A New Approach for Teacher Evaluation?

By now, we have become keenly aware of the President’s novel approach for providing performance feedback to his subordinates via Twitter. Rather than engaging in uncomfortable face-to-face meetings in private, President Trump prefers to simply tweet out excoriating and humiliating barbs about his trusted advisors to millions of followers on social media.

It seems to be working splendidly.

Just this week, Press Secretary Sean Spicer and White House Chief of Staff Reince Priebus were both compelled to resign after being publicly lambasted by the President and his new communications director, Anthony Scaramuchi (a.k.a. “The Mooch”). To illustrate the level of rancor, Scaramuchi – in a bizarre nighttime phone interview with a reporter from The New Yorker magazine – referred to his White House colleague as a “*!@king paranoid schizophrenic.”

Talk about getting thrown under the Priebus. (sorry, I couldn’t resist)

Former US Senator and Attorney General Jeff Sessions, one of Trump’s earliest supporters, has also now found himself in the President’s Twitter crosshairs, due to what most experts consider to be Sessions’s legally responsible decision to recuse himself from the investigation over possible Russian election meddling.

In a series of tweets over the past few days, President Trump has engaged in a one-sided battle against his attorney general, criticizing his inaction in investigating former rival, Hillary Clinton, and referring to the AG as “very weak” and “beleaguered.”

It’s Trump Leadership 101, right? Everyone knows the surest way to build trust and grow and inspire your people is through humiliation and threats.

So, the whole thing got me thinking. Would the Trump approach work in education?

One of the chief complaints about our new teacher evaluation systems is the inordinate time required to complete all of the observations and evaluation forms, schedule one-on-one meetings with dozens of teachers, develop individual goal setting plans, and manage personal development plans to help support struggling teachers.

Let’s be honest – who’s got that kind of time?

Instead of this laborious, inefficient system, why not follow the Trump model?

It’s so simple it makes you wonder why it hasn’t been tried before.

We will simply require each school leader to open a Twitter or Instagram account to provide timely feedback to his or her teachers anytime. Why wait until a twice-a-year evaluation meeting to give meaningful feedback to staff when you can simply blast out actionable critiques in 140 characters or less, 24/7?

If I wake up at 3:00 a.m. upset about something I observed in a teacher’s classroom, I can tweet it out right then – even while sitting on the toilet. There’s no need to wait. When the teacher wakes up and checks her Twitter feed the next morning, she will see that I am upset and immediately focus on being a better teacher that day. And that’s just good for kids.

Other teachers in the building will benefit from reading the harsh criticism of others and work harder to avoid being targeted themselves. If they also don’t like a particular teacher, they can “like” the post and add their own biting comments and retweet it to all their followers. Before you know it, we will have a highly effective approach for shaming our under-performers and coercing improved performance and greater loyalty from the rest.

Hopefully, the end result will be that the ostracized teachers resign on their own accord, saving school administrators hundreds of hours counseling poor teachers out the door and school districts tens of thousands of dollars in possible legal fees and unemployment claims.

It’s genius, don’t you think?

I whipped up a few examples to illustrate how effective this approach might be.

What do you think? In only about five minutes, Principal Jones was able to provide feedback to a half-dozen teachers without ever having to look at their face or listen to their whining.

Now that I think of it, there’s only two reasons I can think of why we shouldn’t give the Trump method of performance feedback a try.

First, because it is abhorrent, repulsive, unprofessional, and undignified. And secondly, because it would also destroy trust and respect between educators and obliterate school culture.

Other than that, I think the Trump Model is a great approach.

No Room for Mr. Wonderful

If you don’t know Mr. Wonderful, allow me to introduce him to you.

This is Kevin O’Leary – a self-made Canadian billionaire who is one of the five deep-pocketed judges on the mega-hit television show Shark Tank.  For those unfamiliar with the premise of the showup-and-coming entrepreneurs pitch deals to the judges—hoping to raise desperately needed capital for their fledgling companies.

Naturally, both the sharks and entrepreneurs alike try to get the best deal they can.  Each is trying to get the most out of their investment.  Occasionally the sharks will compete vigorously amongst themselves when the entrepreneur has developed something ‘special’—an extraordinary product or service that the sharks’ sense will have extraordinary potential in the marketplace.

O’Leary is the Great White Shark of the group. He is brutally honest, aggressive, unrelenting, overly brash and insolent. His interrogations are relentless. He undercuts the other sharks. He tries to give “aggressive” deals to the hopeful people who appear on the show. He’ll be the first to tell you if he thinks your idea is stupid, or if he thinks your business decisions are stupid, or even if he thinks the other sharks are being stupid.

Following in the tradition of former American Idol judge, Simon Cowell, and Hell’s Kitchen’s ill-mannered Gordan Ramsey, Mr. Wonderful has figured out that rude and obnoxious behavior can improve one’s celebrity status.

It also makes for good TV and higher ratings.

“You’re dead to me” is a common retort O’Leary gives to entrepreneurs who decline his offers. Here is a short clip of Mr. Wonderful, well … being wonderful.

So, why how did O’Leary earn the nickname ‘Mr. Wonderful’ when he clearly is not.  The title originated from an off-handed, sarcastic comment born out of disgust from a fellow-shark who despised O’Leary’s approach.  The title, one of derision, was one O’Leary liked, so it stuck.

His reputation hasn’t helped Mr. Wonderful make too many deals in the past seven years. As of last season, O’Leary had closed fewer deals than any of the other sharks and invested only $5.4 million in new companies.

I suppose Mr. Wonderful’s reputation for humiliating and embarrassing well-intentioned, novice entrepreneurs on national television doesn’t engender a lot of trust or mutual respect.

It doesn’t work in the school building either.

Here’s my question for everyone who teaches, everyone who coaches, everyone who stands before another person in the name of mentoring or guiding or instructing them in any way: Are you occasionally a Mr. Wonderful?

Do you ever behave in ways that are more about you than about your students (or employees)? Do you overdo it, put on a big show, humiliate students for the sake of proving who’s in charge (and who’s not)? Because it builds your rep and makes students fear you? Because, in a sense, it makes for good TV?

Have you ever…

  • yelled at a student in a demeaning manner or called them a name (jerk, punk, or worse)?
  • openly compared a student to a sibling or another student for the purpose of embarrassment?
  • called a student’s question stupid?
  • used sarcasm to ridicule a student?
  • read a student’s paper out loud to a class to illustrate a mistake (anonymously or not), and maybe gone too far in making fun of it?
  • cracked a joke about a student’s appearance?
  • revealed some aspect of a student’s personal life for the sake of humor?
  • torn a student’s paper or thrown it into the trash in front of them or other students?
  • thrown a marker, a book, or anything else across the room to get students’ attention?
  • assigned a punishment that would publicly embarrass a student, like wearing something silly or standing in front of peers to single them out?

I am sad to say that as a young educator, I was guilty of some of the things on this list. Sometimes I was unaware that I was being rude or inconsiderate when I made biting comments in class. I didn’t fully understand the damage I was causing to individual children, the overall class climate, and the level of trust students had for me. I was wrong.

If you have never committed any of the actions on the list, that’s fantastic. It means you are extremely patient, compassionate, and hold your students in high regard. You are also an outlier.

I suspect most educators can relate to something on this list or have, at a minimum, tacitly condoned these behaviors in others.

Some of these behaviors are harsher than others, but all of them have one thing in common: They are motivated by our desire to communicate something about ourselves, to build our own reputation—a reputation for being witty, for being smart, for being “real,” for being someone not to be messed with.

Does it work? Sometimes. It gets your point across. It stops undesirable behavior, at least in the short-term. It most definitely teaches a certain type of lesson. And if you’re trying to prepare your students for an even meaner world, well, you’re no doubt accomplishing that.

But it doesn’t produce meaningful learning.

In fact, it changes the subject altogether. If you humiliate someone, their focus moves away from the matter at hand. Instead of thinking about the long-term repercussions of not doing their work, or not paying attention to directions, or not socializing at certain times, or not engaging in silly, attention-getting behavior, that student is now focused on how much they can’t stand you.

Humiliation is usually rooted in power and the desire to make another person embarrassed, scared or isolated. So it is hard to see how it can play a part in mutually respectful relationships.

Now sometimes you get a student who you think deserves to be taken down a couple of pegs, to be put in their place, and public humiliation might really teach them a lesson. Ask yourself this question: Does being humiliated by your boss, colleague, or spouse work to improve your behavior? How does it make you feel long-term?

Ultimately, our role as educators is to help children learn positive behaviors that will make them better, more responsible, more productive, more compassionate people.

Shouldn’t we model the behavior we want to see?

Do we want our well-intentioned students to fear making mistakes because it means risking public ridicule? Do we want the students with challenging behaviors to experience yet another poor role-model, leaving our classrooms angry, and contemplating new ways they can beat us at our game.

Yes, I have had my Mr. Wonderful moments as a teacher and principal and I am not proud of it. I’m pretty sure my actions came at a cost to children and myself, whether I knew it or not.

Children deserve high expectations, rigorous and meaningful learning activities, and a well-structured, positive learning environment. It is also important for us to provide them with appropriate, timely, sometimes direct feedback when they fall short of the goal. But humiliation has no place in a teacher’s classroom management tool box, or a school leader’s leadership style for that matter.

So the next time you’re about to make that big gesture, throw that marker, shut a student up with one of your signature put-downs, or embarrass a student in public, ask yourself whether you’re doing it for the student or for yourself.

And, if you recognize a bit of Mr. Wonderful in you, maybe it’s time to tell your inner Mr. Wonderful he’s now dead to you.

Your students won’t miss him.

Sometimes They’re Right

If you have followed this blog for any length of time, you know I am an unabashed advocate for public education in America.

And, as you may have gathered from my last post, I get angered when individuals or entities use falsehoods and erroneous generalizations to perpetuate an inaccurate narrative of failing schools for political or economic gain.

Contrary to what some policymakers and pundits have said, American public schools are not failing. They are among the best in the world.

To begin with, public education is an absolute right for every child in America, not just the privileged. No other school system anywhere in the world exceeds the United States in providing free access to education for everyone. And that, alone, makes us exceptional.

Our nation has made a commitment to providing a free and appropriate education for every child, regardless of what their parents can afford to pay, regardless of their access to transportation, regardless of whether they can afford uniforms, school meals, or even if they have a home. We even provide education to children who are here without proper immigration status.

We have developed a special education system to help children at the edges that many other countries just can’t touch. In many countries, students with severe physical, emotional, and cognitive impairments are simply excluded. In others they are institutionalized. In some countries it’s up to parents to find ways to pay for special services. The United States is one of the few countries where these children are not only included and offered full and free access, but the schools go above and beyond to teach these children well beyond their 12th academic year.

Even more, the education provided in many of our schools is some of the highest quality you can find in the world. We teach more subjects, provide robust extracurricular opportunities, provide safe and secure learning environments, and produce more high level university scholars than almost any other nation.

Over the past century, the children from the American public education system have changed the world in every area imaginable – from technology to medicine to the military and more.

And yet we are likely the most criticized education system in the world.

And sometimes our critics are right.

When they say our schools are conspicuously segregated by race and class, sometimes they are right.

When they say many children are trapped in sub-par schools with inequitable resources, sometimes they are right.

When they say we don’t do enough to rid our ranks of mediocre teachers and school leaders, sometimes they are right.

When they say we inflate grades rather than hold students accountable for learning, sometimes they are right.

When they say schools disproportionately target students of color for suspensions and other severe discipline, sometimes they are right

When they say districts fail to assign our best and most experienced teachers to our most challenging students and schools, sometimes they are right.

When they say we lower our academic standards to teach to the middle of the class, sometimes they are right.

When they say we don’t provide enough academic rigor in our classrooms, sometimes they are right.

When they say we give up on some kids, sometimes they are right.

When they say homework and other assignments are nothing more than busy work, sometimes they are right.

When they say our teachers don’t collaborate enough, causing significant gaps from one class to another, sometimes they are right.

When they say we love our rules more than we love our kids, sometimes they are right.

When they say children graduate from high school lacking important job skills, sometimes they are right.

When they say our grading practices are unfair and don’t accurately assess student learning to academic standards, sometimes they are right.

When they say our curriculum and pedagogy is outdated, sometimes they are right.

When they say we don’t use research and data effectively to improve teaching and learning, sometimes they are right.

When they say school is boring and lacks meaning for many children, sometimes they are right.

When they say we try to avoid accountability for things within our control, sometimes they are right.

When they say we don’t do enough to communicate and form positive connections with our parents and school community, sometimes they are right.

When they say we are too defensive and averse to change, sometimes they are right.

When they say we could do more to improve education in America, sometimes they are right.

So, yes, we must continue to advocate for our students, teachers, and schools. We have much for which to be proud.

Yet, to serve the children in our schools and communities well, those of us who work in schools must be harder on ourselves than anyone outside of our schools.

As professionals, we must ascribe to the theory that there is no limit for better and pursue excellence in all we do.

We must be more accountable to the families and communities who entrust us with their children.

We must be reflective and critical of how we and our colleagues think, act, and behave. Self respect without self-awareness is useless.

Here’s the bottom line.

The best counter to those who disparage and criticize public schools to promote school choice in America is to ensure our schools are the unequivocal BEST choice for America’s children.

Are you ready to roll up your sleeves to make that happen?

The Box of Shame

In case you didn’t know, dog shaming has become a thing.

Dog shaming is the practice of uploading pictures or video clips of our canine friends, typically with some sort of sign describing a recent negative behavior – perhaps chewing up our favorite pair of shoes, humping your house guest’s leg, getting into the trashcan, pooping on the bed pillows, or snagging a steak from the counter.

Apparently this poor fellow on the left engages in multiple activities worthy of public shame, hence the “fill in the blank” notice on his personal “box of shame.”

There are actual websites devoted to this endeavor (www.dogshaming.com); a few books have been written, and special youtube channels are devoted to cataloging these often hilarious images of dogs expressing either shame or indifference to their acts of destruction.

All in good fun, right?

Welcome to the club, Fido.

For many in public education, the box of shame is all too familiar.

For the past few decades, the practice of public school shaming by policymakers, education reformers, and pro-school choice advocates has evolved to an art form through the use of hyperbole, extreme over-generalization, artful rhetoric and cherry-picking of school data.  These entities use shaming to perpetuate their narrative that public education is systemically broken and that educators are primarily self-serving and dispassionate to the plight of children.

The latest edition of public school shaming is an article from the real estate site, NeighborhoodScout, an online database of U.S. neighborhood analytics created in 2002 by geographer and demographics specialist Dr. Andrew Schiller.

Using the highly charged headline, “Top 100 Worst Public Schools,” Dr. Schiller essentially employs an unproven and unsubstantiated statistical algorithm to rank American public schools based on (what else?) … student test scores in math and reading.

This article recently made waves in Oklahoma due to the fact that ten of the schools making Schiller’s “Top 100 Worst” are in our state – five in Tulsa: Central Junior High, McLain High School for Science and Technology, Project Accept (an alternative school for elementary school students), and Whitman and McClure elementary schools.

Neighborhood Watch claims to have created a patent-pending, first-of-its-kind “nationally comparable” method for rating public schools.

Since states use different academic standards and assessments to measure student progress and comply with federal accountability guidelines, the use of testing results to rank schools nationally has been illusive.

Well, that is until Dr. Schiller came up with his magic formula.

Schiller uses a comparison of state passing rates on selected assessments to disassociated passage rates of a small group of randomly chosen Oklahoma children on the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) to compute a factor which he then uses to align the results from every public school in America.

So simple, right?

Here is how Schiller explains it on the web page:

To make each state’s No Child Left Behind test scores for each district and school comparable to other schools and districts in different states, we subtracted the percentage of students in the state who scored proficient or better from the state-NCLB test from the percentage of students in that state who passed the NAEP, and used this difference (or gap) to align each school and district test scores across the nation. Then we ranked the school districts, and Viola! A curve that brings all districts (and schools) to a nationally comparable rating based on the all-important NCLB tests! This is a first time this has ever been done and it is patent pending! It is really fascinating, and it is exclusive to NeighborhoodScout!

Yes, Dr. Schiller, a highly educated man with a PhD in demographic research, actually used the noun Viola, a stringed instrument, to describe the magic of his formula instead of the word I assume he meant to use: Voila` (pronounced Wah-lah), which means “to call attention, to express satisfaction or approval, or to suggest an appearance as if by magic.”

Maybe he should have just gone with Ta-Da!

To label this exercise of ranking schools nationally using an unproven, overly simplistic, ignorant-of-context mathematical formula as simply irresponsible doesn’t go far enough.

It is reckless. It is immoral and unethical. It is wicked.

Let me be clear. I am not a statistician or professional researcher. I will leave a comprehensive review of Schiller’s methodology, results, and conclusions to those far more adept and schooled in this area than I am.

At the same time, I do possess a high level of healthy skepticism and am reluctant to accept broad conclusions extrapolated from minimal data that lack full vetting from the research community.

In other words, my BS meter is generally pretty accurate.

Grab a shovel.

Do you find it puzzling that 35% of the schools in Schiller’s Worst Schools list are from one Midwest city with a population of only 688,000: Detroit, Michigan. I know there are struggling schools there, but 1/3 of the worst 100? I’m guessing Dr. Schiller doesn’t own any property in Michigan.

It also seems odd that 82 of the top 100 are from only four states: Michigan (52), Ohio (11), Oklahoma (10), and Pennsylvania (9). There’s not a single school from 41 states in America, including Mississippi or the District of Columbia?

How about this? Of the five most populated states: California, New York, Texas, Florida, and Illinois – only one school in Porterville, California made the list. So, zero schools in Los Angeles, New York City or Chicago? Really?!

Let me set aside Schiller’s questionable statistical methodology and conclusions for a larger point. What is the purpose of this study?

Let’s remember this is a real estate website, operated by individuals who have ZERO experience or credibility in assessing school quality.

Schiller has made no effort to factor out any of the contextual factors which affect school and student performance – critical considerations such as generational poverty, unsafe crime-ridden communities, unemployment, lack of community support, absence of adequate health services, and inadequate school funding – just to name a few.

These findings also give zero credit to these schools for the positive aspects they contribute to children – music, arts, and athletics; food, clothing, and health care; positive role models in a safe, secure environment; access to technology and academic enrichment, and daily exposure to dedicated, loving, compassionate adults.

Instead, they profess to have created a magic formula which will produce an accurate ranking of schools based solely on a suspect comparison of school testing data.

For that they want a patent?

It is nothing more than a SHAM.

The sole purpose of false school shaming reports like this one is to discourage families from purchasing homes or property in any of the cities or school districts represented by a “worst 100” school and encourage them to buy elsewhere.

That’s it.

It won’t prompt federal, state or local leaders to increase funding or support of these schools.

It doesn’t provide any instructive feedback to help these schools improve other than “raise your test scores.”

It will make it more challenging to staff these schools with high quality educators since the premise of working at one of America’s “worst schools” is hardly inspiring.

Moreover, it will undercut the morale and spirit of the hard-working teachers and school leaders already working at these schools. It is a slap in the face.

Trust me, the folks who work at all of these schools know better than anyone the areas in which they are struggling. They are working hard every day to help children overcome the challenges of their lives and find success.  They don’t need to be shamed into working harder.

And, what about THOSE kids? Those kids who are almost exclusively poor, non-white, and often neglected and under-served by society. Children growing up in shattered, tenuous homes located in broken neighborhoods and communities.

What about them?

Many of these children are struggling with unfair labels and judgments as it is.  How does the “knowledge” that they attend one of the worst schools in America make these children feel about their own life experience, about learning in general, about their future potential, and about society’s support of children like them?

I can tell you this. The last thing any child needs is to be put in a box of shame with a sign, “I’m stupid.”

Come to think of it – even dogs deserve better than this.

It Never Always Gets Worse

Too tired to keep running, too committed to stop.

This is precisely how I felt after completing the second of three 16.67 miles loops during a 50-mile ultra-marathon in Tulsa this past 4th of July.

Seven hours and 33 miles into the race, I was soaked to the bone after hours of running in a constant rain, which began with a full-fledged thunderstorm at midnight. I was hungry and weary from lack of sleep. My legs were cramping, my energy level had waned, and the proposition of running one more 16 mile loop seemed insurmountable.

I’ve been in this spot before – in the Marine Corps, in running, and in my life. I have learned the key to beating any significant challenge in life is to just keep going.

When you’re tired…

When it hurts too bad…

When you’re too far behind…

When it would just be easier to quit…

When others are telling you to just give up…

You just have to push through it. And what I’ve learned when I do this is that often – not always but often – the best experiences are right on the other side of this decision.

Legendary ultra-marathoner, Gary Cantrell, the creator of “The Barkley,”  a 100-mile trail ultra-marathon held in the mountains of Tennessee (a course so difficult that only 15 runners out of about 1000 since 1986 have finished within the 60 hour cutoff), once said:

“It never always gets worse.”

What I believe Cantrell means is that in our absolute depths of despair or at the peak of frustration all we see is that negativity extrapolated forward. It doesn’t have to be that way.

Our minds are skilled at telling us what will happen if we don’t stop. It reminds us if we don’t change course, we will suffer and be miserable.  That we can’t possibly do what we have been challenged to accomplish. That there is nothing wrong with stopping short of our potential.

The worst thing we can do is listen to that voice.

Not on the 50-mile run you don’t think you can complete; not in the middle of a stressful year in the classroom; not in the middle of a fight in a relationship you’re starting to think it’d be easier to just walk away from; not in that moment when you think you’ve taken on more projects and responsibilities than you can possibly handle, and not during the game that doesn’t look like you could possibly win.

Because it doesn’t always get worse.

What the mind can’t see is that many of our challenges in life are leading somewhere good—that a rough experience can transform into a rewarding opportunity or cherished memory. That those painful miles, stressful experiences, and frustrating days are adding up to something. That the taxing days in the classroom are making you a better teacher; that the relationship is having growing pains while it is becoming something better; that the project has value because it is hard and forcing you to stretch yourself; that nobody knows how a game will end until it’s over and that winning isn’t all that’s important.

You know this to be true – not everything that’s hard is good, of course, but almost everything good and worth doing is sometimes hard.

What is that challenge in your own life you are struggling to overcome? I am the first to admit that running fifty miles pales in comparison to some of the challenges faced by many of you in your own lives.

Sometimes it’s going to get worse, but then other times, it is going to get better.

We all have experienced that feeling of being too sad, too tired, too frustrated, or too inadequate to go on. But if we can muster the confidence and fortitude and commit ourselves to push on for one more mile or one more day, the rewards can be indescribable.

What’s on the other side of your toughest challenges?

I’ll tell you. You. You are on the other side of those struggles. A you that is stronger, more resilient, more self-aware, and more alive.

That’s why you gut it out. Why you don’t quit.

Because it never always gets worse.

Because sometimes it gets unimaginably, suddenly, awesomely better.

After the soreness wears off anyway.

 

Remembering Our Heroes!

Memorial Day weekend has become the unofficial start of summer. A time when our thoughts naturally turn to long, restful days at the lake, cookouts with friends and neighbors, pool parties, and family vacations.

It is also an opportunity for many major retailers to promote special “Memorial Day” sales. Today’s Tulsa World included circulars for Belks, Dillards, Sears, Kohls, JC Penneys, and even Big Lots. While I understand that these companies are simply trying to make a profit with the underlying theme of American patriotism, I wish they would leave this holiday alone. Having a special sale on outdoor grills, hand bags, and summer clothes is perfectly appropriate–just don’t tie it to what should be a solemn observance of Americans and their sacrifice (in my humble opinion anyway).

Originally called Decoration Day, from the early tradition of decorating graves with flowers, wreaths and flags, Memorial Day is a day for remembrance of those who have died in service to our country. It was first widely observed on May 30, 1868 to commemorate the sacrifices of Civil War soldiers, by proclamation of Gen. John A. Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic, an organization of former Union sailors and soldiers.

During that first national celebration, former Union Gen. and sitting Ohio Congressman James Garfield made a speech at Arlington National Cemetery, after which 5,000 participants helped to decorate the graves of the more than 20,000 Union and Confederate soldiers who were buried there.

We do not know one promise these men made, one pledge they gave, one word they spoke; but we do know they summed up and perfected, by one supreme act, the highest virtues of men and citizens. For love of country they accepted death, and thus resolved all doubts, and made immortal their patriotism and their virtue.

James A. Garfield
May 30, 1868 Arlington National Cemetery

Several years ago our nation lost Frank Buckles of West Virginia, the last veteran from World War I. The number of World War II veterans is also shrinking at a rapid rate. While we still have these great Americans with us, it remains a civic duty to recognize their service and sacrifice to our country.

As with Independence Day, Memorial Day is a day for all of us to set aside our many differences and focus instead on our common beliefs and heritage, while honoring those who died in service of our great nation.

Music has always been an important part of this observance. Over the years, quite a few musicians have shared their talents to perform poignant, often emotional tributes to our military men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

Here is my short list of favorite Memorial Day songs. If you choose to watch the videos, grab some tissues in advance. Please leave links to your favorites in the comments. I would enjoy listening to them.

“I Drive Your Truck,” Lee Brice

Telling a story of a parent who’s mourning a child killed in battle, this song strikes deep. I cannot even imagine the pain. It’s a simple, heartbreaking image: A father continues to drive his son’s truck as a way of easing the pain of losing him to the war in Afghanistan. The song, based on the true story of Paul Monti and his son, Sgt. 1st Class Jared Monti, won Song of the Year at the 2014 Academy of Country Music Awards.

“I Won’t Let Go,” Rascal Flatts

The lyrics to this song are intentionally vague to relate to a wide audience, yet the video clearly connects to the loss of a loved one in service of our country.

“If You’re Reading This,” Tim McGraw

This one gets to me. For those who have served in a war zone, the idea of writing a “goodbye letter” to loved ones is incredibly difficult. What can you possibly say to adequately convey your love while attempting to soften the tremendous loss felt by the person or persons reading your words? I am blessed that my wife and children never had to read mine.

“Dress Blues,” Jason Isbell/Drive-By Truckers

Beautiful, bitter, and sad, this 2006 ballet has not been widely heard. The song is dedicated to Jason’s high school buddy who joined the Marines at 18, fought in the Middle East and never returned home. The refrain is compact and evocative: “You never planned on the bombs in the sand or sleeping in your dress blues.” Whew!

“Some Gave All,” Billy Ray Cyrus

Though not nearly as well-known as “Achy Breaky Heart,” I enjoyed this song by Billy Ray Cyrus much more. The chorus sums up the purpose of Memorial Day well:

“All Gave Some, Some Gave All
Some stood through for the red, white and blue
And some had to fall
And if you ever think of me
Think of all your liberties and recall
Some Gave All”

“Hymn to the Fallen,” John Williams

A moving instrumental which highlights American cemeteries around the world along with the number of Americans who gave their lives on foreign soil in defense of our nation.

“Proud to be an American,” Lee Greenwood

Any list of Memorial Day songs has to include this classic. I first heard this song in April 1991 as a Marine Corps Captain during the flight home from the Persian Gulf War. The pilot came on the intercom and told us that “this song” was all over the radio while we were overseas. After eight months away from my family, let’s just say this song struck a chord with me and many other Marines on the plane that day.

It was the only time I ever saw a General cry. It will always be my favorite.

“And I’m proud to be and American,
where at least I know I’m free.
And I wont forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,
next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,
God bless the USA.”

Finally, I want to remind everyone about the “National Moment of Remembrance.” This resolution was passed in Dec 2000 and asks that at 3 p.m. local time each Memorial Day, for all Americans “to voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to Taps.”

God Bless our fallen heroes and their families this Memorial Day!

The Little Legislature That Couldn’t

There was a little legislature with nice words and false praises
to Oklahoma’s teachers, I’ll bring you some raises.
While the OKC Chamber and Big Oil worked to kill 779,
the little legislature assured teachers, “you can trust me this time.”

“Choo choo, choo choo, choo choo, choo choo, I feel so good today
Oh, clear the track, oh clickety clack, I’ll go our merry way.”

The little legislature stumbled and bumbled its way to sine die,
it was clear from the start Senator Holt’s 10K plan was not going to fly.
The same fate was in store for Mike Roger’s 1-2-3
As least I’ll build a framework – believe me teachers – you’ll see.

Yet, by early April, indeed we did see
the promise of compromise was never to be.
There would be no new revenues to support teacher pay,
so the little legislature just gave up and now seemed to say.

“I can’t go on, I can’t go on, I’m weary as can be
I can’t go on, I can’t go on, this job is not for me.”

The little legislature started catching some flak,
when a great big engine called OIL came a whistling down the track.
They asked if they would pitch in few cents on the dollar,
but with a high and mighty sneer, OIL scornfully hollered,

“Don’t bother me, don’t bother me to pull the likes of you
Don’t bother me, don’t bother me, we have already paid our dues.”

The Dems all started crying cause that engine was so mean
so the Repubs came back with tax tricks and several new fees.
On cigarettes and new cars, $300 million will bring,
add Rainy day and one-time funds and we got this thing.

The little legislature hitched on to the plan and sang this song

“I think I can, I think I can, I think I have a plan
And I can do ‘most anything if I only think I can.”

But the teachers shouted out, what about our raises?
The little legislature replied, “how ungrateful,” you owe us your praises.
We held your schools harmless in our fragile house of cards,
quit being greedy and kindly give us your regards.

As the little legislature closed up and left town in a hurry,
Thousands of teachers yelled out with much fury
Little legislature, you told us you could, yet denied us again,
you protected your donors and left us to fend.

You are the little legislature who couldn’t,
We’re not surprised; many knew that you wouldn’t
For many Oklahoma’s schools, you’ve now sealed their fate
As hundreds of our best teachers soon leave the state.

The lack of respect and years of false hope,
Is more than many can continue to cope
They’re off to new jobs or switching careers
Spreading their wings and shedding their fears.

And very soon they’ll start to say, I always knew I could
I knew I should, I knew I could, I knew I would
I hate to move on after all the years I have fought
Sadly I must because of a little legislature that could yet would not.

And they’ll say,

“Choo choo, choo choo, choo choo, choo choo, I feel so good today
Oh, clear the track, oh clickety clack, I’ll go our merry way.”

The little legislature speeds from the station,
leaving our teachers’ pay dead last in the nation,
As our state moves forward, there is now no mistaking
The cliff we’re approaching is of our own making.