A bill worth passing

“Students beginning 9th grade in the 2023-2024 school year and later must successfully complete a personal finance course for credit during their senior year of high school. The course must include but is not limited to the following topics: creating a household budget; taking out loans and accruing debt, including how interest works; home mortgages; how to file taxes; the impact of student loan debt; and how to read a paycheck and payroll deductions. A district may provide a personal finance course through in-person instruction, distance instruction, or a combination of in-person and distance instruction.” Minnesota  HF 4207

The language for this proposed bill came in an email message yesterday from an outfit called Next Gen Personal Finance. They must have sent me an email before since the message was in my spam folder. I have no idea if they have a hidden agenda or political motive, but I have to agree with their mission statement: “By 2030, all U.S. high schoolers will be guaranteed to take at least one semester-long Personal Finance course before graduation.”

It’s been a goal for which I’ve advocated many years.  In “If they let me design the math curriculum,” Blue Skunk, February 8, 2011, I ranted:

I've talked to a number of adults who, like me, are fairly well convinced that they could not graduate from high school today given the "rigorous" math curriculum requirement. (algebra, trigonometry, calculus, etc)

And I am damn sure the majority of the legislators and business leaders who think four years of math is essential for every student couldn't either.

But as I think about it, four year of math is a great idea - we just need to start teaching the right kind of math - consumer math. 

In my school days, "consumer math," was a euphemism for dummy math. You can't hack algebra or trig, Consumer Math class is for you. Ironically, today's graduates need "consumer math" a heck of a lot more than trigonometry. In such a course I would include:

• Calculating interest rates on credit cards and other consumer loans.
• How to do your own income tax returns - state and federal.
• Determining both the rate of return and maintenance cost on mutual funds and other investments.
• Reading and interpreting statistics in the media.
• How to spot a Ponzi scheme (or how to run one).
• Applied statistics: chance of wining the lottery, odds of paying higher taxes because you make over $250,000,  likelihood of inheriting a large sum of money when none of your relatives are rich, etc..
• Creating a personal budget and retirement plan.
• Understanding the current federal, state and local tax codes and determining the percentage of total income paid by different levels of income earners,
• Doing cost/benefit comparisons of medical, life, health, car and home insurance policies.
• Converting measurements from metric to English - applied especially to medications.
• The fundamentals of entrepreneurship.
• And just a dose of bullshit literacy for good measure.

I'm sure you could add to this list rather quickly. I don't know who is qualified to teach it - maybe curmudgeons after retirement? Can we please get alternative licensure?

It would be pretty easy to create similar classes that would replace the traditional physics, English literature, and government classes as well - just to show I'm not picking on math. Trouble is, there may not be enough curmudgeons to go around to teach them.

Of course this won't happen. Both businesses and governments depend on ignorance for their survival.

One major addition to the list above would be how to use personal technology to many of the tasks above. Balancing a checkbook seems moot anymore when you can check your account balance anytime. Spreadsheets for cost analysis seem imperative. Knowing how to keep one’s financial information safe and private is a must-teach.

This might just be the one bill this legislative session worth contacting my representative about. 

Star Wars revisited

In June of 1977 I had just finished my first year as a high school English teacher in the small Iowa town of Stuart. The big city of Des Moines was about an hour drive east. And the big city had multiple movie theaters, including the fancy-schmancy Riviera with its wide screen and audacious audio system.

It was where I watched Star Wars one summer afternoon. And was completely blown away.

The special effects were (for the time) totally amazing. The characters were ones with which this “rebel” could identify. Hey, Luke’s bad hair style was a lot like my own at the time. Lucas and the movie had a sense of humor. The musical score was amazing.

But what captured me the most were the sound effects. The swish of the light sabers. The scream on the hovercraft. The honky-tonk of the alien musicians in the bar. But most of all, the inhalations and exhalations of the menacing Darth Vadar. All which made the air and seats and floor in the movie theater vibrate. Each time the heating vent in my classroom started the next fall, I looked behind me to make sure it wasn’t Darth breathing down my back.

Of course I raved about the film to my fellow teachers. Eventually Star Wars came to the Grand Theater in Greenfield, some 30 miles south of Stuart, and a group of teachers went there one evening to see the show - on my recommendation. (Being teachers, we liked the lower cost of the tickets and the popcorn.) 

Unfortunately, it just wasn’t the same. At the time, the Grand’s screen was small and old. I probably have better speakers in my living room today than the movie house had in the 70s. It was the same movie, but it wasn’t the same experience as seeing it at the Riviera. I lost a lot of my movie critic cred with my fellow educators that night.

I rewatched the original Star Wars movie this week, for probably the tenth time. I have the DVDs of all nine movies. The earlier ones, as I remember, have been “remastered” with a bantha added here and there. But the plot and characters were the same. I have a large screen TV and a good sound system. The air doesn’t vibrate when a spaceship goes overhead, but it’s better than at the Grand. It’s still an engaging movie and I could nearly recite all the dialog, scene by scene. Luke’s haircut hasn’t improved with age.

Star Wars has, of course, gone on to become a big franchise. My love of the series shrank as Episodes I, II, and III appeared and dwindled even more during VII, VIII and IX. And while I watched the Mandalorian, it felt like it took place in another universe - one with which I found it hard to relate.

My son, son-in-law, and grandsons can tell you all you want to know about Boba Fett and Jango Fett and other wonkish lore. But my Star Wars excitement peaked during that first showing at the Riviera. I’ll keep rewatching the series over the next couple of weeks. Perhaps my appreciation will grow. Can’t wait to see Leia in her harem costume and Jar Jar in his fighting mode.

May the force be with you.

Why I love efforts to ban books

 

Image source

There is nothing quite like a “Do Not Touch” sign near an object that makes me want to put my fingertips on it. I can’t be the only contrarian who has these impulses.

Nor am I the only reader for whom books on a “banned” list are must-reads. Do those who wish to limit the reading of others by keeping books away from them, realize how their actions actually have the opposite effect? Especially kids.

There is the common, and I believe accurate, perception that banning books increases their popularity. Banned books certainly get a lot of press and the awareness of a title leads to more readers. There is that undeniable thrill of learning something that is naughty. Many of us like to be challenged by thinking that may be outside societal norms - or at least outside the norms of our own families and communities. And, ah well, there is something in the adolescent brain that simply loves being subversive - a something that some of us never outgrow.

I’ve written a number of books and sadly none of them were ever placed on a banned list. But should I write another one, I am going to be damned-well certain that some parents and politicians will find it unsuitable, especially for young people. Perhaps I’ll compose a racy novel with a sexually non-conforming protagonist and a racially stereotyped antagonist - all seasoned with a good dose of critical race theory, a dollop of cancel culture, and a touch of profanity. Ought to get a few old fart’s undies in enough of a bunch to raise the curiosity of readers. And raise my sales.

So go, book banners, go! Let’s keep those books that make people actually think in the limelight. I, for one, appreciate your efforts.