You scare me.

Because you dismiss nearly everything I believe in with a wave of your hand. Because you divide skills from substance with a razor which I don’t believe exists. Because I think I am perpetually lying to myself about how effective I am, and you know it.

I trust you.

Because you answer 95,000 emails in a year. Because I believe your husband when he says that you will never let anything compromise your commitment to kids. Because you would never let my smarmy sentimentality get in the way of needing to prove my excellence.

I don’t trust you.

Because pinning achievement on test scores is easy– and wrong. Because assuming the worst of people is easy– and wrong. Because hierarchical, top-down, “I don’t give a crap” change is easy– and wrong. Not wrong in its essence, necessarily, but wrong in its implementation. It never sticks in the long run. Never.

I think I know you.

I think I know something of how your criticism of schools sits with you, because I taught in the Korean public schools for over a year. Astounding in their rigor. Inspiring in their commitment to a higher purpose. Terrifying in their inhumanity.

You remind me of Seoul, actually.

Seoul is stunning, as you might know. You find parks there, filled with ancient temples laced with lapis blue and gold, graceful trees, that could make you weep. And they are ringed with five-lane highways with bumper to bumper traffic, stinking of diesel fuel and fumes; modern buildings put up so fast they collapse and kill.

Where are you, Michelle, in all of that beauty and ugliness? I’m calling your Blackberry, but I can’t see your face.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1862444,00.html