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Friday, Aug. 1, 2014

Poor Little Minority Students

Posted Wednesday, October 12, 2011, at 11:11 AM

So the report from the state said that the Los Angeles Unified School District isn't properly servicing their black and English language learners. They obviously haven't stepped foot on a campus since "Leave it to Beaver" aired on television. For here, my friends, is what happens on the average campus in that beleaguered district, and probably most others, too, I'd be willing to bet.

Thirty seconds to the bell, the kids are still standing outside the room and are herded to classes that they don't want to go to. Arriving with only the basics, they show up with the clothes on their backs, an iPod or cellphone and a wallet. The girls carry enough cosmetics to open a counter at Sacks. Any pencils books, papers and supplies are MIA and absent. And heaven help the teacher who suggests that the little darlings bring them, because this is part of their "free and appropriate public education." Fearing being branded as a racist, the teacher hands out the supplies and asks the kids to start the lesson on the board. The kids continue to talk, a few girls apply lipstick and mascara and otherwise primp, a spitball flies across the room, and the kids pull out their cell phones and start texting like crazy. And that is on one of the better days, too.

When report cards come out, many teachers who have the utter nerve, audacity and gall to give failing grades will promptly be dealt with by the administration or parents who show up at school beating their breasts and claiming that the teacher failed their little dumpling because she does not like him, which by that point, may be true. And that is at the end of the average semester.

The missing link in all this is that the same opportunities, classes and homework assignments are open to all, but the kids (including the black kids and the English language learners) know that they don't have to do anything aside from waiting for those in charge to cater to their whims while learning to be culturally sensitive. We all have culture. I had my culture, too, but if I ever would have had the utter nerve, audacity and gall to behave like many of these kids do, I would have been crowned at home so thoroughly I would have been sipping my lunch through a straw for the next five years.



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I'm Not Crazy -- It's Them
Gail-Tzipporah Saunders
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Behold, I, like many others before me, come forth with a new blog. Mine, however, starts off with posts about the joys and wonders of pepper spray then branches out to other maladies as well.
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