Back in Tacoma for the Holidays

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch

You really are a heel,

You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch.

In my pre-teaching life, I spent six years working at UPS. The holidays were my most chaotic and least restful time of year. It shaped how I view the season today. Combined with my general anti-consumerist bent* (and putting my faith to the side), I'm pretty meh on the festive season. But we live at the mercy of those we love. After what my family has been through the last two years, coming home and celebrating with family was a must. So after fourteen hours sitting in a right-triangle of crying babies, Hope and I touched back down in Cascadia on Monday.

The fifty-five degree temperature change tested the limits of my layering. I departed our apartment in Abu Dhabi in a t-shirt, adding a hoodie at DXB. I donned another layer upon landing, and added a fourth as I exited Sea-Tac into the blowing snow. It’s currently Timberland boots and goose down cold here. But we made it.

Each time we return to Tacoma feels a bit odd. This is now our fourth year overseas and we've signed contracts for year five. So, the earliest we would return, barring an unforeseen emergency, would be summer of 2024. But even that seemingly distant date is unlikely. The trends in public education that caused us to decide to pursue work abroad have accelerated, not abated.  I struggle to picture myself sliding back into my old role. I know there's a future for us in Tacoma but that time isn't now, not yet. 

With all that swirling in my head, on Thursday night I got up in front of an audience of civics nerds and  hosted Adult Civics Happy Hour at the Press Room. ACHH is a series of live events that I began hosting in various forums in Tacoma five years ago. It’s a live community dialogue featuring policymakers, journalists and activists. Thursday's program, the first since the start of the pando, included two panels: one on the local sheriff and one on the upcoming legislative session.

The legislative panel, L to R: yer boi, Rep Bateman, Sen Trudeau, Rep-elect Mena

The situation with the sheriff is telling for where things are right now. The window for meaningful police accountability laws that opened with the mass protests of 2020 has largely closed, with little gained to show for it. Pierce County is a microcosm of the country. Tacoma has four murdering police on a multi-year administrative vacation for a killing they committed in March 2020.  The county has a sheriff that is drunk on power (among other things); he was recently acquitted in a trial where he was charged with making false reports. During the trial multiple witnesses, including fellow officers, indicated he had lied, repeatedly. But he was acquitted by a jury (If you’re not local and want to learn more about this case, I have covered it on my podcast here, here, and here.)

In the second panel, three state legislators talked about the upcoming legislative session. We talked about their policy priorities, what was likely to pass and I asked about my priority issues  as well. The audio from both panels will be on future episodes of Nerd Farmer. 

I acknowledge that it is odd (but also very me) to fly 7,500 miles across the globe to visit family and also toss in hosting a sold out political forum. But we did it—we packed out the venue on a brick cold night. It felt good, like putting on that old comfortable sweater you haven’t worn in ages. 

A Shanghai Travelogue: On the Merits of Dumplings, Debate, and Democracy

I have history with Zhōngguó, the Middle Kingdom, enough so that when word got out last winter we were departing the states, many people assumed we were China-bound. In 2018, we hosted two Chinese exchange students: Bob and Wong. I got a dose of being a dad for a moment; it cemented for me that I’m not cut out for parenthood. In the summers of 2014 and 2015, on the invitation from a visiting professor, we went to Chengdu in Sichuan Province to teach Chinese students in a summer program. I taught a blend of US history, American college culture and knowledge, and some theater. Each time before we began our teaching, we flew into a different city and traveled overland for three weeks. We spent time in Beijing, Xi’an, Hong Kong, and Macau. 

After our second trip to China in 2015, my school hosted a visit from President Xi and I hosted him for a lecture in my Government class. He spoke to my students via a translator -- it was surreal. If you think an urban high school is a stressful place, toss a phalanx of armed Chinese and US Secret Service into the mix. I’ve opined on that experience previously, but I continue to be struck by a line in his talk: “If you want to time travel, go to China. Go to Xi’an and see the Terracotta Warriors to understand the world 1000 years ago. If you want to go 500 years in the past, go to Beijing and see the Dragon Throne and the Forbidden City. But if you want to see the future, go to Shanghai.” 

Last week I took up his offer and made my third trip to China. As chaperones, I and a colleague accompanied a travel team of thirteen students from our school’s Model United Nations Program to Concordia International School for their Model UN conference, heretofore, CISSMUN. For the unfamiliar, Model UN is the international school equivalent of US high school debate. Over three days students… rather delegates... researched and wrote resolutions on various topics that they presented to committees to be debated, amended, and voted up or down. At this conference, there were committees on human rights (HRC), world criminal justice (ICJ), global health (WHO), economic and social matters (ECOSOC), and disarmament. Students took on roles representing various states. The conference had over 1000 delegates, from over 75 schools all over African, Asia, and Oceania. It’s a fascinating environment, an ocean of pant-suits and blazers. It felt like the NFL combine for aspiring lawyers, diplomats, and NGO workers.

CISSMUN was hosted by Concordia, a Christian K-12 international school, in an expat enclave in the city. We took an overnight flight from Abu Dhabi and landed in Shanghai at ten am. Y’all, Downtown Shanghai is Blade Runner. At CISSMUN, students did homestays with local families (awesome), so I was relieved of the usual hotel bed checks in the evening (more awesome). In my off-time, I checked all the usual Nate boxes: small talk about politics, knife-cut noodles, beef noodle soup, Shanghai dumplings (xiaolongbao), and several wanders through unfamiliar neighborhoods while listening to podcasts.

I was struck by the nature of my students’ task and how they rose to the occasion; Model UN is an amazing way for students to learn about the world. Writing resolutions requires regional specific knowledge, an understanding of recent history and international law, and the ability to present your findings in an organized, compelling manner. I had several students in my delegation who are veterans of MUN, including several who chaired sessions and were main submitters of resolutions. I think it is such a smart way of preparing students for life in an increasingly complicated world. 

I especially appreciate the skill-set they are developing when contrasted to the HS debate experience. No shade or smoke to debate coaches out there, but Ted Cruz and Tucker Carlson are champion debaters. In a debate, students are often competing, rather than cooperating and sophistry is rewarded because a person willing to lie or make stuff up has an innate advantage over a person making evidence-based arguments. In Model UN, students all have a laptop in front of them. They fact-check each other in real-time and will pounce on non-sense and resolutions lacking evidence. On day two I watched a student from Hong Kong, with an Australian accent, representing Argentina, demand specificity on a human trafficking resolution, while sipping a juice box -- like a boss.

China’s human rights record is notably complicated (and the fact my student from Pakistan was unable to obtain a visa was a frustration to me). But on this trip, I heard Chinese students talk about the importance of tolerance, defend religious freedom, and call for protection of human rights. They overtly addressed their country’s domestic politics. Like my American students and my students in the Emirates, they want to build a more just and equitable future for their states. I can mess with that.

A Teacher Travelogue: On What Travel Reminds Me

As teachers we never really stop teaching and learning. Sometimes the venue changes, but we are constantly thinking about how we can apply what we’re seeing and experiencing to our practice. This is true, especially during the summer.

Travel has become an essential part of my life and my travel contributes to my ever evolving worldview. In early spring 2007, halfway through my first year of teaching, my grad school roommate Pete (now a fourth grade teacher in Yakima, WA) and I hatched a plan to go abroad. As first-year teachers, our sole criteria for deciding our destination was cheap airfare. We found a sub-$700 flight to Bogota, on a now defunct travel site. At age 27, I secured my first passport and took my first (non-military) trip abroad. We spent four weeks traveling through Bogota, Santa Marta, Cartagena and the Caribbean Coast. I used my college Spanish for the first time. I sailed for the first time. I hitchhiked for the first time. I went SCUBA diving for the first time. I bathed in volcanic mud. I ate a fish so fresh out of the water, the fisherman was still unloading the rest of his haul when I began eating it.  

I was hooked.

For the last ten years, at the end of the school year, I have packed the same red & black backpack and headed abroad. My travel partner has changed, but the ritual remains the same. This summer I spent four weeks with my wife Hope, an English teacher, traveling through Western Europe: Germany, France, Spain and Portugal. Travel is essential to me. We have to forgo some “wants” during the year to afford it, but it’s worth it. My wife jokes about "Travel Nate," an alternate version of me, who is less harried, less tense, and more at ease. When I travel I get headspace to reflect on my practice. I get time to read all the books I wanted to read during the school year. I feel like a yoke of grading and obligation is removed from my neck. I feel peace: something that is far too rare for people in the US, especially people of color, people in poverty and even NFL quarterbacks.

A mural along the Rhine in Mainz, Germany

Early in our trip, after I posted a photo online, a colleague and mentor in the profession, asked “what does it feel like to be black in Germany?”

I responded: I always feel “more free” when we travel… But knowing what's happening back home, right now even more so… It's hard to put into words... I feel black + carefree and I haven't felt that way in a long, long time.

When I travel, my brain works differently. I see things here differently. My understanding of America is sharpened by even a brief absence from it. I believe that if you want to be truly awake, you have to leave home. I think most importantly, travel provides me with distance to consider my life back home, what I prioritize, my habits, my consumption and my aspirations. Travel reminds me that there are better, smarter ways.

Travel reminds that US media coverage is problematic and I need to seek and encourage my students to pursue alternative sources. I spent this summer watching France 24 (their English language network), Deutsche Welle (Germany) and CNN International. I was struck by the expansive and nuanced nature of CNN International’s coverage of events in the US and abroad. Over the last year, in the US, CNN has “distinguished” itself with problematic coverage, commentary and HR choices. But this summer reminded me that CNN hasn’t forgotten how to “do news.” They choose to fill their US coverage with the likes of Wolf Blitzer, former Trump aide Corey Lewandowski, and (jive) Don Lemon. CNN gives their international audiences investigative reporting, searing documentaries and in-depth analysis of events with historical context. We get clownish coverage: gigantic countdown clocks to trivial events, talking heads who are ideologues rather than experts and massive chyrons that fill ⅓ of the screen, but don’t actually tell you anything. We get louder, inferior, less informative coverage, because that’s what sells.

The view of Old Town in Porto, Portugal from the Cathedral

Travel reminds me of the proper role of law enforcement in a civil society. Police killings are a uniquely American problem—something I remind my students of while discussing civil liberties in government class. While we were abroad, at least 95 people were killed by US law enforcement. Victims 630 through 725 of this year. Travel reminds me that issues of race, justice and policing should be at the forefront of many of our classes this year.

Just before I left for Europe, Minneapolis school cafeteria worker Philando Castile and Alton Sterling were killed by police. Both were killed at the end of what should have been routine encounters with law enforcement. These encounters were routine alright—part of a routine that allows the normalized killing of unarmed Americans by people otherwise sworn to protect and serve them. This fall students will show up to school in Minneapolis wondering “where Mr. Castile went? This September, Castile and Sterling’s children will be in our schools. These children—fatherless because of the actions of other agents of the state—will be in our classrooms. What will we say to them? How will we comfort them?

Travel reminds me there is a better way. Traffic stops should not end in murder. People should not be incarcerated for profit. Other industrialized nations don’t fund local government programs through revenue from red light cameras, placed largely in their poorest neighborhoods. They do not allow civil asset forfeiture [the practice of police seizing private property (or funds) they allege have been used in criminal activity for department use and budgets]. These are our problems alone.

Travel reminds me I have nothing to fear from “the Other.” We arrived in Europe four days after the attack in Nice. We expected to find anxiety and fear. We found none. Despite a very real threat from international terrorism, they do not live in constant fear. I want my students to inherit a world where they don’t have to be afraid.

Our view atop the Arc de Triomphe

Travel reminds me of the importance of our work. As an educator I get to teach my students a series of lessons, academic or otherwise about government, geography, character and life. As we prepare to return to school, my travel has reminded me that we have an obligation to prepare our students to be active participants in civil society. We must model for them how to thoughtfully question authority. We must implore them to question the underlying and unstated premises of arguments they’re presented with. We must push them to listen to understand, rather than listening to refute. We must teach them to believe more in discourse and less in debate. We must teach them to love to read and to read to grow.

This is the work of teaching. We get to help set students on their paths. We get to leave our cognitive fingerprints and habits of inquiry on the next generation. We get to plant seeds. Helping kids become curious about the world isn’t on my evaluation, but it's probably the most important thing I do. This work can’t be tested or assessed by the SBAC—it’s too important for that. It doesn’t fit neatly into an ELA standard, but it’s why we do what we do.

Travel reminds me of that.