To Plant a Garden Is To Believe in Tomorrow - A Lawn Sign I'm Stealing as a Motto for the Upcoming Year, Especially After the Busiest Spring Break I've Ever Had

I feel like a wilted plant that needs new soil, more water, and better sunlight, but I did what I could this past week to give myself some semblance of a break. I mean, I did go to a concert, had an emergency tooth removal, watched NCAA basketball (albeit it while grading and writing), and did walk 6 miles a day with Karal (that was a priority, because I could)

Down by Long Beach in Stratford, I saw a sign in a lawn that caught my attention, especially since it was a graying, decaying spot and I thought of the humor that one would have a garden sign there. But it was spot on. Ironically, I took photos of crocuses blooming in my yard to write about this morning, but none of the photos showed up in my library, so I'm going with the mantra about planting - one I've sent to a few of my favorite people who are in need of a similar mindset. We're ready to plant a better world, and to move forward with what we know works best.

I was talking with K-12 teachers this past week, telling them that the same administrative, top-down mind-control has trickled into higher education. Rather than respect the expertise of faculty, more and more administrators are hired to come in and control the expertise of faculty. And rather than invest in more faculty expertise, they are hiring more and more adjuncts and positions with alternative titles so that faculty doesn't get too much power.

Imagine not wanting your educators to be the professionals they've studied to become. Oh, wait. K-12 educators have been experiencing this for 30+ years. Devalue the work that exists on the ground and the collective wisdom, and hire new people to come in and tell you how it should be done better, even though all those who work know it is a terrible idea. 

But the garden metaphor, the crocuses, and now the hornier-than-hell birds singing at 4 a.m. are reminding me that rebirth is coming as it always does. Heck, even the peepers are out there bellowing their music. I guess the natural world should be thankful that they don't have others overseeing their chirps, soil movements, and blooms, because that would likely lead to a crop failure.

I got my 40 miles in this week and Karal, who is sleeping in this morning, I guess, is thankful for the longer than usual walks. But I'm looking for leadership and spaces that allow gardens to bloom, educators to be experts, and young people to excel without all the bureaucracy. 

Learning is natural. I wish we could simply return to what is good for everyone.