Category Archives: Writing Life

Who Me? Stylish?

Posted on February 11, 2011 | 19 comments

" You read me? You really read me?!"

I said I was taking a break from blogging to work on my book.

I must not have been very convincing because the next thing I know, I received this message from Clay Morgan over at Educlaytion: “I have something for you over at my blog.” Well, for the love of Pete, that’s like crack. I mean, how can anyone resist that? You would have to have to be one cold-blooded bitch not to heed the call of a fellow blogger.

So I popped over to Clay’s blog and found an honor bestowed.

Clay has passed along the esteemed Stylish Blogger Award.

I’m told that in order to accept The Stylish Blogger Award, nominees must do the following:

  1. Write seven things about yourself.
  2. Present the award to six bloggers.
  3. Contact those people.
  4. Create a link back to the person who did this to for you.

I started looking around the blogosphere, and I have to say I’ve seen many variations of this theme. I’ve seen folks asked to name ten things about themselves (Can you say overkill?) and name fifteen other bloggers (Glurg!). So I decided that with this shiny, happy, and slightly imaginary award comes a little lee-way, so I’m going with the six-pack.

I’m giving you all six things about me that are mildly titillating and then I’m passing the torch to six people whose stuff I love to read. In fact, some of them may have already have received this award, but I’m throwing some traffic back at them. Because they are THAT good.

Okay, so six things about myself:

1. SK sat behind me in fourth grade. On the first day of school, I said I had a pair of blue flip-flops at home, and he said they were actually called “thongs.” From then on, we disagreed about everything. These days, I have a lot of thongs at home, but I don’t wear them on my feet.

2. In 3rd grade, I had a mad crush on a kid named Savallas. He could turn his eyelids inside out. He called me on Saturday mornings and we sang K.C. and The Sunshine Band songs together.

3. My first kiss was with a girl. And she liked it so much she became a lesbian. True story.

4. Somebody wrote in my high school yearbook: “May your tail fall off and your hair shrivel into snakes. I’ll never forget you.” His handwriting is completely illegible so I can’t read the name. I’m pretty sure he (or she) has forgotten me.

5. I am extremely competitive, and I have never “let my child win” at anything. Not chess or tennis or Crazy-Eights. This might be why he has taken up fencing; I do not own a sword.

6. I am not afraid of anything, except contracting lice and not getting my manuscript published. Either of those things would totally suck.

• • • • • •

Now for my six nominees to be forever immortalized should they accept this honor (and by honor, I mean, homework assignment disguised as an honor).

Chase McFadden of Some Species Eat Their Young – I will have to fight Clay over who discovered Chase first. (I swear it was me.) Chase is pee-in-your-pants funny. Seriously, I think I’ve actually had to change my pants after reading some of his posts. A must-read for dads who blog.

Valerie Stone Hawthorne of Mompetition – This chick is a hoot. She makes parenting a competition. And when it comes down to it? Isn’t it? Really? Check out her photographs. She manages to capture a whole blog’s worth in a picture and one snarky caption. (Damn her!) Plus her electronic videos are a hoot.

Worst Professor Ever – She won’t reveal her name. And after a while, you don’t want her to. I love WorPro. She is my hero. She came, she taught, and she got out alive. She is hot as a blister in the sun, sharp as a whip, tough as nails, and smart as a Bermuda bag in The Preppy Handbook circa 1982.

Zach Sparer of Faux Outrage – One of my former students, Zach is a hot, young, Jewish lawyer. He is funny and smart. He is also single and living in the D.C. area. What? This isn’t J-Date? Fine. Strangely, Zach and I have a lot in common. We both attended the same summer camp – though we missed each other by about 20 years. We also share a disdain for the man who subbed for me while I was out on bed-rest during pregnancy. (That man destroyed The Great Gatsby for over 125 students. Unforgivable.) Zach sees the world through sassy glasses – literally. Except he doesn’t wear glasses.

Kasey Matthews is an old comrade of mine from high school. I think we double dated for Senior prom. (Didn’t we Kasey? Shall I look for pictures?) Anyway, she has just started blogging, and her stuff is the stuff that moms wrestle with all the time. She has a new book coming out called Premature Journey: Lessons in Love, Life and Motherhood, and I can’t wait to read it.

Kathy English of Mom Crusades – What else can you say? Kathy is consistently funny, on topic, and spot on. She is incredibly prolific. I don’t know how (or when) she does it. All I can say is that her house had better be really, really messy!

So there you have it. It was lovely to come up for a little air. Clay, you know me so well. I needed a little watering and light. Thank you for thinking of me and putting me up there with so many great writers. Because there are so many great writers!

Now back to the trenches.

19 Comments

Posted in Writing Life

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If My Kid Writes One More Book Report…

Posted on January 17, 2011 | 17 comments

 

Sleeping Student

Sleeping Student

Monkey has been writing a helluva a lot of book reports this year.

In an English class, a student can — of course — write a formal essay in response to a piece of literature. And they must know how to do this competently. But let’s face it: Writing five paragraph (or two paragraph or three paragraph) essays after every book, can be a real drag. And there is no reason for this when there are a skillion (yes, a skillion) other ways to evaluate a student’s comprehension that are about 100 times more engaging than any book report.

Students could create a piece of art in any medium that represents a character, situation or theme from the story; they might compose a poem or a monologue which explores a situation or character or which develops a theme from the literature; they could write a script for a scene in the story and perform it before the class, or imagine a scene that could have been in the story/play but wasn’t; they could offer an alternate ending or imagine the characters in the future. A musical student could write a song that explores a situation or a theme from the literature and sing/play it for the class. A dancer might choreograph a piece that represents a situation, character, or theme from the literature. Someone could create a diary for a character, not just chronicling the facts of plot, but the character’s emotions regarding his/her experiences. A budding historian might want to research a historical reference he or she noticed in the literature and was intrigued by. Hell, a student could bake something symbolic which links to the literature. I’ve had students bake highly symbolic (and very delicious) cookies!

With any performance based assessment, there always has to be a written explication that accompanies the more creative project in which the student explains his or her intention and explores how the project helps his or her peers understand something important about the literature. Ideally, the assessment process informs the teacher and the learner about student progress and, simultaneously, contributes to the student’s learning process.

I could go on about some student projects that I have received over the years. One of my favorites involves a student who upon completing Lord of the Flies, made a trip to the local farmer’s market and bought a whole pig’s head and recreated the scene where the terrified boys, beat and unintentionally kill their classmate, Simon, and then put a pig’s head on the stick.

I still have the video (which I’ve had switched over to DVD) and I still watch it. And that kid makes movies now.

I know that No Child Left Behind supports “standards-based education”and is based on the belief that setting high standards and establishing measurable goals can improve individual outcomes in education. The Act requires states to develop assessments in basic skills to be given to all students in certain grades, if those states are to receive federal funding for schools.

So I get it. My school district clearly wants our kids to pass the standardized test.

They want a slice of the pie.

But our kids are dying of boredom.

So please, for this mother.

No. More. Book. Reports.

17 Comments

Posted in Education, Parenting, Writing Life

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How I Fell in Love with Words

Posted on August 29, 2010 | 25 comments

photo by Matthijs Rouw @ flickr.com

For a period of years, I exchanged letters with a boy. He was smart, and I felt flattered by his long-distance attention. I loved the way his words looked on the page, and after devouring the content of his letters, I would stare at his penmanship. His handwriting was distinctive; long, thin strokes in the “T’s” and “L’s”; his vowels undersized, tiny and tight. Very controlled. My “P’s” and “L’s” wanted to loop. My vowels were large and open, like my heart.

During this period, I focused on composing the best letters I could. I explained – dissected – deconstructed and reconstructed the world for him in an attempt to get him to see things through my eyes. I showed him the beauty of the cigarette butt left on the filthy street corner, and wondered about the woman with the orange-red lipstick who had held it in her mouth. I addressed my envelopes, licked my stamps, sent my poetry and prose. And since there was neither instant messaging nor Skype nor Facebook nor email in the 1980s, I had to wait  . . . and wait. . . and wait for the postal carrier to (finally) bring me a long anticipated envelope. And always his responses were wonderful: filled with answers and more questions, more observations which led to more thinking, reflecting, writing.

Through our correspondence, I fell in love. With words. I learned how, in English, multi-syllabic words have a way of softening the impact of language, how they can show compassion, tenderness and tranquility. Conversely, I learned that single-syllable words could show rigidity, honesty, toughness, relentlessness. I saw how words could invoke anger, sadness, lust, and joy. As an adult, when speaking, I sometimes feel like I did not say quite the right thing. But when writing, I have time to be careful, to ponder, to find a new way to say something old. I can craft something magical.

I have always said that the best writing is born in obsession, rooted in a specific place.

My favorite word is “apricot” because it invokes a specific sense of smell, of taste and touch – but for me, it also reminds me of a particular morning in a particular place when the sun rose and made the world glow. It is a juicy word. A sweet word. A golden word scented with summer. I use the word “apricot” to show my students how one image can hold a lot of weight.

Some day I will thank that boy who made me want to revise, who made me want to give him only my best, most delicious words, my most ferocious images. Wherever he is, I hope he is still writing, too.

If you are so inclined, I would love to know if you have a favorite/least favorite word, what it is, and what it evokes for you.

25 Comments

Posted in Education, Grammar, Memoir, Writing Life

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A Thank You Note To Ed

Posted on June 30, 2010 | 27 comments
Afternote From RASJ on 7/1/10: A respondent named Russell suggested that I Google Ed’s little tirade (posted below) and guess what? Sure enough, Ed has posted his “one hit number” on more than just a few blogs. I guess the lesson-after-the-lesson is that people come to my blog to read my words, not someone else’s. It is unlikely that all my entries will be stellar, but from here on out, they will be mine.

"Angry Man" by Steve Rhode

Yesterday, I had a phenomenal day as my blog entry was Freshly Pressed (meaning it was recognized as a blog with a quickly growing audience), and it received a fair amount of attention. I was excited and enjoyed moderating all the comments and visiting new blogs. Somewhere in there, the following response came in from a respondent named Ed.

Initially, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I took his words personally. I wondered, Who is this guy? And why does he hate me so much?

That lasted for about 1 minute. The real lesson reflects my worldview: Most people are fabulous and supportive and interesting and delightful . . . but there is always going to be that one person who shows up drunk to your party and throws up in your bathroom. He is the thorn in your side, the fingernails on the chalkboard, the raccoon that comes to your campground and eats all your s’mores fixins. That person keeps us humble. Keeps our heads on. He provides balance. The trick is not to let the Eds of the world keep you down. Thank you, Ed, whoever you are.

Here are Ed’s exact words in response to yesterday’s blog. I have let him know that I have reposted his response today, so that he might comment – if he would like to.

So you ended up being just a mother.

Just another mother, like a chimp, a cow, an elephant, a whale, just another mother, like an insect, or an octopus, or a worm. Just another mother.

Your kids will not thank you, your husband will not like you, your own mother will pity you for making her own same mistake.

Just another mother.

For a moment of frenzy, of uterine voracity, irrational and irreversible, you destroyed your body, your beauty, and your own intellect.

Parental-brain-atrophy-syndrome, where your brain biologically adjusts to the need of your infants, descending at their own subhuman level, with just one dimension, food, or perhaps two dimensions, food and feces.

You left your ambitions, your achievements, your potentials outside your life and outside the lives of those who really loved, only to become a receptacle of an unknown body of an unknown person that never will be yours, and to whom you will never belong. Strangers united in a pool of blood and dirt.

And dirt has become your life, and your life has become dirt. Urine, remains of food, excrements, diapers, vacuum cleaners, old soap, crusts, a life of dandruff and diseases, vaccine and lice, high school and drool.

You lost your dignity through your open legs, first inwards and then outwards, first-in-first-out, garbage-in-garbage-out, a boomerang of boredom.

Do you remember who you were?

Do you realize your loss?

Nobody chooses prison voluntarily, except for mothers, except for you.

You chose the life of a slave in a cavern of dirt.

People around you, who know that you are just another mother, do have compassion for you, but no respect. They know all about your emptiness, your pain, your despair, all dressed in the robes of a Virgin Mary.

And a Virgin Mary you are not, because Mary was not a Virgin, and you are not a Mary.

You were manipulated into just another life wasted on the heap of trash of a lost humanity dedicated to popular procreation and proletarian proliferation, to please the leaders of a domain of plebeians.

The world lost you, and you lost the world.

Good bye, sad mothers, good bye, old cows, with dried-out utters and distorted hips, good bye, and so alone you all will die.

Note from RASJ:  I believe Ed meant to use the word “udders” (as in the things cows have beneath their bellies) – not “utters” (the synonym for the word ‘says’). Oh, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Ed would have benefited by adding a dash in the word “good-bye” which appears three times in his last line. What can I say? First and foremost, I’m an English teacher.

27 Comments

Posted in Bullying, Technology, Writing Life

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