Behind the 8 ball

This blog entry serves as my apology to my students for getting so far behind on my own blog.  I had wanted to keep up with them as they wrote their own blog entries, but did not follow through.  I have learned what my limits are in this experience.  And I have learned that yes, it's true, I am a dedicated procrastinator.  To my students: I apologize.  Better future ahead! ; )

Advertising and Memory

Years ago while shopping in Target, I heard a little boy singing the Flintstones vitamin commercial to his mom as they walked down the vitamin aisle.  She said "We don't need vitamins," and he began to cite all the reasons why they did, directly from the commercial.  I thought it was cute, and it was--but the more sobering fact is that the advertisers had hit their target--they nailed it.  The web of connections had been made complete for this little boy.  If only it were that easy to get us to remember the important things in life....The good news is that educators can tap into this brain power: "...memory is integral to thought and ...nothing we learn can stand in isolation; we sustain new learning only to the degree we can relate it to what we already know" ("Making Connections" 24). Teaching students to hold onto what they've already learned and, incremently, add to that knowledge is crucial.  But I digress. Advertisers have taken this basic idea to a whole new level--they use tricks that sneak into our brains without our ever knowing it.  Under the level of conscious awareness are hundreds of little triggers that are set to go off when we encounter products--at Target, for instance. We are like Pavlov's dog--geared to salivate when a bell rings.  As Matthew Blakeslee says, "...the whiz kids on Madison Avenue have learned farily well how to attach psychic puppet strongs to our minds..." even though they may not have known the biological underpinnings that make them work (632). As a teacher, I sometimes wonder if I am taking full advantage of this "web of connections" in the classroom.  I feel like teachers walk a fine line between guidance and, dare I say, mind control.  Maybe it's a little bit of both.  But at any rate, we are pushed, prodded, and forcefully encouraged to participate in this capitalist society. The things that get in under the wire are the most potent, and possibly have the most potential for good (or bad) simply because we are not consciously aware of them. We think that it is entirely our own idea to buy those Flintstone vitamins, right?

Mindfulness

My dog died on October 13.  I've had a lot of time to think this week about what she meant to me--and why she made us so happy.  I think I've figured it out, to a point.  Lucy lived in the moment, and took us there with her. She helped to teach me about mindfulness.  Odd that an animal who is supposedly "dumb" can be so smart.  According to Uwe Herwig, "Meditation techniques that enhance mindfulness--purposeful, attentive and nonjudgmental awareness of the moment...[can help to] buffer emotional responses [and keep us calm]." The key word for me is "nonjudgmental." To live in the moment is to accept it for what it is, just as it is.  I tend to overthink EVERYTHING.  I think many of us want to be happy, as if happiness is something we can possess like a material object.  It doesn't happen that way, at least for me.  One day this summer, I was out hanging out the laundry and it just hit me--I'm happy! Why would I be happy hanging out laundry, for goodness sakes.  What made me happy was the very thing that Herwig speaks of--I was just in the moment, or as I've also heard it described--in the flow.  The same thing has happened when I am writing music, or playing my guitar, or watching my dog play in the snow.  Mindfulness is not encouraged in our culture because we are constantly bombarded with media--we hardly ever have a minute to ourselves, just to BE.  If, as Herwig and her experts say, that "self-image is a product of our brain," being mindful and calm in each moment can give us a more "realistic" view of ourselves and contribute to our overall sense of happiness.   

Postmodernism: According to William Truett Anderson, it is marked by an overall confusion about who we are, who we can be, where we are going, and what we will be.  Our reality is socially constructed.  Our identities are up for grabs--we can "buy" any image we desire in this postmodern world.  Drawbacks? Well--it is rather difficult to step outside of the air I breathe, but I hope that I don't fall victim to the popular notion that everything is relative--that there is no Truth, only truth.  On the other hand, I like the idea that we can create the kind of world we live in by our words and actions.  That institutions are not eternal but are man made and so can be unmade if they are not serving the needs of those who created them.  As Anderson points out, "As more people suspect that reality can be created, the world becomes a kind of theater in which competing groups offer competing plots" (12), although there is a dark side to this kind of story creating.  In this postmodern world, we have access to technology that extends the boundaries of our identities in ways folks fifty years ago would never have dreamed of. As Jones says in "Identity's Edge," "...to be alive--to be human--you must let certain things in" (541).   I like the way Facebook lets us do that.  I like the fact that I can go on Facebook and see pictures that my friend, Fatih, posts from Turkey.  I like that I can see my friends in England at their parties after a soccer game.  I like that I can share parts of my life with family that I may never see in person again on this earth.  We can still be connected. Identity is shaped by interactions with the culture at large--whether it be through religion, education, family, business, media, etc. And as individuals connect with each other, ideas spread in and around and constantly create and recreate culture.  Perhaps what is postmodern is that the rules have changed.... 

It's August..................

Summer in the Pacific Northwest is always a mixed bag, but this summer has been especially schizo--cooler temps than normal, cloudier than usual.....just wanted a real summer--heat, sun, you know, SUMMER? Oh well, at least the time off is the same, rain or shine.  I have oodles of time on my hands because I'm a teacher, and well, one of our perks is to have summers off.  That's not to say we teachers don't work during the summer--we just don't work the 8 - 5 job--we have to be more disciplined than that and set our own work hours.  Which means that most mornings I wake up about 8:00, luxuriating in the fact that I don't have to get up at all.  But I do--my coffee is waiting for me, thanks to my lovely husband who hears me padding down the stairs, barely awake.  Ah, the morning if off to a great start.  Then, it's choice time--do I watch the Today show for awhile, do laundry (or other housework) and then turn my attention to planning my courses for the coming year, or do I work first and relax later.  Decisions, decisions....Life is tough when you're a teacher.  Having the time off to think and plan is vital to good teaching, so thank goodness for this time--but wait, is that the sun I see peeking through the high clouds? Where did I put that sunscreen?

Education

The readings in my composition class for today have me thinking and rethinking the overall goals of education in our country. HUGE topic. Lots of tracks to follow on this line. When I was growing up and going to school, there were no learning styles surveys.  We all took the IQ tests--I never knew the outcome of mine, although I must assume I "passed"! When I got into my senior year in high school, they started tracking students--the smart kids were placed in classes together and the not-so-smart had their own classes. I wonder what the long term affect of this kind of tracking has been. I'm reading a book right now called The Social Animal by David Brooks, and in it, he discusses the mistakes made by assuming that IQ can tell all educators need to know about a person's ability to learn. The quantification of abilities seems so neat, doesn't it? If only a number could tell it all.  But I think we all suspect that there is much more to the picture. It would be nice if everyone could just be assigned a number and given a spot to fill, and then we could all go about our business, right? Life is not neat, however, and potential cannot be measured. Perceptions form over long periods of time and they shift like waves in the wind. Better to allow people to explore as they learn, rather then pigeon-holing them before they even have a chance to know themselves....

May

Midway through the quarter and I'm aching for summer, for space and time and flip-flops and gardening and playing my guitar and visiting family and friends and eating dinner on the deck watching the ducks in our pond and the heron fishing. . . .SUMMER--will you ever get here? When I look back to my childhood, it seems like summer lasted forever. Now it seems to just fly by, once it gets here.  Why is that? It is a question I will never find the answer to, and yet I ask it every year. Sigh. I'm such a sentimentalist and a dreamer. Double sigh. Sometimes I just don't want to think--about politics and the economy and work and gas prices and elections and.....the list goes on. Sometimes it's all just too much....You know? I should think of summer as a state of mind--so throughout the long winter, I can have little summers, tiny slices of time in which I stretch my limbs in an imaginary sun and just REST. ; )

on retreat

The word retreat is an interesting one--in battle, it means "fall back to a safer position until we can regather ourselves for another attack." This is a specific action.  But it also has come to mean the place itself.  I am staying overnight at a retreat center near my home.  The purpose of the retreat is to carve out some much needed space for curriculum planning at my university. I came here with a small team of teachers, but there were close to one hundred of us here for this short time. It is a time out of time, a retreat. Life goes on outside of this space in its usual way--work continues, errands, busyness. But here, time stops its usual progression and sort of empties out. It's not that time slows down--it's that it just sort of pauses. I can retreat from a war, but only long enough to gather up my strength for the next battle. It's interesting to me that in this way, retreat takes on the context that life is a battle and that we all need a break from it every now and then. I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable with the idea of life as a battle.  It sounds so contentious.  It sounds so difficult and contrary. Shouldn't life be "a bowl of cherries" or "a dream" (as in "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream; merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.") But I know better of course. Life is difficult and contrary and tiring and frustrating. But it is also wonderful and funny and envigorating and surprising and lovely. And sometimes it's war. It is in retreat that the wonderfulness of life returns to us.

World View

The class is writing blogs this week about their world views: what they are, but more importantly, how they were shaped (or are being shaped).  I must say that the most important influence in shaping my world view has been my family relationships.  School, of course, has been a big part of my life.  I started school at age five and I guess you could say I've never left it.  I love learning.  But I came to that love of learning because of my parents.  My mother wanted me to be happy and have a satisfying career--she didn't get the opportunity to finish school.  I think that she knew a long time before I did that I would be a teacher.  My dad quoted poetry to us from the time I can remember, instilling in me a love of literature. We always had plenty of books in our home, as well as music.  My dad and two of my brothers played the guitar; my mom and I sang and played the piano.  That makes it sound like we had a family band--we didn't, but I think we probably could have.  At any rate, a basic curiosity about the world was instilled in me at a very early age.  I hope I always keep that curiosity and anticipation about what might be around the bend in the road.  I never want to get old!

So many books. . . .

And here's another book I absolutely must read: The Secret Life Of The Grown-Up Brain: The Surprising Talents Of The Middle-Aged Mind

     Here's the review by Barbara Strauch: "As the health and medical science editor at The New York Times, Barbara Strauch can spot good research and new ideas. The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain is full of both. No depressing documentation of memory loss here. Strauch focuses on what middle-aged brains can do better than younger brains — most important, synthesize and use information, and see things more broadly. She tells her story in a very accessible way, through anecdotes of discovery and profiles of brain scientists. At the end of the book, there's advice — but no guarantees — on how to keep your brain in good shape. And for any people (including teenagers) who doubt the middle-aged brain is all that great,..." This book is a MUST read--I think I still qualify as middle aged. . . .but that aside, it's good to know that us "older folks" can still make a contribution in the world.  Misplacing my keys, locking myself out of my office--not signs of alzheimer's but just a sign of distraction.  I've never really been all that good at multi-tasking anyway.  So I'll add this one to my list, and maybe once I buy it, I won't forget where I put it on my bookshelf. . . .

Blogging in class!

I decided to go ahead and try the blog this quarter in my argument class instead of regular journals.  Can't wait to see how it turns out.  I will need to keep my blog updated now! This is going to keep me accountable. Hm. Controversial topic of the day: President Obama's speech this evening....or wait, something more local: Pierce Transit's ongoing decision to cut four bus routes out of my morning commute.  Grr.  I know, very academic response.  I must get more facts about this situation so that I can attend the April 18th "town meeting" in Gig Harbor.  This is an inconvenence for those of use who need this bus to get to and from work--so that we can save gas, help the planet, etc. I have heard that the directors of Pierce Transit are not in any hurry to reinstate those routes.  It does help save money; but since the Lakewood fuel station exploded a few weeks ago, all they have done is make excuses about why those routes have been cut.  No plans to bring them back.  I am really griping because I don't want to get up at 5:30 in the morning.  Whine, whine.  But really? We'll only have two routes in and two routes back? From now on? SRO in the afternoons, for sure. BOO!

Using Blogs in the classroom

I've been considering whether or not to use blogs in my Argument and Research course in the spring.  Of the many advantages, I like the fact that students may write more often.  I'm also interested in the various possibilities for research--the students can provide links on their topics, post pictures or videos, even music files that connect to their topics.  I think that the experience of writing a researched argument can become more relevant once they have an actual audience commenting on their work.  I must decide soon, though--Spring quarter is just a few weeks away. . . .

thought it was over

but it's not--it just keeps coming into my mind--why our house? why my jewelry? why things that yanked my heart out? this sucks.  just sayin'--not liking this in any way, shape or form.  interfering with my life, my thoughts, my dreams, my plans; don't like hating people but I hate the robbers. I really, really do. with every fiber of my being. If I could get my hands on them, I'd throttle them, and then I would call the law.  but first the throttling. then, behind bars for them/him/him and her/her.  the faceless villians at this point.  Just wish I had a face.  wish I had a reason. wish I could understand this whole mess.  you come into my house and turn my life upside down and then you run away, you cowards.  Grrrrr.

Robbed

I think I am finally ready to be philosophical about the break in at my home.  I am still angry, but enough time has passed that I've turned my anger into action.  I will always have a hole in my heart--my mom's wedding ring, my grandmother's wedding ring, my dad's Tulane class ring, and a few other things meant a great deal to me.  I had hoped to pass these things down to my nieces.  However, chaos theory is true--the robbers had a different plan for these precious items.  I am determined not to give up hope that these people will be caught at some point.  I have thought that the robbers were men, but maybe they were women, or a mix of women and men.  Women can be robbers, too.  Oh my--stereotypes die hard, don't they? "Women can't be coldhearted" is a dangerous stereotype--we are all human and very, very capable of being cruel and coldhearted.  I am sad.  But I won't be broken by this--the more I talk about it to my friends, the more stories I've heard of people in similar situations--I've even heard of some recent break-ins in our surrounding community with the same MO.  What are we to do? No one is safe.  I heard the story of a woman whose house in Tacoma was broken into in broad daylight as well-the shocking thing is that she has neighbors that live close by.  No one is safe.  We must all be vigilant and wary.  Satan is a roaring lion and he most certainly roams the earth looking for those to devour.  We are all vulnerable.  What are we to do? I don't have a definitive answer--I just know that without our friends and family, we're toast.  We must help each other, stick by each other through thick and thin and in the bad times, which will most certainly come, embrace each other and pray for each other.  God help us all. . . .