The Texas SBOE's Historic Revision of History*

Over the past few months, I have found myself involved in many discussions about the Texas State Board of Education and their ridiculous new social studies standards. They are making headlines across the country, and countless friends and acquaintances from outside Texas have e-mailed me asking my opinion--not so much because of what I do for a living, but because I live in Texas, which makes me a part of this travesty, I suppose.

And my official opinion is. . . the whole thing sucks. Besides being politically slanted and backwards, the new standards are so long and specific and unwieldy as to be almost useless. I pity the teachers and administrators who have to sort them out. And I really feel for the poor writers who have to figure out how to create workable materials for Texas classrooms.

I've written and edited textbooks and other educational materials for all the major American publishers for the past 18 years. Lucky for me, I do very little social studies work, and when I do it's elementary social studies. I've refused to dive into the treacherous world of "history" for good reason--it's a trap!!

I know how textbooks are developed. I have lived the process--from development of the initial scope and sequence to watching the fold-and-gathers come out the birthing end of a big machine that I don't know the name of--more times than I can count. But mainly I'm in the trenches of content development. I'm one of many who sit at a desk covered with lists of standards from the "important" states and try to figure out how they can be caressed and coddled to correlate with content and instruction and whatever buzz words the marketing people heard at the last big educational conference. Despite what many people believe, we try to do it in a way that makes some kind of sense and in a way that makes the content interesting to kids. Unfortunately, we often don't succeed. The sad truth is that as states produce longer and longer lists of standards that must be met in order for materials to be eligible for purchase, the development of cohesive and meaningful content becomes almost impossible.

In traditional educational publishing, the biggest markets (CA, FL, TX) drive the development of textbooks that are sold across the country because publishers can't afford to publish special editions for every single state. Because of this, the TX standards potentially play a big role in the development of textbooks that are used in other states. This is why the standards in Texas are big news. Well, that and the fact that the people who determine Texas standards are apparently a bunch of nutballs.

So, it makes for very big headlines when our SBOE does something as boneheaded as passing these newly revised social studies standards. I'm embarrassed to see my home state cast in such a negative light (but, sadly, I'm getting used to it). I'm embarrassed by the ignorance and intolerance demonstrated by people who supposedly "represent" me. But I don't believe that the new standards will change much of anything.

Although niche publishers might try to sell some books by publishing "crazy" history that strongly reflects SBOE members' attempts to re-whitewash history, the big publishers will continue to produce materials that teach history as fairly as possible, because even though Texas may drive the content, they still have to sell the books in other states to make their investment back. Writers have ways of meeting silly standards with carefully worded paragraphs in call-out boxes or in the teacher's edition, leaving the actual content intact.

But the real question is whether the publishers are even going to bother with Texas' new social studies standards. Over the past year, publishers have been scrambling to produce books to meet Texas' convoluted new science standards. You remember those; they made headlines last year. But just last week the Texas legislature decided to postpone adoption and purchase of new science textbooks for at least two years. This means that all the money publishers spent deciphering the science standards and developing materials to meet them is lost for now.

Publishers are, above all, businesses. They're not going to continue to invest untold dollars to develop materials for Texas if Texas isn't going to buy them. This, if nothing else, may save the rest of the US from our ridiculous folly.

But there's even more promising news. The entire educational publishing industry is in flux right now. Schools want to move away from the big, expensive basal textbooks with their shiny boxes of supplementary materials that nobody ever uses. More and more content is being developed to be delivered online and on-demand, allowing teachers to easily customize materials that meet their specific needs on a daily basis. As this becomes more and more common, the great big hardback teach-everything-with-one-book books will be phased out, and content providers will be able to offer content that meets the specific standards of each state. Then Texas' standards will be irrelevant to everyone except for the poor schmucks who make them up. Hallelujah!

None of this makes what's going on in the SBOE okay. For one thing, the system is clearly broken and nobody seems to be moving to fix it. Furthermore, the fact that the new standards are a reflection of the political climate in our state saddens and frightens me. Really, the whole thing is enormously embarrassing. But if you think the standards as they passed are bad, you should have heard some of the stuff they tried to get through that DIDN'T pass. One of the board members actually proposed that we teach children both the "pros and cons" of the Civil Rights Movement. Do you know what the "con" was that this imbecile wanted kids to learn about? The Civil Rights Movement "lead to unrealistic expectations of equality."

That one nearly put me over the edge.

* NB: I'm still processing this whole thing. Opinion subject to change without warning.

Negotiations

If this sounds familiar, it's because I posted the first part of the story on facebook as the events were unfolding. I'm repeating it here because 1) as far as I can tell there's no good way to find past posts on facebook other than scrolling through them all and 2) the story continued last night. So. . .

A couple of weeks ago, Mia (to be known henceforth as "the client") hired Zoe ("the artist") to design and create her birthday invitations. The negotiations were hilarious. The artist offered to do the design for $3, and the client declined. Then the artist said she'd go ahead and design something without setting the price, and if the client liked it, the artist would set her price then. The client saw that for the trap it was and agreed on the artist's original bid of $3. So far so good.

The artist produced a prototype. The client wanted changes. The artist wasn't willing to compromise her vision. The client threatened to fire the artist. The artist quit and went to her room. The client sat on the stairs and cried.

Ultimately, artist and client found common ground. The design was accepted and printed. Payment was made and a cupcake was shared as a sign of goodwill.

I sent the invitations out and had a strong drink.

Well, last night, Mia decided that she wanted the original art work to raffle off as a door prize at her party. Zoe told her that for her original $3 fee, she only relinquished the digital rights to her image. If Mia wanted the original piece, she was going to have to pay for it. "$10!" "No way! I'll give you $1." This went on for some time, with Mia eventually agreeing to pay $5. Mia handed over the money and Zoe handed over the artwork. No cupcakes were consumed. But there was no crying this time, either.

In case you don't know, these children are 10 and (almost) 9. The next few years are going to be interesting for sure.

My People: RIP Lee Mannix

Some time ago, a friend called me to ask whether I knew someone who did something. I can't remember exactly what she wanted. But I remember what she said next: "I was talking to So and So about this, and she said to call Robyn. Robyn has people. She has people for everything."

I laughed, but then I realized it's completely true. I have people, AMAZING people, all around me. Family, friends, neighbors, and countless acquaintances. And I'm extremely loyal to my people--whether they're family members, close friends, or people I pay to help me with something. If someone does a job for me, for example, and they do it well, I'll call them again. And again. And again. I think I take for granted the fact that they'll always be there, because my people always are.

Except they're not. Not at all. This week, I lost one of my people. And I know a lot of others who feel the same way. If you didn't know Lee Mannix, you might think that his personality and his talent have been exaggerated in the obituaries, reports, and articles that started to appear within 24 hours of his death. But I can assure you, they have not. The man was a giant--literally and figuratively. He could be intimidating, because he was enormous. But he also had a twinkle in his eye and a smile that lit up everything around him. Mr. Pink and I took three different classes with Lee, and I never saw a dog who didn't respond to him immediately. For real. He could get a dog to do exactly what he wanted with no tricks or prodding. When Lee was at the other end of the leash, a dog paid attention.

My girls had a great relationship with Lee. They were mesmerized by him. For one thing, he had NO filter whatsoever. The man said exactly what came into his head, regardless of who was nearby. He cussed like a sailor in front of my kids, and they thought it was hilarious. He also told a story like nobody I've ever known. Even if it was complete bullshit (and some of his stories must have been) he told a story like it had biblical significance. And if the story didn't have a lesson, it had a punchline. Zoe and Mia were also floored by his way with dogs. He could be working with a dog on one side of the training ring when his super-Lee sense indicated a dog across the ring was about to get in trouble . Whizzzzzzzzttt. He'd frisbee his hat, or a water bottle, or a chair, across the ring where it would land a few feet from the offending dog, distracting and redirecting the behavior. I never, ever saw him hit an animal, but he was always throwing things at just the right moment and it ALWAYS worked. This blew my girls' orderly little minds. Zoe and Mia spent a week with Lee in a special youth dog-handling camp out on his land last summer. They loved that time with him. I know it was a week they'll never forget.

About six months ago, Lee came to our house to help us work on Mr. Pink's terrible front door manners. He had Pink on a leash in the house, and he had his assistant come ring the doorbell. As soon as the doorbell rang and Pink started to go ape shit, Lee blew a whistle, snatched Pink's leash, opened the door, and handed the leash to the assistant, who immediately walked away with the dog. It only took one time. Pink was quiet as a mouse when the assistant rang the bell again. But I knew it wouldn't last. I was sure that the first time the doorbell rang after Lee left, all the barking, snarling silliness would start again. "Nope," he told me. "That's what the whistle is for. Put them all over the house. When someone rings the bell and Pink starts up, blow a whistle." He said that when Mr. Pink heard the whistle, he'd stop what he was doing and look around to find out "where that Irish asshole is hiding."

I could tell ten more stories like this one. And so can hundreds of people. Just check the Lee Mannix Center for Canine Behavior page on facebook and see for yourself. Reading them makes me laugh and cry. Lee was well aware of the effect he had on dogs, but I wonder if he had any idea what kind of an impact he had on the people around him. I sure never told him. And although I think he knew on a certain level because we all kept coming back for more, I'll bet he would have appreciated knowing exactly how he had impacted our lives.

I can't do anything about Lee. He's gone, as unbelievable as that is. But I can start letting the other people in my life know what I love, appreciate, or respect about them. That's what I'm going to do to remember Lee. That, and love my sweet dog every minute of every day.

We're going to miss you, Lee.