Category Archives: Personal Passions, Interests and Stories

Simple Truth: Trying Kids Need Love, Too.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the interactions that I’ve had over the course of my career with ‘trying’ kids.  

You know the ones I’m talking about:  They talk over their peers, they use unkind words, and they show up late for class.  They sit in other people’s seats and refuse to move.  They seem to find a way to break rules at every turn.  You think about them all of the time — worried about what they are going to do next and you spend TONS of time talking to colleagues about the new and interesting ways that they’ve driven you nuts from day to day.

Used to be, I’d go full on Enforcer on those kids.  Punishment was my primary intervention.

Want to blurt out in class?  You’d better be ready to have your Pride Guide signed.  Using unkind words in class?  I’m going to fuss at you until you cry to show you what unkind words look and feel like.  Determined to break rules that other kids follow without question?  I’m calling you out in front of everyone, calling the principal, and then calling your parents.

Then — just to rub salt in the wound — I’d use condescending language like, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to follow the rules?” or “Sooner or later, you are going to figure it out.”

Most of the time, I believed that punishment mattered for trying kids — and I believed I was the right person to deliver those punishments.  “If these kids don’t learn how to behave,” I’d say, “they are NEVER going to succeed in life.  SOMEONE has to teach them that there are consequences for their actions.  SOMEONE has to hold them accountable — and if their parents can’t do it, I will.”

#sheesh

What I didn’t bother thinking a whole lot about was an argument that my friend Chris Tuttell makes all the time:  Trying kids aren’t TRYING to be difficult. 

Chris rightly believes that no child wakes up in the morning intending to be unkind or to use hurtful language or to be in trouble at every single turn.  And more importantly, kids who are struggling to meet our behavioral expectations have the same mental and emotional needs as the kids who please you the most day in and day out.

She writes:

Read that again, guys:  ALL kids want praise.  ALL kids want acceptance.  ALL kids want hugs and love and to know that someone is proud of them.  

More importantly, all kids DESERVE praise and acceptance and hugs and love and to know that someone is proud of them.

But is that what happens in our buildings?  ARE we taking steps to let every kid know that they have value and that we believe in them?  Or is our pride and praise reserved for the small handful of kids who act in ways that we expect?

#worthasking

The good news is that this is an easy fix. 

Find a trying kid today.  Take a minute to tell him the things that you love the most about him.  When you see him following rules, celebrate him — and make sure it happens in front of his peers, who have probably come to see him as more of a pest than a partner.  Call home and let his mom know that you believe in him and love him and are excited to have him in your class.

Doing so will help to redefine that child in the eyes of everyone. 

His peers will see him as an equal instead of as an annoyance.  His parents will appreciate and support you when you need their help.  And HE will start to see HIMSELF differently.  Because he feels acceptance from you, he will be less restless in your classroom and he’ll try harder to meet your expectations because he won’t want to let you down.

Doing so will also give you the emotional leverage to be heard in the moments where you have to deliver correction.  It’s a heck of a lot easier to point out misbehavior or to get trying kids to invest effort in changing when they realize they aren’t your target anymore.

But most importantly, YOU will stop seeing the trying kids in your class as annoyances and start seeing them as the amazing, inspiring people that they have been all along.

That matters.

___________________

Related Radical Reads:

Is Your School a “Rules First” or “Relationships First” Community?

Three Promises I’m Making to the Parents of Quirky Kids.

Simple Truth:  Kids Want to Be Noticed.

Advice on Teaching and Parenting for Kyle Hamstra!

11/08/2017

Dear Kyle,

I’m thinking a ton about you tonight — wondering, really, whether or not tonight will be the night when you become a PARENT for the first time!  

That’s an interesting word, isn’t it?  Parent?

A new part of your identity — something that will define you more than any word has ever defined you before.

Sure, you’re still a teacher.  You’re also still a friend and a colleague and a husband and a son.  You’re still a guy with conservative values from small town Indiana.  You are also a blogger and a Tweeter and a thought leader in your school and in our county. And of course, you’re still the #hashtag180 guy and a STEM guy and an #edcampwake guy.

(You birthed that too, didn’t you?!)

But you are also going to be a PARENT — and that changes everything.  You’ll see.  I’m not sure you believe us yet, even though Chris and Melanie and I have been gently nudging you towards that reality for the past few months.

I thought a lot about what to “get” you to celebrate Baby Hamstra’s entry into your life — and then realized that nothing that I bought from the Baby Barn could rival the advice that I have to give you about being both a parent and a teacher.

You see, there’s a ton of things you need to know, now that you are joining the card carrying ranks of teachers who are also parents.  There are practical things to consider — like how to rearrange your morning AND afternoon schedule to fit within your day care’s drop off and pickup times or how to pack the perfect bag of stuff to keep your kid busy as you sit through teacher workdays for the next 18 years of his life.

You’re also going to have to get REALLY good at writing sub plans — and at watching those 85 sick days of yours get whittled down to 14 because your kid has “hand, foot and mouth disease” or head lice and isn’t welcome back into day care or preschool or first grade until they “aren’t exhibiting symptoms” anymore.

There are also heartwarming things that you are going to need to learn — like finding places in your classroom to hang countless finger paintings made by YOUR kid.  Who cares if they don’t look like anything recognizable.  You’ll recognize them and hold on to them and smile every time you see them.

So will your students, by the way — who are going to LOVE hearing stories about both you and your child.

You’ll become even more to them now — moving from “that cool young teacher” to a real live DAD.  Let them see you with your kid at school functions.  Tell them about dirty diapers and fun weekend outings.  Pull up pictures on your phone.  Every personal story that you share will make you more real to your students than you have ever been before — and real teachers are worth their weight in gold.

You also need to know that being a Dad is going to change who you are as a teacher, Kyle.

You are going to start questioning everything about our “system” of education.  As you are scrambling around the house after a long day looking for a freaking shoe box to make a last minute diorama for a social studies project, you’ll start to question why you ever thought that homework was a good idea to begin with.

As you are listening to a teacher share their concerns and complaints about your kid’s inability to sit still, you’ll start to question why we ever thought it was a good idea to ask kids to sit still for 6 hours a day to begin with.

As you look over report cards that tell you next to nothing about what your child knows and is able to do, you’ll start to question the role that grades play in your own classroom.

And as you think about the interactions your child’s teachers have with him — pushing him, challenging him, inspiring him OR belittling him, embarrassing him, holding him back with crazy rules or ridiculous policies — you’ll start to question every interaction you’ve ever had with a student in your own classroom.  Better yet, you’ll start to strive to be the teacher you know your own kid deserves — and that will make you even better and more beloved than you are already are.

You are going to become FAR more tolerant and FAR more understanding of every kid and every family in your classroom — and that’s a good thing.  But you are also going to become FAR less tolerant of practices that we’ve accepted in education — and that’s going to make you uncomfortable on a good day and disgruntled on the worst.

But you also need to know that you are going to have to give a lot up, too, Kyle — starting with your insane levels of involvement in and commitment to your school, our district and the social spaces that we all know that you love.  

Until now, being chased out of the building by the janitors each night was a sign of your commitment.  Until now, attending every #edcamp within a hundred miles of Raleigh was a sign of your passion for improving education.  Until now, Tweeting and blogging and Voxing a thousand times a day was your way of both staying involved and of giving back.

But starting in just a few short hours, all of those things steal moments from your OWN child and from your OWN growing family.  A minute on your phone participating in a chat is a minute that you aren’t reading a book or building a fort or climbing a tree.  A few hours on a Saturday driving down to the beach to meet and learn from your peers in another part of our state is a few hours of cuddling or laughing that you’ll miss out on, too.

And believe me — you’ll look back ten years from now and miss those moments.  Life really does in the blink of an eye once you really DO have a baby on board.

You also have to realize that “your best efforts” on behalf of your students don’t have to be Herculean. 

I get it — you pride yourself on giving your all.  Your lessons are well crafted.  Your materials are always prepared.  Your assignments are graded quickly and handed back with tons of feedback.

But here’s the thing:  THAT’s not what makes you remarkable and memorable to your students.  What they remember is that you care about them and that you are excited to see them and that you are ready to ask them fantastic questions and celebrate their terrific answers.

They remember who you are — not what you’ve planned or how quick you got their papers graded.

So get comfortable with being a little LESS prepared than usual.  Get ready to walk out of school at 5 PM no matter what — and to leave every single paper ungraded and email unanswered until you walk back in at 8 AM the next morning.  You’ll still be one of the best teachers in your building.  But more importantly, you’ll be a better husband and father all at the same time.

Giving at least as much of yourself to your own kid as you give to the kids in your classroom HAS to be a nonnegotiable for you, no matter how strange that feels to you.

And here’s the one that hurts the most:  You MAY even have to walk away from the classroom completely.

The truth is that — at least here in North Carolina — it’s tough to provide for your family on a teacher’s salary.  Sure, you’ll always have a roof over your head and food in your belly.  And yes, you’ll always be able to buy school supplies and pay for field trips.

But if you want anything more than that — if you want tutors and sleep away camp and family trips to Disney World and a new minivan with room for the entire soccer team on the way to out of town tournaments, you are going to need a second (and probably a third) job.

And take it from me:  Those second and third jobs are going to crush you.

You’ll sneak home in time to kiss your kid goodnight and wonder what you missed while you were gone.  You’ll head out early on the weekends, hoping to get home in time for a family afternoon, but knowing that you are going to miss the slow, lazy routines that make Saturday mornings so special.

The older your child gets, the harder this will be for you — because he will tell you how much he misses you.

He’ll ask you if you can watch a movie with him on a Friday night and you’ll have to tell him that you have part time work to do.  He’ll wait on the porch for you to get home, no matter how late you are.  And he’ll write you notes telling you to have a good day — which will break your heart because you know that if you weren’t working two (or three) jobs, you’d be home to hear him say those same words in person.

Things might not be a LOT different if you move into school leadership or a curriculum coaching position in the district office.  Those folks work long hours, too.  But at least you’ll know that you are being paid enough money to give your child everything that you want him to have.

I know what you are thinking right now:  There’s no WAY you’d ever leave the classroom, right?  You are, above and beyond all, a TEACHER.

It’s who you are.  It’s what you have been for your entire career.  You are proud of what you’ve accomplished.  You love the impact you are making on everyone around you — but especially on the countless kids who will remember Mr. Hamstra as their favorite teacher.

But you are going to be a DAD, now.

And that changes everything.

Super happy for you — and super excited to see what you become.

Rock right on,

Bill


Related Radical Reads:

Are Grades Destroying My Six Year Old Kid?

My Favorite Radical Heads to Kindergarten.

Welcoming the Newest Radical!

 

Is Your School Producing “Copy and Paste” Kids?

Something special happened to me last week, y’all:  I was at school late on Wednesday trying to get myself above water after three days with a brand new group of sixth graders.  I was equal parts exhausted and frustrated.  Schedules were wonky, the air conditioning in my room wasn’t working, and I had a thousand signed parent information forms to file.

That’s when Stephen walked in.  

He’s a senior in college now.  Going to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill — one of the toughest schools in our state to get into. Majoring in finance and set to make a bazillion dollars over the course of his life.

But he’s got the same energy and spirit and smile that he had when he was my student almost a decade ago.  A kinetic energy.  Constantly moving.  Constantly thinking.  Constantly riffing on ideas and finding humor in situations.  Constantly questioning — questioning rules and limits and expectations and ideas and people.

I’ve always loved that energy and spirit — and I knew it would make Stephen remarkably successful someday.  But it didn’t make him all that successful in school.  Instead, it got him in a ton of trouble with teachers who didn’t see value in a kid who couldn’t sit still and who was just as likely to blurt out 37 times a class period as he was to turn in a piece of work that showed a depth of thinking far and beyond grade level expectations.

I watched teachers try to crush Stephen — and it broke my heart.

They’d sign his behavior tracker for talking out of turn.  They’d call him out in front of everyone when he wasn’t sitting down.  They’d grumble ABOUT him and grumble AT him, wishing that he would “just follow the rules.”  I’d point out that everything that he’d blurt out in class was brilliant and they’d point out that blurting is disruptive and disruptive kids should be punished.

One woman was more than a little open about her dislike for Stephen, going as far as to argue that tolerating his actions would send the wrong message to all of the rest of our students about “what is acceptable and what is unacceptable” in school.  To her, he was intolerable — and she wasn’t willing to apologize for her opinion.

That sucks, doesn’t it?

But it’s a sad fact:  Kids who don’t conform — who aren’t quiet and well prepared every day and willing to raise their hands and take their turns and walk in straight lines — can become outcasts in our buildings pretty darn quickly.

I asked Stephen if he remembered the teachers who had such antipathy for him — and more importantly, if their actions had left him with a bad taste for schools.  He laughed.  Wanted to know WHICH teachers I was talking about.  Turns out that in Stephen’s mind, MOST teachers had a sense of antipathy for him!

And then he shared a piece of slam poetry with me describing his take on his time in classrooms of all shapes and sizes.  His argument:  School is mostly a joke.  A trial.  A test of conformity instead of creativity.  Some people commit to playing the game and they  “succeed” — if obediently producing and repeating thoughts, meeting other people’s expectations, and answering other people’s questions is what you mean by “being successful.”

Stephen wasn’t buying it.  Never was.

Here’s what he wrote*:

COPY AND PASTE

Who are you?

If you answered, they wouldn’t listen

You’re given your name and identification through the perpetual system

Where you’re not you, you don’t exist, and you have no personality

You’re nothing but a name on a piece of paper, a product of formality

For individuality is the fatality

Of conformity’s brutality, it’s the new reality

Where they don’t care about your past, present, future, and they don’t know your face

They just do their very frickin’ best to press copy and paste

To breed and grow you like the rest, what they believe works the best

But nevertheless this is why we get depressed

Because our creativity’s suppressed, our ingenuity oppressed

Because you’re not going anywhere if you don’t know how to test

Now, I must confess, this is a particular skillset that I possess, I study a little less, and get lucky when I guess, but nevertheless I still don’t believe we should attest our success

To our ability to retain and return the bullshit facts that we learn about things we don’t care about – and in ten years won’t know about – but I digress

Learn to love powerpoints, forget about hands-on

Turn on the radio, you’ll keep hearing the same damn song

The world’s foundation is falling, we have nothing to stand on

When everything you are lies in a bubbled-in scantron

This is our handicap, not just something to rant on

If they heard my words they’d laugh hand a tampon

Some of you might too, because you’ve already been stamped on

Our anthem is void, it’s now nothing but a phantom

Damn son, you may say, you seem pretty upset, I say

Upset? I’m frickin’ livid, given the world in which we’re livin’

Where we’re missin’ the frickin’ point, back practicing fast facts and cold religion

Where we’re told not to speak and only to listen,

Where teachers laugh at unique ideas, diss ‘em and dismiss them,

Where school isn’t a place of learning, it’s a clone factory and prison

Where we all get tested under the same curriculum

The rules have been set for you, and you better learn to stick to them

It simply makes me sick, we’re replicated and sent through the reticulum

You try to picket the system? Ridiculous, that’s it, your done

Just find the sum, write the essay, circle C, prepare for test day

Busy work and study dates, up until we graduate

But my friends, that’s not the end, only one cycle complete

Go back to school, go back to rules, apply, dry, rinse, repeat

And then get a job, stabilize, work every day from 9 to 5

Then go home to your kids and wife, don’t disagree, it causes fights

How has it ended up where we all live the same life?

It’s because we’re taught how to find x, and told not to ask y

I couldn’t stress how much potential we waste

When we highlight, right-click, and select copy and paste

When we generalize instead of work case by case

This will be the downfall of the human race

I mean, sure we’ll survive, maybe we’ll even evolve

But if you don’t live your own life, did you really live at all?

Learn your lesson, society, you’ve really dropped the ball

You can either pick yourself up, or continue to fall

But you’ve committed an unspeakable sin, murder in the first degree

For you killed individuality when you pressed “control c, control v”

Stephen told me that he’d written his poem for a college class.  Just something that he’d whipped up because he was tired of the parade of PowerPoint presentations that substitute as learning products in class after class, year after year.  He figured he’d mix things up a bit.  Challenge the norm and watch what happened next.

#awesome

As he recited it for me with all of the cadence and rhythm and emotion that defines a master poet and artist, I couldn’t help but wonder what his university classmates and professor thought when he stood in front of them “presenting” a product that they’d probably never seen before.  Did they respect the risk that he took?  Admire his willingness to stand out — or maybe even apart — from them?  Did they see his choice as foolish — why poetry when PowerPoint was good enough?  Did they knock points off of his grade because he didn’t do what was asked of him?

I also couldn’t help but wonder what the teachers who had tried to squeeze him into their boxes so many years ago would have thought of his poem.  Would they have finally seen him as a deep thinker?  A kid with opinions worth listening to?  A person of reason and rationale instead of as a person who just couldn’t follow the rules?   Or would they have been offended, realizing that he was poking fun at the traditional classrooms they’d created?

But most importantly, I couldn’t help to wonder if we are ever going to get to the point where our schools value something other than creating copy and paste kids.

That’s a question worth asking — and I’m so glad that Stephen is willing to ask it.

#wrestlewithTHATchat

 

*I’ve asked Stephen to record himself reading this for all y’all, Radical Nation.  Leave him a comment down below to let him know how much you would dig that.  I don’t think he realizes how powerful his words can be!


Related Radical Reads:

Can the Quirky Kid Thrive in Our Schools?

Too Many Kids ALREADY Hate School.

Are Grades Destroying My Six Year Old Kid?

 

How Uncomfortable Do Your Learning Spaces Make You Feel?

A really interesting email landed in my inbox this week.

It came from someone who described themselves as a long time follower of my Tweets and reader of my blog.  They said something that caught me a bit off guard:

“I want you to know that your Tweets about things like our current President’s policies and your posts about climate change or how transgender students and Muslims are becoming targets make me feel really uncomfortable.  I wish you’d just stick to sharing things that I can use in my classroom rather than sharing things that hint at your political viewpoints.”

I wasn’t TOO surprised to hear those thoughts.  In fact, I’ve had two other really close friends tell me that they thought I was making a mistake by tackling “those kind of issues” in my Tweets and my blog entries.  Both agreed that my posts were powerful and important and well-reasoned — but both also told me that I’d have WAY better luck with building an audience and finding potential consulting clients if I avoided anything that could be perceived as controversial.

And I really DO write a lot about topics that can be perceived as controversial.

Here’s the posts the author of the email that sparked this bit is talking about:

Climate Deniers Sending Sketchy Science to Every Public School Teacher

After _______, What’s Our Role in Promoting Peace?

Are YOU Standing Up for Tolerance?

Are Our Schools Safe Places for Kids Who are Different?

#Ferguson

As I tried to figure out how to reply to the email, a thousand different thoughts ran through my head.  

For me, writing about controversial issues is, in many ways, a professional obligation.  We DO have gay and Muslim and transgender kids in our classrooms and we DO live in a world where those kids are being bombarded by messages that they aren’t the equals of people who lead lives that fit into more traditional norms and social expectations.  By speaking out, I’m hoping to give language to every teacher and voice to EVERY kid.  And if you can’t get behind the notion that EVERY kid — especially those from groups that are being actively marginalized by our society — deserves to hear their teachers speaking out on their behalf, I’m not sure that we will ever be able to get along.

#sorry

#notsorry

I also thought about the fact that everything that I write and share on this blog and in my Twitterstream is for ME.  

I’m jazzed that other people learn from me and find the content that I share to be useful and helpful and energizing — but that’s not my primary goal.  My primary goal is to reflect — and reflection is personal.  My buddies are right:  If I’m trying to build a client base or a bigger audience, then I’d be far more filtered about what I share with you.  The needs and interests of my audience would take precedence over my own needs and interests.  But I’m not trying to use this space to build a client base or a bigger overall audience.  I’m using this space to wrestle with ideas that move me.

What does that mean for the people who DO follow me?  You’ve got a decision to make:  If reading posts every now and then about climate science or institutional racism or the responsibilities that teachers have to gay and transgender students rubs you the wrong way, mash the “unfollow” button.

That’s the beauty of the world we live in. You really CAN personalize the streams of information that are coming at you.  You really CAN filter out voices that bother you.

What you CAN’T do is control the content and/or ideas being shared by individual authors.  The power that creators have is choice over what they share.  The power that followers have is choice over who they follow.  As a creator, I’m comfortable with what I’m sharing because it moves ME deeply and that’s my goal for participating in these spaces.  If people decide to walk away from the content that I’m sharing because they don’t see value or purpose in it, I won’t be hurt.  That’s how information streams work in today’s day and age.

My final reply, though, took a different tack.  I decided to nudge my reader around the idea of “feeling comfortable.”  Here’s what I wrote:

So I’ve been thinking a lot about your email today and I want to push you for a minute.  You mentioned that my posts lately have made you feel uncomfortable.

Isn’t that a good thing?  Doesn’t the best learning and thinking and reflection happen when we feel uncomfortable?  Isn’t that why we try to push kids “out of their comfort zones?”

I get that sometimes my posts don’t solve an immediate problem for you.  I hear you when you say that what you most want out of your learning spaces are materials and/or ideas that you can implement tomorrow.  And if that’s your only goal, I’m probably not the right guy to follow.

But I’d encourage you to stick around and get comfortable being uncomfortable!  While it’s POSSIBLE to surround ourselves with friendly ideas that fix problems, I’m not sure that it’s intellectually healthy to do so.  Growth comes when we are forced to wrestle with ideas that we don’t agree with.  That’s impossible to do when we filter sources of discomfort straight out of our information streams.

So what about YOUR information streams?  Do they ever make you feel uncomfortable?

I’d argue that you are missing out if they don’t.

#trudatchat


Related Radical Reads:

In One Word, I Will Challenge.

Three Tips for Novice Bloggers.

Do We Value People, or Just the Content they Share?

 

 

 

 

Climate Deniers Sending Sketchy Science to EVERY Public School Science Teacher in America

A few weeks ago, I wrote a bit about a book filled with sketchy science titled  Why Scientists Disagree about Global Warming that showed up in my school mailbox.

My thinking was that the book had been dropped there by a parent, colleague or community member who was opposed to my argument that teaching science had become a form of political bloodsport.

But the truth is that my book came from a far scarier source: It was sent to me directly by the Heartland Institute — a group heavily funded by the fossil fuel industry that actively questions climate science.

And what’s even scarier is that the Heartland Institute has just started a campaign to send a copy of this book to EVERY science teacher America’s public schools.

The authors of the book and the leaders of the Heartland Institute want teachers to “consider the possibility” that climate science is not settled, which is simply not true.  They also argue that even if human activity is causing climate change, it “would probably not be harmful, because many areas of the world would benefit from or adjust to climate change.”

#sheeshchat

Now I know what you are thinking:  Why are you still writing about this, Bill?  We want you to point us to some really great tech tools or to share a few free lessons with us.  We don’t want political mumbo-jumbo about climate science.

Here’s why I’m still writing about it:  If you are a teacher or a school leader in a public school in America, these books are going to start to roll through your schoolhouse doors en masse over the next few weeks.

Some of your teachers will see right through the title and chuck their copy straight into the trash where it belongs.  But some will fail to fact check the source and fall for the fake science that fills its pages.  Then, they will start pushing the flawed notion that the science around climate change really isn’t settled yet to the kids sitting in your classrooms.

That ought to concern everyone in Radical Nation.  As my buddy Joe Henderson — who has learned a ton on this issue from his colleague Randall Curran — pointed out to me recently:

“1. A sound climate science education is so basic for understanding the world we live in that students are entitled to it.

2. Such an education is also a fundamental aspect of civic education, because it is foundational to the most consequential collective decision humanity has ever faced.”

So what should your next steps be?  

If you are a principal, my argument is that these books should never make it into the mailboxes of your classroom teachers.  Find them and filter them out.  Can you REALLY defend a decision to place a piece of political propaganda from a group funded by the fossil fuel industry in front of the people who are supposed to be educating the kids in your classrooms?

If you are not comfortable with filtering mail sent to your teachers, AT LEAST point your teachers to this PBS article detailing the Heartland Institute’s efforts or to my recent bit teasing out the truth about just who Heartland is.  While teachers should do this leg work on their own whether you provide them with context or not, the truth is that we are flat slammed with tasks to complete in any given day, so falling for pseudo-science that lands in our mailboxes is more common than you might think.

And if you aren’t comfortable getting involved, AT LEAST make sure that the people in your district who are responsible for science instruction and curricular decisions are aware of what’s going on.  My guess is that they will want to send out some kind of “Heads Up” email that reminds teachers of just what your curricula says about teaching climate change and/or start a conversation with department chairs about how to address these new books popping up on campuses across your county.

Whatever you do, do something.  We can’t just ignore a paid political attempt to influence the thinking of thousands of teachers around the most important issue facing our planet.

#trudatchat


Related Radical Reads:

When Did Teaching Science Become Political Bloodsport?

More on Teaching Science and Political Bloodsport.