What Would Robin Williams Do?

The most easily recognized teachers in our culture are on the big screen. So when we think about good teaching, it’s almost impossible not to think of Robin William’s character in Dead Poets Society standing on a desk and inspiring his students. This might be part of the problem. When teaching is associated with unrealistic Hollywood characters, it can create impractical or ridiculous assumptions about what teachers do. In this episode, we hear how the stereotypes of teachers may be contributing to teachers’ decisions to leave education.

Music:

Theme Song By Julian Saporiti

“NPC Theme” by HoliznaCC0 is in the Public Domain.

“Sunny Afternoon” by HoliznaCC0 is in the Public Domain. 

“Infrastructure” by Scott Holmes Music is licensed under a  CC BY-NC license.

“Just a Blip” by Andy G. Cohen is licensed under a CC  BY license.

“Room With a View” by Jahzzar is licensed under a CC BY-SA license.

Movie Clips:

Freedom Writers (Paramount Pictures)

Dead Poets Society (Touchstone Pictures, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures)

School of Rock (Paramount Pictures)

Ferris Bueller (Paramount Pictures, United International Pictures)

Transcript: 

Episode 3: “What Would Robin Williams Do?”

There is a picture-day-esqu photo on my parents’ fridge of me sitting on my dad’s lap. I am wearing a tie-dye shirt and my orange hair is in its natural state of an Eddie Munster widows peak. My dad is in a blue button down and has on a tie. My cheeks crowd my eyes, my smile is so big. My dad, who doesn’t always smile for pictures, has a cheeky grin. 

This picture was taken around the same time that my dad squatted down to eye-level with me and said: “When people ask you where you got your red hair, you tell them the milkman. Okay?”

He didn’t make a big deal about telling me this. It was just a directive, and I said okay. I figured, yeah, that makes sense. 

So as adults would come by, ruffle my hair and say things like, “Oh my, what pretty red hair. Where did you get hair like that?”

I’d look up at them, smile, and tell them, “The Milkman.” 

They would guffaw, cough down a drink, blush, and I’d try to explain, “You know, because he delivers things.” 

And they’d laugh out an “I’m sure he does!” and find my dad who would have a grin settled between his bouncing shoulders as he muffled a laugh, and my mom would say something like “G-uh, Darcy Joe”

Not to be heavy handed, but the stereotypes of what a milkman may or may not do when visiting people’s homes is what makes the joke land. This joke was lost on me until high school. I didn’t understand the baggage associated with being a milkman.

Language matters. Words like milkman have connotations - they carry weight or have stereotypes attached to them. That’s why I can’t flip someone off and say, “Why are you upset,this means joy to me.” There are too many representa