Peter Greene imparts some profundity in this post.

Are you afraid that your child is “falling behind”? Behind what? Who drew the line? Who made the rules?

This article contains wisdom. What’s teal and what’s a social construct? Which social constructs matter? Why?

It reminds me of the incredulous looks I get when I explain that standardized testing is a social construct, that it has errors in the questions, errors in the answers, even errors in the scoring. Some people think that children’s loves and fortunes should be determined by this social construct. Why?

I just finished reading Mary Trump’s family tell-all, Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man. 

I found it fascinating and horrifying. Mary is the daughter of Fred Trump, Jr., the heir apparent to the family business. The family consisted of paterfamilias Fred Sr. and his wife Mary. Fred Jr., Elizabeth, Maryanne, Donald and Robert.

The Trump family was dysfunctional and cruel. Fred Sr. was never satisfied. He pinched pennies, long after he was a multimillionaire.

When Mary’s father Fred Jr. tried to break free of the family business, he became a TWA pilot. He was the only family member to make a way for himself on his own. But his father called him a “glorified bus driver” and harangued him until he started drinking and lost his job, then returned to the family business. Maryanne struck out on her own and became a lawyer; she married a promising many who couldn’t earn a living. Fred Sr. gave him a job as a parking lot attendant.

When Mary’s parents divorced, the divorce agreement awarded her mother $600 a month in alimony and child support. The family lived frugally, as did everyone but the parents and Donald.

Donald was sent away to military school because he was a disobedient, rude youth. When he finished school, he went to Fordham, a Catholic university in Manhattan. He didn’t think Fordham was good enough for his ambitions, so he decided to transfer to the University of Pennsylvania. Mary says that his sister Maryanne did his homework for him, and Donald hired a smart friend to take the SATs for him. When he brags about being “first in his class” at Penn, that’s hot air. He was never much of a student.

Mary describes a family dynamic in which her grandfather belittled everyone but Donald. Donald was the chosen child, the one with the hubris and arrogance that his father admired.

She says that Donald was a master of self-promotion. Whatever he did relied on the wealth and political connections of his father until he was able to cultivate his own connections. As far as she could tell, Donald failed at everything he did other than creating an image of himself as a successful businessman, which he never was. She recounts the multiple bankruptcies that never seemed to slow down his image-making.

Mary describes how Donald tried to put a piece of paper in front of his father that would have given Donald complete control of his father’s estate, putting all of his siblings at his whim. When they got wind of it, they stopped him. But when the father died, Mary discovered that the siblings had gotten the will rewritten to exclude her and her brother. Her brother had a severely disabled child who needed expensive medical care, and the family withdrew his health insurance as a club to force the two children of Fred Jr. to sign away their inheritance.

At one point in the book, Mary describes how Donald invited her to help him ghostwrite his next book. A professional ghostwriter would have demanded a share of the royalties. He refused to pay her, and when she said she needed money to buy a computer, he told her to ask the publisher. She was never able to figure out what the book was supposed to be about, and eventually she gave up trying.

The book is rich with insight and story of the Trump dynasty, a family led and controlled by a tyrant. The tyrant had only one favorite–Donald–and Fred Sr. rewarded him for his braggadocio, his lying, his cheating, and his willingness to subvert every norm.

Read the book and you will gain a lot of new insight into who this man is. He has no morals, no scruples, no ethics, no principles, no character. Yes, he is capable of shooting someone in the middle of Fifth Avenue and talking his way out of it.

He believes in nothing other than the myth of himself that he invented. He is a “self-made” man only in the sense that he believes his own P.R. He was not self-made in business; his father footed the bills and found ways to transfer hundreds of millions of dollars to him and his siblings to evade taxes.

After reading this first-person account, I realized that my contempt for this man, which I thought had hit bottom, fell even lower.

 

 

This is an excellent message from the Bidens about reopening schools safely.

They say what most educators and parents say.

We want schools open but we want them open safely.

Job one: lower the infection rate in the community.

Job two: Make sure schools have the resources so that students and adults are safe.

Biden pledges to follow through on both.

Trump demands that schools open in a few weeks regardless of the pandemic, regardless of the inability to provide a safe building and smaller classes.

Vote for Biden.

Andy Hargreaves, a scholar of international renown, participated in a virtual seminar in South Korea about post-pandemic education.

His 20-minute presentation is brilliant, pithy, and compelling.

Look for it on this YouTube video. He starts at about 22:00 minutes and concludes at about the 43:00 minute mark.

He urges South Korea and the rest of the world not to “return” to austerity, competition, high-stakes testing, and education that is subservient to GDP, but to pursue a very different path.

To learn about that different and very alluring vision of the future, take 20 minutes of your time, watch and listen.

This is a terrific article that appeared in the New York Times by the regular city columnist Gina Bellafante. It is about how schools beat plagues in the early 20th century by opening outdoor classes. The Times is making articles about coronavirus available for free, so it may not be behind a pay wall. You should see it for the wonderful historical photographs. If the bureaucracy could think creatively in 1915, why not now?

Here is the text:

In the early years of the 20th century, tuberculosis ravaged American cities, taking a particular and often fatal toll on the poor and the young. In 1907, two Rhode Island doctors, Mary Packard and Ellen Stone, had an idea for mitigating transmission among children. Following education trends in Germany, they proposed the creation of an open-air schoolroom. Within a matter of months, the floor of an empty brick building in Providence was converted into a space with ceiling-height windows on every side, kept open at nearly all times.

The subsequent New England winter was especially unforgiving, but children stayed warm in wearable blankets known as “Eskimo sitting bags” and with heated soapstones placed at their feet. The experiment was a success by nearly every measure — none of the children got sick. Within two years there were 65 open-air schools around the country either set up along the lines of the Providence model or simply held outside. In New York, the private school Horace Mann conducted classes on the roof; another school in the city took shape on an abandoned ferry.

Distressingly, little of this sort of ingenuity has greeted the effort to reopen schools amid the current public-health crisis. The Trump administration has insisted that schools fully open this fall, with Education Secretary Betsy DeVos proposing no plan for how to do that safely.

In New York, the nation’s largest school system, students will attend live classes only a few days a week, a policy that has angered both exhausted parents, who feel that it is not nearly enough, and many teachers, who fear it as way too much.

At the same time, one of the few things we know about the coronavirus with any degree of certainty is that the risk of contracting it diminishes outside — a review of 7,000 cases in China recorded only one instance of fresh-air transmission. While this ought to have activated a war-room focus toward the goal of moving as much teaching as possible outdoors, nothing like that has happened.

“What I’m hearing instead is that people are looking at plastic shields going up around desks,’’ Sarah Milligan-Toffler, the executive director of an organization called the Children & Nature Network, told me. “That’s our creative solution?”

Bureaucracy, it hardly needs to be said, is not inherently creative. And despite its self-image as an engine of innovation, the education-reform movement backed by Wall Street tends to recoil at anything that reeks of bohemianism. No hedge-funder, obsessed with metrics, achievement gaps and free Apple products has ever sat down and asked himself, “Hey, I wonder how they do it in Norway?”

Outdoor learning, though, is not a wood nymph fantasy; the body of evidence suggesting the ways it benefits students, younger ones in particular, is ever growing.

A 2018 study conducted over an academic year looked at the emotional, cognitive and behavioral challenges facing 161 fifth graders. It found that those participating in an outdoor science class showed increased attention over those in a control group who continued to learn conventionally. At John M. Patterson, an elementary school in Philadelphia, suspensions went from 50 a year to zero after a playground was built in which students maintain a rain-garden and take gym and some science classes, the principal, Kenneth Jessup, told me.

Recently, an examination of three groups of students in Bangladesh found that those who studied math and science in a transformed schoolyard did better academically than those who were contained inside. Beyond that, hundreds of studies over the years have demonstrated a positive correlation between engagement with nature and academics; some researchers have found that outdoor learning can improve both standardized test scores and graduation rates.

It is hard to imagine students similarly motivated by learning about the Civil Rights movement in an empty WeWork. While some have talked about using now vacant office or retail space for school, that would involve expensive leasing and little opportunity for fresh air.

So what could outdoor education look like in New York City? It would not mean sending the system’s 1.1 million children to Central Park every day (though Central Park, which accommodated hospital tents during the height of the pandemic, could easily hold some number of classroom tents with many other parks doing so too, as Adrian Benepe, the city’s former parks commissioner recommended).

It is also possible that all kindergarten, first- and second-grade classes could be held outside, with the natural environment deployed as a resource for math and science education, as one public-school teacher proposed to me. Those grades account for nearly a quarter of all students in the system. Alternatively, schools could use as much accessible outdoor space as possible to reduce the number of students in a building at any given time, thus allowing for proper social distancing. Instead of rotating between live school and remote learning, children could rotate between indoor and outdoor work during the course of the day. As Ms. Milligan-Toffler, of the Children & Nature Network, has argued, reading, reflective writing and gym all lend themselves to being experienced outside.

While inequity has meant that schools in more affluent neighborhoods are situated closer to parks than those in poorer parts of the city, infrastructure for outdoor learning is already in place, even in many low-income neighborhoods. Between 2007 and 2013, in conjunction with the Trust for Public Land, the city converted more than 250 schoolyards to green space for student and community use. The New York City Housing Authority has 1,000 playgrounds that could be commandeered. And the Parks Department, as Mr. Benepe, who is now with the Trust pointed out, has 35 recreation centers, already outfitted with gyms and bathrooms that could accommodate a few thousand children.

As the city has done for restaurants, it could cordon off streets and sidewalks for schools to expand their footprint.

But as we head into late July, there is no indication that the de Blasio administration is pursuing any of this with a sense of urgency. In response to questions about plans for some movement outside, Jane Meyer, the mayor’s deputy press secretary replied by email to say: “We are looking at all spaces possible, including outdoors, to see if learning can occur there.”

Michael Mulgrew, the president of the local teachers’ union, who maintains there is still a good chance that school will not open in September, nonetheless seemed far more enthusiastic about that idea. When I caught up with him by phone he was reading air-exchange reports. Teacher safety is paramount to him, and he worried about windowless schools near heavily trafficked roads, which had been built to seal off pollution. “The best thing you can do is open a window,’’ he said. The idea of teaching in outdoor spaces with covering for protection from the rain is an extremely promising one in his mind.

Obviously, transitioning to this approach comes with challenges in terms of liability, curriculum flexibility and so on. But the reality of losing a generation of students to the deficiencies of Zoom seems much more troubling. On Thursday, Mr. de Blasio announced that the city was working on a plan to provide child care to 100,000 students in libraries, community centers and other locations on the days they are learning remotely, something that would seem less necessary if more attention were paid to learning outdoors.

Teachers, who are the ones in greatest jeopardy of getting sick when schools reopen, seem to be the most vocal proponents. “I do think it’s doable,’’ Liat Olenick, a schoolteacher in Brooklyn who has been advocating for outdoor learning during the pandemic, told me.

“Do I think it will be easy? No. But given that all our other choices are terrible it is worth considering.”

A group of New York City teachers argue in The New York Daily News that the best way to restart the schools, especially for young children, is to hold classes outdoors. They do not address the problems of rain and freezing weather.

Liat Olenick, Darcy Whittwmore, and Heather Costanza see many virtues in outdoor learning.

Holding classes indoors in a city with over one million students, they write, will create dangerous and unhealthy conditions. Why not grab this opportunity for creative solutions?

Move the younger children outdoors, they say, while keeping high school students online.

Outdoor learning is a tried and tested fit for early childhood. There are all-day outdoor kindergartens in wintery Maine and Vermont, in which children dress for the weather and learn outside nearly every day. Vaunted models of early childhood education like Reggio-Emilia emphasize outdoor exploration because ages 4-8 comprise the crucial stage in which multisensory, interactive learning is essential for children’s cognitive growth. Outdoor learning offers children authentic, stimulating experiences that foster skills like creative problem solving, independence, flexibility and resiliency as they form a deep connection to the natural world. Learning outdoors also offers possibilities for culturally responsive, place-based learning, giving students hands-on, meaningful opportunities to engage and connect with their communities.

In the context of COVID, outdoor learning becomes even more appealing. Elementary students are more likely to live near school, making finding a space that works for families without needing public transit more feasible.

And per current guidelines, the requirements of indoor learning — sitting six feet apart, no contact, no sharing materials, and staying in one enclosed space for hours on end — are not developmentally appropriate for young children.

If we move outdoors, kids will have room to be kids without fear of punishment or infecting someone they love. Given the ongoing criminalization of students of color in schools, we fear the consequences of imposing new, high stakes social-distancing rules on all, but particularly on our youngest students.

We have the space to make outdoor learning work. New York City is home to 28,000 acres of public parkland, more than 1,100 school and community gardens, plus schoolyards, rooftops, cemeteries, beaches, private outdoor space and even parking lots or closeable neighborhood streets which could be spruced up with benches and planters.

These investments in public space might even foster greater equity in our city; experiences in nature are essential for children’s mental health, but green space is often concentrated in wealthier, whiter neighborhoods.

Transforming our streets and playgrounds into possibility-rich outdoor classrooms could be a way to equalize access to nature at a time when many outdoor programs serving children of color have been shuttered.

Outdoor learning will not be perfect. It will require support from schools, parks, neighborhood institutions and families to plan for site-specific challenges. But compare that with our other two options: Fully remote learning, which means zero childcare for caregivers and especially fails our young students, or a blended, classroom model for 1.1 million students that is likely to put our most vulnerable communities in grave danger.

This is our clarion call. We hope it spurs intrepid leaders to consider outdoor learning as a viable option for all of our youngest students during COVID and beyond. Organizations around the country, including New York private schools, are already developing proposals to take learning outside. With a little imagination and support from our city, we could make it happen here — not just for the privileged few, but for all.

Olenick, Whittemore and Costanza are public elementary school teachers in Brooklyn.

John Lewis died of cancer at the age of 80. As a young man, he offered his services to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and worked alongside him in the critical and most dangerous moments of the civil rights movement. Only 23, he spoke at the historic March on Washington in 1963. He was elected to Congress in 1987, where he served until his last day.

He led a life of courage, principle, and honor.

John Lewis is an American hero, a man who advanced the cause of democracy, freedom, and equality. These are our core American ideals, and the only monuments that should be erected should recognize those who stood for them.

He tells his story in this video.

Josh Bell is a New York City public schools parent. He wrote this article for the New York Daily News. The article reminded me that New York City public school officials in the early 20th century conducted outdoor classes for students with tuberculosis.

He writes:

Last weekend, the city started closing down sections of dozens of busy streets for several blocks in all five boroughs so that restaurants could set up more tables outside. If the city can do this for dining, surely it can do the same for learning. Schoolyards and athletic fields, of which there are hundreds, could be repurposed as well.

It’s really not that complicated. Put up tents — the big ones used for weddings, with sides that roll down for bad weather — add desks, chairs and a whiteboard, and boom: you just made a classroom. The bonus is that air circulation would be much better than indoor classrooms, a major concern for teachers and parents alike.

For schools with already adjacent outdoor space, and there are many, a big part of the solution is already on their doorsteps. And just think of how much street space there is on one block with no parked cars: It’s thousands of square feet. The classrooms could be separated with simple dividers.

In parks and elsewhere, we had field hospitals when we thought we needed them to treat a coronavirus surge. Why not field schools?

Brilliant.

Outdoor classrooms would be a snap in regions with mild weather. As Josh Bell points out, they would work anywhere.

The healthiest place to be is in the open air.

Salvador Rizzo, fact checker for the Washington Post, marvels that Trump has surpassed 20,000 lies in his term in office, surely a record. Trump is definitely Number One!

20,000

“What we do have is we have perhaps the lowest, but among the lowest, but perhaps the lowest, mortality rate — death rate — anywhere in the world,” President Trump said July 9, 2020, the day he surpassed 20,000 false or misleading claims since taking the oath of office.

It was the 13th time the president spread this particular falsehood, and it is entry No. 20,036 in our ever-metastasizing database of Trump’s deceitful claims. Nearly 40 Americans had died of the novel coronavirus per 100,000 people, the second worst rate in the world, according to a tally from Johns Hopkins University.

When we started the Trump database project for the president’s first 100 days in office, we could not imagine he would exceed 20,000 false or misleading claims before the end of his term. Trump averaged fewer than five claims a day in his first 100 days, which would have added up to about 7,000 claims in four years.

But the snowball quickly became an avalanche, the false statements a routine. In the last 14 months, Trump averaged 23 claims a day for The Fact Checker’s database. No setting or subject is spared by Trump.

In Rose Garden remarks, at coronavirus briefings, in tweetstorms at odd hours, in press gaggles near a whirring chopper, the Trumpian stream of misinformation engulfs every topic nowadays, from his impeachment in Congress to his Democratic opponent in the presidential race, from the worldwide pandemic that crashed the economy to the protests across the country calling for racial justice and an end to police brutality.

As of July 9, the tally in our database stands at 20,055 claims in 1,267 days.

Everyone wants schools to open but Congress and the Trump administration don’t want to pay for it. That cost includes reduced class sizes for social distancing, additional teachers, cleaning services, nurses, ventilation improvements, personal protective equipment, and whatever is recommended by CDC.

In places where the disease is out of control, reopening will not be possible. First control the disease, then reopen schools. Trump could start the process by wearing a mask in public, whenever he is in public. His refusal to do so has spread the virus by encouraging his admirers to do as he does, which violates the strong advice of medical professionals.

Where reopening is possible, Congress must foot the bill because the stayes’s coffers have been depleted by the economic toll of the pandemic.

Thus far, Congress has been generous to high-income individuals and employers, but stingy with the nation’s schools, as David Dayen of “The American Prospect” explains here. To see the links and open them, go to his post here.

Dayen writes:

As we head into crunch time on coronavirus relief, the demands coming from the White House threaten to upset the entire deal. Donald Trump remains obsessed with a payroll tax cut, which nobody in Congress, really, wants. Any payroll tax cut with any real impact on people—a three-month holiday would run around $300 billion—would cut deeply into the other White House demand for a relief bill topping out at no more than $1 trillion.

The proper amount of spending for this bill is “whatever it takes.” If you don’t like the cost, maybe you shouldn’t have completely botched the policy response such that major regions of the country have to shut down again. The same people whining about expense are the ones who drove the country into despair. The cost of a continued runaway virus is much higher than the cost of emergency measures to ensure millions of people have adequate food and shelter during this crisis.

But if you really, really must constrain the response, and you really, really must have this payroll tax cut, then I have an idea: get rid of all the other long-term tax cuts mostly targeted toward the rich, many of them passed in the very last coronavirus relief bill.

They don’t get much discussion but there were a host of tax provisions in the CARES Act, passed in March. In fact there was a payroll tax holiday, but for the employer side, not the employee. Not only can employers delay payroll taxes to next year, they can eliminate them if they retain employees. The two measures are estimated at about $66 billion, and the savings falls on the business.

A bigger tax break has been termed the “Millionaire’s Giveaway” by Americans for Tax Fairness. This $135 billion tax break allows people with partnerships or other structures to carry forward losses from previous years and offset gains in their taxes in future years. It only affects people making half a million dollars in income from the partnership or more. The same type of deduction for businesses costs another $25 billion; the oil and gas industry in particular has been using that one, converting their losses in recent years into corporate welfare checks. There’s also an interest deduction available to larger corporations ($13 billion). Certain aviation taxes were suspended ($4 billion); see if that shows up in a lower ticket fare.

Add it up and that’s $243 billion in tax giveaways to rich people and corporations in the CARES Act. If the White House wants a payroll tax cut it can come out of that. Most of the benefits from those changes don’t hit until next year and the payment of 2020 taxes, and beyond. It makes sense to pull up spending (tax breaks are spending through the tax code) to when it’s needed now.

The Heroes Act, the House Democratic bill, actually accomplished a form of this, by cancelling the Millionaire’s Giveaway permanently, as it was due under the Trump tax cuts to come back in 2026 anyway. That brings in $246 billion overall, according to the Joint Committee on Taxation, enough for a decent-sized payroll tax holiday.

And as long as we’re talking about the Trump tax cuts, we could eliminate the measures most tilted to the rich and powerful—the corporate tax cut, the S-corporation pass through for rich people who set up partnerships, the deducations for dividends on foreign earnings, and the inheritance tax cuts—and take in about $3 trillion. If the next relief bill simply has to be capped at $1 trillion, then you could do $4 trillion in spending and add these measures in and hit that number.

Again, I think it’d be ridiculous to offset anything for emergency relief. But playing by the rules set up by the White House isn’t an obstacle, thanks to the trillions of dollars in offsets Trump created with his tax law. There is also a case to be made that rebalancing the inequality baked into the tax code is good public policy anyway, and if it can facilitate critical crisis spending under the stupid strictures of straitjacket budget politics, all the better.

Unfortunately, Chuck Schumer is trying to leverage the new bill to get a tax cut for well-off people, particularly in his own state, by removing the cap on the state and local tax deduction imposed in the Trump tax cuts. That was also in the Heroes Act (albeit just a two-year suspension). There’s no need whatsoever for this kind of long-term help for people who itemize when the unemployed and the poor are in desperate trouble right now. Wealthy people don’t need another champion to engage in special pleading for them.