I'm not teaching this term. Instead, I'm being taught...by my daughter.
It's strange to see those words in print, especially since this time last year, I never thought I'd write the word "daughter" or "son" preceded by the first person possessive pronoun.
Motherhood has turned my entire world upside down and inside out. Like the vocation of teaching, it's many things I expected, many things I didn't, and both better and more difficult than I imagined it would be. I look at mothers of more than one child with awe now. They went through all of this and still had the courage to go back and do it a second, third, fifth, or eighth time.
I do understand it, though. Despite the sleep deprivation and the physical strain and the emotional toll that a new baby puts on his or her parents, I still find myself returning to the words of the psalmist: "The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy."
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Nine months pregnant =
The overwhelming sense that there are many, many chores that you should be doing now. Or should have done before you couldn't bend at the waist.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Updates, or "I'm not dead yet!"
Just busy gestating.
2007 wasn't the easiest year of my life, either personally or professionally. It had its high points, indeed, but most of my emotional energy got expended on dealing with infertility or dealing with some of the most challenging students I have ever had.
On the infertility front, after seven months of fertility issues prior to an official diagnosis in July, The Greatest Man in the World and I found out in November that we are expecting our first child this July. I'm in the second trimester, feeling better, and ready for some cautious optimism. The first trimester was rough between constant nausea and chronic exhaustion, but I had great support from TGMitW, our families, and the select few people at work with whom I chose to share our news.
I plan to return to teaching next winter. I've been very blessed to have not one, but two experienced-at-our-school long-term subs who are willing to come out of retirement and teach so that I can stay home with the baby till after Thanksgiving. One of the possible subs is the teacher whose retirement opened the position for which I was hired, so I'm very confident that she knows the course extremely well and that the students will be excellently taught (perhaps better than I would have taught them!) I'm sad that I won't get to teach Shakespeare next year, but it's worth it to be able to stay at home with baby.
Professionally, I think that a nearly six month break from teaching after this year might be a good thing. This year's junior class is challenging. Actually, a small cadre of no more than a dozen boys makes it challenging. They have caused problems with their behavior since they were in the seventh grade, and although people hoped that they would improve with age, it hasn't happened yet. Their behavior has, if anything, become more outrageous: rudeness to teachers, inappropriate comments, rowdiness, attention-seeking behavior...you name it, they're doing it. For whatever reason, they aren't being disciplined as much as they should be.
To maintain order in my classroom, I have to be much stricter in my management than I usually am, and it's frustrating for me. I prefer to have students talking to me and to each other and engaging with the texts we read, and I can't allow my classes to have casual discussions like that this year. I know that many of the non-problem-causing students get frustrated too; sometimes they'll even call the troublemakers out and tell them to knock it off. I've had to hand out detentions like they're candy and generally be a much less relaxed person than I usually am. In years past, I've been able to tell my students what the boundaries are, let them know I'm serious, and then we've been able to play within the boundaries. This year, there's no room for play. There have been moments when I've had to pull students out of class for reprimands or tell them flat-out that they have crossed the line into outright rudeness or inappropriateness. On a couple of occasions, I've felt uncomfortable to the point of being threatened. And I'm not the only teacher who's experiencing this.
We all report them, we all complain...and nothing is done.
This too shall pass.
2007 wasn't the easiest year of my life, either personally or professionally. It had its high points, indeed, but most of my emotional energy got expended on dealing with infertility or dealing with some of the most challenging students I have ever had.
On the infertility front, after seven months of fertility issues prior to an official diagnosis in July, The Greatest Man in the World and I found out in November that we are expecting our first child this July. I'm in the second trimester, feeling better, and ready for some cautious optimism. The first trimester was rough between constant nausea and chronic exhaustion, but I had great support from TGMitW, our families, and the select few people at work with whom I chose to share our news.
I plan to return to teaching next winter. I've been very blessed to have not one, but two experienced-at-our-school long-term subs who are willing to come out of retirement and teach so that I can stay home with the baby till after Thanksgiving. One of the possible subs is the teacher whose retirement opened the position for which I was hired, so I'm very confident that she knows the course extremely well and that the students will be excellently taught (perhaps better than I would have taught them!) I'm sad that I won't get to teach Shakespeare next year, but it's worth it to be able to stay at home with baby.
Professionally, I think that a nearly six month break from teaching after this year might be a good thing. This year's junior class is challenging. Actually, a small cadre of no more than a dozen boys makes it challenging. They have caused problems with their behavior since they were in the seventh grade, and although people hoped that they would improve with age, it hasn't happened yet. Their behavior has, if anything, become more outrageous: rudeness to teachers, inappropriate comments, rowdiness, attention-seeking behavior...you name it, they're doing it. For whatever reason, they aren't being disciplined as much as they should be.
To maintain order in my classroom, I have to be much stricter in my management than I usually am, and it's frustrating for me. I prefer to have students talking to me and to each other and engaging with the texts we read, and I can't allow my classes to have casual discussions like that this year. I know that many of the non-problem-causing students get frustrated too; sometimes they'll even call the troublemakers out and tell them to knock it off. I've had to hand out detentions like they're candy and generally be a much less relaxed person than I usually am. In years past, I've been able to tell my students what the boundaries are, let them know I'm serious, and then we've been able to play within the boundaries. This year, there's no room for play. There have been moments when I've had to pull students out of class for reprimands or tell them flat-out that they have crossed the line into outright rudeness or inappropriateness. On a couple of occasions, I've felt uncomfortable to the point of being threatened. And I'm not the only teacher who's experiencing this.
We all report them, we all complain...and nothing is done.
This too shall pass.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Scottish dancing season
No, you can't shoot the dancers. Although as poorly as I've been dancing lately, it might be considered merciful to shoot me in the foot!
Today was just a show. The best thing you can say about my performance is that I fully embraced the old maxim about being confident in my mistakes. My sweet husband told me, "Unless somebody knew what the right way to do those dances was, they wouldn't have noticed any mistakes." Unfortunately, he does know how those dances are supposed to look when they're done correctly.
Must practice more. In spare time not taken up with 1) obsessing over my not-quite-spotless house but not actually doing anything to clean it, 2) grading student work that's backlogged, or 3) catching up on much-needed sleep...
Today was just a show. The best thing you can say about my performance is that I fully embraced the old maxim about being confident in my mistakes. My sweet husband told me, "Unless somebody knew what the right way to do those dances was, they wouldn't have noticed any mistakes." Unfortunately, he does know how those dances are supposed to look when they're done correctly.
Must practice more. In spare time not taken up with 1) obsessing over my not-quite-spotless house but not actually doing anything to clean it, 2) grading student work that's backlogged, or 3) catching up on much-needed sleep...
Sunday, September 16, 2007
LotR-fest 2.0
At seven in the morning, the faithful began to arrive, armed with cushions, blankets, coffee, and lots of junk food (which, they inform me, does constitute an essential food group when one is under eighteen).
8:02 a.m.: After some frantic running around on my part in search of a grand master key to open the conference center and not a few "one key to rule them all" jokes, we began watching the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.
Twelve hours and thirteen minutes, three pizzas, dozens of doughnuts, and one roll of toilet paper later, we finished the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.
I'm still fascinated by the fact that kids will show up at school on a Saturday for nothing more than watching these movies, especially when many of them were going to the Georgia Tech game that evening. They already wanted to talk about some of the discussion questions I gave them on Friday, but we had to press on with the movie-watching.
As many times as I've seen those films, I still find something new every time I see them. Over the Labor Day weekend, I watched the original Star Wars trilogy with my nephew. It was his first time to see it, and he was glued to the screen. I can't wait till he's old enough to see Lord of the Rings.
Maybe by then I'll be ready to do another movie marathon.
8:02 a.m.: After some frantic running around on my part in search of a grand master key to open the conference center and not a few "one key to rule them all" jokes, we began watching the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.
Twelve hours and thirteen minutes, three pizzas, dozens of doughnuts, and one roll of toilet paper later, we finished the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.
I'm still fascinated by the fact that kids will show up at school on a Saturday for nothing more than watching these movies, especially when many of them were going to the Georgia Tech game that evening. They already wanted to talk about some of the discussion questions I gave them on Friday, but we had to press on with the movie-watching.
As many times as I've seen those films, I still find something new every time I see them. Over the Labor Day weekend, I watched the original Star Wars trilogy with my nephew. It was his first time to see it, and he was glued to the screen. I can't wait till he's old enough to see Lord of the Rings.
Maybe by then I'll be ready to do another movie marathon.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Back to school, back to routine
Well...sort of back to routine. I figured out that between August 9th and September 9th, I'll have spent 13 nights sleeping away from my own bed. (And there's a ginormous tree branch poked into the roof like a toothpick into a cupcake above my bed. I'm thankful that I was not in that bed when the tree branch met the roof.)
So. Year 2 of Fantasy as a Genre. Still full of students that could kindly be called "behavior problems." They keep it fun, and they seem to listen better than last year's class did. Lord-of-the-Rings-a-pa-looza is in ten days; it promises to be thrilling.
Ninth grade class retreat is this week. I actually got my sub plans in early -- that will never happen again! I'm looking forward to the two days up at camp, especially because I think my homeroom is actually going to have a decent skit this year.
As for the Brit Lit classes, two have an unusual number of girls in the section. I've never had a section where the girls outnumbered the boys, but it's been interesting. I've maintained for the past couple of years that by the time they're juniors, the girls at school get reticent in classes with the boys, particularly when the boys are obstreperous. (There are quite a few obstreperous boys in this junior class, but none of them are in my sections yet.) As a result, it's often more difficult to get the girls to speak out and take leadership roles in the course. It could just be the blend of personalities in my sections this term; so far, however, the girls are being slightly dominant in class discussion. My holds-degrees-from-two-women's-colleges self is loving it. :)
There's a lot that's positive right now, although I feel like my life for the past eight months was taken over with infertility issues. Finally, finally, finally, we're moving forward with treatment, and there may be a light at the end of this tunnel. Even if there's not a light, there's at least forward motion, and that's better than standing still.
So. Year 2 of Fantasy as a Genre. Still full of students that could kindly be called "behavior problems." They keep it fun, and they seem to listen better than last year's class did. Lord-of-the-Rings-a-pa-looza is in ten days; it promises to be thrilling.
Ninth grade class retreat is this week. I actually got my sub plans in early -- that will never happen again! I'm looking forward to the two days up at camp, especially because I think my homeroom is actually going to have a decent skit this year.
As for the Brit Lit classes, two have an unusual number of girls in the section. I've never had a section where the girls outnumbered the boys, but it's been interesting. I've maintained for the past couple of years that by the time they're juniors, the girls at school get reticent in classes with the boys, particularly when the boys are obstreperous. (There are quite a few obstreperous boys in this junior class, but none of them are in my sections yet.) As a result, it's often more difficult to get the girls to speak out and take leadership roles in the course. It could just be the blend of personalities in my sections this term; so far, however, the girls are being slightly dominant in class discussion. My holds-degrees-from-two-women's-colleges self is loving it. :)
There's a lot that's positive right now, although I feel like my life for the past eight months was taken over with infertility issues. Finally, finally, finally, we're moving forward with treatment, and there may be a light at the end of this tunnel. Even if there's not a light, there's at least forward motion, and that's better than standing still.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Saying goodbye
Summer, 1998. While we were visiting my godmother in Chicago, she pulled out a copy of "this great book about a little boy who finds out he's a wizard and he goes off to wizarding school." It came highly endorsed by her fifth-grade class.
I, as a soon-to-be-freshman in college, wasn't all that interested, but my youngest sister (a.k.a. the non-reader) took it and read it. When I came home for fall break, she followed me around the house to explain Quidditch and Hogwarts. She'd never gotten excited about a book like that before, and I read it because she was so enthusiastic.
And I was hooked. This Harry Potter kid was a new King Arthur or Luke Skywalker. I recognized this story and I loved this new storyteller's way of framing it with imagination and wit and humor.
Now, almost ten years, four midnight release parties, five movies, seven books, and one elective course later, it's time to close the books. The story's over. No more speculation about the characters' ultimate fates or unanswered questions. A new generation of readers, one that knows the ending and likely will have seen the movies first, will enjoy the books in a completely different way.
For most of us who've loved Harry and his pals, the end is bittersweet. Sure, I wanted to know how it all turned out, but seeing the series end is like closing any chapter in one's life: you might return for a visit, but you can't go back and live it over again.
What made it so great? I don't think it's the vividly imagined and richly detailed world Rowling invented for her characters to inhabit (although it's certainly a draw), or the fun of seeing adolescents with magical powers. I believe it's the epic struggle between good and evil that only, ultimately, can be won by love and self-sacrifice. That's why Harry, Charlotte, Aslan, Frodo, and other heroes and heroines involve our emotions so deeply -- their stories, no matter how seemingly fanciful, are powerfully true.
As I closed Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at a quarter past four this morning, I wiped away a few tears. I'm looking forward to the fall term to see what my newest crop of fantasy lit students thinks about how Rowling chose to end the series.
And I wrote a small note of thanks to my godmother, who gave my sister the book, and my sister, who gave the book to me.
I, as a soon-to-be-freshman in college, wasn't all that interested, but my youngest sister (a.k.a. the non-reader) took it and read it. When I came home for fall break, she followed me around the house to explain Quidditch and Hogwarts. She'd never gotten excited about a book like that before, and I read it because she was so enthusiastic.
And I was hooked. This Harry Potter kid was a new King Arthur or Luke Skywalker. I recognized this story and I loved this new storyteller's way of framing it with imagination and wit and humor.
Now, almost ten years, four midnight release parties, five movies, seven books, and one elective course later, it's time to close the books. The story's over. No more speculation about the characters' ultimate fates or unanswered questions. A new generation of readers, one that knows the ending and likely will have seen the movies first, will enjoy the books in a completely different way.
For most of us who've loved Harry and his pals, the end is bittersweet. Sure, I wanted to know how it all turned out, but seeing the series end is like closing any chapter in one's life: you might return for a visit, but you can't go back and live it over again.
What made it so great? I don't think it's the vividly imagined and richly detailed world Rowling invented for her characters to inhabit (although it's certainly a draw), or the fun of seeing adolescents with magical powers. I believe it's the epic struggle between good and evil that only, ultimately, can be won by love and self-sacrifice. That's why Harry, Charlotte, Aslan, Frodo, and other heroes and heroines involve our emotions so deeply -- their stories, no matter how seemingly fanciful, are powerfully true.
As I closed Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at a quarter past four this morning, I wiped away a few tears. I'm looking forward to the fall term to see what my newest crop of fantasy lit students thinks about how Rowling chose to end the series.
And I wrote a small note of thanks to my godmother, who gave my sister the book, and my sister, who gave the book to me.
Monday, April 09, 2007
What's in the water?!
Is everyone around me having babies or what?
Two of the girls in my small group are expecting. My sister-in-law had a baby girl two and a half weeks ago. Two of the girls at work are expecting, too. And I just got an email from one of my high school buddies announcing the birth of his daughter last Thursday.
Maybe it's just that I'm at the age now when all my friends are starting to have families of their own, but it sure seems to be epidemic right now. Instead of talking about books and movies and going out to eat, now conversation revolves around little people and the things they do (and parents really are uninhibited when they're talking about kids...there is nothing they won't say) and we go over to people's houses. Life is just...different...now. Not in a bad way, though.
And all those babies are cute, especially since nobody's asked me to change a diaper yet. :)
Two of the girls in my small group are expecting. My sister-in-law had a baby girl two and a half weeks ago. Two of the girls at work are expecting, too. And I just got an email from one of my high school buddies announcing the birth of his daughter last Thursday.
Maybe it's just that I'm at the age now when all my friends are starting to have families of their own, but it sure seems to be epidemic right now. Instead of talking about books and movies and going out to eat, now conversation revolves around little people and the things they do (and parents really are uninhibited when they're talking about kids...there is nothing they won't say) and we go over to people's houses. Life is just...different...now. Not in a bad way, though.
And all those babies are cute, especially since nobody's asked me to change a diaper yet. :)
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Lions and tigers and...parents, oh my
My mom and dad are in town this weekend for a brief visit, so we've been spending Quality Parental Time.
Things for Which I Am Profoundly Grateful:
1. My parents and my in-laws get along well with each other. We all had lunch together today, and it was really fun.
2. My parents respect our space. Seriously, they're good guests, and I gather from some of my friends that parents don't always make good company in their children's homes.
3. That the older I get, the more I truly enjoy spending time with my parents. I don't feel obligated to spend time with them; I look for ways we can get to spend time together, and so do they.
4. My husband is a gracious and generous host. Just the way that things are, his family is all in town, and my family is all out-of-town. Way out of town. So when they do come to visit, they stay with us, which can be pretty intense -- people you don't see very often and then when you do see them, it's a 24-7 sort of visit. And bless his heart, he just rolls with everything and has a good time. He tells me that he enjoys my family. That's true love for you right there.
Things for Which I Am Profoundly Grateful:
1. My parents and my in-laws get along well with each other. We all had lunch together today, and it was really fun.
2. My parents respect our space. Seriously, they're good guests, and I gather from some of my friends that parents don't always make good company in their children's homes.
3. That the older I get, the more I truly enjoy spending time with my parents. I don't feel obligated to spend time with them; I look for ways we can get to spend time together, and so do they.
4. My husband is a gracious and generous host. Just the way that things are, his family is all in town, and my family is all out-of-town. Way out of town. So when they do come to visit, they stay with us, which can be pretty intense -- people you don't see very often and then when you do see them, it's a 24-7 sort of visit. And bless his heart, he just rolls with everything and has a good time. He tells me that he enjoys my family. That's true love for you right there.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Shaggs and shoes
The Greatest Man in the World is upstairs listening to My Pal Foot Foot.
If you've never heard of My Pal Foot Foot, then you are missing out on what's possibly the worst band ever to have existed: The Shaggs. Really. They're so bad that it's almost good.
I'm down here searching for shoes...both shoes for my sister's wedding in August (yay!) and for my Highland dance competition at the end of the month.
I like these for Sister's wedding (pending her approval, natch) dyed light gold. As for the dance shoes, no clue. I'm hoping my current pair of ghillies will last through the competition, but it's probably a good idea to have a Plan B in case they don't.
Oh, and Foot Foot don't live here no more.
If you've never heard of My Pal Foot Foot, then you are missing out on what's possibly the worst band ever to have existed: The Shaggs. Really. They're so bad that it's almost good.
I'm down here searching for shoes...both shoes for my sister's wedding in August (yay!) and for my Highland dance competition at the end of the month.
I like these for Sister's wedding (pending her approval, natch) dyed light gold. As for the dance shoes, no clue. I'm hoping my current pair of ghillies will last through the competition, but it's probably a good idea to have a Plan B in case they don't.
Oh, and Foot Foot don't live here no more.
The only sane person in the room looks crazy
A few years ago, my sister and I had a conversation wherein she repeated to me this little gem of pithiness: "When you're the only sane person in a sea of insanity, it's hard to convince yourself that you aren't the crazy one."
True.
I just finished reading The Overachievers by Alexandra Robbins and I want every single administrator, teacher, parent, and student at my school to read it as well. As I read the book, I thought to myself, My gosh, I know all of these kids. And that thought really frightened me.
I think sometimes, as someone who graduated high school nine years ago, that I'm more likely to fall into the trap of thinking that school now is the same or quite similar to school when I was a student than someone who graduated twenty or thirty years ago...and I'm wrong. I knew kids when I was in school who definitely were overachiever poster children (aforementioned sister and best friend among them), but there wasn't a culture, at least not as far as I could tell, of overachievement. Maybe it's because I was a militant underachiever for the first eighteen years of my life, or maybe it's because the kids at my high school were applying to Auburn and Alabama, not the Ivy League.
But now, where I teach, the culture of superstardom is endemic and it's heavy. I remember the student I taught my first year who seemed to be killing herself with extracurricular activities and advanced classes as a junior. When she came to me and asked that I sign off on her application to run for student council co-president, I told her that I was doing so with serious reservations because of her other commitments; I felt strongly that she wouldn't be able to juggle everything successfully.
She ran and she won, and she did a terrible job as co-president because she didn't have the time to keep up with her coursework (got a bad grade in a math class that kept her out of her first-choice college), take large roles in every single school play, be a managing editor for the paper, and devote energy to student council.
I asked at the time, and I'm still asking three years later, why didn't we as responsible adults tell her to stop? Why don't we have some sort of policy in place about extracurriculars and leadership positions like we do with AP courses? If we don't let our students take more than three APs in a year, why in the world do we let them play two varsity sports AND have officer positions in five clubs AND the lead in the musical AND be retreat leaders?
Because, the Older and Wiser Heads told me, that's how things are here. Handle the pressure or quit. We like our superstars. We make them our poster children every year. That's our standard of excellence.
Graduates tell me overwhelmingly that the most important thing they learned in their years at this school was time management -- how to schedule their lives at a breakneck pace for four years. And to me, that's sad.
The head of the guidance department said once that parents want to put the bumper sticker on their car that says "University of Georgia Parent -- but the Kid Turned Down Harvard, Stanford, and MIT." Not that it's fair to blame parents or teachers for the whole thing, though, because it isn't. The kids put lots of pressure on themselves. They have to be the best at everything all the time, or it isn't worth doing.
Reading this book sharpened my resolve to homeschool our (eventual) children -- I really don't want my family to believe that this lifestyle is normal or desirable.
But it's probably not good enough for me just to advocate for my own family. I've been unsettled by seeing this trend for the past several years, and my desire to be an agent of change for my own community has now crystallized. I might just be the person who everyone else thinks is crazy, but I'm betting there are enough other sane people floating in the crazy ocean who will agree and sign on.
True.
I just finished reading The Overachievers by Alexandra Robbins and I want every single administrator, teacher, parent, and student at my school to read it as well. As I read the book, I thought to myself, My gosh, I know all of these kids. And that thought really frightened me.
I think sometimes, as someone who graduated high school nine years ago, that I'm more likely to fall into the trap of thinking that school now is the same or quite similar to school when I was a student than someone who graduated twenty or thirty years ago...and I'm wrong. I knew kids when I was in school who definitely were overachiever poster children (aforementioned sister and best friend among them), but there wasn't a culture, at least not as far as I could tell, of overachievement. Maybe it's because I was a militant underachiever for the first eighteen years of my life, or maybe it's because the kids at my high school were applying to Auburn and Alabama, not the Ivy League.
But now, where I teach, the culture of superstardom is endemic and it's heavy. I remember the student I taught my first year who seemed to be killing herself with extracurricular activities and advanced classes as a junior. When she came to me and asked that I sign off on her application to run for student council co-president, I told her that I was doing so with serious reservations because of her other commitments; I felt strongly that she wouldn't be able to juggle everything successfully.
She ran and she won, and she did a terrible job as co-president because she didn't have the time to keep up with her coursework (got a bad grade in a math class that kept her out of her first-choice college), take large roles in every single school play, be a managing editor for the paper, and devote energy to student council.
I asked at the time, and I'm still asking three years later, why didn't we as responsible adults tell her to stop? Why don't we have some sort of policy in place about extracurriculars and leadership positions like we do with AP courses? If we don't let our students take more than three APs in a year, why in the world do we let them play two varsity sports AND have officer positions in five clubs AND the lead in the musical AND be retreat leaders?
Because, the Older and Wiser Heads told me, that's how things are here. Handle the pressure or quit. We like our superstars. We make them our poster children every year. That's our standard of excellence.
Graduates tell me overwhelmingly that the most important thing they learned in their years at this school was time management -- how to schedule their lives at a breakneck pace for four years. And to me, that's sad.
The head of the guidance department said once that parents want to put the bumper sticker on their car that says "University of Georgia Parent -- but the Kid Turned Down Harvard, Stanford, and MIT." Not that it's fair to blame parents or teachers for the whole thing, though, because it isn't. The kids put lots of pressure on themselves. They have to be the best at everything all the time, or it isn't worth doing.
Reading this book sharpened my resolve to homeschool our (eventual) children -- I really don't want my family to believe that this lifestyle is normal or desirable.
But it's probably not good enough for me just to advocate for my own family. I've been unsettled by seeing this trend for the past several years, and my desire to be an agent of change for my own community has now crystallized. I might just be the person who everyone else thinks is crazy, but I'm betting there are enough other sane people floating in the crazy ocean who will agree and sign on.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Partying like rock stars
So, the SMC Alumnae Club of Georgia (The Few! The Proud! The REAL (Southern) Belles!) hosted a Real Live Alumnae Author Saturday afternoon at Coffee Buy the Book here in beautiful historic Roswell.
We don't have all THAT many events. The only problems with graduating from a women's college in Indiana and having an alumnae club in Georgia are 1. Not many women from Georgia go to colleges in northern Indiana and 2. What with its being a women's college and the graduates being 100% female, a great many of the alumnae are full-time mothers and as such are really, really busy. Usually, if we get fifteen people at an event, it's a big success.
One of the ongoing club events is a bimonthly book club that's been going for about two years. Back in the fall, Mary Beth Ellis '99 contacted us to see if we'd be interested in having her come speak to the club about her new book, Drink to the Lasses, which is a humorous account of her years at Saint Mary's. Of course we accepted enthusiastically and scheduled her appearance for this weekend. We invited the entire alumnae club, not just the book club members, and promised free refreshments and wine.
Since I'm the board member who lives the closest, I was in charge of said refreshments. (I think I might take on a side job as a party planner -- I seem to find myself doing this sort of thing with alarming frequency!) I hit Trader Joe's on Friday afternoon for a case of Two Buck Chuck. There is something so darn satisfying about being able to buy twelve bottles of perfectly good wine for under thirty dollars. I got the nibbles from Edible Expressions, and added to the list of Things I've Learned is that a caterer's opinion of what constitutes "serves 10-12" and my opinion of the same thing are wildly at odds. Serves 10-12 what? Football linebackers? Sumo wrestlers?
Oh well...better to have too much than too little.
Out of the thirty women who RSVPed yes, twenty-eight showed up. We drank a little wine, had a lot of really delicious food, and thoroughly enjoyed Mary Beth's readings and presentation. Although the book's probably got a certain meaning for women who are SMC grads, it's really about college and self-discovery and making the transition from childhood to adulthood, told with unflinching candor and wry humor. (I've written one too many blurbs for annotated bibliographies.)
Anyhow, very cool event, very cool author, and very cool book. Pick one up off of her website or from Amazon and have fun!
We don't have all THAT many events. The only problems with graduating from a women's college in Indiana and having an alumnae club in Georgia are 1. Not many women from Georgia go to colleges in northern Indiana and 2. What with its being a women's college and the graduates being 100% female, a great many of the alumnae are full-time mothers and as such are really, really busy. Usually, if we get fifteen people at an event, it's a big success.
One of the ongoing club events is a bimonthly book club that's been going for about two years. Back in the fall, Mary Beth Ellis '99 contacted us to see if we'd be interested in having her come speak to the club about her new book, Drink to the Lasses, which is a humorous account of her years at Saint Mary's. Of course we accepted enthusiastically and scheduled her appearance for this weekend. We invited the entire alumnae club, not just the book club members, and promised free refreshments and wine.
Since I'm the board member who lives the closest, I was in charge of said refreshments. (I think I might take on a side job as a party planner -- I seem to find myself doing this sort of thing with alarming frequency!) I hit Trader Joe's on Friday afternoon for a case of Two Buck Chuck. There is something so darn satisfying about being able to buy twelve bottles of perfectly good wine for under thirty dollars. I got the nibbles from Edible Expressions, and added to the list of Things I've Learned is that a caterer's opinion of what constitutes "serves 10-12" and my opinion of the same thing are wildly at odds. Serves 10-12 what? Football linebackers? Sumo wrestlers?
Oh well...better to have too much than too little.
Out of the thirty women who RSVPed yes, twenty-eight showed up. We drank a little wine, had a lot of really delicious food, and thoroughly enjoyed Mary Beth's readings and presentation. Although the book's probably got a certain meaning for women who are SMC grads, it's really about college and self-discovery and making the transition from childhood to adulthood, told with unflinching candor and wry humor. (I've written one too many blurbs for annotated bibliographies.)
Anyhow, very cool event, very cool author, and very cool book. Pick one up off of her website or from Amazon and have fun!
Saturday, November 25, 2006
That's just how we roll around here
Two days after Thanksgiving, and the Christmas season has officially started.
Or it's open season on Christmas. Pick your favorite.
Today I added one more item to the list of Horrifying Evidence that I Am Indeed Becoming Just Like My Mother: I baked Christmas cookies.
I love baking, actually. The only problem with baking is that it produces baked goods. And the problem with baked goods is that if they're around the house, I'll eat them in quantities larger than what is good for me.
But these cookies are not for me -- they are for Other People. Family and friends. Being the kind and considerate person I am, I even baked light cookies.
The cookie tally currently stands at 4 dozen peppermint double-chocolate chews, 4 dozen almond biscotti, 2 dozen ginger shortbread wedges, and 2 dozen plain shortbread wedges. Still coming: 4 dozen mini chocolate chip pumpkin muffins, 5 dozen chocolate chip cookies, and 5 dozen chocolate chip/mini peanut butter cup cookies.
I'll post the highlights of the ALAN conference later...off to roll more cookies!
Or it's open season on Christmas. Pick your favorite.
Today I added one more item to the list of Horrifying Evidence that I Am Indeed Becoming Just Like My Mother: I baked Christmas cookies.
I love baking, actually. The only problem with baking is that it produces baked goods. And the problem with baked goods is that if they're around the house, I'll eat them in quantities larger than what is good for me.
But these cookies are not for me -- they are for Other People. Family and friends. Being the kind and considerate person I am, I even baked light cookies.
The cookie tally currently stands at 4 dozen peppermint double-chocolate chews, 4 dozen almond biscotti, 2 dozen ginger shortbread wedges, and 2 dozen plain shortbread wedges. Still coming: 4 dozen mini chocolate chip pumpkin muffins, 5 dozen chocolate chip cookies, and 5 dozen chocolate chip/mini peanut butter cup cookies.
I'll post the highlights of the ALAN conference later...off to roll more cookies!
Friday, November 17, 2006
Reflections on Term 1, 2006
Because, as I've learned in my (few but full) years in the classroom, good teaching comes from reflection.
The only problem is finding the time in which to reflect.
So, in a blast of stream-of-consciousness, Reflections on the Past Twelve Weeks:
1. Never, ever again will I have thirty students in an elective. Especially not when 26 are seniors. And certainly not when 19 of the 26 are young men. Trying to manage that class was absolutely exhausting. Of course, it had its benefits...I gained a newfound level of respect for grade-school teachers!
2. Order the Henry V texts way earlier in the term. The Shakespeare unit snuck up on me this year, and I ended up kind-of sort-of wasting a week waiting for the books to arrive. Shakespeare got short shrift this year, and that's irritating to me, since it's my favorite part of the term.
3. But on the silver-lining side, not having the texts forced some quick revision on my part, and I liked the way things came out -- the performance aspect took precedence over the textual analysis aspect, and I felt that the students' understanding of and ability to dissect the nuances of the play was much improved from years when I tried to do the heavy textual analysis first and performances second. They really got the idea that you don't have to understand every single little word in order to get what's going on and enjoy it.
4. Plus, watching clips of the Branagh Henry V is really fun when the students are calling out to see "their" scenes -- and even more fun when they're righteously indignant that lines are cut out of the film version!
5. Even if they did spend a lot of time saying "There's Christian Bale!" "There's Bilbo!" "There's Gilderoy Lockhart!" instead of paying attention to the words of the play. (Ian Holm plays Fluellen in Henry V and Bilbo Baggins in Lord of the Rings; Kenneth Branagh plays Henry and also Gilderoy Lockhart in Harry Potter. They didn't, however, recognize Emma Thompson, who plays Princess Katherine in HV and Professor Sybil Trelawney in HP. Must have been the lack of glasses and fluffy shawls.)
6. Numbering the in-class writing assignments on the board is a good idea.
7. Encourage the Vocabulary Game more. Keep the daily class participation log handy.
8. Resolution for next term: grade all papers within the week. Procrastination makes it harder to do the longer it's put off.
9. Having three ASO performances in six weeks, plus a dance competition in the middle of it, was way more stressful than I thought it would be.
10. I will start planning next year's fantasy lit elective over Christmas break. Hold me to it.
11. Maybe hiring a cleaning service to come in once a month to do the heavier housework would not be a bad idea, or an advertisement to the world that I am an incompetent housekeeper, or a lazy spoiled person.
The only problem is finding the time in which to reflect.
So, in a blast of stream-of-consciousness, Reflections on the Past Twelve Weeks:
1. Never, ever again will I have thirty students in an elective. Especially not when 26 are seniors. And certainly not when 19 of the 26 are young men. Trying to manage that class was absolutely exhausting. Of course, it had its benefits...I gained a newfound level of respect for grade-school teachers!
2. Order the Henry V texts way earlier in the term. The Shakespeare unit snuck up on me this year, and I ended up kind-of sort-of wasting a week waiting for the books to arrive. Shakespeare got short shrift this year, and that's irritating to me, since it's my favorite part of the term.
3. But on the silver-lining side, not having the texts forced some quick revision on my part, and I liked the way things came out -- the performance aspect took precedence over the textual analysis aspect, and I felt that the students' understanding of and ability to dissect the nuances of the play was much improved from years when I tried to do the heavy textual analysis first and performances second. They really got the idea that you don't have to understand every single little word in order to get what's going on and enjoy it.
4. Plus, watching clips of the Branagh Henry V is really fun when the students are calling out to see "their" scenes -- and even more fun when they're righteously indignant that lines are cut out of the film version!
5. Even if they did spend a lot of time saying "There's Christian Bale!" "There's Bilbo!" "There's Gilderoy Lockhart!" instead of paying attention to the words of the play. (Ian Holm plays Fluellen in Henry V and Bilbo Baggins in Lord of the Rings; Kenneth Branagh plays Henry and also Gilderoy Lockhart in Harry Potter. They didn't, however, recognize Emma Thompson, who plays Princess Katherine in HV and Professor Sybil Trelawney in HP. Must have been the lack of glasses and fluffy shawls.)
6. Numbering the in-class writing assignments on the board is a good idea.
7. Encourage the Vocabulary Game more. Keep the daily class participation log handy.
8. Resolution for next term: grade all papers within the week. Procrastination makes it harder to do the longer it's put off.
9. Having three ASO performances in six weeks, plus a dance competition in the middle of it, was way more stressful than I thought it would be.
10. I will start planning next year's fantasy lit elective over Christmas break. Hold me to it.
11. Maybe hiring a cleaning service to come in once a month to do the heavier housework would not be a bad idea, or an advertisement to the world that I am an incompetent housekeeper, or a lazy spoiled person.
Monday, November 13, 2006
November Rain
Or snot, as the case may be...
It's November, it's the week before exams, and like every other pre-exam week on record in practically my entire life, I've got a sinus infection. And unlike the days when I was a student and could stay home with chicken soup and orange juice, I have to be there.
So I'm teaching with a big bottle of water and a big box of Kleenex by my side.
It's November, it's the week before exams, and like every other pre-exam week on record in practically my entire life, I've got a sinus infection. And unlike the days when I was a student and could stay home with chicken soup and orange juice, I have to be there.
So I'm teaching with a big bottle of water and a big box of Kleenex by my side.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Things that make you go "blech"
It's not a big secret or a big revelation to say that school Masses here are less than beautiful, reverent, worship-filled liturgies. In fact, Mass is probably the thing we do worst here, and yesterday's All Saints' Day Mass was no exception.
Part of the frustration inherent in trying to hold a Mass for a thousand students and two hundred faculty/staff/guests is that the only location that will accomodate the crowd is the large gymnasium, and the youngest half of the student body sits in folding chairs on the floor. Since the altar and lectern are also placed on the floor, it means that the only thing that most of the younger (and most easily distracted) segment of the community can see is the backs of each other's heads. Also, in an attempt to create a more reverent atmosphere, the lights are dimmed. Not the most aesthetically engaging environment for liturgy. Plus, the dim lighting makes it hard for teachers to see what kids in the middle of the crowds are doing (and half the teachers don't sit where they're supposed to sit or even show up to Mass, but that's another whole issue.) At the last school Mass, I collected three textbooks and four notes and pencils before the homily. Don't get me started on the gum-chewing.
Another part of the frustration is the "well, God loves any effort we put forth on His behalf, so anything and everything is perfectly acceptable and laudable" attitude. I will simply say this: if we had the same results and attitude about our academics, athletics, and fine arts that we have about our liturgies, nobody in their right minds would pay five figures to send their children to school here. The readers mumble and fidget, there is a positive herd of EMoHCs (who, in defiance of the removal of the indult, assisted with the purification of the Eucharistic vessels), and the music...well. Let's just say when people ask for a return to Latin in the liturgy, I don't think they're looking for "Gloria! (clap clap) Gloria! (clap clap)". There is a real feeling, too, that anything done in the liturgies is completely above reproach...because it's for God and all. So we applaud everyone under the sun at the end of Mass and "thank" them for "all their hard work" in putting the liturgy together.
I want, sometimes, to stand up and scream, "No! No, I will not thank anyone for his or her hard work or effort! It is a privilege to serve the Body of Christ. Applause for this work should be an embarrassment to those who do it!"
Beyond that, the Mass conflated the celebration of All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day. The homily was a rubbishy "we're all saints and all the dead are in Heaven with God." Reminded me of The Incredibles: if everyone is special, then nobody is. If everyone is a saint, then what's the point of this feast? Look at us, we're so great and awesome?! And if All Saints honors all the dead, what's the point of All Souls?
Anyone hear an inspiring homily, besides the Pope's?
Part of the frustration inherent in trying to hold a Mass for a thousand students and two hundred faculty/staff/guests is that the only location that will accomodate the crowd is the large gymnasium, and the youngest half of the student body sits in folding chairs on the floor. Since the altar and lectern are also placed on the floor, it means that the only thing that most of the younger (and most easily distracted) segment of the community can see is the backs of each other's heads. Also, in an attempt to create a more reverent atmosphere, the lights are dimmed. Not the most aesthetically engaging environment for liturgy. Plus, the dim lighting makes it hard for teachers to see what kids in the middle of the crowds are doing (and half the teachers don't sit where they're supposed to sit or even show up to Mass, but that's another whole issue.) At the last school Mass, I collected three textbooks and four notes and pencils before the homily. Don't get me started on the gum-chewing.
Another part of the frustration is the "well, God loves any effort we put forth on His behalf, so anything and everything is perfectly acceptable and laudable" attitude. I will simply say this: if we had the same results and attitude about our academics, athletics, and fine arts that we have about our liturgies, nobody in their right minds would pay five figures to send their children to school here. The readers mumble and fidget, there is a positive herd of EMoHCs (who, in defiance of the removal of the indult, assisted with the purification of the Eucharistic vessels), and the music...well. Let's just say when people ask for a return to Latin in the liturgy, I don't think they're looking for "Gloria! (clap clap) Gloria! (clap clap)". There is a real feeling, too, that anything done in the liturgies is completely above reproach...because it's for God and all. So we applaud everyone under the sun at the end of Mass and "thank" them for "all their hard work" in putting the liturgy together.
I want, sometimes, to stand up and scream, "No! No, I will not thank anyone for his or her hard work or effort! It is a privilege to serve the Body of Christ. Applause for this work should be an embarrassment to those who do it!"
Beyond that, the Mass conflated the celebration of All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day. The homily was a rubbishy "we're all saints and all the dead are in Heaven with God." Reminded me of The Incredibles: if everyone is special, then nobody is. If everyone is a saint, then what's the point of this feast? Look at us, we're so great and awesome?! And if All Saints honors all the dead, what's the point of All Souls?
Anyone hear an inspiring homily, besides the Pope's?
Monday, October 23, 2006
Your child is not special...
And neither are you. Get over it!
I'm so tired of all the bumper stickers I see all over the place: "My child is an honor student at Fill-in-the-Blank Elementary!" "My child is Student of the Month at Such-and-so Middle School!" "My child is a STAR! at the Twinkletoes Dance Academy!" "My child is an Accelerated Reader!" "My child goes poop in the potty on a consistent basis!"
Except for the last one, I've seen all of the above (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent) in the past week. Plus all of the huge magnetic thingies that are shaped like cheerleader megaphones and football helmets and whatnot that announce the child's name and jersey number and what team s/he is on. I'm beginning to think the proliferation of Monstrous Behemoth SUVs is an outgrowth of the desire to turn the back of one's automobile into the personal billboard advertising the greatness of one's children.
My school is feeding the ego-frenzy, too. Instead of generic stickers that advertise the school, we now have stickers for football, stickers for cheerleading, stickers for the Arts Guild, stickers for the swim and dive team, et cetera. We do have generic school stickers, but we also now have stickers to go under the generic school sticker for Every Single Activity/Club/Sport in which your kid is involved. Bonus points if your sticker collection has to make two rows. (And I'm not talking just a "Band" sticker. We have "Marching Band," "Jazz Band," and "Concert Band." "Swimming" and "Diving" are two separate stickers.)
At one time, I think, putting stickers on your car advertised support for a school or organization with which one was involved, not one's individual achievements or accomplishments. Now it's all about the individual -- like the organization exists to showcase Your Specialness!
I'm having a hard time this year dealing with parents and children who believe that they are Special. It's not that I don't want children to believe that they are precious in the eyes of God and worthwhile individuals who have much to offer their world -- I do -- but it seems like more and more, I'm just seeing children who think they're the only persons who count in the world. Everybody Else has to meet certain standards, but I'm Special, and I need to be treated differently! And then I meet the parents, and I get where it's coming from.
Instill a sense of individual worth in your children -- that's great. But when it's not accompanied by the lesson that other people are just as worthy, then you've created Selfish Monstrous Bratty Beasts.
I'm so tired of all the bumper stickers I see all over the place: "My child is an honor student at Fill-in-the-Blank Elementary!" "My child is Student of the Month at Such-and-so Middle School!" "My child is a STAR! at the Twinkletoes Dance Academy!" "My child is an Accelerated Reader!" "My child goes poop in the potty on a consistent basis!"
Except for the last one, I've seen all of the above (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent) in the past week. Plus all of the huge magnetic thingies that are shaped like cheerleader megaphones and football helmets and whatnot that announce the child's name and jersey number and what team s/he is on. I'm beginning to think the proliferation of Monstrous Behemoth SUVs is an outgrowth of the desire to turn the back of one's automobile into the personal billboard advertising the greatness of one's children.
My school is feeding the ego-frenzy, too. Instead of generic stickers that advertise the school, we now have stickers for football, stickers for cheerleading, stickers for the Arts Guild, stickers for the swim and dive team, et cetera. We do have generic school stickers, but we also now have stickers to go under the generic school sticker for Every Single Activity/Club/Sport in which your kid is involved. Bonus points if your sticker collection has to make two rows. (And I'm not talking just a "Band" sticker. We have "Marching Band," "Jazz Band," and "Concert Band." "Swimming" and "Diving" are two separate stickers.)
At one time, I think, putting stickers on your car advertised support for a school or organization with which one was involved, not one's individual achievements or accomplishments. Now it's all about the individual -- like the organization exists to showcase Your Specialness!
I'm having a hard time this year dealing with parents and children who believe that they are Special. It's not that I don't want children to believe that they are precious in the eyes of God and worthwhile individuals who have much to offer their world -- I do -- but it seems like more and more, I'm just seeing children who think they're the only persons who count in the world. Everybody Else has to meet certain standards, but I'm Special, and I need to be treated differently! And then I meet the parents, and I get where it's coming from.
Instill a sense of individual worth in your children -- that's great. But when it's not accompanied by the lesson that other people are just as worthy, then you've created Selfish Monstrous Bratty Beasts.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Three years and counting...
Today The Greatest Man in the World and I are celebrating three years of wedded bliss. (It's also parent/teacher/student conference night tonight, so our celebrations won't really begin till after 7 p.m. But who wants an early dinner anyway, right?)
I don't pretend to be an expert on All Things Marriage, but I can say that after three years, it isn't what I expected -- it transcends expectations. It's also hard but rewarding work, this vocation.
The Holy Father's Angelus address from Sunday 8 October is addressed to married couples, and he puts it better than I can:
"My thought is directed to all Christian spouses: With them I thank the Lord for the gift of the sacrament of marriage, and exhort them to remain faithful to their vocation in each stage of life, "in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness," as they promised in the sacramental rite.
"May Christian spouses, aware of the grace received, build a family open to life and capable of facing together the numerous and complicated challenges of our time. Their testimony is particularly necessary today. Families are needed that do not let themselves be drawn by modern cultural currents inspired by hedonism and relativism, and that are willing to realize their mission in the Church and in society with generous dedication.
"In the apostolic exhortation "Familiaris Consortio," the Servant of God John Paul II wrote that the sacrament of marriage "makes Christian married couples and parents witnesses of Christ 'to the end of the earth,' as authentic 'missionaries' of love and life" (cf. No. 54). This mission is oriented both to the internal life of the family -- especially in mutual service and in the education of children -- as well as the external: the domestic community, in fact, is called to be the sign of God's love to all. The family can only fulfill this mission if it is supported by divine grace. For this reason, it is necessary to pray tirelessly and to persevere in the daily effort to keep the commitments assumed on the wedding day."
The biggest assumption I made about marriage three years ago was that it was mostly about my husband and me, and what wasn't about us was about our families and friends. That assumption's been turned on its head many times since; in fact, what our marriage is has less to do with us as individuals and more to do with what God is calling us to be in this mystery.
The priest who celebrated our wedding (God rest his soul) began the ceremony with the words "We interrupt this wedding to bring you...a miracle." And in the years since, I've realized he was right -- that this holy mystery is miraculous and a high calling, and through it, we are transformed and transforming, changed into something more than we were as individuals by His Divine Grace. I don't understand it -- I just try to live it.
I don't pretend to be an expert on All Things Marriage, but I can say that after three years, it isn't what I expected -- it transcends expectations. It's also hard but rewarding work, this vocation.
The Holy Father's Angelus address from Sunday 8 October is addressed to married couples, and he puts it better than I can:
"My thought is directed to all Christian spouses: With them I thank the Lord for the gift of the sacrament of marriage, and exhort them to remain faithful to their vocation in each stage of life, "in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness," as they promised in the sacramental rite.
"May Christian spouses, aware of the grace received, build a family open to life and capable of facing together the numerous and complicated challenges of our time. Their testimony is particularly necessary today. Families are needed that do not let themselves be drawn by modern cultural currents inspired by hedonism and relativism, and that are willing to realize their mission in the Church and in society with generous dedication.
"In the apostolic exhortation "Familiaris Consortio," the Servant of God John Paul II wrote that the sacrament of marriage "makes Christian married couples and parents witnesses of Christ 'to the end of the earth,' as authentic 'missionaries' of love and life" (cf. No. 54). This mission is oriented both to the internal life of the family -- especially in mutual service and in the education of children -- as well as the external: the domestic community, in fact, is called to be the sign of God's love to all. The family can only fulfill this mission if it is supported by divine grace. For this reason, it is necessary to pray tirelessly and to persevere in the daily effort to keep the commitments assumed on the wedding day."
The biggest assumption I made about marriage three years ago was that it was mostly about my husband and me, and what wasn't about us was about our families and friends. That assumption's been turned on its head many times since; in fact, what our marriage is has less to do with us as individuals and more to do with what God is calling us to be in this mystery.
The priest who celebrated our wedding (God rest his soul) began the ceremony with the words "We interrupt this wedding to bring you...a miracle." And in the years since, I've realized he was right -- that this holy mystery is miraculous and a high calling, and through it, we are transformed and transforming, changed into something more than we were as individuals by His Divine Grace. I don't understand it -- I just try to live it.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Teaching...English?
So. (I think I'll borrow that little opener from the lovely Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf -- it's simple yet profound. /digression)
My job description, if I had one, would probably include language about the teaching of English language and literature, helping students develop writing skills and critical analysis skills, and shepherding my youthful charges through various Extracurricular Activities that appropriately engage their interests and talents. Thank God it doesn't include coaching athletic teams, or I'd be sunk. Hand-eye coordination seems to be a prerequisite to most organized sports, and I am sorely lacking in that capacity. I don't know if it would include catechesis.
When I attended the National Catholic Educational Association annual convention last spring, I went to a session about the new publication from the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops: the National Directory for Catechesis. It's been out for maybe two years...so perhaps new isn't quite the term anymore. Recent, perhaps. Anyhow, the session was unfortunately only an hour long, so the presenter was forced to give some items a lick and a promise. I've since gone back and read further in the directory for myself.
The most striking assertion the directory makes is that every teacher in a Catholic school is a catechist...not just those in the theology/religious studies/whatever the term is nowadays department. Which, on reflection, shouldn't be all that striking, but still is.
I think back to my own seventeen years in Catholic schools (kindergarten through undergrad), and I can certainly think of great catechists who were and were not specifically engaged in religious instruction.
But what does it really mean? Yes, I begin each class with a prayer...but certainly that isn't the be-all and end-all? The best I've come up with so far is leading by example when possible: reverence during school Masses and morning prayer, annual assistance in preparing musicians for the Latin Mass in February, speaking to the faith and gender course for girls, and the like.
This week, though, I got two opportunities to be a bit more direct in the presentation of the Catholic faith: once in a class discussion and once because of a slightly flippant remark I made. (I know...first rule of teaching is don't make jokes. I break it constantly.)
A class discussion on The Lord of the Rings (in fantasy literature, so it was on topic) brought up the question of the moral licitness of using evil means to achieve a good end. I posited and believe Tolkien's work posits the teaching that one can never use evil means (i.e., The One Ring) to achieve a good end and that Saruman is an example of what happens to those who believe otherwise -- evil is a strong force and not to be trifled with. A student asked the question, "What about the dropping of the atomic bomb to end WWII?" And we were off on the issue of that which is evil in itself (malum in se) versus that which is morally neutral but can be put to evil ends. Without expounding too much on just war theory and Catholic teaching on war, the class and I concluded that nobody would say that dropping the A-bomb was a moral good but rather that it was an evil perpetrated to prevent the possible greater evil of an invasion of mainland Japan and the probable carnage and destruction on both sides. I was pleasantly surprised to hear how articulate the students were in their moral thinking and only had to insert the "Well, the Church teaches X" comment in a couple of places.
The second situation arose during a casual exchange with a student after class -- he'd gotten a detention for being out-of-uniform and wanted to get demerits instead of going to detention. I remarked that while he might prefer that option, I was fairly certain his mother and father wouldn't feel the same way. He expressed his feeling that parents have too much control in their children's lives as it is, and I said that as long as one is on one's parents' payroll, that's just how it is. I added "And when you're off the parental payroll, there's always that whole 'honor thy father and thy mother' thing as well."
The student then stated his belief that parents wrote that and furthermore that the Bible was man-made rather than divinely inspired. Luckily, we were going into the lunch period, and I could stop and chat with him about faith, reason, and the Bible. It's rare in the modern world that one is actually afforded an opportunity to share one's faith openly and unreservedly, and in truth, it's a little intimidating. I don't think I really made a life-changing major impression on this young man, but he was open and receptive to what I had to say and I think maybe a bit impressed that I could answer his assertions and questions logically and not with "Well, that's just what I believe." (Hat tip to my husband, a.k.a. The Greatest Man in the World, for introducing Bible study and apologetics into my faith formation -- although he can still whip my backside when it comes to knowing Scripture by heart. The Protestants have us Catholics beat soundly there.) We parted with his summation: "I accept faith because I can't see another acceptable alternative -- sort of why/why not. You're more why/because -- you actually believe it because you thought about it." I suggested that he read Mere Christianity.
I came home today feeling like I accomplished something. Maybe only a small seed planted, but something nonetheless. And it was a good, good day.
My job description, if I had one, would probably include language about the teaching of English language and literature, helping students develop writing skills and critical analysis skills, and shepherding my youthful charges through various Extracurricular Activities that appropriately engage their interests and talents. Thank God it doesn't include coaching athletic teams, or I'd be sunk. Hand-eye coordination seems to be a prerequisite to most organized sports, and I am sorely lacking in that capacity. I don't know if it would include catechesis.
When I attended the National Catholic Educational Association annual convention last spring, I went to a session about the new publication from the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops: the National Directory for Catechesis. It's been out for maybe two years...so perhaps new isn't quite the term anymore. Recent, perhaps. Anyhow, the session was unfortunately only an hour long, so the presenter was forced to give some items a lick and a promise. I've since gone back and read further in the directory for myself.
The most striking assertion the directory makes is that every teacher in a Catholic school is a catechist...not just those in the theology/religious studies/whatever the term is nowadays department. Which, on reflection, shouldn't be all that striking, but still is.
I think back to my own seventeen years in Catholic schools (kindergarten through undergrad), and I can certainly think of great catechists who were and were not specifically engaged in religious instruction.
But what does it really mean? Yes, I begin each class with a prayer...but certainly that isn't the be-all and end-all? The best I've come up with so far is leading by example when possible: reverence during school Masses and morning prayer, annual assistance in preparing musicians for the Latin Mass in February, speaking to the faith and gender course for girls, and the like.
This week, though, I got two opportunities to be a bit more direct in the presentation of the Catholic faith: once in a class discussion and once because of a slightly flippant remark I made. (I know...first rule of teaching is don't make jokes. I break it constantly.)
A class discussion on The Lord of the Rings (in fantasy literature, so it was on topic) brought up the question of the moral licitness of using evil means to achieve a good end. I posited and believe Tolkien's work posits the teaching that one can never use evil means (i.e., The One Ring) to achieve a good end and that Saruman is an example of what happens to those who believe otherwise -- evil is a strong force and not to be trifled with. A student asked the question, "What about the dropping of the atomic bomb to end WWII?" And we were off on the issue of that which is evil in itself (malum in se) versus that which is morally neutral but can be put to evil ends. Without expounding too much on just war theory and Catholic teaching on war, the class and I concluded that nobody would say that dropping the A-bomb was a moral good but rather that it was an evil perpetrated to prevent the possible greater evil of an invasion of mainland Japan and the probable carnage and destruction on both sides. I was pleasantly surprised to hear how articulate the students were in their moral thinking and only had to insert the "Well, the Church teaches X" comment in a couple of places.
The second situation arose during a casual exchange with a student after class -- he'd gotten a detention for being out-of-uniform and wanted to get demerits instead of going to detention. I remarked that while he might prefer that option, I was fairly certain his mother and father wouldn't feel the same way. He expressed his feeling that parents have too much control in their children's lives as it is, and I said that as long as one is on one's parents' payroll, that's just how it is. I added "And when you're off the parental payroll, there's always that whole 'honor thy father and thy mother' thing as well."
The student then stated his belief that parents wrote that and furthermore that the Bible was man-made rather than divinely inspired. Luckily, we were going into the lunch period, and I could stop and chat with him about faith, reason, and the Bible. It's rare in the modern world that one is actually afforded an opportunity to share one's faith openly and unreservedly, and in truth, it's a little intimidating. I don't think I really made a life-changing major impression on this young man, but he was open and receptive to what I had to say and I think maybe a bit impressed that I could answer his assertions and questions logically and not with "Well, that's just what I believe." (Hat tip to my husband, a.k.a. The Greatest Man in the World, for introducing Bible study and apologetics into my faith formation -- although he can still whip my backside when it comes to knowing Scripture by heart. The Protestants have us Catholics beat soundly there.) We parted with his summation: "I accept faith because I can't see another acceptable alternative -- sort of why/why not. You're more why/because -- you actually believe it because you thought about it." I suggested that he read Mere Christianity.
I came home today feeling like I accomplished something. Maybe only a small seed planted, but something nonetheless. And it was a good, good day.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Heart of an Empire
So. Notre Dame won, Florida State won, my sister is engaged :-) and Dragon*Con was great. It's always fun to see all the wild and fabulous costumes, and since they added the YA lit track, I actually feel like I'm doing work! Well...maybe. Work disguised as fun, perhaps.
The Greatest Man in the World and I busted our backsides to get down to the con on Monday morning at 10 so that I could go to a panel with some of the actors from the Harry Potter films. On the schedule, the panel was listed as being in one room, but when I got to that room, I was told it was in a different room, so I hiked over to the other end of the hotel and found...no Harry Potter actors.
What I found was a large poster advertising a film called Heart of an Empire. If you're a Star Wars nerd like me, you might have heard of the Fighting 501st, a group of people around the world who dress up like stormtroopers and clone troopers and various other Imperial folks. They aren't affiliated with Lucasfilm in any way and they aren't a LARP; they just like to dress up like the characters and do various events.
I didn't have anything else I was doing till 11:30, so when one of the filmmakers told me that the Harry Potter thing was cancelled but I was welcome to stay for the screening, I said "Sure."
I'd always thought that grown people dressing like movie characters was a little weird and a little cool at the same time. What I didn't know -- and what most people won't know -- is the impact that someone dressed like a stormtrooper can have on someone else. I won't spoil the movie for anyone, but suffice it to say...I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats. And I left with a new respect for the power of imagination and of that inventive mythology of George Lucas'.
The Greatest Man in the World and I busted our backsides to get down to the con on Monday morning at 10 so that I could go to a panel with some of the actors from the Harry Potter films. On the schedule, the panel was listed as being in one room, but when I got to that room, I was told it was in a different room, so I hiked over to the other end of the hotel and found...no Harry Potter actors.
What I found was a large poster advertising a film called Heart of an Empire. If you're a Star Wars nerd like me, you might have heard of the Fighting 501st, a group of people around the world who dress up like stormtroopers and clone troopers and various other Imperial folks. They aren't affiliated with Lucasfilm in any way and they aren't a LARP; they just like to dress up like the characters and do various events.
I didn't have anything else I was doing till 11:30, so when one of the filmmakers told me that the Harry Potter thing was cancelled but I was welcome to stay for the screening, I said "Sure."
I'd always thought that grown people dressing like movie characters was a little weird and a little cool at the same time. What I didn't know -- and what most people won't know -- is the impact that someone dressed like a stormtrooper can have on someone else. I won't spoil the movie for anyone, but suffice it to say...I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats. And I left with a new respect for the power of imagination and of that inventive mythology of George Lucas'.
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