I love hate this book. I wish I could write two separate reviews. In a way this book is two separate books. I happened upon this book and the title struck me as hilarious and insightful. In my journey to become a teacher I am a magnet for other teacher advice that could troubleshoot those troublesome moments. As it's gritty title implies, it fulfills that mission. If I were to review this aspect of the book I would give all 5 stars. There were countless times I had that awkward moment of laughing out loud in a room filled with people who had no idea what I was laughing at. Most of the events or stories were not funny, but the author has an amazing grasp on sarcasm and realism that is unmistakably hysterical. I wish his objective was to write a funny book about teaching, but it was actually a platform to preach his political views. Many times he would begin a skit with an unfortunate student/teacher interaction then break into a sermon about racism or teacher unions. I'm not condoning his opinions, but that's not what I paid money to read about. I feel a little duped by the title much like a sales pitch that offers amazing benefits then traps you in some kind of contract. For this aspect, I would hesitate to even finish reading the book much less rate it with stars. The title should instead be something like It Won't Be Easy: A Guide For Starting a Revolution in Schools. I doubt I would have purchased or entertained reading it at all. As it stands I struggle with my 3 stars rating. ( )

This is a difficult review to write. The author, an award winning teacher, has penned an interesting book (part memoir, part instruction manual, part rant) about his thoughts and experiences in teaching. Part of me deeply admires Rademacher, for the obvious care he takes in his students. Part of me struggles with his constant demeaning of other teachers and the educational system as a whole. Part of me is very puzzled at his understanding of "white privilege" and "micro-aggressions", (perhaps because, the way I interpret his mindset, I will never be a good teacher because of the very fact that I am a white male myself). And part of me wants to sit down with him, over a beer, and discuss this all with him.
There is a lot to make you think in this book. For example, he states "Education is important, the ability to think in complex ways, to understand the people and the world around you, the ability to find, filter, and synthesize information is important. School is not." And, "We are applying our own standards of success, or what sorts of jobs or lives are acceptable or desirable, to the kids we have instead of listening to what they really want". My question is: what kid, in his early teens, really "knows" what he wants? Isn't it our job to show them possibilities that they might not have imagined on their own, or to give them the direction they need to find those possibilities on their own? Not to just accept their statement, that at the age of 15, they want to be a world famous rap star, sports star, movie star? It leans towards enabling and "special snowflake" status.
Just when I'm ready to give up on the author, he careens off in a different direction. With statements such as "My job, the thing I'm paid to do, is to try to make kids better at things". And "teaching makes you a better person". And I start to admire him again.
Ultimately, the author gets stuck in a quagmire of his own making. Worried about his "white privilege", he ends up with his hands tied in dealing with an extremely disruptive student. He admits, "I don't know what to do for this kid. I don't want to get into battles, because I'm scared to win them and scared to lose them. When I don't confront her most destructive behavior, it only persists, it only expands. I think I could bend and twist and beg and shift and get her to do okay in my class, but I don't think it would help her do much better in whatever class comes next". He worries about the perceived micro-aggression of saying hello to a female, worried that he might be hurting her. Its great that he is so in touch with himself, but, as students pointed out to him on other occasions, "Oh, you're in your feelings". My question is, while he's fretting over this one student who has learned how to manipulate him, what about the other 20-30 students in the classroom? Don't they deserve to have a safe and stable learning environment?
So, as you might be able to see from this review, I'm very torn on this book. Some great points and lessons, mixed in with some exasperatingly frustrating ideas and theories. I'll be interested in following further reviews to see how others see it.
I received an advance reading copy of this book from NetGalley, in exchange for a fair and honest review. ( )