a time to insist on, to organize for, an agenda of human rights and wealth redistribution. Has there ever been a time when the need for universal free health care was more essential — and more obvious? Or paid sick leave? Or for everyone to have guaranteed access to clean water and a safe place to live?
If you have a story to share about hope, inspiration, and organizing during the COVID-19 pandemic, please consider submitting it to Rethinking Schools.
So let’s wash our hands, and then raise them in the fight for equality and justice.
Rethinking Schools Board, Editors, and Staff
“We need to teach every young person the human impacts of climate change and how to combat the climate crisis before it is too late.” By Bill Bigelow
Congresswoman Barbara Lee (D-Calif.) met with press on Thursday Sept. 19, 2019 to announce that she would be introducing a House Resolution in support of teaching climate change in schools. (Photo: @RepBarbaraLee)
This story is part of Covering Climate Now, a global collaboration of more than 250 news outlets to strengthen coverage of the climate story.
In May of 2016, the school board in Portland, Oregon, passed what is believed to be the first comprehensive climate education resolution in the country. It called for climate justice curriculum, increased professional development, support for student activism, and for the school district to abandon the use of text materials that deny the human roots of the climate crisis or minimize its effects.
“Imagine if young people throughout the United States had a climate justice education that asked them to consider the roots of the climate crisis, to examine the profoundly unequal ways the crisis is manifesting itself throughout the world, and to think of themselves as activists who can make the world cleaner, safer, and more equal.”
This climate education work gets a big boost today from Rep. Barbara Lee (D-Calif.) who is remembered for her courageous stand as the only member of Congress to vote against the authorization of the use of force in the wake of the Sept. 11 attacks.
Like Portland’s school board resolution, this is not only a call for more “climate literacy.” Lee’s resolution also emphasizes that the climate crisis is a social crisis. In introducing the resolution, she said, “We need to teach every young person the human impacts of climate change and how to combat the climate crisis before it is too late.”
The resolution emphasizes that “climate change is a generational social justice, racial justice, and human rights issue.” It has been endorsed by diverse education and environmental justice organizations, including the American Federation of Teachers, the Sierra Club, the National Center for Science Education, the Mom’s Clean Air Force, Students for Climate Action, and Rethinking Schools.
The resolution begins from the premise that student climate activism is essential, but “in order to meaningfully act upon our changing climate and changed world, young people need education about its causes, consequences, anticipated future impacts, and possible solutions.” And, “when students engage in a climate change curriculum, they can develop a greater sense of efficacy about their capacity to address critical social and environmental issues.”
The congresswoman’s House Resolution emphasizes, a changing climate “disproportionately affects students of color and students in poverty, thereby exacerbating existing inequalities and limiting equality of opportunity.”
Lee is also a co-sponsor of HR 109, The Green New Deal—the most ambitious Congressional statement outlining how to tackle the climate crisis, and simultaneously address broader social inequality. But as Rethinking Schools magazine editors pointed out in a recent editorial, as ambitious as the Green New Deal is, it never mentions the word schools.
Thus, Lee’s resolution is a welcome gesture, reminding her colleagues—and everyone else—that the climate crisis especially affects young people, that young people are and will be at the center of those demanding action, and that the Green New Deal has profound implications for our schools.
Here in Portland, Oregon, where I work with the Portland Public Schools Climate Justice Committee, emboldened by the promises of the school board’s 2016 climate justice resolution, last spring, students and climate activists raised a series of demands for more robust implementation of the resolution. One of these demands was that the school district hire someone whose only job would be to promote climate justice education throughout the school district—working with students, frontline communities, environmental and social justice organizations, teachers, administrators, and with the school district’s Climate Justice Committee. In May, Portland’s school board authorized funds for this position, and the country’s first “Climate Change and Climate Justice Programs Manager” begins work next week.
In a statement Thursday, Rep. Lee said, “By failing to address climate change in a meaningful way, we are failing our children—and they know it.”
Imagine if young people throughout the United States had a climate justice education that asked them to consider the roots of the climate crisis, to examine the profoundly unequal ways the crisis is manifesting itself throughout the world, and to think of themselves as activists who can make the world cleaner, safer, and more equal. The House Resolution now introduced by Rep. Barbara Lee may be an important step in that direction.
This story is part of Covering Climate Now, a global collaboration of more than 250 news outlets to strengthen coverage of the climate story.
The first week of school in Anchorage, Alaska, was held amid an amber haze of smoke from forest fires south and north of the city.
School buildings, choked with lung-tingling micro-particles of ash, had inhabitants consigned to air quality deemed to be a health risk. Teachers and students complained of headaches.
Anchorage, meanwhile, has seen a mere trickle of rain all summer, less than an inch total. This summer will be southcentral Alaska’s driest ever. The federal Drought Monitor classified the area as being in “extreme drought.”
“This is rare event,” an Alaska climate scientist told the Anchorage Daily News. “It will be less rare in the future.”
The school curriculum hardly mentions the gloomy, suffocating conditions outside, just more evidence of a climate catastrophe. That topic, the big one visible outside our windows and the underlying cause for the sooty air everyone was breathing, is relegated to a few pages in dated science textbooks.
How our educational system has ignored the climate crisis for so long says more about its fixture in antiquity than even that row of “classics,” force-fed to students, in the English Department’s book room.
In our narrative of schooling, teaching about climate, especially outside of one’s so-called “content area,” is subversive for anyone but a science teacher.
Years ago, shortly upon returning from a pivotal climate summit in Paris, I received a call from the principal’s office.
“Apparently, you’ve been teaching about global warming in your classroom and we are getting complaints from parents.”
Despite the fact that Alaska is warming at twice the rate of the Lower 48, that Barack Obama visited the state to dramatize the issue, that I had recently returned from the Paris Climate Summit, the topic was still sacrilege in Anchorage’s school-industrial-complex.
Besides, Heaven forbid, I was an English teacher!
“Thanks for taking time to meet with this parent,” the administrator told me after our meeting, “but you need to stick with the curriculum.”
The message was clear: I had to be as careful as one might be with a political controversy.
This summer’s record-smashing heat and drought, abrupt to our collective senses, dissipated the cloud of ambivalence I had over whether to prioritize climate study in my classes.
I distributed a copy of an article from the local paper connecting this summer’s heat wave, drought, and fires to climate change. I treated the story as an object of interest and did not present my own perspective. I invited students to discuss. Current events has little place in our academic plans (even social studies does not make room in its crowded curricula), but I wanted nonfiction texts that are both relevant and engaging. Let’s talk about what’s out the window.
The mood in the room was somber, and I feared unease about these seniors’ future would result in apathy. So I brought up Greta Thunberg, the 16-year-old Swedish activist who sat with a sign outside the Swedish parliament, becoming a global celebrity for action on the climate crisis. “What stands in the way of more people taking this action?” I asked the class.
Of four discussions we held in the first two weeks of school, more in the class directed their reflection toward this topic. They wanted more information. They wanted to know what they can do.
Throughout the remainder of the school year, I’ll mix topical ecological issues with a climate unit. I will teleconference with Alaska Natives, with a friend who lives in the disappearing Solomon Islands, with a past foreign exchange student from Tunisia, and, importantly, bring in students their own age who are organizing events. I call the unit “My Climate Story.” It’s a unit for teaching climate chaos I’ve worked on, with the help of colleagues across the globe, since the Paris summit.
I hope to inspire action, because regardless of our penchant to closet the environment and to hold an antiquated education system sacrosanct, something has got to change.
Soren Wuerth is a writer, activist and secondary language arts teacher working in Anchorage, Alaska.
This story is part of Covering Climate Now, a global collaboration of more than 250 news outlets to strengthen coverage of the climate story.
A while back, I was invited to lead a workshop on teaching the climate crisis at a teacher education program at a Portland-area college. I chose an activity I wrote called “The Mystery of the Three Scary Numbers” — included in the Rethinking Schools book, A People’s Curriculum for the Earth and at the Zinn Education Project’s Teach Climate Justice site. It’s based on a famous Bill McKibben article in Rolling Stone, “Global Warming’s Terrifying New Math.” The terrifying math that McKibben lays out is simple: In order to keep the climate from warming more than two degrees Celsius over pre-industrial temperatures, the world’s “carbon budget” is 565 gigatons — carbon of all sources that, collectively, the world can emit and have a reasonable hope of staying under two degrees. The terrifying number is how much carbon is stored in the known reserves of fossil fuel companies and countries that act like fossil fuel companies, like Saudi Arabia: 2,795 gigatons — five times the amount of the world’s carbon budget. Yes, I know, there are lots of problems with this formulation. For example, two degrees is a horribly inadequate target, one that will condemn much of the world to climate catastrophe. And the 2,795 number grows every day, as profit-driven fossil fuel companies, and the governments they purchase, drill and dig and scrape the Earth for still more fossil fuels. But the core lesson remains: We cannot burn a substantial portion of known fossil fuel reserves and hope to survive.
In the activity, students receive short clues on strips of paper about different aspects of the three scary numbers — 565 gigatons, 2,795 gigatons, 2 degrees Celsius — and circulate in the classroom, finding people with other clues that connect with theirs. Following the activity, students write on the three numbers, what makes them scary, and the implications: What should we do?
The future teachers had lots of thoughts on this, but one was especially passionate: “We have to convince the fossil fuel companies to keep all these fossil fuels in the ground — it’s crazy to continue to explore for more and more when we already have too much.”
This was a well-meaning comment. But think about this for a moment. The climate crisis puts at risk the future of life on Earth. It is lunacy that humanity and nature should be held hostage by the fossil fuel industry, that we should have to — or even could — plead with them to exercise restraint. These corporations cannot be reasoned with; they cannot be talked into committing suicide as fossil fuel producers. An article in the Aug. 9, 2019 edition of the New York Times (“With Saudi Aramco Set to Disclose Earnings, Could an I.P.O. Be Next?”) underscored what’s at stake for these companies. Aramco, the world’s largest oil producer, had 2018 profits of $111 billion, making it by far the most profitable corporation in the world. Said another way: The more this industry ignores the climate crisis, the richer it gets.
And yet, the threat the fossil fuel industry poses to the future of life on Earth makes almost no appearance in mainstream curriculum. Here in Oregon, where I taught social studies for almost 30 years, the state K–12 social studies standards, approved in May of 2018, include not a single mention of “fossil fuels,” “oil,” “coal,” or “gas” in the standards’ 27 pages.
The Next Generation Science Standards acknowledge that “Human activities, such as the release of greenhouse gases from burning fossil fuels, are major factors in the current rise in Earth’s mean surface temperature (global warming).” But the standards fail to acknowledge the fundamental contradiction between continued fossil fuel use and planetary survival. Instead, a middle school NGSS standard offers this meek (and convoluted) suggestion: “Reducing the level of climate change and reducing human vulnerability to whatever climate changes do occur depend on the understanding of climate science, engineering capabilities, and other kinds of knowledge, such as understanding human behavior and on applying that knowledge wisely in decisions and activities.”
No doubt, teachers can use this standard to teach critically, but this obfuscating language fails to acknowledge the obvious: We are in a climate emergency; our house is burning down and it’s urgent that we stop those people who are pouring fuel on the fire.
We need a curricular conversation about how we can teach about fossil fuels from the earliest grades through teacher education, and in multiple disciplines. At the Zinn Education Project, we feature simulations and role plays that can help students recognize how the fossil fuel industry jeopardizes life everywhere:
And to underscore the relentless greed of the fossil fuel industry next door in North Dakota, “Standing with Standing Rock: A Role Play on the Dakota Access Pipeline” asks students to look at the winners and losers of this pipeline, and especially to examine the impact on the Indigenous peoples of the area, whose supply of clean water this project jeopardizes.
“Coal, Chocolate Chip Cookies, and Mountaintop Removal” begins with a clever but problematic game developed by the American Coal Foundation, which turns mountaintop removal coal mining into a playful hunt for buried chocolate chips in cookies. Played critically, the game can expose the brutality of mountaintop removal mining, how the market system externalizes social and environmental costs, and the propaganda spread by the fossil fuel industry.
These lessons tell the truth about the deadly impact of fossil fuels, so as to engage students in the vital work of exploring alternatives — through organizing and activism. And teaching against fossil fuels is not just for older students. In a forthcoming Rethinking Schools article, Portland, Oregon, 2nd-grade teacher Rachel Hanes describes a Storyline project she taught with her students, in which citizens in their imaginary community of Happy Town receive a letter from the president of the Carson Environmental Oil Co., proposing a pipeline that will come through a part of their town and “bring many new high paying jobs to your area.” Student-citizens joined a town hall meeting to discuss the proposal, wrote persuasive letters to the mayor, and defeated the proposal in a community-wide vote. Rachel followed up by introducing her students to other young activists at Standing Rock and in the Our Children’s Trust lawsuit.
“Climate justice” education means a lot of things. But one key aspect is that we involve students in probing the social and economic roots of this crisis. The climate crisis is inexplicable without looking at the intersection of fossil fuels and the capitalist system. Students everywhere need to understand the role that the fossil fuel industry plays in jeopardizing their futures — and learn how to resist. Today, these should be basic skills.
Tens of thousands of teachers went out on strike last Thursday. Not in West Virginia or Los Angeles — but in Colombia’s five largest cities.
And they are fighting for their lives. Literally.
The paramilitary group The Black Eagles issued a statement on September 3 saying “the time has arrived to wipe out from this country the so-called ‘union and social leaders’ all of whom are guerrilla employees.”
They sent emails to the leaders of the Colombian Federation of Education Workers (FECODE) naming the people they were going to kill, including the president, vice president, former president, their attorney, and other leaders.
As a result, the union called off a “Caravan in Defense of Life,” that it had planned to tour the Cauca Valley, a region in southwest Colombia with a majority population of Indigenous and Afrocolombians. FECODE instead called for a 24-hour general strike of teachers on September 12.
No threat can silence us. The school is territory of peace. Photo: FECODE
A key demand of the strike was an end to the killings and threats against teachers and other social activist leaders. In a FECODE press release on September 4 announcing the strike, the top demand listed was that the Colombian President Ivan Duque take immediate measures to defend “the lives and physical integrity of teachers, social and union leaders and a rejection of all forms of violence in the country wherever they come from.” The union also called on the government to implement the peace accord signed three years ago with the FARC, the main guerrilla group.
Participant in the march in Medellin holds the photo of Felipe Vélez, a teacher who was assassinated in 1987. Photo: Fecode
FECODE’s President Nelson Alarcon told the Colombian newspaper El Tiempo, “We’ve had more than 10 of our colleagues murdered this year. More than 680 teachers were threatened in this period.”
According to data from the National Union School in Medellin, Colombia, more than 1,000 teacher union leaders were assassinated from 1977 to 2014. That would be equivalent to 7,000 teacher union leaders murdered in the United States.
Other key strike demands were implementation of accords agreed upon after previous strikes that include meals for children, improved health care for teachers, better school facilities, and the respect and recognition that schools are “territories of peace.”
Right-wing paramilitary groups and the Colombian military have a long history of targeting union and human rights leaders, community organizers, and environmental activists.
The Black Eagles are an illegal paramilitary group that grew out of an earlier right-wing group, now banned, that had received money from the United States and multinational corporations. The Black Eagles are involved in land theft, illegal mining, and illegal logging, much of which is on Indigenous lands or areas in which many Afrocolombians live. International human rights groups estimate that more than 700 activists have been murdered since the signing of the peace accord in 2016.
The response to the union’s call for a strike was overwhelming. On September 12 there was a massive turn out of teachers, parents, and students in support of the strike in Colombia’s major cities of Bogotá, Bucaramanga, Cali, Medellin y Barranquilla, and in dozens of smaller communities.
As we continue to focus on the extraordinary teacher militancy throughout the United States, let’s remember that the movement for educational justice is global. We need to support — and learn from — the important teacher struggles in Colombia and around the world.
Bob Peterson is a founding editor of Rethinking Schools, former 5th-grade teacher, and a past president of the Milwaukee Teachers’ Education Association. He is currently the city-wide representative on the Milwaukee Board of School Directors. To contact Bob Peterson, email email@example.com.
More information can be found at FECODE and via the hashtags #YoApoyoAFecode (ISupportFecode) and #PorMisMaestros (#ForMyTeachers).