Friday, April 30, 2010

Independence v. Freedom

Christine and I had just driven into the big city in bumper to bumper traffic after a quickly devoured dinner and a sloppy 'distract and run' toddler maneuver. We had worked all day during what most educators in Texas formally call "the week we attempted to bring down democracy (against our wills) thanks to fat cat capitalists and a deal they made with the devil," also known as, "the demise of public education in America." (Most people, though, know it as the week of TAKS* testing.) And here we were, tripping our way into an unfamiliar auditorium, preparing ourselves for what we hoped would be a grain of inspiration.

We settled in to listen to Dr. Diane Ravitch, author of The Death and Life of the Great American System when we bumped into friends, Irina and Paula. We know these incredibly intelligent and insightful women from the Friday Night Salon group we sometimes attend. We sat down next to them and after settling in I brought up our consortium topic for this week and hoped for their input as, of course, they would have something brilliant to include. Rather than trying to write my way through sporadic dialogue and note passing during the event, I decided, instead, to show you my scattered notes:

The top half obviously is our thoughts on independence (note that I accidentally wrote independent at first - Freudian slip, as Irina pointed out). Freedom is at the bottom. Oddly, as we were brainstorming I decided that both words have negative connotations to me. Independence often leads to lessons learned in literature. Freedom has become a buzzword for American everything. We throw it around like it's cheap and most of the time use it in instances of blind patriotism. "I've never had an independence fry," Irina pointed out, grinning.

*Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills
This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Independence v. Freedom, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Friday, April 23, 2010

If I could be anything, I would be..

...an artist. Any kind: writer, musician, painter, or photographer... Here's why:
True artists immerse themselves in their creativity, reposing with their muses for a while, feeling their souls break free from their bodies through extensions of their instruments be they pens, pianos, paints, or pictures. How incredible it must be to linger in that space, even if it is uncomfortable. They are risk takers in several ways both physically and emotionally. They push people to reflect about their own lives and invite souls to connect to theirs making them (and us) completely vulnerable. They open fire doors.

I've been thinking about my job - English teacher - a lot lately. I realize how much of my life is consumed by my job, how much I mercilessly give to that profession, and I pray that it's the right thing to do. I hope that my investment is somehow sacred or at least worthy. Otherwise, what the hell am I doing? I love being a teacher, though bureaucracy and money make my job just shy of impossible to do well. I don't care if my students love literature or even reading for that matter. What I do hope for is that they:

1. Learn to weigh their decisions judiciously with the understanding that every decision they make affects something/someone else.

2. Learn that people are people and that none are better than others, that sometimes circumstance affords people opportunities that others do not have and sometimes circumstances are just absolute shit. No matter what, there are people in worse places and ones in better ones. Life isn't fair and we shouldn't form opinions about people or circumstance without considering the truth of this.

3. Learn to effectively communicate with each other via speaking, writing, art, or any other medium they can come up with. This means understanding and implementing "the basics" of reading and writing at the very least, and at the very most creating poetry*.

4. Spend time in mature, honest reflection and form fair, cogent arguments or representations of their ideas to share with others.

5. Learn to think. Period. Especially in a world that is so eager and easy to manipulate..

I happen to use literature as a medium to get them recognize these things. In presenting my understandings of characters and situations, writings and interpretations, I become vulnerable to them and them to me. In this way, I am an artist.

However, I'm so tired. They take too much.

So, really if I could be anything, I would choose something else. Something that doesn't depend on the success or failure of another human - something with less responsibility.. A house cat maybe, or a tree.

* Poetry in this case means, "an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define."

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (If I could be anything, I would be.., this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Friday Night Salon

When was the last time you had a genuine conversation--an experience not of mere self-assertion but of speaking and listening as though you had something both to offer and to receive? Our habits of language define us, but the pace of our lives is such that the simple gestures of listening carefully and speaking prudently are amazingly rare. The Friday Night Salon aims at being an alternative to the urban rush that denies the civilizing graces of community.

1. Are there "unalienable entitlements"?
2. What brings us happiness?
3. Is learning a competitive activity? Should it be?

Friday, April 16, 2010

(im)maturity

Maturity - I have none.

It comes (or probably 'goes is the better term) with the job. I am currently- at this very moment- sitting in a high school writing lab with my literary magazine staff who are lovely, mostly vegan, free spirits. We are on deadline, working furiously late into the afternoon so that we can get the mag to the printer by Monday. We've had coffee and soy milk, peanut free, gluten free, egg-less cookies, and we're just about delirious with our work. Here are brief snippets of random conversations going on around the room:

"The first line of that song makes me feel purple."

"Do you guys want to see a video of me and my friend lip-syncing to a French song?"

(A student is in the middle of a joke until it's hijacked by James)
"Takin' the punchline of my jokes.. (clicking sound) Thanks, James."

"Stop grinding on me like that!"

"Hey, come look at my things!"
"I'll look at your things."
"Your mom has things."

"Goo goo g'joov"

"I am the Walrus."

"Hey guys, do you want to taste some of my delicious margarita candies?"

"That is such bushlee!" (The word the kids use instead of 'bullshit')

"Technology hates me so much right now in this time of my life.."

"Oh how I miss sophomore year in French class!"

"People don't name their children Syphilis!"
"Oh yes they do!"

"Guys, I just had a super awesome idea!!
(Much too enthusiastic high five)
Ow!"

"Ok, I'll shut up now."

"That kiwi looks inviting."


There is no being mature in this job, and I'm ok with that. :) Thanks, my darling Navel Gazers, for your hard work today, even if you have attention spans of gnats!!! (Yarrrr-ly!)

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Maturity, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Art

All art is quite useless. - Oscar Wilde

I want to be able to say that Wilde got it wrong, that art is not only useful but necessary. I want to be able to say that art communicates in a way that words can't, that it crosses divides and erases lines in the sand. One of my friends once argued that in a declining society, art flourishes. It communicates desolation, heartache, and sometimes the few joys that are sifted out of the ashes. I certainly can imagine that to be true.. Also, though, art can be anything - funny, scandalous, horrific, gorgeous - and as such can only hold the meaning assigned to it by the interpreter. In that way, when the interpreter walks away, the art, as Wilde asserts, is useless.

My students often ask me when studying literature how we can truly know what the author's intent truly is in his/her writing. I often tell them that it's not that we're trying to fully know the author's intent, but that there is a communication between the reader and the text. In that place is where we find true, legitimate meaning. Perhaps the meaning only exists in that invisible correspondence between art and viewer. Meaning is less controlled, not firm. It allows for anyone creating anything to be the artist. It allows for reasonable (and unreasonable) conclusions.

The students then ask if they can answer the question of meaning wrong.

"Yes, absolutely," is the answer.

*Painting by Wassily Kandinsky
This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Art, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Friends and Enemies

I had trouble writing about this topic, honestly. I really wanted to write about politics - how they've invaded our friendships and families like a virus does, invisibly, violently. Politics have destroyed relationships to the point that we have to pretend that all is well even though our differing opinions sit at the surface of every conversation, unspoken yet understood. So, I'll post a pop video. Pink. She's fun. We all deal with self loathing, so..



This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Friends and Enemies, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Independence v. Freedom

Christine and I had just driven into the big city in bumper to bumper traffic after a quickly devoured dinner and a sloppy 'distract and run' toddler maneuver. We had worked all day during what most educators in Texas formally call "the week we attempted to bring down democracy (against our wills) thanks to fat cat capitalists and a deal they made with the devil," also known as, "the demise of public education in America." (Most people, though, know it as the week of TAKS* testing.) And here we were, tripping our way into an unfamiliar auditorium, preparing ourselves for what we hoped would be a grain of inspiration.

We settled in to listen to Dr. Diane Ravitch, author of The Death and Life of the Great American System when we bumped into friends, Irina and Paula. We know these incredibly intelligent and insightful women from the Friday Night Salon group we sometimes attend. We sat down next to them and after settling in I brought up our consortium topic for this week and hoped for their input as, of course, they would have something brilliant to include. Rather than trying to write my way through sporadic dialogue and note passing during the event, I decided, instead, to show you my scattered notes:

The top half obviously is our thoughts on independence (note that I accidentally wrote independent at first - Freudian slip, as Irina pointed out). Freedom is at the bottom. Oddly, as we were brainstorming I decided that both words have negative connotations to me. Independence often leads to lessons learned in literature. Freedom has become a buzzword for American everything. We throw it around like it's cheap and most of the time use it in instances of blind patriotism. "I've never had an independence fry," Irina pointed out, grinning.

*Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills
This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Independence v. Freedom, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Friday, April 23, 2010

If I could be anything, I would be..

...an artist. Any kind: writer, musician, painter, or photographer... Here's why:
True artists immerse themselves in their creativity, reposing with their muses for a while, feeling their souls break free from their bodies through extensions of their instruments be they pens, pianos, paints, or pictures. How incredible it must be to linger in that space, even if it is uncomfortable. They are risk takers in several ways both physically and emotionally. They push people to reflect about their own lives and invite souls to connect to theirs making them (and us) completely vulnerable. They open fire doors.

I've been thinking about my job - English teacher - a lot lately. I realize how much of my life is consumed by my job, how much I mercilessly give to that profession, and I pray that it's the right thing to do. I hope that my investment is somehow sacred or at least worthy. Otherwise, what the hell am I doing? I love being a teacher, though bureaucracy and money make my job just shy of impossible to do well. I don't care if my students love literature or even reading for that matter. What I do hope for is that they:

1. Learn to weigh their decisions judiciously with the understanding that every decision they make affects something/someone else.

2. Learn that people are people and that none are better than others, that sometimes circumstance affords people opportunities that others do not have and sometimes circumstances are just absolute shit. No matter what, there are people in worse places and ones in better ones. Life isn't fair and we shouldn't form opinions about people or circumstance without considering the truth of this.

3. Learn to effectively communicate with each other via speaking, writing, art, or any other medium they can come up with. This means understanding and implementing "the basics" of reading and writing at the very least, and at the very most creating poetry*.

4. Spend time in mature, honest reflection and form fair, cogent arguments or representations of their ideas to share with others.

5. Learn to think. Period. Especially in a world that is so eager and easy to manipulate..

I happen to use literature as a medium to get them recognize these things. In presenting my understandings of characters and situations, writings and interpretations, I become vulnerable to them and them to me. In this way, I am an artist.

However, I'm so tired. They take too much.

So, really if I could be anything, I would choose something else. Something that doesn't depend on the success or failure of another human - something with less responsibility.. A house cat maybe, or a tree.

* Poetry in this case means, "an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define."

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (If I could be anything, I would be.., this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Friday Night Salon

When was the last time you had a genuine conversation--an experience not of mere self-assertion but of speaking and listening as though you had something both to offer and to receive? Our habits of language define us, but the pace of our lives is such that the simple gestures of listening carefully and speaking prudently are amazingly rare. The Friday Night Salon aims at being an alternative to the urban rush that denies the civilizing graces of community.

1. Are there "unalienable entitlements"?
2. What brings us happiness?
3. Is learning a competitive activity? Should it be?

Friday, April 16, 2010

(im)maturity

Maturity - I have none.

It comes (or probably 'goes is the better term) with the job. I am currently- at this very moment- sitting in a high school writing lab with my literary magazine staff who are lovely, mostly vegan, free spirits. We are on deadline, working furiously late into the afternoon so that we can get the mag to the printer by Monday. We've had coffee and soy milk, peanut free, gluten free, egg-less cookies, and we're just about delirious with our work. Here are brief snippets of random conversations going on around the room:

"The first line of that song makes me feel purple."

"Do you guys want to see a video of me and my friend lip-syncing to a French song?"

(A student is in the middle of a joke until it's hijacked by James)
"Takin' the punchline of my jokes.. (clicking sound) Thanks, James."

"Stop grinding on me like that!"

"Hey, come look at my things!"
"I'll look at your things."
"Your mom has things."

"Goo goo g'joov"

"I am the Walrus."

"Hey guys, do you want to taste some of my delicious margarita candies?"

"That is such bushlee!" (The word the kids use instead of 'bullshit')

"Technology hates me so much right now in this time of my life.."

"Oh how I miss sophomore year in French class!"

"People don't name their children Syphilis!"
"Oh yes they do!"

"Guys, I just had a super awesome idea!!
(Much too enthusiastic high five)
Ow!"

"Ok, I'll shut up now."

"That kiwi looks inviting."


There is no being mature in this job, and I'm ok with that. :) Thanks, my darling Navel Gazers, for your hard work today, even if you have attention spans of gnats!!! (Yarrrr-ly!)

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Maturity, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Art

All art is quite useless. - Oscar Wilde

I want to be able to say that Wilde got it wrong, that art is not only useful but necessary. I want to be able to say that art communicates in a way that words can't, that it crosses divides and erases lines in the sand. One of my friends once argued that in a declining society, art flourishes. It communicates desolation, heartache, and sometimes the few joys that are sifted out of the ashes. I certainly can imagine that to be true.. Also, though, art can be anything - funny, scandalous, horrific, gorgeous - and as such can only hold the meaning assigned to it by the interpreter. In that way, when the interpreter walks away, the art, as Wilde asserts, is useless.

My students often ask me when studying literature how we can truly know what the author's intent truly is in his/her writing. I often tell them that it's not that we're trying to fully know the author's intent, but that there is a communication between the reader and the text. In that place is where we find true, legitimate meaning. Perhaps the meaning only exists in that invisible correspondence between art and viewer. Meaning is less controlled, not firm. It allows for anyone creating anything to be the artist. It allows for reasonable (and unreasonable) conclusions.

The students then ask if they can answer the question of meaning wrong.

"Yes, absolutely," is the answer.

*Painting by Wassily Kandinsky
This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Art, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Friends and Enemies

I had trouble writing about this topic, honestly. I really wanted to write about politics - how they've invaded our friendships and families like a virus does, invisibly, violently. Politics have destroyed relationships to the point that we have to pretend that all is well even though our differing opinions sit at the surface of every conversation, unspoken yet understood. So, I'll post a pop video. Pink. She's fun. We all deal with self loathing, so..



This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Friends and Enemies, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.