Doodling 4

Student Learning is Our Number One Priority...So Why Do You Keep Pulling Us Out of the Classroom?

Colleagues at my current school and in other schools have been reporting the same odd phenomenon lately.  Administrators are actually pushing them to schedule meetings during class time.  It's a a bizarre turn of events that seems to run counter to every reminder that 'student learning is at the heart of everything we do.'

[Note to administrators everywhere: Learning/teaching is kind of all we do every day unless we have to go to meetings, so you don't really have to tell us that all the time.]

I have worked in schools where teachers refused to meet at any time outside of designated meeting times. I have worked with people who refused to meet at lunch times or 'prep' times.  Attempts to get everyone in a team or department together to discuss important issues of curriculum or student issues that required a broad range of participation were often stymied by teachers who clung to 'rules' about meetings.  In those cases, schools often had to take on significant extra expenses to get substitute coverage for teachers in order to get everyone together at a so-called convenient time.  

At my school, however, teachers are really protective of the classroom contact time.  They don't want to give up time in their classes with their students because it's the most valuable time we spend at school.  Period.  Nothing else comes close.  It also happens to be the most fun time spent in school, but that's another story.  We even like each other a lot and have a lot of fun when we get together for our regular meetings, but class time comes first for every teacher I know well.

You would think our administrators would be thrilled by that, but instead many different groups of teachers keep being pressured to meet for full or half days.  Colleagues and I have offered alternatives like meeting three days in a row for an hour during our prep time, meeting after school, or meeting during lunch, but each time we have been pressured to get subs and miss class time.  Actually, let's be honest, 'pressured' is not the right word.  We've been forced; you can't call it anything else when the bottom line is that you have to meet and every option you offer is rejected in favour of the one your administrators proposed.  

We have all been baffled by it and keep asking each other:

• Why do they want us out of class when student learning is the priority?
• Why do they want to pay for subs? 

On one level it defies logic.  On another, it shows a lack of respect for the role a teacher plays in his or her classroom. It has not come up for me, but peers have had parents complain about these meetings and the effect they have on students.  Those peers have danced around the issue, trying not to lay blame where it truly lies but also trying to show that they never wanted to miss class in the first place.  It's tempting to out the decision-makers, but out of professionalism, to my knowledge all my colleagues have avoided doing so.

If anyone has any insight on this bizarre trend, I would love to hear it.  Otherwise, look for me hiding under my desk trying to avoid those 'invitations' to meetings during class time.  

Doodling 3

Doodling 2

Amantee: I love bread

My history with Amantee has always been good.  When they were located off Chaeng Wattana in a beautiful compound of incredible teak houses, I used to occasionally drop by for lunch and then browse their incredible antique collection.  Lunch in the sala or just walking through the traditional style Thai houses made me yearn for traditional Thai living.  Once, friends and I even planned a great party evening in the house, using the rooms for a fun mystery game and then having dinner.

When I heard that Amantee had moved downtown, I thought that the charm of the place might be lost.  Then I heard that they had started baking bread.  Knowing that they had done everything from building a masterful collection of Asian antiques to caring for gorgeous old wooden houses so well, I knew that this was not going to be a whimsical foray into brownies and doughy baguette.  I knew it would be good.

But when I got there, 'good' was not the word to describe what I found.  This was bread as art.  I got there late-ish in the day and was terrified to see that there was a whole shelf of baguette with little 'reserved' tags on them.  I panicked for a moment, but the woman behind the counter found one for me.  Then, like a find cheese shop, she started offering little slices of different breads.  There were Eastern European style ryes, hearty whole wheat loaves, and even some with fruit in them.  Each was fabulous.

And then I saw the einkorn.

Einkorn is, for those of you who are not history nerds, the 'original' wheat.  It is the wild ancestor first gathered by nomadic hunter-gatherers in the Fertile Crescent - probably the Natufians - that over time was domesticated.  Or you could argue that over time einkorn domesticated our ancestors because they eventually stopped being nomadic hunter-gatherers and settled down to farm the miraculous stuff.  Einkorn and its domesticate progeny - edible grass or human, however you look at it - gave rise to the very first urban civilisations of the Tigris and Euphrates river valleys.

Now I had a chance not only to taste a type of bread I had never had, but I felt like I was eating a bit of history.  I practically yelled, "EINKORN!"  My friends turned to look as I jumped and pointed at the loaf.  "Look!  It's einkorn.  Remember?  I've told you about einkorn before."

Blank stares.

"You know, the original wild wheat?  The Natufians?  Mesopotamia?"

A glimmer of recognition.

"Doesn't matter...just taste it."

And they did.  And I did.  And it was good.  I mean, I would still choose a baguette, but this was flavour and history in one bite.

The next day it was the first thing I told my classes.  They either loved the story, or they very kindly humoured me, asking questions about the bread, where they could have gotten the flour (which I will ask next time I am there), what colour the bread was etc.  If the place were closer to school, I would insist on a field trip.

Amantee, I not only love bread, I love your bread.

Doodling

González and Daughter Trucking Co.: A Road Novel (4 of 5)

 I just finished María Amparo Escandón's novel, González and Daughter Trucking Co.: A Road Novel.  It's good.  The best part of the novel is the idea of storytelling and its cathartic power.  Both for the storyteller, Libertad, and her audience of prisoners, the tales of the road provide the means of either facing down the past or of providing enough distance from the present that the future seems like something that can be faced.  I like the idea of using the book in class as an accessible way of introducing students to the idea of a novel about telling stories.

Escandón's characters are all kind-hearted and the novel is full of a feeling of loving fun.  In this sense it can feel a bit trite - that whole prisoners with a heart of gold and a painful past thing - but it's a cast of characters you care about.  If a writer could do one thing well, creating characters the reader cares about has to be one of the most important.  It seems like an ideal novel to be turned into a film, and, surprise, it's in the works.

After reading this one, my interest is piqued enough to read Escandón's other works as well - Esperanza's Box of Saints and Carcass.   Carcass, a collection of short stories that you can download here, looks particularly interesting as it ties in with two aspects of the González and Daughter, the final terrifying drive down the highways of Baja and Sofia's museum of wrecked cars.

Tokyo 6: A love for pens and paper

I love the appreciation of fine paper and writing implements (even though I fear losing a good pen too much to own one). 

Tokyo 5

Ueno - great yakitori (if you're good)

Tokyo 4: More art

Naoshima 

Tokyo 3

I'm not going to name this place, but, Japan, how do you do so many things so beautifully?

Plainsong by Kent Haruf: The McPheron Brothers

Plainsong is another book that somehow ended up on my shelf - not a typical choice for me - but I loved the book. What stood out for me the most, however, were two of Haruf's characters - the McPheron brothers. 

I'd like to meet the McPherons.  More than that, a part of me hopes they are real and still living in the Eastern half of Colorado. Harold and Raymond are two old bachelor brothers living out on a cattle ranch by themselves, tending their animals and sharing a splendidly quiet seclusion - they aren't the two people most people I know would think I want to meet, but Haruf invented two special men.  

The two embody the sentiment of the title - down to earth and rooted in what matters. Their kindness, no their goodness, ties the novel together. Harold and Raymond give to those who need without judgement. They change when change means making someone else's life a better one. 

There aren't many McPherons out there, but I feel like I've been lucky enough to meet a couple.  To my shame, they are a 'type' outwardly speaking that I would likely regard with some suspicion, figuring them to be conservative and harsh in their judgement of those who do not conform to their world view.  Haruf reminds me that, like the brothers, I should give a little more than that.

Plus, they have a fine sense of humour (as evidenced below).

(Absence of quotes is Haruf's choice.)

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     Then Raymond opened his hand and let go. The man stood up. You dumb old son of a bitch, he said. I was joking. 

     You got some of that right, Raymond said. 

Tokyo 2: Yabu Soba

Ueno, 14/4/15

Tokyo 1

Ueno 

Animal Farm Revisted

Like so many others, I first encountered George Orwell's amazing Animal Farm when I was in junior high.  I loved it and appreciated its message at a pretty good level.  I had a good teacher (Mr. Melcher) at the time, so he helped make sure I explored both the historical context and the thematic importance of the novel.

Unknown, http://bit.ly/1aSitZm

I recently decided to read the novel again both because some of my students are reading it and because I find the idea of authority to be particularly relevant today.   Rereading it as a teacher is fascinating on many levels.

At my grade level, the book isn't a great choice for a whole class novel, but it worked as book club choice for some of my more sophisticated readers.  The drawback to book clubs, of course, is that students don't get to explore a novel quite so deeply because the teacher is working with multiple groups and multiple books.  As I rotated through book club groups, I wanted to be able to jump in with the best possible questions and/or answers about symbolism, theme, and historical representations.

[No offence to Marie Lu, but there isn't quite the same need to be right on top of a book when students are reading Legend.]

That takes care of the professional...

On the personal front, I want to protect the naive Boxers and the idealistic Snowballs of the world.  I wish desperately to counsel them and tell them how they can direct their love of what is right in a direction that will keep dreams of better systems, better ideas, and better people/animals alive.  Not only do they need defending from the Napoleons of the world, but also from those who surround the Napoleons and nod in agreement at all they say.

I want to help keep ideals and ideas at the forefront of people's minds - not let them slip into some fuzzy haze so that they can be manipulated and moulded into something that suits the purpose of those in charge; may the beautiful ideal persist.

The Centennial Edition of Animal Farm includes some great essays to preface the book.  Among them, Russell Baker's stood out for its reminder that Orwell's work was frowned upon for its criticism of Stalin and the Soviet Union.  At the time, both had many friends in the West; Orwell's narrative apparently did not sit well with many of his peers on the left.  As Baker points out, Orwell was the type "that real politicians detest" because he could not "bear to let any wrong deed go undenounced"(p. xvi).

Perhaps more than anything, I want to help ensure that there is always a safe place for people like Orwell to shine a great light upon power misused and ideals abused.  As a person and as a teacher, can I do anything more important?

Water, Rivers, Boats, Thailand...Songkran

I love this documentary.  I watched it first to practice my Thai, but I loved it because it's beautiful. Love you always, dear Thailand.

The boat lady of Bangkok - Winner Vimeo WEC from Benjamin Parrot on Vimeo.

Faye Fang Kaew - Another reason to love Thailand

So I just added another reason to my long list of reasons to love Thailand.  I listen to Thai pop music to practice and improve my listening skills.  Yesterday I came across this video by Faye Fang Kaew, a trio of young women named, shockingly, Faye, Fang, and Kaew.  They are like many other pop groups - each one represents a supposed type (ingenue, fashionista etc.).  They looked strikingly similar to me in the video, but that's another story.

Anyway, I started watching their video and was so happily surprised to see that this was not just any old ballad.  In the video, the plot centres around the love between two female friends.  One is hiding her romantic love from her seemingly straight best friend.  I won't spoil the plot for you [Is that possible?], but the key here is that this seemingly typical pop ballad openly explores the potential adolescent romance of two young women.

Thailand, you are wonderful in so many ways.  Your openness about issues of homosexuality and gender is fabulous.  Love you always.

Rube Goldberg Loves Pesach

I say again, WHY does Bangkok need food trucks?

So last night after some fun and excitement in my dear Bangkok, we were hungry.  We wanted choice, we wanted flavour, and we wanted food fast.  Being close to Thonglor, there were plenty of restaurants around, but we didn't want to hang out with a hi-so crowd, and we didn't want foreign food.

The obvious choice?  Soi 38, right at the BTS.  Now Soi 38 isn't my favourite street food, but there are about fifteen stalls serving everything from noodles to khao man gai.  Throw in the food stalls all around the intersection of Sukhumvit and Sois 38 and 55 (Thonglor), and you could conceivably have a mini Bangkok eating tour self-contained in about one square block.

There was a food truck last night sharing some pavement space on Soi 38, but it had closed up already.  Meanwhile, the food carts and stalls were going strong with most tables packed.  So I say again, Bangkok invented mobile food - who needs food trucks? 

Shigella: Ewww (and how do governments plan for things like that?)

After this story about Shigella, I thought I would repost this.

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The New York Times recently published this story on 'Superbugs' in India.  Read the story, be terrified about the future.  Nothing new there.  There are lots of threats to our future - environmental disaster, disease, war, terrorism.  We hear it all the time, so this is just another story about bacteria.

But the real issue here is policy.  And for the moment, let's just think outside India.  How can you ever possibly formulate a workable policy to prevent the spread of these same bacteria, that you know have already been responsible for untold human and financial losses, to your country?

The bacteria are deadly, spread easily, and are basically untreatable.  But let's just say you're Canada.  You can't possibly say no to imports from India.  You can't possibly ban Canadian citizens from travelling to India and returning.  You can't possibly ban people from India from travelling to your country.  If you can't do that - and I believe that ethically you cannot - how do you prevent an Indian health crisis from eventually becoming your health crisis, too?

Of course the same can be said of just about every bacterial or viral infectious agent.  This one just makes for a particularly good test case (or at least a particularly dramatic story) because the infections can't be treated and in some ways can't even be prevented.  AIDS could be prevented through pretty basic precautions.  Other diseases can be spotted through some basic screening even on arrival in airports.  But this threat can't.

So in a modern world where the movement of people and goods is unstoppable, how can a responsible government ever formulate a sound policy to stop threats like this?

Us Conductors by Sean Michaels: 5 of 5

First a caveat - I am a sucker for a book like this.  I love books that create characters out of historic figures and hang a story on the framework of a real life.  An early favourite in this 'genre' is  Cloudsplitter by Russell Banks.  The novel explores the life of Owen Brown, the brother of abolitionist John Brown.  [I liked the book so much, in fact, that I hiked to the top of the mountain where Owen Brown spent his last years herding sheep and left the book behind for another hiker.]  With that full disclosure out of the way, let my praise for Us Conductors begin.

In Us Conductors, Sean Michaels takes the life of Lev Sergeyvich Termen, the inventor of the theremin (and many other wondrous items), and spins a tale of the Soviet Union, of invention, of New York, and (most poignantly) of love.

The Giller Prize winning book hangs a story of near lifelong love on the frame of a brilliant scientist's life.  As backdrop we have Termen's likely work for the Soviet intelligence agency, his fame during some of the craziest times in American history, and then his disgraceful return to the U.S.S.R. and prison.  Linking all these things together in Michael's elegant arc of a story is Termen's love for Clara Rockmore, violinist and later theremin virtuoso.

In the author's note Michaels makes clear that this work is one of fiction, "full of distortions, elisions, omissions, and lies."  It is testament to his writing that the Termen he brings to life seems not just believable (except maybe the killing) but someone we wish were real.  His beauty is not in his heroism but in the romance of someone consumed by creation and by love.

A reviewer at the Montreal Review of Books complained that Michaels describes some characters "in a flat, uninteresting way," but I see the other characters' comparative 'flatness' as a result of the author's choice.  As a man consumed by his two passions, everything else seems to lack substance.  They reside in the shadows cast by the glow of invention and love.

I loved this novel; reading it, I fell in love with the idea of electrical current and the beauty of its ebb and flow.

To hear Michaels talk about the novel and the Giller prize, check out the CBC interview here.