Windsor: Punching the Weld RE-4 gift horse in the mouth

white and black table lamp on brown wooden table
Photo by marco fileccia on Unsplash

Last August while emailing my daughter’s second-grade teacher to thank her for all her efforts, I told her that we’ll treat every day of in-person learning as a gift, being grateful for as many as we can get. As the Weld RE-4 school district was devising its strategy for in-person learning last summer, no one had any idea just how long it would last. I was optimistically hoping it’d last long enough for my daughter to at least develop a rapport with her teacher so that she would at least feel a connection before her class inevitably went to remote-schooling.

Forty weeks later, I am elated that our children were blessed with in-person learning throughout the entire school year. This achievement would not have been possible without the exhaustive efforts, ingenuity, and sacrifice by the Weld RE-4 district, with virtually no help from any parents or community volunteers. This milestone should be celebrated and everyone – from the superintendent to the principals and administrators, to the teachers, to the support staff – is owed a debt of gratitude from our community, one that can never be repaid. Despite being pandemic heroes, they’ll likely never receive a holiday, a jet fly-over, or a parade.

However, with only four days left in the school year, their accomplishments are being tarnished by an outrage mob that demands an immediate policy change to the mask mandates at school. Educators in the final sprint of an agonizing year are now being accosted by parents complaining that a policy in place for over 97% of the school year shouldn’t be allowed to last one day more.

It doesn’t seem that many realize or appreciate that this pandemic altered nearly every facet of the daily operations at the school, forcing educators to re-imagine everything: how students get to school, how they use supplies, how they play at recess, even how they eat lunch. While the mask policy is a very visible one for parents, dozens of other policies are in place to mitigate risks associated with a contagious airborne virus. Immediately changing this single policy doesn’t take into account the downstream impacts this would have on others and the difficulty of immediate policy change amidst the end of the school year.

I get having this debate if it were day 99 of a 170-day school calendar, but we’re at day 167, being told that something in place for the previous 166 days is suddenly no longer acceptable. Many direct their ire largely at teachers and principals that are powerless in this situation. They have no choice but to take the abuse, adding to the most excruciating year in their careers. I realize that many are claiming to be largely focused on the fall, but to raise the issue at this exact moment callously belittles this year’s achievements, ensuring our educators end their hardest school year on a sour note. This will definitely pollute the job pool for current and prospective educators that are discerning their service in our community.

The educators of Weld RE-4 have given us 170 in-person schooling gifts, each day accomplished through tireless work, endless sacrifice, extracting a toll that will never be fully appreciated. Instead of an attitude of petulant entitlement, complaining about the wrapping of the last four gifts, how about we give them our gratitude and support for the educational mountains they moved?

Libraries: Palaces for the People

I realize that some may roll their eyes when I pontificate about the importance of libraries and its transforming role in our society, but I was pleasantly surprised and pleased to discover the “Palaces for the People” episode in the 99% Invisible podcast.

Check out the “Palaces for the People” episode of 99% Invisible

Sociologist Eric Klinenberg discusses the diminishing amount of truly public spaces, available for all, and the need for communities to invest in their Social Infrastructure the same way we’d invest in other types of infrastructure. He goes on to illustrate the way libraries are changing their role and need such changes in their architecture to accommodate the shift.

I would challenge those that are skeptical about the importance or relevancy of libraries to listen to this episode and take it into consideration when talking about the need for communities to invest in Palaces for the People.


Reflections on attending the DQSH Protest

Reflections on attending the DQSH Protest

Last Saturday I attended the Clearview Library Drag Queen Story Hour as a counter-protester. This was my first time ever making a political sign and exercising my First Amendment rights in this way, and was quite an interesting experience.

The story hour itself was a registration-required event, and had filled up in the prior week. Apparently there was a 200 person waiting list (the largest room in the library had a max occupancy of 80). Outside were about 100 people in the designated “free speech zone” – an area 30 feet from the entrance to permit library patrons and story hour participants to arrive. Of the 100, it was about a 1/3 to 2/3 split between protesters against the event and supporters/counter-protesters.

Protesters seemed to fall into two large camps: people protesting on religious/moral grounds, with signs citing biblical verses and various religious and moral messages about corrupting children, as well as conservatives there that were “fighting the Left”. It was questionable as to whether some of the protesters were part of the Alt-Right, but some of the protesters seemed to be part of some larger conservative-based movement.

As for the supporters, there were also 2 segments: those drawing attention to the LGBTQ issues, counter-protesting the intolerance, as well as those generally supporting the library, freedom of speech, and general opposition to the protesters. I would count myself among the latter group, but my nuanced position seemed to confuse people on both sides at some point.

When I got there at 9:45, it wasn’t clear where people were standing, so I just stood on the corner and held up my signs. A lot of people who would later stand with the “against” protesters told me they liked my signs and were conversing with me. Apparently, some event supporters yelled obscenities at me as well, but I didn’t hear them. Then when the lines became apparent and I saw someone I knew, I went and stood next to her, at which point I had a bunch of supporters come up and apologize to me. A lot of the protesters suddenly had problems with my signs. As the morning progressed, a few supporters from the back came up to me and said they liked my signs.

The protests were mostly civil, both sides chanting back and forth. There were a few minor confrontations, but the police did an excellent job making their presence known without interfering or infringing the free speech rights of everyone. Truth be told, I think both sides had some chants and actions that were bad looks. Protests are a blunt instrument, and when you remove nuance, you give way to stereotypes to take hold. You could see the protesters demonize the supporters as religious heretics that were enabling child endangerment, while the supporters generalized the protesters as religious nuts and Alt-Right hate groups.

I didn’t take part in any of the chants and mainly stood silently unless someone directly yelled at me about my sign, at which point I would engage back with them. One of the protesters that engaged with me finally said he couldn’t disagree with my points, so that was kinda cool. At the end of the event when the supporters disbanded, I walked back to my car past the police chief who shook my hand, then by a few of the “Don’t tread on me” protesters. I told them to have a good day and they said: “you too”.

In the end, I think this was a worthwhile event for our community. Diverse programming was offered at the library unimpeded, and there was a lively conversation about culture, morals, and freedom outside of the library. I realize that people may feel uncomfortable about social disruption, but protests (and counter protests) and demonstration are integral parts of our American heritage. Just because conversations don’t happen in the public square doesn’t mean that they’re not taking place, these events just enable communities to bring these views into the light for all to see.