The Classics

One of Sean's favorite ways to poke fun at me is to call me an literary snob. We both read "The Kite Runner" from Khaled Hosseini waaaaaay back in undergrad and when it came up at dinner one night I said something to the effect of its foreshadowing crossed the lines from hinting to clobbering, and that the ironic twists were no longer tantalizing but gut-wrenching. I'm not one to mince words. I finished the tirade by stating it had clearly been written for the masses. He's followed that up by never letting me live my "nose in the air" moment down. Ah, well...

So imagine his shock and surprise that I, for one, LOVE the Twilight series. Talk about written for the masses, and not just any masses, but the 13-17 year old masses. I know I've mentioned its downfalls before, but I can't help it... they just suck me in. I own all four books, have read them each several times now, have already seen Eclipse. Twice. (A few of my students work at the local movie theater and one young man took my ticket at both showings. His response: "Seriously, Shoe? You seemed smarter than that.") I've downloaded all three soundtracks. I'm mostly team Jacob-- and I am SO thankful Taylor Lautner is finally 18 so I feel a little less like a pedophile as I ogle him.

All of my Twilight-lovin' aside, however, I had a disturbing thought yesterday:

Jane Austen is often touted as THE author of the 19th century, as a beacon for the advent of the woman writer. After all, she wrote under her own name in a time when women were best seen but not heard (or read). But when Jane Austen was writing, she was perhaps the Danielle Steele of her era. Ok... that's a bit harsh... maybe the Jodi Piccoult of her time. A fantastic author, yes, but again-- no contender for the Booker here. She entertains us. That's why we remember her now.

But what about William Shakespeare? The Bard of Avon. The hero of hopeless romantics everywhere, the plague of high school English students. We collectively revere him now as the best playwright of all time, but hunt through that iambic pentameter and 16th century English, and you've got smut! Attending The Globe was the equivalent of turning on a sitcom. He wrote to please the masses, literally. The nobility in the box seats, the peasants in the penny pit, he had to entertain them all. And entertain them he did. This is why we remember him now.

Here's where I'm going with this-- what if in another century or two, generations of teenagers and college students pour over the Twilight series. They'll complete a literary analysis of biblical allusions (particularly from the LDS standing, these continually surprise me); pull apart the tenuous ties holding Bella to both Edward and Jacob; and wonder-- what elements of "human" nature transcend all beings? Who do the Volturi, with their power hungry ways, truly satirize? What is the author trying to tell us? "Meyer" will become as common as "Hemingway" or "Byron".

Not to knock ol' Stephenie, but this makes me a little worried. Of course, it won't stop me from re-reading Breaking Dawn by the pool today. Ahhhhhh, summer.

Suggestions??

So, it's been awhile. And yet looking back over the last 3+ months I can't help but think I didn't really miss much that was worth blogging about. My days and weeks are fairly routine with work, and often times I feel like I'm on the wash-rinse-repeat cycle of lesson planning, teaching, grading. Don't get me wrong-- I am loving it. I truly believe that education is the one gift that you can give to any person at any time and regardless of how much or how little they have, it will infinitely enrich their lives. Some days I have to chant that over and over to get to the final bell, but I now found it to be truer than ever.

Reflecting on my own personal education, I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have received a top-notch education. In five years, I was able to earn two BAs and a MA under the guidance of phenomenal professor who shaped me intellectually, mentally, and spiritually. But unfortunately, it's recently come to my attention (now that the routine and wash-rinse-repeat has given me the time to slow down and look around) that each one of those pieces of paper brought with them about 15 pounds that settled right on the hips. Eek.

A few weeks before Christmas, I realized that I had reached the point where I wasn't staying up until midnight grading and planning every night but knew how to balance my time (usually). So instead of spending my usual hour or two blog-stalking or compulsively checking the Facebook news feed I joined the gym near my house and am now working out between 5 and 6 days a week. That number fell by about 50% during the holidays, but now I am back in the swing of things. It amazes me how much I am LOVING working out, and really look forward to getting into the gym. I do need some help though: my workout music selection seems lackluster and I've come dangerously close to flying off the back of the treadmill several times while fiddling with my iPod in an attempt to find something I could groove to for a few miles. So, to all of you (any of you? someone?) out there, can you give me any suggestions for some good work out music??

Really??

I went to see Zombieland land tonight. Gratuitous violence aside, it was a great movie-- witty dialogue, believable characters (at least believable for a world run amok by mad zombie disease) and an under current of a worthwhile theme: loyalty and devotion builds the strength to overcome life's greatest challenges. Blood-vomiting cannibals included. I also came out with a new motivation for cardio exercise.

What I DID NOT appreciate about my Zombieland experience, however, was the fact that I was carded by the acne afflicted, angsty youth taking tickets on the way in. I look under 17?? Really??

A second really for the evening:

The "New Moon" trailer was one of the few shown before the feature show this evening. I saw "Twilight" first, and then read the book. I've been accused of literary snobbery before, but I don't think I'm alone in saying that Stephenie Meyer will be no contender for the Booker. And I'll admit it-- it's a great guilty pleasure. Furthermore as an English teacher, I feel obligated to read what my students are reading. So after the movie, I bought the book New Moon to read between now and the next movie.

One of my biggest problems with Meyer's book (besides the ridiculous repetitiveness of her descriptors) is that Bella Swan is quite possibly the WORST role model for young girls. At the age of 17 she spends her time cleaning up after her bachelor father (who apparently did nothing for himself in the what, 12 years she lived with her mother) and developing an obsessive relationship with a "boy" who is a little too "protective" (read: controlling and manipulative).

While waiting to check out, I flipped the book open to a random page. And I quote: "I spent the morning cleaning the house waiting for Jacob to call. When the phone rang, I dropped the toilet brush and ran downstairs."

Really, Bella, REALLY?? I'll take snooty Hermione any day.

I'll let you know when I finish the series.

Sunnuva...

Yeah, I almost swore in class today. I try (really hard) to stop up my inherited potty mouth in the classroom especially, but sometimes... it almost slips. Almost. I drink water like a camel and usually when a student requests to get a drink during class, he/she has to fill up my water bottle for me. It just so happened that today I was using a water bottle with a particularly tricky lid. I paused during lecture to let them copy down some information, I took a big pull off of said bottle... and the cap fell off, and the water gushed down my shirt. Luckily, I was wearing the quintessential teacher outfit -- pencil skirt, white camisole, dark colored cardigan. As most of my students were focused on their paper at the moment, I didn't say a word about the spill, just buttoned up my cardigan and continued to talk without missing a beat. The few who noticed I think were too shocked to say anything. Wet T-shirt contest postponed till Homecoming.

Three Days In

I walked in the door from school this afternoon, kicked off my shoes immediately, and made a little snack: I counted out 30 bittersweet chocolate chips, measured two tablespoons of Adam's smooth peanut butter, and nuked the two of them together in the microwave until it was a bowl of ooey, gooey bliss. I told myself that sticking to the suggested serving size meant it wasn't as gluttonous as it sounds... right? Right? My college roommates can attest that this is a step up from the stressful days of undergrad when I was often found at odd hours, incoherent from sleep deprivation, pouring hershey's syrup into my mouth already crammed full with Jiff.

So maybe I'm feeling a little stressed. I've got 130 students (give or take-- my class list still changes daily) and I'm scrambling to find chairs and books for everybody, not to mention prepare to teach them all-- but I really, really love it. I've got one squirrely class that was giving me guff the first two days (Sean made fun of me all afternoon for using the word 'guff'. He wanted to know if I am 80 and asked if those darn boys were wearing short pants again) but we had a breakthrough today and I think I'll quit wanting to reinstate corporal punishment in that classroom soon.

Overall, my students are great. I have one German exchange student whose knowledge of American history far surpasses any of the Americans. I have a girl from South America who I get to speak Spanish with on occasion. A boy who told me on the first day of class that he has no academic strengths at all raised his hand not once, not twice, but three times today during class discussions.

Oh, yeah, remember this guy?
Yeah, that's Ronnie "Sunshine" Bass from the classic "Remember the Titans." I swear, I have the real-life incarnation of Ronnie in class. The kid is a dead ringer for him as far as looks go, but it goes much further than that: He just moved from a very warm, sunny state and loves to surf. He also plays football.

Needless to say, there's more than enough to keep me entertained everyday, and so far I've managed to develop a decent rapport with most of the 130-ish students I have. Still, being a first year teacher has me incredibly nervous all of the time. Are they actually learning anything from me? A student made a comment today that made my heart soar. He was the last one out of the classroom and we were chatting as he packed up. He asked what other schools I had taught at and when I told him none, he looked at me, shook his head and said, "Really? I never would have pegged you for a rookie. You're doing an awesome job." He gave me a thumbs up and left the classroom. I don't think he realizes how much he made my day (week? month? I'm still smiling)

It's still incredibly surreal to me that at 23, only 2 months out of graduate school, I've walked into such an amazing job to start my career. Although a little overwhelmed at times, I primarily feel supremely blessed and humbled, especially in this economy. I hope I can keep the rest of them fooled this year.

Hail to the Victors Valiant

It happened. I can't believe it, but it happened: I have a job for this school year!!! I will be returning to the home of the mighty wildcats, Mt. Spokane High School, to teach in the social studies department. I think it's junior American history and sophomore world history... I don't know for sure though, I was hyperventilating by the time they got to that small detail (two seconds into the conversation). As we all know, laconism is not my strong suit, but I was speechless. The principal extended the offer, I laughed and said "Are you kidding me?" Oh so eloquent, I know, and I then proceeded to experience a range of emotions from complete euphoria to absolute fear and nausea in about 10 seconds. Three weeks to plan two preps... I can do this, right? That's what these past five years have been for, right?? Yes we can! Or something like that. At least I already know the fight song.

The Good (NOT SO) Old Days

It's happened. While I still may be indistinguishable from my students physically, today is the first time I made what I thought to be a relevant pop culture reference and they looked at me like I was their grandma. I'm teaching critical reading and writing classes at a tutoring center for high school/middle school students this summer. In class today, one of the guys was talking about the Sherlock Holmes book he is reading right now. I immediately thought of Wishbone and asked if anyone else remembered that episode. Their response? "Who's Wishbone?"

I was shocked, appalled, heartbroken. I remember racing home to finish chores and get to the TV before my brothers did every afternoon so I could tune into that spry little pup and enjoy another afternoon of great classic literature. How could an entire generation of students be missing out on this amazing little guy? Feeling obliged to complete their education at that very moment, I grabbed the laptop from my desk and pulled up the Wishbone theme song on YouTube. 

Notice the source? Yeah... RetroJunk.com. They jumped alllll over that. I take issue with two things here: first, Wishbone is NOT junk! And second, I hardly call the mid-90s retro. I call them the glory days.