Caustically Optimistic

law and order: spritopias intent

There are few things I feel strongly about; one of them is how young writers are fostered in schools. During summer school I have been given the pleasure of proctoring the writing instruction and have been given a free hand to teach it as I will.

The students were to write an essay or story and have the story done by today so that they could be graded, recorded and reported in time for it to count for their promotion from summer school into their regular classes next year. Some of the students still have trouble realizing that we all have stories in us that need to be told so I encouraged the incorrigibles to write about something from their own lives, an experience they had or something that was important to them.

The stories were great despite earlier worries that they would not be and that I was not teaching them anything. Some were funny, some of them deeply personal, a couple of them were surprising and some were inappropriate for school. I really do cherish the fact that my students feel comfortable confiding in me but there are times that their mouths are saying one thing and my ears are hearing, "LIABILITY" and my attorney general Alex Vance appears in the spectral form preferred by Obi Wan Kenobi and reminds me that these are dangers I face on my own – even the Professors McGonagall at the University cannot save me.

Today's inappropriateness was exceptional in that the students confessed, in amazing detail, to crimes they had committed during the past year. I want to say that the one student is the criminal savant because this crime could have gone unsolved forever and no one would have suspected him, on face. If you know him then you also know to keep him in front of you and where you can see his hands. However, the whole "reading a story about it to the class with accomplices and Technicolor detail" puts him in the running for a Darwin Award and feature in the annals of the Ministry of Silly Walks. This child was certainly suspected of committing this crime because he is a snake – and in a world where most boys are squirrels or weasels he surpases his peers. Announcing his did it displays chutzpah, either that chronic poor judgment.

The other student's crime did not surprise me beyond sharing it in class. I have committed this crime to and would still commit this crime if my best friend was not a police officer. Committing this crime is a rush but really dangerous. I would never have thought this kid would have done something like this; it was truly shocking.

Also shocking was my desire to interrupt him and give him pointers on how to do better the next time and chastise his sloppiness. I had to reconcile my roles as a teacher and remind myself that coaching their criminal activity was not my job

Also shocking was my desire to interrupt him and give him pointers on how to do better the next time and chastise his sloppiness. I had to reconcile my roles as a teacher and remind myself that coaching their criminal activity was not my job.

Some people argue against the way that I teach writing. They prefer other methods, completely unsupported by research, and they are entitled to their opinions. I am confident, however, that this method of teaching is the only one that will get unsolicited confessions to criminal activity during class and that is hard to beat.

I handed in copies of their papers to Jack McCoy or crack administrator and have almost enough Republican in me to hand over their journals where they have been keeping as well. Normally I would view a student’s writing as sacrosanct but at the same time the students know that I think criminal activity needs reporting.

This evening when I was at Ashley’s with Gretchen, husbands, dogs and children we were discussing this – because we have these students in common – and one of Gretchen’s sons said, “I do bad things. I do stupid things. I’m not going to act like I don’t. I don’t write about them and then read them to the class.”

I’m glad I’m not as dumb as some of the kids and there are a lot of times when I wish I was as smart as some of the kids.

I just can’t seem to stop writing about the stupid and bad things I do.

old haunts

Graduate school has been very busy. I have been going to and planning barbeques, attending baseball games and getting sun burnt, catching up on nonacademic reading and relearning old skills like those used in Canasta. I would like to inform you that I have been busily engaged in scholarly pursuits but that is absolutely not the case. I am not ashamed that I have been spending my time playing cards with my mother and living off a liquid diet of snow cones, diet soda and the occasional Sam Adams Summer Ale. I have been doing a great deal of work, I really have but I have also had an inordinate amount of free time that has not been spent doing my real work: writing here.

One of the more fortunate aspects of graduate school, for me, is that I have turned to one of my old haunts – the college where I was an undergraduate – and with returning to my old haunt there are also old ghosts. Concordant to that is, this is also the most unfortunate parts of being in graduate school here – the old ghosts.

Certainly being granted an audience with Dr. Ashby was fantastic. Last weekend with my friend Amber was more excitement than I can normally bear and I am giddy to the point of being sick at the prospect of seeing my college debate partner this weekend. There are many old friends here that I am happy to see in person after relying exclusively on impersonal, electronic means of maintaining a friendship. I am not very good at keeping in contact with people, I feel as if I have nothing to say – which always ends up being a lie – but if I care I make the effort to at least accost you with a phone call, text message or email on occasion.

Many of these old ghosts remember me and I am in the unfortunate situation of not remembering who they are not having the class to solicit their name, I just say “hi” back and keep going. If they were important to me in the first place I would have remembered the person’s name and kept up with them. One such person encountered me in Wal Mart yesterday and I knew their name but could not be relied up to recount why I knew them or how, essentially I value attending the same college as another person as an icebreaker rather than the basis for a relationship, and I had no idea why I should know this person and kept trying to cut off the conversation and when all else failed I discarded all my breeding, training and maternal admonishment by simply walking away from the person who was speaking to me. Sarah Betrothed reminded me later, that I did indeed know the person talking to me and it was more by reputation than experience. After Sarah had jogged my memory that little bit I remember that I indeed remember that person and liked them not at all.

The other group of people that parallel this phenomena are people who I definitely do remember but where too cool to be seen with me as undergraduates, and now that they are also in graduate school and lonely I should somehow be thrilled to see them and waste time pretending as if we were friends now. Most of the time I act is if I simply do not know them because I figure that is much ruder than entertaining a conversation with them. When I am on campus I am too busy to take strolls down memory lane with people that were not worth mixing metaphors with before.

My college is populated by a very peculiar set of religious people who thrive on being judgmental and acting as if being in a relationship with them is some sort of privilege. I do not deny being judgmental, in fact I revel in the crapulence of my own hypocrisy but I do not camouflage myself with an aura of piety either. Oddly enough I do feel very privileged to have the friends that I do, but at the same time I do not waste my time with people who treat me as if they are giving me the charitable benefit of their society.

Dubya Moment

I am a terrible listener. I am in many ways a bad friend, but by far the worst thing about me is that I am a terrible listener. I collect the information people give me. I hear what they are saying but where I become a terrible listener is where I start to try and use the information that people have given me.

This is a problem at its worst when it comes time for me to be emphatic towards a problem in someone else’s life. I always try to equate it to a problem in my own life – which never works. Then I try to say something intelligent and funny, which always comes across as ludicrous instead of witty.

Yesterday was one such example when I told a friend, a very intelligent young woman:

So what, some retard with a boner from the pre-seminary program didn’t give you a ring from Wal-Mart. That does not reflect negatively on your worth as a person.

Let’s parse this for a moment.

Tone
Wicked harsh. I essentially tell this woman, “shut up, stupid.” When I meant to say, “Oh, it’s not that bad. Those boys are bargain basement to begin with.”

Language Choice
retard There are few words that show a more genuine lack of sensitivity than ‘retard.’

boner Who uses the word, “boner?” Who uses the word, ‘boner’ when talking to a girl, and during a serious conversation?

But, do not fear. I am sure this person felt much better about herself after talking me to me. I am sure she walked away thinking, “God, what an idiot,” and realized that she was indeed lucky not be saddled with one of us as well as lucky to be intelligent, intelligent enough not to talk about retards with boners

Cremation

This was written for my graduate class. I am posting it here to iron out the html issues, but also because I worked two days on it. I appreciate your comments but this is one instance when I am not interesting in negative comments about the content. I am addressing this paper to a group of future church leaders, not the general population. I value your opinions but sometimes we forget how rude our comments come across. If you are not up for a religious paper, meant to be one-sided, please skip this. I would prefer us to remain friends. This is also a draft.

Cremation

Cremation was the preferred method of disposing of a deceased person’s body in Antiquity, not just in the Greco-Roman world, but also in the Indus/Ganges, Yangtze, and African civilizations. The Egyptians are noted for their cleverness, but also for being the first culture to preserve bodies for the after-life.

Even today, cremation is the preferred form in Eastern religions (notably Hinduism and its derivative Buddhism) and is gaining ground in the monotheist religions of the West (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) as space in these areas becomes limited, monies becomes tight, and our rational for inhumation (burying the dead) is forgotten in the long march of time. Judaism has a protracted list of rules for dealing with the earthly remains of the deceased; Christianity inherited many of the mores of Judaism while disregarding much of the legalism. Christians today practice inhumation, although not exclusively, because of our belief in the resurrection of the dead.

The Greco-Roman world, and its paganism and general debauchery, is the frame of reference for Christians comparing their faith to a faithless world. In moving to separate themselves culturally from the secular world of the Romans, early Christians shunned cremation. Cremation involves the destruction, by fire, of a person’s remains. In our tradition, many equate fire with Satan since the scant description of Hades in the scriptures mention fire, lakes of fire, and the like. Certainly, the worldly pagans of the Greco-Roman world would spend eternity in the same flames to which their earthly bodies had been surrendered.

Fire is also used by the Lord, our God, he spoke to Moses and Elijah from burning bushes, the Hebrews were led by God from Egypt to Canaan by a pillar of fire, and Elijah was taken from us in a Chariot of Fire pulled by Horses of Fire. Bushes today claim to be spoken to by God as well. All things in creation are good when used for God’s good purposes and ultimately, Hades is eternal torture not because of flames or torments but because the souls there are separated from God, and God’s love.

However, my book, How Christianity Changed the World by Alvin Schmidt, chosen for self-selected reading denounces the practice of cremation on the grounds that it is contrary to God’s will. He bases his arguments on unsound scriptural grounds, as I will discuss later: neither Jesus, nor Peter or Paul discuss what is done with dead bodies nor prohibit any action. He also depends on historical references but admits that there is nothing that would prevent a soul whose body had been cremated from being resurrected. Later in this discussion the very clever, forward thinking Methodists answer the question of cremation deftly but in short: nothing limits the power of the Almighty.

Careful study of Scripture discovers no specific "thou shalt not” in connection with the practice of cremation and no specific “thou shalt” in connection with inhumation to bury a body in the ground. A careful scholar must conclude that that we, as Christians, have confused theology a religious theory, school of thought, or system of belief, doctrine a body of ideas, particularly in religion, taught to people as truthful or correct and tradition the body of Christian doctrines that are accepted as the teachings of Jesus Christ and the apostles without written evidence . We are teaching a tradition as a doctrine, when that practice is wholly inappropriate.

Neither cremation nor inhumation are opposed or advocated in Scripture, by Jesus or Saint Paul. Jesus and Paul both speak of inhumation exclusively but this attitude can be explained, in respect to other evidence or directed comment, to Jewish cultural norms and not a prohibition or acquiescence. Jesus may have freed us from the Law, and Paul may have ushered Gentiles into the church but they were both mindful of the political, social, and cultural ground they were treading and only departed from their demographic group’s comfort zone when it was instructive to their message.

The Christian scholar must then carefully consider how faith and culture interact within this issue. Cremation is distasteful to many Christians and is at least a traditional taboo (if not doctrinally or theologically); it is in direct contrast to the unique Christian idea of hope - specifically hope in the resurrection of the dead. This is an instance many protestants would frame this as a “Christ Against Culture” debate when really this is “Christ and Culture in Paradox,” since the former pits Christ and Culture against one another and the later puts them in a situation that seems like a contradiction, when it really is not. Cremation is not contrary to God’s will, it is merely contrary to our traditional sensibilities.

Several churches allows the practice of cremation, all prefer inhumation. The Roman Catholic Church, during the pontificate of John Paul II, changed the rules on cremation citing the conveniences of the practice and lack of Biblical prohibition. This change came in the United States in 1997 and is at the discretion of the Ordinary (bishop) in each diocese. This change was in effect in several European countries where cremation is an environmental and land-use concern. This change in policy came during the time that Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger was the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and President of the Pontifical Biblical Commission and a further change in policy is unlikely as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger is now serving as Pope Benedict XVI. Roman Catholic policy is instructive even to protestant Christians and denominations because they hold the conservative line on social issues and the practical issues of faith and life in the world. Also, as the faith home for most of the world’s faithful they overwhelmingly set the tone for what is, and is not, the Catholic Church’s position as well as the Church catholic.

The Roman Catholic Church, in their guidelines sent to Ordinaries, expresses concern that people be given time to grieve and sometimes the body is needed to do just that. Helner writes in American Catholic Update:

Mourners need sufficient time to remember and celebrate the life of the deceased; to begin to grow accustomed to the absence of a loved one. The Church wants to encourage families to take the time needed to say their good-byes, to encourage the grieving process.

The real issue here is to find and meet the needs of those mourning the deceased. One has to remember, in dealing with the dead, that what we do with their remains is not so much about them, but about us. Funerals are not held for the dead, but for the living. We celebrate the lives of those who have gone ahead of us and gain strength and reassurance in our faith from that process. The Roman Catholic church stresses a case-by-case examination of each event and the needs of those left behind. This is not an issue of scholarship when real people are involved.

The Methodist Church, the largest reliably counted protestant denomination in the United States and the world, also allows for cremation in their doctrines. Unlike Roman Catholic, or Lutheran statements (later discussed) the Methodists address the faith concerns of people considering this option:

_Our doctrinal statements, then, affirm the bodily resurrection of Jesus, indeed the resurrection of the same body that entered the tomb. But for believers, many of whose bodies over the past two thousand years may have entirely decomposed, if they were not burned, lost at sea, or otherwise destroyed, our statements speak simply of the resurrection of "the dead." This is consistent not only with biology, but also with the teaching of Paul in I Corinthians 15. There, Paul insists that resurrection is real, necessary, and more than a matter of revivifying dead bodies or remains. Instead, he speaks of a spiritual body that is raised of which our perishable, corruptible bodies are at most but the seed (see especially verses 35-49).
The United Methodist Church: Belief and Social Practices

The ever clever Methodists address not only theology but also biology. This shows that Christ and Culture in Paradox: both coexist and can act together. This practice is acceptable

The major Lutheran churches in the United States, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod (LCMS), both allow cremation as well. The ELCA has guidelines for cremation as well as organ donation, as the concerns with both issues deal in the resurrection of the body and LCMS states that there is no Lutheran position on the issue:

The LCMS has no official position on cremation. In their textbook on "Pastoral Theology" (used at our Synod's seminaries), LCMS Pastors Norbert H. Mueller and George Kraus explain why this practice, which used to be viewed negatively by the church, is now being viewed more favorably (or at least neutrally): "Not too long ago, the church viewed cremation negatively. Because the general public associated the practice with heathen religions and/or an attempt to disprove the possibility of the resurrection, Christians were reluctant to consider it. "In itself, the practice has no theological significance and may be used in good conscience. In fact, because of space limitations in some areas (e.g., West Berlin, England), and because of health considerations, cremation is increasing in favor. Cost, too, is a legitimate consideration, although the family considering it for this reason should be reminded that cost is saved only when there is no public viewing and, thus, no need for embalming and use of the visitation room."
www.lcms.org – Belief and Practice

Cremation is a part of our culture. More and more people, especially Christians, are becoming aware of the environment and environmental issues, land-use issues, and many are burdened with less than optimal financial situations. Today’s practice of cremation is a practical matter, in Antiquity it would have been an issue of Christ against Culture because pagan belief, not practicality, was the issue. Cremation happened because of pagan worship norms, and those norms continue on in the East today. Cremation today, in the West, happens because it makes sense in a cost/benefit analysis.

It could be argued that in today’s culture our pagan gods are cost-effectiveness, environmentalism, and expedience. We are overly concerned at times with cost/benefit analysis but the same arguments used against cremation on the cost/benefit side can be permuted to state that good stewardship of financial, time, and land resources is the issue. What is the best use of the gifts of time, the Earth, and finances that God has given us? These questions are what makes or breaks this issue.

Fundamentally, this issue exists in paradox because it is contrary to our tradition, but can coexist with our theology and doctrines. We are by no means required to do either, but we can do whichever makes sense in our individual situations. The Bible neither endorses nor prohibits cremation or inhumation.

Beliefs and Social Issues: Cremation and Organ Donation The United Methodist Church website, (http://archives.umc.org/interior.asp?ptid=1&mid=1383) accessed last April 12, 2006.

Biography of his Holiness, Pope Benedict XVI The Vatican webpage, (http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/biography/documents/hf_ben-xvi_bio_20050419_short-biography_en.html) accessed last April 12, 2006

Cremation The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, website, “Belief and Practice” (http://www.lcms.org/pages/internal.asp?NavID=2124) accessed last April 12, 2006

Helner, Fran. Cremation: New Options for Catholics. American Catholic Update, website edition, (http://www.americancatholic.org/Newsletters/CU/ac1097.asp) accessed last April 12, 2006

statistics

My class for this six-week quarter is Research Design. I am still reading the introductory chapters in my textbooks wherein they state the obvious. They should have two classes tacked onto any program of study for a Master’s in Education: Stating the Obvious to the Oblivious and Complaining about No Child Left Behind. Hopefully, this class will be better then the last in that respect. I think we can move past the bi-partisan folly of NCLB.

Ultimately, however I have solved the most important question of them all: what happens to socks when they disappear in the dryer. I do not need to be lectured or read about how to do principled, authentic, academic research. I make things up fine enough on my own.

Due to my research, we all know that Central Intelligence Agency has a portal in every dryer in America where in the agency takes a random survey of who is doing what, based on our socks and the information we leave there. When the Agency is done with the socks, they stuff them into the couch in my classroom where the children argue over who they belong to until I scream, “FOR THE LOVE OF KOALAS, JUST THROW IT OUT.” That is the only reasonable explanation for the missing socks and why they end up in my classroom couch.

I was thinking about this during Mass and when I tuned back in during the homily the pastor was talking about how it takes eighty thousand bees flying around the world three times to make enough honey for a plastic bear full. I had just read an article in the Atlantic Monthly where they gave the technical term for people who come up with those statistical statements. In my day, we just called them nerds. Those quantifications are always absurd to me, “moving all the troops and supplies to Saudi Arabia for the first Gulf War was the equivalent of moving the entire state of Alaska.” Which it was not – if we had moved Alaska to Saudi Arabia, the Republicans would have already drilled all the oil in that nature preserve.

In viewing those statements as absurd, I feel it important that I learn how to make them myself so that I can litter my research project with them. I really do not think that I should need a great deal of math to bring these enumerations to life - I will bet on the fact that no one will question me. In fact, it would take seventeen graduate students, using thirty six pencils a day for forty days and forty nights just to figure out that I was chock full of crap let alone the seven PhDs working round the clock for three years, each using an abacus (I know not the plural of abacus, abaci? ) to figure out where I was wrong in my math and reasoning.

B.F. Skinner Came to Dinner

I have been working my tuchis off on my homework for my graduate class. This week we had a major project due and so I slacked on my weekly reading assignments. Normally, I really throw myself into my readings because I want to squeeze everything I can out of school but this week I threw it together. Each week I have gotten a low “B” on my work and this week, when I expended no effort, I got an “A.” I am sure students around the world have had a similar experience but getting a B in my world is an F, although I have lived by the mantra that, “a “D” means never taking that class again.”

I am wondering if this class will make me a better teacher or not. I do know that it is not making me a better student. Not to be conceited, but I am one of those for whom school is effortless. I can pass without effort and if the class does not pique my interest or challenge me, I go on autopilot, get my “A” and go home. I wanted Graduate School to be different but I am afraid that I will slip into my old habits and get very little out of this.

This week’s topics included behaviorism (pros and cons) and I come out of that experience realizing that my discipline plan is heavily influenced by Alfie Kohn. My professor is elated because so far I have not been a fan of any of the theorists we have studied and less a fan of the philosophers we have been reading. I have decided that teaching is bogus and I should be a philosopher – because what does a philosopher do that I do not already do? Very little, the big difference is that they are paid to observe and report on humanity and I do it for the laughs that I coerce out of people. Essentially, Aristotle was a blogger without the Internet.

I am also very glad my parents were into Alfie Kohn’s ideas when I was being raised. Yes, the Major, and the Mrs. were that involved as parents to have an articulated plan for the care and feeding of me. My mother’s sister always says that my parents were too strict with me when I was growing up, that they did not nurture my self-esteem enough. She says this as her sex-offenders in training – fifteen years my junior – run naked through public areas, ask my friends if they have pubic hair, and shout their racist jokes in crowded New Haven restaurants.

For those of you behind on the math, that makes the oldest one twelve and New Haven is the Capital of American Liberalism, Open Mindedness, and Academia – not exactly appropriate. Had they been three and at a Klan meeting, this would have been acceptable.

I was doubly embarrassed by that incident because it happened in the town where Golf Widow and L’ Empress live and I would have hated to be seen with my family if they graced the scene. While they might dispute New Haven’s wonderful qualities, they also have never lived in Louisville, Kentucky, or Lincoln, Nebraska – so my love of the New Haven area is clearly one of respect and perspective. Comparable to other areas of the country, New Haven is Mecca.

I offered to get my mother a pocketknife for Christmas so that the next time her sister said something like that to her, she could out her sister’s tongue. Mom said that would only go to prove her sister’s point. I offered that she would never able to make that point again. My mother pointed out that: brandishing weapons, while the norm in Kentucky (where she lives), is still not lady-like and she declined. Say what you will about me, I keep my clothes on in public, shy away from personal questions and do not loose the “n” word in mixed or cloistered company.

That having been said, my homework for this week was done before noon (the new week starts Monday) and I had the afternoon off from both jobs and school. I used it to clean the apartment (you cannot even tell) and the hardest decision I have made all day was whether I wanted the Beef with Scallions or the Empress Chicken. I ordered the beef.

Grad School Ain't Easy

Whoever said, “Pimping ain’t easy,” did not go to Graduate School.

I am not overwhelmed by the work or requirements. The rest of my life has been crushed by the demands of it, with the exception of my teaching. My students still occupy most of my attention and time, but this master’s degree is more for them than it will ever be for me.

My big frustration for the week was mastering Power Point, Excel, and Photoshop and make them work together to make a project that would ‘shock and awe’ my classmates – since peer review is a critical component of any graduate program. My sister/roommate/nemesis reviewed my project for errors or areas of misclarification (word courtesy of the Bush Administration’s Office of Vocabularisms and Grammacrobatics).

I owned Power Point. I rocked Excel. I made my Photoshop my personal servant. The file was almost too big to submit to the University’s servers and is too big to be posted on the class’ discussion board. I guess it is okay, I did not have permission to use most of the images I used anyway and my constant references to The People’s Republic of California, and the Soviet of Massachusetts was bound to offend someone in my class. I tend to offend most of the people in any class I end up enrolling in. I keep forgetting that the University is not the place where you find an academic discussion or a safe haven for challenging assumptions about the world. That happens some place else.

I guess I am the only one who knows the secret Ninja moves from the Government.

I also steadfastly argue for full points on all assignments – I will be lucky to get a C at my rate of mediocrity. When I can get my assignments done on time they are terrible or the servers are uncooperative. When I do not get them done it is because I teach the single most labor intensive set of children I have ever known – and in the rare instance that someone is not labor intensive they have anal retentive parents.

I have one child this year that is making me miserable, along with this equally crazy parents. This woman showed up in my classroom and berated me in front of the students because not only to I have Harry Potter, Artemis Foul, the Lord of the Rings and the complete works Madeline L’Engle on my bookshelf but I am also taking the children (who read the book and want to go with their parents permission) to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Quickly, professionally and so you could not see my hands move, I extracted her head from her ass, handed it to her and pushed her out the door.

Mr. Potter is leaving my classroom. Mr. Potter is leaving my classroom right over my dead body. She has turned a discussion that could have been practical and professional into a matter of pride and primacy in my classroom. I am in charge there and I make the rules. Also, because she was so kind about her opposition to the kids seeing the movie, I have started a push to get every other kid in the class through that book so they can go. I will read it to them myself or draw it into a comic book if need be. Everyone else is reading the book and going out to eat.
I say this to everyone: when you find an eight hundred page book in British English that kids will fight over, please let me know. As it stands now the only real magic about Harry Potter is that he gets kids to read. Also, every parents who is opposed to Harry Potter being in my classroom also fails to sensor anything else in their child’s lives. They watch, listen to, or read whatever else they want not to mention the video games they are playing. I am not one for censorship but if you are going to be a fascist, be a fascist. Do not be half-assed about your left-wing thought control.

My students have one unifying and bizarre quirk this year in that they have rallied all the children on the playground to shout up to my apartment in the cloister (which faces the aforementioned playground) until my sister appears at a window and waves to them like the Pope. I am just glad we have no balcony, she would probably sing them, “Don’t Cry for Me, Stepford Children.” At the very least, she can feel like a rock star because she cannot leave her house during the daytime without being mobbed by a crowd of little people screaming her name.

As experts in the field, we need to take back the field

Today in class Dr. J M-R said that, “As experts in the field, we need to take back the field,” which is true but when she said it she waved her arm in the air and growled like a Wookie or gave a battle cry. I cannot tell which, but this demure, professional woman who I have never seen wearing pants or flats, gave a battle cry that would scare characters played by Mel Gibson, Samuel L. Jackson, and the Governor of California in quality action films.

This time the gamble paid off.

written as a free-write, stream of consciousness, journal for English 521 – Teaching Writing K-12.

I went to Seward’s new Chinese restaurant last weekend with a pair of my cohorts and I was a little nervous. I have said it before: you are taking a leap of faith when you enter into an unknown Chinese restaurant. It is on the short list of things I do that I actually regret later and reflect “it seemed like a good idea at the time.” This time the gamble paid off.

Seward has grown a great deal since I was last here – and paying attention to it. I came back for a job interview. I was not really interested in the job and my heart was not in it. Well, they were fifteen minutes late picking me up from the airport and that put their professionalism in question for me in such a profound way that I think I may have taken myself out of the interview process subconsciously.

Hemmingway

Written for English 521
When I write, or speak, about writing I tend to defer to Ernest Hemmingway because he is my favorite authors and one of the few people to marry technical proficiency to the ability to tell a good story and then turn around and write out his advice to developing authors.

There are many reasons I admire Hemmingway but it boils down to, with the exception of The Old Man and Some Body, Please Shoot Me, I enjoy everything that he has written – even if I cannot finish Islands in the Stream.