Untitled Document<\/title> \n<meta http-equiv=\"Content-Type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=iso-8859-1\"> \n<\/meta><\/head><\/p>\n<body><\/p>\nA few colleagues have been exchanging poems via our English and Foreign Languages \n listserv. The poems have dealt with some less-than-positive learning experiences \n the poets had suffered in grade school: bad methods, bad teachers, all producing \n bad effects on learning….<\/p>\nThe original poem was an unexpected gift from out of the blue—but from \n a poet who has led us to expect such generous spontaneity. As usual, a wonderful \n read. It was the camaraderie of the poetic response, however, that stimulated \n me to plunge—somehow—into this dialogue. What fun…. <\/p>\n<\/p>\nI had several moods leading me in. The poems made me think of grammar school, \n good\/bad teachers, creative writing, personal history, English education, NCATE, \n and a bunch o’ other stuffo. Perhaps foremost of all, I fell into a "what \n I did on my summer vacation" mode, for all my messages were converging \n on a few English Education projects I had been working on lately. But the knot \n of motives pushing me to write was too tangled and thick for a listserv quickie, \n so I instead came to the blog. I wound up not sending a message to the listserv, \n but here’s how I started <\/em>to write that message:<\/p>\nFriends, thanks for the poems! You made me think of some writing I did recently \n in a personal response\/literary mode—literary not in the sense of original \n poetry, :), but at least in the sense of "literary criticism." I have \n two pieces I want to share, a "reader’s response" to Larry Watson’s \n novel, Montana, 1948<\/em>, and another "reader’s response" to \n Art Spiegelman’s comic book\/novel\/memoir Maus<\/em>. The responses started \n out as work, but I wound up having some fun with them, and they show some stuff \n about me, just as your poems show some stuff about you. Your poems mix together \n a serious message with a light touch and a pinch of crankiness—all my \n favorite things! My responses, too, represent a mix of things, most important \n being several English education matters we’ll be talking about in upcoming weeks: \n the new Young Adult Literature program Norm and I are developing, the new English \n Education Database, the role of critical theory in literature courses, and more. \n I’ll sort through some of these matters below, but first I’ll comment on the \n work and play parts behind this message.<\/p>\n THE WORK PART OF IT<\/strong> \n One of my summer projects was to collect exemplars for some of the Young Adult \n Literature assignments Norm and I are putting into place. Over the course of \n the English Ed program, students will now be required to read and write on at \n least 16 YAL novels (these reading\/writing assignments will be done in the context \n of all the English Education courses). Norm and I hope that their responses \n might take various forms—book reviews, reader responses, applications of critical \n theory, dialogues, MOO logs, etc.\n<\/p>\n I’m hoping (and confident) the whole<\/em> English major can help students \n learn to "respond to literature" in multiple<\/em> and aware<\/em> \n ways. In the methods course, I try to address the range of possibilities, but \n I give special attention to Reader Response, since that theory is so useful \n for secondary instruction—and also because it features so many key principles \n of "textuality" we are trying to teach our students in many different \n ways. Anyway<\/em> … This summer, I wanted to generate some practical models \n of a "reader’s response." Oddly enough, students often struggle in \n developing their "personal" responses, though I think they generally \n get the theory<\/em> of reader response (if in a too commonsense sort of \n way). Responses tend to dart in with "I liked this\/didn’t like that…" \n etc.; they skate over some random feelings; and they exit. These are not responses<\/em> \n so much as a type of checking in, or phatic communication, or gesturing—verbal \n nodding, smiling, frowning….\n<\/p>\n As a remedy, I’ve talked about "tracing a connection" to a literary \n work as one<\/em> way of doing Reader Response. In responding to both Maus<\/em> \n and Montana, 1948<\/em>, I tried to illustrate this type of response strategy \n (I have links below). The Montana, 1948<\/em> entry traces a connection I \n felt with the adolescent narrator, David Hayden, for the novel brought me back \n to feelings of isolation, intensity, silence, and the general difficulty of \n absorbing the adult world besieging me as a teen. In Maus<\/em>, the father-son \n relationship reminded me of my father, and, in a way, all fathers and sons, \n particularly as the son becomes an adult.\n<\/p>\n THE FUN PART OF IT<\/strong> \n I’m a little proud of my "personal connection" piece on Maus<\/em>. \n For if ever there was a work about which there was "more to say" and \n more possible<\/em> connections to make, it is this work. In that sense I \n think my response shows students just how much they, when organizing around \n a personal connection, have to ignore<\/em>, or rather filter<\/em> into \n the background, or rather re-orient<\/em> into subordinate, but connected, \n positions. The tracing of a connection is a deliberate type of tangential thinking. \n The strategy involves using the text as a springboard into one’s own story, \n or reflection, or soapbox, or reverie. I also try to suggest that this "tracing \n of a connection" can be an attitude<\/em> one brings to literature in \n general (not the only<\/em> attitude, and not always an appropriate attitude). \n If this attitude is inhabited long enough, one may find unexpected and compelling—and \n occasionally magical—ways out of their own story and back to the text. \n This attitude, in other words, (to use a favorite metaphor of people in our \n business) can lead to interwoven<\/em> responses and texts. Or another metaphor: \n Internal private resonances striking a chord back in the text—the whole of \n which is sharable by a larger chorus of readers: a wonderful dialectic simultaneously \n beyond and within the text. That was the fun of it, a mighty synthesis, or mystic \n collapse of text reader and community in meaningfulness.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\nHere are links to the two YAL responses:<\/p>\nMontana, 1948:<\/em> <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=42\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=42<\/a><\/p>\nMaus<\/em>: <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=44\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=44<\/a><\/p>\n<hr \/>\nBACK TO THE WORK PART \n Introducing the English Education Database<\/strong> (<a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb<\/a>)<\/strong>\n<\/p>\nThe upshot of all this is that I have placed the responses (or rather links \n to them) in the newly-created (drum roll, please) English Education \n Database<\/strong>. I’m pumped about the possibilities of this new resource—not \n only for its uses in the EE program, but also for the English major in general \n and for others as well (IATE, alumni, the professional community):\n<\/p>\nThe English Education Database<\/strong>: This database may be found \n at <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb<\/a>. It \n will consist primarily of student artifacts—e.g., student Webfolio pieces \n (lesson plans, units, responses to YAL, research, professional issues, resources, \n etc.) that show excellence in one way or another. It will be searchable according \n to meta-tags of our own design. The database will grow over time.We could implement \n a vetting process for artifacts to be included, and this process could provide \n instructors an opportunity to enforce and encourage standards in the creation \n and dissemination of English Education resources. The database will serve as \n a resource for future students, and ideally, future teachers, as it will be \n public, for the most part (but not totally, depending on our wishes), and it \n will function as an indexed, dynamic repository for exemplary work in various \n useful categories.\n<\/p>\nAt present there are only a few records in the database, just some sample starter \n stuff to illustrate possibilities. (Click on the title link of an entry to go \n to the resource; click on the "Full Record" link to the right to read \n the description of the resource.) The records are editable by administrators; \n or we could create a student panel to vet submissions, compose the text for \n records, and maintain the database.\n<\/p>\nBut the resource has possibilities—in areas of assessment, student accountability, \n and more. For instance:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>The database might well serve as a site for storing and organizing student \n portfolio work required for NCATE (e.g., 207 and 395 papers). <\/li>\n<li>The database might store papers completed in literature and writing courses, \n and thus become a publication venue for all EFL students (for instance, sample \n student essays illustrating appropriate tactics of different critical theories \n could be stored in the database).<\/li>\n<li>The English Education Database might morph into an EFL Database; we could, \n perhaps, create an EFL Database Committee to establish criteria and standards \n for submission and acceptance of artifacts into the database.<\/li>\n<li>In connection with the two previous points the EE Database might help coordinate \n the EFL major by creating an "institution" across courses that invites, \n archives, organizes, and publishes student work that exemplifies the department’s \n learning objectives…<\/li>\n<\/ul>\nI want to close this entry on a strand that leads perhaps to another entry \n (and thus I will inhabit a bit the chaos of blogging). I’m thinking of the EE \n Database functioning as a kind of "program archive." But what of the \n students individually? Where are their<\/em> archives? What about the notion \n of "blog as archive"? What if we gave each student a blog at the start \n of their program, and asked them to use it as a kind of writer’s notebook for \n their time here at SXU (and beyond). I think that would be cool, and I say that \n on the basis of becoming a blogger (if a somewhat lumbering one) myself. Writing \n in a blog has helped me grow more reflective about purpose, audience, process, \n and medium. In courses, faculty could use the student blogs or not for assignments, \n as they saw fit. But the students would always have the space as a place to \n record, gather, and grow their thoughts over time.\n<\/p>\nThere is, of course, always a down side. For instance, consider the "looseness" \n of the blog as a medium for responding to literature. There’s a point in my \n response to Montana, 1948<\/em> where I confess I can’t remember the narrator’s \n name (Later in the same entry, I find the name out when I have to search the \n book for a quotation). That kind of writing in student literary analysis papers \n might be most disturbing. The blog encourages "processy" mess, randomness, \n informality. It’s a double-edged sword: loosening students up in regards to \n expression. On the other hand, as an example of a new positive<\/em> potentiality \n that blogging opens, I’d point to the part in my Maus<\/em> entry where I \n create a link to my brother’s memoir on my father. In an instant, through hypertextuality, \n I am able to create a full-blown counter-statement (as a needed layer to my \n argument) without any of the distraction that would come from doing the writing \n myself. Brother Joe, writing so lovingly—and my hypertext link pointing \n that way approvingly—enable me to write cantankerously most efficiently \n without fear of impiety. Blogs encourage and support this kind of intertextuality \n (such links functioning as a kind of footnotes on steroids).\n<\/p>\nCertainly, the medium of blogging opens new potentialities\/problems\/issues \n that need sorting out. Even at this early phase, though, I envision so many \n different uses of blogs, and I am so impressed at how many of these uses strike \n a chord with the most established principles of rhetoric and composition.\n<\/p>\n<\/body> \n<\/html><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"A few colleagues have been exchanging poems via our English and Foreign Languages \nlistserv. . . <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,2,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-45","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-english-education-planning","category-on-blogging","category-thoughts-on-teaching-and-learning"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/45","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=45"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/45\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=45"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=45"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=45"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}

{"id":45,"date":"2005-08-11T07:31:03","date_gmt":"2005-08-11T12:31:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog1\/?p=45"},"modified":"2005-08-27T18:28:04","modified_gmt":"2005-08-27T23:28:04","slug":"it-starts-with-a-poem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/archives\/45","title":{"rendered":"It Starts with a Poem"},"content":{"rendered":"

\n
\nUntitled Document<\/title> \n<meta http-equiv=\"Content-Type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=iso-8859-1\"> \n<\/meta><\/head><\/p>\n<body><\/p>\nA few colleagues have been exchanging poems via our English and Foreign Languages \n listserv. The poems have dealt with some less-than-positive learning experiences \n the poets had suffered in grade school: bad methods, bad teachers, all producing \n bad effects on learning….<\/p>\nThe original poem was an unexpected gift from out of the blue—but from \n a poet who has led us to expect such generous spontaneity. As usual, a wonderful \n read. It was the camaraderie of the poetic response, however, that stimulated \n me to plunge—somehow—into this dialogue. What fun…. <\/p>\n<\/p>\nI had several moods leading me in. The poems made me think of grammar school, \n good\/bad teachers, creative writing, personal history, English education, NCATE, \n and a bunch o’ other stuffo. Perhaps foremost of all, I fell into a "what \n I did on my summer vacation" mode, for all my messages were converging \n on a few English Education projects I had been working on lately. But the knot \n of motives pushing me to write was too tangled and thick for a listserv quickie, \n so I instead came to the blog. I wound up not sending a message to the listserv, \n but here’s how I started <\/em>to write that message:<\/p>\nFriends, thanks for the poems! You made me think of some writing I did recently \n in a personal response\/literary mode—literary not in the sense of original \n poetry, :), but at least in the sense of "literary criticism." I have \n two pieces I want to share, a "reader’s response" to Larry Watson’s \n novel, Montana, 1948<\/em>, and another "reader’s response" to \n Art Spiegelman’s comic book\/novel\/memoir Maus<\/em>. The responses started \n out as work, but I wound up having some fun with them, and they show some stuff \n about me, just as your poems show some stuff about you. Your poems mix together \n a serious message with a light touch and a pinch of crankiness—all my \n favorite things! My responses, too, represent a mix of things, most important \n being several English education matters we’ll be talking about in upcoming weeks: \n the new Young Adult Literature program Norm and I are developing, the new English \n Education Database, the role of critical theory in literature courses, and more. \n I’ll sort through some of these matters below, but first I’ll comment on the \n work and play parts behind this message.<\/p>\n THE WORK PART OF IT<\/strong> \n One of my summer projects was to collect exemplars for some of the Young Adult \n Literature assignments Norm and I are putting into place. Over the course of \n the English Ed program, students will now be required to read and write on at \n least 16 YAL novels (these reading\/writing assignments will be done in the context \n of all the English Education courses). Norm and I hope that their responses \n might take various forms—book reviews, reader responses, applications of critical \n theory, dialogues, MOO logs, etc.\n<\/p>\n I’m hoping (and confident) the whole<\/em> English major can help students \n learn to "respond to literature" in multiple<\/em> and aware<\/em> \n ways. In the methods course, I try to address the range of possibilities, but \n I give special attention to Reader Response, since that theory is so useful \n for secondary instruction—and also because it features so many key principles \n of "textuality" we are trying to teach our students in many different \n ways. Anyway<\/em> … This summer, I wanted to generate some practical models \n of a "reader’s response." Oddly enough, students often struggle in \n developing their "personal" responses, though I think they generally \n get the theory<\/em> of reader response (if in a too commonsense sort of \n way). Responses tend to dart in with "I liked this\/didn’t like that…" \n etc.; they skate over some random feelings; and they exit. These are not responses<\/em> \n so much as a type of checking in, or phatic communication, or gesturing—verbal \n nodding, smiling, frowning….\n<\/p>\n As a remedy, I’ve talked about "tracing a connection" to a literary \n work as one<\/em> way of doing Reader Response. In responding to both Maus<\/em> \n and Montana, 1948<\/em>, I tried to illustrate this type of response strategy \n (I have links below). The Montana, 1948<\/em> entry traces a connection I \n felt with the adolescent narrator, David Hayden, for the novel brought me back \n to feelings of isolation, intensity, silence, and the general difficulty of \n absorbing the adult world besieging me as a teen. In Maus<\/em>, the father-son \n relationship reminded me of my father, and, in a way, all fathers and sons, \n particularly as the son becomes an adult.\n<\/p>\n THE FUN PART OF IT<\/strong> \n I’m a little proud of my "personal connection" piece on Maus<\/em>. \n For if ever there was a work about which there was "more to say" and \n more possible<\/em> connections to make, it is this work. In that sense I \n think my response shows students just how much they, when organizing around \n a personal connection, have to ignore<\/em>, or rather filter<\/em> into \n the background, or rather re-orient<\/em> into subordinate, but connected, \n positions. The tracing of a connection is a deliberate type of tangential thinking. \n The strategy involves using the text as a springboard into one’s own story, \n or reflection, or soapbox, or reverie. I also try to suggest that this "tracing \n of a connection" can be an attitude<\/em> one brings to literature in \n general (not the only<\/em> attitude, and not always an appropriate attitude). \n If this attitude is inhabited long enough, one may find unexpected and compelling—and \n occasionally magical—ways out of their own story and back to the text. \n This attitude, in other words, (to use a favorite metaphor of people in our \n business) can lead to interwoven<\/em> responses and texts. Or another metaphor: \n Internal private resonances striking a chord back in the text—the whole of \n which is sharable by a larger chorus of readers: a wonderful dialectic simultaneously \n beyond and within the text. That was the fun of it, a mighty synthesis, or mystic \n collapse of text reader and community in meaningfulness.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\nHere are links to the two YAL responses:<\/p>\nMontana, 1948:<\/em> <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=42\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=42<\/a><\/p>\nMaus<\/em>: <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=44\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/bonadonna\/blog\/?p=44<\/a><\/p>\n<hr \/>\nBACK TO THE WORK PART \n Introducing the English Education Database<\/strong> (<a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb<\/a>)<\/strong>\n<\/p>\nThe upshot of all this is that I have placed the responses (or rather links \n to them) in the newly-created (drum roll, please) English Education \n Database<\/strong>. I’m pumped about the possibilities of this new resource—not \n only for its uses in the EE program, but also for the English major in general \n and for others as well (IATE, alumni, the professional community):\n<\/p>\nThe English Education Database<\/strong>: This database may be found \n at <a href=\"http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb\">http:\/\/english.sxu.edu\/eedb<\/a>. It \n will consist primarily of student artifacts—e.g., student Webfolio pieces \n (lesson plans, units, responses to YAL, research, professional issues, resources, \n etc.) that show excellence in one way or another. It will be searchable according \n to meta-tags of our own design. The database will grow over time.We could implement \n a vetting process for artifacts to be included, and this process could provide \n instructors an opportunity to enforce and encourage standards in the creation \n and dissemination of English Education resources. The database will serve as \n a resource for future students, and ideally, future teachers, as it will be \n public, for the most part (but not totally, depending on our wishes), and it \n will function as an indexed, dynamic repository for exemplary work in various \n useful categories.\n<\/p>\nAt present there are only a few records in the database, just some sample starter \n stuff to illustrate possibilities. (Click on the title link of an entry to go \n to the resource; click on the "Full Record" link to the right to read \n the description of the resource.) The records are editable by administrators; \n or we could create a student panel to vet submissions, compose the text for \n records, and maintain the database.\n<\/p>\nBut the resource has possibilities—in areas of assessment, student accountability, \n and more. For instance:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>The database might well serve as a site for storing and organizing student \n portfolio work required for NCATE (e.g., 207 and 395 papers). <\/li>\n<li>The database might store papers completed in literature and writing courses, \n and thus become a publication venue for all EFL students (for instance, sample \n student essays illustrating appropriate tactics of different critical theories \n could be stored in the database).<\/li>\n<li>The English Education Database might morph into an EFL Database; we could, \n perhaps, create an EFL Database Committee to establish criteria and standards \n for submission and acceptance of artifacts into the database.<\/li>\n<li>In connection with the two previous points the EE Database might help coordinate \n the EFL major by creating an "institution" across courses that invites, \n archives, organizes, and publishes student work that exemplifies the department’s \n learning objectives…<\/li>\n<\/ul>\nI want to close this entry on a strand that leads perhaps to another entry \n (and thus I will inhabit a bit the chaos of blogging). I’m thinking of the EE \n Database functioning as a kind of "program archive." But what of the \n students individually? Where are their<\/em> archives? What about the notion \n of "blog as archive"? What if we gave each student a blog at the start \n of their program, and asked them to use it as a kind of writer’s notebook for \n their time here at SXU (and beyond). I think that would be cool, and I say that \n on the basis of becoming a blogger (if a somewhat lumbering one) myself. Writing \n in a blog has helped me grow more reflective about purpose, audience, process, \n and medium. In courses, faculty could use the student blogs or not for assignments, \n as they saw fit. But the students would always have the space as a place to \n record, gather, and grow their thoughts over time.\n<\/p>\nThere is, of course, always a down side. For instance, consider the "looseness" \n of the blog as a medium for responding to literature. There’s a point in my \n response to Montana, 1948<\/em> where I confess I can’t remember the narrator’s \n name (Later in the same entry, I find the name out when I have to search the \n book for a quotation). That kind of writing in student literary analysis papers \n might be most disturbing. The blog encourages "processy" mess, randomness, \n informality. It’s a double-edged sword: loosening students up in regards to \n expression. On the other hand, as an example of a new positive<\/em> potentiality \n that blogging opens, I’d point to the part in my Maus<\/em> entry where I \n create a link to my brother’s memoir on my father. In an instant, through hypertextuality, \n I am able to create a full-blown counter-statement (as a needed layer to my \n argument) without any of the distraction that would come from doing the writing \n myself. Brother Joe, writing so lovingly—and my hypertext link pointing \n that way approvingly—enable me to write cantankerously most efficiently \n without fear of impiety. Blogs encourage and support this kind of intertextuality \n (such links functioning as a kind of footnotes on steroids).\n<\/p>\nCertainly, the medium of blogging opens new potentialities\/problems\/issues \n that need sorting out. Even at this early phase, though, I envision so many \n different uses of blogs, and I am so impressed at how many of these uses strike \n a chord with the most established principles of rhetoric and composition.\n<\/p>\n<\/body> \n<\/html><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"A few colleagues have been exchanging poems via our English and Foreign Languages \nlistserv. . . <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,2,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-45","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-english-education-planning","category-on-blogging","category-thoughts-on-teaching-and-learning"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/45","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=45"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/45\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=45"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=45"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonadonna.org\/sites\/wordpress\/bonadonna\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=45"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}