A Different Kind of Refusal

There are a hundred articles I could be writing about tonight. I am itching to write again and take a rest from trying to hold Commissioner Hespe accountable for walking out on the public hearing. Yet somehow I just can’t seem to let it go.

My obsession with getting my letter out there in the public eye led me to delusions of grandeur. My mother called after reading it to express her concern about me taking over the job as the NJ State Commissioner of Education. She wanted to know if I would move to Trenton and who would take care of the kids. I chuckled at her for taking me so seriously, but then I found myself falling deeply in love with the “What if”.

What if NJ had an Education Commissioner that wasn’t a politician?

What if I could actually hold a public hearing and listen to people’s concerns and respond thoughtfully and respectfully to their testimonies? What if I took their concerns to heart and fought to represent them properly to the media and in turn to the Governor?

What if I could make research and testimony-based suggestions about how education could be improved?

What if I had the ear of the media and I could say more than what the special interests like Pearson and Google want me to?

So many what if’s. Then, the Washington Post sent me a rejection email that was only two sentences long. Yet I had to read those two short sentences five times just to understand that they did not want to publish my open letter to David Hespe. I thought for sure they were mistaken. But again it was like testifying in front of the Study Commission, you can have all of the passion and sound reasoning in the world… it really doesn’t matter.

Hespe walks out of the public hearing without an explanation and doesn’t return nor apologize. Then, two days later Hespe gets a piece published in the Star Ledger. Hespe mentions nothing about portion of the testimonies he heard, and instead spews more pro-PARCC rhetoric.

What do I get? A rejection email from the Washington Post and silence from all of the other news outlets I contact. Even though I am the one with four kids in public school. I am the one with 12 years of teaching experience. I am the one who drove to Camden even though a pipe broke in my house. I am the one who stays up until all hours of the night reading, researching and writing to stop these tests that will harm my children, not his.

It doesn’t matter.

He is the one with the title.

I guess it was kind of silly of me to think I would score publication on my first real try. I guess those who say I am an idealist are right. I stood at my kitchen sink washing some of the never-ending tower of dirty dishes and tears started to fall from my eyes. I could hardly believe myself. I really thought that that letter would go viral and the people of NJ would rally behind me as the new Commissioner. I really thought that finally I would break through and make a real difference in the lives of our collective children.

I felt the dream puncture and deflate like a balloon.

Harlem

BY LANGSTON HUGHES

What happens to a dream deferred?
      Does it dry up
      like a raisin in the sun?
      Or fester like a sore—
      And then run?
      Does it stink like rotten meat?
      Or crust and sugar over—
      like a syrupy sweet?
      Maybe it just sags
      like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

So, do I just let it go? Or do I start a petition to take over as Commissioner or at least become the new head of the Study Commission? What do you think?

All hope is not lost. My letter has over 3,300 views already. Many have sent messages or left comments in support of my letter. A reporter from local paper in Northern Jersey contacted me to say she wanted to publish it. I could keep emailing, tweeting, trying.

I could refuse to believe that people like me don’t matter. I could refuse to allow an appointed official act as if he is above those who pay his salary. I could refuse to allow people to make decisions for our children that do not listen to research, parents, teachers, administrators, board members, or the children themselves.

What do you think I should do?

Paige Vaccaro Testifying before Hespe and the Study Commission photo credit: kdphotography67.com

Paige Vaccaro testifying before Hespe and the Study Commission.
photo credit: kdphotography67.com

9 thoughts on “A Different Kind of Refusal

  1. India Mariconda says:

    I think it would be awesome if you were able to get into a position like that. I think you should try to get something published. So many people share your views and so many kids would benefit from having someone like you fighting for them!

    Like

  2. maryann says:

    When fueled by doing what’s genuinely best for kids….let em hear your roar!

    Like

  3. mboucher75 says:

    When fueled by doing what’s genuinely best for kids…let em hear you roar!

    Like

  4. Cheryl says:

    go get em. I being a single mom appreciate you fighting on behalf of me for my children when I have to work and am unable to do so.

    Like

  5. Ruth Cohen says:

    Don’t stop believing. Don’t stop doing what you are doing. If we all stop our “what ifs” NOTHING WILL CHANGE and we are doomed to allowing those who have no true investment in our children directing who they turn out to be! I appreciate your words and your efforts. I appreciate that your “what ifs” make much bigger ripples in the pond than mine do, but they also make mine bigger too. I would love to see your piece published EVERYWHERE. It SHOULD be, especially if Hespe’s drivel is published. There have to be media folks out there that are willing to amplify your voice. OUR voice. Thank you again for shouting from the rooftops. Soon, all of our collective shouts will be heard and heeded. Not a “what if” but a “when”.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Donna says:

    Never stop doing and saying what you know is right. You are being heard even though you feel like your words are falling on deaf ears.. The world needs more like you! Continue to fight the good fight.

    Liked by 1 person

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