50 Shades of Red

From: Me

Subject: Why?

Date: October 19 2012 12:30 EST

To: My darling Risse

“Why did I ever agree to do this?”

The question spilled out of me as I talked to you this morning about my looming hour-long presentation for my state English conference.

You know I have presented here before, once as part of a group in a writing workshop setting, once as part of a dual lesson presentation linked thematically with another teacher, and last year my first time solo-ing. And I – like you – “present” every day in front of a group of demanding high school juniors and seniors. But the ante is upped when you’re in front of your peers, even if they’re strangers.

“How do I look? Do I have my copies of my packet packed? Do I have my extra paper and markers? Is my opening strong enough? What about the closing? How risky/risqué should I get, with the title of my presentation referencing the very non-English curriculum book 50 Shades of Grey?” And a little irrational Sally Field voice stirs in the back of my mind, “Will they really like me?”

I should have waited until I had my answer.

The presentation was called “50 Shades of Love: Exploring the Lost Genre of Letter Writing.” It was an appeal to teachers to think about teaching a universal theme that is often overlooked: love. And to use a genre that is becoming antiquated: letter writing. The 50 Shades reference was at first just a creative hook, something I always appreciate in choosing presentations to attend, and one you warned me against. But it became a link that I used after reading the book, at your urging, before the conference.

The presentation was admittedly shaky at parts. Perhaps it wasn’t the best strategy to approach an unknown audience by comparing the theme of the book to the total control that administrators expect us to have in the classroom, nor re-reading Christian Grey’s rules for a sexual relationship substituting “Student” every time it said “Submissive” and “Teacher” when it said “Dominant.” Granted, I took out all of the sexual references in it, but still it seemed a good idea at the time. (Example: “The Student will obey any instructions given by the Teacher immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner.”) I can almost see you rolling your eyes at me. It was a risk, I admit, especially with people who don’t know me or how to take me.

Thinking silver lining, however, I was able to bring it around and get the group interaction and discussion going as I had planned as my major goal. And getting participants to write a love letter, or at least a note of appreciation. (I even wrote one myself, for you.)

So, back to the question. “Why did I ever agree to do this?”

I asked another presenter the question to help get an answer. She said she did it as a condition of getting a $500 mini-grant. “Did you get a grant?” she asked.

“No.”

She continued that another possible reason was that we enjoy sharing with fellow English teachers and pre-service teachers something that we’ve taught that worked.

“I never taught this lesson before.”

So still no answer, but I’m glad I asked the question. Because it got me to continue the inquiry that began the first thing this morning, and find my own answer. When the pressure was off.

I did the presentation because I want people to look at things differently. It’s been my major theme with my students for years. You can’t settle for things as they always have been, because times change and you need to be adaptable to any change, I say.

So the way that I should have framed it, to both the veteran teachers and the pre-service teachers, is this:

     I want you to look at what you do. And I want you to look at what the state and federal      

     government mandate that you do. And I want you to put that all aside, because I want to talk to 

     you about looking at yourself, and having your students look at themselves, in a different way.

     When is the last time you explained to someone that you love them? When is the last time that 

     you put it in writing? What has happened to the “love” letter? What has happened to the art 

     of written romance?

     With most people choosing to express their feelings in an email, or tweet, or text message, or 

     sext-message, what are we doing as teachers to teach students about expressing themselves 

     properly, elegantly, in dealing with this most basic of human emotions? What are we having 

     them read to show role models in this universal theme -- Romeo and Juliet? What are we having 

     them write that is as motivating as the expression of love?

     And so in my presentation I give you historical and fictional love letters, from people like Abigail 

     Adams and Macbeth, who really knew how to express their feelings to “My Dearest Friend” 

     and “my dearest partner of greatness.” I give you a guiding structure for the love letter. But most 

     of all, I give you the time here today to write to your significant other, or someone who has had a 

     big influence on you, or someone who has made a difference in your life. And I implore you to 

     give them this letter. And get your students to write and send their letters of love and/or 

     appreciation. Writing doesn’t have to be an assignment, it can be a gift.

That’s what I should have said, if only I had been less concerned with the anxiety of doing what I thought I had to and focused more on what I really wanted to share. And maybe it’s the new reality all teachers face every day in education with the new standards and assessments.

So before I get back to checking how my sub did -- and in this case I do mean by substitute, not Submissive:) -- or get back to lesson planning, or grading, or cleaning the house, or all the million other things that are tangled up in everyday life as a professional, a husband and a father, let me make sure I take my own advice.

Here, Risse, is my gift to you:

When I first saw you smile, I was enticed.

When you held my hand, unexpectedly,

I was entranced.

But when you said “I do,” I was utterly

ridiculously

exquisitely

head-over-heels

happy.

Laters, baby.

I'll Take Generational Movies for Fun, Alex

“We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all.”

                                                                              -- Andrew (Emilio Estevez) in The Breakfast Club
 ________________________________________________________________________________

A student last year gave me a homework assignment.

“You know what you should do? If you really want to get to understand us, you should watch our movies,” this high school senior said.

“Which movies?”

At this point, he rattled off a list of about three or four movies. Some of them I’d actually heard of. “You know what, I’ll bring some in for you.”

A couple days later, he came in with a nondescript brown plastic bag (perfect once I saw the movies). I opened it to find my homework: Superbad (2007), Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay (2008), Anchorman (2004), a standup comedy video from Eddie Griffin, Friday After Next (2002) and How High (2001). Imagine the look on my wife’s face coming into the living room during one of the racier sex/drug scenes from How High. “I’m doing homework, I swear.”

What a great assignment. Fun. But also an exercise in thematic development, and reflection.

I responded with a thanks, and a list of movies from my teenage years. “If you really want to get to understand me …” type of thing. Quid pro quo.

It was tougher than I thought. The easy route was to take the most popular movies of the day: Animal House, Blues Brothers, The Terminator. But those were little reflection on teenage life. (Animal House is the closest but that was really about college in the 1960s rather than high school in the early ‘80s.) I began my list quickly with Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982) and The Breakfast Club (1985), but then stumbled several minutes before recalling Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986), Risky Business (1983) and Revenge of the Nerds (1984).

My wife – a fellow English teacher whom I also gave the assignment – said it was interesting because you’d get different lists depending upon the individual’s gender and geography. (She grew up on Long Island suburbia while I was raised in Idaho farm country.) Fast Times didn’t even reach her radar; she went more John Hughes with Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club.

A great follow up assignment would be a comparison piece between different people and/or different generations. For example, I was somewhat disheartened after viewing my student’s list, and thinking how this young inner-city African American boy and his peers were being inundated by distorted Hollywood messages about sex, drugs, profanity and a general lackadaisical – if not antagonist – view toward school and work.

Then I looked at my own list. Spicoli, Guido the Killer Pimp, “Bueller, Bueller, Bueller…?”

Maybe we’re not so different. Good lesson.

ALTERNATE LESSON:  For further work in thematic development and reflection, have students list their favorite songs and analyze what that says about their times or their personality.

###

Dialogue with my Blog

‘How come everyone who writes about school reform works some place other than a school?’

BLOG:  Welcome.

ME:  Forgive me, Blog, for I have not written. It has been … 278 days since my last post.

B:  Do you feel you need forgiveness?

M:  Of course.

B:  Why have you not written?

M:  I was busy.

B:  With what?

M:  With teaching. With grading. With differentiating instruction. With diagnosing at-risk kids. With trying to motivate middle-of-the-road kids. With making sure I don’t ignore the “top” students. With creating lesson plans in a new format mandated by the state in our school restructuring plan. With digesting all of the requirements and changes coming from Race to the Top, Common Core Learning Standards, APPR, SLOs. With spending hours justifying, no proving, that I am an “effective” teacher. Oh, and with being a parent, of course.

B:  My, you were busy. With all of that, why did you ever go into teaching?

M:  I remember I was thinking about a career change, what I could do, and all of my goals fit education.

B:  What were your goals?

M:  For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be able to share what I knew, to make people laugh, and to be a positive role model.

B:  And have you done that?

M:  Other than making people laugh. My jokes tend to meet with blank stares. What do you think: “Don’t read Crime and Punishment too quickly, scholars. Just because it’s Dostoevsky doesn’t mean you have to go Russian through it.”

B:  …

M:  Sorry.

B:  Do you agree that all these school reform efforts are making school better?

M:  No. I disagree with many of them, at least the way they are implemented at the local school level.

B:  So what do you do to change things?

M:  I try to meet them as best as I can, and to adapt the ones I can to the needs of my kids. (And ignore the ones I can’t. Shh, don’t tell.) It’s all about the kids in front of me.

B:  Okay, why do you write?

M:  Because I like it. It’s my passion. It’s my release.

B:  And what do you like to write about?

M:  “About life, education and the amazing interconnectedness of everything in the Beginner’s Mind.”

B:  Really?

M:  Okay, about whatever’s happening to me, whatever I’m thinking about.

B:  And what are you thinking about?

M:  Usually school. The past year. Successes and failures. Students. Preparing for the coming year and the new students.

B:  You said students twice. Do you make them write?

M:  Of course, I’m an English teacher. I have some in-class assignments and also make them write 20 minutes a night exploring their thoughts in a Writer’s Notebook journal.

B:  And is writing their passion?

M:  Usually not.

B: Do they like to write?

M:  Usually not.

B:  Do you find that they are less busy than you?

M:  Not really. Some of them have crazy schedules, between school, extracurricular activities, work, and family. And many of them have some incredible pressures from friends, family and community. In the past year alone, I faced students who talked about suicide, pregnancy, abortion, dealing with child care, drinking, drugs, sexual relations, divorced parents, parents in jail, parents who were deported… the list goes on.

B:  Wow. And with all that, you still make them spend their time writing? Why?

M:  It’s important. They need to take the time to practice so that they get better at it. I need to get them in the habit of writing beyond one or two short-answer sentences. They need to move past the snap impressions that they make in a few seconds. They need time to explore their thoughts, to explore new and/or difficult thoughts. They are our future. They are the ones who can create the changes we need for a better society. Who knows, maybe one of them could have a scientific discovery, a major medical cure or even an inspirational poem or novel in their future, if only they let themselves explore the workings of their own minds.

B:  And you believe they can create this change with their writing?

M:  Absolutely.

B:  What’s holding them back?

M:  Many of them lack confidence in their own ideas. They don’t see themselves as potential agents for change. They don’t see themselves as writers. I remember the author Neil Gaiman once writing that everyone has ideas, sometimes even the strange ideas that result in imaginative fiction, and the only difference between them and “writers” is that the writer writes down his ideas.

B:  Do you see yourself as a writer?

M:  I’d like to think so.

B:  And do you have confidence in your ideas?

M:  Usually.

B:  And do you see yourself as a potential agent for change?

M:  Yes, but …

B:  I’m sorry to interrupt you, but what makes you different from the people who are making these changes in education? Recall that article in The Voice, in which Joe Check, the teacher/author who heads the Boston Writing Project, discusses the question: “How come almost everyone who writes about school reform works some place other than a school?” He said, and I quote, "In our ongoing national dialogue on school reform, there are few voices from `the bottom' that matter. We are missing the unmediated voice of practitioners who are actually attempting reform, achieving it, failing at it, or partially achieving it and wondering why they haven't done better."

M:  But those guys have the time to think about these issues and write about them. That’s their job. My job is to teach, not tell stories.

B: But Joe Check says it’s not about storytelling, but that well-written narratives about what’s actually happening in the classrooms trying reform “create communities by compelling attention and response. They advance dialogue that makes change possible." Don’t you try reform efforts in your class?

M:  Yes, but …

B:  And do you agree that it’s important to add the voices of practitioners into the mix?

M:  Yes, but ...

B:  And if it’s important, isn’t that something, and I quote, “they need to take time” to do? Like writing, for your students?

M:  …

B:  Forgive me, but how long has it been since your last post?

M:  268 days.

B:  As penance, I want you to keep writing, so you can be a positive role model for your students and your fellow teachers on “the bottom.” I want you to publish, and share what you know, what you’re learning, what you’re thinking. I want you to be the change that you want to see. And, heaven forgive me, I want you to make people laugh. But really work on that last one.

M:  No promises.

B:  Okay, I expect to see you tomorrow.

###

Inside the Teenage Brain

Will Smith once said "Parents Just Don't Understand," and scientists now know why. Parade Magazine ran a feature article that delved into the inner workings of the teenage brain and discovered -- surprise -- your brains really are different than those of adults. In fact, the article compares the teenage brain to a Ferrari: "It's sleek, shiny, sexy, and fast, and it corners really well. But it also has really crappy brakes."
 
Read what they have to say at "Inside the Teenage Brain" and post a comment responding to it. Do you really have "crappy brakes"?

Poetry 102

I may have to change my description as a reluctant poet. Seems as though since I have been exploring poetry to teach it, I have been thinking in those terms, too. On Friday, the morning after I presented my teacher workshop Introduction to Slam Poetry, I was listening to a radio news story about a 2-year-old Chinese girl who was run over by two cars. Video of the accident created a furor because it shows 18 people driving or walking past without helping the girl. The latest news in the story was that she had died. Immediately, what flashed into my head were the lines: "She was only 2. They were 18." And I continued writing lines in my head as I drove.


Later that morning, I was in a workshop led by slam poet Taylor Mali. (See my interview with him in a future post.) I wanted to continue working on the piece, but he gave us a separate prompt. He wanted us to describe something that had happened to us, something true, and to write it as one sentence. Near the end of the 5-minute free write, he asked us to include three adjectives in a row. A minute later, he asked us to add a rhyme. I never thought I could write within those parameters, but I quickly decided that I could adapt some of the thoughts from my morning drive. Then I found myself wanting to share it when Taylor sought audience volunteers.

I thought the highlight was winning a rock-paper-scissors contest that Taylor made another male teacher and myself battle to be the last presenter. Or getting a critique of my poem/presentation from Taylor. But it was actually having people come up to me afterward saying how they liked it, how it touched them, and I had requests for a copy of the poem.

So here it is, the unedited rough version of the 5-minute free write, followed by the DVD extras of "Behind the Scenes" of the Poem and an Alternate Poem (or a rough draft of the original poem developed on the morning drive).

ROUGH CUT:

ODE TO TAYLOR MALI AND A TWO-YEAR-OLD FROM CHINA,

or HEY WORLD, WAKE THE F*** UP

This morning, before my wife and two little girls woke up

and I got to kiss them goodbye

and wish them a fantastic day,

as I went off to meet a poet who has inspired me –

me, an admitted non-poet

or a “reluctant poet” within the mixed company of my English teaching family –

and tell him how he’s gotten me to think in verse,

I heard a story on the radio

about a 2-year-old from China

who laid on the ground for several minutes

after getting run over by two cars

and 18 people drove or walked past her

not a single one stopping to help,

and she died today,

and all I could think was

how uncaring

how unseeing

how desperately oblivious

we – as a society –are today

to watch one single child die,

and we say goodbye

to a child

a future

an innocent life,

but hopefully we can use this as a lesson,

and I am glad I kissed my girls today

and wished them a fanstastic day.

DVD EXTRA #1
Behind the Scenes of the 5-minute Free Write Poem:

Phew! What may or may not be obvious to audience members at the workshop was how nervous I was, shaking in my chest and in my legs, even though I am used to being up in front of people. What no one there knew was that my use of profanity (the "F-bomb" in the title) is something that is part of the spirit of the piece, and not a word that I'm used to using. And what Taylor couldn't know, as he commented post-poem that he is not necessary in the piece, is that it wasn't a sucking-up or patronizing tactic, but rather was an actual part of the story, keeping it true.


DVD EXTRA #2
Alternate Poem

When I got home, I shared the story with my wife and kids. And then I went to finishing the original poem I was thinking in my car. So here is that one:

ROUGH CUT: 

SHE WAS ONLY TWO

She was only 2.

They were 18.

She lay bleeding and suffering on the sidewalk.

They drove or walked by, unblinking, unseeing, unhelping.

She was only 2.

They are 1.3 billion.

They are evolving to a fast-paced, consumer-driven economic power full of hope.

She was evolving into a beautiful life, as any toddler, full of hope.

She was only 2.

We are 7 billion.

She, like any child, looked at the world with searching eyes.

We race through life, seeing only the next thing we “need” to do, the next thing we “need” to buy, the last thing we did, the last person who screwed us, and a hundred million other pieces of f***ing nonsense.

Our children are our future.

But they are also our teachers, teaching us

how to slow down

how to enjoy,

if only we will watch and listen

with open eyes and a caring heart,

not pass them by

without a second look.

She was only 2.

Poetry 101

I have always described myself as a reluctant poet. I never really thought about the actual words. I meant to call myself a non-poet, but the reluctant part implies that, subconsciously at least, believe there is something of the poet inside me. And after exploring this side of myself over the past couple weeks, and at the urging of a few people, I decided to publish some rough drafts of my own poetry.

The origins of "How Long Does It Have To Be?" come from a writing prompt the first time I presented a teacher workshop on the non-poet's Introduction to Slam Poetry a few years ago.

I worked on it a little more before my latest workshop on it. Good thing, too. When my technology cut out on me at the end, leaving me without the slam poetry video clip I meant to end with, or even a secondary choice, I had to do something to avoid ending on such a down note. So I got out my notebook and read this poem. It's still rough, definitely needs some work, but I had a request to share it. So here it is:

 

Rough Cut:

“How Long Does It Have To Be?”

You know the feeling,

you work long and hard

developing a writing assignment that will challenge students

to think

to inquire

to reflect

to perspire.

Painstaking efforts go into drafting and describing it.

You are excited; you know the students will be excited.

And as you’re about to fire the figurative starting gun

to let them go off to the races,

a single innocent hand arises:

“How long does it have to be?”

The question stops you for just a second.

You recover with the well-prepared answer:

“As long as it takes.”

The expression of the students who owns the hand

turns from question to exasperation,

infecting a few faces around him.

 “Why does every freakin’ English teacher say that?”

A million thoughts flash through the teaching mind,

sorting through the chaff,

discarding the hugely inappropriate,

looking for that perfect “teaching moment” answer.

“Is that true? Does every English teacher say that?

Have I used that on this class before?

When’s the last time I used it?

Am I repeating myself?

Am I … gulp … unoriginal?

No! You’re the unoriginal one.

Every student asks that.

Why don’t you trust yourself,

Write til you’re done?

Why not avoid being lazy and ask the exact length

so you can write to the minimum word count and end exactly there,

sometimes in mid-sent…

Why does every freakin’ English teacher say that?

Could it be because it’s true?

Is it just a conspiracy designed to brainwash all students?

Is it in the text Everything You Wanted to Know About Teaching English, but Were Afraid Someone Would Ask?

Am I just pure evil?

Are you in hell?

Am I?

AYKM (Are you Kidding Me)?

OMG?!”

The agape mouths in the classroom audience tell me

as an expert reader of young minds

that what I though was a masterful display of teacher “wait time”

was not.

I withheld my last question for myself alone:

“Did I say that out loud?”

The original unoriginal student is the first to blink.

He slumps back into his desk, crosses his arms

and asks one final thing:

“Are you just gonna keep asking questions?”

I recover quickly.

“Of course. That’s what I do.

As long as it takes.”

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

To be great is to be misunderstood.               

                                                                                   -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

_________________________________________________________________________________

Thank you, Steve Jobs.

I was driving to work today, puzzling over how to best help students navigate Ralph Waldo Emerson’s language to the themes in his 1841 essay on “Self Reliance,” when I heard a modern interpretation resonate clearly through my radio’s speakers.

An NPR story was memorializing the Apple founder, and included a valuable snippet of his 2005 commencement speech at Stanford University.

I had the answer I was seeking. So, in class, I stepped back from my usual talk and let Mr. Jobs explain Emerson to my students in his own words:

“Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

The message of trusting yourself, trusting your instincts and following up on them, seem to resonate through his speech and his life. It’s a message I want to instill in my own kids, which includes my students.

I had been following Jobs’ career for several years, especially his innovations and leadership that led to the resurgence of Apple. But that was just business news. I didn’t know about the challenges he overcame in his youth, and even the challenges he faced when being fired from the company he founded. And how he faced these challenges head on, never giving up, never giving in, but rather persevering and growing even stronger.

Unfortunately, it took his death to make me appreciate his life.

So thank you, Steve Jobs. Thank you for modeling the way we should face adversity, the way we should fight the tempting pulls of conformity and foolhardy consistency, the way we should rely on our selves to be great. Thank you for inspiring me to scrap my initial lesson plan in the face of something better. And thank you for passing on a message from your own youth: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.”

I think I just gained a new screensaver message.

To check out the speech yourself or for your students, click on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1R-jKKp3NA and you can get a text of the speech at http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html.

Listen, love it, live it.

-30-