The last couple of days there has been a firestorm on Twitter throughout my PLN (personal learning network). Over the last five or so years, many successful educators have transitioned out of the classroom and into a position of authorship/speaker/"leader". There is a significant amount of back-patting and marketing surrounding these people who have developed educational brands. When a group of these folks collided with the current climate of color blindness (racial and gender inequality, not the literal color blindness) many of my network began lashing out and taking sides. I have maintained radio silence.
On Twitter, no matter how hard one tries to be transparent, it is impossible to know the whole person. I read a thread that I felt was unnecessarily harsh towards a figure who, in my opinion, tries to be his best self. I have my thoughts about these people-brands, but I do not voice them. We never know the whole story, even if we think we do. A few years ago, I was severely burned by offering my observations publicly, which were in the real world, not on Twitter. I'm pretty smart. I only needed that lesson once to know that I can't really say what I think is the truth. Some people can and are praised for their courage to speak out. But for some reason, which I haven't yet deciphered, that privilege is reserved for a select few, and I am not in that group.
I look back often on that event and still have questions about it.
- I definitely fall somewhere on the Autism spectrum. Did this impact the situation? Did I misinterpret societal rules? Highly likely. But the way that it was handled did not help me learn what is and is not acceptable. It just made me angry.
- Was what happened to me someone else's knee-jerk reaction to the truth?
- There had been a change in leadership. The new administrator's 'rules' about how to handle a situation were not the same as the old administrator's. Yet I was the one unaware and was to blame.
Even now, as I write this, I am deleting my words repeatedly for fear of saying too much. I know that I live in a hierarchical society where my influence only goes so far. My personal history doesn't permit me the courage to not care what other people think. I commend Lindy West for abandoning Twitter. It is a platform that is increasingly becoming a place to vent rather than learn. I'm thinking about how to get back to a place where Twitter helps me learn and grow as a teacher. My time is too precious to worry about what is going to pop up in my feed that I don't want to see. This is indeed a challenge in the age of social media.
On Twitter, no matter how hard one tries to be transparent, it is impossible to know the whole person. I read a thread that I felt was unnecessarily harsh towards a figure who, in my opinion, tries to be his best self. I have my thoughts about these people-brands, but I do not voice them. We never know the whole story, even if we think we do. A few years ago, I was severely burned by offering my observations publicly, which were in the real world, not on Twitter. I'm pretty smart. I only needed that lesson once to know that I can't really say what I think is the truth. Some people can and are praised for their courage to speak out. But for some reason, which I haven't yet deciphered, that privilege is reserved for a select few, and I am not in that group.
I look back often on that event and still have questions about it.
- I definitely fall somewhere on the Autism spectrum. Did this impact the situation? Did I misinterpret societal rules? Highly likely. But the way that it was handled did not help me learn what is and is not acceptable. It just made me angry.
- Was what happened to me someone else's knee-jerk reaction to the truth?
- There had been a change in leadership. The new administrator's 'rules' about how to handle a situation were not the same as the old administrator's. Yet I was the one unaware and was to blame.
Even now, as I write this, I am deleting my words repeatedly for fear of saying too much. I know that I live in a hierarchical society where my influence only goes so far. My personal history doesn't permit me the courage to not care what other people think. I commend Lindy West for abandoning Twitter. It is a platform that is increasingly becoming a place to vent rather than learn. I'm thinking about how to get back to a place where Twitter helps me learn and grow as a teacher. My time is too precious to worry about what is going to pop up in my feed that I don't want to see. This is indeed a challenge in the age of social media.