KoKo's project

KoKo, ever the artist, had the assignment of creating a brochure focusing on the rainforest. It was due on a Tuesday. She began working on it the previous Friday!

Initially, she put about an hour into designing the cover and stenceling and coloring the artwork before discarding it.

Her second attempt was successful. But then she discovered that she drew the cover in the middle of brochure (she drew it on a normal, blank sheet of paper, but it would eventually have to be folded into thirds for the brochure) and had to scrap that one.

Finally, on Saturday, she got the design that she was happy with down and got it on the correct third of the brochure. Then she wrote in all the required information. However, when adding extra color, it became a bit blurry. So she decided to type the information up and tape it over the messy handwriting. This continued on through Sunday and into Monday evening.

Of course, the assignment was probably only worth a meager 15 or 20 points, but the assignment tapped into KoKo's love for art (it didn't hurt that boy in her class challenged her by stating that he was going to prove that he was a better artist than KoKo. THAT lit a fire under her!). I need to remember that with my own classes and assignments.

The front --


The rear --

Snow Fest

I used to hate the first few days of class where I didn’t know any students’ names and they didn’t know how to take me or what to think.

Now I’ve changed my mind. Over the years, I’ve decided that I like these first few days of classes the best. Yes, I only know a fraction of my students and they aren’t sure what to make either of my class or me.

However, I like not knowing, yet, who is apathetic or who flunked last quarter and is taking this class for the second time or who never hands in their assignments. Everyone still has that nice clean slate so to speak.

I wish I could keep it that way.

Of course, I do look forward to seeing my strong writers emerge, my struggling writers make progress, and getting to know all of them. But I must say that I enjoy looking at them and their work with a fresh set of eyes, rather than eyes tainted by disappointment and frustration, which will come in about three weeks.

*****

So far so good with my third block College Comp class. On the first day of class, I handed out the six page syllabus and the novels list hoping to scare a few into dropping (I end up having several who take it for non-college credit, which usually means they treat it like a normal, non-college class, which means they usually add very little to the class and end up doing poorly). What did this class do instead? First, I gave them time to search the internet for information on the books that look interesting to them. Then, they asked if they could go to the library and check them out.

I’m not kidding.

They came back with their books and were eager for more.

I about damn near fell over.

I’m not kidding.

So far so good. They are down watching the unicycle raise for snowfest as I type this. I look at their desks and see not only the course textbook but also their novels.

I’m not kidding.

This should be fun.

*****

My final class, Lit and Language 11, is a completely different story. I have 33 kids in it. My classroom is designed for about 22.

So far they are the total opposite of the previous L&L 11 class. I could turn them lose to work and I would feel confident in knowing that 60-70 percent of the class was working hard.

The numbers are the opposite for this class. One of the things that worked well last semester was when I gave the class a scavenger hunt or comiclife assignment to complete in the computer lab. But since we have about 22 working computers in there, I can’t do that with this class.

So what have I resorted to? I’m back to teaching like I did my first year (and that isn’t a good thing). It means this class is going to be the traditional lecture, notes, and read, and quiz/test format. What else can I do?

With this class’s personality, if I give them any time to work, they piss it away visiting. I’m not going to go nuts trying to keep 33 damn kids on task – not when there is another L&L 11 class with about 18 kids in it. I know some won’t fit in there because of their schedules, but did they have to load 33 kids into one class?

So I’m busy typing up notes and researching things like I haven’t done since my rookie year, but that’s fine. The students will fall into a rut and so will I. But that stinks. But that is public education for you.

Fall in line! Get those pencils ready! Today we take notes on plot and character. Then I’ll have them work a little on a reading assignment (no more than 20 minutes remember) about the Salem witch trials.

*****

Not to jinx it, but my junior class is actually working. Quietly.

*****

The Snowfest games in the gym went over pretty well. It was the most school spirit I had seen in quite some time. Of course, you always have the jack ass factor. Especially at the high school level. Sometimes when you walk in to school, you can just look around and see that some kids just don’t have a damn chance. Maybe it’s because their parents are drunks, molestors, or abusers. Maybe it’s because the kids themselves just don’t give a rat’s ass. Maybe it’s a combination. Maybe some are just wired all wrong.

I don’t know. But just walk down a hallway in a large school sometime and you’ll see what I mean.

Here’s an example. My task during the activity was to count the number of juniors who were wearing white (each class was assigned a color and earned points for dressing up in that color). Then the games began. Kids were cheering (the high point had to be the ping pong tournament. I haven’t heard kids cheer like that at any Pep Fest ever – and that includes trips to state by the football, hockey, wrestling, tennis, and swimmers) and getting into it.

Then I happened to notice, out of the corner of my eye, a water bottle fly up from one of the exits into the upper student section. Apparently, it struck a student near the eye. She was bawling. One of the teachers in charge of that area came down looking for witnesses. I told her what I knew and we walked over to the exit. One of my former students saw us there and told us the name of the student who chucked it. Of course, the name was synonymous with shithead. Big surprise.

After that I decided to stand down by the other exit. That was when a colleague came up to me and told me that she caught some students (also synonymous with shitheads) who, rather than partake in the activities with everyone else) actually hanging from the very nice and very expensive new lighting fixture in our main entrance (which has undergone a major renovation). Apparently, their hackies (a nearly sure fire sign for the aforementioned crapheads, along with a bong pipe and chains) were caught in the light and one had been hoisted on top of the shoulders of another and he was dangling from the light fixture when my colleague came across them.

But you can’t let a few ruin the best Snow fest games in quite some time.

It just saddens me to know that some of our kids just don’t have a damn chance. Most do. In fact, I have just been inundated with requests for letters of recommendations for many students who will do amazingly well.

But so many just are lost.

Every morning I try to listen to a podcast devoted to some aspect of education or teaching. This morning I tuned in to a discussion at Stanford about admission policies and how universities are just looking for 4.0 students. Then one of the presenters stated Stanford’s original mission statement concerning creating educated citizens who would not only take part in but lead their communities while also becoming leaders in their respective fields.

But so many are lost before they even get that chance.

Gail: Part 1

Paul’s funeral was Saturday morning in Mayville, ND. The little Lutheran church there (one of three churches on the way into Mayville) was 135 years old. It is quite beautiful. The altar and centerpiece (I’m lacking church terminology here) were gorgeous. Of course, you could tell that the original builders didn’t have much foresight, given that the stairways was tiny (they certainly were in better shape than those of us 135 years later) and the ceilings were quite low.

But the beautiful church capped a very nice little funeral. The most emotional part for me was when one of his daughter’s read a little note that her brother had recently written about going for walks with his father. As a child he held his father’s hand and felt reassured. Time separated them and made walks infrequent, but that reassurance never left him. It was quite powerful.

After the service, we went down for a nice lunch of three bean hotdish and scalloped potatoes and ham. Yum.

Then we went upstairs to admire the church in closer detail. That was when we looked at some of the flowers and plants sent from friends and family. Have lost both Mom and Dad in little over three years, I’m well aware of what a pain the flowers can be. We ended up donating most of the flowers to the nursing home after both funerals. Several people sent us plants instead of flowers. I like this much better. Flowers are temporary, but a good plant can last and it can serve as a little reminder of the loved one. However, if you are like me, and you don’t consistently water things, unless we received a cactus (which would have been fine by me), the plant’s chances of survival aren’t good. Overall, I think it is a beautiful gesture by family and friends, but it is just another thing the family has to deal with when there are much more pressing things to attend to.

We mentioned this to Gail, Kristie’s mother, and she thought it was a fine idea to go with a plant instead of flowers. But, if you know Gail, she has a way of doing things rather uniquely. This was no different.

As we walked to the front of the church, we all noted a rather large plant. It was so large in fact that it resembled a small tree of some sort. Want to guess who it was from?

Yep, Gail!

Since there are four children in her family, she figured she would spend $20 per child on the plant. Who ever heard of sending an $80 plant? Gail. That’s who!!!!

As Kristie said, most people would have sent smaller flowers – maybe four sets (one from each child). But no!

Gail called up and had an $80 plant delivered.

We had a good giggle over the size of the thing. Which suddenly made me feel like I was in the rain forest rather than the church’s sanctuary.
When it came time to leave, the family didn’t really have a need for the plant, so we offered to take it. Casey sheepishly grabbed it by its large metal base and carried it over to us.

“Bring in the Napalm,” I said. “It looks like he is in the jungles of Vietnam.”

At this Casey peered through the thick branches.

I couldn’t help but think, Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright in the forests of thine night.

Of course, Gail didn’t see what the big deal was. But we all had a great giggle out of it. Especially trying to fit the whole plant in the back of our Trailblazer. It’s a good thing we got rid of Kristie’s Seabring!

It was kind of a hazard on the way home, though, for I couldn’t see much out of the rear window.

It was so large, in fact, that Casey actually named it: Bulla, Bulla.

"Feed me, Seymour!!"




Trust me. If you know Gail at all, you are nodding along in agreement.

Kristie once wrote a phenomenal (and hilarious) essay on Gail for a college class. I’m going to transfer that to my blog (or her’s) on day. It will have you in tears.

I have always kept a list of Gail’s unique way of viewing the world in the back of my mind. I think it would make a hell of a book.

Here is another of my favorite Gail moments –

Buddy’s ‘final’ resting place. Buddy was Gail’s dog. He was ancient. I’m talking like 15 years old. Since Gail sold her home and moved in with Allen, she had to get rid o the dog (Allen didn’t want him for reasons I won’t get into). So Buddy came to live with us. But he was old. His legs didn’t work right. He had trouble going ot the bathroom. He was missing most of his teeth. Oh yeah, did I mention he was completely blind? Oh yeah, he navigated his way by trail and error – he would walk in circles that eventually grew larger and larger. When something got in his way, he just banged his head against it and tried to navigate around it.

Ultimately, though, he had to be put down. This was not easy for Gail. Although, Buddy was more of a nuisance for her too. She just didn’t really want to admit that. I think since Allen didn’t want her to have him, suddenly Buddy became more about a battle of wills than doing the right thing for the dog. He was, in a way, the last bit of Gail’s former home and life. And now, because of Allen, she had to get rid of it. So who could blame her for not really wanting to?

Finally, Gail consented and had the dog put down. But, and here comes that famous phrase, “you know Gail,” she couldn’t just have the vet clinic in GF bury him or cremate him. It seems they save all the dead animals until the end of the week and burn them together (I’m not kidding). They couldn’t assure Gail that she would get the correct ashes. At this point I’m thinking, why tell her that? Who cares? Empty out an ashtray of a car and hand it to her!

Instead, Gail picked the body up and kept it, sealed with duct tape, and adorned with the largest Christmas bow I have ever seen (don’t ask me why), in her car. Now most people would keep it in the trunk. But apparently she had too much stuff in there. So (insert our famous phrase here) she kept it in the backseat!!! I’m not kidding.

Now he is at rest – still in the container with the duct tape and bow – out at Allen’s farm.

Love This

Another great quote from The Dante Club, “The proof of poetry was . . . that it reduced to the essence of a single line the vague philosophy that floated in all men’s minds, so as to render it portable and useful, ready to the hand.” Matthew Pearl

First day, second semester

No time to blog: I’m grading my College Comp research papers. I have decided to mix them up to keep me sane. Every so often I have to sprinkle in the papers that I know will blow me over to keep my faith in my abilities to teach alive. I cannot tell you how many of the papers don’t even have works cited that are alphabetized!

Onward I grade.

*****

A great quote from the Dante Club, “’Till America has learned to live literature not as an amusement, not as mere doggerel to memorize in a college room, but for its humanizing and ennobling energy, my dear reverend president, she will not have succeeded in that high sense which alone makes a nation out of people. That which raises it from a dead name to a living power.” Matthew Pearl.

*****

I hate giving people bad news. I just had one College Comp student stop in for his research paper. It was an F. Mainly because he listed about 15 sources on his works cited, yet he only cited one of them in his paper. He wrote his paper on “Moby Dick,” yet he didn’t manage to reference that on the works cited either. His paper was interesting, but there was no organization to it at all. It would pain me more, but he was one who always thought he was so much smarter than everyone else and that deadlines and rough drafts weren’t necessary for him. Still, I didn’t derive any pleasure from his look of dismay at his grade.

Toy Story Part 2

Toy Story: Part 2

On the heels of my Star Wars love came a new rival: GI Joe, debuting in 1983, just as Lucas completed his Star Wars trilogy and released the toy line for the final film. By then I had tired somewhat of that line anyway.

Now, the original GI Joe ‘doll’ was maybe the first real action figure, but he was loooong before my time.

Dad or Mom would always need something from the large department store in Red Lake Falls, Hardware Hank, so they would drag me along (not wanting to leave me home alone – after I decided to turn Mom’s simmering stew on the stove into a ‘magic potion’ by pouring my sister’s conditioner into it, I was not left to my own devices again).

While Mom or Dad were searching for whatever they needed, I headed for the toy section. It mostly had the usual dull toys: Matchbox cars, Tonka trucks, and cheap plastic army soldiers and dinosaurs. But I noticed, sitting across on a shelf, something much more interesting. It was a box with the flowing GI JOE logo streaming across the top. Below it was a black tank blasting away at an unseen enemy why a bright red driver sat in the cockpit and a mysteriously masked commander blasted away with the laser cannon turret on top.

The clincher, though, was in the bottom right corner. There was a little clear compartment where you could see the driver of the vehicle. Then it hit me: This vehicle actually came with an action figure.

The Cobra HISS --





This concept was so incredible. I was hopping from foot to foot as I examined it. With the Star Wars vehicle line, they chose to package most action figures and vehicles separately. That meant you not only had to buy the figure but also the vehicle if you wanted to have a complete set. I would have gladly done this every time, but since I was barely 10 and had no income, I had to persuade Mom and Dad – and that wasn’t easy. I usually could convince them to get me an action figure on our trips to TRF or Crookston. Vehicles were usually reserved for birthdays or Christmas and Easter. But the odds of things working out so you ended up with the correct vehicle and the proper action figure that piloted it in the movie were not always good.

However, this new GI Joe line changed everything. The connection forged instantly in my mind: I can get an action figure and the vehicle all in one!

Of course, I was strategic about it all. With each trip to the store, I stalked it – I even had to resort to moving it from department to department so no other rival would spot it and ask their parents for it. Finally, I was able to convince Dad to get it for me.

The GI Joe toyline also contained something the Star Wars line neglected. When I opened the Cobra HISS box, not only did I get instructions and the stickers for the vehicle, but unlike the Star Wars toys, the Joes had a colored insert showing all of the other available toys and action figures. That was almost better than the toy itself. The toy I had was okay, but the other toys (and the more expensive ones) were even better.

I remember clearly putting the Cobra HISS vehicle together and setting it aside while I just read the advertisement over and over, imagining all the other toys I needed to accompany my initial purchase.

And so the floodgates were opened.

Other unique features about the GI Joe line were that each individual figure not only were much more flexible than the Star Wars line, but The Joes bent at the knees and elbows. Later figures would have rotating arms that allowed you to rotate them right about the bicep. Also the figures came with weapons that were much cooler than the Star Wars figures, where every figure basically had a blaster or light saber. With the Joes, most of the figures had weapons unique to each character's military specialty. There was a mine detector, so he came equiped with a back pack that held the mines as well as all the mine detecting equipment. The Ski trooper came with, of course, skis. There was a K9 trooper, so he came with a mutt. The possibilities were endless.

Some examples --

Tripwire



Snake Eyes (the coolest GI Joe figure - and the most mysterious)



Snake Eyes became so popular that once the cartoon series debuted, the creators decided to reveal more of his mysterious background. They released an updated figure, this one with a wolf hound that was his new companion.



On the back of each package the creators didn’t just show the other available action figures. Instead the back of each package included an identification card that listed key details and hints about the characters. These became as valuable as the characters! Since GI Joe wasn’t based on a film, they had much more flexibility about story lines and good guys and villains.







And maybe the greatest invention of the Joes was the battlepack.



The creators knew that the kids - like me - would inevitably lose the weapons. The Star Wars people never realized this. Or maybe the were just dirty capitalists and wanted the kids to buy a whole new figure. I can't tell you how long I had to play with my original Luke Skywalker using a yellow colored tooth pick inserted in his arm in place of the actual plastic lightsaber, which fell out after about a month of constant use.

Of course, one could not simply stockpile action figures without vehicles and bases. Here are some of my favorites.

The GI Joe jet -

Skystryker



The Mobat (the GI Joe tank) - this was one of the best Christmas presents ever.



The Rattler, The COBRA bomber.



These were perfectly tailored for my over active imagination. It wasn’t long, though, before the television series premiered after school – 3:30 sharp Monday through Friday – and my addiction was doubled.

It was not long before a comic book series appeared. This was beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I was triply addicted. And so passed the years of 1983-85.

Next up -- The coolest of all '80s toys: The Transformers!

One semester down

Since I am totally random abstract, my classes are often disjointed and messy. It’s not that I’m lazy or unprepared. It’s just that I’m prone to trying new things at any whim. For example, we have been reading Fahrenheit 451. I’ve been going over the key themes and ideas of the novel. Some of the things I’ve tried have worked - the Comiclife assignments and the ‘happiness’ essay I had them write to drive home the idea of flow being linked to happiness. Some things I wanted to try never got off the ground - I wanted to show episodes of Talk Soup or American Idol to drive home the point of the level of idiocy that is accepted in our society, bringing in current tabloids featuring our obsessions with Brittany Spears and Heath Ledger to drive home the same point. Some things that I didn’t even really plan have gone over better than anything I could ever have planned - since I have already given them their final test, I wasn’t sure what to do with the final two days. I could heap more work on them, but am I doing that to keep them busy or to really reinforce what they should have learned. I didn’t want to just take the last two days off so I wouldn’t have anything more to grade (and if I showed a film, I could actually get some other work done). So I decided to show the film “The Island,” which I usually use in my Science Fiction class.

By showing the film, I felt a little guilty. I would be giving them two days ‘off’ (although many are using it to get caught up on their final assignments). I would also have time to get other grading done. But I did feel that the film tied in perfectly to the themes and ideas of “451.”

I never would have expected the kids to love it this much. I mean they are enthralled - not just by the pretty actors and action packed plot - but also by the issues it raises (cloning, mind control, and an all-powerful state) and how it ties in to our novel. I could not have planned to conclude the unit in such a successful way. Go figure.

Even this morning, on the last day of class, we had a great little discussion about how the film ties into things going on in our culture right now - cloning embryos, the Chinese genetically engineering cats and pigs that glow in the dark, using cloned cattle for food, possibly using clones for organ transplants (fortuitously tying into a little sidetrack discussion about the young girl - from Australia I believe - who had an organ transplant and her body switched blood types to accommodate the new organ - and that has never happened in the history of our species before), and so on. What a day!

Now it has me thinking about how to tie more of this together. The Island ties in well with another film we watch called The Village. I use the latter film in conjunction with “Young Goodman Brown” and The Crucible. I also show an old Twilight Episode that deals with similar themes, The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. Of course, this ties in to “The Lottery,” which is one of the most powerful things we read all year. I just need a way to tie these all together better. I guess that’s what next semester is for.

Now my mind is really working overload. This thinking has got me digging for an old English Journal article about employing pop culture into the classroom. Just found it - it’s called “From Sheryl Crow to Homer Simpson: Literature and Composition through Pop Culture.” It is sort of like one assignment I thought up midway through “451” where I asked students to think of a song, film, or other book that relates to a theme from 451. The essays were very interesting. They weren’t especially well writing - we were crammed for time and I didn’t get a chance to walk them through the total writing process. But I will do better next time. An assignment like that would never have been possible in our former curriculum where Comp and Lit were two separate classes. The kids really got into it and brought up a lot of songs, films, and books I never thought of. Some, though, I did know and will try and use next time - “Another Brick in the Wall” by Pink Floyd and “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance and “Warning” by Green Day are just a couple examples. Now I’m thinking about how much The Island is like The Giver, which the kids read in Middle School. Could I use that as a base to begin the unit? I also know of a graphic novel, Oink that is absolutely bloody and disgusting, but it ties right into the same ideas. Again, how to tie this all together?

Who knows. But I like where it is going. It beats the hell out of - read the novel and write an essay at the end or complete this worksheet.

I'll try to contain my amazement . . .

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080123/ap_on_go_pr_wh/misinformation_study;_ylt=AkgrrowHiRwww8FSugJl2B2s0NUE

I'm afraid you'll have to copy and paste it. It's worth it, though.

It’s funny how one’s beliefs change. When Busch decided to declare war on Iraq, a friend and colleague, Dan Zubich, was livid. Rumsfeld and Busch were the main targets of his ire, namely that they were warmongers.

I steadfastly defended the Republicans, having voted for them the previous election. I guess I bought into the propaganda.

How right you were Zub. How right you were!

Nine Lives

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080123/ap_on_fe_st/odd_missing_cat;_ylt=AgZGtcLnWHkCMOdu2Avtjz.s0NUE

And we got worked up when Mischa was missing for four days! You'll have to copy and paste if the link below doesn't show up.

Final day of first semester

Where did half a year go?

My presentation(s) went very well. I was nervous, though. I can talk with ease in front of a class of 38 students, but it is a different story doing it in front of one's peers.

But I heard very positive things. I think they really enjoyed the Keynote slideshow I put together.

*****

Sadly, Kristie, Casey, KoKo, and I have yet another funeral to attend on Saturday. Kristie's uncle, Paul, had been diagnosed with mouth/throat cancer last year. He spent much of that time suffering. Last week a tumor in his stomach ruptured. He was dead before they got him to the hospita. Last night Kristie and I counted at least 11 funerals that at least one of us, including the kids, have attended in since we met.

*****

My schedule shifts from Lit and Language 11 and 12 and College Comp to Comp 9, College Comp, and Lit and Language 11. The only thing I'm unhappy about is the large number of students in my eleventh grade class, 34. It used to be a student had to come to a teacher to drop or add a class. However, now we just get a little message on the computer saying that a student has been dropped or added. I now have to scrounge up a couple more desks for my room. The only problem with this is that with 34 students, you inevitably end up managing the class rather than really teaching. I hate to do it, but I'll lay the wood to them right away so maybe they'll switch to another section of the class.

******

Today I start on my 36 College Comp research papers. I hope to get between 5-10 done today. The rest will have to get done on Sunday and Monday.

Wish me luck. Or say a prayer.

Wednesday

Today I present for common prep. That means an hour presentation for each prep block of the day or five hours worth of presentations. I doubt that it will really go that long.

I just hope it goes well. Gearing up to present in front of my peers is not easy. I'm much more comfortable in front of kids. We'll see how it goes I guess.

At least I'll get to talk about something that I find interesting (we'll see if anyone else does!) - using writing as a tool for learning across the curriculum.

****

I am never going to lament about students being shy about asking questions. Yesterday in College Comp was the day their rough drafts were due. I was swamped in questions. In that block alone I was asked more questions than I have been asked in my junior English class all year long.

But it was rewarding hearing kids talk about their writing in such a serious way. One of my better writers confessed, "You know. Writing this paper really wasn't that hard." I told him that it shouldn't have been given all of the planning, reading, outlining, and research he put in. Another one of my top writers (who carries around the collected works of John Steinbeck with note cards stuck to nearly every page) had not just one rough draft, but TWO.

It was a good day.

We'll see if today is another good one.

The editors have spoken . . .

I printed out the editors' comments on my essay. They seemed to have the idea to use two editors - one for all the positive reinforcement and one for the constructive criticism. In all, it wasn't as bad as I anticipated.

I happened to scan through the first editor's comments and realized he was just offering positive feedback, so I skimmed over that. The other one, though, took me to task on a couple issues about clarification and redundancy. Rightfully so too.

I need a way to incorporate this experience into my writing classes. Maybe I'll share it with my College Comp class, which has their rough draft for their research paper due today. It might lighten their hearts that I'm really in the same place as they are.

Once my presentation for the staff is over with and I have my essays all read and graded, I'll focus on revising the essay.

As the pendulum swings

That sounds like a horrible name for an equally horrible (is there any other kind?) soap opera. But that was discussed yesterday during our inservice.

Part of the day included reading some scholarly articles and then discussing them in small groups. The one I chose to read dealt with making older, traditional subjects new and fresh. In each instance, the schools examined in the article took kids out of the classroom and got them involved in the community, made the most of technology, and made sure that kids understood that what they were learning had real word application.

Now that is nothing new or revolutionairy. In fact, it reminded me of the small group reading sessions I was involved with at UND this summer where we focused on Inquiry.

As we discussed the article, a colleague brought up how much this reminded him of Outcome Based Education. He was right. Now OBE was just on the way out as I was entering college (Grad Standards and Multiculuturalism were taking its place). But those (especially the Grad Standards)fell by the wayside only to be replace by No Child Left Behind (which, too, shall pass). Could it be that the pendulum is now swinging all the way back to OBE style teaching?

How does a teacher avoid vertigo?

Inservice Day

In an hour and a half I'll be receiving CPR training. Unfortunately, I thought it was mandatory. Only later did I find that something like 30% of the staff needs to receive training. I could have attended Smartboard training!

Life goes on.

I believe after that we are going to go over some professional articles. I'm looking forward to that most of all.

Well, I'm really looking forward to the two hours individual work time we get after lunch. I have A LOT to do. I still have my College Comp novel tests to grade. Soon I'll have their research papers to grade too. Most of all, though, I'm busy prepping for my presentation to the staff on Wednesday concerning writing across the curriculum. Actually, it's more like using writing across the curriculum. I'm looking forward to that, but it's a lot of work to prepare.

This morning I just received email confirmation that I need to revise parts of my "McEssay" submission for "Getting It in Writing" (which has a tentative May 1, 2008 release date). I thought since I had not heard from them that I might as well ask what the progress was. Dr. Totten, the head honcho of the project, responded right away. He is in Ruwanda on a Fullbright fellowship. He said that the progress has been slow because of massive revisions that have been taking place.

Instantly, I thought Well, aren't I Mr. Fancy Pants not needing any revisions! Wonderful. I must be as good as I really think I am.

Then in the next line he said he'd have one of the editors get back to me immediately. They did. Time to revise.

So much for my Mr. Fancy Pants theory!

************

I know everyone thinks they have the greatest kids in the world. But in our case it's true!

Casey, who reads about as much as I like to do Geometry, finished Grisham's The Street Lawyer for his end of the semester AR test. After school he kept talking about how good it was. Kristie and I silently beamed. Finally!

Then yesterday I noticed how Casey had left the novel perched on our TV stand, showing it off to all. He should be proud of his accomplishment.

On to KoKo now - we saw her crying in the student section of last Friday's boys basketball game, so Kristie beckoned her over. It seems that KoKo had heard that several of Damara's (that would be my brother's daughter, KoKo's step-cousin) had locked her in the bathroom and made her wash her hands in the toilet. Poor kid.

When KoKo heard about it, she burst into tears. That's that big heart of hers.

Then there is the note she left Kristie and me last week -

Mom & Kurt

Sorry that I didn't get to say goodnight so goodnight and love you!

What a kid. What kids, really.

Toy Story: Part 1

I am one big kid. I admit it. I am not ashamed of this.

I had a glorious childhood. By no means was it perfect - in first grade I broke my ankle and put on what my mother affectionately referred to as “baby fat” (never mind that I was not a baby - in fact, looking back at pictures, I see I was a perfectly skinny baby and young child. Who knows what I would look like today had I not tried to ride my bike down that damned hill! Hence my broken ankle. Hence a cast on my right leg that ran all the way up to my groan. Hence three weeks of inactivity. Hence I packed the baby fat on).

Since I was heavier than most of my classmates, I became introverted. This led me to spend a lot of time alone (being around others inevitably lead to the ‘fat’ joke or comment. Even being around others made me anxious, I would spend my time dreading the eventual ‘fat’ joke so really I didn’t enjoy being around my peers. I developed my defense mechanisms - I was overly nice. If I didn’t anger anyone, they would be less likely to resort to the ‘fat’ comment. Bit was always easier to just avoid situations (again, another defense mechanism) so I spent a lot of time isolated). Moving to the country didn’t exactly cure that either.

But all of that time alone was magical. Since I was so much younger than my brother and sister, in many ways, I was like an only child. Mom and Dad (and, of course, my grandmother) spoiled me rotten. And I loved it.

It didn’t hurt either that I grow up in what has to be considered the golden age of toys. Terry Oakland, one of my brother’s friends, gave me a pack of Star Wars trading cards.

I was hooked.

I had not seen the movie yet (it would come on HBO later. I first saw it during a free week trial of HBO. Then my brother found a way to pirate it. Apparently, if you wrapped tinfoil on the cable connection, you could get HBO free, though it was in black and white), but I was hooked. The characters were unlike anything I had ever seen. And that began my love for action figures.

In fact, the Star Wars franchise was unique in that it was one of the first films to take advantage of the buying power of a young audience. Of course, the fact that George Lucas got paid very little for the film -- he wisely negotiated the rights to any profit from toy lines into his contract -- maybe had something to do with the relentless marketing campaign that hit stores in the late ‘70s. By then I was a hardcore addict.

Of course, there has never really been another toy line like Star Wars, which has likely netted trillions over the years. But it changed the way toys were marketed. I loved the Saturday morning reruns of Jonny Quest (which premiered in ’64-65), but the producers never thought to make toys based on the show. And they missed out.

Lucas, though, was not going to be so short sighted. He produced everything from Star Wars stickers that you could iron on to normal T-shirts (loved those) to the insanely popular actual action figures and vehicles to lunch boxes still have one from The Empire Strikes Back) to books (still have a pop-up book from The Empire Strikes Back too) to who knows what else.

An early shot of my collection --



One of my favorite memories was when I was going to be spending a weekend at Granny’s. I packed up my luggage, which was my Darth Vadar Star Wars carrying case (it was made of hard plastic in the shape of Vadar’s head and shoulders. There were snaps on the top and sides. When you undid them the case split in half, revealing numerous compartments that could house dozens of action figures (see the picture below). There was even a little storage area for the weapons. It even came with stickers that named all of the characters, so you could peel them off and put them next to each character in your collection – what a motivator that was to buy more figures).



I begged Granny to let me watch Star Wars (it coincided with the free trial offer). Granny relented and watched me mimic the entire film with my action figures.

“So that’s it,” she said nonplussed.

“It was great,” I said as I made away in my X-Wing fighter from the destroyed death star, which really was her old green foot stool. (Now that I think about it, I would get the Death Star for Christmas that year. Granny didn’t miss a thing!)

“So what happens next?”

“Nothing. That’s it. The movie is over.”

“I know the movie is over, but the story isn’t.”

“Oh yes, it is.”

“Why? Because some us tells you it? Because the movie has ended? Why don’t you make up the rest of the story on your own?”

“Like what?”

“Well, the Dark knight with the voice of James Earl Jones . . .”

“Darth Vadar, Granny!”

“Okay. Mr. Vadar survived. Now I’m sure he is going to want revenge on the Rebels for destroying his space station.”

Whoa. That was good.

“He was left twirling around in his capsule.”

“It is called a Tie Fighter” I said, hoisting my toy replica before her eyes.

“Okay, so what is he going to do?” She said seizing the toy from me and turning it end over end.

I could only shake my head.

“What about Luke and Hand Solo?”

“Han, Granny. H-a-n Solo.”

But the names didn’t matter. Granny was on to something here. I’m sure she recognized the classic archetypes Lucas was working with in Star Wars. I mean the Jedis are really just glorified knights. Their quest to balance the force is their quest for the Holy Grail. Like Arthur, Luke comes from mysterious circumstances. He lives with his aunt and uncle. We learn later that his father was great knight. And like Arthur, Luke is soon swept up in events far larger than he could ever possibly imagine.

I didn’t need to know anything about the Arthurian legend, though. The key for me was that I didn’t have to just re-enact the same scenes over and over as I had about 8 thousand times over the past four months.

From that moment on, I rarely finished a movie. By then my mind would be so keyed up to take liberties with the story, that I would be bored by the second act and off acting out my version of the movie and how it should end.

The original Star Wars Death Star --





On the heels of my Star Wars love came a new rival: GI Joe. Of course, the original GI Joe ‘doll’ was maybe the first real action figure, but he was loooong before my time.

Idol Madness and Old Time Radio

Well American Idol is not two shows deep into its season (I really don’t know how long it’s been on). Like millions of Americans, I’ve been guilty of watching it. I’m not proud to admit it, but I watched every minute the past two nights. I guess I technically didn’t watch every minute since I get embarrassed for the people so easily that I end up watching much of it with my hands covering my face in shame.

Yes it is mostly mindless entertainment, but sometimes I like that just to relax. We never watch the show past the first few episodes (those episodes where the talent is at a minimum and the idiocy is at the maximum). I guess we are just fascinated by the extent some people will go to make fools of themselves.

It seems this year that Simon, my favorite judge, has toned down his sarcasm. He seems to be more humane and understanding. Well, he appears that way to those who are nice and seem to truly try their best, despite their obvious lack of talent. He seems to bear his claws when the delusion person gets up there and adamantly believes they have incredible talent, when it is obvious it is all they can do to carry a note or string a coherent sentence together. He also despises those jackasses who get up there and treat it all as a joke. The one that comes to mind is the poor bastard who came in wearing a black cape. He shed that to reveal a very flabby body covered by an imitation Princess Leah (think The Return of the Jedi) metal bikini. Instantly, Simon was irritated. Randy and Paula cringed. I held my hands over my face. It was not good. Even after they made fun of him for how ridiculous he looked. Even after he promised to get his copious amounts of body hair waxed off - the snippets they showed of that were far more interesting than anything else the guy had to offer. When he returned and launched into his song - “Dont’cha” by the Pussycat Dolls, Simon only let him get about two words into the song - and about one horrible gesture of hips and flabby ass - before he tossed him out.

It seems ironic that I’m glued to the TV just as we are reading Fahrenheit 451, which is all about the dangers of a dumbed down society. Maybe I do lose as many brain cells as drinking, but at least I don’t have a headache in the morning. Plus, I can always justify it by using it as an example in class discussions for our novel.


*****

I few months ago I discovered several old time radio shows for free via podcasts from itunes. I’m addicted. My personal favorite right now is called The Price of Fear. It features Vincent Price narrating a series of horror stories. He doesn’t simply read them though. The shows include characters’ voice and sound effects. And the framing device is that Vincent Price, as himself, relates all of these uncanny experiences that have happened to him throughout his life. Of course, each experience is a classic horror story.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

Awhile ago I was listening to one on my ipod while I was cleaning out the basement. It involved Price on a trip to Spain where he was about to begin shooting a film. He stopped for a meal at a small cafe where he overheard a husband and wife arguing. They were newly married - in fact, they are on their honeymoon - and the wife was insanely jealous. Somehow the couple begins chatting with Price. Then Price relates how when he was visiting this town some years ago, he encountered an incredible castle, which sits on a mountain overlooking the town. It was used during the Spanish Inquisition to torture poor peasants.

Inevitably, they make plans to visit the castle the following day. However, a film director blunders into the cafe and instantly recognizes Price. Immediately Price mentions how much he can’t stand the director, who is overly obnoxious and a know it all.

Of course, the director gloms on to the couple and Price.

Flash forward to the next day. Price and the couple arrive at the bus stop. They are hoping the director won’t show, but, of course, at the last second he arrives and they head out for the castle. On the ride the director is blathering on about how he thinks it would be the perfect place to shoot one of his upcoming movies.

The bus drops them all off at the castle wall. Far below them on a ledge they note a mother cat licking one of her kittens. As a joke, the director picks up a rock - despite everyone’s warning for him not to - and chucks it at the cat - just to spook it.

Of course, he hits the kitten right in the head and kills it. Everyone is horrified. The cat glares at the director. Price observes how he had never seen such hate and loathing in anything before.

So the tour continues. Finally, they reach dungeon where they see the rack, a device to stretch victims, swords, a chair with nails sticking out of it. The director, trying to show off his knowledge, spots an iron maiden. The guide is reluctant to talk about it. But the director finally persuades him to fess up.

Apparently some of the ruling class of the castle were even put inside as heretics.

Instantly, the director gets an idea for a film. He will tell the true story behind the terrible fate of the royal family. To get a taste of how horrifying it would be, the director commands the guide to open the iron maiden. Of course, he climbs in - despite the warnings from everyone.

Next the director asks the guide to close it - not all the way, of course - just slowly so he can get the effect of the spikes closing in on him. Just then, out of nowhere, the cat leaps at the guide, clawing his eyes and cheeks. The man shrieks, letting go of the chain that held the lid of the iron maiden open and catching the director trapped inside.

The cat has its revenge.

Pretty cool, eh? I tell you by the time that story finished, I was looking all around me for our cats. You never know what they’re capable of. What extent would Einstein go to if I didn’t feed him regularly. I was spooked.

The next episode dealt with two Americans collecting insect specimens in South American. They happen to spot a giant spider, the size of a large dog. I won’t go into the story, but I was plenty creeped out as I swept the floor. I was reader to use the broom as a weapon if need be.

What I love about these episodes, is that they are incredibly vivid in my mind. I might have been cleaning downstairs, but for awhile I was totally transported to that castle in Spain and the deep jungles of South America.

I think I really missed out on something by being part of the TV generation. I used to love stories Mom would tell me of Granny gathering the kids around the radio in the evenings and listening to The Green Hornet and Dimension X. Jim, my mom’s brother, recounted to me once how he remembered how he listened with Granny to Orson Wells reading Dracula. How exquisite that must have been. I don’t think it is any small coincidence either that he went on to write his Doctoral thesis on Stoker’s novel.

My father too recalled how he used to listen to The Lone Ranger on the radio.

Kristie loves to call out “Who knows what lies in the hearts of men. The Shadow Knows!” Her father, also raised on radio, would repeat that when he was home with the kids.

It is also what Stephen King credits, specifically in his nonfiction book “Danse Macabre,” with kicking his imagination into overdrive. Like me, King loved the horror programs like Dimension X and The Outer Limits.

There is just something magical about listening to a story and seeing the story unfold in your mind rather than having a director visually manipulate the story for you. Trust me, though, I watched more than my share of TV as a kid, but given my over active imagination, it wasn’t long before I was bored with the director’s version of the story and I was off outside acting out my own version of the plot with my original twists and turns and resolution.

But I suppose I shouldn’t harp on TV too much. I’m sure when radio first began broadcasting there were old curmudgeons across the country who lamented “This radio thing is going to be the ruination of our youth. All they’re going to do is sit around and listen to that thing instead of being outside and doing something.” It sounds all too familiar, having heard it from my mother herself. I’m sure Casey and KoKo would say the same thing about me whenever I see them playing their video games.

The more it changes . . . right?

Oh by the way, I’ve got Price featuring “Is There Anybody There” set for the ride home.

The best line of the year so far . . .

“No Test Left Behind.” Gotta love that.

These kids have the system figured out. I just heard one student in my Senior English class telling her friend, who is going to take the same college class that this student just took, “You don’t have to listen class. You don’t have to do the work. Just hand in all of her study guides and you’ll be fine. That’s how I got an A.”

If one can believe that she actually did get an A, I’m horrified. Not only is her lack of genuine effort appalling (or smart, I guess, some would argue. Why put in more time if you don’t need to? Use the system to get your A and get out) but it is also at the heart of what is really affecting this new generation - they don’t know how to really work or genuinely learn.

How did they get this way? What did we do to these kids?

This is exactly the issue that Denise Clark Pope tackled in the text Doing School: How We Are Creating a Generation of Stressed Out, Materialistic, and Miseducated Students.

Talk about miseducated! The above example illustrates all that is wrong with handing out grades that are supposed to represent the acquisition of knowledge. How foolish. I earned a B in Jerry Schnabel’s “World Religion” class at BSU, yet I learned more in those 10 or 12 weeks than I did than I did in all of the education classes I aced.

In Schnabel’s class, there was no way to skirt the issue: you had to study, read, and grapple with ideas. There was no way you could fake your way through it and even pass, let alone get an A. Yet, in my education classes, I knew - just like my student mentioned earlier - that if I jumped through enough hoops and said the right things, I could get my A.

So I was really no better. But there did come a time - whether it was through a demanding teacher or through my interest in a class or my realization that I might actually need to remember and use the information from my classes - and I started to enjoy learning - even in those damned education classes.

I read an article in the latest Newsweek about the growing number parents who think (I mean, believe) that their children are gifted - when right around five percent of the total population can actually be classified as that (and less than that can be classified as “genius”). The author referenced and upcoming book that I can’t wait to read (and I think it’s a book that will offer be an interesting companion to Pope’s book) called Thank God for B Minuses.

I guess when learners stop valuing knowledge in favor of a symbol and parents pushing every child to stockpile those worthless symbols, we end up with a world like the one in Pixar’s The Incredibles where the protagonist’s son, Dash, is blessed with incredible speed, yet he isn’t allowed to use it because everyone must be equal; no one can be exceptional. The mother, Helen, tells her son, “Everyone’s special, Dash.” The son responds with in a line that surely went over most of the children who saw the film (and I wonder how many of their parents didn’t catch its significance either) -- “That’s just another way of saying no one is.”

Creative Assignments

Over the semester, I've started to collect student samples from several creative assignments. My favorites are below.

From To Kill a Mockingbird

Atticus --



Scout --



Miss Maudie's House --




From Fahrenheit 451

The Mechanical Hound (though it's supposed to have six legs and resemble a spider more than a hound)

Friday's thoughts

A deep, deep breath. I just finished a major portion of grading daily work. I hate to admit it, but a lot of it feels to me like busy work. It all can be justified as aiding comprehension, building reading strategies, and so on. But it still feels like busy work to me. I certainly don’t enjoy grading it. Maybe that’s why I think of it as busy work because it is busy work for me.

I have to be honest: grading a reading guide for Night or Fahrenheit 451 just doesn’t interest me the way grading an essay does.

So why don’t I just assign all essays?

It would never work.

Students would catch on to that. Suddenly the essays would become the busy work.

Instead I strive for a balance of assignments.

And to be honest, if I knew students would read and actively engage in the reading and comprehend it, I would be glad not to assign work. But you never know really what a student is going to make of a text.

For example - in Fahrenheit 451 Bradbury writes about Mildred, Montag’s wife, who falls asleep every night with a “wasp” tamped into her ear. The reader can infer that this is an ear bud headphone - only Bradbury was writing this long before such things were invented. I mentioned this to my students in the introduction to the novel. One night Mildred puts in the ‘wasps’ and ends up taking too many sleeping pills and nearly dies.

Yet, what do I get on a reading guide today? I asked students what I thought was a simple low level comprehension question: “What happens to Mildred when Montag comes home from work?”

Two students - who obviously copied (that’s a topic for another blog entry) - wrote “She was attacked by wasps.” I actually laughed out loud when reading that.

I wrote, “What novel are you reading????” in the margin.

Again, when we idealistically talk about putting students in charge of their own learning, what about these types of students? Now it’s not that they’re incapable of inferring the true meaning. Not at all. It’s either - they don’t care about the right answer, they are foolish enough to put that down and not think how improbable it is, or maybe they just did it in a hurry so they could get on to what is really important to them: gossiping and checking their cell phones.

A large potion of the blame lies with me -- I’ve grown too lax on the cell phones. It seems that there is just so damn much to do that it has become trivial to waste time telling kids to put their cell phones away. Most do anyway, but a few always creep them out. Next semester I have to stay on top of this - even if it means feeling like I’m an elementary school teacher. I’m going back to my old policy of an automatic quiz whenever one rings or if I see someone talking or texting. If I we take a quiz, the next time I see one, I confiscate it. Or they are ejected to the associate principal’s office.

Now on to the copying issue. Since I don’t put my full effort into correcting daily work, I don’t expect them to always put their full effort into it, so I’ve become lax on students having very similar answers. I mean, after all, some of the questions are so basic, it is often hard not to have the same answers. But whenever I see a student blatantly copying a guide because they are behind and need to get it in, I’m just going to grab it and chuck it. I am also going to wait until the last possible moment to return reading guides. That way I don’t return ten and then the next day get another ten copied off the original ones.

I am also going to use a folder system to collect assignments. Right now I just have a wire mesh thing on my desk where students place their work. If I don’t get to it right away, a student could turn something in at the end of the hour when it was due at the beginning. That’s not fair to those who actually did it on time. Next semester, I’ll have a folder for each class. When an assignment is due, I’ll walk around and place it in there and then put it away. So anything that is placed on my desk, I know they are late and worth partial credit.

I didn’t do this at the beginning of the year because it seemed like a waste. I liked to think students would do their work and then turn it in as they walk in. Yeah right. So I’ll spend several minutes each day collecting their work. It might even shame a few into doing more work if they have to turn empty handed to me without their work done. I already tend to start class visiting with students. I might as well visit with them while I collect their work.

I can just imagine those non-teacher readers out there glossing over these insignificant things here. I don’t blame you. But I’ve learned after a decade here that if you don’t stay on top of these little things, they build up and multiply. By the end of the quarter, their combined force takes away from your energy and the focus of the class.

I guess I’ll let you know at the end of the year if this worked or not. I’m sure, though, that other problems will present themselves or students will find loopholes in these new tactics. It is what it is and that’s how it got that way. Right?


*****

One highlight from yesterday was when a former student, Mark, who now goes to St. Johns, stopped by right after lunch. We were only able to visit for maybe ten minutes, but it was nice to see him again.

I don’t think Mark every had a B in high school. He headed to St. Johns for pre med, but he found that quite difficult. He couldn’t hack the complex science classes. He’s thinking about psychology now.

He told me that he was getting his firs C. He admitted that high school didn’t prepare him at all for St. Johns.

I offered him my theory - I asked him to recall the Brit Lit class he took from me - in it I had a certain portion, albeit a small portion, who really struggled and who shouldn’t have been in the class (by that I mean they just weren’t interested in learning anything. They had to take the class though in order to graduate, which was the only reason they were there - not to learn about Brit Lit), there was a very large middle section of students who struggled but did fine, and finally, there was a portion, again a small portion, of students who breezed through the class. Mark was part of the latter portion.

I explained that I had to spend the bulk of my time aiming at the lower and middle portions. This meant that I couldn’t push the upper level in a way that would better prepare them for college. Now I’ll go on record and say that I put students in that class through the ringer. I know it’s on par with our local college’s Brit Lit class. But is it on par with UND’s? St. Johns? Concordia’s? No.

But such is life. I enjoy - well, usually - all the portions of my classes. That is just one drawback to American education.

In the staff room, we had a good conversation on this. One faculty member brought up the possibility of educating our students like most European nations, where students know what they are going to be at an early age and are educated toward that field. I believe the same system holds sway in China, except a certainly smaller portion of the population is educated. Yes, it’s effective. My God, look at their test scores. But - and several of us raised this point - what happens if you don’t know by sixth grade what you want to be? Can you live with someone else making that choice?

I chimed in that I heard a podcast featuring Duke’s Richard H. Brodhead speaking about “What are Universities Good For?” In it, he states how he travels the world analyzing different education systems. While China is a marvel of focus and accomplishment, he states that they are, believe it or not, envious of the American education system because we are so flexible and well rounded.

Maybe there is a way to find a happy medium between these two sides. I don’t know. I do know that I wish I could push my students harder. I wish they didn’t have all that outside crap going on in their lives. I wish they would value their education (another colleague mentioned how she brought her class to UMC where they talked with a professor from India who recounted how he had to walk 7 miles to elementary school. Finally, when he made it to high school, he was able to move to town and didn’t have to walk. He also talked about all he had to do in India just to get an education, which led him here. The students didn’t believe him. How could someone have it so bad? How could someone overcome that? Simple - they knew the power of education. And that’s lost on many kids today. It was lost on me until college).

If we can get kids to value education (and that’s a big IF), then I think most of our problems will go away.

Gotta love irony

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080109/od_nm/brothel_dc

A Rose for Emily?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080110/od_nm/corpse_dc_2

(Our computer is being stupid again. You might have to copy and paste the address)

It is about time for the end of the semester. I am getting tired of them. Isn’t that horrible? Yes and no. I think some of my students are getting tired of me too. It is time for a change. Though I have to admit I am really enjoying the two novels we are reading, Night and Fahrenheit 451.

My goal for my next Junior English class is to read more novels. I almost plunged into The Jungle, but I opted to do Fahrenheit 451 instead. Maybe we will just read sections of The Jungle. I know that too sounds horrible. How can you read sections of a book? Maybe I’ll give them the option of reading the entire thing if they want. But I have no illusions. I can’t guarentee that students aren’t just reading sections of Night and Fahrenheit 451.

A colleague gives students the option to choose which novel to read. I just don’t know if I could make that work. I like the idea that we all can discuss (well, attempt to discuss) what we are reading at any given time. Plus, let’s face it, I’m totally random abstract. I can hardly keep track of one novel. How could I keep track of five?

****

We just read this scene in Night --

[A Dutch overseer of a unit has been smuggling weapons and, supposedly, attempted sabotaged the central electric plant powering the death camp. He had a young boy who was his assistant. Several others were implicated too. It is the boy’s death that shakes Wiesel’s faith.]

“Then came the march past the victims. The two men were no longer alive. Their tongues were hanging out, swollen and bluish. But the third rope was still moving: the child, too light, was still breathing . . .

And so he remained for more than half an hour, lingering between life and death, writhing before our eyes. And we were forced to look at him at close range. He was still alive when I passed him. His tongue was still red, his eyes not yet extinguished.

Behind me, I heard the same man asking:

‘For God’s sake, where is God?’

And from within me, I heard a voice answer:

‘Where He is? This is where -- hanging here from this gallows . . . ‘

That night, the soup tasted of corpses.”

That was a powerful scene. You could have heard a pin drop in here.

Two interesting stories

My new hero – just read a news story about a mother who found alcohol in her son’s car. So she did what any mother would do – right? – she sold the car!

Here is the ad from the local paper – “OLDS 1999 Intrigue. Totally uncool parents who obviously don’t love teenage son, selling his car. Only driven for three weeks before snoopy mom who needs to get a life found booze under front seat. $3,700/offer. Call meanest mom in the world.”

That lady rocks! I have no doubt that Kristie would do something like that if she caught Casey boy in the same spot.


*****

I also read an interesting article from the Grand Forks Herald. Apparently over in Eden Prairie, some students at the high school there are being suspended after incriminating photos have been posted on Facebook. Evidently, the pictures show some athletes drinking at parties. School officials have visited the site and verified it. Now several athletes are being suspended since drinking violates their MNHS eligibility rules and the school’s honor code.

I am split over this. Part of me is glad that the morons finally got busted. The rule is not to drink during a sports season. If you cannot hold off, then you must live with the consequences.

But part of me wonders about the students. If they didn’t post them – as they claim – then who did? Was it a rival trying to start a smear campaign? I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Of course, all the athletes in the photos claim that they were taken long ago before they were involved in sports. Or that some of the drinks in the pictures cannot be proved to contain alcohol. Or that they simply were at the parties and never drank. All impossible to confirm I suppose.

The former part of me still feels that they got what they deserved for even taking the pictures. But pictures or not – evidence or not – how can such behavior effectively be changed? Or can it even be changed?

The article addresses this with kids stating that they doubt it will have an effect on underage drinking. Kids will just be more discreet. Well, I guess at least one thing has been learned.

One student adopted the “Woe Is Me” attitude and states, “A lot of kids’ lives are going to be ruined as far as scholarships and sports are concerned.” My reaction? Big freakin’ whoop. Losing a scholarship or being unable to play a sport is not the end of someone’s life. Given our current reading of Night, that is clearly evident.

Another student believes “it’s a huge invasion of privacy.” I have no sympathy here. If you own a cell phone – and nearly all now have cameras – and if you have a Facebook or Myspace account, there is no such thing as privacy anymore.

A sloppy win and a dominant one, but wins nonetheless

KoKo’s team won last night in Middle River. It was a lot closer than it should have been though. The last time they played, RLF wiped the floor with them, but this time the girls just seemed sluggish, especially on offense. It was a good thing Middle River couldn’t shoot and got into foul trouble right away in each half. I hope RLF didn’t let their championships in the Ada tournament go to their heads. They better get things straight here soon because they travel to Crookston next week, one of their two losses this season.


*****

Ohio State. What a joke. Again another Big Ten school gets flattened by an elite SEC team. Say what you want about the supposedly big, tough, and physical Big Ten. It cannot hold a candle to the SEC. Had Ohio State, who finished the regular season with a 11-1 record, played in the SEC, they would have been around 7-5.

If the Golden Gophers played in the SEC (remember their lone win, I think, was against Bowling Green – in overtime) they might not win another game this decade.

Say what you want about Ohio State’s 10-0 early lead. Yes, they had a chance to make it 17-0, but their receiver dropped the ball in the endzone. But that had more to do with LSU starting out flat than Ohio State having superior athletes.

Once LSU settled in, it looked like men against boys.

I know some out there will talk about Michigan’s win over Florida. Give me a break. Michigan lost to Appalachian State. They were playing tough for Lloyd Carr’s final game – and more importantly – they were using the spread offense for the first time in forever. (By the way – for those of you who don’t know – the spread offense is a shotgun based offense that spreads the field and throws the ball all over the place – kind of like the old Run and Shoot offenses back in the late 80s and early 90s – who was the only Big Ten team to beat Ohio State? Illinois. And they run the spread offense. Plus, they really showed up in their BCS game – USC crushed them 49-7). And Michigan barely beat Florida.

When it comes down to it, the SEC is damn near professional football. Just look at an NFL roster and check the schools – LSU, Arkansas, Florida, Tennessee, Alabama, Auburn, and Georgia will dominate many rosters.

The Big Ten just hasn’t caught up yet.

And now Ohio state has lost the past two National Championships in embarrassing fashion.

Has Ohio State become the Nebraska of the later 80s and early 90s when the Florida schools would absolutely embarrass them every year in the Orange Bowl because Nebraska had a bunch of big, strong corn fed locacl kids who just couldn’t run with the city kids of Miami, Tallahasse, and Gainesville?

Here’s looking forward to a true playoff format in Division I football. How great would it have been to see the three hottest teams – Georgia (who crushed Hawaii), USC (who crushed Illinious), Kansas (who edged Virginia Tech but only lost one game) and LSU (who not only destroyed Ohio State but whose only two losses are by a combined 8 points in two overtimes) – duke it out for the national championship? Why the gods of college football are content with this foolish bowl system is beyond me.

I’m already looking forward to the Kickoff Classic in late August. Where did the sason go?

Great line

In my Junior English class we are still in the early stages of Fahrenheit 451. Each time I read it I become more interested in Clarisse and her family. I’m interested because that seems to me how our family is now. It is also how Mom, Dad, and I spent much of our time when I was young. This passage from the book really hits home – “Montag heard the voices talking, talking, talking, giving, talking, weaving, reweaving their hypnotic web.” That is how I spent my childhood with my parents. That is how Kristie, Casey, KoKo, and I spend much of our time now. Given the lives some of my students drudge off to when the bell rings, we are blessed.

I have read this novel over a dozen times, and this was the first time that line caught my attention. But maybe it sank in long before that. Here is the opening section of my thesis – (sorry for those of you who have to re-read)




I
I have always lived creative nonfiction. Coming from a family of storytellers, narratives defined us. At our evening dinners, Mom, Dad, and I gathered our stories - new and old. Meals were heaped full of stories more than casseroles and hot dishes. Suppers were so alive with stories that we doled them out between bites, adding our own revisions between helpings. Finally, the average meal would end with Dad telling another tale between sips of Folgers while I would bring up new stories between glances at my homework stacked on top of the refrigerator and Mom chiming in commentary between dishes at the sink.
We loved the stories. But we lived for their inconsistencies. I told your mother to stand back while I was shaking the new can of grapefruit juice, but you know her, she just kept jabbering away about getting a new dryer. Then the darn thing just slipped out of my hand, flew across the kitchen and nicked her little toe, Dad would begin. Now wait just a minute, Kenneth, Mom would interrupt, you never said a word about standing back. You were going on about getting a new starter for the 730 when you lost the grip. Then she would begin nodding her head, And it most certainly did fly all the way across the kitchen. Then she would begin shaking her head and rolling her eyes, correcting Dad’s version, but it landed squarely on my big toe. Eventually they would turn to me and exclaim, You know I’m telling the truth, Kurt. I would add, I just remember getting to take the pick up to Crookston on a school night for Tylenol and a cold pack. Accuracy didn’t really matter. There was an emotional truth to each tale, an emotional truth that often moved Mom to tears from laughing so hard, that often moved Dad to pound his palm on the table in disagreement, and often moved me to shake my head in amazement.
Soon Mom or Dad would say, That’s as bad as the time . . . and they were off on another story. That was our way to connect one story to the next. It was our way to braid our stories together to form the fabric of our lives, of our realities, of ourselves.

I stole that right from Bradbury! Actually, I wish I would have noted that line while writing my thesis. I could have quoted it in the introduction.

Speaking of stealing ideas, another thing that struck me from listening to Carlin’s interview with James Burke was one little story he told about influences and where we get our ideas. Carlin was talking about how much he admired Burke and often found himself in his podcasts using Burke’s ideas. Burke related how he conceived the idea for his “Connections” series from reading a footnote by an American professor who attributed the rise of feudalism to the invention of the stirrup (the stirrup allowed one to stay on a horse while wielding a weapon. This meant you could have much greater force with a weapon, like a lance. This meant that soon your enemies would invent their own stirrups to use the momentum of horses and weapons in battle. This lead to a number of things – armor, better weapons, more horses, riders who had to be trained to wield these weapons more efficiently than ever and to maneuver horses better than ever. Soon you have the knights arising. You need more land for the horses, so you allot land from the church. Dukes are needed to look after this land. And – presto! – Feudalism is born).

So Burke called this professor to see if he could base “Connections” off this footnote. The professor said, “Young man, you may steal the idea. After all, I stole it!”

Burke couldn’t believe it. The professor then told him something that I just love: “Young man, you don’t think people are born with ideas do you?”

This idea, of course, applies perfectly to teaching. My room is a melting pot of ideas I’ve lifted off other teachers over time (okay all of the actions figures and Lego’s are mine. I mean what other teacher would have that in their room?). The same is true for my lessons. If I see a good idea or something that sounds fun – I don’t hesitate to steal it.

In fact, the highlight of my year so far has been the imovie trailers from our Edgar Allen Poe unit. But I stole that from a talk I had last summer with our McDougal-Littell rep.

“You don’t think people are born with ideas do you?” might just have become my favorite education quote, replacing “Teaching is the art of acting like you have known all your life what you just learned that morning.”

No more excuses for laziness or apathy

When I was listening to the Carlin interview with James Burke, I heard a great line from Burke - regarding human potential - “Every healthy human being has about the same number of neurons in the skull - about 100 billion. Each one of them has up to 50,000 connecting dendrites, each of which can be in contact with other connecting dendrites up to the same number, which means that inside the brain a thought can go any one of a number of routes which are larger than the number of atoms in the known universe!” I’m going to remind my students of that when they are lazy or apathetic. They owe it to that amazing mechanism inside their skulls to get those dendrites connecting and to get those original thoughts generated.

Wednesday

These are the things that make an English teacher’s day --

A student pointing to a book, “Fahrenheit 451,” and saying, “That is a greeeaaat book.”

A student dropping in between classes with all of his comma questions on his upcoming paper underlined. (all of the commas were correctly used)

Another student handing me his senior picture before adding, “Put me in a good spot!” (he was referring to how I tape senior pictures all over my desk as students give them to me).

These aren’t much in the grand scheme of standardized tests and district standards, but they sustain me. Sometimes for weeks at a time.

*****

To preface “Fahrenheit 451” I had my juniors write an essay reflecting on a time they felt that they were genuinely happy. Then today I introduced them to Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s (just don’t ask me how to pronounce it) theory on the psychology of flow. Mihaly found in a massive study across cultures and economic levels that what caused people to feel happy was experiences where they encountered flow. Ask an athlete and they’ll tell you all about flow - it’s that state where you are so tuned in to what you are doing that the worlds seems to fade away and time stops. An hour will pass in what feels like a matter of minutes.

Mihaly found that it was not limited, however, to just athletics. Any time a person works to accomplish something they experience a level of flow. Engaging in this work which leads to flow is what really causes us to feel happy. Imagine that - happiness linked to work.

Then the class and I looked at our culture. After some prodding we looked at what our culture seems to define as “happiness” through advertising. In fact, we put it into three categories - buy stuff, east stuff, and sit on your ass. Sometimes one product can include all three things. We had a good time talking about that.

******

Today in my senior English class we began “Night.” To prep them, I visited eyewitnesstohistory.com and found an article on a Nazi death camp. It is the account of a British journalist’s first glimpse inside one of the first death camps to be liberated. His account of the gas chamber there (and the peep hole in the door - maybe the most frightening aspect of all) were far too horrible for the BBC to publish right away. Yesterday I had them read this and discuss it.

Today we plunged full steam into “Night.” For lack of a better word, I have several red necks in class - one who has often drawn swastikas on his tablet - so I really laid it on thick about the horrors of Hitler’s genocide from accounts I’ve read and seen.

I recounted what Kristie told me about “Sophie’s Choice” and the horrible choice that Jewish mother faced. The Nazi guards gave her a choice: choose your son or infant daughter to live. She chose her son, thinking since he was older he would survive. She could never forget her daughter, as the guards hauled her away, crying “Mommy! Mommy!” Could you imagine the horror of that. You should have seen the shock on several students’ faces.

I think this situation was repeated a few years ago when terrorists in Russia took a school hostage. A mother was held with her children. She was given the option to release one. While the other had to remain hostage with her - for possible death. Could you imagine?

Over all the students were observant and respectful. On the other side of the classroom I have several choir students who has spent years studying the holocaust. They too were shocked, but their contributions were invaluable.

Back in 1994 Dr. Drake took several members of her class (including me) to the UND writers conference. Then after lunch we attending “Schindler’s List.” On the way home Dr. Drake asked us if it could ever happen again. I was unsure. But one older student was absolutely resolute that it could never happen again.

Now I know better. Just look at Darfur. Granted that is not on the grand scale of genocide that the Nazis practiced, but it is genocide nonetheless.

Many of my students brought this up today. They were shocked that we aren’t doing anything about it. The best I could offer was, “It’s always easier to not do anything when the bad stuff is happening to someone else.” I think that was part of what happened in Europe (and America) during the Holocaust. There were clues that bad things happening (maybe they didn’t reveal just how bad they were though), but it was happening to someone else.

To help them consider this I asked how many people saw “Charlie Wilson’s War.” And having just seen a very good History Channel documentary on him, I felt confident in discussing it. But the class seemed relatively unimpressed with a Texas congressmen sitting in a hot tub chugging whiskey and snorting (supposedly anyway) coke with a bunch of strippers when he saw a broadcast on the terrible things that the Russian military was doing to the Afghanistan people while invading the country and that motivated him to try and boost CIA funding to the Afghan rebels. I thought that would hook them into a good discussion, but it went nowhere.

Then I noted to students how a podcast I was recently listening to (Dan Carlin’s episode on the Assyrian city of Nineveh) and he recounted just how terrible the Assyrians were - and they were in power several thousand years ago. One Assyrian king actually had a river diverted so it would flow over the city of a king who disobeyed him! Another Assyrian king wrote about skinning his enemies, building a tower of the dead, having their ruler wear a severed head around his neck and beating him to death, of walling the ruler’s family up in a wall. And this was in ancient history! The point was that people have always had the potential for evil and genocide in them.

Then I asked them if what Hitler did was that different from what the founding fathers did to the Native Americans here. They didn’t use cyanide, machine guns, ghettos, or death camps. Instead they used small pox, whiskey, reservations, and the mass slaughter of bison to practice their genocide instead.

Then we listened to the first chapter. Some wanted to read on their own, so they headed to the hallway or library.

I just hope students come away with a little darker world view. I hope the always wonder what we are truly capable of. Will it ever happen again? These students may be the ones to decide that.