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Monthly Archives: January 2009

Updike

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This is my last post this week, truly, but John Updike died, and it made me reread A & P, one of those short stories that just knocks me flat.

This year with our eleventh graders, we have this bump period– usually we have seventy minute class periods on even or odd days on a ten-day schedule, and for this class, once a cycle, we have this forty-minute bump period. Sometimes we use those as work periods, sometimes we look at something like a documentary that ties in with the text we’re reading. And sometimes, we look at literature that complements our ongoing course-work, or even just that I think we can look at and discuss freely in forty minutes. I did it early this year with Hills Like White Elephants, one of my favorite short stories, and I have a cluster of great love poems I like to throw in while we read Gatsby and are talking about all the vagaries of romantic love.

Sometime this spring, I’m going to use A & P. When we do a short story, I like to circle read it, with each student taking a line or paragraph until we’ve gone through it. Then we have a loose discussion– not always focusing on literary devices or our more analytical tools, but just on what they think, what they responded to, what they noticed.

I think it is good for students to do this, in a classroom, without being focused on an assignment, without feeling the pressure of literary vivisection. You’ve got to choose the right piece– Hills worked like a dream, and the students are still bringing it up sometimes. I’d use A Perfect Day for Bananafish if our tenth graders didn’t already read it, and I’d love to use A Jury of Her Peers sometime, but I’m worried it will be a bit too long. Even if I didn’t have a bump period, I think I’d try and build in a regular session like this for the junior year curriculum– after heavy-hitters like Hamlet and Beloved, it’s nice for the students to just experience a work of literature, and maybe even feel the joy I feel when a new work hits home.

A & P doesn’t have the payoff of a big reveal like Bananafish, Peers or Hills, but I think they’ll like it. If you have any favorite short stories you think would work well, I’d love to hear the titles.

Reasons to Feel Good

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Whispers and rumbles of economic uncertainty and global unrest seem unavoidable these days, and while so far we have only been marginally affected, it gets harder and harder to think that will remain true. Since I quit soda I’ve been sleeping better and feeling less anxious, and while I’ve never been one for a gratitude journal or meditation or any of those things, I also do acknowledge that sometimes I need to remind myself to stay grounded and focused on the small stuff. Dawn recently posted things she felt good about, so I’m following suit.

1. At both of my jobs, I’m fortunate enough to work with some pretty amazing people. In the years right after the girls were born when I was adjuncting at night, I rarely interacted with anyone else who did the work I did, and now that I do, it really makes working more pleasant. We trade books, jokes, recipes and stories about kids and spouses, and both jobs are the more congenial for it.

2. I’m really enjoying blogging since I re-dedicated myself to it as an endeavor. I feel like I’m more purposeful, and that has invigorated my desire to write, and I love returning to a regular practice of writing.

3. We’re taking a short vacation together this upcoming weekend, which is very unusual for us. We didn’t take a honeymoon, and since the girls were born we’ve taken family trips, and gone to a lot of weddings, but no real adults-only trips. My mother-in-law surprised us with this trip for our anniversary, which is February 2nd, so expect a period of silence at the end of this week, hopefully followed by a spate of photo-blogging.

4. My girls are bustling, creative, funny, kind little kids, despite all the times I snapped at them or ignored them in favor of whatever novel I was reading at the time :) .

5. My husband is very busy these days between work and law school, but he is still my partner and my best friend, and I still feel very lucky to have stumbled into such a lovely and special relationship.

6. While I often feel overwhelmed, and like I’m struggling to keep it all together, I am so lucky to have so many great opportunities in my life, so many people I want to spend more time with, and to be surrounded by support wherever I turn.

7. I have some really amazing friends, and lately whenever I have made friendly overtures to acquaintances in my daily travels, they have reached back with welcoming hands.

8. Our sweet Rosemary kitten is home!

Lost: One Kitten

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We got a kitten as a family present for this past Christmas, a sleek little black kitten we named Rosemary. She had been a stray that a couple took in and fed for a week or so, and then they advertised on Craig’s List, where we saw their ad. She had only been with us for about six weeks, and suddenly, she is gone.

Last night around six, I came home from the grocery store and propped open the front door for a few minutes while I brought in the bags. I shouldn’t have done that, and I feel terribly guilty about it. We are pretty sure that she snuck out while I was bringing the groceries in, since none of us have seen her since. We didn’t realize it until this morning, and my husband and I have searched the house and walked the block more than once. We also notified most of our closest neighbors. Next step is making fliers.

We do live in the city, and I’m a bit nervous about the busier roads in our proximity. We have a neighbor who has a lot of outdoor cats, so I’m hoping she doesn’t stray too far and that someday soon, we’ll see her wander back to us. My deepest fear is that she really wanted to be an outdoor cat again, and that she might enjoy being out on her own again.

Our girls are pretty hopeful still, but my husband and I keep exchanging worried looks. Keep your fingers crossed for us, and for our little Rosemary.

Abandoned Places

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My husband and I met in graduate school in Bowling Green, Ohio, about twenty minutes south of Toledo, maybe an hour south of Detroit, Michigan. It’s funny, because I went to college outside Baltimore, and when I moved to Ohio in the summer of 2000 I had no idea I was exchanging proximity to urban blight for more of the same.

The first day I met my future husband, he was in a group of other grad students talking about Detroit, about the beauty of its abandoned streets and buildings, about how fascinating it was to witness urban decay, about the defiant vitality and beauty of house music, Detroit techno, Juan Atkins and Derrick May. I didn’t really know what he was talking about, but I was attracted to his passion, his excitement for such an unusual subject. Who falls in love with decay and blight, with such heartbreaking loss and destruction? Before I left Ohio for good, I went into Detroit twice, once for a baseball game and dinner in Greektown and again to see a Brazilian film at the Detroit Institute of Art’s Film Theater. Each time, I was stunned by the contrast between the incredible edifices surrounded by seas of broken-down structures and desolate stretches of concrete.

Today when I should have been grading midterms, I spent a long stretch of time entirely absorbed in the posts in the “abandoned places” section of Sweet Juniper!, a blog I had seen around for awhile but never really gave a fair shot. Jim and his wife live in Detroit, and as a stay-at-home dad, he spends a lot of time walking around the city, with his dogs, his kids and his camera, documenting what has happened to the city of Detroit and what is still happening. His photographs are striking in their starkness and in their honest depiction of a major American city left to rot, a story of scrappers and prostitutes, of the homeless and the drug addicts, but also of the corrupt politicians, the slumlords, the gangs and the schoolchildren of Detroit.

Living in Baltimore is often depressing, and in these hard economic times there are so many stories to give us pause and tug at our heartstrings. But in considering Detroit, we also consider that maybe the breakdown of our society has been happening for much longer for parts of our country, but we have turned a blind eye, thinking it would never come close enough to touch us. For me, after looking at those images and reading those words, it’s getting harder and harder not to be touched.

The Notebooks

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I have a little magnet on my fridge that says, “I Still Read Books!”, which I bought at Atomic Books, where I bought a lot of my favorite magnets (like the one with a disapproving waitress that says “God Knows When You Don’t Tip.” It’s true, you know). Anyway, I’ve been thinking lately that I also need a magnet that says, “I still write in notebooks!”

My favorite notebook is definitely the legendary Moleskine, favored by Picasso, Hemingway and Van Gogh, with its trademark rounded edges, elastic band, and expanding inner pocket. I have tried both the small versions, the larger (but still portable) one, both with lined paper and unlined. Recently, my mother bought me two sets of the Volants notebooks in pink and green as a souvenir from my reading at the BMA (which was fantastic, by the way. The reading went off without a hitch, and it was a great thrill to hear my poem on the tour. Make sure to check it out if you’re in Baltimore anytime over the next year or so.)

There’s no better portable notebook than the moleskines, and if you ever see me in real life you can be sure I have one somewhere close by, either in the stacks of paper on my desk, the stacks of books on the bottom of my couch, or stuffed in the messenger bag slung over my shoulder. However, they are certainly not the only notebooks I have or use– sometimes I need bigger ones, and sometimes I need cheaper ones, and sometimes I just need one quickly, and so I have drugstore notebooks, bookstore notebooks (the hardbacked clothbound kind that come in black or red), and even hand-me-down notebooks. I have a small stack of pea-green notebooks upstairs that my father had from a long-ago govenment job– I guess technically they might be ledgers? Their papers are tissuey and thin, and I haven’t used them much, but I enjoy them as objects. I spent a few hours this morning jotting notes in a spiral-bound notebook with wide purple, cream and black stripes on the cover– I’m getting ready to teach Marx and Gramsci and a bunch of other big critical theorists, which for me has always meant taking copious notes.

I have grown pretty dependant on many electronic functions that have replaced paper ones– I love my Outlook calendar, and I love email, and obviously I’m rather fond of blogging– but for composing the written word, or for making sense of it, or even just as a daily habit, nothing will replace jotting or scribbling it down in a trusted notebook. I could lose every email I’ve ever written tomorrow and feel no pang, but those stacks of notebooks I’ve got scattered all over my house? Those are crucial repositories for poems, stories, journal entries, articles and all manner of lists and handwritten ephemera. Those are chunks of my own personal history, the closest anyone will ever get to seeing the internal workings of my puzzling brain. For me, no sleek computer or technically dazzling program stands a chance against a simple notebook, and no screen could ever hold the charm and promise of a lovely blank page.

First Day Jitters

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We were at a party recently, and a young doctoral student I was talking to said, “I feel so nervous before the beginning of the semester, and then I’m like, what does that mean when I’m pursuing teaching as a career?”

My response: “Well, I’m in my eighth year of teaching, and I still feel like I want to throw up before each new semester!”

My university course starts soon, and I’m definitely feeling those jitters. It’s a new course for me, but not a new class for the program, like the one I’ve been teaching for the past two semesters. This course is one of the key foundational courses for the major, so I’m teaching passages from a lot of the theoretical texts I studied in graduate school. On the one hand, the material is more familiar, but on the other hand, this course is really important for the students to master, and the level of rigor I need to require from them is also important. I’m getting a lot of guidance from my dept chair, which is fantastic, but I certainly feel like the pressure’s on.

But then, I do feel this way before each new term. It’s like performance anxiety, or stage fright– how will I be when I’m out there, in front of a strange new audience? I’ve been working on my syllabus and assignments, and I think it’s going well, but will they work on their own, once the semester starts? What will the students be like, and will we find a rapport or chemistry as a group? Will my weekly or daily performances fly or flop? What surprises are in store for me?

I love teaching, and I would never want to love it less, because I think it would be much harder to be good at it if I didn’t love it. But the fact that it does mean so much to me makes me want so much to be good at it, if that’s not too convoluted. And sometimes, like before the first class, all that wanting and love keeps me up at night, jittery and nervous, and I’m always glad once that subsides and I can dig right into the business, the practice, of teaching.

American Lion

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There’s been a lot of talk about our new President’s connection to, affinity for, and resemblance to his Illinois forefather, talk which only increased when it came out that Obama has been reading about Lincoln recently, including (but not limited to) Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin, which I recently reread myself. It’s a great book, and Lincoln is certainly a worthy model, but if our new President is on a biographical streak, I’d highly recommend American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House.

if Obama wants to understand the evolution of the presidency, he would do well to study Jackson, the first president to use the veto power as a tool (he used it more than the six previous presidents combined), the first president to see himself as the representative of the people, and a president who faced some truly difficult and terrible situations during his two terms in office. I think that in modern times, we often only think of Jackson as the warrior-general who was the architect and instrument of some of the greatest human-rights debacles in our country’s history, and while he should truly be rebuked in our eternal memory for his part in Trail of Tears, examining the rest of his legacy need not minimize his role in that tragedy.

Jackson helped lead both an emerging national party and a country that was already starting to see evidence of the schisms that would result in the Civil War. The country was still viewed with suspicion by the rest of the world, and the borders were in flux, threatened by British and French interests, with the Indian Wars through the Southest and after his second term, the battles between Mexico and Americans in the Texas territory. He entered the White House almost immediately after the death of his beloved wife, and served much of his time in office with a bullet in his body from a long-ago duel. Nullification was a raging issue that threatened to rend the fabric of the Union, including Jackson’s own Vice-President, John C. Calhoun who left his administration to become a Senator arguing strongly for states’ rights. The economy of the United States also underwent major seismic shifts, from debates over tariffs to the battles of the Bank of the United States.

The more I read about our long national nightmare, the more I hope we are about to have a president with the kind of intelligence, courage of conviction, and force of will that we deserve. FDR, Theodore Roosevelt and Lincoln himself all looked to Jackson for inspiration and guidance, not because they agreed with his stance on issues like slavery or Native Americans, but because he stood as a model of strength and conviction determined to hold the Union together by the force of his own will, and determined to be a President who believed in the will of the American people and fought with all his might to do what he believed would serve them best.

The Happiness Project (Blogroll Spotlight Series)

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I’ve been reading The Happiness Project for at least a year now, and it’s definitely one of my favorite daily reads. Gretchen Rubin is the author of the blog, and the book by the same name comes out late next year. Rubin posts regularly, with quotations, lists of tips, links to other websites and books along the same lines, but also includes anecdotes from her own life that are not just her successes, but also her failures or struggles along the road to happiness. Her engaging voice and grounded approach are right up my alley, but since her entries are all rather short, they are easy to absorb in a few stolen minutes during your day. I also think THP is a really effective example of how authors can use blogs to build interest for their books, but that’s not really why I read it.

Sometimes with my college students, I ask them to think about whether the ever-increasing flow of information in the digital age is more beneficial or detrimental. How do we benefit from hearing about the terrible tragedies that happen in this world, like the man in Austria who kept his daughter captive for decades, or the desperate mother in Florida who appears to have killed her three-year-old? What good does this bring to our lives? I bring up “mean world syndrome,” a theory I read first in Abandoned in the Wasteland: Children, Television, & the First Amendment when I was a student myself. Minow got the idea from George Gerbner, who was describing the negative effects of television on its viewers, but I think the idea applies just as easily to those who are heavy consumers of the news in today’s modern world.

From the linked article:

The programming reinforces the worst fears and apprehensions and paranoia of people…. Our surveys tell us that the more television people watch, the more they are likely to be afraid to go out on the street in their own community, especially at night. They are afraid of strangers and meeting other people.

Books, music, poetry, and good friends are pretty fail-safe antidotes to mean-world syndrome, but what about when you just need a small jolt, a dose of positive, constructive thinking in the middle of a tough or discouraging day? That’s when I turn to resources like The Happiness Project, to spend at least a little time each day thinking about how to be a happier person and how to help my children and my family be happier, and not about all the potential obstacles to happiness there are out there in the world. I think it’s an important frame of mind to work towards, and I need all the tools I can get.

My new favorite happiness-related resource, found through the Happiness Project, is the Authentic Happiness site at the University of Pennsylvania. It’s full of psychological questionnaires on all different aspects of personal happiness, and if you register, the site will store all your responses for you. Once you’ve taken a few, interesting patterns start to emerge, which should leave you with much food for thought.

More Presidential Talk

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One of the nice features of WordPress is that you don’t need to install blog stat software, because WordPress does it for you. Apparently, a lot of people out there are Googling stuff with “inauguration” in it, oddly enough, along with “teaching the” and “writing about the” and “kids and the.” So I thought I would go ahead and post about my kids, my family and politics.

I’m the daughter of a US History teacher who grew up near the Capitol of the United States and married a government worker and political junkie, so it was always foreordained that we would try and raise our kids with an ever-evolving sense of citizenship, duty and patriotism. We’re also pretty feminist/lefty/progressive, so we knew we wanted that to be in the mix.

But how do you do that with a two-year-old? Well, we have tried a variety of strategies. I went to anti-war peace rallies when I was pregnant with the girls, and we took them to DC in strollers for the March for Women’s Lives in April 2004, not that they really understood any of that. When my husband worked for the mayor of our city, we took the girls to political events, and they held up signs and shouted slogans. We tried to explain the idea of voting, and how you could win or lose your job if you were in charge of areas, like cities or towns or states. We read books like Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type and Duck for President and tried to answer any questions that came up, and then tried to further explain those answers beyond “collective bargaining” and “participatory democracy.” They have accompanied one or both of us to vote in every election they’ve been alive for, and I think they’ve even gone with my mother once. We talked about how I especially feel it’s important for women to vote, because women fought so hard to win the franchise.

My husband likes to watch the Sunday morning political talk shows, which my girls learned early on to call “those shows where the men are always shouting at each other,” and sometimes we answered questions about things they overheard there. We often have conversations about political or social issues at the dinner or breakfast or lunch table, and we answer questions that come up from those (are you sensing a pattern?). In short, we did a little direct inculcating and the rest just came up by spending a lot of time around our kids and being ourselves around them, and trying to be as receptive as possible to all their questions.

When the election season started, things got stickier. They’re old enough now to be asking more complicated questions, and so we talked about how we chose who to vote for– I focused on war and health care, because I thought they were issues they could understand. We talked about Obama, Clinton and McCain, and they became able to recognize their faces and where they stood on a (very) few issues. We talked about the historic nature of this election, and even Martin Luther King Jr., whom they had learned about in kindergarten. We went to a friend’s house for Election Night, and brought the kids down from the playroom to announce Obama’s win.

Who knows what they will remember, or what they will think of politics or elections in the future. But they will have a model of engaged citizenship, if I have anything to say about it.

Hopes and Dreams

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Today as a midterm review exercise, I made a packet for my eleventh grade students including the text of Obama’s 2004 convention keynote speech and MLK’s legendary March on Washington speech. They will have a prose passage or two on their exam to explicate, and what better speeches to look at?

I keep thinking that I will stop having an emotional reaction to Obama’s win, that at some point I will see it as an accepted fact, but clearly I’m not there yet. When I was looking at these speeches today, and reading these incredibly powerful words, and seeing the photos of these brave and exceptional leaders, I got choked up all over again.

I would never presume to know what experienced racism is like, or to say that we are post-racism or even post-racial yet. But if you read those speeches side by side, I challenge anyone not to feel at least a glimmer of the audacity of hope, and the promise of freedom that is so much closer to fulfillment.

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