I have been moved to tears by two movies lately, but I will get to that in a moment.
I do not matter. Nobody really reads my blogs, or notices when I do not tweet, or update my Facebook status. This is my fist year without any coaching responsibilities, and I miss it, but the games go on. ESU 10 will not shut down if I am not there, or even if I move on. I do not matter on a grand scale. But I will get back to this in a moment.
One of the themes that connect the two movies is the importance of the everyday. The importance of finding the meaning in life by our everyday struggles. Whether we write poetry or work hard for our family. These two films express the why behind those struggles and relates the power we have to make each moment matter.
I do not matter, except to a few people, most importantly my family. I have made difficult decisions that I felt would be the best for my family. I strive to create a better life for my wife and children.
I matter to a few students. For all my failures, I have simply tried to empower my students to find their own voice. Have I succeed? Not all the time, not with all the students. But I have tried. Every day.
For whatever reason life has been reinforcing the idea that every day matters. For me, for you, for the people we interact with every day.
Brady’s essay takes a look at how an object/idea can be an antagonist for a story. He states that he doesn’t like to write, but I think you can read his talent.
The Street as the True Antagonist
The nasty enemy, the bad guy, the evil adversary. No matter how it’s phased, almost every story has an antagonist. But who is this character in Ann Petry’s The Street? In this case it is not a question of who, but what. In the novel, the true antagonist that works against Lutie is the street itself.
First, let’s look at the definition of an antagonist. The Glossary of Literary Terms at UNCP.edu establishes, “an antagonist is a character in a story or poem who deceives, frustrates, or works against the main character, or protagonist, in some way.” The street fits this definition perfectly. In the beginning, the street deceives Lutie. Throughout the novel, it employs different methods to frustrate and discourage her. In the end, the street succeeds in breaking her will and defeats her. It is able to do this by using people like Mrs. Hedges, Junto, Jones, and Boots as its minions.
At first, the street appears to be an escape, a way out of the situation with her father and his girlfriend. She needs somewhere cheap and the street looks to be the answer. The street uses deception to lure Lutie in. When she first arrives on the street, she sees Mrs. Hedges in the window. She speaks with her in a pleasant welcoming voice. Mrs. Hedges’ pleasantness convinces Lutie to inquire about an apartment. Though some things about the place disturb her, she moves in anyway. She believes that it will only be temporary, assuring herself, “I’m young and strong, there isn’t anything I can’t do”(63). She does not realize she has been coaxed into a trap.
After she moved in, the street began to show its nasty side. It began to use any methods at its disposal to discourage Lutie from success. Lutie also begins to notice the people around her, people that the street has already claimed as victims. Lutie sees a girl whose brother has just been stabbed to death. The girl has a resigned look on her face, and Lutie thinks to herself, “She had lost the ability to protest against anything – even death” (197).
Another example is a girl she sees in the hospital. The girl had been severely stabbed, yet her face showed nothing but acceptance and disconnect from the situation. It was as though she had been expecting something terrible to happen. The street is trying to make her accept failure and defeat as a norm.
The street also uses men like Jones, Junto, and Boots to make her believe that she must give up her body and dignity to succeed. Even Mrs. Hedges, a woman, plays into this stereotype, offering Lutie a job essentially as a prostitute. Lutie realizes with disgust, “If you live on this damn street you’re supposed to want to earn a little extra money sleeping around nights” (86). The street gives her a false sense of hope when she is offered a job singing at the Casino. She then discovers that the real reason she is there is because Boots and Junto have sexual motives. At this point, the street has worn her down, but not conquered her. She is frustrated and angry, but she still holds on to her determination to be successful.
The street is finally able to break her when it targets Bub. Jones sets Bub up to get arrested. When Bub is taken Lutie begins to lose hope. Then, Boots attacks her and attempts to rape her. She is forced into a rage. After she murders Boots, her will is broken. She tells herself, “She was a murderer. And the smartest lawyer in the world couldn’t do anything for Bub, not now, not when his mother had killed a man” (432).
She then purchases the train ticket to Chicago and abandons Bub. While she sat on the train, all she could think about was, “It was that street. It was that god-damned street” (435). It was indeed the street that had been working against her all along. It gave her false hope only to take it away. Now that the street had broken her will, it had claimed another victim.
I wanted to showcase some of my students’ work over the next couple of weeks. The first is Brooke, an American Literature student. She is usually quiet in class, but she has a tremendous talent with the written word. Here is her essay over the book The Street. If you get the chance, please leave her some feed back on her essay. Thank you.
Money: The Downfall of Mankind
Throughout life we are constantly moving. Shoving our way through crowds stomping on dreams already left shattered on the pavement. Regressing, sliding backwards until we stumble over sidewalk cracks or other people passing. No matter which direction we move in we experience those moments that completely turn everything around. Moments of impact where we finally collide with all that we are and what we will become when it’s all over. These collisions shape us. They are the moments when everything falls together and the lesson to be learned is directly in front of us. Some learn to appreciate these moments while others flee from them. On the streets of Harlem people are always avoiding these moments of impact for fear that any realization will send the walls they’ve built crumbling around them. None of them have the strength left to pick through the rubble to rebuild. They’ve already suffered too much. The source of their suffering: a fragile paper dollar.
This fragile piece of paper distorts reality, lifts and slays hope, and defeats the downtrodden. Lutie Johnson and her son Bub are subject to the supremacy of the dollar along with everyone they cross paths with. Every aspect of their life relies on whether or not they can afford to live. Lutie’s first trial began with her husband Jim. Employment is difficult for black men to find and the only work offered is demeaning. They find themselves drifting along surrounded by their own inferiority. Strong, courageous men shrink in the face of money, for it taunts them constantly reminding them of their inadequacies. Jim had said, “Don’t they know if I knew how I’d change the color of my skin?” (Petry 30). As Jim sat back, his pride crushed, Lutie found a job far from home in America. Ignoring the warnings of Mrs. Pizzini who believed, “It’s best that the man work when the babies are young. And when the man is young. Not good for the women to work when she’s young. Not good for the man” (Petry 33). Unfortunately money made the decision for this family before they had any clue what they were heading for. Money is a necessity in this life, aware of its own authority it curls around the fate of families who can’t make ends meet.
In the Chandler household Lutie becomes aware of the American Dream. The Chandlers have paper stacked in every item in their home. It struts around in their clothes, furniture, and conversation. Revealing its crucial importance and persuading all that it’s truly invincible. Conversation in the Chandler home revolved around, “Richest damn country in the world—Always be new markets. If not here in South America, Africa, India—Everywhere and anywhere—Hell make it while you’re young. Anyone can do it—Outsmart the next guy. Think up something before anyone else does. Retire at forty” (Petry 43). The reality of this is not everyone can make money, and this is made obvious in the statement that follows. It’s extremely contradictory to say that anyone can make money, but outsmarting others is necessary to do so. White people made sure colored people were easy to outsmart by allowing them absolutely nothing. Paper constructs this complex competition where only the strong can survive and unfortunately the definition of strong is white men who oppress others to quench their own thirst.
The result of this dream sparkles in the minds of rich white folk, but for all left out of that category it barricades desires leaving only a minute, dull lifestyle. A lifestyle that caused Mrs. Hedges to transform her home into a whore house after being burned and spat out by the world she was circumstantially born into converting her into the piercing, snake lady; a lifestyle that turned Mr. Jones, the super, into a tall, solemn, devilish creature; one that turned Pop into a lonely alcoholic; turned Min into a shapeless, meek woman; Junto into a greasy, squat man; Boots Smith into a numb, angry, womanizing cat man filled with stealthy manipulative tendencies; and all the other faceless creatures of the street into dark shadows sliding along with resigned expressions. Money has kept all these people fearful and imprisoned. Lutie had said, “I don’t like mountains, I get the feeling they’re closing in on me” (Petry 160). The environment Lutie inhabits is always pressing in on her shoving out any sunlight, making her feel small, incompetent. She cannot escape this prison money has locked her in. All she can ever hope for is limited space and consuming darkness. This consuming darkness forces Bub to sleep with the light on in the lonely apartment, and grown men to stand outside Juntos bar staring into the light that warms the building leaving it secure and full of life. They stand staring into the lives they wish they could have, into the dreams they’ll never have the chance to fulfill. The kinds of jobs colored people receive cannot pay, or even come close to paying for anything more than the rent of a broken, dim apartment and measly quantities of food and clothing. All these people are merely just dark, shadowy figures “silhouetted against the light” (Petry 186).
People who weren’t worth anything to the rest of the world were shoved into crowded streets with decomposing buildings, and darkness creeping around the corners seeping into lonely apartments. No one living in these horrid environments could stand a chance against them; eventually the walls would press in to crush what’s left of their hopes. Money forced them to work petty, self-loathing jobs with long hours in order to scrape in just enough cash to pay rent. It kept them from building relationships or self-confidence. Everyone on the street is fighting for themselves alone in hopes of escape; the only relationships that exist are social contracts. The only goal is survival and these people will stoop to any level to make it out with their lives. Money turned Lutie Johnson, a caring mother and confident strong woman, into a wicked murder who deserted her son and ran from the law. It turned a young, happy Bub Johnson into an insecure, greedy, and dishonest boy. How can anyone possibly escape the street, when all it does is pull you back to remind you it is exactly where you belong?
Throughout life we are constantly moving. No matter which direction we move in we experience those moments of impact where we finally collide with all that we are and what we will become. They are the moments when everything falls together and the lesson to be learned is directly in front of us. Some learn to appreciate these moments while others flee from them. On the streets of Harlem people are always avoiding these moments, for none of them have the strength left to pick through the rubble. They’ve already suffered too much. The source: a fragile paper dollar. Money produces two kinds of people those who have it and those who don’t. The ones who have it become greedy and unappreciative stealing what they can by repressing the weak; those who don’t have it cannot afford to live period. If our lives are weighing heavy on a fragile paper dollar, what happens when the paper tears?
I have five kids. The house never seems to be organized. Toys, crayons, and other random things are everywhere. And no matter how hard my wife and I try; socks never get into the hamper. NEVER.
Even I contribute to the chaos. Sometime the dishes have to wait until the next day to get washed. Papers I need to grade sit on the island in our kitchen. Unread magazines pile up. Movies checked out from the library are clustered by the TV. (Sometimes my socks are still on the floor on my side of the bed the next night.) Life is messy.
I believe that learning is the same way, messy. Learning to walk is a repeated exercise in failure. A step, then a tumble. And not any simple tumble, but a crazy fall. And each tumble is different. One time straight down landing on their bottom, another time a 180 twist with a face plant.
This weekend we had our first “wall art” incident. Four walls covered in straight pen lines. Our family has gone through untold notebooks filled with scribbles. Hands, arms, and even church clothes have been scrubbed free of children’s artwork. Not to mention the mess kids make of the English language as they learn to read and write. Raising kids is a messy job.
But learning is a messy job too.
But almost every aspect of school fights against it. Rows of desk. Quiet. Bell schedules. Grades. Unit of studies that are soon forgotten by students.
Organized.
Clean.
But we are messy people. Our minds wander from thought to thought. Our bodies like to move. Think of how we get Spring Fever, especially with this nice weather. We doodle, we eat chips, we talk, and we laugh and cry. Our daily life is filled with all kinds of messy situations, and that is good. Many students’ say school is a prison. Maybe what they are saying is that they don’t get to be messy. They don’t get to express themselves as we all do in life.
As life would have it, I have been reading about the “Butterfly Effect” in a number of different types of books. None of them actually about the true nature of the Butterfly Effect which is connected to chaos theory (even though I feel like I am living out chaos theory at times). My reading material has been about the philosophy behind the idea, the power of a small action to create big effects somewhere else.
I bet life has shown you this effect. Whether it was an interaction at the store with a grumpy employee that ruined your day, or receiving a letter from a former student revealing that one moment that helped them later in life. The small moments make a difference.
To the chagrin of my wife, at the checkout stand I have been making up crazy answers to the ever present, “Did you find everything you we looking for today?” What I find so interesting is not the normal everyday conversation we engage in after my response, but that moment when the employee actually stops and stares at me… and then the smile appears.
Let’s say a butterfly’s wings can cause a tornado, but which flap of the wing caused it? Which moment set everything in motion? Why didn’t the butterfly’s wings cause a tornado five minutes earlier? We cannot predict life; we cannot predict which moment will cause the difference. And maybe that is why we forget the power of our everyday life.
Dirty diaper dropped into the diaper pail. Clean diaper secured. I stand my youngest daughter up so that I can get her pants pulled up in a single motion. She looks at me, spreading her arms out wide. I mimic her move. A single second passes before she falls toward me, trying to wrap her arms around my shoulders with all her strength. Her little hands just reaching my upper arms. I return the motion with my own arms, wrapping her tight against my chest. A giggle escapes her and we release our hug. I set her down on the floor and she is off to her next adventure (usually hollering out her big brothers’ names to see where they went).
Every morning I get my three-year-old daughter up for the day. She grabs her blanket as I lift her out of the crib. She then finds her spot on my shoulder. Her head snuggled into my neck and she whispers, “I take care of you.” Almost everyday I have to just stand there and hold her, knowing too soon she will be able to get up on her own.
If we take the time, we can see and feel those small moments when others tell us they love us. If we take the time, we can create a small “I love you” with an action that is just a part of our everyday routine. If we take the time… the smallest thing can have the most powerful effect in our lives. Take the time.
(This video is for my beautiful wife… remember our concert date?)
“Red light!” Jill looks over the kids. Jason is… falling. He is out.
You are frozen, waiting for the “light” to change.
“Green light!”
You take off, but not too fast, so you can stop with the light change. But your feet want to run, the light is still green. You are torn between letting your feet go, reaching the end before she turns around to change the light, or keeping your pace in control so you can freeze when the light turns back to red.
What color is the light in your classroom?
I recently showed the Ted talk, “Why Videos Go Viral” by Kevin Allocca, from a TEDYouth event. The main point of the talk is about why videos become popular, but Kevin makes an interesting point toward the end of his talk, “No one has to green-light your idea.”
Kevin was talking about creating content on YouTube, but the idea goes way beyond that. I would love to be a student during this time. The opportunities to create and pursues activities that ignite our passions are at our disposal.
And that is where I think educational reform needs to take place.
It is not in technology. It is not standardized tests. It is in turning around and hollering, “Green light!” The underlining paradigm of education needs to change. Students are creating projects and pursuing their dreams without us. They are finding their own way in this world, finding their own success.
Without us.
And I think that is the most important aspect of all of this. School should be the place that empowers students to be able to live their life to the fullest. School should be the place that strengths our society by build community and cultivating our culture values. And one of our most traditional values has always been the idea of success. It is the heart of the “American Dream.” And at this moment in time, we have a greater opportunity to pursue our dreams then ever before. But is school matching the possibility that is present in our society?
We need education to change the light to green.
I would love to hear your stories about how you have been changing the light in your school. Share your stories with me in the comment section.
I will acknowledge right off the bat that I know that I have a unique situation with my position at ESU 10, and that the greatest benefit I have is time. The second benefit is that I am surrounded by knowledgeable colleagues that are patient with me as I present some grand ideas.
And the grandest idea I have is that technology can empower teachers. I think technology can strengthen what teachers do best: teach.
Before I talk about the technology, let me address a deep philosophy of a classroom. Teachers are experts. Experts in many different fields to handle a classroom, but especially in their subject. But most of the time teachers have to rely on a textbook, a book of worksheets and assessments. Let alone the idea of standardized testing (that will be another blog). These tools are good tools, and many teachers fuse their expertise with these options to provide their students great lessons.
But what if the teacher produced more of the tools for their classroom? What if teachers actually got to showcase their expertise? What if teachers were empowered to do what they love? To teach. Imagine the energy and impact this would have on the students, the teacher, the school as a whole. Empowering.
Courtesy of Centura Student Angelica
One of the ways this can happen is the new iBook Author, from Apple, which allows you to create digital interactive textbooks. To be honest, this application is easy to use. The templates range from basic design to more creative layouts, but all one has to do is type and drag-and-drop files. Teachers can add their presentations right to a page. There is a question widget for student review and other cool options. Teachers can write their own textbooks.
Another interesting approach is web app development. What do students have with them at all times? Right…their cell phones. I know that they are not all smart phones, but more and more are. But a web app is designed to work on a web browser and as an app, so teachers can create content that bridges that gap. And it is getting easier to create web apps, whether you know how to program or not. iWebKit is a framework that I used to create my first study app for the book The Natural. You do need to know some basic programing but much of the time is spent on creating content because the code is provided. Even if you don’t know any programing, services like Wix Mobile allows you to create web apps with no coding.
Technology can empower teachers to produce more of the content of their classroom. Technology can change the dynamics of the role of a teacher back to what teachers love to do: teach.
I know this is a grand idea. For this to happen teachers need time, support, and the technology in their classroom. But I would rather struggle toward a grand idea then stay in place and wonder what could have been. And I am always willing to help if I can, because any struggle is easier together.
Technology and education have been at the forefront of my thoughts lately. Last week I got to be a part of a school’s discussion on moving to 1:1 instruction with the iPad for high school students. The teachers shared their concerns, their fears, and their excitement.
I remember being at that junction when I was a teacher at Centura. Yes, as an English teacher I worried about the loss of the book. I wondered how my position as the teacher would be affected in the classroom. Years later, I find myself teaching from an office through technology only.
Yesterday, I got to teach my American Literature class from Centura. It was energizing to be in front of the students. To have the room filled with laughter, with questions, with that energy that comes from a group of people working and sharing. Today, I am back at the office getting the lesson plan tweaked so we can use Socrative during the class.
One of the themes we are covering in the American Literature class is education. We have seen how Frederick Douglass educated himself by tricking street kids in writing contests. Frederick Douglass understood that education was one part of his path to freedom from slavery. Ralph Waldo Emerson revealed in The American Scholar that true scholars hold a powerful responsibility to our world, to reveal truth. Emerson also states that if nothing else, a true scholar has the ability to live and by truly living we learn. My favorite poet, Langston Hughes, stated in the poem “Theme for English B” that,
The instructor said,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it’s that simple? …
…It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page.
To simply state it; the message has been that true education is a reflection of ourselves and continues our entire lifetime.
But in class we are now reading The Street by Ann Petry. And the message has changed. The book expresses an idea that education is just something we go through to gain a better job that allows us to have more money. I’m not sure this doesn’t reflect what education is today.
And no technology will change that. As no pencil will change it either. Teachers have the power to change the view of education. And yes, tools like the iPad do empower teachers to make a difference, not just for the students, but also for their own love of learning. I’m excited as a teacher for the things I can produce with technology, like my own textbook, or a web app that will help my students learn.
So, why doesn’t my son get his iPod? Because he has been spending too much time with it and is in trouble of not making his A.R. goal this quarter. And it is my job to teach him the balance of using technology. As it is a responsibility of teachers to be that person who sparks real learning in students, as Langston Hughes writes,
I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write? Being me, it will not be white. But it will be a part of you, instructor. You are white— yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That’s American. Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me. Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that’s true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me— although you’re older—and white— and somewhat more free.
Truth be told, education makes us free and connects us on deeper levels than any Facebook statues update could. At the heart of learning we become the best of who we are.
Emerson states in the American Scholar “Life is our dictionary.” What are we helping our students write in their life?
In a 2008 study, “What We Regret Most … and Why,” by Neal J. Roese and Amy Summerville, it reveals that our top three regrets, in order, are Education, Career, and Romance. The research basically showed that we regret those opportunities where we could improve our life and that most of our regrets center on what we could have done. Not on what we did.
But why do we let those opportunities go by, both the small and life changing moments?
This morning I helped drop off my children at daycare and school. My second son and oldest daughter rode with me to their school. We got there before my wife, so we sat in the car and they wanted to play our version of “I Spy Alphabet” game. My first instinct was actually to not play, to be quiet and wait. A small moment (by the way Parenting is number four in the above study)… that I didn’t let go. We got to the letter L and laughed the whole time. The rule is to name something you see as you go through the alphabet. My daughter kept hollering out random things. As my wife pulled up “LION!” filled the car.
“Where?!” I hollered in mock surprise. We got out of the car laughing.
But there are big moments, life-changing moments. My current position places me at the edge of change. Technology is always improving, changing, and education is the most powerful aspect I know that positively affects our lives (and the number one regret for people).
Courtesy of Centura Student Angelica
Later this week I get the privilege of attending a teacher in-service for a school that is working on the idea of going 1:1. Last week I got to speak, as a dad and teacher, about my view of technology in education. I am still finding my feet in regards to expressing my philosophical views with my job. Every teacher I have ever had in class or worked with had their own talents. Even though I work with technology all the time, one of my personal goals for my job is to help teachers be at their best. Technology or not. Because the classroom, everyday, is one of the most powerful places in the world. I am proud to be a part of that moment for students, teachers, and education in general.
Education is the number one regret people have… our most powerful regrets are those things we didn’t do, especially with things that would make our lives better.
This post doesn’t have any answers; it is simply a small moment I had to share with you. To maybe plant a seed for your next moment in life, big or small, to not regret it.
things are everywhere. And no matter how hard my wife and I try; socks never get into the hamper. NEVER.
This weekend we had our first “wall art” incident. Four walls covered in straight pen lines. Our family has gone through untold notebooks filled with scribbles. Hands, arms, and even church clothes have been scrubbed free of children’s artwork. Not to mention the mess kids make of the English language as they learn to read and write. Raising kids is a messy job.
It is all Connected 