This marks my 800th blog entry. How quickly it all adds up. One day I'm going to actually have to go back and re-read them. I'm sure I'll cringe at some things and recall other things that I had forgotten entirely. But that's part of the point.
****
Today Barb presented to our school. For those of you who don't know, Barb is a safety consultant for OSHA. She did an absolutely magnificent job. She made the previous guy who presented on safety concerns seem woefully inept.
I cannot begin to tell you how many people came up to me and talked about how great of a job Barb had done. She was personable and charismatic. She also highlighted the personal narratives of accident victims and school employees to help drive her points home rather than inundating us with pure rules and regulations.
I couldn't agree more.
I was a bit worried, though, because as many know, teachers can be the worst group to present to. Unfortunately, many teachers are hypocrites, for they demand attention in their classes, yet often they don't return that to presenters.
I'm glad to say that there was only one rude person - our orchestra instructor who sat alone and read his song book the entire time. But this echoes what I have always thought of him - too good for the general population at LHS and totally absorbed in his own program.
But as with any class, you hope that most of the students pay attention and take something away from the class. And I'm certain that is what happened today with Barb's presentation.
***
Now I have one inservice day and all of Friday to get ready for the start of the year. Wish me luck! I'll need it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The Funeral
Gail flew Eddie, Brian, and Karla up from Colorado for Allen's funeral. Since Barb and Arnie had come over on Saturday for my pre-birthday party, we had the patio clean and much of the house clean as well. So when everyone came over on Sunday, we were able to cook up a huge feast and relax on the patio.
A close up of Eddie.
Karla and Gail.
My dearest.
KoKo, who does not look too happy for whatever reason, and Casey boy.
A close up of Eddie.
Karla and Gail.
My dearest.
KoKo, who does not look too happy for whatever reason, and Casey boy.
New Arrivals in the Garage
Out of nowhere, these guys showed up in our garage, mainly in front of the side window.
At first, they didn't seem to imposing. But on further inspection . . . well, you be the judge.
The size of these spiders - who are what I would call 'barn' spiders on the farm - even has Kristie, the spider lover who left one with a web in the shower - wondering if we shouldn't get some anti-spider spray. However, I've started to enjoy them. As long as they stay in their webs along the wall and not venture farther into the garage.
At first, they didn't seem to imposing. But on further inspection . . . well, you be the judge.
The size of these spiders - who are what I would call 'barn' spiders on the farm - even has Kristie, the spider lover who left one with a web in the shower - wondering if we shouldn't get some anti-spider spray. However, I've started to enjoy them. As long as they stay in their webs along the wall and not venture farther into the garage.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Catching Up
I called Kristie after practice and she told me that Allen passed away this morning. According to Gail, he went peacefully. The funeral will be Tuesday, which also happens to the same day as another of Kristie's doctor appointments before our little girl arrives. Juxtaposition.
******
Unfortunately for Gail, some messiness may begin with her two sisters in dealing with Allen's estate. He left each sister some money. But he left Gail his house in Mayville. Remember, Allen told Gail that if she sold her trailer house, retired, and moved in with him, he would leave the house to her.
If you know Gail at all - this will not surprise you - she now has promised to give her two sisters two thirds of what Allen paid for the house. The only problem (well, not the only one) is that the house is likely not worth what Allen paid for it. Plus, Gail is going to get his paying taxes on her inheritance (including the house) while her sisters get out of that. Not to mention that if something breaks down in the house, will her sisters split the cost with Gail? Of course not. You can imagine that this didn't sit well with the kids. Kristie was the first Gail told, and Kristie just about flipped.
She reminded Gail that if she just wanted to give away that much money, she had six kids - who had no help with college and were out of the house and living on their own by 18 - and ten grandchildren she could give that money to - rather than her two sisters, who also have done far better financially in their lives than Gail.
Kristie also told Gail that she should start thinking about the future. What happens if she can't take care of herself? A nursing home is not cheap and that money could come in handy for such things rather than going to her sisters who are already getting their fair share of the estate.
This same theory was echoed by Kristie's other siblings.
But Gail is always going to be Gail, and she will never keep anything for herself. Give, give, give. That is Gail. In fact, a few months ago she told us that Allen had given her and her sister each some money for staying with him and helping him out so much. However, Allen did not give anything to his third sister. Well, Gail, of course, felt sorry for her and wanted to give half of her share to her sister! Remember too that this sister did not do anything to help Allen at all.
But that's Gail for you.
****
Tomorrow is our annual scrimmage. We usually square off against Crookston, but their numbers are down considerably this year, so they had to cancel on us. Instead we will face Bemidji. But for some reason our AD switched our first game, also against Bemidji, to our last game. Then our traditional opponent for the second game, Red River, dropped us. So we won't play until the second week of September, facing off against Grand Forks Central. The only problem here is that we will likely be Central's fourth or fifth game, and they will be our first.
Our scrimmage, though, will attract scores of parents. This always gets me because it's just a glorified practice. But I suppose parents have had little to do (God forbid they live their own lives), so they will show up in droves for their sons.
Now I'm not suggesting that it's bad to support your child. I'm just saying don't make it more important to yourself than your child.
That was how it was with my dad. I remember going for a few Saturday morning drives with Dad and rehashing the previous night's football game. Of course, Dad had his own ideas about how the game should be played (they were always modeled after how he and his generation played the game). I dreaded these rides, simply because I was incredibly loyal to my coaches, who were all my heroes, and so the rides usually turned into arguments. No major arguments, but we could have spent our time doing something other than bickering.
I often wonder how much of this same thing still goes on. Bruce Brown (http://www.hitrunscore.com/bruce-brown-biography.html) has done a lot of research on this and found that the number one thing athletes hate is the car ride home with dad (or even mom in some cases).
A peer of mine told me at the spring choir concert that he was going to teach his daughter how to really play post during the summer. Now his way of playing, much like my dad's, differed from what the coach wants. So who is the loser in this? His daughter! If she listens to her father, she incurs the wrath of the coach; if she listens to the coach, she incurs the wrath of the father. How stupid is all of this.
Parents, parent. Coaches, coach. Athletes, play and have fun.
Of course, it is even worse when parents live vicariously through their kids' athletic and social lives.
We always tell the kids that just because their fathers played running back or quarter back or center, doesn't necessarily mean that they will. Certainly what their father wants and what we want are sometimes not the same thing. But we will get our way because we are going to do what is best for the athlete and the team, not for dear old Dad and what he wants.
This hit me when Casey decided to not go out for football. Now unlike our newspaper editor's son, Casey didn't quit because he didn't like the sports mentality. Rather, he didn't like to work and lift weights and he enjoys playing paint ball instead. More power to him.
Now, I could get all worked up like some parents and think - by God no step-son of mine will quit football! You have to follow in my footsteps and play linebacker and knock the snot out of people. Bull.
Casey is his own person, and I need to let him be. Even if him playing football would have meant a lot to me. It's his life, not mine.
This was never more apparent than with KoKo last year in softball. She attended nearly every morning session of the sports excel program. She was the only seventh grader to show up in early spring to help put up the new fence. Yet, what does her coach do? She plays her at a different position and lets her split time with others (who didn't attend sports excel or bother to help out with the extra things) and the coach even played some players who had missed a lot of time for other sports.
This pissed Kristie and I off. But KoKo didn't bat an eye. She was just happy to be part of the team and hang out with her friends.
So we followed her lead and acted properly rather than call the coach and voice our concerns.
******
Unfortunately for Gail, some messiness may begin with her two sisters in dealing with Allen's estate. He left each sister some money. But he left Gail his house in Mayville. Remember, Allen told Gail that if she sold her trailer house, retired, and moved in with him, he would leave the house to her.
If you know Gail at all - this will not surprise you - she now has promised to give her two sisters two thirds of what Allen paid for the house. The only problem (well, not the only one) is that the house is likely not worth what Allen paid for it. Plus, Gail is going to get his paying taxes on her inheritance (including the house) while her sisters get out of that. Not to mention that if something breaks down in the house, will her sisters split the cost with Gail? Of course not. You can imagine that this didn't sit well with the kids. Kristie was the first Gail told, and Kristie just about flipped.
She reminded Gail that if she just wanted to give away that much money, she had six kids - who had no help with college and were out of the house and living on their own by 18 - and ten grandchildren she could give that money to - rather than her two sisters, who also have done far better financially in their lives than Gail.
Kristie also told Gail that she should start thinking about the future. What happens if she can't take care of herself? A nursing home is not cheap and that money could come in handy for such things rather than going to her sisters who are already getting their fair share of the estate.
This same theory was echoed by Kristie's other siblings.
But Gail is always going to be Gail, and she will never keep anything for herself. Give, give, give. That is Gail. In fact, a few months ago she told us that Allen had given her and her sister each some money for staying with him and helping him out so much. However, Allen did not give anything to his third sister. Well, Gail, of course, felt sorry for her and wanted to give half of her share to her sister! Remember too that this sister did not do anything to help Allen at all.
But that's Gail for you.
****
Tomorrow is our annual scrimmage. We usually square off against Crookston, but their numbers are down considerably this year, so they had to cancel on us. Instead we will face Bemidji. But for some reason our AD switched our first game, also against Bemidji, to our last game. Then our traditional opponent for the second game, Red River, dropped us. So we won't play until the second week of September, facing off against Grand Forks Central. The only problem here is that we will likely be Central's fourth or fifth game, and they will be our first.
Our scrimmage, though, will attract scores of parents. This always gets me because it's just a glorified practice. But I suppose parents have had little to do (God forbid they live their own lives), so they will show up in droves for their sons.
Now I'm not suggesting that it's bad to support your child. I'm just saying don't make it more important to yourself than your child.
That was how it was with my dad. I remember going for a few Saturday morning drives with Dad and rehashing the previous night's football game. Of course, Dad had his own ideas about how the game should be played (they were always modeled after how he and his generation played the game). I dreaded these rides, simply because I was incredibly loyal to my coaches, who were all my heroes, and so the rides usually turned into arguments. No major arguments, but we could have spent our time doing something other than bickering.
I often wonder how much of this same thing still goes on. Bruce Brown (http://www.hitrunscore.com/bruce-brown-biography.html) has done a lot of research on this and found that the number one thing athletes hate is the car ride home with dad (or even mom in some cases).
A peer of mine told me at the spring choir concert that he was going to teach his daughter how to really play post during the summer. Now his way of playing, much like my dad's, differed from what the coach wants. So who is the loser in this? His daughter! If she listens to her father, she incurs the wrath of the coach; if she listens to the coach, she incurs the wrath of the father. How stupid is all of this.
Parents, parent. Coaches, coach. Athletes, play and have fun.
Of course, it is even worse when parents live vicariously through their kids' athletic and social lives.
We always tell the kids that just because their fathers played running back or quarter back or center, doesn't necessarily mean that they will. Certainly what their father wants and what we want are sometimes not the same thing. But we will get our way because we are going to do what is best for the athlete and the team, not for dear old Dad and what he wants.
This hit me when Casey decided to not go out for football. Now unlike our newspaper editor's son, Casey didn't quit because he didn't like the sports mentality. Rather, he didn't like to work and lift weights and he enjoys playing paint ball instead. More power to him.
Now, I could get all worked up like some parents and think - by God no step-son of mine will quit football! You have to follow in my footsteps and play linebacker and knock the snot out of people. Bull.
Casey is his own person, and I need to let him be. Even if him playing football would have meant a lot to me. It's his life, not mine.
This was never more apparent than with KoKo last year in softball. She attended nearly every morning session of the sports excel program. She was the only seventh grader to show up in early spring to help put up the new fence. Yet, what does her coach do? She plays her at a different position and lets her split time with others (who didn't attend sports excel or bother to help out with the extra things) and the coach even played some players who had missed a lot of time for other sports.
This pissed Kristie and I off. But KoKo didn't bat an eye. She was just happy to be part of the team and hang out with her friends.
So we followed her lead and acted properly rather than call the coach and voice our concerns.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Editorial
The Gazette, our local newspaper, features an interesting editorial. The editor sporadically writes a column when he has an axe to grind. God forbid he actually do his job as editor and write a weekly column. Kristie alerted me to the editorial when I called her on my way home. The article got her so worked up that she actually wrote a letter to the editor (I read it. It's excellent and she needs to send it in. It trumps anything that will follow, but I thought I'd add my two cents here as well).
This week he writes about his son's decision to not go out for seventh grade football, opting to go out for drama instead (which his father conveniently advises).
Now our editor doesn't miss a chance to get his digs in at some of his favorite targets -- public officials, the local tubing business, and athletics -- while plugging his favorite subjects -- annexing from the city, the drama club (last spring our choir and band teachers were foolish enough to allow him to distribute the drama club awards during the concert - and he didn't shut up for close to 20 minutes!), and model airplanes. This time he uses his column to take a shot at sports.
If you have read this blog before you know that I have taken my fair share of shots at athletics too, though I am a coach. I stand by the belief that athletics enhance a student's high school experience. They should not supplant their academic experience.
However, the problem with the editorial - besides the axe grinding and cheap shots - is he is putting words in his son's mouth and twisting the whole thing around to meet his own needs.
Here is the paragraph that has Kristie and I worked up --
"He [the editor's son] truly loves being with his friends and participating in sports for fun. Although not one of his reasons, he does not like what he identifies as the "sports mentality." The idea that you put everything aside (including family) when you join a team and winning is the most important thing. Everything else comes in second. He doesn't want to be one of those people."
Not great writing. I know (you should read the rest of the rag if you want to see some horrendous writing).
As Kristie points out in her response, what the editor neglects is the simple fact that drama and athletics can -- and should - co-exist and mutually benefit one another. That's the way it is where I teach. If you examine the choir kids, you will find the top athletes and scholars. This is a relatively healthy environment for kids with athletics, choir, and school enhancing the students' experience.
The editor, though, seems to think he can only build up his drama club by knocking down athletics. Kristie is living proof that this doesn't need to be - she loved choir and drama as well as playing four sports (and never earning anything lower than an A in any of her classes).
Personally, I have a problem with the editor's underhanded agenda.
If you look at that paragraph, you'll see his little digs right away. Now, we live in a very small town. It's not like we have Pop Warner football leagues or things like that. We do have some elementary school sports programs as well as summer rec, but if his son is just entering seventh grade, how does he really know that his son has been playing sports strictly for fun when he has not even had a chance to be exposed to organized athletics? That would be like me saying that Casey enjoys acting for the fun of it but doesn't want to go out for the drama club. I hardly consider what Casey uploads on youtube as organized theatre.
Next, the editor claims that the sports mentality was not one of his son's reasons for quitting. So why mention it at all? And is "sports mentality" - though it's in quotes - really coming from his son's mouth or - more likely - his own?
Third, who says that all sports have that mentality? At Lincoln, our head football coach goes out of his way to foster a true football family with his seniors and their parents. You should see their final senior recognition night. Coach Mumm puts a strong emphasis on academics and leadership. He exposes his seniors to leadership building activities and makes sure they are role models. For example, in their team meetings every morning he has a leadership activity, right a long side the offensive and defensive game plans. He also has scheduled time this fall for his seniors to work with elementary kids about making good choices. He even has a gold dot for all of his players to put on their cell phones. The gold dot is to remind them to "do the right thing" at all times. To drive this point him, his seniors will wear a blue shirt with a gold dot on the front every Thursday. The back of the shirt reads "do the right thing." Does that sound like someone who has a so called "sports mentality"? Mumm also refuses to give out awards - as do several of our coaches - because it is not about winning and personal achievement - it is about building - and here is another of Mumm's slogans - "a lifetime of memories." Athletics enhance this.
Simply claiming that in order to be an athlete you have to sacrifice your family in order to win is as ludicrous as saying that only nerds, faggots, and freaks go out for drama.
Finally, the editor concludes that "He [his son] doesn't want to be one of those people." I thought this wasn't even one of his reasons? Didn't the author even read the second sentence of his own paragraph? If he isn't putting words in his son's mouth there, he certainly is twisting his son's decision to not play athletics into an act of martyrdom.
This week he writes about his son's decision to not go out for seventh grade football, opting to go out for drama instead (which his father conveniently advises).
Now our editor doesn't miss a chance to get his digs in at some of his favorite targets -- public officials, the local tubing business, and athletics -- while plugging his favorite subjects -- annexing from the city, the drama club (last spring our choir and band teachers were foolish enough to allow him to distribute the drama club awards during the concert - and he didn't shut up for close to 20 minutes!), and model airplanes. This time he uses his column to take a shot at sports.
If you have read this blog before you know that I have taken my fair share of shots at athletics too, though I am a coach. I stand by the belief that athletics enhance a student's high school experience. They should not supplant their academic experience.
However, the problem with the editorial - besides the axe grinding and cheap shots - is he is putting words in his son's mouth and twisting the whole thing around to meet his own needs.
Here is the paragraph that has Kristie and I worked up --
"He [the editor's son] truly loves being with his friends and participating in sports for fun. Although not one of his reasons, he does not like what he identifies as the "sports mentality." The idea that you put everything aside (including family) when you join a team and winning is the most important thing. Everything else comes in second. He doesn't want to be one of those people."
Not great writing. I know (you should read the rest of the rag if you want to see some horrendous writing).
As Kristie points out in her response, what the editor neglects is the simple fact that drama and athletics can -- and should - co-exist and mutually benefit one another. That's the way it is where I teach. If you examine the choir kids, you will find the top athletes and scholars. This is a relatively healthy environment for kids with athletics, choir, and school enhancing the students' experience.
The editor, though, seems to think he can only build up his drama club by knocking down athletics. Kristie is living proof that this doesn't need to be - she loved choir and drama as well as playing four sports (and never earning anything lower than an A in any of her classes).
Personally, I have a problem with the editor's underhanded agenda.
If you look at that paragraph, you'll see his little digs right away. Now, we live in a very small town. It's not like we have Pop Warner football leagues or things like that. We do have some elementary school sports programs as well as summer rec, but if his son is just entering seventh grade, how does he really know that his son has been playing sports strictly for fun when he has not even had a chance to be exposed to organized athletics? That would be like me saying that Casey enjoys acting for the fun of it but doesn't want to go out for the drama club. I hardly consider what Casey uploads on youtube as organized theatre.
Next, the editor claims that the sports mentality was not one of his son's reasons for quitting. So why mention it at all? And is "sports mentality" - though it's in quotes - really coming from his son's mouth or - more likely - his own?
Third, who says that all sports have that mentality? At Lincoln, our head football coach goes out of his way to foster a true football family with his seniors and their parents. You should see their final senior recognition night. Coach Mumm puts a strong emphasis on academics and leadership. He exposes his seniors to leadership building activities and makes sure they are role models. For example, in their team meetings every morning he has a leadership activity, right a long side the offensive and defensive game plans. He also has scheduled time this fall for his seniors to work with elementary kids about making good choices. He even has a gold dot for all of his players to put on their cell phones. The gold dot is to remind them to "do the right thing" at all times. To drive this point him, his seniors will wear a blue shirt with a gold dot on the front every Thursday. The back of the shirt reads "do the right thing." Does that sound like someone who has a so called "sports mentality"? Mumm also refuses to give out awards - as do several of our coaches - because it is not about winning and personal achievement - it is about building - and here is another of Mumm's slogans - "a lifetime of memories." Athletics enhance this.
Simply claiming that in order to be an athlete you have to sacrifice your family in order to win is as ludicrous as saying that only nerds, faggots, and freaks go out for drama.
Finally, the editor concludes that "He [his son] doesn't want to be one of those people." I thought this wasn't even one of his reasons? Didn't the author even read the second sentence of his own paragraph? If he isn't putting words in his son's mouth there, he certainly is twisting his son's decision to not play athletics into an act of martyrdom.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Uncle Allen
After nearly two years of battling serious health issues, Kristie's uncle Allen has now stopped his kidney dialysis and is preparing to die.
Gail has spent the better part of a year taking care of him. If you have read this blog at all, you know that has not gone easy for either of them. Allen has lived alone all of his life. He is a former science teacher and principal. Gail too has lived alone since her divorce. Both are incredibly headstrong and refuse to ever admit they're wrong about anything.
Allen often tells Gail that she doesn't talk. This frustrates Gail because the one thing she cannot do is be quiet. However, what Allen means is that Gail doesn't really have informed opinions since she has never been much of a reader or news watcher. Plus, Gail lacks the confidence to speak her mind when she is being picked on, which Allen, and Gail's sister, Joyce, tend to do simply because Gail is an easy target.
Now you will not find a more giving or caring person than Gail. But the past year has not been easy for any involved. Of course, it doesn't help matters when Gail has spent a good portion of the year lamenting her early retirement and begrudging having to give up her house and move in to Allen's basement, where she has lived as somewhat of a captive.
For Kristie and I, it now is difficult for us to feel the way Gail wants us to feel now that Allen is passing (she will soon canonize him and deny that he was ever mean to him, though we both have had hours devoted to hearing how poorly he treated her).
Luckily for us, Eddie and Brian made the trip up from Denver to see Allen before he dies, though neither of them were particularly close to him. This, of course, could not make Gail any happier.
We have not seen him. This sounds horrible, but I could not bear to see Kristie grandmother Theola before she died from lung cancer (and I was much closer to her than Allen) simply because of what I went through in the past few years with Mom and Dad. Kristie feels the same way and believes, rightly so, that it would insencere for her to show up now when they were never close and after having Gail fill her head with all of these horrible things that Allen has said to her mother.
Sadly, Allen marks now the 15th person we know who has died since we have been together. In our own families we have suffered considerably, the kids have lost relatives on their father's side of the family and we have lost my parents, Theola, another of Kristie's uncles, and several parents or spouses of dear friends.
We need to have more additions and far, far fewer subtractions.
Gail has spent the better part of a year taking care of him. If you have read this blog at all, you know that has not gone easy for either of them. Allen has lived alone all of his life. He is a former science teacher and principal. Gail too has lived alone since her divorce. Both are incredibly headstrong and refuse to ever admit they're wrong about anything.
Allen often tells Gail that she doesn't talk. This frustrates Gail because the one thing she cannot do is be quiet. However, what Allen means is that Gail doesn't really have informed opinions since she has never been much of a reader or news watcher. Plus, Gail lacks the confidence to speak her mind when she is being picked on, which Allen, and Gail's sister, Joyce, tend to do simply because Gail is an easy target.
Now you will not find a more giving or caring person than Gail. But the past year has not been easy for any involved. Of course, it doesn't help matters when Gail has spent a good portion of the year lamenting her early retirement and begrudging having to give up her house and move in to Allen's basement, where she has lived as somewhat of a captive.
For Kristie and I, it now is difficult for us to feel the way Gail wants us to feel now that Allen is passing (she will soon canonize him and deny that he was ever mean to him, though we both have had hours devoted to hearing how poorly he treated her).
Luckily for us, Eddie and Brian made the trip up from Denver to see Allen before he dies, though neither of them were particularly close to him. This, of course, could not make Gail any happier.
We have not seen him. This sounds horrible, but I could not bear to see Kristie grandmother Theola before she died from lung cancer (and I was much closer to her than Allen) simply because of what I went through in the past few years with Mom and Dad. Kristie feels the same way and believes, rightly so, that it would insencere for her to show up now when they were never close and after having Gail fill her head with all of these horrible things that Allen has said to her mother.
Sadly, Allen marks now the 15th person we know who has died since we have been together. In our own families we have suffered considerably, the kids have lost relatives on their father's side of the family and we have lost my parents, Theola, another of Kristie's uncles, and several parents or spouses of dear friends.
We need to have more additions and far, far fewer subtractions.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Eleventh year
This fall marks my eleventh year in the classroom.
In the shower (where I always seem to come up with my best ideas and blog topics) I was thinking about all that I've learned in the past decade. Then I realized it would be more beneficial to list all of the things I still haven't figured out (and might never get around ever figuring out!)
* How to foster effective discussions in my classrooms. I just got a book called Talking in Class: Using Discussion to Enhance Teaching and Learning to help me out with this. I already am starting to reorganize my (poor) approach to discussions in my classes.
* How to properly end a unit. My tests leave me feeling incomplete. Regardless of the results, I never get the feeling that I have effectively communicated the precise things the kids need to take away from the unit. My projects too leave me wanting to do more. The imovie projects have gone over very well, and the kids have been intrinsically motivated, but have I really taught them anything other than how to summarize, pick out key quotes, and to use the imovie application?
* How to ever get anything done on the last day of school.
* How to actively involve parents. I am always hesitant to call either when their son or daughter does something spectacular or something inappropriate. I'm a wimp when it comes to that. Although, in 99% of my experiences, whenever I have contacted a parent (usually via email - see I'm a wimp) they have been supportive.
* How to fully plan a lesson, unit, or class. In the ten years I've been teaching, there has never (and I'm not exaggerating here) been one single week where I've known on Monday what I would exactly be doing on Friday. I have a clue, but that's it.
* How to keep my personal beliefs out of my classroom. I am going, though, to make a concerted effort this year. I want students to think for themselves, without being clouded by my beliefs. So I'm going to try and antagonize and play devil's advocate more than ever this year.
* How to evenly and consistently enforce my classroom rules. I go over them the first day, usually at a break neck speed because I want to get right into something interesting that I end up skipping a couple. Then by mid quarter, I usually have totally abandoned them.
* How to manage late work. I could just go the route of making it all half credit, but then what about students who have legit excuses for being gone? How do I differentiate between the ones how were gone and the ones who were lazy? One of my peers has a great system where she has a series of folders for every student! Then when she hands out assignments, if a student is gone, she places the assignment in their folder. I envy that, but there is no way I'm that organized.
* How to teach students the true value of revision. I have too many students handing it work - even in my college in the classroom classes - which are glorified rough drafts.
* How to teach Faulkner. I love "A Rose of Emily." But teaching it? Or "Barn Burning?" Forget about it!
* How to stay current on all the professional reading and literature. I look at the college in the classroom reading list and shudder at all of the novels on there that I haven't read! My problem is that I will become interested in one author, as I did with the short stories of Hemingway, and I'll read so many that I kind of burn myself out.
* How to teach the research paper. Every time I teach it, I do it differently. I honestly don't think it can be done in the neat, cookie cutter, note card approach. Sure, a few students write their papers that way. But I know the bulk of them write it like most of us do - in spurts with a messy, messy trail of notes, sources, working bibliographies, drafts, and free writes.
* How to better balance history and literature. I so love history, that sometimes, especially in my Brit Lit classes, they come across more as history classes than literature classes. But it's all so damned interesting.
* How to use more group work assignments.
* How to use speeches better in my classes.
* How to get students involved in my classes more. Believe it or not, I don't like being up in front of the class on stage. I always feel like I'm really teaching when I'm bopping around from student to student seeing what they're working on or answering questions or just watching them read (one of my favorite things to do) and imagining the little mini-movies going on in their heads. I want to put the students up in front of the class directing it more. I just haven't figured out a great way to do this.
Well, that's my list for now. I might think of some more additions to this list tomorrow morning in the shower.
In the shower (where I always seem to come up with my best ideas and blog topics) I was thinking about all that I've learned in the past decade. Then I realized it would be more beneficial to list all of the things I still haven't figured out (and might never get around ever figuring out!)
* How to foster effective discussions in my classrooms. I just got a book called Talking in Class: Using Discussion to Enhance Teaching and Learning to help me out with this. I already am starting to reorganize my (poor) approach to discussions in my classes.
* How to properly end a unit. My tests leave me feeling incomplete. Regardless of the results, I never get the feeling that I have effectively communicated the precise things the kids need to take away from the unit. My projects too leave me wanting to do more. The imovie projects have gone over very well, and the kids have been intrinsically motivated, but have I really taught them anything other than how to summarize, pick out key quotes, and to use the imovie application?
* How to ever get anything done on the last day of school.
* How to actively involve parents. I am always hesitant to call either when their son or daughter does something spectacular or something inappropriate. I'm a wimp when it comes to that. Although, in 99% of my experiences, whenever I have contacted a parent (usually via email - see I'm a wimp) they have been supportive.
* How to fully plan a lesson, unit, or class. In the ten years I've been teaching, there has never (and I'm not exaggerating here) been one single week where I've known on Monday what I would exactly be doing on Friday. I have a clue, but that's it.
* How to keep my personal beliefs out of my classroom. I am going, though, to make a concerted effort this year. I want students to think for themselves, without being clouded by my beliefs. So I'm going to try and antagonize and play devil's advocate more than ever this year.
* How to evenly and consistently enforce my classroom rules. I go over them the first day, usually at a break neck speed because I want to get right into something interesting that I end up skipping a couple. Then by mid quarter, I usually have totally abandoned them.
* How to manage late work. I could just go the route of making it all half credit, but then what about students who have legit excuses for being gone? How do I differentiate between the ones how were gone and the ones who were lazy? One of my peers has a great system where she has a series of folders for every student! Then when she hands out assignments, if a student is gone, she places the assignment in their folder. I envy that, but there is no way I'm that organized.
* How to teach students the true value of revision. I have too many students handing it work - even in my college in the classroom classes - which are glorified rough drafts.
* How to teach Faulkner. I love "A Rose of Emily." But teaching it? Or "Barn Burning?" Forget about it!
* How to stay current on all the professional reading and literature. I look at the college in the classroom reading list and shudder at all of the novels on there that I haven't read! My problem is that I will become interested in one author, as I did with the short stories of Hemingway, and I'll read so many that I kind of burn myself out.
* How to teach the research paper. Every time I teach it, I do it differently. I honestly don't think it can be done in the neat, cookie cutter, note card approach. Sure, a few students write their papers that way. But I know the bulk of them write it like most of us do - in spurts with a messy, messy trail of notes, sources, working bibliographies, drafts, and free writes.
* How to better balance history and literature. I so love history, that sometimes, especially in my Brit Lit classes, they come across more as history classes than literature classes. But it's all so damned interesting.
* How to use more group work assignments.
* How to use speeches better in my classes.
* How to get students involved in my classes more. Believe it or not, I don't like being up in front of the class on stage. I always feel like I'm really teaching when I'm bopping around from student to student seeing what they're working on or answering questions or just watching them read (one of my favorite things to do) and imagining the little mini-movies going on in their heads. I want to put the students up in front of the class directing it more. I just haven't figured out a great way to do this.
Well, that's my list for now. I might think of some more additions to this list tomorrow morning in the shower.
Casey's latest creation
I'm not saying I totally understand it, but here is Casey's latest imovie creation. He and his buddies have been working on it the past few nights.
They began working on it Sunday evening. Of course, given these guys' schedules, no one really began showing up until nearly ten o'clock. By that time Kristie and I were in bed, but the boys were just about to get to work.
In the morning I found a mess in the garage (I inadvertently burned some of their props, mistaking them for garbage). At first we just thought it was Casey and Austin. However, when Kristie came home from work Casey mentioned that Randy had stopped by after work to help them out.
"Randy?" Kristie asked.
"Yep. And Carl came over too."
"Carl," Kristie said. "When did he come over?"
"After work."
I guess we are running a pretty tight ship around here, but Casey and his buddies could be doing far worse things that tapping into their creative sides. When I was that age, my friends and I were usually more interested in locating the directions for the nearest party.
Times have changed. For the better.
They began working on it Sunday evening. Of course, given these guys' schedules, no one really began showing up until nearly ten o'clock. By that time Kristie and I were in bed, but the boys were just about to get to work.
In the morning I found a mess in the garage (I inadvertently burned some of their props, mistaking them for garbage). At first we just thought it was Casey and Austin. However, when Kristie came home from work Casey mentioned that Randy had stopped by after work to help them out.
"Randy?" Kristie asked.
"Yep. And Carl came over too."
"Carl," Kristie said. "When did he come over?"
"After work."
I guess we are running a pretty tight ship around here, but Casey and his buddies could be doing far worse things that tapping into their creative sides. When I was that age, my friends and I were usually more interested in locating the directions for the nearest party.
Times have changed. For the better.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Kenzie's room
We are putting the final touches on Kenzie's room. Kristie finished painting on Sunday while I hung the shades. I think she picked the perfect colors for our little girl - pink, lime green, and brown.
Then we put the crib together and moved in some of her other things.
Kristie and KoKo hung some pictures on the walls tonight.
Now that the room is almost ready, I can hardly wait for her to arrive.
The crib and colors.
Kenzie's buddies and book (one of Kristie's favorites from her childhood).
The closet doors.
Mom and Beaner getting to work.
Then we put the crib together and moved in some of her other things.
Kristie and KoKo hung some pictures on the walls tonight.
Now that the room is almost ready, I can hardly wait for her to arrive.
The crib and colors.
Kenzie's buddies and book (one of Kristie's favorites from her childhood).
The closet doors.
Mom and Beaner getting to work.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Saddest sight of the summer
What is the deal with all of the obese people using the little rascal or motorized chairs? I cannot recall seeing so many people out on these. What did they use to do in that past? Not venture out? Or did they just suck it up and walk?
Either way, it alarms me.
But nothing alarmed me as much as an obese child driving his own miniature little motorized vehicle around Target a few weeks ago. What kind of a message are we sending? I mean the odds of an obese child remaining obese throughout his life is something like 75% or greater.
Now we are empowering them by getting them these motorized vehicles! If the poor kid can't walk around Target, how is he going to get around school or hope to even lead some type of a normal life.
But then again, given our insane obesity rates, maybe he is going to be leading a normal life after all.
Either way, it alarms me.
But nothing alarmed me as much as an obese child driving his own miniature little motorized vehicle around Target a few weeks ago. What kind of a message are we sending? I mean the odds of an obese child remaining obese throughout his life is something like 75% or greater.
Now we are empowering them by getting them these motorized vehicles! If the poor kid can't walk around Target, how is he going to get around school or hope to even lead some type of a normal life.
But then again, given our insane obesity rates, maybe he is going to be leading a normal life after all.
An interesting read
Kristie works with a man who is the director of a cooper center that seeks to distribute funds to teachers and other groups. Kristie told him that I was a teacher and he gave her the book Entertaining an Elephant. Here is the link for the book http://www.amazon.com/Entertaining-Elephant-Novel-Learning-Letting/dp/0965625400.
It is a fictional account of a tired English teacher who is pantomiming his days away drilling his students full of grammar lessons in order to make them better writers. One day he meets the new janitor who is unlike anyone he has ever met. Then the next day he sees an interesting quote scrolled on his board, which he believes is the remnants of a debate club meeting. He finds his kids discussing the quote rather than chomping at the bit to start on their grammar worksheets (imagine that!). The rest of the book is the story of this teacher's rebirth as his former beliefs in drilling grammar into his kids evaporates. Instead of covering material, he sees, instead, the importance of teaching his students. Or rather, letting his students have an active role in both teaching him and themselves. This forever changes him.
In fact, it reminds me of my time in grad school at BSU and how I had a similar experience.
This is my favorite quote from the book. I don't know how true it is, but it certainly is interesting --
"Our bodies contain three grams of iron, three grams of bright, silver-white manganese, and copper. Proportionate to size, they are among the weightiest atoms in our bodies, and they came from the same source, a long-ago star. There are pieces of stars within us all."
It is a fictional account of a tired English teacher who is pantomiming his days away drilling his students full of grammar lessons in order to make them better writers. One day he meets the new janitor who is unlike anyone he has ever met. Then the next day he sees an interesting quote scrolled on his board, which he believes is the remnants of a debate club meeting. He finds his kids discussing the quote rather than chomping at the bit to start on their grammar worksheets (imagine that!). The rest of the book is the story of this teacher's rebirth as his former beliefs in drilling grammar into his kids evaporates. Instead of covering material, he sees, instead, the importance of teaching his students. Or rather, letting his students have an active role in both teaching him and themselves. This forever changes him.
In fact, it reminds me of my time in grad school at BSU and how I had a similar experience.
This is my favorite quote from the book. I don't know how true it is, but it certainly is interesting --
"Our bodies contain three grams of iron, three grams of bright, silver-white manganese, and copper. Proportionate to size, they are among the weightiest atoms in our bodies, and they came from the same source, a long-ago star. There are pieces of stars within us all."
AYP
The big news at last week's curriculum meeting was the our school district has not met the AYP (Adequately Yearly Progress) for No Child Left Behind.
The troubled spot lies in the elementary school where special ed students didn't make enough improvement. Now, this is not a surprise, for it is not always easy to align one's curriculum with a special ed student. It takes quite a bit of work between the teacher and special ed teacher, not to mention work on the kid's part. It's difficult enough to keep a student on track when you have them in class everyday. However, when you have a student spending much of their class time in a resource room, it can become more difficult.
At the high school, we were fortunate enough to have all kids meeting AYP. How long that will happen remains a question mark.
The overall student growth summary for reading did reveal that students did drop a little in reading from ninth to tenth grade. However, when looking at the data, we found that the trouble areas occurred when we tested our kids over the winter. Now the caveat here is that we test all students in the fall and spring. I believe teachers had the opportunity to test kids in the winter if they wanted to. Well, it takes a nano second to realize that no teacher WANTS to test their kids (well, maybe our middle school teachers would. They seem obsessed with these damned tests!), so only a fraction of our students took the reading test over the winter. For example, our mean dips below their target growth in both the winter of '07 and '08. In the fall of '07 we tested 166 sophomores. In the winter of '08 we tested all of 16. Then in the spring we tested 168 again. So our drop in scores lies on 16 students. Not fair nor accurate.
Our middle school teachers also raised a great point with the reading test analysis. They noticed that the test didn't seem to have any consistency in terms of the questions it asked. For example, on our high school reading test there were 8 questions focusing on vocab, 33 on comprehension, and 18 on literature. So all of the work spent on vocab came down to just 8 questions. Why the strong emphasis on comprehension? And how can you spend time teaching vocab when it comes down to roughly 16 questions on two tests? And those tests - and of course how well your students perform on them - determine funding for you school! How messed up is that?
Believe it or not, I'm actually hoping NCLB is not chucked by the new administration. I don't agree with a lot of it, but I'm sick of seeing so many of my colleagues shrug and furrow their brows and grumble, "This too shall pass," whenever a new policy is invoked. What happened to Outcome Based Education? Or the Profiles of Learning and Grad Standards?
Can you blame teachers for being skeptical every time a new program is introduced? This certainly isn't conducive to learning.
While discussing our test results, one colleague raised a good point, if the test is truly reflective of what our students need to know and use out in the real world, why not teach to the test then? I think this is a valid point. I also worry when, as teachers, we teach the thing we want to rather than what kids need to know. I think of KoKo's teacher last year who hammered her to death with grammar worksheets, though there is precious little research that shows that this is effective. Yet, it is still done.
However, I think if we teach whatever we love - even grammar - and we do it in the context of our kids' lives and we align it with the standards and our curriculum, I see no reason why we can't teach what we want. In fact, I think we should teach what we want, with an eye toward the test - and that's it (as opposed to teaching completely for the test).
When I teach To Kill a Mockingbird, I hope students are motivated to pick it up and read it based on my passion and zest for it. But I also know the novel is ripe with potential to examine vocab and allusions, to analyze themes and events, to summarize important events, to evaluate author's techniques and other elements of literature, to synthesize the ideas and events with what is happening around us right now. If a student can do that, I know they can do well on any standardized test designed to test the areas that businesses, politicians, and education experts believes kids need to 'know.'
Here too is something to keep all of this AYP alarm in perspective. Nearly half of the high schools in the state failed to meet AYP. Even the almighty Edina failed to meet AYP. Now some of the smaller schools or impoverished schools have been complaining about some of the injustices inherent in the tests and education policy of NCLB. But now that some very affluent schools, with affluent and powerful parents, have ran into trouble with NCLB, we can begin to see some change in policy enacted.
Despite all of this 'test' talk, I am eagerly awaiting my classroom and my kids. It's going to be a great year.
The troubled spot lies in the elementary school where special ed students didn't make enough improvement. Now, this is not a surprise, for it is not always easy to align one's curriculum with a special ed student. It takes quite a bit of work between the teacher and special ed teacher, not to mention work on the kid's part. It's difficult enough to keep a student on track when you have them in class everyday. However, when you have a student spending much of their class time in a resource room, it can become more difficult.
At the high school, we were fortunate enough to have all kids meeting AYP. How long that will happen remains a question mark.
The overall student growth summary for reading did reveal that students did drop a little in reading from ninth to tenth grade. However, when looking at the data, we found that the trouble areas occurred when we tested our kids over the winter. Now the caveat here is that we test all students in the fall and spring. I believe teachers had the opportunity to test kids in the winter if they wanted to. Well, it takes a nano second to realize that no teacher WANTS to test their kids (well, maybe our middle school teachers would. They seem obsessed with these damned tests!), so only a fraction of our students took the reading test over the winter. For example, our mean dips below their target growth in both the winter of '07 and '08. In the fall of '07 we tested 166 sophomores. In the winter of '08 we tested all of 16. Then in the spring we tested 168 again. So our drop in scores lies on 16 students. Not fair nor accurate.
Our middle school teachers also raised a great point with the reading test analysis. They noticed that the test didn't seem to have any consistency in terms of the questions it asked. For example, on our high school reading test there were 8 questions focusing on vocab, 33 on comprehension, and 18 on literature. So all of the work spent on vocab came down to just 8 questions. Why the strong emphasis on comprehension? And how can you spend time teaching vocab when it comes down to roughly 16 questions on two tests? And those tests - and of course how well your students perform on them - determine funding for you school! How messed up is that?
Believe it or not, I'm actually hoping NCLB is not chucked by the new administration. I don't agree with a lot of it, but I'm sick of seeing so many of my colleagues shrug and furrow their brows and grumble, "This too shall pass," whenever a new policy is invoked. What happened to Outcome Based Education? Or the Profiles of Learning and Grad Standards?
Can you blame teachers for being skeptical every time a new program is introduced? This certainly isn't conducive to learning.
While discussing our test results, one colleague raised a good point, if the test is truly reflective of what our students need to know and use out in the real world, why not teach to the test then? I think this is a valid point. I also worry when, as teachers, we teach the thing we want to rather than what kids need to know. I think of KoKo's teacher last year who hammered her to death with grammar worksheets, though there is precious little research that shows that this is effective. Yet, it is still done.
However, I think if we teach whatever we love - even grammar - and we do it in the context of our kids' lives and we align it with the standards and our curriculum, I see no reason why we can't teach what we want. In fact, I think we should teach what we want, with an eye toward the test - and that's it (as opposed to teaching completely for the test).
When I teach To Kill a Mockingbird, I hope students are motivated to pick it up and read it based on my passion and zest for it. But I also know the novel is ripe with potential to examine vocab and allusions, to analyze themes and events, to summarize important events, to evaluate author's techniques and other elements of literature, to synthesize the ideas and events with what is happening around us right now. If a student can do that, I know they can do well on any standardized test designed to test the areas that businesses, politicians, and education experts believes kids need to 'know.'
Here too is something to keep all of this AYP alarm in perspective. Nearly half of the high schools in the state failed to meet AYP. Even the almighty Edina failed to meet AYP. Now some of the smaller schools or impoverished schools have been complaining about some of the injustices inherent in the tests and education policy of NCLB. But now that some very affluent schools, with affluent and powerful parents, have ran into trouble with NCLB, we can begin to see some change in policy enacted.
Despite all of this 'test' talk, I am eagerly awaiting my classroom and my kids. It's going to be a great year.
Interesting . . .
I found this on Deborah Meier's blog.
"The $1 billion-a-year Reading First program has had no measurable effect on students’ reading comprehension, on average, although participating schools are spending significantly more time teaching the basic skills that researchers say children need to become proficient readers, a major federal report finds.
The long-awaited interim report from the Reading First Impact Study, released last week by the Institute of Education Sciences, says that students in schools receiving grants from the federal program have not fared any better than their counterparts in comparison schools in gaining meaning from print" (EdWeek, May 7, 2008).
Here is the blog if you're interested.
http://www.deborahmeier.com/
"The $1 billion-a-year Reading First program has had no measurable effect on students’ reading comprehension, on average, although participating schools are spending significantly more time teaching the basic skills that researchers say children need to become proficient readers, a major federal report finds.
The long-awaited interim report from the Reading First Impact Study, released last week by the Institute of Education Sciences, says that students in schools receiving grants from the federal program have not fared any better than their counterparts in comparison schools in gaining meaning from print" (EdWeek, May 7, 2008).
Here is the blog if you're interested.
http://www.deborahmeier.com/
Will we never learn?
Yesterday, Kristie and I needed to fill the propane tank we use for the grill as well as pick up a few odds and ends.
This, of course, meant a trip t Walmart.
We headed for TR Saturday morning, wanting to get the trip out of the way so we could enjoy the rest of our day. However, as soon as I pulled up to Walmart, I knew it wasn't going to be that easy for the lawn and garden department, which is where I exchange my propane tank for a new one, was locked up.
I thought I could just lug the tank in and see if they department was open. However, the greeter told me I couldn't bring the tank in. I attempted to explain my plight. She seemed like a nice lady but outside of saying "Welcome to Walmart" and "Thanks for shopping at Walmart," there was not much she could do.
I explained that I had to bring it in because the lawn and garden department was closed. She called for help and I could hear the help line squawk as she was given a good fifteen seconds of instructions - of which I could only catch bits and pieces, namely that I had to bring it around to the lawn and garden department.
However, when the greeter turned to me, instead of telling me what I could do, she just said "You can't bring it in."
So fifteen seconds of instructions obviously didn't register with this gal.
So I explained my plight again, emphasizing the fact that the lawn and garden department was locked, though it was 10 in the morning.
Again, the call to her manager. Again, 15 seconds of squawking instructions. This time I paid closer attention. I could only catch that I was supposed to bring it over to the lawn and garden department. Apparently, the greeter failed to tell her manager that the lawn and garden department was locked.
So giving up on getting any further with the greeter, I headed out a side door and placed the tank next to the compartments where the other tanks were.
Then I headed back into Walmart. Guess who greeted me as if we had never met (just 15 seconds earlier)? Yep, the greeter.
"Welcome to Walmart!" she said brightly.
I nodded and headed for the lawn and garden department. It was open and people were shopping but the lanes were closed and - in typical Walmart fashion - no damn workers in sight.
So I headed for customer service, which I thought was in the back. On the way there, I saw two workers checking their cell phones over in the paint department. However, I forgot about them when I finally found customer service.
There I had to wait another ten minutes or so while the lady working there tracked down the worker in charge of lawn and garden. Finally, the gal showed up. Guess what? She was one of the workers over in the paint department checking her damn phone rather than working!
After 20 minutes, I had a new tank but we had given up on doing any other shopping in Walmart.
If we hadn't gotten such a late start, we would have headed west to GF.
Say what one will about Target, it certainly is more expensive than Walmart, but they at least have those boxes in some aisles that one can push and a Target employee will be there within 60 seconds to assist you. I've used it twice in the baby department, and the workers were always prompt and helpful.
Unlike Walmart.
So we headed over to Kmart and found what we needed, and we even found that my youngest niece is now working there. At least in Kmart we didn't feel like we were in a never ending warehouse where there is one worker for every 20 square feet (and a helpful worker for every quarter mile!)
This, of course, meant a trip t Walmart.
We headed for TR Saturday morning, wanting to get the trip out of the way so we could enjoy the rest of our day. However, as soon as I pulled up to Walmart, I knew it wasn't going to be that easy for the lawn and garden department, which is where I exchange my propane tank for a new one, was locked up.
I thought I could just lug the tank in and see if they department was open. However, the greeter told me I couldn't bring the tank in. I attempted to explain my plight. She seemed like a nice lady but outside of saying "Welcome to Walmart" and "Thanks for shopping at Walmart," there was not much she could do.
I explained that I had to bring it in because the lawn and garden department was closed. She called for help and I could hear the help line squawk as she was given a good fifteen seconds of instructions - of which I could only catch bits and pieces, namely that I had to bring it around to the lawn and garden department.
However, when the greeter turned to me, instead of telling me what I could do, she just said "You can't bring it in."
So fifteen seconds of instructions obviously didn't register with this gal.
So I explained my plight again, emphasizing the fact that the lawn and garden department was locked, though it was 10 in the morning.
Again, the call to her manager. Again, 15 seconds of squawking instructions. This time I paid closer attention. I could only catch that I was supposed to bring it over to the lawn and garden department. Apparently, the greeter failed to tell her manager that the lawn and garden department was locked.
So giving up on getting any further with the greeter, I headed out a side door and placed the tank next to the compartments where the other tanks were.
Then I headed back into Walmart. Guess who greeted me as if we had never met (just 15 seconds earlier)? Yep, the greeter.
"Welcome to Walmart!" she said brightly.
I nodded and headed for the lawn and garden department. It was open and people were shopping but the lanes were closed and - in typical Walmart fashion - no damn workers in sight.
So I headed for customer service, which I thought was in the back. On the way there, I saw two workers checking their cell phones over in the paint department. However, I forgot about them when I finally found customer service.
There I had to wait another ten minutes or so while the lady working there tracked down the worker in charge of lawn and garden. Finally, the gal showed up. Guess what? She was one of the workers over in the paint department checking her damn phone rather than working!
After 20 minutes, I had a new tank but we had given up on doing any other shopping in Walmart.
If we hadn't gotten such a late start, we would have headed west to GF.
Say what one will about Target, it certainly is more expensive than Walmart, but they at least have those boxes in some aisles that one can push and a Target employee will be there within 60 seconds to assist you. I've used it twice in the baby department, and the workers were always prompt and helpful.
Unlike Walmart.
So we headed over to Kmart and found what we needed, and we even found that my youngest niece is now working there. At least in Kmart we didn't feel like we were in a never ending warehouse where there is one worker for every 20 square feet (and a helpful worker for every quarter mile!)
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Beijing mascots
Han Meilin, the art behind the artwork of the '08 summer games, once spent time in prison. But now he has designed these guys as the mascots for the Beijing Olympics.
Cute, aren't they?
They almost make you forget about all of those protests that plagued China (those radical Tibetan monks) prior to the Olympics.
Cute, aren't they?
They almost make you forget about all of those protests that plagued China (those radical Tibetan monks) prior to the Olympics.
Checking in
It's been awhile since the last blog entry. A lot has happened.
Football practice is under way. In fact, we are about to finish our first week. A wonderful group of kids. Can't wait for the season to start.
I finished hauling in crushed rock for the back yard. It took about four truck loads. But it was peaceful out in the pit. I let the dogs swim in the pit. The geese returned. In full force. There had to be close to a hundred when we went out last night.
Kristie has been watching the Olympics. It's too bad Mom isn't around anymore because I could see Kristie and Mom glued to the TV over the swimming and gymnastics (a persona favorite of Mom's).
****
The horror! The horror!
This evening Casey bought a cell phone. He promised to foot his portion of the bill since we added him to our plan. Another sign of the looming apocalypse.
Of course, KoKo is insanely jealous and believes she must have one.
I have four words for her --
Over my dead body.
But her mother has a way of giving in to her, so I have to stand firm.
Football practice is under way. In fact, we are about to finish our first week. A wonderful group of kids. Can't wait for the season to start.
I finished hauling in crushed rock for the back yard. It took about four truck loads. But it was peaceful out in the pit. I let the dogs swim in the pit. The geese returned. In full force. There had to be close to a hundred when we went out last night.
Kristie has been watching the Olympics. It's too bad Mom isn't around anymore because I could see Kristie and Mom glued to the TV over the swimming and gymnastics (a persona favorite of Mom's).
****
The horror! The horror!
This evening Casey bought a cell phone. He promised to foot his portion of the bill since we added him to our plan. Another sign of the looming apocalypse.
Of course, KoKo is insanely jealous and believes she must have one.
I have four words for her --
Over my dead body.
But her mother has a way of giving in to her, so I have to stand firm.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Football
First day of football. Forty freshman reported! And possibly our best player has not yet stepped on the field. I think we had all of 21 players last year. Now we have nearly double that.
Like I said before, I'm reserving opinion on how talented we are. But we have numbers at least.
Like I said before, I'm reserving opinion on how talented we are. But we have numbers at least.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The Pit
We needed some gravel to add to the back drive way, so that meant a trip out to the pit. We couldn't resist taking Kozy and Joker. Joker loved living on the farm with Dad. In fact, Joker was in the best shape of his life. Dad would work in the field with his A and Joker would run right along in the furrow with him. Dad would take him for rides in the truck too.
It didn't take long for the pups to find the water.
Kozy dove right in.
Joker was not far behind.
We even played fetch.
One unexpected find was my old, old bike. I got this baby from Ace Hardware in TRF. It was great. Gotta love those curled handle bars. I loved that bike.
It didn't take long for the pups to find the water.
Kozy dove right in.
Joker was not far behind.
We even played fetch.
One unexpected find was my old, old bike. I got this baby from Ace Hardware in TRF. It was great. Gotta love those curled handle bars. I loved that bike.
Why don't we ever take a weekend off?
Kristie asked me that question as we lounged on the patio, taking a respite from adding gravel to our drive way in the back yard and cleaning out the garage. This was after Kristie spent the morning painting Kenzie's room.
I don't have an answer for her, but the hard work is paying off.
I don't have an answer for her, but the hard work is paying off.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Casey's newest video
Here is Casey's latest creation from his second paint ball tournament of the summer.
Friday, August 08, 2008
End of the week
Today marks the end of our week long MNHS class devoted to "American 1870-1912: The Gilded and the Gritty." Sadly, it will be the last session, after four years (I think) with our scholars, Loeil and Eric. Both have been excellent scholars and very entertaining.
As I believe I wrote in another entry, this type of professional development should be mandatory for all teachers. I think too often we, as teachers, forget what it is like to be students and to grapple with readings and ideas. And that is just what we have done every summer as part of this class.
This morning I was listening to a podcast with Deborah Meier who lamented how little schools really do with their teachers over the summer. She said quite matter of faculty that we don't organize summer camps so stupidly as we do our summer teacher training. The camp counselors don't show up a week before the campers do. They arrive a month early. What benefits would that have on education, if teachers arrived a month early and were allowed time to talk shop with one another and attend professional development seminars and read scholar journals and do research and encounter renewal activities.
Yet, that never happens.
Of course, just because schools are not organized that way, it doesn't mean teachers can't do those things on their own time. It is one reason I spend way too much money on professional texts and listen to the education podcasts and keep this blog and soak up every minute I can with valued teachers. It is also what makes this class so rewarding.
As we were about to break for lunch, Loeil gave me a compliment.
He leaned over and said, "Reynolds. You know I've quite enjoyed your curious mind. It's all too rare to find that today, but it's absolutely necessary in education. It's that intellectual curiosity that is so important. I've enjoyed that and am glad you model that in your classes."
I about fell out of my chair. I have had some excellent teachers and colleagues -- Christianson, Drake, Christensen, Michael, Semanko, Weaver, Schnabel, and Hauser who have greatly impacted my career and Loeil is right up there. I only got to really teach with Loeil for one year, although I got to know him during student-teaching. But I have always been impressed with his curious nature and tried to model myself after him.
Then I mentioned to him how last year during an inservice day, we sat down with administration to discuss some professional articles. Jan, one of my colleagues, was placed in a group with one of our administrators while I was placed with one of our counselors. We had a good discussion of the article. When I asked Jan how their discussion went she replied that they discussed the article for a few minutes and then began talking about Sioux athletics.
Loeil just shook his head. So much for intellectual curiosity.
The rest of the afternoon was devoted to two gentlemen who will be observing and monitoring us as we move on to the next phase of the class.
I am really looking forward to this.
One of the men is working on software that allows teachers to see - in the form of charts and graphs - not only what their students are learning in terms of the standards but also see if teachers are spending too much time on memorizing facts or deep thinking skills.
It is quite remarkable. I usually grimace at the mention of testing, but to see the information up on the wall in with the skills color coded and the depth on knowledge charted, it was quite fascinating.
Plus, the other man is a retired teacher who works with student teachers and other social studies department helping them develop and align their curriculum. He offered some very good suggestions. Though they were not earth-shattering, they were good reminders of what we should keep in mind when starting over each year.
I am already fired up for our next session this fall. Though whoever fills in for our scholars next will have some incredibly large shoes to fill.
As I believe I wrote in another entry, this type of professional development should be mandatory for all teachers. I think too often we, as teachers, forget what it is like to be students and to grapple with readings and ideas. And that is just what we have done every summer as part of this class.
This morning I was listening to a podcast with Deborah Meier who lamented how little schools really do with their teachers over the summer. She said quite matter of faculty that we don't organize summer camps so stupidly as we do our summer teacher training. The camp counselors don't show up a week before the campers do. They arrive a month early. What benefits would that have on education, if teachers arrived a month early and were allowed time to talk shop with one another and attend professional development seminars and read scholar journals and do research and encounter renewal activities.
Yet, that never happens.
Of course, just because schools are not organized that way, it doesn't mean teachers can't do those things on their own time. It is one reason I spend way too much money on professional texts and listen to the education podcasts and keep this blog and soak up every minute I can with valued teachers. It is also what makes this class so rewarding.
As we were about to break for lunch, Loeil gave me a compliment.
He leaned over and said, "Reynolds. You know I've quite enjoyed your curious mind. It's all too rare to find that today, but it's absolutely necessary in education. It's that intellectual curiosity that is so important. I've enjoyed that and am glad you model that in your classes."
I about fell out of my chair. I have had some excellent teachers and colleagues -- Christianson, Drake, Christensen, Michael, Semanko, Weaver, Schnabel, and Hauser who have greatly impacted my career and Loeil is right up there. I only got to really teach with Loeil for one year, although I got to know him during student-teaching. But I have always been impressed with his curious nature and tried to model myself after him.
Then I mentioned to him how last year during an inservice day, we sat down with administration to discuss some professional articles. Jan, one of my colleagues, was placed in a group with one of our administrators while I was placed with one of our counselors. We had a good discussion of the article. When I asked Jan how their discussion went she replied that they discussed the article for a few minutes and then began talking about Sioux athletics.
Loeil just shook his head. So much for intellectual curiosity.
The rest of the afternoon was devoted to two gentlemen who will be observing and monitoring us as we move on to the next phase of the class.
I am really looking forward to this.
One of the men is working on software that allows teachers to see - in the form of charts and graphs - not only what their students are learning in terms of the standards but also see if teachers are spending too much time on memorizing facts or deep thinking skills.
It is quite remarkable. I usually grimace at the mention of testing, but to see the information up on the wall in with the skills color coded and the depth on knowledge charted, it was quite fascinating.
Plus, the other man is a retired teacher who works with student teachers and other social studies department helping them develop and align their curriculum. He offered some very good suggestions. Though they were not earth-shattering, they were good reminders of what we should keep in mind when starting over each year.
I am already fired up for our next session this fall. Though whoever fills in for our scholars next will have some incredibly large shoes to fill.
New Insight
We are currently discussing the readings for our last day of the MNHS class, focusing on the idea of "empire" in America at the end of the 19th century.
The group I was in focused on this piece written by Albert Beveridge called "March of the Flag" which is pushing for America to invade Cuba and the Philipinnes.
The contrasting piece is by William Jennings Bryan called "Will it Pay" which warns about the danger of turning America into an empire machine.
The connections between the controvery over the war in Iraq now is striking.
Of course, the person side of history is always more interesting and powerful. One story discussed comes from Rudyard Kipling, a notorious British empirialist who wrote an essay called "White Man's Burden" urging America onward in their efforts toward empire (remember at this time the British empire was still in power).
But what is more interesting is the fallout that happened with Kipling. As a rabid empirialist who wrote much on the need for the educated white man to save the savages from themselves (and you thought "The Jungle Book" was just a kid's tale?). However, Kipling's son so bought into this foolishness that he promptly inlisted in the military. Unfortunately, he was too young but lied and got in. On his 18th birthday he was sent to the front where he promptly lasted less than an hour before he was obliterated. His body was never found.
Kipling was never the same.
Two brief lines from his poem "Common Form" show how Kipling changed his mind regarding war and empire after his son's death --
"If any question why we died
Tell them, because our fathers lied"
The group I was in focused on this piece written by Albert Beveridge called "March of the Flag" which is pushing for America to invade Cuba and the Philipinnes.
The contrasting piece is by William Jennings Bryan called "Will it Pay" which warns about the danger of turning America into an empire machine.
The connections between the controvery over the war in Iraq now is striking.
Of course, the person side of history is always more interesting and powerful. One story discussed comes from Rudyard Kipling, a notorious British empirialist who wrote an essay called "White Man's Burden" urging America onward in their efforts toward empire (remember at this time the British empire was still in power).
But what is more interesting is the fallout that happened with Kipling. As a rabid empirialist who wrote much on the need for the educated white man to save the savages from themselves (and you thought "The Jungle Book" was just a kid's tale?). However, Kipling's son so bought into this foolishness that he promptly inlisted in the military. Unfortunately, he was too young but lied and got in. On his 18th birthday he was sent to the front where he promptly lasted less than an hour before he was obliterated. His body was never found.
Kipling was never the same.
Two brief lines from his poem "Common Form" show how Kipling changed his mind regarding war and empire after his son's death --
"If any question why we died
Tell them, because our fathers lied"
Propaganda
In doing some research for my class this week, I came across a bit of 'news' that is fascinating me: the supposed NAFTA super highway. What you say? That is exactly what I said. But here is what it apparently is, a superhighway designed to run right through America's heartland which will allow Mexican trucks to haul cargo up into Canada. Well, the downfall of this is easy to see. If it's real.
If I were like my Republican friend, who instantly seems to believe whatever propaganda comes his way, I would instantly believe this and forward it to all my Democratic friends.
However, even though it is apparently anti-Bush, and I would love to accept it as fact and forward it to all my Republican friends (is that not an oxymoron? Just kidding!), I still have to think this is a myth.
Most of the people I've talked to here have heard nothing about this, which leads to one to side with some of the stories that allege this is a subversive scheme of Bush's.
Here is a link to a story on the supposed 'super highway'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MBmFrYWPoG8
But is it real? Is it liberal propaganda?
As I try to get to the bottom of this, I can't help but think how this is the type of concepts our students should be studying and analyzing and trying to decipher. For how many kids just blindly believe what their parents tell them. Now that is not bad, but it isn't necessarily allowing kids to think for themselves (I'm reminded of a student last year who wrote her persuasive paper against the use of seat belts. Knowing that her parents are out in left field on many issues, I knew her ludicrous argument (many people are trapped inside their cars and burn to death because of seat belts or being able to jump from your tumbling car and avoid injury) were coming straight from dinner table conversation).
If I were like my Republican friend, who instantly seems to believe whatever propaganda comes his way, I would instantly believe this and forward it to all my Democratic friends.
However, even though it is apparently anti-Bush, and I would love to accept it as fact and forward it to all my Republican friends (is that not an oxymoron? Just kidding!), I still have to think this is a myth.
Most of the people I've talked to here have heard nothing about this, which leads to one to side with some of the stories that allege this is a subversive scheme of Bush's.
Here is a link to a story on the supposed 'super highway'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MBmFrYWPoG8
But is it real? Is it liberal propaganda?
As I try to get to the bottom of this, I can't help but think how this is the type of concepts our students should be studying and analyzing and trying to decipher. For how many kids just blindly believe what their parents tell them. Now that is not bad, but it isn't necessarily allowing kids to think for themselves (I'm reminded of a student last year who wrote her persuasive paper against the use of seat belts. Knowing that her parents are out in left field on many issues, I knew her ludicrous argument (many people are trapped inside their cars and burn to death because of seat belts or being able to jump from your tumbling car and avoid injury) were coming straight from dinner table conversation).
"If Men Were Seeking the Franchise"
Jane Addams’ “If Men Were Seeking the Franchise” from Ladies’ Home Journal (June 1913) is one of the best pieces we have read so far.
It is a wonderfully satire on the women suffrage movement. I read it last night and was giggling the entire time. Her satire and cuts at the male dominated society are that great.
I can’t wait to use this in class next year.
Addams’ has a brilliant knack for turning the tables on her opponents. The main point of her article is to suppose what would happen if women ran things rather than men. Through this she expertly reveals all of the ludicrous and vile practices of the dominant male culture.
Here is one of my favorite quotes –
On their fascination with war and spending:
“Every time a gun is fired in a battleship it extends, or rather explodes, seventeen hundred dollars, as much a college education costs many a country boy, and yet you would be firing off these guns as mere salutes, with no enemy within three thousand miles, simply because you so enjoy the sound of shooting.”
On the need for safe practices on farms and health laws in industries:
“We have also heard that in certain States, in order to save the paltry price of a guard which would protect a dangerous machine, men legislators allow careless boys and girls to lose their fingers and sometimes their hands, thereby crippling their entire futures.”
“. . . that the average loss of life among the structural-iron workers who erect the huge office buildings and bridges is as disastrous in percentages as was the loss of life in the Battle of Bull Run. When the returns of this battle were reported to President Lincoln he burst into tears of sorrow and chagrin”
On the double standard regarding prostitution and corruption of young girls:
“The men whose money sustains their houses, supplies their tawdry clothing and provides them with intoxicating drinks and drugs, are never arrested, nor indeed are they even considered lawbreakers.”
When reading this, I can’t help but think of two of the strongest females I have ever met, my grandmother and my wife.
It is a wonderfully satire on the women suffrage movement. I read it last night and was giggling the entire time. Her satire and cuts at the male dominated society are that great.
I can’t wait to use this in class next year.
Addams’ has a brilliant knack for turning the tables on her opponents. The main point of her article is to suppose what would happen if women ran things rather than men. Through this she expertly reveals all of the ludicrous and vile practices of the dominant male culture.
Here is one of my favorite quotes –
On their fascination with war and spending:
“Every time a gun is fired in a battleship it extends, or rather explodes, seventeen hundred dollars, as much a college education costs many a country boy, and yet you would be firing off these guns as mere salutes, with no enemy within three thousand miles, simply because you so enjoy the sound of shooting.”
On the need for safe practices on farms and health laws in industries:
“We have also heard that in certain States, in order to save the paltry price of a guard which would protect a dangerous machine, men legislators allow careless boys and girls to lose their fingers and sometimes their hands, thereby crippling their entire futures.”
“. . . that the average loss of life among the structural-iron workers who erect the huge office buildings and bridges is as disastrous in percentages as was the loss of life in the Battle of Bull Run. When the returns of this battle were reported to President Lincoln he burst into tears of sorrow and chagrin”
On the double standard regarding prostitution and corruption of young girls:
“The men whose money sustains their houses, supplies their tawdry clothing and provides them with intoxicating drinks and drugs, are never arrested, nor indeed are they even considered lawbreakers.”
When reading this, I can’t help but think of two of the strongest females I have ever met, my grandmother and my wife.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Well worth checking out
Here is another blog well worth checking out.
http://www.safety-lady1.blogspot.com/
You won't be disappointed.
http://www.safety-lady1.blogspot.com/
You won't be disappointed.
Reading for today
I'm bogged down in the readings for Thursday. I didn't get a list of what to read and what not to, so I've been hit and miss. I read what looks interesting and avoid the boring stuff.
One of the best pieces I've read for this was Frederic Thompson's "Amusing the Millions." Unfortunately, it was cut from the to read list.
I am really struggling with today's readings. A lot is focused on the political parties and socialism. I'd just as soon have the skin peeled from eyes than read this stuff. So I didn't. Plus, a lot of the readings were extremely long, 15 plus pages and so on.
However, I did especially like Frank Norris' short story "The Octopus" on the conflict between ranchers and the rail road.
One of the best pieces I've read for this was Frederic Thompson's "Amusing the Millions." Unfortunately, it was cut from the to read list.
I am really struggling with today's readings. A lot is focused on the political parties and socialism. I'd just as soon have the skin peeled from eyes than read this stuff. So I didn't. Plus, a lot of the readings were extremely long, 15 plus pages and so on.
However, I did especially like Frank Norris' short story "The Octopus" on the conflict between ranchers and the rail road.
Primetime episode on China last night
Last night I caught a bit of the Primetime episode devoted to China’s rise that will culminate in the 2008 Olympics.
Some interesting tidbits.
No country in the world has risen to such a standard of power like China since the US surpassed Britain as a world power in the 19th century. In one day China now exports more in one day than China did in the entire year of 1978.
China owns 1 trillion dollars of our debt.
China and the US need each other. We buy so much of their exports. Eighty five percent of all Walmart products are made in China.
Other things brought up during our discussion today –
150,000 Chinese women commit suicide per year.
There is still vast economic and social disparity.
Many lower class workers work 364 days a year.
China now is starting to outsource some of their factories seeking even cheaper labor!
40,000 civic uprisings were put down in China last year with military force.
There are some very interesting ideas in there.
Some interesting tidbits.
No country in the world has risen to such a standard of power like China since the US surpassed Britain as a world power in the 19th century. In one day China now exports more in one day than China did in the entire year of 1978.
China owns 1 trillion dollars of our debt.
China and the US need each other. We buy so much of their exports. Eighty five percent of all Walmart products are made in China.
Other things brought up during our discussion today –
150,000 Chinese women commit suicide per year.
There is still vast economic and social disparity.
Many lower class workers work 364 days a year.
China now is starting to outsource some of their factories seeking even cheaper labor!
40,000 civic uprisings were put down in China last year with military force.
There are some very interesting ideas in there.
WWJD
That is the title of one of the most powerful young adult stories I have ever read. It also happens to be by a former college instructor of mine, Will Weaver. Mandy, who teachers over at the ALC, gave me a copy of it. I have not been so bowled like I was by that story in a very long time.
Will's work came up in the MNHS class today - namely his stories "A Gravestone Made of Wheat" and "Dispersal" from his short story collection called "A Gravestone Made of Wheat." I mentioned how great "WWJD" was. With some downtime, I decided to type it in on google and see what came up.
Did I get surprise, for this youtube video of it came up. While this is losely based on the story, I thought it would be a great idea to have students create youtube videos for the stories we read (isn't it incredible that we teach in a time when such things are possible. Well, youtube is blocked at our school but we know a way around that and our network supervisor doesn't get worked up about it).
I'm already envisioning what my students could do with such stories as "The Masque of the Red Death," "A Rose for Emily," "The Lottery," "Young Goodman Brown," and so on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6RqcGAJ0jA
Will's work came up in the MNHS class today - namely his stories "A Gravestone Made of Wheat" and "Dispersal" from his short story collection called "A Gravestone Made of Wheat." I mentioned how great "WWJD" was. With some downtime, I decided to type it in on google and see what came up.
Did I get surprise, for this youtube video of it came up. While this is losely based on the story, I thought it would be a great idea to have students create youtube videos for the stories we read (isn't it incredible that we teach in a time when such things are possible. Well, youtube is blocked at our school but we know a way around that and our network supervisor doesn't get worked up about it).
I'm already envisioning what my students could do with such stories as "The Masque of the Red Death," "A Rose for Emily," "The Lottery," "Young Goodman Brown," and so on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6RqcGAJ0jA
This piece comes from “The School Days of an Indian Girl” by Zitkala-Sa, who suffered through the horrors of the Indian boarding schools. Those schools are notorious for dehumanizing the natives and forcing the dominant white culture’s religion and beliefs upon the children.
For years I have been fascinated about how different cultures view evil, or the devil. I originally wanted to write my thesis on this, but it horrified my mother – a strong Catholic – so I didn’t. But it has not ceased to fascinate me.
This entry details how Zitkala discovered “the devil.” I can’t help but wonder why we would want to expose a child to such a thing. I love the line below about how this girl was taught about evil spirits – just as she was taught to fear those no less than real people who were evil.
As I read this, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of these poor children found those who tried to convert them to Christianity found those people the real evil spirits (such as ministers or priests who are pedophiles or abusive).
Zitkala-Sa. The School Days of an Indian Girl
THE DEVIL.
Among the legends the old warriors used to tell me were many stories of evil spirits. But I was taught to fear them no more than those who stalked about in material guise. I never knew there was an insolent chieftain among the bad spirits, who dared to array his forces against the Great Spirit, until I heard this white man's legend from a paleface woman.
Out of a large book she showed me a picture of the white man's devil. I looked in horror upon the strong claws that grew out of his fur-covered fingers. His feet were like his hands. Trailing at his heels was a scaly tail tipped with a serpent's open jaws. His face was a patchwork: he had bearded cheeks, like some I had seen palefaces wear; his nose was an eagle's bill, and his sharp-pointed ears were pricked up like those of a sly fox. Above them a pair of cow's horns curved upward. I trembled with awe, and my heart throbbed in my throat, as I looked at the king of evil spirits. Then I heard the paleface woman say that this terrible creature roamed loose in the world, and that little girls who disobeyed school regulations were to be tortured by him.
That night I dreamt about this evil divinity. Once again I seemed to be in my mother's cottage. An Indian woman had come to visit my mother. On opposite sides of the kitchen stove, which stood in the centre of the small house, my mother and her guest were seated in straight-backed chairs. I played with a train of empty spools hitched together on a string. It was night, and the wick burned feebly. Suddenly I heard some one turn our door-knob from without.
My mother and the woman hushed their talk, and both looked toward the door. It opened gradually. I waited behind the stove. The hinges squeaked as the door was slowly, very slowly pushed inward.
Then in rushed the devil! He was tall! He looked exactly like the picture I had seen of him in the white man's papers. he did not speak to my mother, because he did not know the Indian language, but his glittering yellow eyes were fastened upon me. He took long strides around the stove, passing behind the woman's chair. I threw down my spools, and ran to my mother. He did not fear her, but followed closely after me. Then I ran round and round the stove, crying aloud for help. But my mother and the woman seemed not to know my danger. They sat still, looking quietly upon the devil's chase after me. At last I grew dizzy. My head revolved as on a hidden pivot. My knees became numb, and doubled under my weight like a pair of knife blades without a spring. Beside my mother's chair I fell in a heap. Just as the devil stooped over me with outstretched claws my mother awoke from her quiet indifference, and lifted me on her lap. Whereupon the devil vanished, and I was awake.
On the following morning I took my revenge upon the devil. Stealing into the room where a wall of shelves was filled with books, I drew forth The Stories of the Bible. With a broken slate pencil I carried in my apron pocket, I began by scratching out his wicked eyes. A few moments later, when I was ready to leave the room, there was a ragged hole in the page where the picture of the devil had once been.
What an image!
This tale reminds me about the time Kristie’s father left the Catholic church as a child in Grand Forks. In elementary school he asked one of his teachers, who I believe was a nun, about where everyone came from in Genesis, for he wanted a better explanation than the one offered in the text. She beat him and took him to the priest who also beat him who took him to the next higher up and beat him again.
The one thing Ed loved about the school was the choir. But because of his inquisitive mind, he was kicked out of it.
After that he skipped class and went to the movies. While he endured Catholic school, he faith was shaken.
I can’t say I blame him.
Unfortunately, that was the standard for what happened in Indian boarding schools. I never realized how much it happened in other schools.
Or how about the infamous “vampire” priest from Alaska (who apparently promised to suck certain bodily fluids out of one construction worker over whom the priest had some power, but the worker happened to record the conversation and turned it over to a paper) who served as my high school principal for several years? What other damage had he done in his years in Red Lake Falls or Warroad?
I like the idea of how Jodie Foster, an atheist, is raising her children. She is exposing them to all different kinds of faith – rather than indoctrinating them into her beliefs like most of us do – and the children will have the right to choose – and think – for themselves.
In a way Mom and Dad did this with me. Now, my mom was a devout Catholic, we often went to church, but not - pardon the pun - religiously (couldn't resist) and in later years we tended to be the Thanksgiving, Easter and Christmas mass attending Catholics. But Mom fought for the church fiercely. I remember coming home from BSU after having studied the Spanish Inquisition and all the atrocities the church practiced on 'pagans' (non-Catholics) or the scandals in the papacy. Mom never backed down, always maintaining that humans were prone to sin and evil, but God and His love were not.
I couldn't argue with that.
Dad, a life long southern Baptist, allowed us to be raised Catholic in order to marry Mom. He often attended Catholic mass with us, though he never took communion. However, he too was not a regular in church, preferring his truck or fields to the church.
There was even a time when we attended a Lutheran church in Mentor for awhile. I never realized it was a Lutheran mass until years later. My first clue, though, when something was different (not that the minister having his wife there or playing the guitar or lack of kneeling, standing, kneeling, standing or the lack of stained glass and so on should have clued me in) occurred when instead of getting up and taking communion from the priest, the bread was passed around as was the wine, which came in these handy dandy glass coffee syrup dose size containers (which was fine with me. I was never big on drinking from the same cup as most of the congregation). Mom never fussed about this.
I think they believed that a church was better than no church.
I couldn't argue with that either.
For years I have been fascinated about how different cultures view evil, or the devil. I originally wanted to write my thesis on this, but it horrified my mother – a strong Catholic – so I didn’t. But it has not ceased to fascinate me.
This entry details how Zitkala discovered “the devil.” I can’t help but wonder why we would want to expose a child to such a thing. I love the line below about how this girl was taught about evil spirits – just as she was taught to fear those no less than real people who were evil.
As I read this, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of these poor children found those who tried to convert them to Christianity found those people the real evil spirits (such as ministers or priests who are pedophiles or abusive).
Zitkala-Sa. The School Days of an Indian Girl
THE DEVIL.
Among the legends the old warriors used to tell me were many stories of evil spirits. But I was taught to fear them no more than those who stalked about in material guise. I never knew there was an insolent chieftain among the bad spirits, who dared to array his forces against the Great Spirit, until I heard this white man's legend from a paleface woman.
Out of a large book she showed me a picture of the white man's devil. I looked in horror upon the strong claws that grew out of his fur-covered fingers. His feet were like his hands. Trailing at his heels was a scaly tail tipped with a serpent's open jaws. His face was a patchwork: he had bearded cheeks, like some I had seen palefaces wear; his nose was an eagle's bill, and his sharp-pointed ears were pricked up like those of a sly fox. Above them a pair of cow's horns curved upward. I trembled with awe, and my heart throbbed in my throat, as I looked at the king of evil spirits. Then I heard the paleface woman say that this terrible creature roamed loose in the world, and that little girls who disobeyed school regulations were to be tortured by him.
That night I dreamt about this evil divinity. Once again I seemed to be in my mother's cottage. An Indian woman had come to visit my mother. On opposite sides of the kitchen stove, which stood in the centre of the small house, my mother and her guest were seated in straight-backed chairs. I played with a train of empty spools hitched together on a string. It was night, and the wick burned feebly. Suddenly I heard some one turn our door-knob from without.
My mother and the woman hushed their talk, and both looked toward the door. It opened gradually. I waited behind the stove. The hinges squeaked as the door was slowly, very slowly pushed inward.
Then in rushed the devil! He was tall! He looked exactly like the picture I had seen of him in the white man's papers. he did not speak to my mother, because he did not know the Indian language, but his glittering yellow eyes were fastened upon me. He took long strides around the stove, passing behind the woman's chair. I threw down my spools, and ran to my mother. He did not fear her, but followed closely after me. Then I ran round and round the stove, crying aloud for help. But my mother and the woman seemed not to know my danger. They sat still, looking quietly upon the devil's chase after me. At last I grew dizzy. My head revolved as on a hidden pivot. My knees became numb, and doubled under my weight like a pair of knife blades without a spring. Beside my mother's chair I fell in a heap. Just as the devil stooped over me with outstretched claws my mother awoke from her quiet indifference, and lifted me on her lap. Whereupon the devil vanished, and I was awake.
On the following morning I took my revenge upon the devil. Stealing into the room where a wall of shelves was filled with books, I drew forth The Stories of the Bible. With a broken slate pencil I carried in my apron pocket, I began by scratching out his wicked eyes. A few moments later, when I was ready to leave the room, there was a ragged hole in the page where the picture of the devil had once been.
What an image!
This tale reminds me about the time Kristie’s father left the Catholic church as a child in Grand Forks. In elementary school he asked one of his teachers, who I believe was a nun, about where everyone came from in Genesis, for he wanted a better explanation than the one offered in the text. She beat him and took him to the priest who also beat him who took him to the next higher up and beat him again.
The one thing Ed loved about the school was the choir. But because of his inquisitive mind, he was kicked out of it.
After that he skipped class and went to the movies. While he endured Catholic school, he faith was shaken.
I can’t say I blame him.
Unfortunately, that was the standard for what happened in Indian boarding schools. I never realized how much it happened in other schools.
Or how about the infamous “vampire” priest from Alaska (who apparently promised to suck certain bodily fluids out of one construction worker over whom the priest had some power, but the worker happened to record the conversation and turned it over to a paper) who served as my high school principal for several years? What other damage had he done in his years in Red Lake Falls or Warroad?
I like the idea of how Jodie Foster, an atheist, is raising her children. She is exposing them to all different kinds of faith – rather than indoctrinating them into her beliefs like most of us do – and the children will have the right to choose – and think – for themselves.
In a way Mom and Dad did this with me. Now, my mom was a devout Catholic, we often went to church, but not - pardon the pun - religiously (couldn't resist) and in later years we tended to be the Thanksgiving, Easter and Christmas mass attending Catholics. But Mom fought for the church fiercely. I remember coming home from BSU after having studied the Spanish Inquisition and all the atrocities the church practiced on 'pagans' (non-Catholics) or the scandals in the papacy. Mom never backed down, always maintaining that humans were prone to sin and evil, but God and His love were not.
I couldn't argue with that.
Dad, a life long southern Baptist, allowed us to be raised Catholic in order to marry Mom. He often attended Catholic mass with us, though he never took communion. However, he too was not a regular in church, preferring his truck or fields to the church.
There was even a time when we attended a Lutheran church in Mentor for awhile. I never realized it was a Lutheran mass until years later. My first clue, though, when something was different (not that the minister having his wife there or playing the guitar or lack of kneeling, standing, kneeling, standing or the lack of stained glass and so on should have clued me in) occurred when instead of getting up and taking communion from the priest, the bread was passed around as was the wine, which came in these handy dandy glass coffee syrup dose size containers (which was fine with me. I was never big on drinking from the same cup as most of the congregation). Mom never fussed about this.
I think they believed that a church was better than no church.
I couldn't argue with that either.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Giddy
I have been feeling absolutely giddy lately. Of course, Kristie and Kenzie are the main reasons. Last night Kristie had me feel her stomach where Kenzie was basically doing some aerobics, for she kicked or punched (and maybe both) steady for at least ten minutes. She is getting so big now that you can literally see Kristie's stomach move from her efforts.
That is one of the most amazing experiences. Just beneath the flesh is a little life beating and pounding and thumping away.
As I said earlier, Kristie has MUCH to do with my giddiness. I think this stanza from a poem I wrote her last year sums it up best --
A sliver of her smile
is a lesson in gravity
as something in my chest
strives to soar
in spite of the universe
bearing down on me.
Of course,
it is gravity -
or rather she -
that saves me
reminding my heart
that though it is seeks to soar
it cannot break free.
Now with someone who makes you feel like that, how could one NOT be giddy.
Then there are the simple pleasures. Like tonight - where we are just sitting out on the patio with a fire and the dogs. Kristie is reading while I read some and blog some. There is hardly a breeze, yet it is cool. There are no bugs. Just the crackle of the fire and a few birds - even those noisy jays are absent.
Then there is football about to start. Last night we had our preseason meeting with the AD. Then the parents and athletes arrived.
When Jeff, Travis, and I met with the parents and players, I purposely tried not to size up any players, deciding to wait until well after the scrimmage - still a few weeks away yet - before forming any opinions on players.
Finally, there has been our MNHS class. It is to be our last with the scholars, Eric and Loeil. In a phrase, that sucks. But each class this week has been vital. I have learned so much not only from the scholars but the other teachers as well. Every teacher should be required to take part in something like this to continue teaching. I am rejuvenated for this fall.
Yes, life is pretty darn perfect right now.
That is one of the most amazing experiences. Just beneath the flesh is a little life beating and pounding and thumping away.
As I said earlier, Kristie has MUCH to do with my giddiness. I think this stanza from a poem I wrote her last year sums it up best --
A sliver of her smile
is a lesson in gravity
as something in my chest
strives to soar
in spite of the universe
bearing down on me.
Of course,
it is gravity -
or rather she -
that saves me
reminding my heart
that though it is seeks to soar
it cannot break free.
Now with someone who makes you feel like that, how could one NOT be giddy.
Then there are the simple pleasures. Like tonight - where we are just sitting out on the patio with a fire and the dogs. Kristie is reading while I read some and blog some. There is hardly a breeze, yet it is cool. There are no bugs. Just the crackle of the fire and a few birds - even those noisy jays are absent.
Then there is football about to start. Last night we had our preseason meeting with the AD. Then the parents and athletes arrived.
When Jeff, Travis, and I met with the parents and players, I purposely tried not to size up any players, deciding to wait until well after the scrimmage - still a few weeks away yet - before forming any opinions on players.
Finally, there has been our MNHS class. It is to be our last with the scholars, Eric and Loeil. In a phrase, that sucks. But each class this week has been vital. I have learned so much not only from the scholars but the other teachers as well. Every teacher should be required to take part in something like this to continue teaching. I am rejuvenated for this fall.
Yes, life is pretty darn perfect right now.
Another amazing story
Loeil shared a story about several ancestors on his mother's side. Apparently, he had two Norwegian relatives here, a father and his oldest son. Once they saved enough money, they sent money back to Norway for the remaining seven members of his family (his wife and children) to sail over.
He never knew what happened to them other than they died. There is no record here of them.
However, when he and his wife went to Norway, they found the rest of the story. Apparently, they drowned on a ship that hit a rock (the pilot neglected to alter his course from magnetic north to true north) in broad day light by England. The ship was terribly overcrowded with immigrants and nearly 500 died.
What makes this story even more terrible is that Loeil found an account in the Norway church records discussing a terrible the wife had prior to sailing. She had a nightmare in which she saw seven coffins floating on the Atlantic. Loeil was able to find an account of the shipwrecked people in which one of the survivors recounts seeing a mother and six children clinging to her and seeing them all go down together.
The father was never the same. He was a shattered man, as you can well imagine, for the rest of his life.
Loeil was able to find a book, originally published in Norway, detailing the tragedy, and even featuring the same family photo he had of his ancestors.
http://store.vesterheim.org/product_info.php?products_id=3487
He never knew what happened to them other than they died. There is no record here of them.
However, when he and his wife went to Norway, they found the rest of the story. Apparently, they drowned on a ship that hit a rock (the pilot neglected to alter his course from magnetic north to true north) in broad day light by England. The ship was terribly overcrowded with immigrants and nearly 500 died.
What makes this story even more terrible is that Loeil found an account in the Norway church records discussing a terrible the wife had prior to sailing. She had a nightmare in which she saw seven coffins floating on the Atlantic. Loeil was able to find an account of the shipwrecked people in which one of the survivors recounts seeing a mother and six children clinging to her and seeing them all go down together.
The father was never the same. He was a shattered man, as you can well imagine, for the rest of his life.
Loeil was able to find a book, originally published in Norway, detailing the tragedy, and even featuring the same family photo he had of his ancestors.
http://store.vesterheim.org/product_info.php?products_id=3487
Another interesting story
Believe it or not Omaha is pushing a plan to segregate schools! They are looking at establishing three different schools: white, black, and Latino.
http://news.ncmonline.com/news/view_article.html?article_id=712264ac354b2619d689aa3b9cc03a5a
Who would have ever thought this pendulum would ever swing back?
http://news.ncmonline.com/news/view_article.html?article_id=712264ac354b2619d689aa3b9cc03a5a
Who would have ever thought this pendulum would ever swing back?
Interesting Story
Today we are discussing documents focusing on the people of the Gilded Age.
We have read harrowing accounts of tenement life in New York, which I was familiar with thanks to Caleb Carr's The Alienist.
We read the cliche 'rags to riches' stories of Horatio Alger, such as "Ragged Dick" about a young boy who achieves the American Dream by working his way up from a shoe shine boy to a self-made man in New York. Alger is known for his unrealistic view of life.
I remarked how, after reading Carr's novel which details the child prostitute trade in New York at the time, that I kept waiting for something tragic to happen to the protagonist. However, in Alger's biased world, every adult sought to help Ragged Dick. I kept waiting for him to be abducted or beaten or worse.
A quick look up on Alger's biography reveals that it is strongly believed that he himself was a pedophile and was in trouble for grossly inappropriate behavior with young boys.
This afternoon we discussed the tragedy of the St. Louis, a boat of Jewish people, many children, fleeing Nazi Germany. However, they could not land in Cuba and they were turned away from America.
http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/article.php?ModuleId=10005267
One thing my students were shocked at when reading Night was how America didn't step in to do something about the holocaust.
I was always told that America just didn't know the extent of the tragedy. However, that might not be true. Even in America there was strong anti-Semitism. Not to mention that we would round up Japanese Americans and place them in camps.
I could only reply, "Why don't we do anything today about the holocausts in Darfur or Rwanda or Burma?"
We have read harrowing accounts of tenement life in New York, which I was familiar with thanks to Caleb Carr's The Alienist.
We read the cliche 'rags to riches' stories of Horatio Alger, such as "Ragged Dick" about a young boy who achieves the American Dream by working his way up from a shoe shine boy to a self-made man in New York. Alger is known for his unrealistic view of life.
I remarked how, after reading Carr's novel which details the child prostitute trade in New York at the time, that I kept waiting for something tragic to happen to the protagonist. However, in Alger's biased world, every adult sought to help Ragged Dick. I kept waiting for him to be abducted or beaten or worse.
A quick look up on Alger's biography reveals that it is strongly believed that he himself was a pedophile and was in trouble for grossly inappropriate behavior with young boys.
This afternoon we discussed the tragedy of the St. Louis, a boat of Jewish people, many children, fleeing Nazi Germany. However, they could not land in Cuba and they were turned away from America.
http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/article.php?ModuleId=10005267
One thing my students were shocked at when reading Night was how America didn't step in to do something about the holocaust.
I was always told that America just didn't know the extent of the tragedy. However, that might not be true. Even in America there was strong anti-Semitism. Not to mention that we would round up Japanese Americans and place them in camps.
I could only reply, "Why don't we do anything today about the holocausts in Darfur or Rwanda or Burma?"
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Powerful Painting
This is called "The Gross Clinic." It was painted by Thomas Eakins. In it professor Dr. Samuel Gross displays a medical procedure removing dead bone from a young man's leg while a group of students takes note and on a woman turns away in horror.
highlight from day #2
I find this paragraph fascinating from one of today’s reading called “The Principles of Scientific Management 1910” by Frederick Winslow Taylor –
“Perhaps the most prominent single element in modern scientific management is the task idea. The work of every workman is fully planned out by the management at least one day in advance, and each man receives in most cases complete written instructions, describing in detail the task which he is to accomplish, as well as the means to be used in doing the work. And the work planned in advance in this way constitutes a task which is to be solved, as explained above, not by the workman alone, but in almost all cases by the joint effort of the workman and the management. This task specifies not only what is to be done but how it is to be done and the exact time allowed for doing it. And whenever the workman succeeds in doing his task right, and within the time limit specified, he receives an addition of from 30 per cent. to 100 per cent. to his ordinary wages. These tasks are carefully planned, so that both good and careful work are called for in their performance, but it should be distinctly understood that in no case is the workman called upon to work at a pace which would be injurious to his health. The task is always so regulated that the man who is well suited to his job will thrive while working at this rate during a long term of years and grow happier and more prosperous, instead of being over- worked. Scientific management consists very largely in preparing for and carrying out these tasks. . . . “
This “task idea” is perfectly reflected in our school systems. No wonder our school systems are failing. We are operating our schools on a principle from 1910! I defy you to not read that paragraph and think about a lesson plan! Look at that second sentence – “The work (assignment) of every workman (student) is fully planned out by the management (teacher) at least one day in advance, and each man (student) receives in most cases complete written instructions (directions for the assignment), describing in detail the task which he is to accomplish, as well as the means to be used in doing the work.
Can you say Madaline Hunter? Or outcome based education?
So much for multi-tasking and creative problem solving strategies that so many of our students lack upon graduation!
“Perhaps the most prominent single element in modern scientific management is the task idea. The work of every workman is fully planned out by the management at least one day in advance, and each man receives in most cases complete written instructions, describing in detail the task which he is to accomplish, as well as the means to be used in doing the work. And the work planned in advance in this way constitutes a task which is to be solved, as explained above, not by the workman alone, but in almost all cases by the joint effort of the workman and the management. This task specifies not only what is to be done but how it is to be done and the exact time allowed for doing it. And whenever the workman succeeds in doing his task right, and within the time limit specified, he receives an addition of from 30 per cent. to 100 per cent. to his ordinary wages. These tasks are carefully planned, so that both good and careful work are called for in their performance, but it should be distinctly understood that in no case is the workman called upon to work at a pace which would be injurious to his health. The task is always so regulated that the man who is well suited to his job will thrive while working at this rate during a long term of years and grow happier and more prosperous, instead of being over- worked. Scientific management consists very largely in preparing for and carrying out these tasks. . . . “
This “task idea” is perfectly reflected in our school systems. No wonder our school systems are failing. We are operating our schools on a principle from 1910! I defy you to not read that paragraph and think about a lesson plan! Look at that second sentence – “The work (assignment) of every workman (student) is fully planned out by the management (teacher) at least one day in advance, and each man (student) receives in most cases complete written instructions (directions for the assignment), describing in detail the task which he is to accomplish, as well as the means to be used in doing the work.
Can you say Madaline Hunter? Or outcome based education?
So much for multi-tasking and creative problem solving strategies that so many of our students lack upon graduation!
Big Business
Our readings for day #2 focuses on the burgeoning big business and industries in America. Eric mentioned on day one how he saw this period as a great time of hope. However, I saw it as a dark time. Sure, America had hope and inspiration in all of its new power and discoveries and resources, but I look at this time period knowing that WWI is looming as is the depression.
The big businesses will exploit the poor and pollute and corrupt government, a la "The Jungle."
Loeil brought this point home when he talked about how this happened at Marvin's Windows in Warroad. Apparently, some years ago they were storing some chemicals in a storage shed next to the river which fed into the lake, which is absolutely vital to the tourism that sustains Warroad.
However, when the MN department of pollution realized this, they fined them several thousand dollars.
What was the response from Big Business?
"We will never build another building in MN nor will we expand."
True to their word, they built a large facility in Grafton, ND and have expanded there.
So much for doing the right thing.
When did this sense of entitlement occur? When did Big Business just start believing they could do whatever they wanted without regard to the well fare of society or the rules?
They developed this idea during the Guilded Age time period we are studying now.
The big businesses will exploit the poor and pollute and corrupt government, a la "The Jungle."
Loeil brought this point home when he talked about how this happened at Marvin's Windows in Warroad. Apparently, some years ago they were storing some chemicals in a storage shed next to the river which fed into the lake, which is absolutely vital to the tourism that sustains Warroad.
However, when the MN department of pollution realized this, they fined them several thousand dollars.
What was the response from Big Business?
"We will never build another building in MN nor will we expand."
True to their word, they built a large facility in Grafton, ND and have expanded there.
So much for doing the right thing.
When did this sense of entitlement occur? When did Big Business just start believing they could do whatever they wanted without regard to the well fare of society or the rules?
They developed this idea during the Guilded Age time period we are studying now.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Next Project?
For years Loeil has been hounding me to write a book on what was known as the Crookston Cattle Co.
And for years I put this off. Mostly because I was lazy and not really interested in the idea. However, when you are young you tend not to be all that interested in history, even when you are intimately tied to it. Plus, I had heard for years from Dad stories about the Crookston Cattle Co., so it was somewhat redundant.
Of course, the irony is - now that Dad is gone, so too is my real link to the story.
You see, the Crookston Cattle Co. - or Minn Tex Meadows as it used to be called or so I believe - is how I ended up in Minnesota.
The story goes like this -- Years ago my grandfather, Cyrus, owned a sheep ranch in Texas. Somehow he knew an individual by the name of Bascom Giles, http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/VV/mqv1.html.
Giles happened to be the land commissioner of Texas. According to legend, and Dad always swore by this, Giles and several other powerful politicians in Texas swindled black veterans out of their money from the Veteran's Land Act. According to Dad, Giles and several others threw a large barbecue and invited as many black - and illiterate - veterans as they could. In order to get a plate, they had to sign a piece of paper, this was then used to swindle them out of their land.
Apparently, once the scam was complete, Giles and co. wanted to procure some land as far away from Texas as possible so as to not incite any interest and bring the authorities down on their heads.
So they bought a considerable amount of land in Minnesota.
Giles found a man to run and manage cattle on the property. However, in addition to cattle, he also wanted to run several thousand head of sheep. This is where Cyrus, my grandfather comes in. Giles needed someone to oversee the sheep on the property, so he offered the position to my grandfather.
My grandfather accepted and ended up getting a small farm right next to the Minn-Tex Meadows. This of course is the reason my father came from Texas to Minnesota.
Of course, Giles ended up getting caught. My father always liked to tell how he and his father visited Giles in prison. Giles sent a large black Cadillac to pick up my dad and grandfather and bring them to the prison. Dad recalled how nervous Giles seemed - Dad always thought he was scared that someone might want to have him eliminated because of all he knew; however, Giles took the fall for the entire operation and kept some other very powerful men from the same fate. Dad also recalled how Giles laughed and referred to his incarceration and "working some overtime."
Eventually, the land was sold and has gone through a variety of stages and owners. It was Minn-Tex meadows then the Crookston Cattle Co then Tillden Farms and now it is part of the Glacial Ridge Project. I'm sure I'm missing some other owners and stages in there was well.
Oh yeah, somehow Lady Bird Johnson is supposedly tied up in this whole affair. Now Dad vehemently denied this. However, the more people I talk to, the more this seems like a legitimate possibility. Maybe she -- or maybe her husband, who kept some of his sordid affairs under his wife's name -- was one of the bigwigs that Giles kept quiet about.
Eventually, my grandfather quiet working with Giles and just ran his own small farm, which Dad inherited. In the early 80's Dad sold the property to Tillden Farms and bought the farm I grew up on just north of Marcouix Corner.
Quite an interesting tale I think. Is there a book in there? I don't know. So many of the key players are no dead. But I think it would at least make a very good topic of conversation and research when (and if) we ever get to accompany Barb and her family down for the Reynolds family reunion in Texas.
Here are some links on the controversy. I never realized it was such a big deal. Apparently, the local reporter who broke the story ended up earning a Pulitzer. Quite intriguing indeed.
A link to the scandal and its fallout from Time magazine.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,861316,00.html
Here's another story from Time
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,807395,00.html
Here is a link connecting Giles to Crookston MN.
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/fea/texasliving/columnists/kbiffle/stories/050105dnlivbiffle.5e762e2f.html
And for years I put this off. Mostly because I was lazy and not really interested in the idea. However, when you are young you tend not to be all that interested in history, even when you are intimately tied to it. Plus, I had heard for years from Dad stories about the Crookston Cattle Co., so it was somewhat redundant.
Of course, the irony is - now that Dad is gone, so too is my real link to the story.
You see, the Crookston Cattle Co. - or Minn Tex Meadows as it used to be called or so I believe - is how I ended up in Minnesota.
The story goes like this -- Years ago my grandfather, Cyrus, owned a sheep ranch in Texas. Somehow he knew an individual by the name of Bascom Giles, http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/VV/mqv1.html.
Giles happened to be the land commissioner of Texas. According to legend, and Dad always swore by this, Giles and several other powerful politicians in Texas swindled black veterans out of their money from the Veteran's Land Act. According to Dad, Giles and several others threw a large barbecue and invited as many black - and illiterate - veterans as they could. In order to get a plate, they had to sign a piece of paper, this was then used to swindle them out of their land.
Apparently, once the scam was complete, Giles and co. wanted to procure some land as far away from Texas as possible so as to not incite any interest and bring the authorities down on their heads.
So they bought a considerable amount of land in Minnesota.
Giles found a man to run and manage cattle on the property. However, in addition to cattle, he also wanted to run several thousand head of sheep. This is where Cyrus, my grandfather comes in. Giles needed someone to oversee the sheep on the property, so he offered the position to my grandfather.
My grandfather accepted and ended up getting a small farm right next to the Minn-Tex Meadows. This of course is the reason my father came from Texas to Minnesota.
Of course, Giles ended up getting caught. My father always liked to tell how he and his father visited Giles in prison. Giles sent a large black Cadillac to pick up my dad and grandfather and bring them to the prison. Dad recalled how nervous Giles seemed - Dad always thought he was scared that someone might want to have him eliminated because of all he knew; however, Giles took the fall for the entire operation and kept some other very powerful men from the same fate. Dad also recalled how Giles laughed and referred to his incarceration and "working some overtime."
Eventually, the land was sold and has gone through a variety of stages and owners. It was Minn-Tex meadows then the Crookston Cattle Co then Tillden Farms and now it is part of the Glacial Ridge Project. I'm sure I'm missing some other owners and stages in there was well.
Oh yeah, somehow Lady Bird Johnson is supposedly tied up in this whole affair. Now Dad vehemently denied this. However, the more people I talk to, the more this seems like a legitimate possibility. Maybe she -- or maybe her husband, who kept some of his sordid affairs under his wife's name -- was one of the bigwigs that Giles kept quiet about.
Eventually, my grandfather quiet working with Giles and just ran his own small farm, which Dad inherited. In the early 80's Dad sold the property to Tillden Farms and bought the farm I grew up on just north of Marcouix Corner.
Quite an interesting tale I think. Is there a book in there? I don't know. So many of the key players are no dead. But I think it would at least make a very good topic of conversation and research when (and if) we ever get to accompany Barb and her family down for the Reynolds family reunion in Texas.
Here are some links on the controversy. I never realized it was such a big deal. Apparently, the local reporter who broke the story ended up earning a Pulitzer. Quite intriguing indeed.
A link to the scandal and its fallout from Time magazine.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,861316,00.html
Here's another story from Time
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,807395,00.html
Here is a link connecting Giles to Crookston MN.
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/fea/texasliving/columnists/kbiffle/stories/050105dnlivbiffle.5e762e2f.html
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Winding Down
Now that summer is winding down, there is a rush to get things wrapped up. Today I spent a couple hours helping Kristie prime Kenzie's room. However, when the fumes became too strong, Kristie turned everything over to me, which is always risky.
Initially, I planned to just prime the closet, but I ended up doing most of the room once Kristie felt light headed. But I enjoyed getting my little girl's room ready. I can't wait to see her in it.
Kristie is anxiously counting down the remaining 56 days. She is tired of not being able to do many of the things she used to. Plus, she has an acute pain in her back that makes sitting or lying in any one position too long very uncomfortable.
Fifty six days? It doesn't seem real!
***
We spent Saturday cheering Casey on at his paintball tournament in Bemidji. The tournament was held at the fair. But since it was pretty tame - KoKo had hopes of riding some rides, but the big ride there was the ferris wheel - we didn't spend a lot of time on the fairgrounds.
Bemidji had their crazy days too. We decided to avoid the mall and venture downtown instead. However, the things on sale downtown were 'rummage saleish' so we didn't waste much time there.
On the positive side, Casey had a really good time. His team fell just short of qualifying for the finals, but they were light years ahead of where they were last year.
****
Tomorrow I start my MNHS class at the gorgeous Swenson house in TRF. I have the readings for day #1 finished. I was quite pleased since there were several fiction pieces in it. I also started the readings for day #2. These were even better.
I can't wait for class.
Initially, I planned to just prime the closet, but I ended up doing most of the room once Kristie felt light headed. But I enjoyed getting my little girl's room ready. I can't wait to see her in it.
Kristie is anxiously counting down the remaining 56 days. She is tired of not being able to do many of the things she used to. Plus, she has an acute pain in her back that makes sitting or lying in any one position too long very uncomfortable.
Fifty six days? It doesn't seem real!
***
We spent Saturday cheering Casey on at his paintball tournament in Bemidji. The tournament was held at the fair. But since it was pretty tame - KoKo had hopes of riding some rides, but the big ride there was the ferris wheel - we didn't spend a lot of time on the fairgrounds.
Bemidji had their crazy days too. We decided to avoid the mall and venture downtown instead. However, the things on sale downtown were 'rummage saleish' so we didn't waste much time there.
On the positive side, Casey had a really good time. His team fell just short of qualifying for the finals, but they were light years ahead of where they were last year.
****
Tomorrow I start my MNHS class at the gorgeous Swenson house in TRF. I have the readings for day #1 finished. I was quite pleased since there were several fiction pieces in it. I also started the readings for day #2. These were even better.
I can't wait for class.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
August
Well, if you thought you had a lot of summer left, here's something to consider: tomorrow night will mark the first football game, the Hall of Fame game. Sure, it's preseason. But when it's time for football, summer is on its way out.
This morning we are off to Bemidji, MN. Casey and his paintball team are in a tournament at the fair there.
I know they will fare much, much better than they did at the last tournament we attended.
I'm just glad the clouds are out and it's a cool morning in the low 60's. There was some talk of the 90's today, but it looks like, as usual, the forecasters were wrong. Mid to low 80's with plenty of clouds.
This morning we are off to Bemidji, MN. Casey and his paintball team are in a tournament at the fair there.
I know they will fare much, much better than they did at the last tournament we attended.
I'm just glad the clouds are out and it's a cool morning in the low 60's. There was some talk of the 90's today, but it looks like, as usual, the forecasters were wrong. Mid to low 80's with plenty of clouds.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Great Youtube video
Outside of the corny country music, this is pretty amazing.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=yNy9jTeolUk
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=yNy9jTeolUk
The dog down the block
Our redneck neighbor's two doors down have a dog.
Why?
God only knows. They never play with it or walk it.
It basically lives in a 4'x6' kennel. Sure, they put up a half-ass piece plywood to try and block the dog's view of the alley, so as to keep it from barking incessantly.
But that never works.
When we got up this morning (7:32 - I remember the exact time because I was suppose to set the alarm from the normal 7:00 am to 6:50 am so Kristie could get up early for work but while I changed the minutes, I neglected to alter the hour, so poor Kristie had all of 28 minutes to get ready, grab breakfast, and make it to work), the dog was already barking a non-stop stream of noise.
I think of the Oland's, our poor neighbors right next door to the rednecks. I'd go nuts. Or slip the dog some hamburger doused with anti-freeze. But I could never hurt an animal. I could run the owners through a wood chipper no problem. But I couldn't hurt the dog. I've often thought about taking Dad's old bolt cutter to the kennel's wire. But then in typical ironic fashion, I'd goof up (probably leave the bolt cutter right in our garage or my trunk or leave fingerprints everywhere) and I'd get caught and have to buy a new kennel!
But I did capture this evidence as I was trying to get a picture of our finished patio.
I thought about timing him and seeing how many barks per minute he averages.
I finally had enough, and with Kristie's prompting, I called the police and issued a report. We'll see how much good it did. The dispatcher sounded about as awake as a stone. After I'd recited my tale and all the pertinent information, he gurgled, "Uh, let me get a pen."
Isn't he a dispatcher? I'd figure he'd be accustom to writing complaints and notices down.
He informed me that they would likely have to wait until the owners got home. Then he said he wasn't sure where to put the warning (I thought about telling him "how about up your freakin' ass so you wake up," but I figured that wouldn't go over too well). "The back door would suffice," I said, figuring that my response covered both what I had really wanted to tell him and what he needed to know in order to get the complaint to the owners.
However, the dog has ceased its cacophony. The police must have called. I thought the wife worked, but apparently not. She must have let the dog in. Why she couldn't hear it barking for that past two hours is beyond me. I mean how loud do you have to have the TV on not to hear that? But the soaps won't be on for another couple hours, so who knows what she was doing. Maybe she has just zoned it out.
Nope. She must work because the dog just piped up again. The dog is obviously more intelligent than the owners for it sensed I called the police on it! But it couldn't stay quiet for long.
Why?
God only knows. They never play with it or walk it.
It basically lives in a 4'x6' kennel. Sure, they put up a half-ass piece plywood to try and block the dog's view of the alley, so as to keep it from barking incessantly.
But that never works.
When we got up this morning (7:32 - I remember the exact time because I was suppose to set the alarm from the normal 7:00 am to 6:50 am so Kristie could get up early for work but while I changed the minutes, I neglected to alter the hour, so poor Kristie had all of 28 minutes to get ready, grab breakfast, and make it to work), the dog was already barking a non-stop stream of noise.
I think of the Oland's, our poor neighbors right next door to the rednecks. I'd go nuts. Or slip the dog some hamburger doused with anti-freeze. But I could never hurt an animal. I could run the owners through a wood chipper no problem. But I couldn't hurt the dog. I've often thought about taking Dad's old bolt cutter to the kennel's wire. But then in typical ironic fashion, I'd goof up (probably leave the bolt cutter right in our garage or my trunk or leave fingerprints everywhere) and I'd get caught and have to buy a new kennel!
But I did capture this evidence as I was trying to get a picture of our finished patio.
I thought about timing him and seeing how many barks per minute he averages.
I finally had enough, and with Kristie's prompting, I called the police and issued a report. We'll see how much good it did. The dispatcher sounded about as awake as a stone. After I'd recited my tale and all the pertinent information, he gurgled, "Uh, let me get a pen."
Isn't he a dispatcher? I'd figure he'd be accustom to writing complaints and notices down.
He informed me that they would likely have to wait until the owners got home. Then he said he wasn't sure where to put the warning (I thought about telling him "how about up your freakin' ass so you wake up," but I figured that wouldn't go over too well). "The back door would suffice," I said, figuring that my response covered both what I had really wanted to tell him and what he needed to know in order to get the complaint to the owners.
However, the dog has ceased its cacophony. The police must have called. I thought the wife worked, but apparently not. She must have let the dog in. Why she couldn't hear it barking for that past two hours is beyond me. I mean how loud do you have to have the TV on not to hear that? But the soaps won't be on for another couple hours, so who knows what she was doing. Maybe she has just zoned it out.
Nope. She must work because the dog just piped up again. The dog is obviously more intelligent than the owners for it sensed I called the police on it! But it couldn't stay quiet for long.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)