Summer Reading

The list so far...

The Screwtape Letters
The Stranger
A Long Way Gone
Ishmael
The Alchemist
The Whole Five Feet
The Known World
Evil in Modern Thought
The Girl With The Pearl Earring

SET it up

I haven't done Crossword puzzle in ages. I guess maybe because I don't usually get the NYT on weekdays. But I have been a little obsessed with the game SET. (Try not to get turned off by the cheesy web site.)

I'm pretty sure I used to play this game in elementary school during Math. I had forgotten about it until it turned up at a friend's brunch a few weeks ago. I ordered my own set of SET immediately.

The rules of SET:

A 'Set' is 3 cards in which each individual feature is either all the SAME on each card... OR all DIFFERENT on each card. That is to say, any feature in the 'Set' of three cards is either common to all three cards or is different on each card. The Features are:

• Symbols: Each card has ovals (I call these pills), squiggles, or diamonds on it;
• Color: The symbols are red, green, or purple;
• Number: Each card has one, two, or three symbols on it;
• Shading: The symbols are solid, striped or open.

I personally have noticed when playing that my eye tends to move toward making sets where the features are all different. When it comes to shading, I prefer the ones with the lines in them because for some reason they appeal to my eye the most. I'd imagine that everyone's brain works a little differently and that's what makes it fun to play against people.

So I implore you... try the NYT puzzle online here. Practice up. And then we can have SET parties.

Pedro, Oh Pedro

Pedro Paramo is one of my favorite books of all time. There, I said it. And I'm so pleased to have proof from Jim Lewis at Slate.

Let him convince you to read it the novel because he's quite eloquent about its intensity and depth: "[It] is built on an intricate lattice of time and space, but it doesn't seem planned so much as grown, something natural, inevitable, efficient, and effortless. All its paradoxes are innate. For example: It's the most morbid book I've ever read, since all of the living are dead; but it's also one of the most vivifying, since all of the dead are still living."

I'll have to admit that this book was assigned to me in high school, so I discovered it less at the behest of a friend and more at the requirement of my English syllabus. But let me scream it from the blogosphere that I LOVE THIS BOOK! READ IT! (in case your English teacher never made you). And if you do, I might even let you see my exquisitely dark copy accompanied by a local artist's photographs from a small bookshop in New Orleans.

Brooklyn Writers

If only the NY Times showed reciprocity in the same way as the Village Voice feature "Hate Us or Love Us," given the amount of times I quote the Times. We'd get more traffic.


There's a piece in the Book Review this week by Brooklyn-based writer Colson Whitehead called, "I Write in Brooklyn. Get Over It." What I love about the piece is that yes, it does seem a little silly to confuse "a geographical and economic accident with an aesthetic movement." It's true, there is nothing inherently creative about Brooklyn as compared to any other place in the universe. Although the water in the Gowanus canal does probably flow with some funky mojo.

What's interesting to me is the fact that my agreeing with Whitehead is, in a way, ironic. One of my favorite books of poetry of all time is Lunch Poems by Frank O'Hara, and a big reason I love it is for O'Hara's bopping-around-New-York thing. The first time I came to visit Brooklyn (and on subsequent trips), I wrote lots. I got pieces of multiple poems out of it. I thought a lot about how moving here would influence me as a writer.

Now that I live here, I haven't really written much of anything. I wrote a poem for a wedding, which included F train imagery (though I didn't name the train). I wrote a poem for a funeral, which included Manhattan skyline imagery. And that's it.

If living in this place influences me as a writer in any way other than superficially by giving me urban imagery, that'd be nice. But I probably won't find that out until much later, in a reflective mood, when I'm writing again. And probably not until I live somewhere other than Brooklyn.

PS. Whitehead asserts that if you Google brooklyn writer you'll get "Did you mean: the future of literature as we know it?" But, if you Google image search brooklyn writer you'll get this guy:

Oh No TV

Eric's band (which he would never blog about himself anyway) had a pretty eventful weekend. They played their biggest show in New York to date, at the Knitting Factory. They drew a pretty big crowd, mostly friends but some random folks, and now I have a ticket stub that reads Oh No! and the Tiger Pit. For perpetuity.

Then, thanks to Connor Mitchell's keen eyes, we discovered that a member of a friendly band we know from Gainesville is playing with The Whigs. Lo and behold, The Whigs were on Letterman the other night and Tim, the bassist, is sporting an Oh No! shirt. Now see this America...

Election Belly Laughs

Jobless No More

That's right. While this may be the tiniest bit premature, (I'm going to the school tomorrow to have my commitment letter signed) I accepted a job offer from the High School of Telecommunication Arts and Technology this morning. Yes, after nearly 5 months of being accepted to the fellows program, completing fellows training, interviewing at schools, substitute teaching and watching almost everyone else in my class secure jobs, it finally happened.

And I couldn't be more excited. I was smiling at babies this morning. And they smiled back. In case anyone is seriously interested, here's the school's report card from this year and their review on InsideSchools, an independent group of reviewers that assesses public schools in New York City.

Yes!

Loyal readers, you can expect this blog to have a much more teacherly bent now that both contributors are full-fledged members of the tribe. Now if I could just get Mr. Gordon Glasses to step away from the margaritas and write a blog...

More Cop Out Blogging

Hoping to get a job in the next week. I'm one of two people left in my class to have not landed myself a permanent teaching job. But I've got high hopes and two teaching demonstrations this week for jobs. Wednesday and Thursday. Think of me if you get the chance. I got an ominous e-mail from the NYC Teaching Fellows office about my status in the program being zilch if I don't get a job by February 1st. The two schools I'm going to this week seem like my best prospects to date. So there's that.

In the meantime, before there's real news to report, I was watching the Sundance channel today and actually saw a poem on TV. Granted, it's Billy Collins, and I don't particularly care for his mainstream platitudes, but I was happy to see a poem on TV nonetheless. A Youtube search turned up a few others, so I've posted them here:

A Trio of Videos

Tis' the season for trios. Father, son & holy ghost. The Ghosts of X-mas past, present and yet to come. Pecan, apple and pumpkin pies.

So, I bring you a trio of videos for your viewing pleasure.

This first one was recommended by Eric's Victorian Lit professor, Dr. Tremper. If you haven't heard of the Bonobo monkeys, you probably live in the jungle (ha ha!). But, even if you have heard of them, you should check out this video put together by researchers who are studying them. If you can't believe in the immaculate conception and virgin birth, you can believe in these monkeys. (Note: It's a long one- 19 minutes)



Next up is a video from one of my favorite features at Slate. Emily Yoffe writes 'The Human Guinea Pig," a column of her adventures doing things that "readers are too well-adjusted to try themselves." To date, my favorite column was her foray into life at a retirement community. Now, she's gone and one-upped herself, spending a day as a drag king. You can find the article here, but the gold nugget is the accompanying video. If you can't believe in the menorah's eight candles burning bright, you can believe in eight drag kings singing away the night.



Lastly, a funny one from Down Under. From other clips I've seen, this sitcom, "Summer Heights High," is "The Office" at a high school. This clip is the drama teacher, Mr. G, explaining his process in the classroom. Not only did I laugh when I saw it, I simultaneously pictured our own Mr. G singing to his students at Science Skills Center High School. If you can't believe in the Kuumba, or spirit of creativity during Kwanzaa, check out creativity in motion. (Thanks to Caitlin for sending it to me)



Happy videos to all, and to all a good night.

Get a CLUE

Last night I attended the final event in a series called "Between the Lines" at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM). First, I'm ashamed to say that was my only visit to BAM since I moved here. But I am trying to get out more.

Anyway, A Public Space, the magazine I interned for over the summer, commissioned some works from writers and partnered to put on the evening of readings and video. One of the pieces was a video called CLUE: Color Location Ultimate Experience, directed by A.L. Steiner and choreographed by a duo called robbinschild. Here's a tiny snippet of the 10-minute or so clip we saw (I hear there's an even longer full-length version):



The clip really doesn't do it justice (it's grainy, small and short compared to the real thing), but I wanted to post it because it sparked a connection in my mind with another piece of art that I recently read: the novel U.S.! by Chris Bachelder.



The connection between them is an appreciation for collage as a meaning maker. The thrilling part of reading U.S.! is the force with which the collage of the first half of the book propels the main character (Upton Sinclair) through the second, more traditionally narrative half of the book. In the first part you find press releases, letters, eBay listings, songs, poems, phone logs, interviews, a whole pastiche lifted and/or twisted from other sources.

Similarly the video CLUE, which was more collage than directed narrative, provoked emotion through the stacking of image upon image and the heightened tension created by video played both forward and backwards. Even more than the choreography of the dance in the video, collage itself made the meaning.

The whole point of the tenuous-seeming connection I'm trying to make in this post is that sometimes it's nice to look outside linear time and narrative in a way that isn't so self-aware.

And here's another clip of CLUE:

Incest

So this post is a little bit like winking at ourselves, but I'll write anyway.

This past Wednesday and today, I have been the substitute teacher for none other than Mr. Eric Gordon Glasses. The joy in this is meeting all the students that he speaks so highly/less fondly of. There are so many personality quirks in one room; it's amazing to think that Eric is in charge of them everyday. And they actually learn things!

I also like to ask them questions like, "Are you passing this class?" or "Don't you love To Kill A Mockingbird?" and then they ask me questions like, "When is Mr. Gordon coming back?" They miss him! And I get to say fun things like, "Don't forget about the quiz tomorrow!"

Not that I'm an Mr. Gordon impersonator. But wouldn't that be weird? Me, with a beard?

Poet Top

I'm inspired to write by the stupidity of this item I found as I was browsing Gap online. (I go through periods of heavy on-line window shopping every so often).

Amongst the rest of the outerwear (isn't everything other than underwear actually outerwear?) such as the patch pocket coat, the puffer jacket, and the three-button blazer, this little number didn't really catch my eye. Until I realized it was the poet top.

Obviously when I realized what it was, I had to have it. Actually no, that's not true. It still looks like a bland, brown item to me.

But, I was taken with the genius of calling something a poet top. I wondered, if I wear it, will I write more or better poems? Does wearing this boring top make the poet more creative because she must then fight her outward appearance as a dullard? Is this the top Emily Dickinson used to wear? Robert Frost? Does William Logan have a closet full of these in Gainesville?

55% silk, 45% linen. Dry clean. Oh right, Gap. You expect me to believe a poet of little means will send this top to the cleaners?

The details sound like a poem in themselves:

THE POET TOP

Shirring around collar-
less neckline, button front, hits
the hip, puffy sleeves.

So now you know what I want for Christmas. On sale for $24.99.

More Of What I Need To Know

These seem to come to me really easily after a couple drinks.

- If at first you fail, try something new. I don't mean in the sense that you give up, but with teaching it seems like there's at least a 50% chance that if your students don't get something you've taught them, it could be your fault. That's when you have to re-teach the material in a different modality or way. Ferg's the same. She likes to be pet all down her back sometimes. She gets it. But if she is feisty with me, I switch and only pet her on her head. Then she gets that.

- Routine is king. Ferg, for all her spontaneity, really likes routine. She's disappointed when Eric (accidentally or purposefully) kicks her off the bed at night. She knows the time of day she gets fed and will follow me into the kitchen. Routine is comforting to everyone, even Ferg. Students are the same way. It makes them feel empowered because they know what's going to happen. They won't be surprised and have it turn out badly. Why do you think pop quizzes suck so much? Yeah, Ferg might get angry if you surprise her the wrong way. I think students might too.

- The teacher has to work for it. Ferg has a box full of toys. Little mice with cat nip inside them, a jumpy alligator toy, and lots of midnight crazies. But her favorite thing to play with is a cork tied to the end of the string. Not only is it more of a challenge for her because I am ruthlessly tugging on the other end, but I'm actually participating. Students know when their teacher has checked out. They want their teacher to be on her toes, so that that they have to be on their toes.

- You just have to be tough. I don't really want to believe this one. But it's true. Ferg has had flea problems. In wanting to make myself feel better about giving her medicine, I bought all-natural green flea drops, sprayed tea tree oil on the rug, and fed Ferg brewer's yeast (all the home remedies). But the fleas didn't go. Our friend who's a vet told us that the all-natural stuff was actually just as bad for the cat as the real deal medication. And that stuff actually gets rid of the fleas.

In my quest to make myself feel better, I didn't treat the problem of the fleas by being tough. As a result, I got a bunch of flea bites (since Ferg sleeps in our bed). If the situation calls for it, I need to be tough with my students. Otherwise, they'll still have fleas and act out, and I'll get bit.

On a side note, Eric informed me that one way to get rid of fleas is to get rid of the cat. I guess that would be like sending a kid to the Principal's office or something? I hope not.

Everything I Need To Know

Ok, so I had the idea for this blog last night, as I was falling asleep with a head full of wine and all the little gems I've learned in teaching training so far/reading all kinds of teacher books. And I figured out I could make some money by writing a book of my own that corny teachers everywhere would love. Someone will try to come along and steal my ideas from this blog, but don't even try because I'm already in talks with a publisher.

Everything I Need To Know About Teaching I Learned From My Bad Cat

- Don't back down. My cat, Ferg, loves to do things she isn't supposed to. Like jump up on the kitchen counter, use Eric's bass amp as a scratching post, and pee on bath mats. The only thing that works with her is a stern voice to tell her "No" and picking her up to remove her from whatever she's doing. With students, I'm going to need a good stern voice and the balls to say, "move to that desk over there" (students are quite a bit heavier than Ferg).

- The learning curve is gradual. Ferg isn't the best at learning something the first time. So I'm patient with her (to Eric's dismay). I need to get a patient attitude toward the learning curve in my class. I've got some big ideas about books and poems to teach, but I need to see what the kids can do first.

- Be the one who cares. Without being the "martyr teacher" that will save lives, care about the students. Or try to. Nobody loves Ferg. It's understandable because she bites and scratches people. Even me. But I care about her anyway, despite her biting. Oh and some people call her fat, which isn't really fair.

- Stick around. Ferg lived in the streets before I got her. She was rescued by a friend of mine, who didn't think about the fact that at the end of grad school she'd be moving to Paris and couldn't take a cat. So I got her. At first it seemed like Ferg didn't really trust people. But I convinced her that she would even move to Brooklyn with me. I need to get my students to trust me and to commit to them that I'm not going to quit. It's highly likely they will have had several teachers subbing for them when I take over the class. I have to let them know I'm not going anywhere.

I think there's probably more parallels. I'll save them for a part II.

Fairway to Heaven

We went to a ridiculous/wonderful market in Red Hook today. Eric has been there a couple times before, but this was my first excursion to grocery shopping heaven. It's called Fairway and it looks like this:


Now, just imagine all the good foodstuffs (or prisoners) inside a building with that kind of façade. Foodstuffs like this...

[No Photo Available]

(I said use your imagination lazy bones)

We decided the best thing to ready us for shopping was eating. So we went to the hot food bar. If you go, skip the buffalo tofu, grilled eggplant and wild rice salad. Go for the spinach cassarole.

That's what gets you with those hot food bars; it's hard to choose between things that just look good and things that are actually delicious. It's like your eyes are playing tricks on you, yet for once it isn't the work of adverstisers and food art people that make Taco Bell look good on TV.

Those people that dress up the food for ads are probably really weird. When they were kids, did they play with anemic reheated hamburgers instead of dolls? Time to put on the lettuce skirt! That will look so cute with the cheese top. Ok, maybe not.

It could have been the disappointing eggplant, but the store seemed even bigger once we had to wind our way back to the front to get a cart and actually go down the aisles. Don't get me wrong, seeing the organic section, cheese shop and produce was thrilling, but I got overwhelmed quickly. It reminded me of coming back from my summer trip around Europe, where the grocery stores were almost all bodega-sized, and going to Sam's Club with my dad. Overload.

Eric was patient with me, as he usually is. Even when I made him push the cart (while I lost it for 20 seconds in the dairy aisle). And we ended up with twice as many groceries for the same price as what we pay at the natural food store in our neighborhood.

Not that you care whether we save money on groceries. Or maybe you do (hi grandma! thanks for all those coupons!). Except that maybe with the money we saved we could do something fun and then blog about that instead of grocery shopping. But we probably won't.

Everything you need to know you learned from this blog.

Hello. Eric here.

I like school. I am really good at it. This one student liked my shirt the other day. That made me feel good.

My favorite cat in the world is Ferg. She is so cute!

The best part about living in New York is Wii bowling with my new friend Nick.

I'm getting new shoes in the mail soon!

EAT NACHOS!