It was lunch time. I was sitting with the teachers, we were joking, telling funny stories, watching kids and laughing.
A boy approached the table with some caution and a big grin. He said to me, "Mr. Shorb, it's so good to see you happy! You don't laugh very much, and it's just really good to see you having such a good time over here!"
Of course, this got me laughing even more. "Well thank you. It's a heartwarming sight, huh? You're heart is warmed?"
"Definitely. I'm really happy for you."
What a sweetheart. Not sure what it says about me, but it was nice for him to notice. Good empathy!
On the way to recess, I did my little jump-and-a-kick-of-the-heels move back and forth all the way down the path, yelling "I'm happy!" over and over. The class thought this was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. They started laughing uncontrollably and screaming and running towards the playground in a fit of glee.
It was all kind of nice.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
On Taking Kids to the Movies: A Retraction
Those reviews and articles I linked to had me thinking an awful lot. Then it dawned on me as I drove to work, that I was worrying about a question no one was asking.
Some movie reviewers had me convinced that parents are really worried about what movies their kids see, dragging me into a debate on what's appropriate for children and what's not. While that might be somewhat more of the case in Christian circles, it finally dawned on me that very few parents are losing sleep over the matter. (Maybe the debate was just wishful thinking?)
Year after year, I'm continually surprised which movies my 10 and 11 year old students are seeing. Of course, all the girls are seeing the Twilight movies, and in the recent past all the boys have said The Dark Knight is their favorite. Then there were the two boys last year who were giggling about what they saw in Tropic Thunder.
I did a quick poll of my classroom after this realization. Of the 16 kids present, 10 went to the movies. Three saw New Moon, three saw Blind Side, three saw Old Dogs, and one saw Fantastic Mr. Fox. Not all that informative, but I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
If parents are worried about Where the Wild Things Are or Fantastic Mr. Fox, I would venture to say it's not because of frightening or inappropriate content (because what could be more frightening than the Joker in Dark Knight?!), it's probably because the movies are outside of their typical box, and they're left trying to make sense of it all.
Yes, both movies are probably targeted moreso towards adults, and that's probably what sparked this entire debate anyway, but then we're forgetting that so are most of the allegories and metaphors and rich themes within quality children's literature (like The Phantom Tollbooth, which I'm going to praise here very soon). That's what plumbs the depths of a young person's imagination and keeps them ready to learn, reaching for more.
The real issue here is not over-protective parents (although that's an interesting and pertinent conversation for another time). The issue is our discomfort with the blurry line between what's for kids and what's for adults. It's not as clear as we want it to be, and we haven't gotten used to the fact that something can very easily be for BOTH at the SAME TIME, even without resorting to slapstick comedy or sexual innuendos.
Cue CS Lewis:
"To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."
And this will be the last word I have to say on the topic. Promise.
Some movie reviewers had me convinced that parents are really worried about what movies their kids see, dragging me into a debate on what's appropriate for children and what's not. While that might be somewhat more of the case in Christian circles, it finally dawned on me that very few parents are losing sleep over the matter. (Maybe the debate was just wishful thinking?)
Year after year, I'm continually surprised which movies my 10 and 11 year old students are seeing. Of course, all the girls are seeing the Twilight movies, and in the recent past all the boys have said The Dark Knight is their favorite. Then there were the two boys last year who were giggling about what they saw in Tropic Thunder.
I did a quick poll of my classroom after this realization. Of the 16 kids present, 10 went to the movies. Three saw New Moon, three saw Blind Side, three saw Old Dogs, and one saw Fantastic Mr. Fox. Not all that informative, but I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
If parents are worried about Where the Wild Things Are or Fantastic Mr. Fox, I would venture to say it's not because of frightening or inappropriate content (because what could be more frightening than the Joker in Dark Knight?!), it's probably because the movies are outside of their typical box, and they're left trying to make sense of it all.
Yes, both movies are probably targeted moreso towards adults, and that's probably what sparked this entire debate anyway, but then we're forgetting that so are most of the allegories and metaphors and rich themes within quality children's literature (like The Phantom Tollbooth, which I'm going to praise here very soon). That's what plumbs the depths of a young person's imagination and keeps them ready to learn, reaching for more.
The real issue here is not over-protective parents (although that's an interesting and pertinent conversation for another time). The issue is our discomfort with the blurry line between what's for kids and what's for adults. It's not as clear as we want it to be, and we haven't gotten used to the fact that something can very easily be for BOTH at the SAME TIME, even without resorting to slapstick comedy or sexual innuendos.
Cue CS Lewis:
"To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."
And this will be the last word I have to say on the topic. Promise.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
On Taking Kids to the Movies
Got to see Fantastic Mr. Fox, and it was indeed fantastic, and there will be more on its way here, and like every single movie reviewer in America is pointing out whether they have anything insightful to say about it or not, there are a lot of interesting parallels with Wild Things.
But that's not the point right now, the point is this quote from Roger Ebert's 3 1/2 star review:
"Children, especially, will find things they don't understand, and things that scare them. Excellent. A good story for children should suggest a hidden dimension, and that dimension of course is the lifetime still ahead of them. Six is a little early for a movie to suggest to kids that the case is closed. Oh, what if the kids start crying about words they don't know? -- 'Mommy, Mommy! What's creme brulee?' Show them, for goodness sake. They'll thank you for it. Take my word on this."
And this one from A.O. Scott:
"Is it is a movie for children? This inevitable question depends on the assumption that children have uniform tastes and expectations. How can that be? And besides, the point of everything Mr. Anderson has ever done is that truth and beauty reside in the odd, the mismatched, the idiosyncratic. He makes that point in ways that are sometimes touching, sometimes annoying, but usually worth arguing about. Not everyone will like 'Fantastic Mr. Fox'; and if everyone did, it would not be nearly as interesting as it is. There are some children — some people — who will embrace it with a special, strange intensity, as if it had been made for them alone."
And while you're at it, read this worthwhile article by Scott, as he's saying most of things I'm trying to think and can't tie together.
But that's not the point right now, the point is this quote from Roger Ebert's 3 1/2 star review:
"Children, especially, will find things they don't understand, and things that scare them. Excellent. A good story for children should suggest a hidden dimension, and that dimension of course is the lifetime still ahead of them. Six is a little early for a movie to suggest to kids that the case is closed. Oh, what if the kids start crying about words they don't know? -- 'Mommy, Mommy! What's creme brulee?' Show them, for goodness sake. They'll thank you for it. Take my word on this."
And this one from A.O. Scott:
"Is it is a movie for children? This inevitable question depends on the assumption that children have uniform tastes and expectations. How can that be? And besides, the point of everything Mr. Anderson has ever done is that truth and beauty reside in the odd, the mismatched, the idiosyncratic. He makes that point in ways that are sometimes touching, sometimes annoying, but usually worth arguing about. Not everyone will like 'Fantastic Mr. Fox'; and if everyone did, it would not be nearly as interesting as it is. There are some children — some people — who will embrace it with a special, strange intensity, as if it had been made for them alone."
And while you're at it, read this worthwhile article by Scott, as he's saying most of things I'm trying to think and can't tie together.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
(still waiting)
Don't let the long posts below distract you. I'm still waiting for responses about book recommendations. Yes -- you!
True Freedom: Fifth Graders, Wild Things, and Slaves to Righteousness
The more I think and read about Where the Wild Things Are, the more I realize just how much there is to unpack. I appreciated things here, resonated with this one, and found this one that showed up on a quick Google search to be kinda intriguing. It's something I'll probably keep talking about from time to time.
There's no doubt the movie gets inside the tumultuous mind of a child like nothing else I've seen. And one of the primary themes that rose from that reminded me quite a bit of things learned as a teacher as well as a sermon I had heard shortly prior.
It doesn't take long sitting in a Sunday school room to hear Christians say that life in Christ offers the only true freedom. I've always had a hard time understanding or believing that, because it seems rather clear that life in Christ leads to doing certain things you wouldn't normally do and not doing certain things you kinda want to do. If it's the opposite of what you want, how is that freedom?
A recent message on a Sunday morning kinda made sense of it all for me for the first time, but while I listened, I really was reminded of my classroom.
If you ask kids what they want to do in a typical school day, they'll all answer the same way. They want free time. No rules, no lessons, no schoolwork, no notetaking, no exercises, and definitely no homework. They want to do whatever they want. They want to be, essentially, free.
But it doesn't take a world-class teacher to understand that this would lead to, essentially, chaos. It might be fun for a little while or at certain moments, and at some points the kids just might be able to get together and organize something interesting, and they just might even learn a little something from it. But much more likely and inevitable, they'd be so focused on themselves that they'd end up bored, they'd get into disagreements and scuffles, feelings would be hurt, things would be unsafe, they wouldn't learn, they wouldn't grow, and most of all, they wouldn't be as happy as they thought they would.
You learn awfully quick as a teacher that while kids say they want no rules, what they really want is structure. They might not realize it and they definitely won't admit it, but they want clear boundaries, clear expectations, clear rules. Sure enough, they'll push those boundaries and rebel against the rules, but that's only because they want to make sure they're still there. Despite the grumbling, at the end of the day they're happy, because it's a safer environment, they can experience community and teamwork, they're creativity is allowed to shine and be embraced, they can express themselves, they're productive, and they can learn.
Which is true freedom? No rules? Or functioning within structure?
The Wild Things had been living for too long without structure. And they seem to be desperate for some, so much so that they quickly pronounce Max as their new king, and one insightfully exclaims, "Life is so much better with a King!" Something tells me she didn't really understand the truth in that statement.
But, like most fifth graders, the Wild Things are confused with what they want. Before long, they're not too happy with their King, probably because he's not exactly providing the structure they had been longing for. They insist that he needs to let them do whatever they want to do, do whatever makes them happiest. They sound a little like fifth graders protesting: "You're supposed to give us free time on Fridays! You're not supposed to give us homework on weekends!" Now that they finally have their King, they want to throw off any rules he puts forth, or at least tell him what the rules should be, not realizing that this so-called "freedom" is exactly what's making them so sad and miserable in the first place. That "freedom" allows a great deal of selfishness, where each person wants to create the rules that suit themselves best. It's what's causing fractured relationships and hurt feelings. It's undoing order and replacing it with chaos.
Which is true freedom? Life without a King? Or life with one?
Some friends and I recently finished reading Romans together. We were reminded that our world's idea of freedom--no rules, or only rules I prefer--is really slavery in the strongest sense. That selfishness creates chaos, unhappiness, and a host of negative consequences, leaving us misguided, lost, and unable to exercise our God-given gifts, abilities, skills, and talents. Becoming instead a "slave to righteousness" allows us to function under our King's structure. In it we find safety, order, relationship, community, and happiness--the qualities in life that 5th graders and Wild Things are searching for. We are free to reach our fullest God-given potential.
It seems odd to describe freedom in terms of slavery, but it seems that in the way we were created, we will always be a slave to something. So which is true freedom? Being slaves to sin? Or being slaves to righteousness?
Or maybe the questions are more like these: Do we as adults ever really grow out of our deep desire for order and structure? Can we really handle governing ourselves? Are we really happiest making our own rules?
"So, since we're out from under the old tyranny, does that mean we can live any old way we want? Since we're free in the freedom of God, can we do anything that comes to mind? Hardly. You know well enough from your own experience that there are some acts of so-called freedom that destroy freedom. Offer yourselves to sin, for instance, and it's your last free act. But offer yourselves to the ways of God and the freedom never quits. All your lives you've let sin tell you what to do. But thank God you've started listening to a new master, one whose commands set you free to live openly in his freedom!
There's no doubt the movie gets inside the tumultuous mind of a child like nothing else I've seen. And one of the primary themes that rose from that reminded me quite a bit of things learned as a teacher as well as a sermon I had heard shortly prior.
It doesn't take long sitting in a Sunday school room to hear Christians say that life in Christ offers the only true freedom. I've always had a hard time understanding or believing that, because it seems rather clear that life in Christ leads to doing certain things you wouldn't normally do and not doing certain things you kinda want to do. If it's the opposite of what you want, how is that freedom?
A recent message on a Sunday morning kinda made sense of it all for me for the first time, but while I listened, I really was reminded of my classroom.
If you ask kids what they want to do in a typical school day, they'll all answer the same way. They want free time. No rules, no lessons, no schoolwork, no notetaking, no exercises, and definitely no homework. They want to do whatever they want. They want to be, essentially, free.
But it doesn't take a world-class teacher to understand that this would lead to, essentially, chaos. It might be fun for a little while or at certain moments, and at some points the kids just might be able to get together and organize something interesting, and they just might even learn a little something from it. But much more likely and inevitable, they'd be so focused on themselves that they'd end up bored, they'd get into disagreements and scuffles, feelings would be hurt, things would be unsafe, they wouldn't learn, they wouldn't grow, and most of all, they wouldn't be as happy as they thought they would.
You learn awfully quick as a teacher that while kids say they want no rules, what they really want is structure. They might not realize it and they definitely won't admit it, but they want clear boundaries, clear expectations, clear rules. Sure enough, they'll push those boundaries and rebel against the rules, but that's only because they want to make sure they're still there. Despite the grumbling, at the end of the day they're happy, because it's a safer environment, they can experience community and teamwork, they're creativity is allowed to shine and be embraced, they can express themselves, they're productive, and they can learn.
Which is true freedom? No rules? Or functioning within structure?
The Wild Things had been living for too long without structure. And they seem to be desperate for some, so much so that they quickly pronounce Max as their new king, and one insightfully exclaims, "Life is so much better with a King!" Something tells me she didn't really understand the truth in that statement.
But, like most fifth graders, the Wild Things are confused with what they want. Before long, they're not too happy with their King, probably because he's not exactly providing the structure they had been longing for. They insist that he needs to let them do whatever they want to do, do whatever makes them happiest. They sound a little like fifth graders protesting: "You're supposed to give us free time on Fridays! You're not supposed to give us homework on weekends!" Now that they finally have their King, they want to throw off any rules he puts forth, or at least tell him what the rules should be, not realizing that this so-called "freedom" is exactly what's making them so sad and miserable in the first place. That "freedom" allows a great deal of selfishness, where each person wants to create the rules that suit themselves best. It's what's causing fractured relationships and hurt feelings. It's undoing order and replacing it with chaos.
Which is true freedom? Life without a King? Or life with one?
Some friends and I recently finished reading Romans together. We were reminded that our world's idea of freedom--no rules, or only rules I prefer--is really slavery in the strongest sense. That selfishness creates chaos, unhappiness, and a host of negative consequences, leaving us misguided, lost, and unable to exercise our God-given gifts, abilities, skills, and talents. Becoming instead a "slave to righteousness" allows us to function under our King's structure. In it we find safety, order, relationship, community, and happiness--the qualities in life that 5th graders and Wild Things are searching for. We are free to reach our fullest God-given potential.
It seems odd to describe freedom in terms of slavery, but it seems that in the way we were created, we will always be a slave to something. So which is true freedom? Being slaves to sin? Or being slaves to righteousness?
Or maybe the questions are more like these: Do we as adults ever really grow out of our deep desire for order and structure? Can we really handle governing ourselves? Are we really happiest making our own rules?
"So, since we're out from under the old tyranny, does that mean we can live any old way we want? Since we're free in the freedom of God, can we do anything that comes to mind? Hardly. You know well enough from your own experience that there are some acts of so-called freedom that destroy freedom. Offer yourselves to sin, for instance, and it's your last free act. But offer yourselves to the ways of God and the freedom never quits. All your lives you've let sin tell you what to do. But thank God you've started listening to a new master, one whose commands set you free to live openly in his freedom!
I'm using this freedom language because it's easy to picture. You can readily recall, can't you, how at one time the more you did just what you felt like doing—not caring about others, not caring about God—the worse your life became and the less freedom you had? And how much different is it now as you live in God's freedom, your lives healed and expansive in holiness?
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thanksgiving
It was a good thanksgiving, one that I began to call “In-Law Fest 2009” or the “Seven-Degrees-Of-Separation Gathering.” I won’t bother trying to explain who was in attendance, other than saying 2/5 of the Shorb family was there, 7/11 of the Checkeye family was there, and more or less all of the Ravier family was there. We had the pleasure of hosting it at our new place in “The Big Room.” It was a fun day.
Erica cooked the turkey, and it came out nice and moist and tender, and she was rightfully proud of her work. She makes a killer pumpkin pie with streusel topping, too.
Another 2/5 of the Shorb family came at the end of the day, making 4/5 total, and we finished with a game of hide and seek in the new house. Uncle-in-Law Wes took things to a new level, hiding IN the fireplace on the last round.
And while I've been complaining a little bit about the "feast" that comes with Thanksgiving, I get really excited about the grilled Thanksgiving sandwiches I get to make with all the leftovers. Today's lunch was stuffing, turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberries, and gravy between fresh baked bread and grilled to perfection.
There’s plenty for which to be thankful. As I reflected a bit, this year, it’s God’s strength. In expressing some frustrations to Travis last weekend, he reminded me of the massive transition that Erica and I are in and will continue to be in until we’re settled in France. He was right, and that realization combined with a number of things we’ve been faced with recently makes me thankful that when God calls us, he equips us. His strength fills in the gaps of our weakness, our competence comes from him, and through the strength he gives us, we can do all the things he calls us to. When things get difficult, the Holy Spirit is a counselor and a comforter. All of this makes it much better than trying to get it done on my own.
In a more readily practical sense, I am thankful for the financial means for both of us to complete graduate school. Erica’s done in a matter of weeks, and I’ll be done in a matter of months. Instead of racking up more debt, we’ve actually been steadily reducing it. Woo!
Even more practically, I am thankful for the new (to us) dishwasher that did most of the cleaning after yesterday’s company.
Another 2/5 of the Shorb family came at the end of the day, making 4/5 total, and we finished with a game of hide and seek in the new house. Uncle-in-Law Wes took things to a new level, hiding IN the fireplace on the last round.
And while I've been complaining a little bit about the "feast" that comes with Thanksgiving, I get really excited about the grilled Thanksgiving sandwiches I get to make with all the leftovers. Today's lunch was stuffing, turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberries, and gravy between fresh baked bread and grilled to perfection.There’s plenty for which to be thankful. As I reflected a bit, this year, it’s God’s strength. In expressing some frustrations to Travis last weekend, he reminded me of the massive transition that Erica and I are in and will continue to be in until we’re settled in France. He was right, and that realization combined with a number of things we’ve been faced with recently makes me thankful that when God calls us, he equips us. His strength fills in the gaps of our weakness, our competence comes from him, and through the strength he gives us, we can do all the things he calls us to. When things get difficult, the Holy Spirit is a counselor and a comforter. All of this makes it much better than trying to get it done on my own.
In a more readily practical sense, I am thankful for the financial means for both of us to complete graduate school. Erica’s done in a matter of weeks, and I’ll be done in a matter of months. Instead of racking up more debt, we’ve actually been steadily reducing it. Woo!
Even more practically, I am thankful for the new (to us) dishwasher that did most of the cleaning after yesterday’s company.
The Response of Gratitude
This Thanksgiving I’ve been kind of preoccupied by our strange and contradictory holiday rituals. “We’re so thankful! Let’s gorge ourselves!” I’m just wondering how we arrived at the place where gluttony is an overflow of gratitude.
I was kind of daydreaming about a better Thanksgiving, and just thought it would be nice one year to not overdue it so much, just have a few specially chosen dishes, keep it rather simple, quality over quantity. I more or less tested this idea on Wes the night before, and he pretty much immediately told me it was a terrible idea, even un-American, which could very well be part of the reason it appeals to me.
As if gluttony isn’t bad enough, it’s the slothfulness that goes with it, the stuffed feeling that causes you to just sit around and do absolutely nothing all day aside from doze a bit or watch the television mindlessly. Sinfulness aside, it just feels crappy if you ask me.
I initiated a Thanksgiving walk a few hours after eating, and to my surprise, everyone joined in. We kept our coffee mugs in hand and walked up the big hill that continues past our house. The people took it much more seriously than I had intended, and when I expected to turn around and return at the stop sign, they just kept walking and walking, watching the sun set, and eventually making it down to the reservoir nearby. All of this was not only a lot of fun and amusing and memorable and quite picturesque, it helped my preoccupation with the laziness associated with the day.
And then, as if gluttony and sloth aren’t bad enough, there’s the Black Friday madness that starts a day early with browsing through catalogs and advertisements. So now we’ve got the greed and covetousness to deal with, too.
Maybe I’m sucking all the fun out of a perfectly innocent holiday. Maybe I’m being a little too holy. Maybe it’s just the expected human condition, always having a tendency to warp and pervert things unknowingly. I’m probably worrying too much, thinking too much. It’s just that if our hearts were really filled with gratitude, wouldn’t we practice just a little bit more self-control and intentionality? Wouldn’t we think twice before diving into three of our most favorite deadly sins?
The other thing I’ve been a bit worried about lately is my status as a Debbie Downer. I guess posts like these don’t really help. Call me Naysayer Nate, I suppose.
I was kind of daydreaming about a better Thanksgiving, and just thought it would be nice one year to not overdue it so much, just have a few specially chosen dishes, keep it rather simple, quality over quantity. I more or less tested this idea on Wes the night before, and he pretty much immediately told me it was a terrible idea, even un-American, which could very well be part of the reason it appeals to me.
As if gluttony isn’t bad enough, it’s the slothfulness that goes with it, the stuffed feeling that causes you to just sit around and do absolutely nothing all day aside from doze a bit or watch the television mindlessly. Sinfulness aside, it just feels crappy if you ask me.
I initiated a Thanksgiving walk a few hours after eating, and to my surprise, everyone joined in. We kept our coffee mugs in hand and walked up the big hill that continues past our house. The people took it much more seriously than I had intended, and when I expected to turn around and return at the stop sign, they just kept walking and walking, watching the sun set, and eventually making it down to the reservoir nearby. All of this was not only a lot of fun and amusing and memorable and quite picturesque, it helped my preoccupation with the laziness associated with the day.
Maybe I’m sucking all the fun out of a perfectly innocent holiday. Maybe I’m being a little too holy. Maybe it’s just the expected human condition, always having a tendency to warp and pervert things unknowingly. I’m probably worrying too much, thinking too much. It’s just that if our hearts were really filled with gratitude, wouldn’t we practice just a little bit more self-control and intentionality? Wouldn’t we think twice before diving into three of our most favorite deadly sins?
The other thing I’ve been a bit worried about lately is my status as a Debbie Downer. I guess posts like these don’t really help. Call me Naysayer Nate, I suppose.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
City Living: 1 -- Small Town Living: 1
City Living scored a point for using their cops in places other than watching stop signs like overzealous hawks.
But tonight, Small Town Living comes from behind to tie the score for having a better view of the stars.
But tonight, Small Town Living comes from behind to tie the score for having a better view of the stars.
Used Books
I'm well aware that posting has been few and far between lately. That's partly because I've been trying to find the time to further digest Where the Wild Things Are here, and partly because life has been wringing us at a rate that leaves little time for rumination.
Several exciting things are on the horizon in the next two weeks, like hosting Thanksgiving in our big room, seeing Do Make Say Think in Philadelphia (listen to the new album here), my friend Dan's crazy new art show, and my friend Kyle opening a used bookstore in Emmaus.
But it's the bookstore that's inspiring this post. I don't talk much about literature here because I don't read as much as I'd like to and I don't really like to read as much as I'd like to. (Although, I have been really really enjoying reading The Phantom Tollbooth with my kids. Maybe I'll post some thoughts on that soon.)
But I know I've got some well-read friends--you know who you are, don't be shy now--who check in on this blog from time to time. In efforts to spark a little life around here and help out Kyle and Matt as they keep working on their inventory, the question is this:
What books would you want to find on the shelves of your new favorite used book shop?
Answers from any and all genres are accepted and encouraged.
Several exciting things are on the horizon in the next two weeks, like hosting Thanksgiving in our big room, seeing Do Make Say Think in Philadelphia (listen to the new album here), my friend Dan's crazy new art show, and my friend Kyle opening a used bookstore in Emmaus.
But it's the bookstore that's inspiring this post. I don't talk much about literature here because I don't read as much as I'd like to and I don't really like to read as much as I'd like to. (Although, I have been really really enjoying reading The Phantom Tollbooth with my kids. Maybe I'll post some thoughts on that soon.)
But I know I've got some well-read friends--you know who you are, don't be shy now--who check in on this blog from time to time. In efforts to spark a little life around here and help out Kyle and Matt as they keep working on their inventory, the question is this:
What books would you want to find on the shelves of your new favorite used book shop?
Answers from any and all genres are accepted and encouraged.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Fighting
In the past two days, I've dealt with boys who have thrown punches. Relatively speaking, neither scenario was a huge deal. One was matter of invasion of personal space. The other happened after someone stole a churro off another's cafeteria tray. Citations were issued, lessons were learned, and one tough guy welled up with tears admitting, "My mom's gonna kill me."
Boys will be boys, but the thing is, this never happens at our school. Besides a few playground scuffles that never amounted to anything, I'm pretty sure these were the first fists I've seen after 2+ years.
To have it happen two days in a row jolted me a bit, especially because both times I had to drop what I was doing and rush over to the situation before things escalated.
What's been most surprising is that it's instantly taken me back to my former school, bringing vivid flashbacks of some nauseating fights I witnessed there. Two boys rolling over desks in the back of math class, punches to the face, splatters of blood and clumps of hair laying in the hallway, the girl who showed so much promise one afternoon and was never seen again after she beat up another girl the next day. The stress seemed to rise with the flashbacks, a heart heavy with the burden of the darkness inherent in senseless violence.
The school's been on my mind a lot lately after interesting discussions at grad class, some contact with former colleagues, and now this. I can't say I regret leaving, but there is some regret that I couldn't stay, some regret that I couldn't do more. And maybe it's just a mourning of kids who have lost their way and resort to lashing out.
Even if it is just personal space or a stolen churro.
Boys will be boys, but the thing is, this never happens at our school. Besides a few playground scuffles that never amounted to anything, I'm pretty sure these were the first fists I've seen after 2+ years.
To have it happen two days in a row jolted me a bit, especially because both times I had to drop what I was doing and rush over to the situation before things escalated.
What's been most surprising is that it's instantly taken me back to my former school, bringing vivid flashbacks of some nauseating fights I witnessed there. Two boys rolling over desks in the back of math class, punches to the face, splatters of blood and clumps of hair laying in the hallway, the girl who showed so much promise one afternoon and was never seen again after she beat up another girl the next day. The stress seemed to rise with the flashbacks, a heart heavy with the burden of the darkness inherent in senseless violence.
The school's been on my mind a lot lately after interesting discussions at grad class, some contact with former colleagues, and now this. I can't say I regret leaving, but there is some regret that I couldn't stay, some regret that I couldn't do more. And maybe it's just a mourning of kids who have lost their way and resort to lashing out.
Even if it is just personal space or a stolen churro.
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