Future is Now

THE FUTURE IS NOW

Remember to Help Yourself

An old adage in education says if you can make it to Thanksgiving break, you can make it to the end of the school year. We’ve passed that milestone, but things might not feel better. If so, you are not alone.

Most teachers are familiar with trauma-informed practices and are helping students learn strategies to support resilience. But what happens when you, too, are experiencing trauma?

This year, sub shortages, parent demands, and student struggles are compounding demands of a challenging job. Add in your own personal concerns, and it may be time to turn your trauma training inward.

Acknowledge your trauma and its effects. Perhaps you are less patient than normal, avoiding activities you used to enjoy, or struggling to make decisions. These are normal reactions.

Michigan New Educators (MiNE) Coordinator Anthony Barnes, a special education teacher in Kalamazoo, says he normally views his life as an arc with job challenges on one side and personal life on the other side, both meeting at a keystone of work-life balance. Now the keystone is starting to crumble, he says. Strategies such as mindfulness cannot compensate for current levels of pressure.

One theory about fostering resiliency is the Circle of Courage, drawn from Native American traditions, suggesting four elements of life balance. Consider focusing on these elements as a guide.

BELONGING—Surround yourself with people who support and understand you. Connect with MiNE to network with other early career educators. This group offers book studies and Affinity Groups where participants meet virtually to develop teaching practices and support each other.

MASTERY—You are good at your job and doing enough. People will always ask more of you, and this year it feels as if students need so much more support. But doing too much at your own expense won’t help in the long run. Know when to leave your work and return to it refreshed.

INDEPENDENCE—Understand that you are more than an educator. Choose to set and adhere to boundaries. If you commit to stop working at 5 p.m., then resist the urge to do one more thing when that time arrives. Read for enjoyment. Watch mindless television. Go for a walk and listen to a podcast. Anthony Barnes

Students need downtime to relax and regenerate. You do, too.

GENEROSITY—You are generous and giving to others. Remember to advocate for yourself as you do for students. Take a page from your accountant; she isn’t up at night worried about your taxes. Stop listening to a culture that values work above health. The calling you felt toward a meaningful career does not justify unsustainable hours and toxic stress. Be kind to yourself.

MiNE is here to help. Follow us on social media. Reach out to us to help you network with others. Join us for our Aspiring and Early Career Educator Conference next March 19, designed to support you while giving you practical tips for the classroom.

There is a reason that flight attendants on an airplane tell you to put on your own oxygen mask before you help others. You have to save yourself to save anyone else.

Find MiNE on social media @mineweducators, and look for AEM @aspiringedofmichigan.

Cold and gray: Don’t ignore the symptoms of SAD

With the holidays upon us, precious few daylight hours available and nothing but frigid temperatures and gray skies on the horizon, the winter blues can be hard to keep at bay. A still-raging pandemic doesn’t help matters.

If you’re feeling down, don’t be too quick to dismiss those feelings as simple moodiness. Seasonal Affective Disorder—also known as SAD—is a very real type of depression that many people experience during Michigan’s long winter months.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, symptoms of SAD include: ∎ Low energy ∎ Excessive tiredness ∎ Overeating ∎ Craving carbohydrates ∎ Weight gain ∎ Social withdrawal

Fight back against SAD by taking care of yourself—both mind and body. The sooner you take action to combat SAD, the more quickly you’ll feel like your old self again. Here are a few simple things you can do:

Exercise

Exercising releases endorphins— the chemicals in your brain that trigger positive feelings. Walking indoors or outdoors, riding a stationary bike or taking an exercise class can help improve your mood and boost your energy, while also helping to improve your overall health and fitness.

Light therapy

Experts say that a lack of natural light during the winter months is a contributing factor to SAD. Getting sunlight can be difficult since most of the daylight hours occur during the traditional workday. Using a light box is another way to bring some light into your life. Look for a light box that emits 10,000 lux

MESSA provides excellent mental health coverage for members and their medical dependents. If you have questions about your mental health coverage, call MESSA’s Member Service Center at 800-336-0013 or live chat via your MyMESSA account at messa.org or through the MESSA app. of cool-white fluorescent light and filters out all or most UV rays.

Socialize

Many people who experience depression tend to hunker down at home, especially during the cold winter months. Fight the urge to hibernate and instead make plans with family and friends—hit the sledding hill, go skiing or light up the fire pit in the backyard. Withdrawing from your social circle can compound your feelings of depression, so try to get out and connect with people you care about.

Talk to your doctor or a therapist

If you think you have SAD, talking to your doctor or a therapist can help. MESSA provides coverage for medically necessary mental health services, and you can even talk to a licensed therapist online from the comfort and privacy through MESSA’s partnership with Blue Cross Online Visits. Visit messa.org/OnlineVisits or download the Blue Cross Online Visits mobile app to get started.

In This Hero’s Journey, Educators Play Inspiring Roles

By Brenda Ortega MEA Voice Editor

Who is your audience? It’s a question every English teacher has posed, but now MEA member Rob Keast—an 18-year classroom veteran in Wyandotte—found himself answering it.

The former newspaper reporter collaborated on the memoir of Anthony Ianni, whose story is a powerful underdog tale in the vein of Rudy or Miracle on Ice. The pair’s book, published in September, appeals to many audiences, Keast said in an interview.

Sports fans of all ages. Folks in the autism community. Anyone looking for inspiration to overcome daunting obstacles and achieve big dreams.

“For a few publishers, that was a bit of a hang-up,” Keast said. “They didn’t know whether to market it as a basketball book or an autism book. And we said, ‘Well, why can’t it be both?’”

Centered: Autism, Basketball, and One Athlete’s Dreams (Red Lightning Books/Indiana University Press) is an unflinching first-person story of one boy’s experiences on the autism spectrum and his struggle for acceptance and belonging as he grew up.

It follows Ianni from a diagnosis of Pervasive Developmental Disorder at age four to becoming the first Division I college basketball player on the autism spectrum and earning a college degree.

The foreword is written by Tom Izzo, men’s basketball coach at Michigan State University where Ianni vowed as a child he would someday compete—even after doctors told his parents he would likely not play sports, attend college, or live independently after high school.

“I knew what autism was, but I had never dealt with anyone who had it,” Izzo writes. “You have those preconceived notions of, ‘He can’t do this,’ or ‘He can’t do that,’ but what I learned was that he could do anything.”

In all of those ways the book is both a captivating triumph of the human spirit and a testament to people behind the scenes who guided Ianni in his journey without a roadmap or manual for how to help him.

“We called the book Centered because that’s the position Anthony always played,” Keast said. “But the title is also a tribute to his parents and his teachers and coaches, who kept him centered and kept him moving, and showed him a way forward to all of the success he’s had.”

The book quotes from school records of special education assessments and plans, but the story is told through the eyes of Ianni who does not shrink from painful or embarrassing details.

Many educators contributed to Anthony’s achievements by treating him as an individual, not a diagnosis, Keast added. In an age when schools and teachers are sometimes made society’s scapegoats, he was happy to be part of telling a story of how educators are difference-makers, he said.

“I can’t tell you how many scenes we worked on together in the book where I felt proud to be a teacher. So many educators in this story did our profession proud.”

The Departure

Now 32, Ianni is a married father of two and a sought-after motivational speaker with the Michigan Office of Civil Rights. His Relentless Tour takes him to schools across the country, where he shares his story one assembly at a time in the hope of replacing bullying with kindness and respect.

“If I can inspire one person at every school to make a change or be the change they wish to see in their lives, then I’ve done my job,” Ianni said in an interview, recalling his first school appearance several years ago when a bully was inspired to apologize to his victim who was a student with autism.

His first goal for writing the book was to teach people about autism. But like Keast, Ianni enjoys the fact Middle school teacher Tom Hopper is one of the influential educators who is part of Ianni’s story, but he says he learned from Anthony as much as he taught him.

that his story broadly appeals to anyone who relishes seeing determination win over obstacles.

“I wanted to show people that, you know what? I’ve been knocked down a bunch of times in my life, but I never quit. I never gave up. I kept getting right back up and looking toward those obstacles and looking those challenges dead in their face.”

Anthony had it especially rough as a child in part because of his size, said his mother, Jamie Ianni—an educator, coach and MEA member who retired from a 23-year career as an Okemos math and physical education teacher in 2019.

By age three, he was tall enough to ride adult rides at Cedar Point, but he could dissolve into screaming emotional meltdowns over loud noises or a change in routine, Jamie said in an interview. He could recite lines from movies but not follow directions.

Anthony’s journey has taught her not to judge but to work hard at understanding what a child who may not be neurotypical is going through with that behavior, she added.

“A lot of times at school, they’re just trying to hold it together. They’re trying to be like everybody else, and when they come home they come unglued. Or in Anthony’s case, he’d come home, go in the den, shut the door, and sit there totally quiet because it had been so hard to keep it together for so long.”

Although few therapies existed at the time of Anthony’s diagnosis, his family was grounded by deep roots in education and sports. Grandfather Nick Ianni was a superintendent of

High school teacher Rachel Freeman-Baldwin was the first to tap Ianni for public speaking. Pictured with him (left) and holding his new memoir next to son Patrick.

Washtenaw Intermediate School District who fought for opportunities for special education students before Anthony was born.

His parents grew up in Michigan. Jamie played three sports at Adrian College, and Greg pitched on the MSU baseball team. They met working at Ohio University and moved to Okemos with four-year-old Anthony and older sister Allison in 1993 when Greg became an associate athletic director at MSU.

When Anthony was little, Jamie stayed home to work with him. She volunteered at his school early on and later took a part-time teaching role to “keep a finger on the pulse,” eventually becoming a respected volleyball coach, full-time teacher and advocate.

She turns accolades back at her colleagues, not only teachers but paraeducators, bus drivers, secretaries, custodians—all of the education professionals she asked to understand and help Anthony every day, many of whom are mentioned by name in the book.

“Everybody on the team is working their tails off to meet the different needs of every student in the building,” she said. “It is really an under-appreciated job. We couldn’t have gotten Anthony to the point where he is today without all of those people.”

The Initiation

One educator who appears in the book is MEA member Tom Hopper, a social studies teacher at Chippewa Middle School in Okemos, who first met Anthony while subbing in a sixth-grade physical education class 20 years ago. Hopper was supervising his group of students when he noticed one youngster who was six feet tall—towering 10 inches above his classmates—becoming upset.

Anthony could not understand why his teammates in a volleyball match didn’t hustle after the ball but instead laughed when it hit the ground. One of the expressions of Anthony’s autism was an inability to tolerate losing, and his emotions were starting to boil over.

“The difference in intensity was like Anthony was in the middle of game seven of the NBA Finals, and everyone else was playing Duck, Duck, Goose,” Hopper recalled in an interview.

He took the youngster aside. “I said something like, ‘I’m new here. Will you show me where the drinking fountain is?’ And we just went walking out of the gym, down the hall, because I knew he needed to get out of that situation just so he could process it.

“That’s when he let it all go; he was crying and saying, ‘What are they doing? Why don’t they want to win?’ And I quickly recognized this was a pretty special situation, so we just talked for a while.”

The next summer Hopper was hired for a permanent position at the school, and that fall he became Anthony’s seventh-grade teacher and eventually a close family friend.

Anthony found a home in Hopper’s classroom, which was outfitted with a couch and fun toys and trinkets. A burglar doll—complete with eye mask and 5 o’clock shadow—became the class stress ball. Squeezing it helped Anthony settle, so Hopper dropped it on his desk when the need arose.

One day, Hopper kept Anthony after class. The teacher must have heard kids teasing him about his height and obsession with MSU by calling him Jolly Green Giant, Ianni writes in the book.

The teacher said to ignore those kids. That’s what leaders do, and you’re a leader; the others just don’t know it yet. “That’s when Mr. Hopper became more than just my social studies teacher,” Ianni writes. “I saw him as my very own Mr. Feeny, from Boy Meets World; full of wisdom and warmth.

“I wasn’t convinced other students would ever follow me, but I trusted Mr. Hopper enough to believe that things would get better.”

The anecdote still draws emotion from Hopper. “He talks about what I did for him, but he has no idea how special he has been in my life and how it shaped me into a better teacher by watching him grow and

learn and thrive and overcome obstacle after obstacle after obstacle. Always with the attitude and drive that ‘I’m just going to be me. I got this.’”

The same sentiment was echoed by another MEA member whose influence is detailed in the book, high school English teacher Rachel Freeman-Baldwin, known by students as Miss Free. “I can honestly say he taught me more than I ever taught him in that I made a lot of mistakes when I was his teacher.”

One mistake happened in his freshman year when she forgot to warn Anthony of a planned fire drill during class. The sudden loud noise set off his emotions, and he couldn’t calm down, yet he was kind and forgiving after. “It was a horrible experience for him, and I haven’t made that mistake since.”

She had Anthony as a student again when he was a senior. By then she noted he was less physically awkward after working hard for years to learn basketball and hone his skills on the court. He was a leader on the school’s state title-contending varsity team and had fewer issues socially.

Freeman-Baldwin then invited him to speak about autism to her freshmen, who were reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, and needed help understanding the novel’s autistic narrator. She’s had him come back every year since then, except for last year during COVID.

“Every single time I cry because you hear his story, and you see how far he’s come, and you realize the experts never imagined he could be a public speaker. And he’s amazing. He does a beautiful job.”

That experience with his English teacher, coupled with an invitation four years later from then-Lieutenant Governor Brian Calley to speak at an Autism Alliance of Michigan gala, helped Ianni see public speaking as a future avenue for his life.

“When I texted Miss Freeman that I was narrating my audio book, she was so fired up,” Ianni said. “She was always the one wanting me to tell my story, saying, ‘Go on. You need to do this.’”

The Return

His path from struggles as a young child who couldn’t tolerate noise to becoming a two-time Big Ten Conference champion and member of MSU’s 2010 Final Four team has not followed a straight line.

Ianni spent two years playing basketball on a scholarship at A married father of two, Ianni knows coping strategies but will always have struggles he grew up with. “I’m OK with that, because that’s what makes me unique,” he says.

Grand Valley State University but transferred to MSU for a chance to walk on and play for the coach he admired all his life. He would go on to win the Spartans’ 2011 Tim Bograkos Walk-On award and the 2012 Unsung Player award.

His book details career ups and downs, including an argument with MSU teammate and star Draymond Green that eventually revealed the secret of his diagnosis and sealed their friendship; and an outburst with Izzo at a time when Ianni says he felt lost—and the coach brought him back.

He will always have autism. He occasionally misreads social cues. He doesn’t understand sarcasm or abstractions without help. When his children are loud, he sometimes must step away to settle himself.

“I have coping mechanisms, but I’m going to have those struggles forever,” he said. “I’m OK with that, because that’s what makes me unique. That’s what makes me Anthony Ianni.”

He has two pieces of advice for educators working with students on the autism spectrum: keep your expectations high, and stick to the Individualized Education Plan (IEP). He feels grateful to have benefited from so many educators who went above and beyond to help him succeed.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank all my teachers, because I’m a very slow learner and they did incredible things to help me adjust as a student. It showed me how incredible they are—not just as teachers, but how incredible they are as people as well.”

‘We are at a tipping point’

MEA's officers are worried about educators. Yet visits with members across the state have renewed their hope and vigor.

MEA President Paula Herbart, Vice President Chandra Madafferi, and Secretary-Treasurer Brett Smith separately have spent time visiting schools and field offices, meeting with members, observing in classrooms, listening. Herbart is convinced the status quo in many districts has become unsustainable.

“We are at a tipping point,” she said. “You can only starve the system so much before it starts to collapse. We can’t continue to say to our educators, ‘We know it’s been the toughest year ever; now here’s four more things for you to do.’”

Herbart has heard similar concerns everywhere. More difficult behaviors from students. Folks stretched thin by unfilled positions and no subs. Bus drivers with extra routes and fuller buses. Paraeducators and teachers filling gaps. Not enough time or resources to address students’ mental health struggles.

“We have amazing educators of all kinds in this state, with phenomenal skills and talents and caring hearts, who give so much and then find ways to keep going. They’re also activists, willing to stand up and say, ‘We can’t do one more thing. This is what we need, right now, or things will not get better.’

MEA staff work with leaders to deliver those messages at bargaining tables across Michigan, Herbart said. “We have to—number one—get more people into this profession. Pay them livable wages. Give them breaks and planning time. And listen when they tell us what they need to do their jobs.”

Herbart is heartened by organizing happening across the state—adding new MEA members and new units in schools, colleges and universities—and by examples of solidarity making the news every day from union workers at Kellogg’s plants and John Deere factories, to hospitals, schools and universities.

Now with an influx of state and federal money to public schools, local unions must demand a seat at the table for educators as decisions are made about how to best spend those dollars. This fall’s travels included visiting students in Gwinn (above), striking workers in Battle Creek (below, left), and support professionals in Traverse City.

“I am telling our members’ stories every chance I get. But movements start at the grassroots. We need our members on the ground to speak up, to make connections, to hold informational pickets—to keep raising awareness—and MEA will stand with them and support them.” Herbart planned to continue school stops and hoped to schedule a joint visit with Michigan State Superintendent Michael Rice to hear from Lansing educators. Read more on pages 14-16.

Lansing Educators Rally for Public Education

By Brenda Ortega MEA Voice Editor

MEA member Mariah Gaither

had a challenging entry into her teaching career in 2020, having to adapt her secondary science curriculum for remote learners through the full school year in Lansing.

Now Gaither is working in-person and receiving an eye-opening lesson of her own: she’s discovering how much educators spend out-of-pocket to do their work.

That realization is one factor that brought the second-year Sexton High School teacher to a recent rush-hour rally in downtown Lansing.

“Science is a lot of hands-on stuff, and last week I did an experiment with my students where I had to pay for all the materials by myself because there was no budget for it,” she said. “We’re not provided enough resources to deliver our curriculum and help our students learn.

“We have microscopes that don’t work, scales that don’t work. We’re using lab kits from the 1990s. I don’t have books—I’m making the

Mariah Gaither curriculum and providing everything, and it’s very frustrating.”

Gaither was among more than 100 Lansing educators who waved signs in a dreary, cold rain to the sound of honking horns of support.

The educators were calling for more staff and resources to address students’ multifaceted needs, plus higher pay, greater attention to safety, and fair evaluations for educators who have stepped up amid the pandemic despite growing educator shortages for nearly two years.

“It affects the students,” said Sheila Nash, a special education teacher in the district for more than 30 years. “We can’t service the students as they should be serviced, and we are running on all cylinders all the time.”

School employees are being asked to fill gaps and do more with less, while feeling their concerns are ignored, said Lansing Schools Education Association President Chuck Alberts. Many are leaving for better-paying districts—or quitting the profession altogether—which is why it’s important for everyone to stand up and make some noise, he said of why LSEA held the event.

“We’d better start addressing these problems soon or we’re going to see even more of an exodus from Lansing and from this region.”

Staffing shortages affect every job classification, including teaching assistants such as Sharron Martin,

who has worked in the role for four years and said the lowest-paid school employees are being tapped to do more and more work.

“I’m out here in the freezing cold rain, fighting for our rights,” she said. “I’m here for a voice at the table, for higher pay—all of it.”

With the return of in-person school this year, the respect and acknowledgment that educators felt last year has evaporated at a time when they need it the most, said paraeducator Justine Sleight. “We need help in our schools and communities,” she said. “We need to work together.”

Second-year teacher Alex Traverso, a math teacher at Sexton High School, said he’s been challenged by having to do additional unpaid tasks because of staffing shortages, including adapting all of his in-person lessons for fully remote learners.

“We only have 80 minutes of planning every other day to do all of our lessons for in-person and virtual kids—plus grading and all of the other responsibilities of teaching,” Traverso said. “We keep getting asked to do more and more and more, but we’re given less and less.”

Many at the rally pointed to increases in daily pay for substitutes that have eclipsed what classroom teachers make per hour or day. In some buildings, the daily rate for subs has risen to $300—which would amount to $54,000 over a year—while starting teacher pay is $41,000.

“It starts to feel like they don’t want us to stick around,” said Cat

Cat Weaver Tessa Shaw Robin Smith

Weaver, a 22-year veteran of the district who has been shifted into a seventh-grade teaching position from a lead teacher role to cover one of eight unfilled teaching jobs in her building alone.

Educators deserve higher pay for the amount of work they do— including working through their prep hours on a regular basis—agreed second-year teacher Tessa Shaw, who noted that she and most other new teachers work second jobs on top of a heavy school workload that goes beyond time with students during the school day.

“It’s becoming a norm for teachers to have side hustles, even though this is the career we chose and went to school for,” Shaw said. “It doesn’t feel like we are valued.”

One of the sticking points for Robin Smith, a 17-year district employee and MEA member, has been a combination of factors that continue to add up: more work, higher expectations, pay that doesn’t keep pace, and unfair evaluations.

“There’s so much more being placed on the evaluation tool—like student test scores becoming a bigger part of our evaluations—factors that we as educators can’t control,”

Jaynean Cornelius Smith said. “We can’t control who walks through our doors or what happens to students outside of our schools. It’s just not fair.”

Amid all of the turbulence in the world, paraeducator Jaynean Cornelius turned out for the rally to urge the community to come together for safety for the sake of the kids, so students can remain safely in-person where they learn best.

“It’s been a year and a half, and our numbers are still spiking because people aren’t getting on board,” she said. “Whether it’s wearing a mask or getting vaccinated, this is our new normal for right now, and everyone needs to do what they need to do.”

A shared concern for students and the profession unites educators and union members who must come together now to press for needed changes, said MEA Executive Director Mike Shoudy, who turned out and drew inspiration from the rally.

“It’s been an incredible two years of hardship and frustration, and as a society we’ve got to get back to supporting our kids and supporting institutions like public education,” he said. “At the local level, we need to keep raising our voices like this and be advocates and activists for change.”