Summer Is Over and That's Okay

Getting back to school is difficult. The allure of summer is strong. At the end of summer, I am in mourning for my freedom. I still have stacks of books to read, errands to run, and tons of tasks to accomplish. I am not ready to pick up the pace and leave my leisure.

Yet somehow, I drag myself into school, and set up my classroom. I put posters on the wall, and plan lessons. I go to meetings with colleagues,  and realize I have missed them.

Then the kids arrive. First, it is only the seniors who assist in the theatre classes. Then it is the big freshman orientation program. Finally, it’s the first day. And instead of summer, I am focused on my new students. I am calling their counselors and parents. I am redesigning all the plans I made at the end of the summer because Julie reads at a fifth grade level, and Steven needs will do better with a different topic!

By the end of the first week, I know their names and faces well enough to want to know more. We have exchanged letters and laughs, and we are ready to start the learning in earnest. Summer lingers over the Labor Day weekend, but it no longer has a hold on me. Give me a few months and I will long for winter break, but I am in the honeymoon now, and I want to see what we can learn together.

It is not as if summer is never coming back. Summer has taken a nine-month holiday, and when it returns we will all be different people. Being a teacher means embracing these cycles. Fighting them is a losing battle anyway.

At one of the many meals that sandwich our meetings, another teacher commented that, since the kids are always the same age, so are we. When you work with teenagers, you experience the illusion that time is standing still. I see my older students around town, at social gatherings, and on Facebook. Then I see their younger versions sitting eagerly in the classroom – and it does feel like time has not passed at all. My former students are teachers in our building, and parents in our community. They are better and bigger versions of the children I met many years ago – and so I am.

It is a special spiral. I am not teaching the same children nor the same subject each year. It appears that way, but that is an illusion. New technology, books, or tests are not what change the plans. It is all about the new students in front of me, meeting their needs, and bringing the learning to them. No class, lesson, or child is ever the same from one year (or sometimes from one day) to the next.

That is why this job never gets old. I may lose my hair, eyesight, and waistline, but I will never lose my love for learning with these kids. Summer is over; bring on the school year!

Failing at the Ten Book Challenge

I do not participate in any of the Facebook games. I will not copy and paste a status statement. I don’t spend days listing things. I am not going to use the list to the left to identify characters from Doctor Who, and I have been giving to ALS for many years.

But the challenge to list ten books is very interesting to me. I love hearing about people’s favorite books. I love talking about what I am reading. My kids are embarrassed when, on vacation at a resort, I look at what people around the pool are reading.

Recently a former student and a former colleague invited me to list my ten books. Several other friends have done the same. I loved reading their lists, but I could not make a single list of ten titles. Even when I made smaller lists, they were too long - and they were constantly changing. Each time I looked at this post, I have added or removed a title – or a list.

I made lots of lists! I made lists of young adult novels. I made lists of books written by women. I made lists of books I have taught. I made lists of guilty pleasures. Some were ten titles. Some were four titles, and some were thirty-seven titles.

I settled on four lists. These were my most universal categories. I chose the books based on a simple criteria: which books stick with me. Which do I keep coming back to over and over? Whether I am teaching them, talking about them, or connecting them to my current reading, which have become my “classics” because of their staying power?

Here is my answer as of the moment I pressed the “publish” button. It will change later, and I do not promise not to return to this post and edit again – and again.

The lists are not in any particular order. I knew that if I tried to actually do a first, second, third ranking, I would most likely create a rupture in the time-space-book continuum.

So here are four lists of ten works that are important to me: 

Ten science fiction books: 

Stranger in a  Strange Land by Robert Heinlein

Welcome to the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. 

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guinn

Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card

Calculating God by Robert Sawyer

Hyperion by Dan Simmons

A Canticle for Lebowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr. 

1984 by George Orwell

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

I Sing the Body Electric by Ray Bradbury

Ten plays: 

Hamlet by William Shakespeare 

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

The Good Person of Szechwan by Bertold Brecht

It is So, If You Think So by Luigi Pirandello 

No Exit by Jean Paul Sartre 

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard

‘Night Mother by Marsha Norman  

All My Sons by Arthur Miller 

Major Barbara by George Bernard Shaw

The Madwomen on Challiot by Jean Giraudoux

Ten books that are not science fiction or plays: 

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safron Foer

The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracey Kidder

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara 

The Trial by Franz Kafka

On Writing by Stephen King

The Nurture Assumption by Judith Rich Harris

Ten books I have read in the last few years that could likely become my new classics in time:

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

Redshirts by John Scalzi

Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughhart

Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

WWW.Watch by Robert Sawyer

Little Brother by Corey Doctorow

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahari

Crazy U: One Dad’s Crash Course in Getting his Kid into College by Andrew Ferguson

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

I could continue, but I will stop here. I will make more lists, and I will keep reading. My to-read stack is tall and getting taller. A reader’s list is never done!

News of the Worldcon

In August, my son and I traveled to London to attend the 75^th annual World Science Fiction Convention, known as Worldcon. Many of my friends and family know that I attend “cons” but do not really understand what happens there. Worldcon is the perfect opportunity to talk about the wonderful world of science fiction fan conventions!

Worldcon is a not-for-profit, fan run, celebration of science fiction, fantasy, and related genres. Although it has a similar focus as Comicon, Wizards’ World, and other media focused  events, Worldcon is run by fans for fans. Comicon and its siblings are designed to promote specific products and profit from attendees; they are really “shows” where media stars talk, show film clips, and promote their movies and products. Comicon attracts over 130,000 people; this year’s Worldcon broke records with around 8000 people. Worldcon focuses as much or more on literature, science, music, gaming, costuming, and other areas of interest to the fan community as it does on television, movies, and comics. For a more detailed discussion of Worldcon and Comicon, look at this article from the wonderful fanzine SF Signal.

The professional events cater to consumers, and appear to attract large numbers of casual fans, who are not connected to each other in any other way than by their attendance. Worldcon, and many regional conventions, are designed to support and sustain a worldwide fan community, often referred to as “fandom.”

Fandom, especially at Worldcon, is a diverse and inclusive group. I remember the first time I traveled alone to a convention. I was shocked at how strangers talked to each other. I was invited to sit down at a table at an event, and people made me feel welcome and included.

At Worldcon, we had fans of all flavors. It was an international gathering. Formal panel discussions actively examined the inclusion of women, people of color, and lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender/queer and questioning people in all aspects of the science fiction and fantasy world. The convention was purposefully accessible to people with mobility and other challenges. Did the convention completely represent the diversity of the city (and world) around it: no. However, this is a community that is constantly striving  to be inclusive.

The participants at Worldcon nominate and vote for the year’s best science fiction and fantasy works: the Hugo Awards. Named for science fiction pioneer, Hugo Gernsback, who founded Amazing Stories magazine, these awards honor the best writing (novels, short stories, etc.), dramatic presentations (movies, television shows, and other media forms), fanzines, podcasts, editors, artists and several other categories of science fiction and fantasy work. On Sunday night, the Hugos are science fiction’s Oscars! Next time you are in a bookstore, look for books that brag, “Hugo Winner” “ Hugo winning author” or “Hugo nominated.”

Worldcon is a kind of homecoming and reunion. It is filled with thoughtful and passionate people who care about ideas, as well as images. While Comicon’s panels are usually presentations by major money making franchises, the Worldcon panels also explore far more heady issues dealing with literature, ethics, and equality. Worldcon panelists are writers, academics, editors, bloggers, publishers, and people who have gained fame within the fan community for their devotion and dedication to creating events like Worldcon.

I must acknowledge the remarkable and phenomenal work of the some of those people: the convention committee, the unpaid group of people who organize Worldcon and other conventions. I have attended conventions for more than thirty years, and only recently begun to be involved back stage. Yet, it should be clear to even the first time convention attendee that organizing Worldcon or any convention is an enormous undertaking. Comicon has a paid staff and is always in San Diego. Worldcon moves every year and committees have only two years to plan. I am forever grateful and in awe of these conrunners, as they are called.

Unlike many professionally run conventions, Worldcon (and most regional conventions like Chicago’s Capricon and Windycon), had far more than panel discussions to offer. This year’s Worldcon had an entire social area called the fan village, which had tents (yes, real tents) run by groups who were bidding to run future Worldcons, fan societies and other groups ; there was a tent exclusively for teens, areas with activities for small children, areas with games and activities for grown ups, and places to socialize and hang out. There was even a bar!

Worldcon had a dealers area selling all sorts of science fiction stuff: t-shirts, jewelry, toys, and branded products, but there are also lots of books! There were exhibits and a full art show that culminated in an art auction.

Authors read from their books and signed them. Films, television shows, and shorts were screened. Live plays were performed. This year, there was a volunteer Worldcon philharmonic that gave a concert. Costumes were celebrated at a Masquerade, which was followed by a dance!

I could not begin capture the Worldcon experience in a short (or even longer) piece like this. Conventions like this are special celebrations. They are fandom gatherings and labors of love.

Use Me

As I prepare for classes, one assignment has me stymied. As an introductory activity, and a means of preparing for writing college essays, I asking my Senior English students to write “User Guides” to themselves. I was introduced to the assignment in an article on an educational blogs.

The assignment has both a creative, and an expository side. It will let me get to know them, and it is directly applicable to the type of writing needed for college essays. It seems fair that one of the samples I show them is a user guide to their teacher.

I sat down with the user guide from the teacher who authored the article and several other samples. I began by using her format, but it didn’t work for me. Even though she was also an English teacher, it was clear that the structure was as powerful as the actual content.  

I looked at “real” user guides and imitated them. I tried several formats, and that is when I hit the wall. I can’t say everything. What are the key ideas? What do I want kids to know about me in order to best interact with me? I made a list, but the items felt trivial. I was more focused on my idiosyncrasies, hobbies, and personality than the real issues.

That got me thinking: what is the real function of a teacher? What is my “purpose?” To teach, of course! Duh! But what does that mean? What are my primary functions in class?

Certainly, my main purpose in each of my classes is to teach students a clearly defined set of skills. They need to be competent as readers, writers, speakers, listeners, and thinkers. It is my goal that, as students master these skills, they will become more effective and creative communicators.

But there is more. I’d love to engender a love of literature. I want them to soak up narrative, if not in the written form, then on screen or stage or somewhere else. I’d like them to approach story with curiosity and thoughtfulness.

Of course, every teacher is part entertainer, too. Not everything we do will be fun, but I’d like our time together to be enjoyable. I am also part substitute parent. I will worry if they are ill, encourage them to dress warmly, and remind them to use their manners.

Finally, I am still learning. So I am a student as well. Especially as our classroom becomes more connected to the Internet, I am much more guide than answer-man.

In my classroom, I have four classroom values: our time is valuable and should be well used, everyone must participate, we should affirm and respect each other, and my prime value: we are all responsible for our own learning. Do I need to repeat these? I decided that my user guide was a complementary document to my classroom procedures and I didn’t want it to overlap much.

So how would a student “use” me? Students often say they had me in class, although only rarely do I feel “had.” However, there are times when I have felt used.

I finally forced myself to sit down and write. I wrote about my teacher functions, but also about the rest of my life: I am a member of a family, connected to my local, religious, and fan communities. I have a set of values that goes well beyond any single role or the simplistic statements on the wall.

Each time I look at my “user guide,” I change something. I will probably keep making revisions until the kids see it – and then maybe even more after I see their guides.

If the assignment forced me to reflect like this, I can only hope that it will have half that effect on my students. I am eager to meet them, study with them, and have a wonderful year together.

Thinking about Anne Frank and Israel

Seventy years ago yesterday, Anne Frank wrote her last entry in her diary. Much has been written about her; she is the emissary of the Holocaust to millions. The line from her diary that stands out to me is her affirmation that, “in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.”

She goes on to say, “I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again. “ 

Then my thoughts turn to the current conflict in the Middle East. Now, my reader’s ears perk up. “Will he be pro-Israel? Will he be sympathetic to the Palestinians? Will he fall into the “there is blame on both sides” trap? Or will he, as Amos Oz did in a recent interview, try to analogize the situation to a neighbor shooting at your children with a baby in his lap?”

He is going to do none of these things.

I do not see how my views on this situation have an effect. I feel powerless. This post will not sway any opinions that are not already in place. In fact, recent research has disappointingly shown that people are more likely to stick with their misguided opinions even in the face of strong information to the contrary.

So it is not my goal to change your mind about Israel or the current conflict. Unless you are a leader in the current conflict, I am not sure that your opinion (or mine) is going to make much of a difference. So I am not going there.

Like Anne Frank’s story, the events in the Middle East affect me emotionally, intellectually, and personally. But I am not in the line of fire. My children are not in danger. I don’t get a vote. This horrible war is much more than a topic for Internet trolling and social small talk.

“So it doesn’t matter? So we should not pay attention?” says that reader voice. No. It matters. It is very important. As a person of conscience who values my religious identity (and my connection to Israel), and as someone who abhors any violent solution to a problem, this conflict cannot be ignored.

I can give money to organizations that will fund something. I can write letters to lawmakers and media outlets. And of course, that makes a little difference. But it will not bring about peace. I can quarterback and back with my quarters from a safe and comfortable armchair.

Simply put: my actions are not going to change the course of events. Only in my fantasies could I stop the Israelis and the Palestinians from heading down this ever more tragic path.

Like Anne Frank, I still believe that the overwhelming majority of people in the world, and in the Middle East, are good at heart. Like Anne Frank, I am optimistic about the future. But I do not look up the heavens and think it will just turn out all right. “Peace and tranquility” do not return by accident or divine intervention. Human beings make choices. That is what this is about. This about the power of people’s decisions.

My decisions have power. Not in Israel, but here. The horrible conditions of the Palestinians did not suddenly appear. The crisis was not born today. It was born of the countless decisions by many people. They may not have been aware of how their choices, like the ancient sediment and stone around them, can build up, stratify, and create canyons and mountains that are not easily crossed or moved.   

And their decisions still count. No path is fixed. The road can go many ways.

Despite her fate, Anne Frank’s message continues to move millions. Her words, her story, and her choices continue to have power. So do our decisions. For now, and for the future.

Treating the Symptoms and Hurting the Children

Our lawmakers struggle with many issues. On the news, there are debates about countless issues that are unarguably important.  In private conversations, on social media, and over coffee and drinks, we complain and play armchair president. If only they did this. How could they do that? The answer is so clear, why can’t others see it?

The more I listen, the more I come to one conclusion: underlying almost all of our country’s difficulties is one issue that we want to avoid. Perhaps because it is too large or it is so wrapped up with key American values, we are willing to focus on the symptoms and don’t face the disease.

Whether you love or hate the new affordable healthcare act, often called “Obamacare,” we will all agree that there were and still are issues with the way we structure healthcare. The cost is problematic for almost everyone. Access to healthcare is another piece of this problem. If many in our society do not get adequate healthcare, there are ramifications for all of us. Many will argue with the solution, but can you argue that there is a problem?

We are testing our students to death. Our means of solving a supposed crisis in education is to invent more achievement vehicles. We wring our hands about teacher accountability, tenure, standards, our world standing, and other issues. These are important concerns. However, consistently some schools succeed and others struggle. We know why. It is highly predictable.

We talk about guns, but only some of us face daily violence in our streets and neighborhoods. Tougher laws and penalties, but not stricter gun regulations, have negligible effects. We turn to our criminal justice system, pass unforgiving laws, and put more and more people in prison. In some places, everyone knows a person behind bars. In other places, it is merely a topic of theoretical speculation.

Why do we worry about illegal immigrants coming into our country? They certainly use our schools, jails, and appear in our emergency rooms and doctors’ offices. Is that the real reason? We employ them to do tasks that we either don’t want to do or which we can pay an illegal wage for them to do. They are second-class non-citizens.

An unwanted pregnancy is a difficult problem. However, it is not the same problem for everyone. For some, it is a medical issue. For others, it is a moral question. For some, it is a choice, and for others, it is another mouth to feed. We can argue about abortion rights or wrongs, but is there anyone who would want children to go hungry?

Should these children be blamed for their parents’ situations? What happens when they go to school? What happens when they get sick? Might they be angry at the cards they have been unfairly dealt? What opportunities will they have? Is the system rigged against them?

Underneath most of the problems that plague us is the same issue: poverty. It is the problem we refuse to face. Americans are all about self-reliance. We begrudge drowning people even a simple life preserver. For many, the poor live far away in both distance and mind. They are theoretical and hypothetical; a subject of debate and discussion more than real people struggling to take care of their children.

Yet, most of the items on our public agenda are closely connected to poverty. Why are avoiding that fact? By addressing poverty, we would also address healthcare, education, immigration, violence, abortion, and many other social issues. But we don’t do that.

It is not an easy task, but we need to stop the bickering, dickering, and delaying. We need to say to our legislators: Take care of the children, and end poverty.

That is the key: Take care of the children, and end poverty. The rest is commentary.

The Push and Pull of Parenting

I have to fight the desire to keep my family in the house and by my side all the time. While the rational side of me knows that my children must be allowed to drive the car, socialize with their friends, and travel overseas, the irrational side of me keeps asking, “what if…?” That irrational side thinks that I must be near them or the horrible “what if” scenarios might come true.

It was wonderful to see my son after he returned from a three-week trip to France. I  missed him. I hadn’t worried much, but now that he was back, I was keenly aware of avoided peril.  After we got home from the airport, he came into my room, where I was reading, and sat down next to me. Soon, since he had been on a plane all day and was seven hours ahead of us, he fell asleep on me. My teenager hasn’t fallen asleep on me since he was a toddler, but there we were.

I didn’t wake him. I didn’t want to. I had been anticipating his return, but now I was even more aware of his vulnerability and frailty. For those few minutes, I wanted to keep him a sleeping child by my side forever. For a little while, I savored being his protector.

But it is an illusion. It is a beautiful illusion that fills me with a joy so powerful, I feel as though I may burst. Yet even as I am aware of my desire to wrap my child in my arms and hold him there forever, I know that doesn’t stop bad things from happening.  I know that I cannot protect him, even as he sleeps by my side. I know that pain and problems are inevitable – and important, and he will not be a fully mature person until he is able to cope with them.

And I don’t want to face that. I want to believe that I have the power to keep my sleeping child from ever confronting the many issues that would break our hearts. He is dreaming, and I am fighting my desire to take up residence in a dream world.

We can talk about resilience. We can extol the virtues of failure and freedom. Yet I would wager that every parent has consciously fought the overprotecting instinct. It is an important and difficult battle. My child may be driving the car, shopping for colleges, and shaving his chin, but I still want to believe that I am his barrier from all that might hurt him. I never have been. I never will be. But I want to be.

I fully understand why some parents call too often, do too much, and hover like the cliché helicopter.

That is the push and pull of parenting. I don’t want to back so far away that I become a distant figure. I don’t want to wrap him in layers of protection so that he can’t feel anything. I don’t want to smother and direct and therefore rob him of independence and agency.

Yet, I don’t want to feel the pain of his pain. Ultimately, I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to let either of us do anything that would separate us. Yet, we are separate. He will go to Europe. He will go to college. He will get in the car and drive away.

And I will be anxiously awaiting his return.