Picnic and Poetry

The LitMag Scalawags hosted their first poetry reading of the year today. Items of interest included a Wonderlandish array of colors, faerie lights, ticky clocks, community tea, and a yellow rubber ducky called (using your best pirate accent) Yar'ly! The theme of this fantastic fete was Civil Liberties, a challenge inspired by a sunny shod Corduroy Kid. In solidarity with our lovely friends across the pond who are actively promoting rights for all of our brothers and sisters, we read poems that both celebrated the liberties we have and pointed fingers at the ones that have been infringed upon. We are all too aware that we are losing our freedoms under the guise of "safety" - or are we truly aware? And that's partly the point, I think.

Hedonistic Afternoon, Serious and True

Two girls at a coffee house are giddy at the realization that they can get their coffee in actual mugs - colorful and substantial - like the regulars they imagine themselves to be, instead of in those lifeless, generic paper cups.

"Vanilla latte!" the barista calls, "and a mocha frappe!"

The girls, smiling, skip to the counter to retrieve their overflowing cups of well deserved goodness and then return to their Geo-political discussions, unmarked reminders of their professionalism aside. As they continue their conversation, they find themselves in a state of discontent. They turn their mugs this way and that, confused. Frustrated. How, they wonder, are they supposed to actually consume their coffees from these lovely mugs that they celebrated just three minutes ago?

And then they note the folks around them who are staring and giggling at the girls' blatant awkwardness.

"Ah, go ahead. Put your face in it," one particularly large man on the corner couch brays in between unanswered blue tooth demands.

And they heed the advice with complete determination (or was it defiance?), remembering the words extolled by their new, matching, oddly sagacious fridge magnets:

"Ever notice that what the hell is always the right decision?"

"Forget you, Vanity! We will not be held back by society's presumptuous laws of decorum! " they silently exclaim to one another in a single glance. With a shadow of a smirk, their eyebrows raised, they dive in head first.

As they emerge from their mugs, victorious- the coffee conflict conquered- they declare, in their most confident warble to the man on the couch and to all of the other distracted caffeine connoisseurs, "We like whipped cream on our noses! So there! Take that!"

And they did.

Redefining Our Complacent Zones

The first assignment we give our International Baccalaureate students before we even meet them is to research a current international issue: find at least 2 editorial/opinion articles about the issue and 2 factual ones from reputable sources; write/create some sort of reflection on the issue (can be creative); write a letter (with the recipient's address) taking a stance on the issue; and present the findings in front of the class on the first day of school.

This is a great assignment. It gets the students thinking outside of their complacent zones. It makes them realize that the world is bigger than week-ends at the malls. It allows them to see people in other countries as people, and not as statistics. You would really and truly think that this assignment - asking people to think about others - would be incredibly beneficial to the student and to the world.

Here's the thing: the students are kids. They complete all of the parameters of the assignment for the grade and somehow do not take ownership of the issue. In fact, several of them this year have begun their presentations with disclaimers that sound something like:

"That thing in Darfur is like a really big deal and all, and like all Americans should like help and stuff, but like I think we should also like focus on our stuff here in America 'cause we can't like just help everyone."

Or they speak in skewed generalities. For example, one person said, "All women in Afghanistan are raped, beaten, and burned and they all want to leave their husbands because all of the men there are in the Taliban. One way they escape this torture is by going to jail where at least they are safe."

Another said, "China is totally ridiculous. They threw homeless people in jail to clean up the city for the Olympics which is like so egotistical and wrong. Communism is horrible."

And another: "Russia attacked poor Georgia because in Russia, under Communism, you don't get to choose what you want to do with your life, so they throw boys into the army. The Russian army has no regard for human life whatsoever, and all they want to do is brutally kill people. But America won't stop them because we are afraid of starting another Cold War."

You should have seen me trying not to interject. I mean my job is to teach, right? But at the same time, I am not supposed to interrupt a presentation - IB rules. I am supposed to respectfully write comments on my grade sheet. And I certainly would not want to embarrass them, especially since I am going to ask them to continue to give presentations confidently, these oral presentations/commentaries counting for 30% of their international diploma assessment - as in their opinions will be considered internationally, graded by folks in places like Cardiff, Rome, Dubai, Hong Kong, Burma, etc. I do write comments such as "biased opinion - check your facts" or "conjecture - be careful about guessing" or "where is your evidence?" Unfortunately, my comments don't unravel the knot in my stomach. Are most of us (Americans) so incredibly blind to the truths of our world?

Interestingly enough, this year's presentations are FAR better than the ones I listened to two years ago when the students all researched "the problem with Iraq" or "Israel v. Palestine." For both of these topics, students two years ago were pretty much in favor of Shock and Awe, and I could see in their eyes American fighter jets doing fly-bys - red, white and blue smoke ribbons dancing across the sky. Ick. At least these days, the students don't automatically assume that American politics are right, though I did have a student this year talk about the right way to "build a border wall to keep those people out." (sigh)

A lot of what I hear is parent opinion. And yes, I am aware that these 16-year-olds are doing well to at least listen to the conversations going on in their homes. But it turns out that I disagree with most of what I'm hearing. Maybe it's because I live in a place where the older generation especially is uncomfortable with change. Many are more comfortable with a militaristic America- an us v. them, a "patriotism before globalism" situation. I get that, I guess. And I can see it in our politics.

In the past we were pretty far removed from the rest of the world. We were more family oriented and we knew our neighbors. We knew what we believed as far as religion was concerned, and any deviation from that comfortable space was simply termed "sin". We didn't know about other countries or religions, other than what was in the local paper or in the National Geographic magzines under our coffee tables. Being patriotic was easier. We knew what "American" looked like.

Things are different today. We interact with people on various continents through technology. We are free to practice just about any kind of religion we want. Different is the new norm. Some of this is great - I adore my friends across the ocean. I love being able to Google information about other people or read their blogs. I feel connected to the world in this respect. I have a better idea about my own spirituality. I am self-sufficient and educated. Some of this is sad - Family time is practically nonexistent or seems very forced as a result of our incredibly fast paced American lifestyle. We no longer speak to our neighbors over the backyard fence. I only know one of my neighbors by his first name. My family is pretty far removed, or rather I am from them. I don't go to church because my religious ideology can't be defined so definitely. Our communities are somewhat more neglected.

But it is what it is. And because of globalisation, there is a greater responsibility for all of us to seek credible information about others and work harder on our relationships, whether they be local or global. We have to be more intentional about creating community - which we can do in our physical neighborhoods, as well as in our virtual ones. Our kids need to be aware of this new burden, and as thier teacher, I feel a heavy responsibility to teach it to them.

What I'm seeing in my classroom and, I suppose, in my country is some floundering in an in-between space. We are just learning how to decipher the good information (on the web especially) from the shit and how to form an eduacted opinion about what we've learned. We are trying to redefine our relationships with local communities while working at really seeing the rest of the world. We know what phrases or taglines to use in our language, but we are just starting to investigate whether or not they are valid. This is a process. We are dealing with an identity change, and because of globalisation we are having to adapt more quickly than is comfortable, hence the polar opposite messages of our presidential candidates. I personally feel like I'm sprinting - trying to keep up. This makes me uncomfortable. But at the same time, I feel exhilarated.

Return of the 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. We begin with good food and drink, then take our places in a circle for discussion about a variety of relevant, substantial topics. It's a welcome way to end the Dallas workweek.

Discussion topics for September 5, 2008:
1. Does civilization diminish a people's courage over time?
2. Has globalism altered our obligations to the stranger?
3. G. Washington's farewell warning against "the mischiefs of foreign intrigue": political naïveté or visionary counsel?

To those who think failure is not an option, take this!

17 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

I love how they clarify "failure" in parenthesis after "very poor," in case you think "very poor" means "totally awesome". Apparently, as a traditional wife, I am a complete and total failure. And according to the test, I am one dangling bra strap away from standing over my trailer park hot plate, the mac and cheese burning; a cigarette dangling from my toothless mouth; the screaming bastard children in their tatty rags playing with matches on the flea infested rug.

Sorry boys, I'm taken..

(Thanks, I think, to Chelle for the link.)

Does anyone have a beached whale I can borrow?

Every year around this time - the time when I am so sick of feeling like I reside in a German sauna where one is not only uncomfortable because of the insane heat that disallows breath, but is also uncomfortable because one is awkwardly looking (read "trying not to look") at the extremely hairy, heavy set man in the one-size-fits-all speedo and his topless wife, both of whom must be at least 72 years old (Can boobs really hang that low? I'm talking about him, not her..), and where one, in said sauna, can only smell European "old person" (which happens, I just read, to not exist - old people do not have a distinctive smell; they simply bathe less often because they don't give a shit about offending anyone) mixed with mildewy egg water that the couple keeps ladling over the hot rocks..- I go a little crazy.

In short, I've had enough of the summer heat.

It makes me cranky.

And it can't be that it's just hot, like El Paso's manageable heat that feels like God has pointed the world's biggest hairdryer (duh, it's God's hairdryer) in one's face. It has to be 90% humid, too. It's so humid that I think beached whales could survive out of the water here, if they could tolerate the heat that is.

Anyway. This happens every year. Every year I reach this breaking point. Every year I fall on my knees and beg the earth goddess to throw me a freaking bone. Then I pout for the next 4 months until December when it cools off to a chilly 65 degrees and I whine about wanting to go swimming. "Where," I beg in an angelic sniveling voice, "Where oh where is Fall?"

This year I am going to be more proactive. I've decided that since the Metroplex sidesteps the pleasantries of Fall and careens head-first into the dead of "winter", I will have to simulate my own in-between season. Here's a list of what I need on hand to be successful:

* one pumpkin spice candle
* several silk orange, yellow, and brown leaves
* several real orange, yellow, and brown leaves (for stomping)
* a bag of candy corn
* a bag of kettle corn
* a hay bale or two
* apples and a large wash tub
* a bouquet of unsharpened pencils
* a pleasant looking scarecrow (not the scary kind that can sometimes be mistaken for an actual person)
* a taxidermied crow
* a pot of chrysanthemums
* maize

Or I could simply walk down the seasonal aisle at Hobby Lobby.

Make, make a ______________.

Thanks to Heather Armstrong's friends, I can't get this out of my head. I wouldn't be me if I didn't share the pain and cut it in half. So here you go:


And a rip rap rippity doo.