Up until now, I have not-so-subtlely rubbed the benefits of my school in your digital faces. But cynical skeptics like myself must find the bad in everything. And at my school it is this: lack of discipline. As the title of this post suggests, I only share my thoughts on this topic in an attempt to share my love for this school's students -- or I'm just annoyed.
I've never been one for enforcing rules, especially those that seem petty. It was a known fact that I was not a part of the flip-flop intifada at my last school, never reporting the wearing of said footwear to administrators and in fact flaunting my own during in-service days. But I have always agreed that some rules should be enacted to preserve the stability of a community. Even if people often don't like the rules, they sometimes like to know on which side of the law they stand.
In an hour I will leave on a three-day field trip with a group of high-schoolers. It has been clearly issued that every student MUST bring and wear a hat to avoid sunburn and/or sunstroke. But the powers that be have refused to issue a ruling that students MUST NOT smoke during the trip, even though it is not allowed on campus.
The first argument is that those old enough should be allowed to smoke because we are not on the smoke-free campus. I posit that the rules of a community should follow that community, even if they go "off campus." After all, the school rule against drinking, which supersedes the national legal age of 18 (the same as for smoking), remains in effect.
So the second argument arises: If you acknowledge smoking as an addiction, you don't want to bar students from a trip because of a "health condition." Of course, I can easily point out that alcoholism also is an addiction, so we should bend that rule as well. But more importantly (and yes, I would've been a hypocrite at one point in my life for saying this), if you can't go three days without tobacco to enjoy a get-out-of-school-free trip, then by all means, stay home and chain-smoke.
In the end, what is most bothersome is that there seems to be acknowledgment that both arguments are without validity, that this is to avoid confrontation with some students and parents. The school is bowing to a minority -- a small one, at that -- to assuage dissent. Which brings us to the third argument: Is it appropriate to enforce a don't ask-don't tell rule on smoking without informing the parents of all the nonsmokers that this will be the policy? I'm sure many parents are assuming that the same rules at school apply on school trips, which certainly isn't unthinkable. At least in the military, soldiers know that the GI Joe in the next bunk might be jonesing for the same sex.
But this is the way of this school -- and perhaps the country: smooth sailing is valued over rocky negotiation, perhaps because the latter hasn't often led to the former in the past. But man, does that rub my American sense of imposition wrong. Truly, I don't care if I catch a whiff of smoke, even during a lovely restaurant meal, but I don't want to have to play the heavy if the smokers overstep their bounds. It's just so much easier to blame the administration. Natch.
23 October, 2007
07 October, 2007
This is the best of the land ... because it is holy to the Lord (Ezekiel 48:14)
Every day, the newspapers are espousing what Israel has done or is doing wrong (um, yea, about that bombing Syria thing), so in the interest of fair and balanced coverage (just call me Fox News), I thought I would share some of the things that I think Israel is doing right:
The bus system: With only a burgeoning train network, the bus lines have become extremely efficient. You can get in between major cities on a daily basis and across town in a major city within an hour. But the best part is the location of bus stops; pull-offs alongside highways are accessible from walking paths into the neighborhoods, so the buses can maximize pick-ups without having to wind through residential streets (which, incidentally, are not among the things Israel does right). And if Egged's bus schedule doesn't fit yours, sheruts, or community taxis, run the same lines. No more running to the stop, because a sherut is likely a few minutes behind the bus.
Plastic and glass recycling: You might not easily find a garbage can along the street, but if you walk a couple of blocks, you're certain to run into a large green cage for depositing plastic bottles. Most of them are more than half-full, so it would seem Israelis are way ahead of the eco-game or recycling collection workers are way behind. Glass bottles run Michigan-style; if you buy beer by the case, you return the empties to the supermarket when you pick up your next party pack. Paper products are a different story. Napkins, cigarettes, and newspapers become beachside tumbleweed. This, I'm sure, is the only reason Gore beat this environmentally-minded country for the Nobel prize.
Car security: In my old car, I had a blinking LED light on my dashboard; presumably, would-be thieves would think it was a security system and head to the next car (not that the car being a Ford Focus wasn't deterrent enough). In Israel, there is still a blinking light, but it's accompanied by a keypad where you must punch in a code before you can start your car. It's amazing how much moving this small device from the lock to the ignition increases the chances that my Hyundai Getz (the Toyota Camry of Israel) will not get hotwired.
Buffet breakfasts and business lunches: The former is usually included with the cost of a hotel room, and the latter is usually less than $20, and both are generous. The breakfasts will offer fruits, vegetables, cheeses, pastries, eggs, and drinks (Pancakes and French toast aren't big here; bagel and lox are). The lunches will come with a starter, main course, and drink. And lucky for me, Sunday is a work day for the Israelis, so I can leech off the working stiffs on my day off.
Irrigation agriculture: Speaking of food, I wasn't expecting much in terms of fresh produce when I realized I was coming to a desert. But my first bite of watermelon immediately changed my mind; it was the most juicy and flavorful piece I had ever tasted. And that's not all. The same goes for kiwis, peaches, mangos, and avocados. This is a result of that ingenius and innovative Israeli Simcha Blass, who invented drip irrigation. The idea not only opened Israel to agriculture, it also promoted the conservation of water in an area lacking in available groundwater. Sadly, water supplies are continuing to be drained (pun intended), so the country needs a new Simcha to lead hydroliberation.
Urban planning: When I hear the words "industrial zone," I think of the smokestacks on the Ohio River surrounded by the vast dumping grounds of the Meadowlands. But in Israel, industrial zones are centralized areas where workers toil in the upper floors of skyscraping office buildings by day then head down to the ground floors to eat, drink, and shop by night. These mini-downtowns provide a way to draw traffic and noise away from residential neighborhoods. Of course, this causes congestion in the industrial zones themselves, but hey, if you grab a parking space in the morning, your car can stay there through happy hour and beyond.
Chilling out: Israel is good at incorporating the best of other cultures into its own. It has effectively stolen the afternoon siesta from Spain, for example. From about 2 to 4 p.m., offices, banks, and some stores shut down, so everyone can kick back with a mid-afternoon snack. And even better, for many adults, that snack is an ice cream novelty bar and coffee; does it get any better than a Nestle Crunch bar dipped in cappuccino? Only about five hours later, the same people will reconvene the relaxation at restaurants, where no obtrusive servers are trying to turn tables. Of course, that means you aren't going to get a table until at least 11 if you didn't make reservations. But hey, you can bide time with another popsicle, right? Damn right.
The bus system: With only a burgeoning train network, the bus lines have become extremely efficient. You can get in between major cities on a daily basis and across town in a major city within an hour. But the best part is the location of bus stops; pull-offs alongside highways are accessible from walking paths into the neighborhoods, so the buses can maximize pick-ups without having to wind through residential streets (which, incidentally, are not among the things Israel does right). And if Egged's bus schedule doesn't fit yours, sheruts, or community taxis, run the same lines. No more running to the stop, because a sherut is likely a few minutes behind the bus.
Plastic and glass recycling: You might not easily find a garbage can along the street, but if you walk a couple of blocks, you're certain to run into a large green cage for depositing plastic bottles. Most of them are more than half-full, so it would seem Israelis are way ahead of the eco-game or recycling collection workers are way behind. Glass bottles run Michigan-style; if you buy beer by the case, you return the empties to the supermarket when you pick up your next party pack. Paper products are a different story. Napkins, cigarettes, and newspapers become beachside tumbleweed. This, I'm sure, is the only reason Gore beat this environmentally-minded country for the Nobel prize.
Car security: In my old car, I had a blinking LED light on my dashboard; presumably, would-be thieves would think it was a security system and head to the next car (not that the car being a Ford Focus wasn't deterrent enough). In Israel, there is still a blinking light, but it's accompanied by a keypad where you must punch in a code before you can start your car. It's amazing how much moving this small device from the lock to the ignition increases the chances that my Hyundai Getz (the Toyota Camry of Israel) will not get hotwired.
Buffet breakfasts and business lunches: The former is usually included with the cost of a hotel room, and the latter is usually less than $20, and both are generous. The breakfasts will offer fruits, vegetables, cheeses, pastries, eggs, and drinks (Pancakes and French toast aren't big here; bagel and lox are). The lunches will come with a starter, main course, and drink. And lucky for me, Sunday is a work day for the Israelis, so I can leech off the working stiffs on my day off.
Irrigation agriculture: Speaking of food, I wasn't expecting much in terms of fresh produce when I realized I was coming to a desert. But my first bite of watermelon immediately changed my mind; it was the most juicy and flavorful piece I had ever tasted. And that's not all. The same goes for kiwis, peaches, mangos, and avocados. This is a result of that ingenius and innovative Israeli Simcha Blass, who invented drip irrigation. The idea not only opened Israel to agriculture, it also promoted the conservation of water in an area lacking in available groundwater. Sadly, water supplies are continuing to be drained (pun intended), so the country needs a new Simcha to lead hydroliberation.
Urban planning: When I hear the words "industrial zone," I think of the smokestacks on the Ohio River surrounded by the vast dumping grounds of the Meadowlands. But in Israel, industrial zones are centralized areas where workers toil in the upper floors of skyscraping office buildings by day then head down to the ground floors to eat, drink, and shop by night. These mini-downtowns provide a way to draw traffic and noise away from residential neighborhoods. Of course, this causes congestion in the industrial zones themselves, but hey, if you grab a parking space in the morning, your car can stay there through happy hour and beyond.
Chilling out: Israel is good at incorporating the best of other cultures into its own. It has effectively stolen the afternoon siesta from Spain, for example. From about 2 to 4 p.m., offices, banks, and some stores shut down, so everyone can kick back with a mid-afternoon snack. And even better, for many adults, that snack is an ice cream novelty bar and coffee; does it get any better than a Nestle Crunch bar dipped in cappuccino? Only about five hours later, the same people will reconvene the relaxation at restaurants, where no obtrusive servers are trying to turn tables. Of course, that means you aren't going to get a table until at least 11 if you didn't make reservations. But hey, you can bide time with another popsicle, right? Damn right.
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