Democracy-Hypocrisy

Dear Friends,
Tonight at eight o'clock, the number of people protesting teachers' fight against the government was almost twice as high as the number of people supporting teachers. When I e-mailed my family to encourage them to do what's best for them, I asked the empty space around me, 'How the ... did we get here?'
How did we get here - is the kind of question estranged couples ask each other; it's a question parents ask themselves when something goes horribly wrong with their child. I remember many Iranians asking this exact question when, more than thirty years ago, the Islamic Revolution overthrew the monarchy.

Do you ever ask yourself why we are so despised? Do you ever ask yourself who poisoned public's mind against us? I'm sure it didn't happen overnight, as neither do revolutions or delinquents. Did we pull too hard, or didn't we push hard enough? Did we care too little, or did we give too much? Where did we go wrong? Too many C's not enough A's, or vice versa? Whose feelings did we hurt in the summertime? Whom did we offend in the wintertime? Didn't we turn the wheels of economy hard enough by travelling high season? Or perhaps, we didn't take enough courses to further enrich the universities. Is't our pension plan that's making everyone envious? Perhaps people resent our hefty monthly deductions or high tax bracket. Surely we are not being punished for our good looks, reverent status or popularity! 

What a tall order, expecting students to listen to and respect their teachers! Whose example they are to follow? How cruel to insist a bunch of deprived, abused people promote freedom, justice and democracy in their classroom. What a mockery, insisting underdogs instil character values in their pupils! 

If Bill 115 and I end up living under the same roof, I will give my students permission to ridicule me every time I talk 'big' or teach anti-bullying lessons. 

Bill 115 wouldn't have been conceived in a society that respected its teachers. 

If teachers' life and job evoke such bitter indignation, it can only mean that our society is improvised and unhappy - accepted and filed!  
What have you accepted and filed today?

The Showdown

Dear Friends,
This morning, I realized what keeps me awake at night, tossing and turning, is not what I eat before going to bed, or at what time I turn off the lights. What disturbs my sleep, whether in the form of a dream, a cramp or a stubborn itch, is the first thought that pops into my head at the following twilight. 
In the olden days, the nature of the 'first thought' was variable, sometimes exciting, sometimes unsettling, sometimes as mundane as ' I have to pick up the dry cleaning, today.'
However, since Bill 115, the intruders are the same old, same old! Many believe I've become obsessed, repetitive, somewhat tedious. True, this is one news that will never get old for me, unless it disappears.

As the showdown between the government of Ontario and the Unions begins, all teachers might have to cut voluntary activities. However, it's not as simple as it sounds.
Strike is straightforward - you are either on it or not. Work to rule remains many shades of grey. So many scenarios, combinations, interpretations and what ifs! It reminds me of the time I was dating a 'difficult man'. I didn't have the heart to cut all ties, at least for a week or two to teach him a lesson, so in my pathetic attempt to play hard to get, I stipulated my own stipulations! 'I'll go out for drinks, not dinner. I'll pick up the phone on the fourth ring, not the first. I'll be busy on Saturday, but not on Friday. I won't cook, but will order in.'
As the clever man detected my weakness, he became even more uncompromising!
At the end, I lost both, the man and my self-respect. 

Timid, lukewarm efforts to make a point, will not bring it home. Maybe, neither does the passionate, persistent resoluteness, but to paraphrase Mark Twain, twenty years from now I'll be happier for having tried the latter - accepted and filed!
What have you accepted and filed, today?

Bill, Al, Dick or Harry

Dear Friends, 
According to Canadian Press, thanks to recession, the art of 'layaway' is back in style!
Well, according to Lili Press, the art of 'puttingaway' is not far behind! I have already decided that my sense of security and financial stability is more important than the Holiday Cheers!

Thanks to Bill 115, not only I have become frugal, AKA cheap, but also calculating and mean-spirited!
This Saturday, I thought I take advantage of a man who wants me back. Unlike other times he is in town, last night, I dressed with purpose; the toughest shapewear, black silk hosiery, the tightest skirt I could find in my closet, and a bright, low-cut top, to divert his attention from my collagen-free face! Layer upon layer of serum, concealer and foundation went on with the same precision as the eyebrow pencil and the red lipstick. The sound of black stilettos in the foyer could only spell determination.

Throughout dinner, as I pictured my future comfort and peace of mind; double pension, two residences, (one in the city, one by the lake) saving accounts and best of all, the same set of children and grandchildren to fuss over, a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped my sense of judgement.
The more I thought about being driven in winter, and lying on the beach all summer,  the more I leaned forward; the more I ran my fingers through my hair. Al, persistent cause of my past miseries, seemed the perfect antidote to Bill 115, aging and worrying. I felt eighteen again, not in looks or energy, but in insecurities. 
As I took a sip from my third glass of vintage wine, my eyes fell on the faded engraving of my bracelet, I love me. Suddenly, I sat up straight. As sobriety took over my self-doubt, I remembered it took me forty years to forgive myself for abandoning the eighteen-year-old me in a marriage of convenience. 

Later at night as, one-by-one, I rid myself of my weapons of seduction, I knew I was going to end up an older, poorer teacher in a shoe!

Bill, Al, Dick or Harry, just can't get along with any of them! Accepted and filed!
What have you accepted and filed today?

Solzhenitsyn

Dear Friends,

When my mother learnt about my fight against a 'government legislation' (Bill 115) she panicked. Having lived in Iran and Russia, she believes the government can make people disappear! 
"The secret service, will kill you!" She warned. 

A couple of years ago, I would have laughed at her. But, since Ontario's Bill 115, a lot seems plausible. Although I have every confidence that RCMP has much bigger fish to fry than to lose sleep over my opposition, I must admit I couldn't  come back to her with my usual reply to her paranoia, 'Mother, I live in Canada for God's sake!'  

As my thoughts relentlessly pivot around Ontario's Bill 115 and its implications vis-à-vis Democracy, I realize I don't trust my government anymore. It disregarded my rights once, it might again. I'm amazed at people who think it's all about education or teacher salary. What a smart move, to start with the least liked public servants! 

People are so happily busy teacher-bashing that they don't see the ramifications of overnight legislations. 

As my blog continues to be more political than humorous, I'm beginning to feel a bit like the Russian author Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn! 

"If one is forever cautious, can one remain a human being? ”

― Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn

“You can resolve to live your life with integrity. Let your credo be this: Let the lie come into the world, let it even triumph. But not through me.”

― Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn 

No more rights or benefits - just taxes and winter! Accepted and filed! 
What have you accepted and filed today?

Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide

Dear Friends,
According to an article in today's complementary issue of the Toronto Sun, 'Tory white paper zeroes on Ontario Teacher's pension plan ... . 
Fist, Liberals throw up Bill 115, now Tories want to throw out our pension. We might as well kiss our life goodbye! Regardless of the road taken, it seems that we are all going to end up in the same spot.  

If I lived in Iran, and were into cutting deals with Allah, by now I would've made a pilgrimage to Qom to ask Saint Masoomeh either to give me Hercules strength to carry on, or a rich husband to carry me off! Although, I'm not sure what I would've offered her in return. Nothing else to give up! All there is left, are the bare essentials.   

Poor Ontario teachers - nowhere to run, nowhere to hide! Accepted and filed! 
What have you accepted and filed today?

Skin Deep

Dear Friends,

Having conducted my parent-teacher interviews with flying colours, I thought, just for the weekend, I put Bill 115 on the back burner and expand my mind, still rummaging through my 'incomplete' reading materials. Big mistake! I should have limited my activities to putting up my feet, with my good old friend Merlot by my side.

According to Perri Lewis' article in the Psychologies Magazines (August 2012), conditions that trouble our skin hold the secret to what's going on inside our body and in our head. Well, according to my mirror, my exterior doesn't scream peace of mind, or joy! The dark circles, the sagging, flaking skin, the fine lines, the deep wrinkles, the sunken cheeks, the reddish cheekbones and one drooping eyelid attest to a very disturbed personality! 
Apparently, my emotions have an impact on my hormones, which in turn affect my skin, which proceed to influence my mood that definitely gives rise to the kind of personality that lets emotions affect hormones. 

To make matters worse, I also came across an article on morphopsychology. According to Dr. Georges Roman, our face is the exit point of our thoughts and emotions! If I were a Californian celebrity depending on my looks to earn a living, I probably could've sued Bill 115 for damages, from the poor house. However, my success as a teacher rests on my commitment to my students - enthusiasm, energy and creativity runneth over.  

The rest of the weekend went something like this; stressing over stressing over the amount of cortisol my harassed mind pours into my strained body that my silly face feels compelled to show!

The only consolation remaining -  my looks don't impact my teaching! Accepted and filed! 

What have you accepted and filed today?

The Night The Music Stopped...

Dear Friends,

The night my Progress Reports didn't go home, I turned to "Yahoo" for comfort. As I scrolled down comments, especially on 'Ontario teachers' ill-timed work-to-rule campaign ...' article, I had an epiphany! Teacher-bashers don't want to improve students' education. As long as we lose our raise, benefits and summers, they can live with the "lousy job" that they claim we are doing.

If Bill 115 survives, it will ultimately eliminate collective bargaining. Once the government gets rid of unions that protect all teachers, it will be 'shape up or ship out' policy. If our employers take to heart, even tenth of what most people say about us - welcome mail order teachers catalogues! 

In my midnight readings, I also came across the concept of 'merit pay.' Imagine livelihood of teachers depending on students' academic success, when it has been proven that children's home life also affects their performance in school. 

Imagine if we all received 'merit pay!' Police officers salary fluctuating according to the number of criminals they apprehend! Doctors billing only patients whom they have cured! And, politicians' income depending on the level of their constituents' happiness!  

I must say, Ignorance, is a dangerous weapon in the hands of Ignorants! Accepted and filed!

What have you accepted and filed, today?

Victory

Dear Friends,
Although I was quite aware of the fact that my Progress Reports, deemed "incomplete," were not going  to reach their destination last night, to the last second, I thought they just might. Not so much because I believe in miracles, but because of the surreally obscure nature of the matter, altogether.

Although I had taken the time to explain the situation to my students, once the secretary handed out the 'Dear parents, your child is not receiving a Progress Report ..." letter to my students, my glass globe shattered and Truth showed its ugly face. It was like the time I woke up in the middle of the night, thinking I dreamt my father had passed away, only to realize it wasn't a dream.  

I let the students know what was in their Progress Report and urged them to be patient and encourage their parents to pick them up from the office. They seemed satisfied with my explanation. A few even cheered me on, 'Go Madame, Go!' 
My little six/seven-year-olds put on a brave face and left the classroom smiling, leaving me behind heartbroken, in an empty, cold space. It took me a while to come to terms, not so much with what had happened, but why it had. 
Once I noticed I was still standing, I knew neither parental fury nor disciplinary actions could break me. The worst was over. 

Of all the evenings in the year, last night I should have arranged an outing that did not involve me alone. Victory proved to be lonely, bittersweet company, and yet Bill 115 - not accepted or filed!

Justice

Dear Friends,

My father used to say, “People who want to be in the public eye must develop a thick skin.” Since I had a very sensitive disposition, I became a teacher, leaving the spotlight to politicians, actors and other celebrities. My uncle used to say, "If you want to be rich, you have to become an entrepreneur." Since I wasn't fixated on wealth, I became a teacher, leaving money to the wheelers and dealers of the world.  

However, since many Ontario teachers have stolen the spotlight, once again, by taking a stand in view of the Progress Reports, I have no choice but to put on an extra thick sweater and count my money, weathering the harsh climate. Paradoxically, Bill 115, axing my core, has also provided me with the opportunity to stand tall and strong. For the first time in my life, the integrity of what I believe in has taken precedence over my personal wellbeing.

Unless you have lived under dictatorship, oppressed by political, religious, cultural and domestic mandates, you can’t appreciate the value of such opportunity.  When I posted my entry, Opportunity Knocks (October 17), I knew I was taking the lane full of roadblocks.

Every time I review Bill 115 I wonder, I took refuge in a democratic country, what happened to my rights? I joined the public sector of the education system, what happened to my legal contract? I made a career choice based on the benefits it was offering me. Where are my sick-leave days, my right to strike? Can banks suddenly declare they are not into "saving accounts" anymore, and embezzle people’s existing monetary sacrifices? Not yet, anyway! So, why Bill 115 can rob me of the sacrifices I've made for my future? 

I have many friends who complain about their children's selfishness, lack of responsibility and budgeting skills. Well, the only poignant message Liberal government's Bill 115 has sent to our youth and new immigrants is - DON'T BOTHER! 
Thirty-two years ago, I was lucky enough to escape Injustice. Today, on the eve of November 11, as Canada esteems the memory of those who gave up their lives for democracy, I can’t close my eyes or choke the voice inside me that screams, Justice!
The life I have the privilege of living, is a dear gift. To stand up against Bill 115 is the least I can do, to honour the blood, shed for my freedom. 
Accepted and filed! What have you accepted and filed today?

The Body Whisperer

Dear Friends,

Bill 115, affecting my integrity, salary, sick-leave days and pension, has also impoverished me intellectually. To keep within the "new" budget, I’ve stopped buying sophisticated, glossy magazines with well-written articles. Now, I read leftover stale newspapers and free publications.

This weekend, my quest for brain stimuli led me to the tower of old magazines I have built against my study wall. While I was flipping through the pages of Tonic magazine that I had picked up last February from my organic butcher shop, where I shall not be seen again for a very long time, I came across a very interesting ad, BODYTALK - to heal your body with talk!

This morning, before my body had the chance to call on God, with her habitual six o’clock Monday morning plea for retirement, I whispered lovingly,

Dear Head, I’m so sorry Body's vanity takes up so much of your time and space. I shall be talking to her on regular basis now! Dear Head, while I have your ears, please do not invite headaches by taking roads less travelled. Listen carefully and do as told. Yes, conformity is boring, but it’s safe. Thus - good for health! Dear Skin, I continued softly, stop pretending to be sensitive. You are much thicker than you give yourself credit for. I know it, you know it and unfortunately the government knows it, too! Stop itching, flaking and giving into inflammation! You make Body uncomfortable. Dear Belly, stop fussing over what goes into you. Be happy, there is food to take in, at all. It might be fattening, contaminated, hormone and pesticide ridden, or grown in slavery, but it’s here. That should count for something. And dear Body, one more thing; forgive me for calling you ugly last night! You are not fat or flabby. The mirror made me say it. Now get up, and go to work - please. I know the coffee is not from Starbucks, and lunch is leftover dinner. I also know it is dark and cold outside. However, you have no choice, if you want to be fed and clothed, living under my roof!

I love BODYTALK. It certainly has healing properties.

I feel insanely carefree – accepted and filed!

What have you accepted and filed today?