12/28/2007
Dear Guy-sitting-next-to-me-on-the-plane,
You wanna know why I don't want to talk to you?
Well, just to name few reasons: (1) you made mention more than once of your desire to physically harm all hippies, all Yankees, any guy that wears a pink shirt, all persons from California, and all persons from Oklahoma; (2) one of your life goals is to "talk to every person in Texas" (What?); (3) you prefaced more than four statements with, "This is going to make me sound racist, but..."; (4) as you got drunker, you edged your legs and arms closer to me, until I, trying desperately to just not have to touch you, found myself plastered against the wall of the plane, which was I guess a good thing; because (5) if I had been taking up my whole seat, you would have spilled your glass of whiskey on me and not just on two-thirds of my seat; (6) you stared at me while I was reading my book, and asked me each time I underlined something or made a note why I was doing that; (7) you stared at me for minutes at a time while I watched a movie and yelled loudly at me "Why are you laughing at me?" every time I smiled at the movie; (8) you woke me up to ask me "Do you prefer Mandy or Amanda?" and when I replied, "I'm not sure what you're talking about," you heatedly responded, with your face an inch from mine despite my desperate attempts to back away, "Listen, Erin, I want to see you again. I like hanging out with you, and I want to see you next week."
I don't like "hanging out with you," and I don't want to see you next week.
Very sincerely,
Ellen
12/26/2007
'olidays for me
12/22/2007
pope dot el
Also cool is the photography exhibit downstairs, "Girls on the Verge: Portraits of Adolescence." You can't tell from this image, but the series of photos below, by Lalla Essaydi, depict girls and women dressed in and surrounded by cloth inscribed with Islamic calligraphy written in henna that also covers the exposed skin of each of the subjects. The placard at the exhibit said that the writing is typically reserved for the use of men only, but I'm not finding that specification here. Anyway, very cool. I'd recommend both if you're in Chicago!
(What intelligent commentary I've provided here! "Pretty sweet" and "very cool." A compelling review, no?)
12/18/2007
12/15/2007
something sort of cool and something REALLY cool
Took me a minute to realize what I was doing here.
answer: checking a project I'd designed against Bloom's Taxonomy to make sure that I'd given roughly equal attention to assessment of work in each of the cognitive domains -- and adding on paper numbers that I should be able to add in my head
And the REALLY cool thing? Melissa, my good friend and thoughtful blog commenter, is coming to Chicago in March!
the battle cry of my generation:
Seriously, if we had a "Remember the Alamo!" I think it would be "Don't tase me, bro!"
I mean, someone even re-mixed it:
Andrew wrote about this when it was actually new news. I think he's particularly poignant with his closing, "So be warned, young Americans, we may participate in the democratic process, but only for 45 seconds at a time."
Why am I writing about this now? Well first, a couple weeks ago I read this article for Campus Progress in which Tim Fernholz rips into journalist Courtney Martin for her article "The Problem with youth Activism" that blasts American college-aged activists for going about things all wrong.
"[Typical youth socio-political activism today] is sweetly collaborative, mainly focused on raising awareness among students, very keyed in to particular dates (Love Your Body Day, Earth Day, Black History Month), and most of all, safe," she writes.
He responds, "Martin would like to see today’s young activists adopt the tactics of the 1960’s student radicals—protests, theatrics, and the like. Martin’s complaint is that young people today are too complacent, too safe, and too co-opted by 'the man.' We’re just not angry enough, she argues. But today’s young activists are angry—they’re just too busy attempting to create meaningful change to sit around waving signs." And he goes on to chastise her for calling it "Youth Activism" when really she only addresses activists on college campuses (campi?). Nice point.
Last night, in a totally unrelated conversation, a friend of mine quoted, "Don't tase me, bro!" Since we all got the allusion, we laughed knowingly and moved on. It's some kind of joke. But come on. "Don't tase me bro!"?
As much as I think it's funny, re-watching the video this morning made me sad.They seriously tased him. And I can't understand how he was in the wrong. And nobody responded to his cries of, "Will somebody please help me!"
For young activists like us, this seems to be pretty quintessential The-Man-is-so-fucked-up. But then at the same time, for The Man, it's probably quintessential these-kids-are-morons. "Don't tase me bro!" What the fuck?
12/14/2007
books in your pants
So a long time ago, John's friend Maureen posted on her blog about a conversation that she had with John and E. Lockhart in which they discussed book titles that would be better if they'd been suffixed "in your pants." And then Hank and John posted videos in which they suggested even more in-your-pants titles. Since then, in-your-pants has really taken off on their site; their forum is called "My Pants" and they often suggest that viewers post comments in My Pants.
But I think they missed a few, so I've gathered some of the books from my room that I think get better once they're in-your-pants-ed.
Welcome to the Monkey House in Your Pants by Kurt Vonnegut
My Life in Your Pants by Bill Clinton
A Farewell to Arms in Your Pants by Ernest Hemingway
Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs in Your Pants by Chuck Klosterman
There Are No Children Here in Your Pants by Alex Kotlowitz
The Giver in Your Pants by Lois Lowry
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in Your Pants by Douglas Adams
Inherit the Wind in Your Pants by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E Lee
To the Lighthouse in Your Pants by Virginia Woolf
The Woman Warrior in Your Pants by Maxine Hong Kingston
Passing in Your Pants by Nella Larson
The Spanish Tragedy in Your Pants by Thomas Kyd
White Noise in Your Pants by Don DeLillo
The Women of Brewster Place in Your Pants by Gloria Naylor
And China Has Hands in Your Pants by H.T. Tsiang
The City of Joy in Your Pants by Dominique Lapierre
Invisible Man in Your Pants by Ralph Ellison
Coming of Age in Your Pants by Studs Terkel
Still I Rise in Your Pants by Roland Owen Laird, Jr. and Taneshia Nash Laird
Borrowed Time in Your Pants by Paul Monette
In some cases, these titles get funnier if you use "in My Pants" instead.
12/11/2007
post 100!
Going through the mounds of paperwork I've collected over the past few months, I found my copy of this new version of The Pledge (on the right) that Steve from the Y wrote with his friend Joan and brought to a meeting a few weeks or so ago. Me likey.
And speaking of thinking people from the Y are sweet, how funny is Amy? (She's writing to let me know that there are some letters to donors that I need to come in and sign so that she can send them out.):
12/10/2007
little kids are SO weird
So I said: "Hey! Your tongues are going to stick!"
cute kid 1: "Huh?"
me: "Your tongues are going to stick to the pole!"
cute kid 2: "No they're not."
me: "Okay."
cute kid 3: "Are you going to tell?"
me: "No. What do I look like?"
cute kid 1: "We like to eat these."
me: "Well what about the germs?"
cute kid 2: "We like to eat these."
me: "Okay."
12/09/2007
Here's a silly piece I wrote for a class this semester,
This one goes out to all the haters: the back-to-basics, the five-paragraph-essays, the your-not-you’res and the you’re-not-yours, to the SATs and the ACTs, to the canonical-texts, and to the Standard-Englishes and English-Onlys; this one goes out to the cartoons-are-Saturday-morning-kid-stuffs: y’all are missing OUT!
I call urgently for inclusion of comics in language arts classrooms because:
1. It allows language arts teachers to be language and art teachers.
In Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud maps out what he calls “the pictoral vocabulary," a comprehensive and multidimensional system of understanding how we represent what we’re thinking, feeling, seeing, being, wanting, needing, doing, etc (51-3). When classroom literacy gets isolated into one corner of Scott’s map, boringness threatens, but more importantly, students miss out on learning vital literacy skills. Go ahead and teach traditional text after traditional-ol’ text, and come crawling back to the graphic novel when you can’t peel your students away from the television and computer screen as they desperately seek ways to practice their visual literacy skills. The point is, whether we give students the opportunity to practice visual literacy in classrooms or not, they are going to seek out and encounter visual texts on their own anyway. Now, we could leave them to their own devices, and let them find and use their own strategies for understanding the visual texts that inundate their everyday lives, or we can guide them to critical readings and analyses of these texts, just as we guide them into critical reading and analyses of traditional texts. Why not show students that even a TV show is a text, a text ripe for questioning like any other text they’re used to seeing in English class? Take those close readings, those understandings of symbolism, irony, paradox, and ambiguity; take those deconstruction methods; take those contextualization skills, and apply them to Will Eisner’s texts as well as Will Shakespeare’s! That’s all I’m saying! (Except that I’m also about to say that reading comics takes those skills and more!)
2. Yeah, students need visual literacy skills.
I’m going to loosely define visual literacy as what it takes to make meaning of magazine ads, billboards, movies, facial expressions, hairstyles, flow-charts, tabloids, Picasso, and maps. More or less. Gunther Kress and Theo van Leeuwen, in The Grammar of Visual Design, write about the ability to understand and produce “a complex interplay of written text, images and other graphic elements, and ... these elements combine[d] together into visual designs, by means of layout” (15). If you don’t teach students to read this stuff, and further, to compose this stuff, they’re not going to ask pressing questions about what they see in a world that requires them to take in and put out visual messages all day. Students who have practice with reading and manipulating visual texts will have an advantage over those who don’t. Let’s eliminate the “those who don’t” category. Students who are well-versed in visual semiotics, for example, will be able to look critically at a political debate before they vote, at advertisements for products they’re considering purchasing, at graphs they’re preparing for presentations, at their homes when they’re attempting to sell them, at clothes they’re considering wearing to job interviews, and at countless other nontraditional texts that nonetheless send messages. Pictures aren’t just for kids; they can be difficult and engaging – but not so difficult that students can’t learn their grammar. Kress and van Leeuwen observe that, “visual communication is either treated as the domain of a very small elite of specialists, or disvalued as a possible form of expression for articulate, reasoned communication, seen as a ‘childish’ stage one grows out of.” Word. (/Picture.) So comics can be eschewed from the language arts classroom as a way to ask students to grow out of their old picture books, or they can be held off as art teachers’ territory. Or, language arts teachers could embrace the opportunity that comics give them to draw on students’ prior experience with their childhood picture books and build into reading images using complex reading strategies. I’ll take what’s behind door number three, please!
3. All texts are visual, but comics are ultra-visual, and therefore better.
When we read any written text, we see the ink on the page, we process the arrangement of ink, and we make meaning from that arrangement. But check this out [image of traditional text], and check this out [image of Palestine]. Teach comic books and teach sequencing (McCloud 5), juxtaposition (7), iconography (26), closure (95), composition of space, time, change, and memory (115), synaesthtics (123), interdependency (149); give students the opportunity to think critically about what’s language and what’s art; what’s both (164). What could happen to students who don’t learn to read and write visually? I’d rather not think about it. But for the sake of going there, here’s what might happen:
4. Students might not learn to scrutinize essentialism if they don’t learn how to read comics.
Cat – it’s the ultimate classroom example for understanding deconstruction (Parker 54). When you have the word cat, Parker explains, "you can imagine a reference to the familiar domestic feline, or to a hugely inconsistent range of felines, domestic and wild, living and extinct. It can also refer to a bulldozer, a stylish man, any of several different colleges of advanced technology, the act of masculine philandering (catting around), a backbiting woman, a catfish, a CAT scan, a catalytic converter, and so on through a long and continuously evolving list of other meanings" (54).
In more technical terms, one signifier, cat, has multiple signifieds, all of the above. But when you’ve got [an image of “the familiar domestic feline”], the bulldozer possibility becomes a little less probable. A more problematic example? Signifer: woman. Signified: [image of a stereotypically feminine woman]. Now what? McCloud goes on and on about how cool the “universality of cartoon imagery” is because “the more cartoony a face is, for instance, the more people it could be said to describe” (31). Read: the more cartoony a signifier gets, the more we can make generalizations about the signified. Which would seem rather limiting. Except that I have this theory of the wink.
The wink: ;-)
The wink is a visual icon for “I’m kidding/I’m just playing/I’m being a little facetious here” (For the purposes of this text, I’ll refrain from deconstructing ;-) into “Come hither,” “Hey, kiddo,” “You know what I’m sayin, dawg?,” “My eye’s twitching,” etc. – or at least I’ll refrain from doing so outside of these parentheses.) So: given that the production of a text involves an innumerable set of choices (this-word-or- that, this-character-trait-or-that, this-event-or-that – or that or that or that), and given that comics bring together words and pictures and therefore multiply the range of choices by this-image-or-that, this-line-or-that, this-color-or-that, this-size-space-or-that (– or that or that or that), comics texts, even when they seem to send irreconcilably essentialist messages (i.e. This is what a woman looks like; this is what a Black person looks like; this is what God looks like), can wink at readers, can signify nuance.
They can wink at readers, that is, if readers know how to and so wish to make eye-contact with the text, get intimately critical with that text. When the reader is aware of the text’s creation process, that is, the set of innumerable choices the creator made, s/he can look for and find instances of textual ;-)ing. Paulo Freire might have called this ;-)-search in the classroom a type of “problem-posing education [that] involves a constant unveiling of reality... striv[ing] for the emergence of consciousness and critical intervention in reality” (68). And when students do that, there’s nothing absolutely wrong with using a problematic text. In fact, it’s useful. In one of her many works on the importance of prioritizing critical literacy in English language arts classrooms, Hilary Janks “uses critical discourse analysis to show that [certain advertisements put out by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR)], designed to dispose us kindly to refugees, are premised on a discourse of sameness that constructs difference negatively” (1). She goes on in this article to deconstruct this discourse of sameness communicated by both images and written text in one of the advertisements:
In Spot the refugee, an obvious place to begin is with the opening instruction, prominent because it is printed in capital letters in a large bold font. This is the only command in a text that is otherwise made up of statements. If you respond to this imperative by looking carefully at the lego figures, trying to find the one that stands out as a refugee, the text has already constructed you as someone who thinks of refugees as visibly different. If you refuse this construction, but are nevertheless intrigued by the juxtaposition of lego dolls and refugees, you may start reading the text. If you then look for the refugee in the Fourth row, second from the left. The one with the moustache, you will nevertheless have been reeled in by the text, only to discover that you have been cheated, because—
The unsavoury looking character you’re looking at is more likely to be your average
neighbourhood slob with a grubby vest and a weekend’s stubble on his chin. And the real refugee could just as easily be the clean-cut fellow on his left.In addition, you will have been constructed as someone who assumes that refugees look like “unsavoury”, unshaved “slobs”. And because you are now someone who sees refugees as both different from and inferior to you, you need to learn that “clean-cut” refugees are just like you and me. But do not worry, the UNHCR is there to set us straight. (Janks 4-5)
In this example, what Janks implies but doesn’t explicitly state is how the images of the lego dolls don’t just reinforce the messages in the visual text, but are rather an integral element of the text as a whole. (Incidentally, same thing goes for comics.) The advertisement overtly commands viewers to read the lego images; this students can do, and do do, on their own every time they watch television or read a billboard. That’s where prior knowledge comes in; students are familiar with combinations of images and words. What Janks demonstrates, and what she later asks teachers to help students do, is to build on this prior knowledge by reading the advertisement critically, analyzing the ways that the lego images work with the words to alienate and stigmatize refugees even as the UNHCR purports to do the opposite.
If more students learned to look for and recognize ;-)ing texts in the ways that Janks proposes, then maybe those students would have less trouble deconstructing pervasive images like this [Bush with the Mission Accomplished banner]. What’s wrong with literacy education when students’ can’t or aren’t asking what’s wrong (or right?) with this picture? Nothing un-fixable; just teach comics!
Okay, wait. Sure, you could work to “unveil reality,” as Freire suggests, within a word-only text, but using comics to do so is way better because comics more obviously reinforce metacognition. The very form of a comic text challenges an alphabetic text in the way that critically literate persons challenge every text. When a comic means “woman” and draws a human figure wearing a dress, the comic lays down essentialist content in an essentialist form. Once students learn the grammar of visual semiotics (eg. how does one communicate “woman” with an image), then practicing that visual grammar by reading comics lets them practice their pointing and jeering at the essentialization of what it means, or looks like, to be, for example, a woman. Or if you prefer critical consideration to pointing and jeering, that could work, too. Word-only texts invite these types of critical considerations also, I know. But compared to comics that lay it all out there for the reader, for better of worse, in an image-laden and therefore familiar form, word-only texts start to seem a little dodgy. You get a text from your friend Keisha, for example, that reads “How’s it hangin?” and you might reply “Can’t complain. What’s up with you?” If Keisha clarifies her message, though, by sending a picture of the Matisse she just bought and mounted, you might more helpfully reply, “It’s upside down.” For students learning to read critically, comics are more accessibly interpretable because of the fact that they employ a pictoral vocabulary that more often than not shows the reader what they mean more statically and universally than do words with their multiple meanings.
5. Um, students are already reading comics (or comics-like texts) anyway. Use that.
And not just as a ploy to “make school fun.” No, play the game. Meet those standards. Remember at the beginning of this rant when I warned that your students are already taking in combinations of images and texts in infinite multiplicities? (Okay, well actually I said, “Go ahead and teach traditional text after traditional-ol’ text, and come crawling back to the graphic novel when you can’t peel your students away from the television and computer screen as they desperately seek ways to practice their visual literacy skills.”) Let me reiterate that. Students are interested in comics. In his introduction to Building Literacy Connections with Graphic Novels: Page By Page, Panel By Panel, James Bucky Carter cites study after study that affirms the use of comics in the classroom as valuable tools for practicing Freire’s reality unveil-ation with students who are reluctant readers, reluctant writers, English language learners, and also, um, any student who spends any time engaging with our visually-saturated pop culture. Nancy Frey and Douglas Fisher, in the same volume, submit convincing anecdotal evidence to this accord: Comics, they write, “provided a visual vocabulary of sorts for scaffolding writing techniques, particularly dialogue, tone, and mood,” and that they “afforded [them] a space to provide students with instruction on the craft and mechanics of writing” (143). Finally, their students “not only became better writers, but also better consumers of ideas and information” (143). In short, by using texts, or textual formats, with which students already feel familiar, language arts teachers can affirm the knowledge and skills that students already have as a way of motivating them to learn and acquire more knowledge and skills.
So it goes that (1) if comics give teachers a way to teach language (and) arts as a broad system of representation that (2) build visual literacy which is (3) an essential skill that (4) invites students to practice critical literacy, and that (5) makes that type of literacy accessible to all students*, then not teaching comics disallows all of the above and therefore condemns students to the festering status quo.
* I'm not sure how to accommodate a graphic novel, nor therefore this text, to the literacy needs of students with visual impairments that inhibit their abilities to see a text. I'm not not thinking about this; I just haven't come up with anything yet.
12/06/2007
When will we stop referring to Hillary as Bill's wife?
From CNN.com's "Kennedy aide: Romney's views on religion very different from JFK's"
Senator Obama and Mrs. Clinton. Funny, I was under the impression that they're both Senators.Q. Kennedy's speech in 1960 is widely viewed as being successful. Do you think Romney's speech is likely to be viewed as a success?
Sorensen: I assume so. I don't think Mr. Romney should be denied the presidency because of his religion. Just as I don't think Senator [Barack] Obama should be denied because of his race. Or that Mrs. [Hillary] Clinton should be denied the presidency because of her gender. This country is in deep, serious trouble, and thoughtful citizens surely are going to make up their minds based on the major issues confronting the country and the major qualities of the candidates and not on such superficial tests as religion, race, or gender.
I am so sick of this archaic bullshit. Man and wife, not man and woman. Mr. and Mrs. or Miss, not Mr. and Ms. (Or Ms. and Ms., or Mr. and Mr., for that matter.)
Senator Clinton is a highly-qualified, articulate, intelligent presidential candidate; she's not in the news because she's married to Bill.
(And by the way, since when are religion, race, and gender "superficial" issues? I must have missed that memo when I was too busy looking for a husband by whom I can define myself.)
12/05/2007
commemoration, just in case
Okay, so I'll most likely have reflective analyses to do for my education classes next year, and I'll definitely have to write a philosophy of education. But this is the last real paper. My last piece of literary critical analysis. How sad.
As I'm reading back over what I've written of this last paper thus far I'm struck by how much my writing has changed in my time at UIUC. For example, I've used the word I in this paper six times already. In this blog post, so far, I've ended three clauses (one sentence) with a preposition. And this is the sixth sentence fragment. Four years of undergraduate coursework in English, and this is what I have to show for it. (And by this, I mean a departure from giving a rat's fat ass about mechanical convention and an energized focus on finding interesting and worthwhile things to read and write about, like the texts I'm writing about for this last paper, and the ones I'm using to inform my response.)
Forgive me the obnoxious navel-gazing, I'm just having a moment with my English-major-hood that's ending this week.
(And sure, I'll probably go back to grad school. This probably isn't my last paper. But things happen, and I thought I'd say a few words just in case.) Lots of parentheses in this post.
11/29/2007
tormented soul
Now, in his photo, the guy looks pretty well-adjusted. But I can't help thinking that with a little embellishment, this guy sounds like a great protagonist for a short story or something. Methodically driving around a relatively small town on the same route everyday, eternally tormented by catchy little diddies that run through his head incessantly. He can write them down and sell them and try to move on from them, but there's always a new jingle playing in his mind... "I gotta get to the autopark! The O'Brien Autopark" (People in C-U might know which jingle I'm referring to.) And he's good at it, so there's always some local company willing to pay him for a new one. And he hears his work on the radio as he's driving around, but even when he's not driving, he's constantly hearing radio jingles. He tries listening to other music, but once it's done playing, he remembers it cheesier. Like the KidzBop versions of already overly-catchy pop songs.
11/26/2007
a short found poem from a few minutes of AIM converstaion/a display of questionable blog ethics
H (10:26:37 PM): it should be a fun weekend.
I need to get something to wear to the christmas party though.
I had a christmas sweater, but dumb me forgot it at home.
C (10:38:32 PM): once and awhile I can hear their nails
scratching against a hard surface in the walls
E (10:47:18 PM): yea, and I always have my mom,
which I know is lame,
but she can be cool
...sometimes
E (10:47:30 PM): and those cats cant live forever
A (10:47:12 PM): I felt really comfortable at home
until my mom started making passive aggressive comments about me
without ever making eye-contact with me
E (10:51:27 PM): if I get an amazing job,
the rest will fall into place
E (10:51:35 PM): I am looking at internships in NYC
11/25/2007
11/24/2007
famous friends
I have something much less maddening to post on later...
Guest Columnist EdNews.org
Back to school nowadays means back to classrooms, lessons and textbooks permeated by multiculturalism and its championing of "diversity." Many parents and teachers regard multiculturalism as an indispensable educational supplement, a salutary influence that "enriches" the curriculum. But is it?
With the world's continents bridged by the Internet and global commerce, multiculturalism claims to offer a real value: a cosmopolitan, rather than provincial, understanding of the world beyond the student's immediate surroundings. But it is a peculiar kind of "broadening." Multiculturalists would rather have students admire the primitive patterns of Navajo blankets, say, than learn why Islam's medieval golden age of scientific progress was replaced by fervent piety and centuries of stagnation.
Leaf through a school textbook and you'll find that there is a definite pattern behind multiculturalism's reshaping of the curriculum. What multiculturalists seek is not the goal they advertise, but something else entirely. Consider, for instance, the teaching of history.
One text acclaims the inhabitants of West Africa in pre-Columbian times for having prosperous economies and for establishing a university in Timbuktu; but it ignores their brutal trade in slaves and the proliferation of far more consequential institutions of learning in Paris, Oxford and elsewhere in Europe. Some books routinely lionize the architecture of the Aztecs, but purposely overlook or underplay the fact that they practiced human sacrifices. A few textbooks seek to portray Islam as peaceful in part by presenting the concept of "jihad" ("sacred war") to mean an internal struggle to surmount temptation and evil, while playing down Islam's actual wars of religious conquest.
What these textbooks reveal is a concerted effort to portray the most backward, impoverished and murderous cultures as advanced, prosperous and life-enhancing. Multiculturalism's goal is not to teach about other cultures, but to promote--by means of distortions and half-truths--the notion that non-Western cultures are as good as, if not better than, Western culture. Far from "broadening" the curriculum, what multiculturalism seeks is to diminish the value of Western culture in the minds of students. But, given all the facts, the objective superiority of Western culture is apparent, so multiculturalists must artificially elevate other cultures and depreciate the West.
If students were to learn the truth of the hardscrabble life of primitive farming in, say, India, they would recognize that subsistence living is far inferior to life on any mechanized farm in Kansas, which demands so little manpower, yet yields so much. An informed, rational student would not swallow the "politically correct" conclusions he is fed by multiculturalism. If he were given the actual facts, he could recognize that where men are politically free, as in the West, they can prosper economically; that science and technology are superior to superstition; that man's life is far longer, happier and safer in the West today than in any other culture in history.
The ideals, achievements and history of Western culture in general--and of America in particular--are therefore purposely given short-shrift by multiculturalism. That the Industrial Revolution and the Information Age were born and flourished in Western nations; that the preponderance of Nobel prizes in science have been awarded to people in the West--such facts, if they are noted, are passed over with little elaboration.
The "history" that students do learn is rewritten to fit multiculturalism's agenda. Consider the birth of the United States. Some texts would have children believe the baseless claim that America's Founders modeled the Constitution on a confederation of Indian tribes. This is part of a wider drive to portray the United States as a product of the "convergence" of three traditions--native Indian, African and European. But the American republic, with an elected government limited by individual rights, was born not of stone-age peoples, but primarily of the European Enlightenment. It is a product of the ideas of thinkers like John Locke, a British philosopher, and his intellectual heirs in colonial America, such as Thomas Jefferson.
It is a gross misconception to view multiculturalism as an effort to enrich education. By reshaping the curriculum, the purveyors of "diversity" in the classroom calculatedly seek to prevent students from grasping the objective value to human life of Western culture--a culture whose magnificent achievements have brought man from mud huts to moon landings.
Multiculturalism is no boon to education, but an agent of anti-Western ideology.
Elan Journo is a junior fellow at the Ayn Rand Institute (www.aynrand.org) in Irvine, Calif. The Institute promotes Objectivism, the philosophy of Ayn Rand--author of "Atlas Shrugged" and "The Fountainhead." Contact the writer at media@aynrand.org.
11/20/2007
11/16/2007
sweet websites, man
I find ratemyprofessor.com a little disturbing. It just invites all kinds of mean-spiritedness. I've never actually consulted it before registering for classes, but when I heard about it, I perused it to check out some of the ratings of profs I've had. Actually, most of them got great ratings and positive comments. Most, but not all. I'm all for constructive criticism, but there's something decidedly not-constructive about a forum wherein those being critiqued have no space for feedback or defense. There's no dialogue, just one-sided attack, which might be okay in other venues like movie reviews, concert reviews, etc., but to me, that's just not what education should be about.
"Way too difficult for a #00 level class, for the tests you have to memorize over 150 terms and only 15 are actualy on there. the lectures are really difficult to take notes on and he focuses on history rather than the texts themselves, they aren't letting him teach ### anymore, thank god, but now [another prof] is and shes a giant snob"This kind of thing just makes me sad. I didn't find any "this prof is so hot"-type comments, which would have been even more depressing, but I know they're there because there's also Professors Strike Back on which many (mostly female) profs say thanks-but-no-thanks to their moron "complimenters." Ugh. Profs Strike Back is hosted by MTV and is just about as unproductive as its student counterpart. (But admittedly, a little funnier.)
"STOP TEACHING NOW PLEASE"
"My third class with [prof's name], I used to dislike her but now I get her.She NEVER hands anything back and you won't get a grade till you're final one, but if you participate alot and keep up on the reading you should be okay in the end or maybe not as the class smarties got B's.Shes really loopy and we have a theory that she comes to class ****"
Finally, this to-do list blog is pretty sweet.
11/15/2007
11/14/2007
resonance
Maybe it's just because it's a song about something that happens to lots of people and so there's a sort of generally-accepted way of feeling or reacting when that happens and this particular artist happened to articulate well that cliche reaction.
(I'm not comfortable revealing the song or the artist because I feel like it's too personal. It's as if you knowing what song it was would allow you to know exactly how I secretly feel. Isn't that weird?)
This is not an original experience I'm having, this recognizing myself in someone else's art. James Baldwin wrote, "It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive or who had ever been alive."
Most commonly, at least most commonly noticed by me, this phenomenon gets manifested in people's away messages on AIM, or "Favorite "Quote" sections in Facebook. Things can get pretty emo in those two contexts. I'm not talking about people quoting universal-truthism kinds of things, but more like this-is-how-I-feel-right-now type things.
I'm listening to the song in question again right now, and I have to say, it's pretty intense. How interesting...
11/12/2007
maps as storytellers
I especially enjoy the first act, in which Ira talks with Denis Wood, author of The Power of Maps. Wood tells Ira about the maps he's made of his neighborhood, Boylan Heights in Raleigh, North Carolina, that attempt to spatially represent what it's like to live there. He's describing one of his maps when Ira observes, "That makes a neighborhood sound like a living organism," and he replies, "It is a living organism!" Couldn't agree more.
He maps the traffic signs, the pumpkins on porches, the addresses of all those people mentioned in the neighborhood's newsletter, the pools of light cast by the street lights in the neighborhood. His thing is "selecting subjects for cartographic display that are other than those that are typically picked." He's trying to write a novel with maps, he says, "Why not?"
Some of Wood's maps are here.
11/11/2007
told me to tell you
One of her neighbor's bought three chocolate bars from me; that is, six dollars into my manilla envelope, and not hers. And she was pissed. An argument over who had the right to sell candy to that particular neighbor ensued, escalated, and culminated in my hair getting pulled. (I'm going somewhere with this, by the way.) This is the way that I remember the incident, although I'm sure she recalls it differently.
Anyway, I ended up running home crying, and darting down to my parents' office in the basement to relate my tale of woe to my mom. I can't remember her advice, but it must have been sufficient for helping me to move on; because, I was making my way back upstairs to my room when I passed the back door and happened to engage in what was to be one of the most poignant scenes of my life. My friend stood there, her cheeks stained with tears. "MY MOM SAID TO TELL YOU I'M SORRY!" she said, in a kind of heavy-metal sing-song. "FINE!" I responded. And it actually did end up being fine, much to both of our relief.
Yesterday I had the honor of attending an awards banquet put on by the College of Education for the purpose of recognizing outstanding scholars and giving them a chance to thank their scholarship sponsors. I was seated at a table with my parents and two of my brothers, a classmate, her father, and the grandson of the sponsor of a scholarship I was given.
Throughout brunch, my sponsor's grandson told me about his grandmother and her commitment to education. She sounds like a really interesting and admirable woman, and so when it was time for me to accept my scholarship and say a word of thanks, I was sincere in my gratitude for being awarded in her name.
After pictures with the Dean, I went back to my table and handed the folder with the certificate in it to my mom so that she could have a look. Amused, she handed it back to me, calling my attention to the flyer inside that reads in CAPS locked, bolded italics, "PLEASE MAKE SURE TO HAND WRITE YOUR NOTE TO YOUR DONOR" It goes on:
Give me a freaking break; this is hilarious. Recalling the World's Finest adventure, I've got this image of myself standing slouched at this woman's back door, apathetically mumbling, "The College of Ed told me to tell you I'm grateful."
SAMPLE:
Dear Dr./Mr. or Mrs. Donor:
1st paragraph
- tell why you are writing
- refer to scholarship by its name
2nd paragraph
- talk about where you are from, year of study & your major/focus
- you may want to reveal why you chose to attend UIUC
- point out your accomplishments, professional affiliations or oranizational involvement
3rd paragraph
- close by sharing your goals & future plans
- be sure to thank the donor for their generosity in providing this scholarship and tell the donor how their support has made a difference
Thank the donor again.
Sincerely,
Your name
11/07/2007
Normally, I'm not a Reuters fan,
'"Best mom' chosen as face of currency"
"Waking up to nosebleeds in super-dry autumn"
11/05/2007
University of Illinois has officially retired the Chief... NOT!
How incredibly disappointing. What I'd really like is a fast forward button to get this University, which does do some really cool things, I swear, past this embarrassing mess. I'm really sick of the "Paint the Stadium Chief" signs in many of the campus and local businesses. (The ones in the Illini apparel shops are what really get me. Capitalist pigs!) I'm sick of "Honor the Chief" t-shirts. I'm sick of Facebook groups like "We will never forget the Chief!"2007 Homecoming Parade Floats
Statement:
Earlier this year, the University retired the use of Chief Illiniwek and Native American imagery as symbols of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and its intercollegiate athletics programs. The University then withdrew license from commercial manufacturers to create merchandise that used the Chief Illiniwek logo.
As administrators planned this year’s Homecoming parade, they created a policy that they interpreted was in keeping with the retirement directive. In reviewing that policy, Chancellor Richard Herman has determined that the interpretation was overly broad.
The University values free speech and free expression and considers Homecoming floats, decorations, costumes and related signage all representations of such personal expression.
Therefore, Chancellor Herman has directed the Homecoming Committee to strike the existing policy from the Homecoming float guidelines.
This directive applies to Regulation O: Parade entries may not display Chief Illiniwek logos or other native American imagery. The Homecoming parade has not been authorized to use the licensed image of the Chief. Examples include but are not limited to: T-shirts, official and unofficial Chief symbols, pomming of the Chief symbol on float, costumes & signs.
The University retired the Chief last year with good reason and thousands of my undergrad peers have mobilized to "save" the racist symbol. They'll tell you it's not about preserving racism, that it's about preserving everything the Chief symbolizes for them: loyalty, honor, tradition, blah, blah, blah. You know what I think all of this unfortunately misguided activism is about? Honoring that great drunken frenzy that many of my undergrad peers associate with athletic events. Honoring The Breakfast Club. Honoring flip cup. Things like that...
I'm not knocking the partying. Over the course of my three and a half years here, I myself have actually attend a few social gatherings at which alcohol was served. But come on! You're college students! You're educated (or getting there.) Get your heads out of your asses (or more accurately: get yourselves out of KAM'S), and try to understand why the removal of the Chief was called for.
While you're at it, try mobilizing for something more significant than your right to get drunk with your frat brothers.
11/04/2007
stressed as hell right now
Last year, she gave me this meditation, and I've been trying a lot lately to use it. She's the best.
Metta Bhavana
May I be safe from inner and outer harm and danger.
May I be safe and protected.
May I be free of mental suffering or distress.
May I be happy.
May I be free of physical pain and suffering.
May I be healthy and strong.
May I be able to live in this world happily, peacefully, joyfully, with ease.
(Repeat the above, replacing "I" with the following:)
May a person who invites the pure feeling of unconditional loving kindness, the love that does not depend on getting anything back
May a dear friend...
May someone for whom I feel neither strong like nor dislike...
(To the best of my ability, I wish that) someone with whom I have difficulty may...
May all awakened ones...
May all seekers...
May all in difficult places...
May all celestial beings...
May all humans...
May all animals...
May all beings...
10/31/2007
10/30/2007
a little bit of a rant, my apologies
I love that; so interesting and optimistic.
On my more cynical days, I get a little nervous about how schools are these intensely whack institutes of socialization of which I'm about to be a part. Students raise their hands and wait to be called on; they walk in single-file lines; they write five-paragraph essays; they organize into cliques; the boys get good at math and science; the girls get good at art; everybody learns that abstinence is the coolest; smart students pass; dumb students fail; young minds are filled with knowledge. ...This is what I'm doing with my life?
Finally, and most importantly: whether the no-swearing-rule is whack or not, the student broke it because the student was trying, I bet, to preserve a shred of dignity in a class where he consistently displays signs of embarrassment. He's failed the class twice, on account of the fact (the teacher has explained to us observers and aloud to the student in question in front of his classmates) that he doesn't turn in his homework. In fact, he didn't turn in the assignment I gave him last week. He's demonstrated to me in class, though, that he can do it. I know that he's met my lesson's objective. She knows that he does know the material. Today specifically, we read a short story that he's read before. His participation in the class discussion demonstrated that he was well able to meet the objective for today, probably to the point that he was bored with the material. So when the teacher, frustrated, burst "I'm trying to figure out why he did that [said ass]," I suggested that maybe he was feeling a little contemptuous at having to spend a whole class period repeating information he already knows. Her response? "Well, you know why he's here? Because HE. FAILED. So he needs to get over it." Awesome. Stunning attitude. I'm shocked that you haven't been able to engender this student's respect. NOT.
visit to NOLA
10/25/2007
a little perspective
Dear Friends and Family,
I don't know how many of you have been following the news, but in the past five months there has been a lot of fighting between a religious group, Fatah-Islam, and the Lebanese government in Northern Lebanon. It took place in a Palestinian refugee camp called Nahar alBared (Cold River.) 45,000 Palestinians who lived in the camp were forced to flee their homes. In September, the Lebanese Army defeated Fatah-Islam; it seems that afterward, they burned and looted the camp. About a week and a half ago, the army started letting Palestinian residents back in. They've generally refused journalists and westerners admittance. My mother, father and I got into the camp four days ago. The Lebanese army had destroyed the town. There were no buildings left. Fifth stories sat on the ground where first stories should have been. The houses were still smoking.
The Lebanese Army has set up barbed wire and guards. We went up to the soldiers, and Fayez said my sister was married to his brother, so they let us in. He showed the soldiers his Palestinian identity card and they moved aside the barbed wire for us. A woman patted me down; she has an uncle in the states she wanted to talk about.
We saw a family and the woman shouted at us. They had come back yesterday. I was scared, but she was just upset, she kept saying "Take pictures, document, document this, this is wrong, this is wrong." We climbed the stairs over the rubble. Sometimes the stairs had no wall attached, and we could see out into the town. There were Lebanese soldiers and UN workers with surgeon's masks because the air was bad. No one else was given masks.
We climbed to the fourth floor. There were holes in the wall the size of cars, from the bombs. The walls were black, and we were standing on ash. Ash crunches. My mother and the woman were crying. I went to take a picture of the car-sized holes in the walls. The woman thrust her children at me. "Take a picture," she said. "Take a picture of my dirty children. They must sleep in this." Her children were dirty. The soot covered their faces and their clothes. There was no water to wash the house. There was the end of burnt wall-paper. It was clear the house had been very pretty. It was clear she was middle-class. Everything was black. "This is my house," she said. There was a doll in the closet with its head to the wall. It had no clothes. The closet was burned. We went into the kitchen. Light came through the hole in the wall. We could see the Mediterranean.
There was a broken stove in the kitchen. I stepped over the rubble to open the cupboards. The china was burnt black. The serving-spoons were hung as if to dry above the sink; they were black. I could feel loose stones under my feet. "Look here, look here," the children said. They opened the cupboards to show me more black dishes. They saw I liked dishes. Their mother was crying. We went up to the roof. All around were demolished buildings, and the sea. All around the air was smoking. There was talk the soldiers had bombed two houses today.
We were on the roof and below us was the Lebanese Army. Their flag was supported by sandbags. They were in camouflage and green berets. There was a bridge. On the other side of the bridge, the Lebanese Army was building a road over a cemetery. The ruined tombs were bright spots of blue and green in the dust. There was a bulldozer and some soldiers, building the road over the graves. We looked out to sea. Buildings were still smoldering. The roof was full of bullets. We picket them up; the smaller ones were M-16's: they are made in America. It stank on the roof from the smoke and the dead chickens. All around us were dead chickens. Fayez said a week ago it smelled worse until they removed the dead bodies from under the buildings. I was suddenly glad I had not come a week ago. They say Fatah-Islam (Islamist rebel-fighters) buried all their dead in a mass grave under one of roads. The smoke and the dust were very thick; it was a little hard to breathe. Four months ago, Fayez and his friend were going out to get bread and Lebanese soldiers started shooting at them. His best friend was killed. A UN driver in his UN truck was killed. The army paid someone off so the story about the UN driver would not get out.
We drank tea with Fayez and his neighbor. The old man's house had a door and no wall attached. Fayez went to open the door; it was locked. He called through the empty space where the wall had been, "Open up, Uncle." The old man was in a plastic chair. He got up and unlocked the door for us. We could see all of it through the space the destroyed wall had left. The man's wife apologized for the tea. She had gone to get tomatoes and cucumbers; the Lebanese army had taken them from her at the entrance to the camp. They took everyone's gold and silver. The old man had a brief-case (the lockable kind;) there was a hole ripped through the middle. The old man had a present from his daughter. The army took his present and left the wrapping for him. He said, "This is to make me sad." They do this to make people sad. They use men's nice shirts as toilet-paper.
As we talked, through the bombed-out walls we could see the Lebanese soldiers, sitting on plastic chairs. We walked down the road. They motioned us to go back the way we'd come; they were going to detonate a bomb. We saw it make a thick black mark in the sky, and nose-dive; it was top-heavy, it looked like a caricature of tadpoles you find in children's books. It made a sound. These men are the ones who destroyed this town. Now they sit in plastic chairs and talk to the Palestinians; tell them when it is safe to walk. There is barbed wire around the sections that have not yet been de-mined.
It seems the Lebanese army does not want Palestinians to move back. People have no way to clean out the mess, so they sleep on it. There is no plumbing, no electricity. The army had written slurs along the walls. They have ripped up Qur'ans. Fayez was praying in a mosque when it was bombed. The front half fell away in front of him. The Lebanese army has systematically destroyed every building in the camp. It seems a conscious attempt to destroy this community's will to survive.
My parents and I are still struggling to understand what we saw. We try to compare it to the catastrophes that are most familiar to us; "This looks like an atom bomb hit it." We use what we can.
love, Emily
PS, If you want an explanation of the conflict and Nahar alBared camp, here's a very short one.
Background on the Fighting this Summer
Fatah-Islam is a fundamentalist religious group that came to Nahar alBared from the outside. It is made up of around 150-200 men; they are from Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Lebanon, I was told there were three from Russia. None of the members are from Nahar alBared camp.
In late may of 2007, Fatah-Islam raided a bank in the Lebanese town of Tripoli. I think they also attacked some Lebanese soldiers. In general, Palestinians control the security of their camps. However, in response to the attack, the Lebanese Army entered the camp. Four months of fighting ensued. The first things the Lebanese Army hit were the water and electricity for the camp. This and the fighting forced Palestinian residents to flee; they lived from May until October (most are still living) in crowded conditions in schools and mosques around Tripoli. When they originally fled, they thought it would be only for a few days, and they were forced to go very quickly. For this reason, most did not take their valuables with them.
In September, the Lebanese Army defeated Fatah-Islam. Palestinians were allowed back into the camp starting 10 October. So far it is estimated that 4,000 of the 45,000 residents have come back.
For a good article on Fatah-Islam, go to www.mideastmonitor.org click
on "The Rise of Fatah-Islam" under LEBANON.
Palestinians in Lebanon and the Civil War (very briefly)
In 1948 with the creation of Israel, between 250,000 and 500,000 Palestinians came to Lebanon as refugees who had been evicted from their homes. They were welcomed at first and set up residence in refugee in camps, of which Nahar alBared is one. In general, the Lebanese government is weak, and after the 1967 war it found it hard to control the camps, which have been sites of resistance to the Israeli occupation of Palestine. In 1968, Israel attacked Lebanon's Beirut airport in retaliation for attacks launched from Lebanon's Palestinian camps. In 1968-9, Lebanese forces clashed with Palestinian fighters, who demanded the right to run their own camp security and launch attacks into Israel. Because the Lebanese Army was no match for the Palestinian fighters, it was forced to sign an agreement meeting most of the Palestinian's demands. Maronite Christians opposed the agreement, and fighting broke out between them and Palestinian guerillas on the streets of Beirut. After Jordan drove out Palestinian guerillas from its own country, the guerillas came to Lebanon and started launching attacks on Israel, with little regard for its effect on the local (Shia) population. Tensions led to a civil war in Lebanon which officially started in 1975. Israel subsequently invaded Lebanon (it also supported Christian militias who carried out the infamous 1982 massacre on the Palestinian camps Sabra and Chatila). Israel only withdrew completely from Lebanon in 2000. It was in resistance to Western occupation of Lebanon that Hezbollah (Shi'ia group who went to war with Israel last summer) formed in the 1980's.
Palestinian Rights/Life in Lebanon
For those who have not seen Palestinian refugee camps in Syria and Lebanon, they look like any town, and it is often difficult to tell where a city ends and a camp begins. There are no tents. Most Palestinians live in cement apartment buildings. Before the war these past five months, Nahar alBared had several mosques and a thriving marketplace. It was known for its gold and silver, and of course had schools, doctors, and lawyers as any neighborhood would. The residents of Nahar alBared are very proud of the camp's prosperity; they feel they were an economic threat to the nearby Tripoli, and that is part of the reason the Lebanese Army destroyed the camp.
While Palestinians were at first well-received in Lebanon, over the years Lebanon has implemented several laws that discriminate against Palestinians. The jobs a Palestinian can hold are limited. Palestinians cannot own land outside the camps. The camps themselves have not grown in area, although the Palestinian population has at least doubled since 1948. This leads to overcrowding. Palestinians do not have Lebanese citizenship, nor the rights (like social security) that go with it.
10/21/2007
"Next year I meet the world."
1990: Next year I will MEET THE WORLD!
1991: I start shooting rubber bands.
1993: I ran a race with my dad. [Dad's wearing a t-shirt that says 1994]
2000: 9th birthday, New millenium, went to Boston, started school at Redeemer [... you know, the usual]
Neil put this timeline together when he was ten years old, so what he'd put on his timeline now might make it look radically different. What's important to the Story of Neil might now be different; although you'd probably still mark the first rubber band you shot, right Neil?
I wonder how interesting it might be to look at timelines and play with them as a medium for demonstrating progression. By definition, they're formally linear, so does that mean that the stories they tell must also be linear? Or might the form antagonize the content in interesting ways? It would be kinda cool, I think, to look at timelines in K-12 history textbooks. What's important enough to be included? What must get left out in order to clarify the progression? Maybe I could create a lesson plan that asks my students to timeline out some odd, seemingly unrelated stuff, and then see if by cementing events in a line we can make silly connections across them to tell a story.