Everyone's an expert

I enjoyed reading the link on Amy Figler Goings' FB wall entitled "What teachers really want to tell parents" (CNN.com). It did a nice job of detailing the frustration teachers face when confronted by parents who are forever rushing in to save their kids. It reminded me yet again how I got out of the profession just in time.

If I reacted to parents the way I used to I wouldn't last very long. At parent/teacher conferences I delighted in asking disgruntled parents where they got their degree in education. I remember one father was furious with me for requiring that my students leave me a personal voice mail if they were going to be absent just like I had to call in if I was going to be absent. The parent railed and railed, called me unreasonable, and finally asked me what would happen if all teachers required their students to leave a similar message. "Then I would be a damn fool not to," I shot back in an echo of Yossarian's refusal to fly more bombing missions. I finally said, "Look, we can go back and forth like this all night, but nothing will make me change my mind." He called me an asshole and stormed off to talk to the principal. Nothing came of it, I am happy to report. Nowadays I suspect I would be put on administrative leave pending an investigation for such a transgression. The Denver Post would probably pick up the story and I would serve as yet another example of evil teachers undermining the self-esteem of young people.

Toward the end of my career I was always being called on the carpet for my tactics. Of course that was during the reign of Dr. Treichler who always supported parents for fear that we would be sued. Roger Sykes, our post Treichler principal, was even worse. I remember one student whose parents decided before class even met that I was too harsh and demanding for their kid and asked to have her transferred to John Brovsky's CCB class immediately. Sykes, Brovsky, and I had a meeting where Sykes decided to make the transfer because he didn't want to deal with the parent who happened to be a biggie in the soccer community. I was outraged (outrage was my default mode back in those days) and said why don't we carry your thinking to its logical conclusion and just transfer all of my students right now? Sykes did not appreciate the truth in that comment and looked at me like I had lost my mind. Looking back, I have to admit that I was close to losing my mind on any number of occasions. Oh well.

But the thing is that everybody has become an expert lately. After presidential speeches, networks offer viewers a chance to ring in on their approval or disapproval of certain statements. Sports shows encourage viewers to second guess certain trades, or play calls, or cheerleaders' outfits, or uniform styles, you name it, and they broadcast the results of those instant polls as if they had some relevance. Call me insecure, but I think that the opinions of coaches and managers trump knee jerk reactions from suburban mancaves.

Don't get me wrong. I think Jim Tracy should play Seth Smith every day and I suspect that all those who think that Tim Tebow should start are wrong, but I don't get angry when Tracy ignores my advice. And if Tebow ends up starting instead of Orton, my life will go on. I will not call up some talk radio station where tired old jocks with pot bellies yell at and interrupt eachother and add to the fray.

This perceived right to have groundless opinions happens in other venues as well. The cool blue mustang with the red eyes at DIA is a source of constant controversy. It makes me smile every time I drive by it, but other people think it is a (GASP) devil horse and should be torn down. That's fine; they certainly have a right to their opinion. But many of them actually get angry about it and fire off letters to the editor and shun DIA whenever possible to use the airport in Colorado Springs instead. They not only believe they have the right to their opinions, but that the rest of us should bend to their will.

I love the new addition to the art museum. The view up the staircase in the atrium gives me the shivers and the museum's collection is glorified by the whole thing. It makes me proud to live in Denver. Other people are outraged by the place. It has too many weird nooks and crannies. What's up with the way the whole place sticks out like a sore thumb? To hear these people loudly opine on paper and on the airwaves one would think they won't be satisfied until we tear down the whole thing and consult them on a new design which they will have a right to veto. I love to have strong opinions and I love to argue with people who have equally strong opinions, but ultimately I realize that my opinion just doesn't matter. What do I know from architecture?

I love the book Heat by Bill Buford. Buford, a food writer for The New Times, takes a job in Mario Batali's kitchen at Babbo to see what it is like to be on the line of a great restaurant under the thumb of a great and demanding chef. It's damn hard, he concludes. But in the process he travels to Italy to see the origins of the industry up close and in his trip he meets the world's most famous and presumably best butcher, an iconoclastic sort with a temperament something like the soup nazi on Seinfeld. The great thing about the butcher and the reason I am sticking this digression into the middle of this rant, is that the butcher refuses to cater to his customers. Not only does he disagree with the idea that the customer is always right, he asserts that the customer is almost always wrong. When an unwary customer walks into his shop an asks for a particular piece of beef that is in fact out of season, the butcher will refuse to fill the order and tells the poor slob to get out of his store.

This happens all the time. Grocers will stock tomatoes in February because their customers are clueless enough to want them at that time even though they have no taste. Or people will sit down at a great restaurant and order a steak well done and expect the chef to prepare it that way. Or they will walk into a restaurant and ask for a salt shaker or, even worse, a bottle of catsup. A restaurateur with integrity should chase people like that out of his joint with a meat cleaver.

We are not experts at everything. Sometimes our opinions are just plain stupid. I think we should put ourselves into the hands of the real experts and maybe we might learn something. Of course, that is just my opinion.