Last night, Shea sat Tracy and I down and informed us that we were in writing class and she was going to be our writing teacher. We were each given a piece of paper and a colored pencil to work with. The assignment? Write down the story she was going to tell us. Here's a copy of my "assignment":
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Cinderella and then another lady came again and she was Sleeping Beauty. They walked together. Then, they came to a colored path and followed it. At the end of the path was beautiful flowers. They picked them.
Suddenly, a mean witch came with her witch powers. Suddenly a storm came and washed the mean witch away. They went home and went to bed and the other princesses came. The princesses got breakfast for Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella. And then, a girl named Shea knocked on the door. She brought pie for them to eat with their breakfast.
The End."
It was awesome watching Shea put the whole thing together. The only thing we asked her was, "What happened next?" She came up with it all on her own and she was so proud of herself when mommy and I each showed her our handwritten paragraphs. She's growing up too fast.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
When It Rains, It Pours
The last couple of days have left me disoriented and amazed at the variety of experiences my life provides. Here's a small list from the last couple of days.
1. My mom tells me on the phone that she was bringing Shea home when she suddenly bursts out, "Noni, did you know that Jesus has risen?" Ah, Catholic school.
2. I'm on my way home from teaching my night class when a small white car comes tearing out of a side street as I'm passing through an intersection. A cop is in hot pursuit. After they pass, I continue on. I don't make it 30 feet before I have to pull over for a second cop. Five more feet after they pass, another cop. This trend continues until I've been passed by 12 patrolmen. I finally get to continue down the road uninterrupted when I arrive at a four way stop. Sure as shit, here comes the white car. I stay parked at the four way stop. The white car passes me, followed by 12 patrolmen. They block off the intersection before I can pass through. Instead of being a mile away from home, I have to take a 3 mile detour. I have yet to hear a news story about the incident. I'm beginning to wonder.
3. When I arrive home after the run-in with high speed chases, I find that the wind has blown over two sections of my back fence. My wife tells me that she let the dog out before discovering the fence. When she discovered the fence an hour later, the dog is gone. This is especially frightening because our dog is dog-on-dog aggressive and quick to start a fight. When she finds out, she rushes out of the house to look for the dog. Shea panics at her absence and begins to have a melt down. By the time my winded and frazzled wife returns home, she discovers a toddler in the middle of a meltdown. The story comes out in bits and pieces, but I feel for my wife, who happens to be suffering from a cold.
4. My daughter is also sick. When I get home, I find a child who is running a slight fever, suffering from a persistent cough that won't allow her uninterrupted sleep, and has developed pink eye. She is groggy and temperamental, which is to be understood. I have to cancel classes the following day to stay home and take care of her. The day is filled with coughing fits that lead to vomiting. I wind up washing two beds worth of bedding, a load of puke-filled towels, and the sofa throw blankets. I've been a bartender for years but this exceeded even my puke limits. In the process, she bursts a blood vessel in one of her eyes. With the pink eye, she sports the eyes of a comic book demon.
5. I had to work late on Valentine's night (the night of the chase, fence, and illness) and so Tracy and I didn't get the chance to celebrate of traditional Valentine's feast. We knew this was going to happen, so we planned to celebrate on Tuesday. After a day filled with puke, pink eye, doctor's visits, and a sick child, I set about making dinner for the family. Lobster and steak. Tracy and I have the same thing every year. After grilling the lobster tails and searing the steaks, we sit down to our meal. It's kind of nice, minus Shea launching her germs across the table in series after series of dry, racking coughs. The roses I bought for Tracy sit at the end of the table and we're able to share a meal.
It's been a day. It's been a day that feels like a series of days. I've alternated between happiness, worry, concern, stress, and anger. My life continues to offer me experience after experience. I think the key to all of this is to simply pay attention. To slow down and take in each of these moments individually. If you have the time, write it down. This blog post is going to be fun to revisit with Tracy in five years. We'll look back, laugh, and wonder at the fact that all of those things happened in the same day.
1. My mom tells me on the phone that she was bringing Shea home when she suddenly bursts out, "Noni, did you know that Jesus has risen?" Ah, Catholic school.
2. I'm on my way home from teaching my night class when a small white car comes tearing out of a side street as I'm passing through an intersection. A cop is in hot pursuit. After they pass, I continue on. I don't make it 30 feet before I have to pull over for a second cop. Five more feet after they pass, another cop. This trend continues until I've been passed by 12 patrolmen. I finally get to continue down the road uninterrupted when I arrive at a four way stop. Sure as shit, here comes the white car. I stay parked at the four way stop. The white car passes me, followed by 12 patrolmen. They block off the intersection before I can pass through. Instead of being a mile away from home, I have to take a 3 mile detour. I have yet to hear a news story about the incident. I'm beginning to wonder.
3. When I arrive home after the run-in with high speed chases, I find that the wind has blown over two sections of my back fence. My wife tells me that she let the dog out before discovering the fence. When she discovered the fence an hour later, the dog is gone. This is especially frightening because our dog is dog-on-dog aggressive and quick to start a fight. When she finds out, she rushes out of the house to look for the dog. Shea panics at her absence and begins to have a melt down. By the time my winded and frazzled wife returns home, she discovers a toddler in the middle of a meltdown. The story comes out in bits and pieces, but I feel for my wife, who happens to be suffering from a cold.
4. My daughter is also sick. When I get home, I find a child who is running a slight fever, suffering from a persistent cough that won't allow her uninterrupted sleep, and has developed pink eye. She is groggy and temperamental, which is to be understood. I have to cancel classes the following day to stay home and take care of her. The day is filled with coughing fits that lead to vomiting. I wind up washing two beds worth of bedding, a load of puke-filled towels, and the sofa throw blankets. I've been a bartender for years but this exceeded even my puke limits. In the process, she bursts a blood vessel in one of her eyes. With the pink eye, she sports the eyes of a comic book demon.
5. I had to work late on Valentine's night (the night of the chase, fence, and illness) and so Tracy and I didn't get the chance to celebrate of traditional Valentine's feast. We knew this was going to happen, so we planned to celebrate on Tuesday. After a day filled with puke, pink eye, doctor's visits, and a sick child, I set about making dinner for the family. Lobster and steak. Tracy and I have the same thing every year. After grilling the lobster tails and searing the steaks, we sit down to our meal. It's kind of nice, minus Shea launching her germs across the table in series after series of dry, racking coughs. The roses I bought for Tracy sit at the end of the table and we're able to share a meal.
It's been a day. It's been a day that feels like a series of days. I've alternated between happiness, worry, concern, stress, and anger. My life continues to offer me experience after experience. I think the key to all of this is to simply pay attention. To slow down and take in each of these moments individually. If you have the time, write it down. This blog post is going to be fun to revisit with Tracy in five years. We'll look back, laugh, and wonder at the fact that all of those things happened in the same day.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Comics?
What are comics?
This is the question I posed to my class on Wednesday afternoon. It was the second day of my Graphic Novel as Literature class and I wanted the class to try and get a firm grasp on what the heck it was they were looking at and what the controversies are surrounding the medium.
I had them break up into groups of three or four and work on defining the medium. I asked them to consider the physical object (what physical properties must comics have?), the content (words, no words, images, story, genre stories?), etc. They all wound up with definitions that were similar, but each with a critical variation.
Then, I passed out a stack of comic books, a handout with a series of images on them, and asked them to determine which of the objects were comics and which were not. I got the basis of this idea from Charles Hatfield from his essay, "Defining Comics in the Classroom; Or, The Pros and Cons of Unfixability" from Teaching The Graphic Novel located here.
The handout consisted of a series of paintings called "A Harlot's Progress" by William Hogarth found here. The idea that comics are sequential art includes these paintings as comics. Those whose definition included the necessity of text couldn't define these as comics. Those who said comics must be printed also had to exclude these.
The next example came from airplane instructions located here. For many, this was comics. But, there were some who included "for the purpose to entertain" in their definitions. This excluded the airplane instructions because their purpose was "to inform."
My next examples were kind of a trick question. I included a Dick Tracy comic strip and a Family Circus cartoon. The Dick Tracy strip was a sequence of art, but the Family Circus cartoon was a single image. This threw them. Half the class said yes, half the class said no, which resulted in an interesting conversation about the difference between cartoon art and comics art.
The final image I gave them was a photo of Trajan's column. It is located here. The column is 98 feet high and is made of 20 marble drums. Each drum has a frieze, or a decorative horizontal band, that winds around and up the tower that depicts Roman war scenes. The frieze measures out at around 625 feet long and tells a story. I ask them if this is comics. Many struggled under the weight of this one, except the group who had the provision that it must be printed or that it must include text. There was something about the column that struck them as being quite similar in intent to comics and they wanted to include it but were unsure how. If I ever make it to Rome, I know I'm going to have to visit this lovely work.
Overall, this was a great exercise and I heard a couple of the students leaving class say that they felt like they were leaving a philosophy class. I'll take that as a compliment as I always loved philosophy class.
It just goes to show that we all have a lot of assumptions about things we think we know well and understand thoroughly. Overall, a fun day in class and one I think I will repeat.
This is the question I posed to my class on Wednesday afternoon. It was the second day of my Graphic Novel as Literature class and I wanted the class to try and get a firm grasp on what the heck it was they were looking at and what the controversies are surrounding the medium.
I had them break up into groups of three or four and work on defining the medium. I asked them to consider the physical object (what physical properties must comics have?), the content (words, no words, images, story, genre stories?), etc. They all wound up with definitions that were similar, but each with a critical variation.
Then, I passed out a stack of comic books, a handout with a series of images on them, and asked them to determine which of the objects were comics and which were not. I got the basis of this idea from Charles Hatfield from his essay, "Defining Comics in the Classroom; Or, The Pros and Cons of Unfixability" from Teaching The Graphic Novel located here.
The handout consisted of a series of paintings called "A Harlot's Progress" by William Hogarth found here. The idea that comics are sequential art includes these paintings as comics. Those whose definition included the necessity of text couldn't define these as comics. Those who said comics must be printed also had to exclude these.
The next example came from airplane instructions located here. For many, this was comics. But, there were some who included "for the purpose to entertain" in their definitions. This excluded the airplane instructions because their purpose was "to inform."
My next examples were kind of a trick question. I included a Dick Tracy comic strip and a Family Circus cartoon. The Dick Tracy strip was a sequence of art, but the Family Circus cartoon was a single image. This threw them. Half the class said yes, half the class said no, which resulted in an interesting conversation about the difference between cartoon art and comics art.
The final image I gave them was a photo of Trajan's column. It is located here. The column is 98 feet high and is made of 20 marble drums. Each drum has a frieze, or a decorative horizontal band, that winds around and up the tower that depicts Roman war scenes. The frieze measures out at around 625 feet long and tells a story. I ask them if this is comics. Many struggled under the weight of this one, except the group who had the provision that it must be printed or that it must include text. There was something about the column that struck them as being quite similar in intent to comics and they wanted to include it but were unsure how. If I ever make it to Rome, I know I'm going to have to visit this lovely work.
Overall, this was a great exercise and I heard a couple of the students leaving class say that they felt like they were leaving a philosophy class. I'll take that as a compliment as I always loved philosophy class.
It just goes to show that we all have a lot of assumptions about things we think we know well and understand thoroughly. Overall, a fun day in class and one I think I will repeat.
Did You Know?
For two of my writing classes, I have to give my students a final in-class essay. They must pass this test or flunk the entire course, no matter what their grade was throughout the rest of the term. In order to prepare them for this challenge, I give two in-class practice essays. I'm elbow deep in grading those responses now and I wanted to share something with you that I've learned as a result of reading their responses.
The prompt was:
You are currently enrolled in college as a student. Why? What do you hope to gain in terms of education and intelligence? What is the point of book learning? Write an essay where you validate your reason for going to school with three supporting arguments in favor of book learning.
Most of the responses I've received have to do with better paying jobs (which isn't a surprise, I would have written the same thing in undergrad), but what I find startling is that alongside these claims of higher education ensuring a better job is that these jobs DON'T involve work. Did you know that people who have college degrees basically sit on their butts and collect giant paychecks? I didn't. I'm being facetious about it, but it scares me a bit when I think about the level of expectation my students have for what their degree means.
I plan on returning to the classroom on Tuesday and having a little chat about what their expectations are in terms of the jobs they will get outside of college. I want to warn them that there are hordes of college graduates out there that don't have jobs. I want to warn them that there are many college educated people who are serving tables, working as caretakers for the elderly, moving furniture, and any number of other low paying professions. I feel like these students believe that the college diploma is a "golden ticket" ala Willy Wonka and that the life of a college graduate is easy street.
I'll try not to play the pity card and tell them my own story of having TWO degrees and still having to piece together part time work, barely getting benefits, and still tending bar in order to make ends meet. It's not that I want to be the cynic in the room, but I want them to know what they are getting into, especially if they are taking federal money and working their way into high levels of debt. Wish me luck.
The prompt was:
You are currently enrolled in college as a student. Why? What do you hope to gain in terms of education and intelligence? What is the point of book learning? Write an essay where you validate your reason for going to school with three supporting arguments in favor of book learning.
Most of the responses I've received have to do with better paying jobs (which isn't a surprise, I would have written the same thing in undergrad), but what I find startling is that alongside these claims of higher education ensuring a better job is that these jobs DON'T involve work. Did you know that people who have college degrees basically sit on their butts and collect giant paychecks? I didn't. I'm being facetious about it, but it scares me a bit when I think about the level of expectation my students have for what their degree means.
I plan on returning to the classroom on Tuesday and having a little chat about what their expectations are in terms of the jobs they will get outside of college. I want to warn them that there are hordes of college graduates out there that don't have jobs. I want to warn them that there are many college educated people who are serving tables, working as caretakers for the elderly, moving furniture, and any number of other low paying professions. I feel like these students believe that the college diploma is a "golden ticket" ala Willy Wonka and that the life of a college graduate is easy street.
I'll try not to play the pity card and tell them my own story of having TWO degrees and still having to piece together part time work, barely getting benefits, and still tending bar in order to make ends meet. It's not that I want to be the cynic in the room, but I want them to know what they are getting into, especially if they are taking federal money and working their way into high levels of debt. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Something My Mother Said...
I can't remember when the conversation took place, but I remember it vividly. I was having one of those conversations with my mom that ranges from here to there, a sign that we're really connecting, when she turns to me and says, "Sometimes I don't recognize the woman in the mirror. I walk through my days and I feel like I'm still 18, but then I look in the mirror and that's not true."
It's after midnight and the date has officially rolled over to January 27th. I'm 35. In so many ways, I feel like I'm 18. I hear the ramble of my own thoughts and I don't feel different from that kid. I still think about writing, about art, about love as an ideal, etc. Yet, there are so many contours to my life that don't resemble a life lived at 18.
This gets me to thinking if I would want to return to that life. There are many men who go through midlife crises and try to recapture their youth through sports cars, younger women, hard partying, etc. That doesn't really sound appealing to me at all. My life has grown on me, become fungal and spread to all the areas of my heart. Sure, there are challenges. There are days where I would love to cast off all the burdens of responsibility, of being a husband, a father. These are the moments where I reflect on my current situation.
My dog has been peeing on the rug. We've had health issues with Shea. Money is tight. Careers are uncertain. Relationships are challenging. BUT...Shea is happy. Tracy loves me. I love Tracy. My family supports me. I'm publishing. My dog falls asleep with her head in my lap as I read student papers. When I come home, my daughter says, "I missed you." As I work in the kitchen, Tracy scratches my back for a prolonged period of time, just to be close, just to reassure me, to show me she loves me (which as a writer I appreciate the value of showing and not telling).
So, I feel like I'm 18 inside my head. I'm 35 in body. Would I trade? I don't think so.
***For some reason this post didn't go out on the 27th. I thought it worth posting, so here it is.
It's after midnight and the date has officially rolled over to January 27th. I'm 35. In so many ways, I feel like I'm 18. I hear the ramble of my own thoughts and I don't feel different from that kid. I still think about writing, about art, about love as an ideal, etc. Yet, there are so many contours to my life that don't resemble a life lived at 18.
This gets me to thinking if I would want to return to that life. There are many men who go through midlife crises and try to recapture their youth through sports cars, younger women, hard partying, etc. That doesn't really sound appealing to me at all. My life has grown on me, become fungal and spread to all the areas of my heart. Sure, there are challenges. There are days where I would love to cast off all the burdens of responsibility, of being a husband, a father. These are the moments where I reflect on my current situation.
My dog has been peeing on the rug. We've had health issues with Shea. Money is tight. Careers are uncertain. Relationships are challenging. BUT...Shea is happy. Tracy loves me. I love Tracy. My family supports me. I'm publishing. My dog falls asleep with her head in my lap as I read student papers. When I come home, my daughter says, "I missed you." As I work in the kitchen, Tracy scratches my back for a prolonged period of time, just to be close, just to reassure me, to show me she loves me (which as a writer I appreciate the value of showing and not telling).
So, I feel like I'm 18 inside my head. I'm 35 in body. Would I trade? I don't think so.
***For some reason this post didn't go out on the 27th. I thought it worth posting, so here it is.
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