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Articles by Christian Curet
Allyship Requires a Lot, Humility Is Just the Beginning: How I Learned and Why Men Need to Step It Up
I’ve always had a hard time asking for help from others. Part of it is absolutely due to the toxic nature of masculinity when I grew up in the 80s. Men don’t ask for help. Expressing weakness is to be avoided at all costs. It’s my job to help others, but don’t expect others to help you. Etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseam. Of course, that’s all bullshit, and that BS has cost me so much as a child, especially as an adolescent, and into adulthood.
The Bookshelf in My Room: A Poem on School Shooting, By a Teacher
I have a bookshelf in my class Filled with long forgotten anthologies Collections of wisdom from writers All over the world, but Mostly America. This bookshelf rests by the door Waiting to serve its main purpose, No longer a repository of knowledge That anyone wants to read. It waits to be called into action, To give it’s life for mine And all of my students, who are American, Dominican, Native, African and “Other.” This bookshelf is there to answer The call, the one that says There is a shooter.
The Unbearable Weight of Intentional Failure - Letting My Students and Myself Fail on Purpose
It’s been seven months since I wrote anything for myself. Correction: since I completed anything for myself. I’ve started nineteen different posts and poems since then, and I let each of them die a slow, painful death as I realized that I didn’t care about what I was writing. Perhaps that’s not right either. I did care about each of them, but as I wrote, I realized that I didn’t know what I actually wanted to say. I couldn’t find my true north in any of it and my point just wandered.
Redefining the American Dream
I am so happy to be back here. I haven’t written for myself in a few months because we’ve been through the hell of moving. We bought a house in Bethlehem, PA just a few weeks before school started and life has been chaotic, not just this past month, but this entire summer.
An Open Letter to all Parents, School Board Members, and Administrators Regarding CRT
Home / Featured Content / An Open Letter to all Parents, School Board Members, and Administrators Regarding CRT To Parents, School Boards, and Administrators, I am an English teacher finishing my tenth year in what has been one of the most stressful times our country has seen in living memory, and the struggles of the pandemic have profoundly hit those schools that can afford them the least. Schools like the one I teach at.
I Was a Lost Boy, Too
His name was Patrick and he was lost. And he wasn’t just lost, he was hopelessly, frantically lost and no one saw him. He was running around the Merry-Go-Round in Funland, just inside the Boardwalk at Rehoboth Beach, among the sweaty throngs of shore-dwellers who have long since left the sandy beaches, have gorged themselves on Grotto’s Pizza and Thrasher’s fries and were playing for tickets. And no one saw him.
Juneteenth, in This America
She was a glorious Black woman, of an age that could have been forty or sixty five, wearing a green and lavender traditional dashiki for women, ringed with gold and a headscarf proudly showing the cap of her bald head. She grew up in New York and now travels all over the country as a self proclaimed Ambassador of Goodwill. He was an amazing White man, that could have been a hard lived fifty, but could have easily been seventy.
Being Chased by White Kids
Up the block from where I stood, I saw a trio of them, looking at me, talking quietly back and forth. I was maybe six or seven, and alone in my hometown of McDonald. I was playing on the other side of the block behind my house, on the sidewalk. Alone. And there were three of them. They were older, maybe eleven or even twelve, taller and bigger than me, even though I was portly, and of course they were white.
Fathers, We Need to Do Better for Mothers
I wrote this on Mother’s Day and I started to wax nostalgic on a post about the wonders of mothers, about how our children are miracles and that in their eyes nothing can be more perfect than our own mother. I remember a moment growing up when we were swimming at a local lake near Pittsburgh, and my mom went swimming with us too.
Teaching Sportsmanship, Campfires, and Smashing the Patriarchy With My Six-Year-Old
Home / Featured Content / Teaching Sportsmanship, Campfires, and Smashing the Patriarchy With My Six-Year-Old Raising a child is a full-time job, and I have three. There are no breaks when they’re young, even when they’re asleep, and you literally never know what is going to happen from one moment to the next. You have to stay super flexible and roll with the literal and figurative punches (for the record, they almost always go the nuts).
'Very Fine People On Both Sides': My Children Are Now Confronting the Reality of the White Moderate
Home / Featured Content / ‘Very Fine People On Both Sides’: My Children Are Now Confronting the Reality of the White Moderate I knew she was coming over to me before she started walking. I heard her need for validation that she did the right thing when she called the police on two Black middle-school kids at the local park before she hit “End’ on the phone.
We’re Raising Savages, Look Out World
Often, during the course of this pandemic, we have remarked that our children are slowly becoming savages. Surely, they are turning feral, devoid of proper socialization. Just this past week, my son decided to time himself as he peeled a banana. With his feet. Not that I saw this unfold, I had to hear about it from our nanny. He did this, for our nanny. Apparently, he did it in under a minute and didn’t bruise or squish the banana at all, which leads me to believe he has practiced this before.
Coming Out of the Doldrums of Seasonal Affective Disorder and Depression
Home / Featured Content / Coming Out of the Doldrums of Seasonal Affective Disorder and Depression It’s been a struggle for all of us this winter: between COVID deaths now over 500,000 in the US, watching our democracy crumble, record cold and snow in many areas of the United States, the rising rates of failure amongst our students, higher rates of mass shootings and murder, and basically anything on the news, it’s been depressing for quite awhile.
'The Nod', Being 'Black Enough', and Black History Month
Home / Featured Content / ‘The Nod’, Being ‘Black Enough’, and Black History Month This past week was the end of my first semester at my new school and the start of the second. All new students, seating charts, IEPs, and a lot of work to be done. It’s still an excuse for not doing what I wanted to, but at least it’s a good one. One of the perks of teaching is being a representative for a lot of different groups and a lot of students recognize that.
Jack of all Trades, Trying to Master One – Teaching - The Good Men Project
It’s a strange job, being a teacher. It turns out, teaching is perhaps the easiest and least taxing part of being an educator; it’s the rest that takes a toll.
Science Myths, Menstrual Masks, and Mea Culpa
On Thursday I drove home from school in silence, with only the hum of the road giving me the soundtrack of my swirling thoughts. I had never, in my ten years of teaching, had a day of conversations like I had that day. I had tried to drown it out with loud music and podcasts, but it was too much. I was experiencing something akin to sensory overload, and all because I asked my classes to look into commonly held beliefs that were proven to be a myth or a lie.
The Family That Quarantines Together, Stays Together?
2021 is already shaping up to be a hell of a year. I can’t decide if the insane coup attempt and the record number of COVID deaths this week is just 2020’s horrible last, fetid dying breath or just the awakening roar of the beast that will be 2021. I want to be positive; after all, common wisdom holds that we choose our outlook on life and how we approach things will determine the outcome.
2021, Chapter One: A New Hope
If there’s a book you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must be the one to write it. – Toni Morrison. “Be the change you want to see in the world.” – Mahatma Ghandi People love symbolism. They love the symbolic gestures and images of religion, they love the symbols of their country and nationality, they love the symbolism of stories and poetry.
The Good Men Project
Home / Featured Content / Sandcastles I remember going to the beach And being shown how to fill up buckets, The sand wet and gritty in my smooth little hand. I remember being taught how to pack the sand, How to tap the bucket so it would come out just right. How to carve in shapes and dig a little moat. I remember our footprints, like a giant’s, around our little castle, But soon enough it began to crumble, not from our shaking the earth, But instead from the tide that had snuck up behind us.
As the Teachers Fall, So Will We All
Our government and too many of our fellow Americans are levying this burden of keeping the country limping along onto our backs. Again. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet I am in my tenth year as a teacher and this has been, without a doubt, the hardest year I’ve ever had, including my first, and it’s not even halfway over.
As the Teachers Fall, So Will We All
Home / Featured Content / As the Teachers Fall, So Will We All I am in my tenth year as a teacher and this has been, without a doubt, the hardest year I’ve ever had, including my first, and it’s not even halfway over. Under normal metrics, I’m failing as a teacher because I can only put in maybe two hours extra a day into my work, because I’m also trying to maintain a healthy family and get at least five hours of sleep a night to stay healthy myself, and I can’t do it.
America, Who Do You Listen To?
One thing that Trump did for our country is show how much ignorance and hate is out there; while many people want to put that genie back in the bottle, maybe it’s time to address the problem instead of hiding it. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet There’s an old joke where a new chief of a Native American tribe who was asked by his people what they should do for the upcoming winter.
America, Who Do You Listen To?
There’s an old joke where a new chief of a Native American tribe who was asked by his people what they should do for the upcoming winter. Being a modern man, he called the weather service and asked what the winter would look like, so his people could prepare. He was told that it would be a bad winter and to lay in a good supply of wood and food. He told his people to prepare for a bad winter, so they did.
An Analogy for These Times
We must defend our country, even from itself, because we all depend on it. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet Do you remember when you were a kid and the way you looked at your parents? I do. You looked at them as heroes, like they were gods walking among us, like every movie star we’d ever seen. In our young eyes, they could do no wrong, and when they disciplined us because we did something wrong, it was the harshest of rebukes.
An Analogy for These Times
Do you remember when you were a kid and the way you looked at your parents? I do. You looked at them as heroes, like they were gods walking among us, like every movie star we’d ever seen. In our young eyes, they could do no wrong, and when they disciplined us because we did something wrong, it was the harshest of rebukes. Like Jesus or Buddha or Mohammed themselves came down and grounded us. Because we loved them so, their harsh words or firm hands stung all the more.
The Real Cost of Being Fat
As I’ve gotten to my middle age, a very unsettling pattern has become very evident to me: I’m losing time. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet Benjamin Franklin, one of our nation’s most notable and notorious founding fathers, a real OG, famously said: “Remember that time is money.” Like so many things, he was right, but not for all the reasons he thought.
The Real Cost of Being Fat
Benjamin Franklin, one of our nation’s most notable and notorious founding fathers, a real OG, famously said: “Remember that time is money.” Like so many things, he was right, but not for all the reasons he thought. In his essay, “Advice to Young Tradesmen,” he correctly states that if you take a half-day off, but spend no money, you still lose those half-days wages. This, of course, was before Paid Time Off, but you get the idea.
Male Anger - A Moment in My Fatherhood and a Problem In Our Country
In a moment, one can end a relationship, change a life, destroy another, bring down a country. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet Late last month my family was camping in the woods of Central Pennsylvania, taking a little break from our home after spending nearly four months consecutively in it with only a few breaks here and there.
Male Anger – A Moment in My Fatherhood and a Problem In Our Country - The Good Men Project
Home / Featured Content / Male Anger – A Moment in My Fatherhood and a Problem In Our Country Late last month my family was camping in the woods of Central Pennsylvania, taking a little break from our home after spending nearly four months consecutively in it with only a few breaks here and there.
As I Come to Grips With My Whiteness, It Is Time for White People to Own Theirs
My name is Christian Curet, and I am not white. I am not Latino. I am an American, and I am asking you to help. Photo credit: author By Christian Curet In March 2018, I attended the March for Our Lives in Washington DC. it was the second large rally or march I’d attended in as many years. The year before I attended the Women’s March in January. Together, literally millions of people marched or gathered all over the world to end violence and abuse.
As I Come to Grips With My Whiteness, It Is Time for White People to Own Theirs
Home / Featured Content / As I Come to Grips With My Whiteness, It Is Time for White People to Own Theirs In March 2018, I attended the March for Our Lives in Washington DC. it was the second large rally or march I’d attended in as many years. The year before I attended the Women’s March in January. Together, literally millions of people marched or gathered all over the world to end violence and abuse.
The Masks We Wear
I wear my mask of civility, of patience, of fear, all so I can ask for my life, please sir. I can’t breathe. Photo Credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet I wear this mask to protect them, to make them feel safe protected from the fear you they’ve decided not to face But it’s not the virus they hate, it’s not the sickness they flee What I’m protecting them from is the fear of me.
The Masks We Wear
I wear this mask to protect them, to make them feel safe protected from the fear you they’ve decided not to face But it’s not the virus they hate, it’s not the sickness they flee What I’m protecting them from is the fear of me. I can’t breathe My Black brothers and sisters, mi familia, aren’t protesting the masks, ‘Cause we’ve been wearing ‘em since they brought us here in clasps Brought in boats, chains forged by their ignorance and hate.
I Used To…
I used to do many things until I couldn’t and now I can’t wait to not do them again. Photo credit: Sophia Curet By Christian Curet I used to think that a playground in wintertime, with swings frozen in place by crystal stalactites and glacial flos ebbing down slides, was one of the saddest places I had seen. I used to until I saw empty playgrounds on a warm spring day.
The Good Men Project
Home / Featured Content / I Used To… I used to think that a playground in wintertime, with swings frozen in place by crystal stalactites and glacial flos ebbing down slides, was one of the saddest places I had seen. I used to until I saw empty playgrounds on a warm spring day.
Feeling Powerless and Angry, yet Optimistic
I’m struggling with this pandemic, with its effects on our country and the world. Photo credit: Shutterstock By Christian Curet Like many of you, I’ve run through the gambit of emotions. I’m not sure of anything right now. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’m not sure what is going to happen this week. I’m not even sure what I’m going to write here. Like many of you, I’m struggling with this pandemic, with its effects on our country and the world.
Feeling Powerless, Angry, but Optimistic
Like many of you, I’ve run through the gambit of emotions. I’m not sure of anything right now. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’m not sure what is going to happen this week. I’m not even sure what I’m going to write here. Like many of you, I’m struggling with this pandemic, with its effects on our country and the world. I am constantly plagued by fears of what is happening around me, to people I know and to people I don’t know.
The Dawn of Motherhood
I hear tense little feet shifting, waiting for the coming bell like greyhounds poised, ready to break free of his morning cage. The alarm rings a minute early, changing that clock is hell and I don’t want to change a thing, true hell is watching them age. He’s always the first one in, awake before the alarm sounds, he waits because he thinks I’m asleep, but I lie in anticipation. Warm curls, puppy breath and floppy arms fly into bed with a bound. A moment with wriggles, giggles and elbowy gyration.
Why I Still Teach, for Now
About two weeks ago one of my 9th graders was struggling with an assignment. Honestly, she’s been struggling with English. In my school, there’s a very large Hispanic population, a fair number of which speak English as a second language. So you can imagine that teaching Shakespeare isn’t always a bowl of laughs nor the romp through the verdant gardens of knowledge that it’s often made out to be.
The Absolute Hell of Raising a Strong Daughter
In The Great Gatsby, Daisy, the golden girl and Gatsby’s love interest, says of her daughter, “I hope she’ll be a fool. That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful, little fool.” I get that, because when a beautiful fool gets hurt by life, by the world that thinks so little of her, by men, that fool can retreat into whatever escapes she wants and will forget what happened to her; she will be ignorant and blissful.
I Am Not Your Latino
“If I am not what you say I am, then you are not who you think you are.” James Baldwin We were discussing music in my seminar class and one of my students looked at another, both of them Latinos, and said, “I bet you listen to that Mexican shit!” and laughed. What he said next, blew my mind. He said, “I don’t mind Spanish music, but I hate that Mexican crap.” My own laughter boomed through the mostly quiet classroom, surprising myself along with my students, who all looked up at me.
A Beautiful, Terrible Conversation-Standing Up
– It’s been a month. One month since that morning, that dreadful morning sitting in my car. The morning my anxiety finally reached a breaking point after months, and I cracked. My clock tells me it’s only three in the morning, but my body is fully awake. I had a dream about that morning, sitting there in my car, covered in my own vomit, but instead of driving away in shame, I got out, went inside, and everybody just looked at me like I was a slut.
A Beautiful, Terrible Conversation – Sharks Circling - The Good Men Project
This is a tale that is being told every day, by MILLIONS of women and tens of thousands of men. Looking at an even cursory amount of research, between RAINN, US Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, and a large study by Stop Street Harassment, anywhere from 30-85% of ALL women in the workplace, school, and the military, have been sexually harassed, and 20-35% of men have been in those same areas. Yet only a fraction report it.
A Beautiful, Terrible Conversation
Forward This has been hard for me to write, so I hope you bear with me. For my friend who asked me to write it, it may be even worse for her to read. I just hope it’s terrible for all the right reasons. I’ve never really learned how to handle surprises well, and because I spent much of my formative years being made fun of, I’ve never really learned how to take a compliment either. Both are usually treated with suspicion or derision. Usually both.
My New Bellybutton, Losing (Almost) Forty Pounds, and How Diabetes May Have Saved My Life
Home / Featured Content / My New Bellybutton, Losing (Almost) Forty Pounds, and How Diabetes May Have Saved My Life Have you ever had an umbilical hernia before? Ever seen one? They can be hideous things when your insides decide they want to be on the outside with all the “cool” organs. Mine was not hideous. I mean, it wasn’t cute, but it was definitely not vomit-inducing, or even cringe-worthy. Just a little bump on the top of my belly button.
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