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….

Dealing with attendance issues in student teaching

A star student, now at the start of student teaching, writes:

I do want to ask advice about some of the issues that have surprised me. The first issue is attendance. Unfortunately, the lower-level classes [at my school] tend to have poor attendance. This makes it difficult for me and the class on many levels. Obviously, these students are missing precious class time, and they fall behind for the simple fact that they do not get to partake in the class discussions, notes, etc. Furthermore, these students tend to disrupt the flow of class with their constant questions that, while certainly necessary for their academic development, frustrate the other students because we end up covering the same issues over and over again (this becomes a compounded problem when several students are absent on the same day but return to school on different days). Additionally, the attendance problems make it difficult for me to do much group work with the students.

How can I incorporate group work without then penalizing the students who were absent (and without driving myself crazy trying to remember make-up assignments to equal the missed group work)? I’m not as concerned about doing group with with the regular-level class (and later on, the honors classes I will pick up the last week in Sept.) But for this Skills class, it poses a problem for me. The attendance also makes it hard for me to establish routine in the classroom. I have been enlightened by the teachings of Harry Wong, and his explanation and reasoning for procedures/routines can’t be beat. Yet, I’m facing an uphill battle just trying to catch everyone up on missed work while still teaching the planned lessons. And if that isn’t bad enough, we still have a lot of new students entering the classes each day (I had 3 new students in one class period today! FYI, school started on Aug 29).

Your attendance situation gets me thinking in a couple ways. I don’t have any slam-dunk answers, but a few possibilities. I think you have to look for organizational structures that enable individuals at all different points of project completion to work at their own level and pace. You need a clear communication of weekly or daily assignments (on the board each day, or on a weekly handout you could give to students and refer them to). I think if you could make personal responsibility a part of the grade, you might be able to reward productive behavior, and perhaps give the non-achievers a clearer route by which they can earn credit. I think you need to focus fiercely on keeping things positive, giving students as much a way to EARN points for cooperative behavior as possible. You need to communicate relentlessly about all the routes to success in the class. And even when you’re feeling extremely disappointed, you have to bring a positive, upbeat message to the group. As Machiavelli says, praise in public, censure in private. (Of course, sometimes you’ll have to raise hell with them, but that strong spice must be used sparingly. Love them more than you scold them, and even if you find you have to kill them, make sure you do so with kindness rather than with anger.)

As you know, I would advocate as much a workshop approach as possible, where you could counsel kids one-on-one as much as possible (thus not worry about wasting whole-class time catching up the kids needing catching-up). Also, I would advocate the set-up of as much “IEP-type” instruction as possible. (Richard Kent advocates the use of “People Plans” instead of “Lesson Plans”). Can you set up workshop so students are working towards individual goals as much as, if not more than, whole-group or small-group projects? Think of approaching that fragmented group in terms of developing “IEPs” for all of them. How would that change things? (I know things like your lesson plans, mandated curricula, and cooperating teachers might not make these approaches easy or obviously implementable….)

Also: these kids obviously don’t have a stake in class. How could they develop one? Can you ask them? Can you negotiate with them? Can you lay out YOUR absolutes (what are they?)–and then find places to respond to THEIR needs/desires? I’m not suggesting you become a pushover (I don’t think that would happen); you could be very firm, and yet very open and flexible with them. I think you need to meet them halfway on some issues…. What ways are you using to find out their attitudes, feelings, difficulties, obstacles, and struggles? In what ways can you adjust on the basis of what you discover?

This could be your experimental class. You are not having these issues with other groups. Why not communicate to this group their “special” status? They’re your project class: puff them up to be your great success story. Pull out all the stops. Use psychological warfare. Make it personal, and do confide in them how well they are doing when they are doing well–and always SEE THEM to be doing well…. (Is that fighting dirty? All’s fair in love, war, and trouble classes….)

Montaigne Thing II: A Personal, Random Barlett’s Bin


“It wasn’t the sun. It wasn’t the wind. I have no excuses. My play led to a loss [and] I’m taking full responsibility. Maybe I can learn something from this.” Brant Brown on a dropped fly ball in the Cubs outfield in September 1998. (Here’s Ron Santo’s version of the event.)

“Never ascribe to malice that which is adequately explained by incompetence. Napoleon Bonaparte

“The more you complain, the longer God lets you live.” Unknown

“Nothing bad ever happens to a writer. Everything is material.” A Message from the Profession of English Majors, Garrison Keillor

“The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.” To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf

[In reference to the poetry of Anne Sexton:]
“How do I explain these poems? Not at all. I quit teaching in colleges because it seemed so criminal to explain works of art.” Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

“The great question which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my 30 years of research into the feminine soul, is ‘What does a woman want?'” Sigmund Freud

“No, no, you’re not thinking; you’re just being logical.” Niels Bohr

For being reminded of those days when we did not know any better is all that is left to us when we do. Djuna Barnes

“She gave me everything a good woman can give a man. In return, she received from me all the heartache and misery a man can inflict upon a woman.” Diego Rivera

“A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.” Italo Calvino