High School Newspaper... Obsolete??

The Rocky Mountain News closed this week and it has made me think about things. Bud (the teacher) posted a very nice farewell video on his blog here. I found that it was nice to live in a two-paper town. There aren't many two paper towns anymore, and since we have every nationally recognized sport has a team in Denver, it seemed only right to have at least two papers to cover them all.

In the same vein I have been thinking a lot about our own high school newspaper, which I have advised for the last three years and which I am quitting next year. It is a thankless job. I end up herding cats and trying to make high school students understand the value of reporting a good story. At the same time I have to teach them layout, selling ads, editing, etc. They are overwhelmed with all my badgering and then they see the fruits of their labor scattered through the hallways and in the trash bins. With each issue they lose a little more of the tenuous "His Girl Friday" gumption they came into newspaper with.

And we just don't get very much support. It is like there is a rule somewhere that schools have to have sports teams, a yearbook, functional bathrooms and a newspaper. No reason why, it just has to have one. But there has never been any standards, any requirements or any mission for the newspaper as it exists. I have asked and pleaded with so many other teachers, not just English teachers to take up the mantle next year. No one wants it which is so disheartening.

I have had many hard talks with Sydney, the one returning senior next year. She looks at me on the verge of tears when I talk to her about what it will be like or what it could be like. She is not an idealist, but she doesn't want newspaper to just disappear. I don't either. But I don't want to see the students compromise good writing for fluff, or see them over-sensationalize news in order to get higher readership. All that said--I am not a layout teacher, I am not technologically savvy enough to put the whole thing online, I am so tired of scraping money together and I am really tired of being the last person to see and send off a newspaper that the students should have total ownership over.

A couple years ago I went to the "seminar" for newspaper advisers. I was new and looking forward to the challenge of taking on a new class. I gained nothing from those three days but how to forget my other classes and other professional obligations and devote all my time and energy and effort to a class that isn't assessed by CSAP. It was like a secret society of teachers who had lost their minds. None of those advisers convinced me that newspaper is valuable or enriching to students. They only managed to convince me that it had to stay alive and young teachers like me were just the people to do it.

Do students need a voice? Yes. Should it be a student-run publication? Yes. WHAT SHOULD THAT LOOK LIKE??? This, my dear friends, is the million-dollar question. In three years I haven't figured it out and now I am done, but that doesn't mean I have stopped caring about it. What do you think? Is print media on its way out? Why should high school students have a newspaper? Who should teach it? How should it be supported?

This American Life...

I have loved This American Life ever since I heard David Sedaris recite a very strange Christmas story about farm animals. I don't know what it is, but it sucks me in, holds me down, and like a deer in the headlights, I am frozen in time. I have to confess I am a little behind on the podcasts because I haven't had an hour to sit and listen while staring into space.

But last night I was hypnotized by the show. I rented the Tudors, season 2, and after the last episode (Anne Boleyn gets the ax... hope I didn't give anything away) I scanned the special features for good extras. There it was... a preview episode of This American Life, the TV version. I had to peek. I had seen a preview of the first season on another disc, probably the Tudors season 1. After watching that sneak peek, I immediately put it on my Netflix queue. Lately it has been stuck behind Battlestar Galactica and Dexter (priorities, people). The peek was about this man who sets up tableaux of Biblical scenes and then paints them. The guy who played Jesus was awesome, dealing with his own issues around religion, having a girlfriend and maintaining an appropriately long beard. It was funny and weird and just like the radio show, I was hooked in.

The episode I watched last night was even better. It was all about escaping. The story it featured was about this 27 year-old man, Mike Phillips who is confined to a wheelchair and uses a computer to speak and write and maintain an awesome blog. I was so drawn into his story. How he met his girlfriend, why he wants his ceiling painted black and who he would want to be his voice (Johnny Depp, by the way). This kid is far from disabled. He is cogent, aware and fascinatingly real; it just takes him three minutes to communicate one sentence.

The way Ira Glass told his story is just so wonderful. This American Life is all about story; something that may seem mundane or removed suddenly becomes close. Watching that last night made me a) move the first season up to first place in my queue, and b) consider the way I tell a story. I think of that great scene in "Out of Africa" where Meryl Streep's character sits down and tells an epic story after Robert Redford provides the first line. I wish I could do that. Where do I get stuck telling my story? What about you? What is your story and do you feel like you tell it well?

I am a teacher, and I kill reading and writing

I have been teaching for nine years. That seems like a long time to me. And all the requisite things that prove I am a teacher are in place: I have a masters' degree in education, I own a large quantity of books about teaching, I know who Maria Montano-Harmon is, I have various sizes of sticky notes and many colors of dry erase markers--it seems like I should have this thing down. Right?

Well I thought I had it sorta down... then my friend Eric sent me a link to this book..."Readicide; How Schools are Killing Books and What You Can Do About it" I was discouraged to say the least. Have I been guilty of killing a good book? Well, I think I have only been capable of killing books that should have died long ago. So there.

And then this report from my friend Bud encouraged me; Kathleen Blake Yancey's call to support 21st century writing. It talks about the history and evolution of writing. Why do we write? How do we teach writing to people who by necessity have been writing for years (hint: I think writing teachers have change from teaching to coaching)? It is encouraging to think that education is on the cusp of something new and challenging that includes the technology already in place, allowing students to build on something new.

But as a teacher, am I ready to accept the challenge? I have all this technology, but is it working for the benefit of my students or against it? I think that I operate at about 60% of my capacity as a teacher. Where is that other 40%? And is that 40% the part that includes innovating curriculum by using the technology I have? I have a feeling the 40% is mired down in all the things I have to do. It seems like this year I have fewer students but more hoop-jumping.

Maybe this is all just the February slump and maybe I should just not worry too much about it. But then why would I blog about it?

Don't fear the writing

My students are scared, no-- mortified of something so heinous and repugnant that they can barely speak its name... their own writing.

I remember when I was a senior in high school. It was Mrs. Mitchell's AP English class and we had to write a paper on Hamlet. She gave a good two weeks to write the essay, but of course I wrote it the night before it was due. It was back in the stone ages, when paper was printed on reams that had the feeder dots on each side. Each time I would print a paper, I had to a) spend ten minutes disconnecting and collating the papers and b) remove these silly dotted ream-feeders that eventually got wrapped around my fingers and became curly-qs. So here is my point, I was tearing off those silly things and I chanced to look at this epic essay written a mere 12 hours earlier. I had five type-os on the first page alone. I got that sinking pit stomach feeling. I realized I couldn't change anything about it. I got the paper back a couple weeks later and the type-os were the least of my problems.

Procrastination and fear are two separate things. I procrastinate lots, its my way. But my students not only procrastinate, they don't revise or self-edit. Is this because they do it at the last minute? They just don't have the time? Maybe, but they do this in timed writings as well. I will give them 30 minutes to write an essay, and they will finish in 15, then they will place the essay on the furthest corner of their desk, put down their heads, and sleep. When did sleeping become more important than self-reflection?

My theory is that none of us WANT to self-reflect. Why is that? Are we afraid to self-reflect? Are we afraid of what we will find?

Te echo de menos España

It has been 10 years since I lived in Granada. Here are the ten things I miss the most;

1. Kissing on both cheeks: a very nice greeting when you especially liked the person you were meeting ;-)
2. Cafe con Leche: coffee was richer in Spain, and velvety. And the milk... you can't be lactose intolerant in Spain... no way.
   
3. Walking everywhere: I walked to school, I walked to see friends, you could just get lost in your own walking thoughts.
4. The gardens of Carmen de los Martires; up by the Alhambra, there were these public gardens. Walking through them, you could always hear water trickling in a fountain somewhere. Nice corners for sitting and staring into space.
5. My host family: They were the sweetest people ever. I was so vulnerable when I arrived in Granada and they treated me as their own. My host mother called me "hija de mi vida". I haven't kept in touch with them and I am so bummed about that.
   
6. Jamon serrano: Giant pig legs hanging in butcher shops seemed off-putting at first, then you had a taste of some when you got tapas. Yah. Best served with bread drizzled with olive oil, and a tomato rubbed on it. I am actually drooling now. You can't be a vegetarian in Spain... no way.
   
7. Barcelona: Yes, I lived in Granada, but Barcelona was this giant city that felt like a small town. I can't recommend it enough.
8. The teterias in Al Albaicin: these Moorish teahouses on a crooked little street in the Albaicin. They smelled like incense and had the sweetest Chai. We sat on cushions on the floor, so great.
9. Chocolate filled criossants: while walking, you pass by a panaderia and this waft of chocolate and bread assaults you, pins you down and takes your money. Well, they weren't that violent but they were irresistible.
10. Siesta: hey, it is 2:30, you have just finished an amazing meal, time for a nap!

Lars and the Real Girl

After watching this movie "Lars and the Real Girl" I am fantastically aware of how hard it is to connect to others. People struggle so much with the feeling that they (we?) are too inadequate to be loved for our authentic selves and yet we want more than anything to feel validated for who we really are.

What I loved about this movie was the idea that this man couldn't deal with the issues in his real life so he manifested a new life with a lifelike doll. I will admit that I have dreamed of falling in love with Matt Damon or being interviewed on Oprah (for my epic novel fyi) and while I don't think I need those things to function, I wonder why they surface. As my friend Eric commented in another posting, wanting big changes may just be a manifestation of something we aren't really dealing with. In the same way, the fantasy life may be a manifestation of something undealt with.

Is it possible that all the addictions and distractions (the fantasy) we maintain in our lives keep us safe, but ultimately out of the danger of being truly happy? I love Kenny Rogers' song "The Gambler" but I think he had it a little wrong. You gotta know when to hold 'em, sure, but I think you also gotta know that you are your own worst enemy sometimes. Sometimes you have to risk it in order to win big. There are no guarantees, sadly. And maybe that isn't so sad. Maybe we should embrace a life of no guarantees and embrace the craziness that life brings us anyway.

You need a little Kenny today?

the flu as metaphor?

So I am home sick from school today. I keep wondering if it is a metaphor for something. Is getting sick the body's way of rebooting? I have been thinking about some major changes in my life. Specifically looking at changes in the way I operate. I am a character of habit and routine, and once I get into a routine that works, it becomes monotonous.

Today I broke out of my routine. I did small things outside of what I normally do when I am home sick. I read more instead of vegging out. I sat in a different room than I usually sit in. I suppose the hope is that these little things will eventually lead to larger changes. It is hard for me to make the big changes, so will these little changes in routine make a difference?

Big picture; I hope to change my eating habits, my workout routine, my use of free time, and my use of work time. Those are all BIG things, any advice on how to make big changes happen?

procrastinators get it done.... eventually

So this morning, a few cups of coffee down, yesterday's paper finished (great article about M. Ward in the Times) and a Rock Hudson/ Doris Day movie I had never seen, I now contemplate having a day off and time stretching ruthlessly before me. This inevitably happens on my days off; it is about noon before I get to my actual list which involves a whole load of things I don't want to do.

What inevitably happens is nothing productive or good. I may get my laundry folded, I may work on my lesson plans for the next day, and I may work out. But when one is given the gift of free time, how is it supposed to be spent? I get this feeling that I am supposed to be the Martha Stewart of productivity. I am supposed to make all my meals for the week and expertly freeze them, clean the house top to bottom, lesson plan the rest of the semester, catch up on all my bedside reading, find the answer to world peace, and still have time to host a dinner party for 12.

Instead, this morning I am downloading a bunch of free music picks from Starbucks, playing some online scrabble, and generally waiting for that burst of inspired energy to smack me upside the head.

Teaching is a profession riddled with guilty feelings. I do have some teacher friends who are so very good about maintaining their diligent work ethic. My friend Amy always plans a reward for her work. "If I grade 20 papers, I can go swimming." I practice the reverse; "If I go swimming, I can always grade those last 20 papers when I get back". I call this the Scarlett O'Hara philosophy of life. Tomorrah is (after all) anothah day... (eyes batting hopefully). Why put off today what you can eventually put off tomorrow?

I blame my father mostly for this philosophy. When he was a teacher, he would save all the papers collected during the quarter and then grade them all about two days before grades were due. He would sit at the TV, watching old episodes of Nova and grading each paper with unintelligible comments and symbols that only he could understand.

And even now, as I look at the clock, I see that it is 12:30 and oh, how the guilt bubbles to the surface of my consciousness. I have to do two things; a) have grace for the part of me that wants to surf YouTube all day and b) be really disciplined about limiting the things that suck the most time out of my life.

It all seems to be about motivation. I don't know if I can train myself to be more motivated about the things I don't want to do. Motivation isn't something you can make grow, it has to develop on its own. But maybe I can plant more seeds of motivation in my garden.

the start of something crazy

Hello,

I am feeling a little crazy for starting a blog, but I think I have things to say. I hope to post my reflections on my teaching practice as well as my reflections on my spiritual growth and renewal. I think that those things are intertwined. It is my life after all, hard to compartmentalize what is all interconnected.

Just a start, I will post more later, but my friend just brought me some killer salsa. It is the perfect blend of spicy and sweetness... oh yeah.

peace out.