#tim barrus on education
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Every piece the New York Times publishes, that is about children, childrens’ rights, the exploitation of children, child trafficking, is done by a writer who at the very least, sounds like a very nervous amateur. It is hardly safe for me to say the Mommy America Suburban Stuff (consumer culture) has had everyone else pussy whipped. Property is everything you need to begin to compete with every other mommie on the block. Our garage only fits two cars and one truck and eight off the road vehicles, and a dirt Bike. We were going to have a pool but then we had a pool. Childhood is relative. It is also a fetish painted nice for another mommy’s smile. I know that look. After all, we live in the same neighborhood.
Childhood becomes a paradigm and there are rules. Your son will be targeted for a concussive event. It’s called piling on. Get the fuck back in that game. That’s childhood. Are they really going to be ballerinas. Some wear diapers. It shows. The New York Times doesn’t know Jack Shit about kids. All of us do not live on Long Island, and some of us, and the children of us, not that unlike the Children of the Vatican you tourists completely ignore which seems to be your answer to everything. Their arrival in America is not their fault. They have landed in a country where everyone hates them. They are more at risk for everything from everyone. There are still children in institutions who were, indeed, ripped from the family’s arms. Those arms cannot be replaced. What we have done with those children is criminal. The middle class guards who physically grabbed those kids – we were just doing our jobs – would not refuse to turn the shower poison on. They would have relished it. Just doing their jobs. Fuck your jobs. And fuck you. These kids will be aging out. Sooner than you think. And then what. How about those prisons still at the Guantanamo Bay Detention Center and Torture Chambers. Blaring music. Everyone here needs a shower.
Why did you do it and who do you know.
Who believes those kids are receiving a great education. We are making felons. We do it every day. They will be interrogated, you never know who the communists are. Order in the house. Order in the House. Mr. Chairman, I move that these communist children go take a long shower. It smells bad in here. The South shall raise again. Mr. Chairman, I hold that these charges cannot be real. I did teacher training for Head Start in my abandoned youth. Hundreds of them. All women. Every last one. Suddenly, I go off like a bomb because I am the worst brat in the class and everyone knows it. Horrified and staring. This is not how teacher trainers act. “Give me a name. What is the name of this child. He is in every class. You know him. You hate him. What a verbal and physical mess. No parenting.” This is where the suggestions begin. He’s going to prison. It has been decided. Everyone white nods. I want their names. Raise your hands. They all had names. One girl. She had a name, too. The entire family works the midnight shift at the slaughterhouse. The twelve-year-old pushed blood down a drain. Failing in school. He was crazy. No. We are failing him. I want to know why the mommies don’t deal with this. Deal with this. – Tim Barrus
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I have only recently discovered that the teacher who abused me had a huge family. All of them boys. That is why I don’t use his name. His children are innocent. And he is dead. Why would I want to drag this family through the horror of it. I did not know what was happening. It was confusing. I tried for years to not think about it. This guy was solidly connected. But his boys are not at fault. Why should they suffer now. I wonder how safe they were all those years. And they would. Suffer. They would be shunned by the community they live in. I am the one who did what the teacher told him to do. It is pounded into your brain right from moment 1, act 1, adults are in charge and you are a complete afterthought. Not the main event. The main event for me was living with the every moment of the abuse over and over again. Don’t tell me survivors can block it out. I have never met anyone from that tribe. Sometimes really bad people do extremely well. It happens. These people have immunity for anything they do. If you’re lucky, you get to learn how to get around them. I smile and nod a lot. But I do not look people in the eye. My eyes are a two car garage filled with rats and cats.
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Foster Children in Appalachia are going hungry. Many have lost what little hope they had been clinging to. They are systemically left out of the equation on a good day. In a pandemic, the good days are few and far between. Child suicides have become common. The numbers for everything from Malaria to tuberculosis to HIV to addiction to Covid are at emergency levels. Then, hunger. Appalachia has serious food deserts. No place to buy food even if you could afford it. We are about to see diseases we thought were in the past.
Death is coming to schools. Pretending that school districts can protect children is laughable. WHERE the fuck do you live. School districts are social institutions, and they have never protected children. Ever.
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Timothy Patrick Barrus, also known as Tim Barrus (born 1950), was born and grew up in Lansing, Michigan. His parents were European American, with his mother being of Scandinavian descent. At the age of 19, Barrus married Jan Abbott. Together they have a daughter named Kree, born in 1974. In 1975 they adopted Tommy, a boy who Barrus said had severe developmental problems. After two years, they turned him back to the state, finding they were unable to care for him adequately. Barrus and Jan later separated and divorced. He moved to San Francisco and later Key West. Barrus remarried in 1993 in San Francisco, to a special education teacher named Tina Giovanni. Barrus began publishing articles in the late 1970s, primarily for the gay leather magazing Drummer, where he worked as an associate editor. After his move to Key West in 1984, he also wrote for The Weekly News, a local gay newspaper. From 1985 to 1992, he published five novels, all dealing with homosexuality in different genres. Titles included Mineshaft and My Brother My Lover. While some were favorably reviewed, he never broke into mainstream acceptance. His novel Genocide was recognized as an early contribution to AIDS literature, described by critic Toby Johnson as “dark and pessimistic.” He is credited by Jack Fritscher with coining the term “Leather Lit.” In connection with his book Anywhere, Anywhere, a novel about Americans in Vietnam during the war, Barrus said that he had been a Vietnam veteran. This account was disputed by people who knew him. In 1999, Barrus submitted an unsolicited manuscript to Esquire magazine under the byline Nasdijj. He noted to them that the magazine had never published a work by a Native American author. “Nasdijj” wrote that his essay was about the death of his adopted son from fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), and that he also had it. His essay, “The Blood Runs Like a River Through My Dreams,” was published in Esquire in 1999 and was a finalist in the National Magazine Awards that year. #destroytheday https://www.instagram.com/p/B5-nJIyhwnI/?igshid=1jh44uyh2swcb
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To this day, the stuff they did to us was a form of terrorism we will not forget. This piece does not tell anything from the real story of it.
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I take kids fishing and watch them learn new things.
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They made little movies. I was working with young boys who were trying to live with HIV. This scene has changed. But not much. Some had parents in prison. It was rock and roll. If there was a problem in the world, they would find it. Take social media. In order to be on social media, you have to know how to spell. Math helps, too, if you want edit your own videos. Real Stories Gallery Foundation gave them phones, gopros, computers, lap tops, tablets, books, art supplies, and hope. Everyone told me the boys would steal the tech. 10 Years of it. No one stole anything. They wore stuff out. What kind of projects can we make. This is code for What Do You Want. Make art, and talk to me. I am asking boys who would rather die than be around any adult who will tell them what to do. In Special Education, we call what we do, SPED. Some of the boys rarely talked. They had crawled up inside themselves. Boom. Tech arrives in boxes. Unexpectedly, the room got loud. With talk. Social media. A challenge. It would be a mistake to tell your Tumblr friends that you have HIV. Don't tell anyone where you live. It would be a mistake to tell your FB friends that your parents were in prison. They had seen prison, and they were scared. Parents get released. They come looking for you. You might have testified against them. Social media, too, wants conflict. Some parents did not know where their kid lived. Suicide watch is not teaching. What other kids would say shocked my boys. Can they say that. Yes.
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The writing is brilliant even if I cannot agree with anything Ross Douthat says. I do not read people like me because there aren't any. What is the Other Side plotting. We need more toddlers who can plot. Hundreds of thousands of toddlers in toddler offices. I am from the Marx Institute of Leftist Fiddledeedee. And exactly who are these Leftist Suits Who Have Ruined America. Why aren't there any leftists at the NYT. An island somewhere. You have everything else covered.
The leftists have left the hotel.
They are blamed shamelessly. But who are they. No one knows.
I need to understand so I might put this black spot on their permanent record. What are the humanities and why are they growing dark. Inquiry as punishment. That is some of us. Not all of us. The humanities originates in the Classical Greek paideia, a course of general education -- the Sophists -- in the mid-5th century bce. Young men for active citizenship in the polis, or city-state; and in Cicero’s humanitas, a program of training proper for orators, first set forth in De oratore (Of the Orator) in 55 bce. In the early Middle Ages the Church Fathers, including St. Augustine, himself a rhetorician, adapted paideia and humanitas—or the bonae (“good”), or liberales (“liberal”), arts, as they were also called—to a program of basic Christian education. We are being prepared for the meat grinder of the Stupid Machine. Where's it's always dark which is every color in the spectrum.
#Tim Barrus#tim barrus on tumblr#tim barrus at the New York Times#new york times#tim barrus and Ross Douthat#university education#humanities
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SPED kids Take On the School
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SPED. Are you kidding me.
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tim barrus
Take notes. We need more babies on this planet like we need global warming. I am anti-baby all the way. Hope and famine. There is no hope for the planet when there are so many people on it that must be fed. As a teacher, I am perhaps supposed to be in favor of education. Education has failed us. Who would want to bring an innocent child into a world that will devour them. Let's have a good time with poverty. Let's have a good time with the loss of any kind of economic stability. Upper middle class parents compare their babies with what. My baby is best. Mommies need to grow up.
Having kids is not a competition. It is a curse. How many jobs will this kid have to survive. I put my kids on a flight out of here the day after Trump won. How can anyone bring a child into a culture controlled by a rapist. I am not allowed to use the word rapist in the New York Times. Or I get kicked off again. But if they can't allow that word, how is it that women tolerate a structure for a rapist to even have a bully pulpit. He will do it again. I am not going to parent a child who is going to learn the ways of a Rape Culture as institutional indifference. You have options. Wow. You can choose not to rape. How visionary. The idea of choosing to not have kids feels like a betrayal. The idea of choosing to not have kids is Radical. Anyone who does this will confront hostility from family, friends, and the community will shun you. It is unethical to bring anyone into the rot we have become.
#tim barrus#tim barrus on tumblr#tim barrus art#tim barrus photography#tim barrus poetry#art#tim barrus and the new york times#poetry#new york times#tim barrus novel
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Tim Barrus
Incendiary Comments is a book that examines my relationship with the New York Times. It’s been a long one. I am publishing my stuff there in terms of following patterns. Themes: Politics. Resistance. Medical. Autism, Neurodivergence (I’m Aspergers). Economics. Democracy. Homelessness. Work-At-Home. Education. Tech. Suits. Parenting. HIV/AIDS. The whole nine yards. I am reporting. The work belongs to me. No one else there can say that in terms of the diversity that gives my voice a drive. I am driven. Reporting on what I said. What I see even if it’s not the same stance of the New York Times that has many moderates but no radical thinking, the focus is on my work. Not their stuff. I have picked my own graphics. I am also a professional photographer. I do not use NYT graphics. I do not intend to publish graphics. Just the text. Below is an example of the writing. I have published nine books. PEN awards. Columbia Journalism Review. Esquire Magazine, Booksellers Awards. Best books of the year awards. Most Notable Book NYT. I have sold over 200,000 books. Including film rights on all my books. Publishing has branded me as provocative and controversial. My books are all controversial. If you or your company cannot handle controversy, let’s avoid wasting one another’s time. My work is not like the work of anyone you know. I call suits suits. My work is an attempt to make the New York Times human. I am a radical. I have been publishing a long time. This one has taken years because I only make one submission a day. You do not know me. Even if you know my name (and you probably don’t) that is different from knowing or reading my work. I will include just a few samples. The New York Times knows I am publishing this book. In fact, I have mentioned it on their pages many times. If such a collection interests you, there is more content on my website. Thank you. — Tim Barrus
Take notes. I am living in a car. I am working in this car. I have published nine books. And I am living and working in a car. I am not alone. Hurricane survivors and these other mountain folks who all worked somewhere else. None of the people here have any experience at being homeless. Now, all of that is over. Big families are in tents. I can work anywhere. It's winter and people are cold. Some people have disappeared. Because they had a chance to get off the grid. Work means chopping firewood. I have worked on picnic tables in parks. I have worked in bus stations toilets. I have worked in schools where when it rained, there would be a deluge from a very bad roof. I have worked in coffee shops where it was warm. So, when you say the word -- work -- no one I have ever met would consider writing a job. At work. Nobody writes about how what's really going on is a sea of sadomasochism perpetuated by Mr. Boss Man, a suit, who gets off on abusing other people who put up with it because. I have no idea why. When suits tell you to jump. You comply. Last year, I wrote books in a treehouse. I am the boss. You suits just shrug indifferently. Everyone is supposed to be like you. Suits watching screens. Robots. The suits call the shots. For you. Not for me. I am not a part of your rotting culture. If I was rich, why would I be working in a car in a parking lot. I have always know that work at home paradigms were expendable because no suit could abuse you beyond the piling on of work. https://tim-barrus.format.com/ [email protected]
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Tim Barrus Teaching Deaf Children to Read and Write
Take notes. I worked in special education (SPED) in a hearing and speech center, clinical environment. Mostly, we had very young children. My class was five deaf four-year-olds who were also mute. There are teachers who would smile at the mute part. My kids were from Chinatown. Let me skip to the part where it's the end of the school year. No one was mute. The room was noisy (I love that). But the proof is in the pudding. I do not believe in printing, and I will not teach it. I teach cursive where the auditory sounding of words are connected. Now, they all had hearing aids. By June, they could talk, have relationships, have friends, and (when they are ready) attend public school. They could read. They could verbalize what they could read. They took to cursive right away.
They could write their own stories.
Parents were shocked. Usually, I'm wasting my time with parents. But with only five kids, I could talk with parents who never thought their child would speak, let alone write stories. Speech therapy every single day. I know lots of men who do that kind of work. No one blinks an eye. I encourage men to take a look at becoming speech therapists. You are needed. You will make good money. And you will meet very cool kids. I give them books that are tough to read. You've got to keep cranking it up. A little harder than they want. Keep reaching. Mothers wept because they never thought that they would hear the voices of their children. A voice is far more than a voice.
#tim barrus#tim barrus on tumblr#tim barrus photography#tim barrus art#tim barrus poetry#art#tim barrus and the new york times#poetry#new york times#tim barrus novel
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The effort to bring parents into this conversation as to what a school board even is, remains long overdue.
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Education today is fast food to feed the pop culture vacuum that pop culture is so very good at creating.
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