Summary and Closing Thoughts

Well, I think the one thing that I took from this class is that critical literacy is everywhere, and to the creative teacher, anything can be critical literacy.  As long as we are challenging our students, no matter what kind of literacy we use, then it is appropriate.  I've never been to strict on "defined literacy", using poems, pictures, funny youtube clips, raps songs etc. in my lessons, but I also learned that pulling literacy from other classrooms to expand on my examples would be a viable and easy option.  Using the history of the number zero to illustrate a point about origin stories in a classroom, or a model of waterspouts to show something like mob mentality in a play.  Almost everything from my text-set is straight from my bookshelf in my room.  I literally just looked at it and wrote down what I thought would be good to use.  And that's the same bookshelf I plan on having in my classroom, though hopefully with a few additions.  I can't wait to use Shakespeare to help teach my ELL students about the structures and fallacies of the English language.  I can't wait to show culturally diverse learners works like Persepolis or the works of Walter Dean Meyers.  I can't wait to here the first oral presentation given in my class on whether or not Tupac's rhyme and verse are comparable to that of Walt Whitman, or if Scout Finch follows the hero's journey.  There isn't much else to say except for, I honestly can't wait to get out there and start learnin' some youngins'. 

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Self Selected Project

Becca, Aly and myself decided that we wanted to do a text-movie combo that touched on the same things.  We decided to use Speak by Laura Anderson and "It's Kind of a Funny Story", a movie based on the book of the same name.  I'd read funny story before and knew enough about Speak to know that they would work well together, one being from a girl's perspective and the other being from a boys.  Both character's are also around the same age (around 13-14) so that helps give perspective as well.

Speak was really interesting, being something I'd been meaning to read for a while and never getting around to.  I thought that though some of the actions and dialog of the characters were a little exaggerated, it helped to show the surrealistic world Melinda was living in.  I really liked how the book paralleled what was going on in her life with what was happening around her at school.  From dissecting frogs in Biology class to reading The Scarlet Letter in English, everything external symbolized what was going on inside her head.  I thought that was great.  I also liked the way the cliques were set up, and the fact that though Melinda was going through all this inner turmoil, she assumed no one else was, even though her art teacher was having a mental breakdown right in front of her.

Funny Story is great and I would highly recommend at least seeing the movie, if you don't want to read the book (both are really similar).  Funny Story is just that, funny.  Which is hard to pull off on such a sensitive topic.  The zaniness that happens around Craig allows him to put things into perspective.  And like Melinda in Speak, Craig finds the best way of battling his depression is through art.  This movie has a lot of heart, and characters that at first, may seem unrealistic, quickly become complex and moving.  Great movie, great book.  Fun assignment.

Those are some of the things we agreed that we liked about the literature.  A few things that we weren't so stoked about was some of the content.  Now I have no problem reading/watching anything, but I'm told parents can be a little huffy when it comes to certain topics.  We decided that though we're against censorship in (most) forms, you do need to prep students and parents when introducing a touchy topic like rape and depression.  You don't know what students will be dealing with in their personal lives and what might send them over the edge.  But I also think it's important that, if done properly and with care, these topics should be touched upon.  Who knows, it could really help a student going through something similar.  Learning that you're not alone is one of the first steps to recovery.  That's what the kids in the literature learn.

When it comes to including the literature in a classroom, as English majors we agreed that it's all gravy.  Both book/movie has a movie/book equivalent, so you could show clips from the movie supplemented with exerts from the book.  I think that would take care of the issues that might come with showing either books or movies.  It would also allow you to do both of the texts in a shorter amount of time, cover more sides on the issue of depression. 

As for the book club portion, it was GREAT to get to pick our own books.  As I've said, I love Funny Story, (both book and movie), and was pleasantly surprised by Speak.  After I learned the Twilight chick was the main character in the movie, I've been dubious of the whole thing.  It was a little disheartening reading such a sad book this close to finals, but the humor in the story made it not only tolerable, but truly enjoyable.  I could definitely see myself teaching both books in a class... maybe after tenure.

On Writing

When I was young I could never really get into writing.  Actually, let me rephrase that: I’ve never really been able to get into writing.  Despite the length of some of my blogs, writing has never been easy for me.  I can never read something I write, because it’s too predictable.  It’s almost like I know what the author is going to say before I read it.  It’s annoying.  When I was young, my mom always tried to get me to write a journal, but I could never remember to write in it every day.  The only distinct time I remember writing in a journal on a daily basis; in first grade, my family made its annual trip across the country to Colorado to go skiing.  I don’t actually remember writing in the little red journal, but I do remember reading it to my class when I got back.  It went something along the lines of: “Today I saw a lizerd and the tumbwed.  Then I went skying.  It was fun.  I went reel fast.”  Ugh. Atrocious.  But honesty, that’s how I feel about most of my writing.  Except this one time.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I always had a love of the works of Gary Paulsen.  In seventh grade, we were required to do a science project.  Now since the science teacher and I weren’t on the best of terms, this wasn’t going to be easy.  Luckily, I had an out.  Old Mr. Jensen, (I’m pretty sure that was his actual name, though I could be wrong) our English teacher knew I wasn’t the best science-oriented student in the world.  And though he wore thick glasses and a hearing aid (we would occasionally get the whole class to hum at a very low pitch so that he’d take out his hearing aid and adjust it.  Then we would all talk at a much louder decibel when answering questions.  Seriously, I hope I never have a student like me.), he saw that I had a penchant for English. He informed me and a few others that there was an English alternative.  All you had to do was read a book, read the author’s biography, and then write a 5 page story, emulating the author.  Well of course I chose Brian’s Winter (slightly shorter than Hatchet)  and read Paulsen’s truly amazing autobiography Guts (seriously, everyone needs to read this book, the dude lived in the wilderness, was an emergency rescue volunteer, decided to go hunting with his own homemade bow and arrows, and has run the Iditarod WITH HIS OWN, SELF TRAINED DOGS         several times! That’s bad-ass!)  Then I wrote the story.  Except, I didn’t write the story.  I wasn’t Brian Clark when I wrote that story, I WAS Gary Paulsen.  It’s like he possessed me, even though he’s still alive. Weird.  But yeah, all of us that did the English project ended up getting over a 90% on the assignment, when the highest score on the science projects was in the mid 80’s. 

For a while in college I thought I could write poetry.  Let’s just call these, “my hippy days” and leave it at that.  At the time, I was taking a poetry writing class at 11:30, which was my first class of the day.  I had also attended the Write Bloody Poetry Slam that the university puts on every year.  So I started fiddling with styles and rhythms, watched a lot of def jam on youtube, and eventually thought I could write slam.  The problem was, I couldn’t read it.  During those days of delusion I would often attend Helicon West, and would occasionally try to read one of my works.  Unfortunately, every time I tried to read, I would, at the exact same time, have the immediate urge to vomit.  I would get flushed, dizzy, unable to read the words.  After much effort, I was able to read some of my works in public, and at that moment, I realized that the poems were utter crap.  Just, seriously really bad.  I’m literally chuckling, in a crowded computer lab right now thinking about how awful those poems were.  But I had a group of around 6 roommates (I say around because I lived in this giant, family sized house where guests would come and go all the time) that said they were brilliant.  Idiots.  We were all idiots.  But I can’t lie, at the time I was loving it.  We were all writing poems and watching beat and slam poetry and making music and painting, it was a great time in my life that I wouldn’t give up for anything.  And despite how bad those poems actually were, they were all really fun to write.  To find the perfect word that will bring the whole stanza together and make the poem pop. 

So, I think when it comes to writing assignments, there are always going to be ones that students don’t like, but I also think that if you have enough variety in the writing, they will appreciate at least a little of it.  I mean, have some personal journaling, have them write from the perspective of someone else (like a historical figure, or for you math-nuts, from the perspective of a number or equation), have them add a sentence to someone else’s writing, have them write like Dr. Seuss, have them write about something they’re passionate about, have them write about something boring in an interesting way, have them write an ad for something.  Really, there are a million ideas, but the important thing is to get them to write.  They don’t have to always like it, but sometimes they might find that they do.

Motivation... bleh

Motivation is one thing that I've never had.  In fact, quite a few teachers have told me that: "I'm not lazy, I'm just very unmotivated." Which translates to: "Stop procrastinating till the last minute and do the damn assignment!!!"  Alas, this response is, unmotivated and frankly, played out.  But it's always been this way; I never had to struggle in any of my classes (except math, but we'll get to that), and despite sometimes going out of my way to NOT learn (more on this too), I've got by with mostly A's and B's in high school.  After football/tennis/skiing, I would go home, hang out with my friends until late, then played video games, watched tv and read until way later.  Then I would wake up late, get to school late, do my English homework in math class, do my History homework in English, do my Biology homework in History, and never do my math homework.  And this is how I sluffed by.  And no one called me out on it besides the math teachers, and who cares about them? (Again, math people, don't worry I'll address this momentarily)  I don't think I wrote a "second draft" until a few years into my college career.  As soon as the test was over, I forgot all the names of cellular construction.  Once the names and dates were memorized and linked together with very specific word clues, they were stored for emergency pop-quiz retrieval only.  I never once analyzed all this data that was coming at me, being processed by me and finally regurgitated back out.  I never once thought about two hydrogen molecules, somehow, miraculously colliding with an oxygen molecule to create water! How did I never ponder that scenario!?

I was always the kid getting into trouble.  Literally, always.  Even if it wasn't me! (though to be fair, more often than not, it was).  What can I say, I'm a "[social] peacock, captain! You gotta let me fly!"  I blame it on the ability to make friends with anyone that was sitting next to me, and I wouldn't let a little something like having my desk be at least 10 feet away from all my neighbors stop me, I'd just get louder.  This is all true.  I once had a science teacher first, switch my groups on a bi-weekly basis, then he moved my desk away from all the other students, and finally, in an act of desperation, he put me in his office where he kept storage and gave me the lecture notes.  If only that had worked.  One day he caught me after I had set up an elaborate slinky staircase with the many boxes he kept in the in the room.  In my defense, it was HIS slinky, how could I not play with that?  Anyway, long story short when he queried: "What the hell are you doing!?!", I was all but forced to respond by pointing at a few other nick knacks I had found in the room, including a small propane tank and a grill lighter, and ask a question in return: "Should you really keep those two things in the same room?"  Well, apparently that was the last straw since I spent the rest of the year in the hall outside his door.  Well, technically wandering the hall or playing outside.  I think what really destroyed him though was that I got an A- in the class.  All of that is true, and looking back from where I am now, I honestly feel sorry for him.  As far as I know he either transferred school or retired after that year.

Ok so math.  When I moved from Ohio to Utah, somewhere along the way I missed a step in mathematics that has forever marred the subject in my eyes.  And I think I've finally narrowed that step down to fractions.  Fractions are my bane, fractions if used with wanton abandon from a teacher, will leave me in a crumpled, weeping mess of self despair.  Fractions suck.  We were going along fine, doing stuff that I was just breezing through: Decimals, no problem.  Negative numbers, give me a break.  Long division, Kachow! Gonzo.  And then suddenly we were dividing, but not really, because the numbers didn't evenly distribute into each other.  And then we were adding the divisions to each other, and at one point the second was flipped and now inexplicably we're timesing! Wait, what!?  And then, as quick as they had come, those devil numbers were gone and we were on to something else.  But I was never as confident about my math skills as I was from that point... and then they added letters.  Now by this point, I'd become pretty comfortable with letters.  They created words, which in turn created books, which in turn created movies like Jurassic Park.  But now it was like I was at a party with letters, but letters didn't tell me they had also invited numbers over, and it became a "Hey dude, I'm friends with you, and I'm also friends with these guys, so we should all be friends together" situation.  But the thing is, I didn't want more friends.  I can break my math classes down into a timeline, starting with 7th grade: Pre-Algebra :: Algebra :: Geometry :: Algebra 2, but then got kicked down to Algebra :: Math 1010 (or the equivilent of another college Algebra class I took senior year) :: COLLEGE :: Stats 1040 X 5.  Seriously.  It took me 5, FIVE, tries to pass Stats 1040 in college.  The second Algebra made math a curse word in my books, so that 5th Stats attempt was literally, the worst thing I've ever gone through.  Math was the one subject I actually had motivation in, because I wasn't good at it.  Well, that's how my attitude in higher math began, anyway.

Now you're thinking, but Brian, what does this have to do with motivation?  Well, If I had ever been motivated, like, actually motivated, not by grades or threats, but by the pursuit of my own knowledge and self satisfaction, I would have cared more.  Instead, I'm virtually useless when it comes to the curriculum of the hard sciences.  And not only that, I now have zero motivation to learn any kind of math.  I hope I marry a gal that's good at it, or at least knows how to use a calculator.  Because sometimes educational motivation is like a pair of skis.  You can use 'em year after year, on fresh powder and on crude, and never worry about maintenance. And you can love 'em.  But one day that base is going to be chewed up beyond repair, and no amount of waxing can bring it back.  That base is gone forever.  I know what it feels like to be giving something your best effort and always coming up short, and a teacher that doesn't know anything about motivation, or how to motivate on an individual level is a teacher that probably shouldn't have a job.

Halloween Appropriate Blog (sort of)

I started out reading.  Or, more accurately, I started out being read to.  I loved hearing about the adventures of Corduroy Bear, Babar, Curious George, and that lovable, antisocial misfit Max.  I'm told I could recite Where the Wild Things Are long before I could read.  There are still boxes upon boxes of Little Critters and Bearenstein Bears books somewhere in my parent's house. 

When I was able to read more comprehensibly, Two of my favorite genres were adventure and horror.  At the time, Gary Paulsen was one of my favorite authors, With Hatchet and Brian's Winter being some of the best literary achievements in the history of writing (it didn't hurt that me and the main character shared a name).  Being an only child with several acres of woods behind my house, the idea of being lost in the dense Canadian forests, alone and fending for yourself really appealed to my sense of boyish exploration.  Jean Craighead George's adventure tale My Side of the Mountain, about a boy who runs away to live in the mountains and befriends a hawk, was another book that I really dug at the time.  These stories combined the eternal struggle of man vs. nature, and the charm of individualism and self in the face of adversity, in these stories I found the unique question of the reader "how would I react in this scenario"; in a way, the foundation of literary Analysis. 

Horror, on the other hand, simply let me revel in my boyish infatuation with the twisted and macabre.  Does anyone else remember those More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books?  I used to read those by the set (there were more knock-off serieses than I can list, and those were great, but nothing beats the originals).  Those terrifying-yet-un-skippable stories by Alvin Schwartz combined with Stephen Gammell's nightmare inducing illustrations strictly appealed to my early fascination with the unknown.  Did those books have any literary merit? No.  Did they scare the pants off me? Yes.  Did I (do I still) love them? Yes! Yes! Yes!  And for those that may not pay as much attention to Banned Book Week as the English Majors, just a heads up, those books were number one on the Most Banned or Challenged Book list for years.

Let's change gears again and skip ahead to high school. In high school I was fortunate enough to have a teacher that allowed us to choose our own books for book reports.  This was a freedom I hadn't had since elementary school.  Finally able to decide what to read, find something I enjoyed, get away from the drudgery of assigned reading, find new meaning int he written word!  So I started experimenting with authors like Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, Augusten Burroughs, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Tom Wolfe, Douglas Adams, and a whole cavalcade of authors that caught my interest.  But there was one book in particular that changed everything I knew/know about a narrative.  A book you've never heard of.  Brian Clevinger, internet famed author of 8-bit theater and the comic book series "Atomic Robo".  In his book Nuklear Age, Clevinger tells the story of the goofy, lovable, idiot man-child superhero Nuklear Man and his reluctant and much more intelligent side kick Atomik Lad (Sparky).  This almost 700 page novel goes through the antics (and sometimes mundane) lives of being a superhero.  It's comedic, heartwarming, intriguing, and fun-filled.  *SPOILER*SPOILER*SPOILER*SPOILER*SPOILER*THIS IS A SPOILER WARNING*  But then, after around page 600, the book takes an unforeseeable change; one that turned the way I look at the basic hero narrative on its head.  The unaware main character turns into the most powerful being in the universe, a villain kills half the worlds population in a second, and Sparky's girlfriend, who the reader has come to absolutely fall in love with, is killed off.  And all these changes are permanent.  The hero in a single moment looses the love of his life, and his best friend/mentor.  And the book ends.  But it is one of the most unexpected, satisfying endings to a book I've ever read.  Why? Because it felt real.  The ending came to its natural conclusion, and though it pains me every time I read it (at least once every couple years), it is the only way it could have ended.

So why am I talking about all these books I love to read?  Because I believe, above all else, relateable content that a student can sink their teeth into is the most important part of someone becoming interested in reading.  If you use content that the students are interested in, they will want to read, and if they want to read, it's a good thing.  If a student likes what they are reading, they can begin more steps into high reading: asking questions, analyzing the text, seeking out other books of interest.

What's the Difference Between School and Home?

Nothing when you're parents are teachers.  And especially nothing when your parents have been retired since you were 12 and were home all the time.  Lolzerz.  One thing I love about my parents is that they're always willing to help me with my school-work.  My dad has a Masters and over 30 years of social studies experience, so I still call him when I have problems with a Poli Sci paper.  And my mom was a librarian for the jr. high/high school her last 15 years, and she sends me 2-3 YAL books a month that I "Just have to read and own and put on my classroom bookshelf".  And I try to. 

Anyway, I recently visited the rest of my family in Ohio (both mom and dad's sides) and one thing that I realized is that my dad's side of the family truly knows how to tell a story, and my mom's side does not.  Now let me start with my mom's side; I'm not trying to be a jerk here, but those people can not, for the life of them, tell a linear, concise story.  They end up adding unnecessary and overcomplicated details that throws the listener off, and then they pause at odd times, I suppose to either let you sort the jumbled mess out in your head or to give a response.  They're great people and I love them, but if I had a choice between a three hour car ride with them,m during which my lips were sewn shut, and reading the entire Twilight saga including the Bree Tanner novella; I'd rather take the car ride, but just barely.

Now my dad's side of the family is the other side of the coin.  Apparently, you couldn't get my grandpa to close his trap, even if you paid the cheap SOB (families words, not mine).  And he passed that down to his five children, my dad being the oldest and Nancy (the one I actually got to visit with) the second.  Well ol' dad and me got in the car and drove up to Coschocton (actual spelling), and had a visit with Nancy, her husband (my uncle, you'd know that if you were following along!) and their daughter Jodi.  And I swear, from the minute we sat down, till we left (4ish hours later), there was not a single pause in the conversation.  I haven't laughed that much in a coons age.  A story wouldn't even finish before the laughter started, and someone else would begin telling another, which in turn was followed by laughter and another story.  Partly because we all knew (or could guess) how the story was going to end, partly because we inherently know how to tell a story, and partly because we wanted to tell our tale next. 

There is a rhythm to story telling (and writing) that almost leads you through the telling.  Once you get a feel for your audience, things like pauses, exaggerations, hand gestures, expressions, colloquialisms etc. become naturalistic.  When you get on a roll, you know it, and it's that moment when you have everyone listening (or reading), in the palm of your hand.  You can almost sense when you have obtained the perfect balance of context and cadence, and that moment, is pure joy.  At least, if you're a Clark it is.

Educational Blogging

So for another class, I have to discuss on my blog (no way I'm making a different one after coming up with the perfect name) some educational blogs and how blogs can be used in a classroom.  Well first I think I'm going to use our lovely teacher Amy's blog More than Words, since she was the first teacher I've known to have her students create their own blog. http://content-area-learning.blogspot.com/   I never really thought about using blogs as a teaching tool.  But from the some of the sites I've come across, that's the direction some elementary schools are headed (especially in New Zealand apparently).  There are blogs like 2M Gems, where the teacher posts things not only related to her classroom, but also whatever is on her mind: http://www.2mgems.blogspot.com/  Which I think is neat because the students can use it for review.  Or there are blogs such as Room 9 Nelson Central's Blog 2007, which has student made videos (probably an assignment) posted on the page for parents to see what their children are doing: http://room9nelsoncentral.blogspot.com/ 

Alright well neat, that should do it.  Thanks for following, tune in next week... or whenever I post for the most recent updates on things that concern me. Same blog post, same blog internets!

ME!!!

Ok, well this is the part where I talk about me, because lets face it, if you're reading this then you're REALLY interested in me and what I have to say (or you're doing it because you have to).

I was originally born in southeastern Ohio and grew up about an hour out of Columbus.  Back then my parents were both teachers at a rural high school.  During that time I attended Holy Trinity Elementary school, went swimming everyday of the summer, and read non-stop.  When I turned 12, my parents retired and we moved to Utah so that my dad could fulfill his dream of becoming a ski bum.  Which he successfully did.  I attended Wasatch High and graduated in '07, and I've been at Utah State ever since.

I'm beginning my fifth and final year at Utah State, and I couldn't be more happy to graduate.  After spending all this time pursuing an English Education degree, my goal is within sight.  Last spring I completed my English clinical at Logan High, and at some point this semester (if I ever get assigned a school), I'll be doing my Poli Sci clinical.  I decided English because according to the ACT I'm not too good at Math or Science.  Also, those are boring.  English has the perfect balance of intellectual thought, entertainment, and human understand; that's why it's so appealing to me. Ok blah blah background, blah blah stuff you don't care about, now onto the fun things.

Pens 'N Rails.  Titles, (especially blog titles), are hard.  I once had a Shakespeare professor at UVSC (they will never be a university in my eyes ever since they lost my ACT and I had to retake it), who would give you a zero on a perfectly good paper if the title either A.) was too boring; B.) had quote "stupid font"; or C.) was a pun.  Seriously, he would throw your paper away without reading it, yet people still turned in papers with 18 point Serra-fin font and titles like "Eng 2300 Paper #2!".  But one thing I've learned after all this time gettin fancy book learning, is that I enjoy writing.  Not that I'm any good at it, but I found a joy and a freedom in writing, even essays, (which I've done a lot of).  There is a thrill in making commentary with the knowledge that someone will read it.  Hence, the Pen.

My other passion is skiing.  I've had skis strapped to my feet since I was four.  Even though I grew up in Ohio, I learned to rip sticks and flow pow in Colorado, and since then I've skied in 5 different states.  In high school I could buy a season pass to the Canyons for $70.  I missed a lot of class in high school.  Though I'm not stellar at park, I've been trying some stuff at Beaver Mountain, and I think I'm getting the hang of it.