Blog surfing

January 29, 2009 at 5:45 pm (Writing)
Tags: , , ,

It’s been one of those weeks where I haven’t had a lot of work, but I’ve got a wicked cold; all the projects I’ve been saving didn’t even get started.  What I have been doing is surfing the internet, which is not something I generally do for hours at a time.  Now that my brain is coming out of its oxygen-deprivation fog, I’m starting to put things together.

I like surfing the internet.

More specifically, I like surfing blogs.  Web pages can be fun, but they lack a) the depth of books, and b) the sensory experience of books; I’d much rather surf the library.  But blogs, well, blogs are personal.  They have can cover  the same things a journal can cover, but people don’t let me read their journals, so I have to trade the good smell of paper and ink  for the extraordinary experience of getting into someone’s mind.

Why, I wonder, will people write something on the internet for all to see, but seal that same information up with lock and key should it be written on paper?

Being the introvert that I am, I prefer reading someone’s writing to speaking to them face-to-face.  When reading, I have leisure to re-read parts, skip parts, devour and digest, wait until I’m able to pay proper attention to what is being said.  Blogs are perfect, in that people only post what they want to show the world, and the world absorbs it in its own good time.  No censorship, no waiting for agents or publishers, no influence other than the writer’s.

Blogs also have these wonderful linking features (I’m just starting to play with mine, because Luddites must take things very slowly or else the rage becomes too much).  When I find a blog I really like, I can trust most of that writer’s links to be things of interest to me.

There’s a little ball of blog-stuff festering at the back of my mind.  Using blogs to teach writing skills is likely to be much more useful to the average teenager than essays about Pride and Prejudice.  Blogs are much more interesting, and therefore it will be easier to convince the little critters to do the work.  They can even blog about math, if they like, because, as I said, I can take my own time reading it (while ingesting chocolate to soften the blow).

I’m glad the Luddite in me didn’t smash the machine before I discovered blogs.

Leave a Comment

Neil Gaiman has mad skills

January 27, 2009 at 2:48 pm (Reading, education)
Tags: , , ,

I love the way Neil Gaiman puts words together.

I don’t like sci-fi/fantasy; I have a hard enough time dealing with the realities of this world, much less those of someone else’s make-believe world.  However, the rest of Neil Gaiman’s books are just wickedly brilliant, and if I don’t like the story I can just snuggle down into the sounds of the words.

So, if this guy is winning Newbery awards, why aren’t we using his books to teach English literature?  What’s the sense in having Newbery awards if we ignore them?

Leave a Comment

My newest puzzle

January 27, 2009 at 2:31 pm (education)
Tags: , ,

Just as I mourn the loss of my triplets, my newest source of entertainment walks into my classroom.  My brilliant employer tells me this student has “cognitive processing”… a good thing, or there is not much use in me working with him;  I believe the term “delay” was left out of there.

“Puzzle” is in Grade 11, but reads and writes like he’s in grade 2.  He’s going to a private school, because he achieved absolutely nothing in the public system.  He can’t work with too many people around him.  He has no interests other than driving cars and convincing people he’s not stupid.  There are some health problems, too (eating disorder), and some cultural barriers (his parents don’t speak English, and don’t really want to admit there is a learning disability).  The other student I had with a processing delay of this magnitude had the advantage of looking like he fell off Mount Olympus; Puzzle has nothing to win him the good graces of society.

Here is where I regret not being trained in learning disorders.  I can give Puzzle coping strategies (which was fun, because he actually smiled when I told him he could take 10 minutes to answer a question if he bloody well felt like it, and there is nothing wrong with typing); I can help him practice reading and writing so they’re not the heinous tasks they are to him now; I can work on boosting his little ego so he has the confidence to try new things.  I can’t fix his brain.  I don’t even know the fastest way to make his life easier: I just play around until we find something that works.  I realise this is the method of education I want for all my students, but it’s frustratingly inefficient for me.  Where do I find courses on dealing with cognitive processing delays?

I see this kind of learning disorder a lot.  For me, it’s fascinating, because I get to see the kids come to understand how their brain works, and that they are “unique” rather than “stupid”.  It would be nice, though, if the parents would accept the learning disorders a little earlier than 11 years into the child’s schooling, so the student could spend more time learning than covering up their inabilities.

Why do we equate “slow” with “stupid”?  Why can Walaikum not accept mediocrity?  Why does one have to have neat, cursive handwriting to get a decent job?

What species of animal took it upon themselves to redefine “animal” in a way which cannot be universally achieved?

1 Comment

Marshall McLuhan fails

January 22, 2009 at 4:51 pm (Uncategorized)
Tags: ,

What Global Village?????

I don’t think Marshall McLuhan ever made it to China.

My students in China are easily surprised, and I’m getting used to it.  However, this week’s culture shock involved a) There are Chinese people in Canada? and b) You’ve eaten Chinese food?

There are over 400 000 Chinese people living in Toronto.  In Mississauga alone, I have my choice of two Chinese malls, not to mention all the individual stores.

I’ve eaten enough Chinese food to have eaten a selection of terrible Chinese food, as well as a selection of exquisite Chinese food and a large assortment of mediocre Chinese food.  My mother prepared Chinese meals on a weekly basis, and I will cook it for special occasions (not counting the assimilated stir-fry, of course).

Thirty years of being “open” seems to have been purely mono-directional.

Leave a Comment

A Janus moment

January 20, 2009 at 4:25 pm (Uncategorized)
Tags: , ,

Sometimes, I do the Janus thing. Part of me wants to be respectable, civilised, etc. while the other parts want to be the long-haired hippie type I think I was really meant to be.  Bear with me….

Caveat: my kids are still getting their education now (so if you two are reading this you can just forget it).

Edict: Forcing teenagers to get their education at this age is a stupid thing.

When did we decide to make kids do things, even if they don’t want to do them?  What adults are forced to spend four years doing something they don’t want to do, with no options?  If an adult doesn’t like his/her job they have options of other jobs, going back to school, even using social assistance.  If a teenager doesn’t like high school, why can’t they get a job, or study something of their own choosing, or use social assistance?

If age seven is considered the Age of Reason, why don’t we permit  them to “reason” until they’re 19?

A lot of people have written a lot of books telling discouraged parents how to survive their children’s adolescence.  Anthony Wolf is one of those people.  He may very well have the necessary qualifications to do this, but that doesn’t mean his ideas will work for everyone.  His latest article in the Globe and Mail has some nice platitudes, but one sentence rankled me to no end:  “But don’t think their efficiency will ever rival those from that other planet.”

It would be nice if everyone was as efficient as I am (but no more so, please, unless it’s convenient for me).  I do expect adults to maintain a certain level of efficiency, particularly if they are being paid to be efficient.  Someone who is being forced to do something they don’t want to do, with no recompense… I am certainly not inclined to be efficient when I end up in that situation.

Wolf also suggests parents “stick with the plan” to make their adolescent study.  This is smacking, just a little, of a master/slave relationship: persist, and eventually your slave’s will is broken.

Would it not make life easier for everyone if we allowed the children who don’t want to study to do something different?  Would it not make for a better education if the student was learning voluntarily?  Would it not make for a happier planet if the student could choose what they wanted to learn?  I can assure you, there is absolutely no pleasure in “sticking with the plan” to make a mathematically-inclined person analyse English literature.

I want to set them free.  I want to take all the students who are bored silly with high school and let them work, be apprentices, live off the land, whatever they want.  Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will set you free in a civilised, democratic society because it doesn’t have to be this way.  You are free to make your own mistakes, and learn differently from the way I learn.

Leave a Comment

Auf wiedersehen, adieu

January 19, 2009 at 7:02 pm (Uncategorized)

A drawback to the semester system is that I lose my tutored students fairly quickly: this generally isn’t a long-term investment in the student’s education.

So long, my favourite triplets.

Bob, I am not worried about.  He is articulate, and fairly capable in writing.  Once he understood the elements of essay writing, he pretty much took off on his own flight.  He has a few grammar problems, but nothing which will bring his mark down drastically.

Salaam will never understand why people use words, much less use them to do something ridiculous like analyse literature, but he can at least get his point across in an essay now.  His final essay is short, straight to the point, and formulaic.  He will get his 80% in order to get into university, and will celebrate well when he finishes his last English class.  While I sympathise with his frustration (I can’t imagine having to take, say, four years of physics classes), it’s temporary, and he will survive.

Walaikum….  My maternal instincts are telling me to bundle him into a Snugli and keep him there until he’s finished high school.  The boy hasn’t slept in weeks, and is ranting because his last assignment was marked out of 10, and he only got a 9: this means his mark was only 90%.  We had a little chat about relativity and perspective; I got nowhere.  We had a little chat about relaxing, which almost got me nowhere until I pointed out he wouldn’t do his best if he was deprived of sleep and food.  He explained he was doing this because his father expected perfection, but I also know Walaikum expects the same perfection of himself.  He wouldn’t be happy in the Snugli.

This is going down in my journal for  posterity, as no one will likely believe one of the most formative moments in my career was watching three fledgling engineers read a book.

Leave a Comment

Monsters in our closets

January 12, 2009 at 4:44 pm (Uncategorized)
Tags: , , , ,

What with all of my non-literate students suddenly becoming “Twilight literate”, I’ve been thinking about monsters a lot.  My students have also been thinking about monsters, so getting them to do research projects is becoming really easy: remind me to send Stephenie Meyer a thank-you note.

One student has gone so far as to read Wuthering Heights because it was mentioned in Eclipse, and she wanted to see if Heathcliff could be a vampire.

My daughter, firmly in the grasp of the vampire-wannabe culture, read Pete Hautman’s Sweetblood, which started her researching the causes of the myths.  She’s finding it interesting, and has started looking at her diabetic father in a different light.

In China, vampires and werewolves are not a popular subject of discussion amongst teenagers, even though they both exist in legend and myth; ghosts are the supernatural entity of choice.  While all Chinese teenagers are really quite interested in the ghost stories, it is only the “uneducated” who would be seen with a book on the subject.  Ghost movies are alright though, as you are then deliberately taking a break from your studies, so it’s fine to take a break from all the truly important things in life.

Ghosts aren’t important?

Seems to me, if you believe they exist, you would wanna know about them, no?  Whatever….

Anyway, my Chinese students frequently ask me to tell them a ghost story, and we tend to “study” Halloween beginning in August and ending the minute I make them switch over to the Christmas stuff.  It doesn’t seem to matter what the culture may be, there is certainly an age where students become interested in checking out all the horrible things parents don’t want them to know about.

The monsters we create, they are just aspects of humans and our world.  Why can’t the supernatural truly exist?  Because it is nothing which doesn’t already exist in nature, and such things cannot be re-made as something more than what it is.  The stories we write about our monsters have such a fierce resemblance to real life it makes me sad: ghosts are not the only creatures to experience uncontrollable rage; Frankenstein’s monster is not the only son unloved by his father; one does not have to be an immortal vampire to become lonely from living too long.

I love using myths and legends to teach literature; perhaps we should be using them to teach history, as well.

Leave a Comment

Huh, I was wrong

January 7, 2009 at 2:49 pm (education)
Tags: , ,

When I was twenty, I knew everything.  When I was twenty-five, I knew somewhat less; at least, I realised what I didn’t know.  One wouldn’t think I’d still be surprised to realise there is something else I don’t know.

Formerly, everyone was better off with one-on-one teaching or tutoring.  No matter the situation.  No exceptions.  Not up for discussion.

Now (one can see where this is going, no?)…  about two-thirds of my students really need one-on-one.  They are having problems in English, for many reasons, and need the constant attention to orient their brains around the concepts and words.  Everything needs to be hashed out, and picked apart.  They have detailed question after detailed question, and the explanation needs to answer only what is asked in that question.

The remaining third is, without a doubt, better off when there are other people in the room.  Some of the students prefer having others of the same age/level, so they can discuss the same subjects if not the same texts; they like to toss ideas back and forth, letting each idea grow and evolve a little before they accept it. Others seem to prefer someone of an entirely different level, so they don’t really have to pay attention to the other conversations, but they don’t have the intensity of one-on-one; these students tend to work laboriously, popping their head up every once in a while to ask a question.  Still others don’t seem to care who is in the room, they just want background noise, and the occasional conversation to distract them from a difficult task.

I’m not sure why I stuck to my universal one-on-one theory for so long.  Certainly a general ego-centrism was involved: I don’t like having people around when I learn - go away, and leave me alone with my books! When I teach, I like my groups very small, because I feel like I’m missing things when there are too many people talking and thinking.  (No matter how old I get, I don’t think I’ll ever be convinced 33 is a good class size.)

I suppose this works something along the lines of requiring music while one studies: true extroverts are not going to be content and able to focus on the work if there isn’t the noise and energy wafting around them.

Understanding the learning styles was fairly easy, even understanding the learning styles which were not mine.  Understanding extroverts may prove a little more difficult….

Leave a Comment

Malcolm Gladwell succeeds again.

January 5, 2009 at 2:52 pm (Creativity, education)
Tags: , ,

I like Malcolm Gladwell; I usually agree with what he thinks, and even if I don’t, he writes so well I can understand his point of view.

I really like his article, Most Likely To Succeed.    While reading it, I kept thinking about the education system in North America, and why we need mentors.

I think I’m going to re-write David Berger’s book, but I’ll call it The Power of the Vaguely Oval Shape and the Wiggly, Broken Line.

Leave a Comment

Mentors

January 4, 2009 at 11:32 pm (education)

I was given a copy of David Aubrey Berger’s The Power Of The Circle for Christmas; I’ve read it before, but didn’t have a copy of my own.  It’s a brilliant book (I’ve gone on and on about it many times before), but one point has really struck me with this reading: teachers and mentors.

I was trying to explain, the other day, the difference between “teacher” and “mentor” to one of my students.  It was amazingly difficult (the Chinese language, by the way, does not differentiate between the two; is this limiting or logical?).  What is rattling around in my brain is this: I’ve had many teachers, good and bad and in-between, all of whom have contributed to my life significantly.  I wouldn’t be who I am without any of those teachers.

Mentors are a different thing; I’ve had only one who fits the traditional definition.

dictionary.com defines “mentor” as, “1. a wise and trusted counselor or teacher”.  Actually, when I think about it, very few people would have thought him “wise”, but I did.  “Trusted”, “counselor”, “teacher” – he was certainly all of these.  Apparently, he saw something in me I couldn’t see, and wouldn’t see for some years.  After he had a breakdown (several -nervous, marital, vocational, etc.), and he left his position as a high school art teacher to move to British Columbia to flounder for several years, he continued to kick-start me by means of letters.  Sometimes I would be the recipient of a polite little note in which he wondered how I had been, and sometimes I would be the victim of 18 pages of violent literary instructions.  In either case, I would suddenly be inspired to write.

My mentor died several years ago, but he still drops into my dreams occasionally, or leaves my journal and a pen on the table just when I need to write.  I don’t know that I can hold him responsible for arranging for Simon and Garfunkel songs to be played on the radio, but I do suspect he’s behind this, too.

Why was he better than a teacher?  What’s the difference between what a teacher can achieve and what a mentor can achieve?  I think, because one has to “click” with a person before they can be a mentor, mentors are friends.  This gives them more leeway, more chances to make mistakes and be forgiven for those mistakes.  My mentor often pushed to the point where I was angry with him, but he knew what I needed: how my writing should change to give me pleasure from it; when I was tackling something from entirely the wrong direction; when I was swallowed whole by reality (especially when my children were very young) and I required the fantasy.

There were several teachers who actively encouraged my writing.  Some of them were even helpful.  But no one made my writing breathe and grow like my mentor did.

I am a teacher.  There are many teachers in the world.  There aren’t too many mentors.  I think I’d like to be a mentor, and I look forward to the day when I can kick-start some person who doesn’t realise exactly what they’re leaving to die.

I’d also like to think I would have another mentor.  Perhaps that’s a little greedy… I’d better hope for many more teachers.  I don’t see that as settling, in any way.

Leave a Comment

« Older entries