Erin has reflected, Norm has emailed, and I have blogged

On Apr 4, 2006, at 8:59 PM, Norman Boyer wrote:

Hi, Angelo,
Take a look at Erin Conlon’s second “Becoming a Teacher of Reading and Lit” blogs. . . .
Norm

Erin–In the matter of https://bonadonna.org/~conlon/trl/trl_blog_reflection2.html, I have smiled to recall a reading life never lived, but similarly lived. I have seen images of myself as a child sitting in my mother’s lap and of myself as a parent holding my young sons and daughters at bedtime. And what I felt in both instances, and everything in between, in that long evolution between stages, has all come back to me and reminded me of what I needed to remember. I have learned how, once again, books connect and extend us–but not in that order, for first they extend, as they take us out into the wide world of adventure and magic and conflict and love and happy and sad endings, and we are marvelously changed, only to find, the next day that someone else had the very same experience, and we can talk about it and laugh and cry again, but this time with someone else, with whom we begin planning our next adventures. I have become astounded at the ironies of summaries, which compress and delete, but also lead on and expand, and involve me in a whole world of process and thought and new activity. I have been inspired by the gentle beauty and vitality of “reflection,” which can play like a movie in my mind, full of life and character and shared things, rather than sit there as part of an educator’s jargon. I have taken hope in a student’s evolution into teacher, only possible when the student really, really, works at it, really, really cares, and really, really transcends the dictates of all those assignments. And finally, I have been heartened to receive a colleague’s email full of quiet pride and admiration.

Thanks for starting my day with a smile, Erin! :) –Angelo


 

NOTE: For those lacking the password to Erin’s blog, here is the text (March 8, 2006):

TRL becoming a teacher of reading and literature blog 2

I began thinking about my journey from a student to becoming a teacher of reading. What has this journey entailed? When I was a baby in my mother’s arms, I said goodnight to the moon and learned how to love and give from a tree. I grew up and ate green eggs and ham, and explored the unknown with a curious monkey named George. I visited many friends in the woods including Hansel and Gretel, the seven dwarfs, and even a group of bears named Berenstain. I learned where the sidewalk ends and what it was like to have a younger brother named Fudge. I explored new places with the BFG, learned in inside outs of a chocolate factory with a boy named Charlie, and a young girl named Matilda encouraged my love of books. I saw how scary the world could be by the goosebumps on my arm. I even questioned where God was with Margaret. I babysat with a club of girls and went to sweet valley high with a set of twins. Ann Frank and a boy named Pony taught me how to be brave. I learned about love in Verona, Holden showed me how to look at the world, and Hester showed me the darker side of human nature. A group of little women showed me individuality, Lenny and George taught me true friendship, and Boo Radley taught me equality. I have grown up since all of this I have looked at the beauty and love in the world with Keats and Shelley, and seen its injustices with Blake. I have traveled on the road with a man named Jack and have learned for who the bell tolls. I have fallen in love with the Darcy’s of the world and my eyes have watched for god with Janie. I have a favorite book, Beloved, and a favorite poem, She Walks in Beauty. I have grown with all of these rich characters and places in my life. I have discovered that through this journey of moving beyond student to teacher I would like to do for my students what has been done for me. I want them to be able to look back in amazement at all of the places they have been through these stories. At the beginning of this class, I hadn’t really reflected on what and how I would teach. I have since revisited many of the cherished stories that I read when I was a younger student and saw with new eyes what these stories really did. When I was a child, I didn’t know I was exploring all things unknown with a monkey named George. All I knew was that it was funny and a good story. I didn’t realize the dangers that lie in the woods were taught to me by a lost brother and sister or a girl on her way to see grandma, but I did. It’s only now that see that Ann Frank and Pony Boy taught me bravery and Lenny and George taught me friendship, but they did. And how is it that I came to understand these themes? Why it’s so obvious but its was my teachers. I knew them all along but sometimes we need that little push to vocalize it. When I look through these books now all of the themes jump out at me and I cant stop myself from thinking about I would help my students to understand them. I think that it is one of the most important steps we can take towards becoming teachers of reading and literature. We are now able to see books with the eyes of a teacher as well as a student’s. Because we will always be students and will always take new journeys with the stories we read, its in understanding the difference between the two is what is going to make us great teachers.

On New Year’s Day, Catching Up on the Last Millennium







Words of the Century

While
conducting my vacation computer maintenance—reformatting, backing up,
upgrading, etc.—I found this list of 100 words, the "words of the
[20th] century" that someone or other sent me at millennium time:

 

The words of the century

 

Two members of the American Dialect Society, David K.
Barnhart and Allan A. Metcalf, have selected a word or phrase per year for
the 20th Century, matching the word with the year when it came into its own.
The list appears in their book "America in So Many Words" (Houghton
Mifflin 1997 & 1999)

 

1900: phony

1901: grass roots

1902: goo

1903: highbrow

1904: cut the mustard

1905: jellybean

1906: muckraker/teddy bear

1907: melting pot

1908: asleep at the switch

1909: pork barrel

1910: barbershop

1911: blues

1912: movies

1913: jazz

1914: backpack

1915: flapper

1916: IQ

1917: GI

1918: D Day

1919: Tshirt

 

1920: normalcy

1921: media

1922: cold turkey

1923: hijack

1924: brainstorm

1925: motel

1926: Bible Belt

1927: macho

1928: athlete’s foot

1929: jalopy

1930: bulldozer

1931: Skid Row

1932: hopefully

1933: supermarket

1934: whistlestop

1935: boondoggle

1936: streamline

1937: groovy

1938: teenager

1939: juke box

1940: jeep

1941: multicultural

1942: gizmo

1943: acronym

1944: snafu

1945: showbiz

1946: Iron Curtain/Cold War

1947: babysit

1948: cybernetics

1949: coo!

1950: DJ

1951: rock and roll

1952: Ms.

1953: UFO

1954: fast food

1955: hotline

1956: brinkmanship

1957: role model

1958: Murphy’s Law

1959: software

1960: sit‑in

1961: biodegradable

1962: car pool

1963: duh

1964: swing voter

1965: affirmative action

1966: credibility gap

1967: ripoff                                  
~:

1968: aerobics

1969: sexism and ageism

1970: bottom line

1971: workaholic

1972: Watergate

1973: sound bite

1974: streak

1975: substance

1976: couch potato

1977: loony tunes

1978: geek

1979: stealth

1980: gridlock

1981: wannabe

1982: like

1983: greenmail

1984: yuppie

1985: rocket scientist

1986: dis

1987: codependency

1988: push the envelope

1989: virtual reality

1990: PC

1991: about

1992: Not!

1993: newbie

1994: go postal

1995: Newt/World Wide Web

1996: soccer mom

1997: Ebonics

1998: millennium bug

1999: Y2K

Continuing On

The Negro Spiritual invites speculations on the human condition in its most extreme circumstances. Whatever essence one assigns the genre—whether these are songs of hope, survival, art, spirit, exploitation, delusion, enablement, triumph, defeat, slavery, fortitude, comfort, despair (and the list goes on)—the power of the language, the resonance of the themes, the rhythms of grief and hope—the tearful beauty of the music—all of it still calls to us today, and, dare I say, describes our grief, our lostness, our burden (even the burden of hope)?

At the risk of perpetuating exploitation by appropriation, or other misuse, I wish to argue, perhaps irreverently, that the greatest Negro Spiritual was composed by an individual who neither had been a slave, nor had lived through the period of slavery. The author was royalty, in fact, a duke, if somewhat ironically: Duke Ellington. The song is “I Like the Sunrise.”

“I like the sunrise”: The expression stands in its simplicity, as though to say more is to say too much, to try too much. There’s a weariness here, but an inexorable hope too. Simple statements, simple logic—all in response to the heavy weight of the old day. But the hope must be sung, even if at a death march pace. This song captures exhaustion and hope in the most melancholy way imaginable.

I like the sunrise
Cause it brings a new day
I like a new day
It brings new hope, they say.

And so it goes. “They” say there’s hope. Is that hope to be discounted as the lies of the world? Whatever the words, whoever the speakers, there’s the sun blazing in the new sky. And that’s a whole different kind of assertion and invitation.

I like the sunrise
blazing in the new sky
Night time is weary
Oh, and so am I.

Every evening I wish upon a star
That my brand new bright tomorrow
Isn’t very far.
When that heavy, blue curtain of night
Is raised up high, out of sight.

I like the sunrise
So heavenly to see
I like the sunrise
I hope it lights for me.

The last line casts a horrible shadow of doubt: why hope that the sunrise “lights for me,” unless there is some threat that it indeed might not light, not for me? Regardless, I hope for the sunrise . . . and a new day.

The Word Spy – defensive pessimism

Well, it turns out there is a word for it–this strategy of control, which leads to an ironic optimism:

The Word Spy – defensive pessimism

“A strategy that anticipates a negative outcome and then takes steps to avoid that outcome….”

Intriguing how this strategy reduces anxiety for some and increases it for others…. There’s the real lesson: the absence of an objective signification for any term, situation, strategy….

This term is a good fit for my “toolbox” approach to teaching. An important tool, here, for all those melancholy, back-door optimists.

Also: What uses could a dictionary like Word Spy be put to in teaching vocabulary in schools? Is there any way high schoolers could perceive and enjoy the fun of a dictionary like this (dedicated to neologisms), where the play and vitality and lability of language is uppermost….