Nethui, Trolls and the time I swore at a judge.

I missed Nethui's second day because Real Life intervened (I regret nothing) but today I was back with a hiss and a roar and WHAT a day to be roaring.

There's a lot I could discuss about the various workshops I attended and the wonderful people I met (and the reuben sandwich I ate at Federal Deli- I could talk that up for a long time) but instead I'll skip right to the meat. Enter the trolls.

Seriously. You owe it to yourself.

I wasn't even going to go to the session on Trolling. I wanted to keep this as professional development, so after an excellent session on gender issues I found myself in a session on education that somehow managed to be talking about everything other than what I was interested in, and after twenty minutes of reading the twitterfeed from the troll room I made my excuses and left.

#nethuitrolls is ANY trolling ok in spaces where people w/o privilege are discussing how privilege affects them? Classic e.g: #notallmen
— Zoe Deans (@zoedeans) July 11, 2014

You know when you walk into something late and you can hear pretty much every word that's already been said, just from the atmosphere in the room? NZ4 at Skycity had that. It was an oppressive heaviness in the air that felt like walking into a wall. I took a seat at the back and got listening, a huge double screen showing the twitterfeed in real time.

The conversation was fast-moving and had a snark-factor that made it clear that the people in the room who didn't take trolling seriously were being louder than the ones who do. 

#NetHuiTrolls the privilege thing was a bait joke. nice to see you misunderstand.
— gtx5 (@gtx_five) July 11, 2014

The feed and the spoken words were not matching up, much to the obvious discomfort of the facilitator who was battling hard against a weirdly hostile group. 

@djhdcj in my experience humour rarely disrupts. It enhances. A temporary diversion is different to a route change #nethuitrolls
— David Farrar (@dpfdpf) July 11, 2014

Not at #nethui but damn if it doesn't sound like the #nethuitrolls discussion is avoiding the actual harm caused to marginalized groups
— Stephanie Rodgers (@stephanierodgrs) July 11, 2014

It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a safe space. I gave up on being nice and took the mic after a couple of comfy-looking white guys agreed with each other on the joys of playing "Devil's advocate". It was time to stand up.

I'm not going to repeat myself verbatim, because too adrenalined, too fast-speaking, but my point was this, once I'd told them to stick their "Devil's advocacy up your arse"

If you are in a position of privilege, you are arguing purely from an intellectual standpoint. You can be as difficult and contrary as you like because at the end of the discussion, you have not been directly affected. But the person you're arguing against? It's not just an intellectual discussion. It is a judgement on who they are. It goes to the core of their being. These discussions are triggering. They are emotional. They are draining. And for you to joke about the joys of devilish advocacy shows your lack of empathy and understanding of the issues that you are advocating against. That's what trolling is to us. It's an attack on our selfhood, our experiences. And you should knock it the hell off.

'Devils advocate may be intellectual curiosity for those privileged, but for the marginalised it is our lives' #nethuitrolls #nethui
— Jevon Wright (@soundasleep) July 11, 2014

 

Consider: for many of us, your “troll” behaviour model mirrors our experience with abuse. No boundary respect #NetHuiTrolls
— Nat ☔️ (@NatDudley) July 11, 2014

 There was a bit more to it. I got personal. I talked about me. I  got a round of applause though, and there seemed to be a shift in mood. A swing away from the self-congratulatory types and not before time. I thought I was done, and started thinking about how I was going to write this down.

Then THIS GUY happened. Old white man, a few rows in front, who trotted out....

"Maybe it's just my generation, but in my opinion "Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me"...."

If I'd stood up harder I'd have literally hit the roof instead of just figuratively. Mic in hand, already switched on.....

"With all due respect I think your opinion is horseshit."

I COULD HAVE MIC DROPPED RIGHT THERE AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AWESOME YOU GUYS. But instead I went all-out. Again, not verbatim, but....

Saying that words have no power to damage is to disregard the experiences of marginalised, oppressed and abused people of every age, gender and colour. It disregards the huge emotional, mental and social damage done by verbal abuse in relationships, the classroom, the street. Ask many victims of domestic violence and they will tell you that the bruises will heal but the put-downs, the erosion of self-esteem, the insults take years, a lifetime even, to recover from. Some never do. Children attempt suicide over "just words". To sit there and tell this room that words have no power shows the casualness and disregard with which you clearly use yours.

I sat down, heart going like I'd collapsed over the finish line to some race I didn't know I was running. Mercifully, the time bell went and we were done.

That whole sticks & stones thing is bollocks. Words cut like knives. #nethuitrolls
— nickcarman (@nicholascarman) July 11, 2014

"that's just my generation", old white guy? You betcha! #NetHuiTrolls
— Hadyn Green (@hadyngreen) July 11, 2014

Sticks and stones analogy was distressing on it's own. But it came from a judge. That's terrifying. #nethui #nethuitrolls
— Capital K (@Styla73) July 11, 2014

 I felt like I'd shrunk. Like I'd yelled into space and I was waiting for space to yell back, to tell me to shut the hell up. I was waiting for violence, I now realise. Curled up against the punishment for arguing with my societal "betters". It's hard to shrug off that feeling you shouldn't argue in public, even when you're sure you're right. It's still hard.

"....and you didn't even say "Your honour""

What I got was more shoulder-pats, thank yous and affirmations of my words than I had ever thought I deserved. My phone went bananas as people messaged me with thumbs-ups and likes and positivity. The twitterfeed petered out, a few critical of my language (yeah, I could have been more polite, but it's hard being the one always having to take the high ground in order to be heard),  lots of support from others. I decamped to a nearby cafe for a sandwich and a debrief with a couple of wonderful, engaging people from my many nights on twitter talking about these things. It was there that I found out that Mr. Sticks and Stones was in fact Judge David Harvey, international expert on online legal issues. And I called him out in front of a packed room with an international live stream. There's something you don't get to do every day.

Interesting that so many women felt uncomfortable commenting out loud -our experience was diminished #NetHuiTrolls
— Nat ☔️ (@NatDudley) July 11, 2014

 I'm still processing how I feel about all this. Recently, I have felt safe enough and found the courage to speak out about issues of violence against women, politics and abuse both online and in real life platforms and it has been one of the most rewarding, though challenging, things I have ever done. I have had to come out as a victim of abuse, of assault, to people who see arguing the personal experience of others as a fun thing to do of an evening. I have laid myself bare in public in an attempt to make people see the culture we really live in, as opposed to the one we kid ourselves we inhabit. I speak out because I have met too many people who are never heard, never believed, never given any chance to talk without interruption and if through throwing myself out like this I can force out some space for other people to speak freely and tell their stories then the trolling, the insults and the dismissal will have been worth it.

So Matt Bellamy is me, and the hole is Twitter. Every. Damn. Day.

As ever, I like to do more than just reflect but move things forward. If you were there, if you were following, if you're just reading this for whatever reason, then please, please bear in mind the following. It'd be great.

• The person talking about their personal experience, especially if it is unpleasant, is doing so for a reason. It is not easy to relate these experiences, especially in public. Please listen with respect and without interruption. Do not press for more details, interject or object. 
• Like playing "Devil's Advocate"? Think about the position you are arguing for. Who are you arguing against? Why do you feel the need to do that? If you are DAing with someone who's clearly uncomfortable with your line of argument, knock it the hell off. One man who read and commented extremely negatively on my article on rape culture admitted he wasn't interested in the issue of partner violence at all, he just wanted "to make a point". Not interested in the topic? Then listen or bugger off. 
• Just because a topic is being discussed does not mean another issues does not exist. Talking about violence against women DOES NOT mean that those discussing it are saying partner violence against men does not exist, or that partner violence does not exist in GLBT relationships. It just means that violence against women is being discussed. Don't want to discuss it? Go away. Want to talk about the violence men suffer? THAT'S A DIFFERENT (if related) CONVERSATION. 
• When you interject a conversation about minority issues with "what about the men/white people/straight people" then you actually just need to go away as you are trolling and you know it
• It is NOT the job of the people having the conversation to educate you. Don't understand something? Google it for goodness' sake. In the time it takes for you to derail the conversation with your questions, you'd have found it out yourself already. 

I'm a white person so I have that privilege. I confess that there have been times when a person of colour has made a statement about white people and I have felt that rush of "But I'm not like that!" I've had to work to keep my damn mouth shut. It's hard to confront the negativity with which the group(s) you belong to are viewed by others who don't have your privilege, but if you want to be a decent person you have to deal with that discomfort and learn from it. Compared to living in fear of ridicule, hate and violence I'd say you/me get off extremely lightly. It's the least we can do to shut the hell up and listen instead of just listening to ourselves tell everyone else there is no problem.

If we're ever going to fix the ills we live with, we first have to acknowledge they exist.

Thanks to everyone who supported me to speak out today, and every day. You're all pretty amazing.

Nethui Day One: The Youth Forum

For the rest of the week I'll be at Nethui 2014, a huge conference addressing the internet and pretty much everything to do with it that isn't cat GIFs (OK, there are some of those as well). I'm here because twitter told me to and I was curious about meeting some of the authors behind the 140-character snippets that keep me from doing more productive things with my time.

The first day had a forum around young people and the internet and I wound up spending my entire time there. It's been a fascinating experience, sharing my ideas as an educator with people who come from an absolute galaxy of backgrounds and sectors. I've spent most of the day with some other teachers who are keen enough that they also gave up their holidays and money to attend, Youthline, and the IT sector (only teachers call it ICT. For shame)

Use of social media as an educational tool- how can we get schools to see SM as a positive force? #nethui Youthforum
— Roz S-P (@IrnBruja) July 8, 2014

The key ideas that have fallen out of the tree for me to take away and reflect on aren't anything new, but it's been fascinating and sometimes challenging to bounce them off others who've not been a classroom since they were 16.

Anonymity Vs digital presence: There's a real drive to keep things anonymous on the internet. I don't use my real surname on facebook or twitter, I mention no locations or dates. But in doing so, are we creating an artificial division between our offline and online presence? Why this need to hide our names from what for many people are an integral part of their everyday lives? In creating this division are we giving people licence to be abusive, to troll, because it divorces the online from the offline? I've often thought about "outing" myself on twitter and on here, but I'm not quite ready to make that step. It's an interesting idea.

Our notes on #health, #cyberbullying at #nethui. #yesallwomen #notallmen @ SKYCITY Auckland http://t.co/EOlp6F5b2K
— Roz S-P (@IrnBruja) July 9, 2014

21st Century learning and the "real world": A lot of the discussion was around improving digital literacy in schools and giving young people the skills to navigate social media, as well as "futureproofing" education. This was where I got all hand-wavy and noisy because if there's one thing I struggle with, it's the idea of teaching in a 21st century learning environment, where I'm expected to grow young people into critical thinkers who learn in an authentic and relevant context, and yet these kids will stand or fall based on their results in an exam that wouldn't sound out of place in a Dickens novel.

"When was the last time you had to sit down and handwrite anything for three hours? That's medieval." @IrnBruja dropping truthbombs. #nethui
— Megan Whelan (@meganjwhelan) July 9, 2014

This got very interesting in the afternoon as the discussion of "futureproofing" young people to be prepared for jobs we can't even think of came up. Myself and other teachers in the room made a strong case that we need to move away from content-based learning towards skills/thinking based learning and giving young people the tools to learn whatever they need or want to. Then came a discussion about "core subjects" and asking if programming should be compulsory.

The idea of compulsory core subjects defeats the idea of remodelling education to meet the future #nethui
— Madeline King (@MaddyKing44) July 9, 2014

 This gave rise to a bit of an interesting discussion at our table as there was a strong argument put forward that programming absolutely needs to be included, with the counter-argument that we need less standardised subjects, not more. It was an interesting discussion and then this tweet from someone in the room pinged up:
 

The disconnect between the pace at which jobs are changing and the views of educators, is terrifying me. #nethui
— Nat ☔️ (@NatDudley) July 9, 2014

 Now I appreciate that a tweet is a tweet but this bothered me. I'm not an IT professional. I know my way around a laptop, I know how to use the internet and I like to think I'm a reasonable person online. But I would never claim to know the ins and out of the IT industry, not even close. There seems to be a misconception that teachers are expected to be experts in every field that they move in, even though we as educators teach our students that it's OK to not know things if you're willing to learn. In fact, that's why I'm spending my holidays here! It made me reflect on how teachers are viewed and what we can do to change that view. It's easy as a teacher to forget that the real world/chalkface gap works both ways.


Lots to take away from today, tomorrow I am speaking at the morning hui to the entire conference about what we discussed at the youth forum. Bring it.

ADDITIONAL: Nat and I actually talked about this later, and the need for teachers to upskill in what are the needs of all industries these days, not just IT. It's a valid, if troubling point and it's made me think about just how institutionalised I have become since leaving the private sector over nine(!) years ago. It doesn't help that we as teachers find it difficult to listen to constructive criticism as we're so used to criticism of the destructive kind. It's also my fault for taking a generic comment a bit personally!

So thanks to Nat for engaging with me on this, one of the things I have loved about Nethui was the opportunity for open discussion in a way that remained respectful and positive even when viewpoints differed or misunderstandings were had.

Imagine if we could do that everywhere...

We need to talk about weapons

Today has been an upsetting one for education and south Auckland.

This morning two pre-teens at a private school got in a fight that left one of them in intensive care with stab wounds from a pair of scissors. The afternoon, two teenagers at a large south Auckland campus were also treated for stab wounds in an incident police say is unrelated to this morning's violence.

I come from a culture where knife crime is endemic. Social workers used to come into classes I taught to talk to 14 year olds about the consequences of carrying knives. In my home town, nearly all of my male peers have been at least threatened with a blade, some on multiple occasions. The penalties for carrying knives in public without good reason are severe. In the classroom, knives for practical use were unheard of, and any dissection required hawk-like vigilance.

Weapons amnesty, Glasgow.

So when I came to New Zealand to find sharp knives delivered with science practical orders, scissors left out in classrooms, and kids allowed to bring their own little retractable blades for cutting paper, I didn't know where to put myself. It seemed a recipe for disaster and led to some amusing-in-retrospect showdowns between myself and bemused kids. Over time I've come to appreciate the higher trust we have in our children and the behaviour with which our young people repay that trust.
Today's incidents have therefore left me rather shaken, my cosy antipodean worldview turned, in more ways than one, upside down. We teachers strive to make our schools safe havens for our young people, in some cases the only safe haven they have. Schools in NZ lack the security fencing, weapons-amnesty bins and police officers that I've seen in some schools in London and elsewhere, because we trust that our schools are free from weapons and provide an environment where young people feel safe enough not to need one.

Ad campaigns you never want to see.

There is a huge discussion that needs to happen now in schools and communities about whether this idyll is real or if there's been something fundamental that we've missed. We need to think and talk and discuss with our communities and whanau why these young people decided to settle their arguments with weapons rather than words. We need to ask where this need to arm themselves came from, why their anger has become such that it needs a sharp edge. It needs to be a discussion that is sensitive to the needs of the cultures of those communities, whilst not becoming another lazy "That's just south Auckland for you" hard pass. We can't afford to pass it off as isolated coincidence, and we can't afford to turn our noses up because of the postcode these schools find themselves in.

Am I overreacting? Possibly, but I'd rather schools and communities took today as a chance to have some real talk and thought about how they can support their young men and women, than end up with our own version of the London fortress schools.

Not for your convenience: Professional Development, Holidays, and what schools are actually for

For those of you who haven't met him, let me introduce you to the English shadow spokesman for education, Tristram Hunt (a man who, as my UK counterpart once said, is in grave danger of becoming his own rhyming slang). Now young Tristram has one job as long as his party are not in power, and that job is to not act like the current education minister, a bottom-feeding polyp by name of Michael Gove. That's it. Don't be like the most hated man in education, and you'll find that a huge voting block swings behind you.

"Yummy mummies love Sherlock, don't they?"

So, what has the young Hunt done? He's looked at a labour sector rife with teachers suffering from stress and long hours, of children under intense pressure to pass archaic and confusing assessments, at the dismantling of public education in favour of "free" schools, and decided to take a swipe at.....

Professional Development.

Parents, according to this man who has clearly never developed in any way, let alone professionally, are "baffled" about why a group of postgraduates in a professional career may occasionally need time for staff training. This pronouncement was backed by a handwringing helicopter spokesmum from website Netmums (note, not mumsnet, which carries more political clout than most print newspapers) who said that staff-only days are "Awkward" for parents (note, not caregivers. If you're not the parent then clearly you don't need representation at this level). She went on to say that she was "suspicious" of the timing of staff only days, as they are usually after holidays or weekends.

We do so little work as it is, let's add in some extra days for skiving!

Where to start with this torrent of patronising bollocks?

Dear Netmums, real mums, politicians and journalists looking to give something else a kicking now Judith Collins and the Maori party are old hat: Schools do not exist for your convenience.

Schools are not office-hour holding pens so you don't need to pay for childcare for 40 weeks of the year. Teachers are not babysitters with diplomas whose sole role is to keep little Foccacia and Mumford out of your hair while you work on your career in marketing. The education system does not exist for your convenience.

Our role is to educate your child. To socialise them, to give them the skills they need to operate in the same society that you are busy working in. How well this is done is a discussion for another time, but that is at the core of what we do. In order for us to do that effectively, sometimes we need to have training to improve our performance. You don't stand outside your local opticians that's closed for staff training on Wednesday mornings, banging on the glass demanding that you either be let in or that they post up exactly what is happening in there, as it's "awkward" for you not to pick up some contact lens solution at that moment.

Of course, if working class kids were allowed to work, then all these inconveniences would disappear!

Same goes for holidays. You may be a successful 35 year old careerist who never gets tired ever, but your six year old, who is learning the fundamentals of reading, of becoming a person, does. They need that time out of class to be kids, to absorb and reflect on what they've learned over the previous eleven weeks. It's not always about your convenience, it's about (you guessed it) the needs of the children who are ultimately the most important people in all this, and incidentally the ones who are talked about the least.

Now I'm not saying that holidays and staff only days aren't a pain in the arse for caregivers. But to hear politicians promote resentment at teachers for wanting to improve their teaching, and education ministers attempt to legislate longer terms and hours to better suit working parents, shows just how little regard they hold teachers and the education system in. Perhaps instead of attacking teachers, netmums and their ilk need to consider the societal conditions that have led to them require so much childcare in the first place.

Powerless at the Chalkface

Teachers, don't we get a sweet deal. Our short hours. Our long holidays. Our glorified, overpaid babysitting job, when kids pretty much teach themselves all that mickey-mouse shit these days anyway, not like the real subjects kids used to learn. The odious nonsense about teaching, a career so singled-out for media scorn and political hacky-sacking, is so pervasive that we teachers even believe it ourselves. We buy in to the idea that we should be grateful to have our jobs, and wake up every morning with a smile on our faces and a song in our hearts, thankful that we have such a gentle, not-even-a-real-job career that pays enough that usually we only need the one job.

We look like this just before we burst into song, you know

As anyone who knows anything about human nature might surmise, this attitude causes problems when it butts up against the realities of the modern chalkface. We are told in the gaslighting style of an abusive partner that our jobs are easy, that we're slackers, that we're letting the side down. While this constant stream of ego-mashing abuse is whispered in our ears, we're given yet more chores to perform, given new rules often without being told fully what they are till they're broken, have targets set higher and further away than make sense or are feasible (because everyone can be above average, right?). Every so often, we are paraded in front of unfeeling strangers who judge us on nothing beyond a quick leer and a ticked box.

"The children seemed to act unnaturally when we were all in the room. Poor classroom management!"

All the while, we are told to say yes. To be compliant. Your student's parents can only make a 7pm meeting? Then you must say yes, and sit alone in a silent classroom for parents who may or may not come to a ten minute chat about results they've already seen. The government decides to completely change their focus so everything you've worked on creating and resourcing before is now useless? Smile, nod and get back to that drawing board, often late at night once your kids are in bed.

We are made to guilty for being human beings outside the classroom. A day off is not taken lightly, our sick days and illnesses carefully weighed up against the feeling of letting our classes and our colleagues down. Relief work is set late at night with splitting headaches or between frantic trips to the toilet, and often the decision is made to just go in anyway. I once broke my ankle and was frantically texting my relief for the next day as they wheeled me into X-ray. Even high on morphine the shame of taking a sick day with chores undone was too great.

"...and year 12 should do page....AAAAAARGH!"

We're denied time to to attend weddings, funerals, life events of those we love, because much as we try, sometimes real life and externally-set holidays do not always synchronise. We can be refused unpaid leave for no reason at all, despite our reasons being the most joyous, the most humanly valid. Hindu? No unpaid day at home with your family to prepare Diwali's feast for you, no matter how many of your colleagues offer to step up. Daughter arriving home for the first time in years? Hope that flight gets in outside of school hours or she'll be taking a taxi home while you try to concentrate on teaching 8C how to draw graphs.

Your ancient celebration of light is too foreign, no day off for you!

 In a world that increasingly seeks to divorce the demands of work from the basic human need to raise children, those who are told to raise them in your absence are treated with a level of professional and social disdain that makes it a wonder we're trusted with children at all. This discordant, manipulative relationship between teacher and system leaves us bewildered, exhausted, and ready not so much for divorce as a midnight flight to freedom.

"At least in the private sector we'll be considered hardworking!"

 After nearly a decade wielding a whiteboard marker, I am nearly done. Not with the profession, to which I have a burning desire to keep doing until I'm no longer enjoying the thrill of helping young people learn new things, but with the culture. I'm done with acting like my job is worth more than my mental wellbeing. I'm done with putting the capricious demands of ministers and committees ahead of the needs of the students I work with.

I'm done with saying yes.

Only white people get jobs? Representation in career advice

Today at work my students were investigating possible careers in science, technology, engineering and maths (STEM), something that's a bit of a buzzacronym in employment and political circles. The class of 14 year olds were taking the Career Quest questionnaire on the government's careers advice website. The questionnaire is not dissimilar to the old pencil-and-cross-out-the-answer careers advice sheet I did half a lifetime ago, though this one was all flash graphics and instant choose-your-own-future. Each of the 78 questions were on a separate web page can came with three photographs to illustrate the possible jobs the question was asking about. So far, so pretty.

Google image search "doctor" on first page. Photo description "Happy afro doctor portrait". Er.

I was talking to a group of girls who were taking the quiz when I noticed something. Every person in every photo was white. White man in hard hat. White women at computer. White person in labcoat. I asked the girls if they'd noticed any people in the photographs who weren't white. They said they hadn't, and I asked them to let me know when they did.

A few minutes later, this absolute gem of an observation was made.

"Miss, miss! I found a brown person! They're sitting being spoken to by a white person!"

Google image search "manager photo Asian". Guess what you get if you only use the first two words

The students were righteously concerned that in a quiz designed for young New Zealanders to choose a possible career path, people of colour did not seem to be represented in any of the possible careers. "Are we not supposed to have a career then miss?" was the half-joking question another asked me.

Having done the questionnaire myself, I did a little breakdown of representation. I tallied up the number of Asian (including Indian), Māori/Pasifika, and other people of colour actually carrying out a job. Customers, students and patients were not included. If I was in any doubt then I counted it as a positive ID. I appreciate that my labels are extremely broad and problematic in themselves but I beg understanding for the purposes of this quick and dirty research.

Google search "stock photo teacher". First page!

The results were depressing.

Of a total of 234 photographs in the quiz....

7 showed Asian people

16 showed Māori/Pasifika people

3 showed people of colour

There were more photos of inanimate objects than black people. 

No photos showing people with disabilities.

I am a forgiving sort and will assume that this whitewashing of the NZ workforce was the result of error, rather than a deliberate attempt to make it look like only white people get jobs. However, we live in a country where, according to the last census, three quarters of the country identify as white/pakeha, just under 15% as Māori and nearly 12% as Asian. Hardly proportional.

"Stock photos disabled". First photo showing a person in a wheelchair not being pushed by an able-bodied person. Or alone looking sad.

If you're reading this thinking "So what? It's a quiz on a website", then think about who it's aimed at. Think about the state-supported drip-feed that subtly reinforces that only white people are employable, that every kid who is thinking of their future sees on page after page the same stereotype.

I was going to write to careers NZ to point this out, but seeing as my pack of 14 year olds are keen to exercise their right to call this stuff out, I'm going to let them do it. They're bound to do a far better job than me anyway, after all, they're the ones not being represented....