Raised by The Muppets

My first lesson in equality vs. Equity occurred when I was five years old. My parents made the rule that I was not allowed to watch television past 7 PM on school nights.

My older brother was a procrastinator. He did not enjoy school and, as a result, would put off doing his homework until the last minute. My parents made the “TV Rule” so that he would be forced to do his homework.

I, on the other hand, LOVED school and was highly motivated and self-directed. I would complete my homework as soon as I got home. This meant that by the time we were done with dinner, I would be done with my homework and ready to socialize with my family. But because of the “TV Rule,” I was out of luck.

The rule applied only to the kids in the house. My parents would hunker down to watch their favorite programs. Mom would watch shows like Murder She Wrote in the downstairs living room and Dad would be watching PBS’s Masterpiece Theatre on the tiny TV in the kitchen. But I was on my own. Not only was I not allowed to watch TV at night, I was not allowed to even be in the same room as a TV.  Which meant I was denied access to my parents. I tried to advocate for myself and explain why I thought the rule was unfair, but my words did not work.

But Saturday nights were my heaven. I planned ahead so that my Salisbury Steak TV dinner was cooked and cooled at the exact moment that The Muppet Show was beginning. I loved how the mashed potatoes, peas, and apple cobbler were all secure in their own sections. And I took the time to cook my meal in the oven- a soggy microwave meal was not good enough for my favorite event. I nourished my body with a HIGH quality cooked meal (from my little kid perspective), so that my heart and soul could soak in all of the lessons about how to be a human in this world. 

Kermit taught me about honesty, organization, and the effective strategy of creating systems to relieve anxiety. Fozzie demonstrated the power of humor to create connections.  Beaker fired up my lifelong interest in Communication Studies (he ONLY communicates with nonverbals and paraverbals and this has always amazed me!). Miss Piggy’s Reactive Attachment Disorder showed me how lonely it can be when you don’t own your stuff and blame everyone else for your troubles. Gonzo’s ability to own his weirdness raised my confidence. The Critics taught me how isolating judgment can be.

And I eagerly digested the lessons of the guest stars: John Denver helped the Muppets feel seen and valued, Big Bird raised their self worth, Chewbacca helped them to believe in themselves, Elton John stood up for the “underMuppet,” Gilda Radner helped them to laugh at themselves, and Linda Ronstadt preached kindness, love, and compassion. And I savored every single second. Just as I cherished every bite of my apple cobbler as the credits were rolling.

Even though my loyalty was with The Muppet Show Muppets, I learned from their Sesame Street cousins as well. Bert and Ernie taught me that it was possible to learn from people who were opposite from you. And I appreciated that they accepted the other Muppet for who he was. Cookie Monster made me feel unashamed for having a sweet tooth, and Oscar taught me that it is OK to be cranky sometimes. 

My church made an attempt at the same lessons, but then I would see congregation members (including some of my family members) be cruel to each other and to me. They were not following what the minister was teaching. But The Muppets were different: They learned and grew and practiced relational mindfulness by valuing relationships over ideas. They clearly and consistently cared more about other Muppets than they did about being right (and “winning”), and they built trust with each other by having their actions match their words.

Their lessons are the ones I pay forward: To celebrate self-worth; value all feelings; be curious instead of judgmental; own your stuff; laugh, play, and giggle with each other; be kind and compassionate; honor imperfections, and lead with love. When a spotlight was shined on everything in my life (as MN State Teacher of the Year), I re-learned the lessons I was taught by my childhood “teachers” and realized that I had a lot of areas to improve. 

Because my parents had so much unresolved trauma of their own, they did not have the skillset to teach me what I wanted to know/needed to learn in order to become a healthy human being. And their prioritizing of equality vs equity prevented us from having the opportunity to, at the very least, bond over the shows that they liked to watch. If they had chosen to employ equity with their children, it would have created more opportunities to connect and I would have felt like my needs mattered.

When Jim Henson died, I felt like I lost a parent. But his legacy and lessons live on in his Muppets and in every human who has ever watched his show. They are the reason I am an advocate for myself and for others. I will be forever grateful to have been raised by The Muppets. 

An Ally’s Guide to Supporting Advocacy

I have learned a great deal since I wrote and presented a TED-Ed talk about the importance of educators being advocates. I now realize, on a deeper level, how much we need both advocates AND allies in order to positively change our world. And I now realize that not everyone has the freedom and/or security to be an advocate. 

Growing up, my parents strongly believed that children should be seen but not heard. As a child, I was given the pejorative nickname “the mouth” because I did not ascribe to this adage. I had questions about everything, and I spoke up when things did not seem right or fair. My first action as an advocate resulted in getting beaten with a belt; I was approximately three years old and had questioned the fairness of a rule. Ever since, almost every single action of mine as an advocate has resulted in some sort of punishment. I have been assaulted, ostracized, kicked, spit on, called names, yelled at, beaten up, harassed, attacked with false accusations, given a traumatic brain injury, received countless pieces of hate mail and death threats, and fired- all as a direct result of my advocacy. 

But none of these attempts to silence me have worked. 

Necessity of Advocacy

There are people in our country who are discriminated against, not given what they need to thrive, harassed, beaten up, unfairly incarcerated, kept in cages, prematurely and unfairly kicked out of our schools (and our country), and killed. 

Similar to teaching, advocacy can be exciting, terrifying, fulfilling, painful, and empowering. When you stand up for and with others, you are communicating that you hear them and that they matter. 

As the 2018/2019 Minnesota State Teacher of the Year, I was given a platform that not everyone has. Because I was supported by my spouse, employers, state organizations, friends, and students, I didn’t turn down the chance to respectfully protest and communicate my concerns about the words and actions of the Trump Administration: Jessica Dueñas and I were the first State Teachers of the Year to ever boycott a visit with President Trump at the White House, and I chose to kneel during the National Anthem at the National College Football Championship game in New Orleans when I shared a field with President Trump and the First Lady.

Countless humans have reached out and thanked both Jessica and me for standing up for historically marginalized and oppressed humans. However, like so many other advocates, we have been the recipients of some people’s hatred and xenophobia.

Risks of Advocacy

Many advocates have been (and still are) “punished” for their advocacy. Having the support of others makes it possible to keep doing this work. I have learned a great deal since I wrote and presented a TED-Ed talk about the importance of educators being advocates. I now realize, on a deeper level, how much we need both advocates AND allies in order to positively change our world. And I now realize that not everyone has the freedom and/or security to be an advocate. Some educators are responsible for financially supporting family members, and the loss of a job would impact more than just themselves. There are even some educators who could be killed for standing up for others in their communities. I respect that folks need to evaluate for themselves which types of advocacy are safe for them to engage in and which types are not. They need to weigh the benefits versus the potential costs of engaging in advocacy. There are physical, professional, and personal side effects involved with being an advocate.

Even though I am more motivated by the potential cost of my silence than the cost of my advocacy, and would rather face the consequences of standing up for others than deal with the guilt of doing nothing at all, I now understand that this is not a realistic philosophy for every educator to live by.

However, as Glen Coleman, a New Jersey social studies teacher, recently informed me that even though he does not have the courage to be an advocate, he does have the courage to stand with other advocates. For some it is courage and for others it is security and/or freedom of expression. But advocates can not endure without the support of allies. We need them on our team, and their work matters, too.

The Need for Allies

There are a myriad of ineffective strategies that some folks employ to silence advocates. Those who try and sabotage the efforts of advocates who are not matching their personal agendas - are missing out on the opportunity to work together. People who don’t take the time to understand the complicated nuances of advocacy work and spread misinformation, misperceptions, unfounded accusations, and ungrounded assumptions are causing harm. And folks who attempt to manipulate others by creating false narratives and inventing logical fallacies are being abusive. Taking the time to find out the truth and investing energy into discovering the intentions behind the actions of advocates is an effective way to avoid these pitfalls.

Advocacy can often be isolating work. We can be misunderstood, attacked, and abused. And we are often the subject of other people’s hate and/or insecurity. I strive to be an ally for other advocates whenever possible because I know how lonely it can feel. I recently reached out to the administrator of an urban Minnesota middle school who is being verbally attacked for flying a rainbow flag in her school. I was also given the opportunity to speak in her defense at a school board meeting. 

Advice for Allies

Jess Davis, 2019/2020 Minnesota State Teacher of the Year and math teacher at South St. Paul High School, teaches so many of us how to better support black, indigenous, and people of color in our school systems, but she says she could not do her work without allies. 

“It is important to understand the cultural tax people of color pay in our current system, especially in the educational arena to close the opportunity gap and create safe spaces for students. The burden of the work should not always (nor solely) fall on the shoulders of those being marginalized,” Davis says. “It is greatly appreciated when my allies intentionally take some of the responsibility of elevating student voices and advocating for the needs of marginalized populations off my plate.”

When I chose to kneel at the College Football National Championship Football game as President Trump and the First Lady stood yards away, Davis kneeled with me in her Minneapolis home. She chose to pay that cultural tax by helping me research and prepare for that moment. Having allies in my life helps me to have the courage and the endurance to cope with the negative side effects of being an advocate. Their emotional support is powerful and healing.

Erin Murphy, candidate for Minnesota Senate and former Majority Leader of the Minnesota House of Representatives, asks for support from her allies: 

“Share your support when something goes right. Saying, in your own way, why is it important to you. And taking it one step further and sharing it with another person in the neighborhood or community.” requests. “We can build deeper connections and restore our faith in our government, in our politics, if we share what is going right when it does, that will strengthen our democracy and make more possible.”

The work of allies to support their communities can be life changing. As an LGBTQ+ human, the folks who have supported and celebrated my identity, have helped me to feel like I matter. And when people reach out to tell me that they appreciate something I did, it helps to drown out all of the fear and hatred.

Mara Glubka, Director of Transforming Families, guides us all on how to be better allies for transgender humans: 

“I wish that people could move their image of a trans person from an adult whose appearance or voice makes them uncomfortable to one of an innocent child who knows who they are as early as they know if they’re right-handed or left-handed. Letting kids be who they say they are and letting them block an unwanted puberty means that those things that make people uncomfortable will largely be eliminated while, in many instances, saving lives.”

Glubka reminds us to not underestimate how much impact our reactions and behaviors can have on our transgender and gender nonconforming students and that owning and repairing our implicit and explicit biases can make a significant difference on the lives of others. 

Heather Olson, a special education teacher at a MN Correctional Facility, courageously reveals her vulnerability as an advocate:

“As an advocate I ask for grace and patience. I believe in education and I am deeply committed to it being accessible to ALL students. That being said - I am still learning and growing too. It helps to receive support and information in a safe space,”. “My heart and intent are there - I may stumble with words and actions but if people can help guide me, I will continue to move ahead for my students. I am learning new routes, languages and norms. At times it is confusing and overwhelming but I keep going because I want to create a better path for my students.”

I think it can be easy to assume that advocates are always confident and impenetrable. But this is not the case. We, too, can be the victims of prejudice and discrimination. When you stand up for people who are being marginalized and/or oppressed, many of those who benefit from existing systems of oppression will directly come after you. When we, as advocates, have allies who stand with us then everyone benefits.