Saturday, January 30, 2010

What Relaxation is Supposed to Look Like



On Wednesday night Marty and I were invited to meet up with friends for trivia night at a local bar.  By the time the call came in, I was already enshrouded in my coziest comfy clothes and was preparing to settle in for a late-January evening of hibernation.   I declined the offer, grabbed a kiss goodbye from Mart, poured a glass of boxed Cabernet Sauvignon (yes, we get classy here at 37 Westford), and drew myself a bath in our newly renovated upstairs bathroom.  As the water filled the tub, I readied the Dave Wilcox station on Last FM, lit some candles, and dimmed the lights. 
I then retreated downstairs, bribed Joey into her crate with a piece of Puperonni, and checked in on Tao who was perched comfortably on a chair in the dining room.
Back upstairs, I dipped my toes in to test the water, which was just right, dropped the towel, and submerged myself.
Ahhh…
Two second later, my ahhh moment was shrilly disrupted by the ring of my work cell, which sat positioned atop a stack of ungraded papers on the desk in my office down the hall.  This spooked Tao who scampered into the bathroom and made a skidding stop that sent the bathmat flying into the speaker, which, precariously placed as it was, careened into my goblet of wine.
Argh…
So there I stood, naked and shivering, mopping wine from the newly laid tiles with toilet paper as Tao skirted around me, trying for a taste of the red fluid that was now seeping into the grout.  As you can guess, toilet paper isn’t designed for a mess of this caliber and it disintegrated into messy balls that stuck to the floor and to my hands.  As I stood at the sink washing the incident clean, I thought:  okay, I may be one glass of wine down, but I ain't givin' up yet.
Stepping back into the tub, the once warm water was now only luke, so I emptied it a bit and refilled it to my liking.  Within minutes, Tao rejoined me – as curious as ever – and insisted that she sit on the edge of the tub and oscillate between batting at her own distorted reflection, and staring critically at my exposed body as if to say, “Yuck, lady, would you cover yourself?  This is disguuussting.”

In the meantime, the soothing tunes coming from my speaker ceased to be as the battery fizzled to a statically hum and died, only to be replaced by a yelping, Joey who insisted that she needed to go outside now, and that now means NOW Ow Ow Ow Yowl...!
I acquiesced, rose dripping wet, shooed Tao from the edge of the tub, wrapped a towel around me, and relented down the stairs to retrieve Joey from her crate and let her outside - all the while, she insisting that that licking droplets of water from my legs was far better than drinking from her bowl.
If this is life with cat and dog, I need at least another decade to preen my patience before I even think of having kids.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Magic of Synchronicity

Talk about the oddities of intertextual concurrence. Just hours after I wrote the poem below (Feeding on Nectar), I got in my car to drive to a meeting and when I turned the key in the ignition, a song I had never heard before was coming through my speakers. This was it:
 
Coincidence?  I like to think not. 

The poem happens to be about my mother and it touches on the legacy her grandparents left behind, as well as the imagoes that have shaped my life and the way I view the world around me via my mother’s influence.   As for the song, it feels like it could have been written by the great B. Holligan herself; it resonates very deeply with me as it reflects many of the feelings I was attempting to capture in the poem.



There's a wild, wild whisper blowin’ in the wind
Callin’ out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Ooh nothing’s sweeter than summertime
And American honey

Gone for so long now
I gotta’ get back to her somehow
To American honey


-“American Honey,” Lady Antebellum



Above is a photo of a cross stitch my mother made and gave to me this past Christmas.  It hangs in my hallway and reminds me daily of my Great Grandpa Wright who tended bees, and of my mother who maintains warm childhood memories of accompanying him to collect honey from the bee boxes.  On the back of the frame that houses the cross stitch is a laminated copy of my grandfather’s signature.  I never met the wonderful Edgar Wright my mother so often speaks of, but for as much as my mom carries him with her, I feel as though I have. 

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Feeding on Nectar

Elbow on the stovetop, jar in
Her left hand.
Amber icicles melted
From silver
As they met her
Tongue and catalyzed
The tales of a girlhood
Later supplanted
By too many confessions.

Smaller versions of herself
Alighted upon each utterance
With sodden lips and
Visages crimson from flight.

               Let me tell ya’ ‘bout
               The birds and the bees
               And the flowers and the trees and
               The moon up above

               And a thing called love.


Years later:

My thoughts siphon
Widowed images:
Toes warmed in the crooks of arms;
The laughter that followed
My plunge from a virgin dock;
Cunning glances;
Stolen smiles;
Feet finding feet
Beneath murky waters.

I recoil
Then surrender
And finally I speak:
“I always thought
My children would know
The taste
Of the bees’ labor
With their own tongues.”

Droplets convene,
Gather momentum, and slide
Like honey down glass.
She sighs heavily
And offers
No response.

I lift my hand to my face.
              It comes back sticky.

-CLH
                                             

Friday, January 22, 2010

Retake 20

Yesterday afternoon I was filmed to appear in a documentary entitled “Retake 20”. The film is being modeled after another entitled “Take 20” - a short documentary directed by Todd Taylor from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The initial hour-long film centers around the responses to 20 questions posed to 22 scholars in the field of composition and “captures a corner of an ongoing conversation about current practices, changing conditions, and emerging ideas around the teaching of writing” (Bedford/St. Martin’s).


“Retake 20” intends to complement and expand upon the dialogue opened in Taylor’s work by offering a platform for the often unheard, commonly muffled voices of part-time and contingent faculty who currently teach 75% of all first year writing courses in institutions of higher learning across America. The film is expected to premiere at the 4C’s conference in Louisville in March.


Here are the questions I was asked to answer, along with a sketched version of my response:


Q: What do you remember about your first time teaching?
A: I remember my apprehension and my intense awareness that teaching was probably the most out-of-character thing I could have chosen to do (I had, and still have, a strong aversion to attention from large groups of people). I also recall the very small age gap between myself and my students. The average student was 18-19 years old and I had just turned 21. As a result, it took a good five minutes for me to quiet the class and convince them that, yes, I was their instructor. More than anything else, I recall an innate fear that one day the Fraud Police were going to burst through the door of my classroom and drag me off stage with an over-sized Charlie Chaplin cane. After all, who really has any idea what they’re doing that first semester – there was so much trial and error involved before I came to a place where I began to feel that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to get the whole teaching thing right.


Q: What are the aims of your writing course?
A: The principal aims of my writing course are a) to assist students in finding out that writing can be…gasp… fun. b) assist students in finding their individual voice as a writer. c) assist students in understanding the role writing plays as a tool for thinking, and processing the world(s) they live in. d) assist student in increasing their confidence in their skills as writers and communicators. d) assist students to walk away from the class feeling deeply proud of at least one of the pieces they wrote during the course of the semester.c.) HAVE FUN!



Q: What is the biggest surprise about teaching writing?
A: I am surprised every single day by my students’ capabilities


Q: How do you organize your course syllabus?
A: I take each day and each class session as it comes. I determine assignments and the pace of assignments based on the needs of each class as a whole.


Q: In what ways are the realities of your job as an adjunct different from or the same as what you expected?
A: I can’t say I went into it with specific expectations. Adjuncting is what it is. You do it because you love to teach, even if it means you are rewarded with meager wages.


Q: What is the one thing that every adjunct writing teacher should know?
A: Every adjunct should know exactly what drives them to take on the position they have assumed. If you can’t identify and intrinsically know and be in touch with the passion you have for what you do on a daily basis, you should reconsider why you’re doing it to begin with.


Q: How do you create a writing assignment?
A: I base assignments on the interests of the students, on the needs, and skills, and strengths, and goals of the class. I strive to create an atmosphere where my students’ strengths are highlighted, and I attempt to do the same in creating writing assignments – while at the same time enabling students to practice improving the areas in which they may be lacking.


Q: How do you address process and product?
A: 90% process. 10% product. As important as the final product is, the struggle and joy are in the process. There is no product without process. This is so for all areas of life.


Q: What do you wish you had been taught in grad school but weren’t?
A: There was a time when I wished I had been taught how to teach, but now I am grateful that I wasn’t. Not being taught how to teach has forced me to conduct my own process of trial and error, figure out what works and what doesn’t, to be the student and let my students be the teachers, to figure out who I am as a facilitator and how I can best provide for my students. Had I simply been told all of these things, I wouldn’t have found my own way or found a that works best for me and for the person I am.


Q: How do you respond to student writing?
A: Always in pencil. I consistently remind my students that an author can feel finished with a piece of writing, but no piece of writing is ever finished. Therefore, my marks and feedback should be as temporary as the stage they are at in their writing process. Every aspect of creation is in a constant state of being “revisable” and I want my erasable marks to reflect that temporality.


Q: What have you learned from your students?
A: The question should instead be “What haven’t you learned from your students?” I learn from them every day.


Q: How has technology (re)shaped your teaching?
A: Although I have taught online before and used blogs as a way to supplement the ongoing discussions occurring in the traditional classroom, the largest impact upon instruction would have to be email. When I was a student, my professors were available to me when they were standing before me – email had not fully come into the fore as an acceptable mode of communication between students and teachers. It was more typical for me to seek out my professors face-to-face than to pose my inquiries in an email. As an instructor today, however, I am able to make myself available to my students sixteen hours a day – they know they can email me if they have questions, require feedback, or want to schedule a time to meet. This makes me more available to them, and I hope it gives them the sense that even if they’re sitting alone in their dorm room at 8:00pm having difficulty with a piece that’s due the next day, they’re not entirely alone.


Q: What textbook/reader do you use and what guides your decision?
A: The Norton Field Guide to Writing with Readings and Handbook. I just adopted this text this semester, so only time will tell if the decision I made was a sound one; I chose it because it’s versatile, nicely organized, and all-inclusive.


Q: What scholar/theory informs your classroom practice?
A: I don’t rely on theory to inform my classroom practice. The simple adage “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you” is the principle that informs the dynamic of the classes I teach. A successful writing classroom environment requires kindness, respect, and an open mind. A class devoid of even one of these qualities creates a recipe for disaster.


Q: How do you stay current with best practices in writing instruction?
A: I feel that the the most effecitve to stay current with best practices is writing instruction is to stay current and in tune to my students’ needs and lifestyles. If I am not in tune to the way they live and what they are immersed in outside of the classroom, it’s difficult to create connections with them and between them. When that connection is absent, very little real learning occurs.


Q: What’s the most exciting thing you’ve done recently in your classroom?
A: Placed more control in the hands of the students. I have begun to offer them choices when we have the time and flexibility to do so (ex: “Do you need more time to work on this particular assignment, or are you ready to move onto something new?" "Would you like to continue this conversation next class, or should we talk about _____?”). I want them to see that this is THEIR class, not mine, and that they are in control of their own learning and advancement.


Q: How do you approach or address issues of plagiarism in the classroom?
A: I approach the topic of plagiarism as a teaching tool to assist students in better understanding and respecting the reasons for citation standards and formats. (First, define plagiarism – talk about what it is, why it happens, how to avoid it, etc. Then, explain why we cite and why and when certain formatting types are used. Finally, show how to use formatting types when conducting research and incorporating citations into a work.)


Q: What’s on the horizon for writing instruction in the 21st century?
A: With language being as organic as it has proven to be, I believe we are on the brink of a major evolution in English language usage. With the advent of social networking sites, IM, and texting, the way we use language is rapidly shifting. I believe writing instructors must be in tune to these changes and willing to address them in the classroom.


Q: What is the biggest challenge you face in your teaching?
A: Trying to help students to wipe the slate clean. Many students come to class with negative experiences from past English courses, as well as negative impressions of themselves as writers. My biggest challenge is in getting them to open their mind to a new experience, and open their hearts to the possibility that writing can be something they can be good at, and that they can enjoy doing. 

Q: What--if anything--would improve the conditions of your job?
A: Because a large percentage of adjunct instructors cannot survive on an adjunct salary alone, most of us supplement our incomes with second and even third jobs. Sometimes these secondary commitments deter us from focusing on teaching and teaching alone. Better pay would enable us to do perform at our maximum capacity.


Q: What’s next for your career as a writing teacher?
A: I don’t know. I ask myself that same question regularly. The one thing I am sure of is that teaching, despite it being the most out-of-character thing I have ever undertaken, has somehow seeped into my blood. I hope that no matter where I end up, or what I do, I will always be teaching in some form.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Looking at the World with a New Set of Eyes


Pre-Lasik: Martyn camping on Lake George last summer



Post Lasik, Day One: We laughed for a good five minutes when I taped this contraption on his face the night after his surgery. He was instructed to wear it for two nights so no harm was done to the eyes while sleeping. Through my snorting laughter, I told him “If I wake up with Malaria, I’ll know who to blame.” The poor guy looked like a mosquito!


Post Lasik, Day 6: The new and improved MJS!


Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Why Revise?

Revision
Pronunciation: \ri-ˈvi-zhən\
Function: noun
1 a : an act of revising b : a result of revising / Synonym: alteration
2 : a revised version
_______________________________________________


Revision, by literal definition, means to “re-see”.


When I teach, I urge my students to revise a piece numerous times before calling it “done”, and yet I always remind them that an author may be “done” writing a piece, but a piece is never “done” – it’s never complete, never finished. No matter how many times we look at something ---be it an essay, a character trait, a relationship, or even life itself-- if we try hard enough, we can “re-see” it from a new angle, with a different light, and then find some way, even if it’s hardly detectable to the naked eye, to make it a better form of what it already is.


The synonym for revision, as listed in Merriam Webster is “alteration”. Every day we are all, in some small way, being altered, altering, or on the brink of alteration; we are revising or being revised.


A week ago today, while having dinner with my mom, I was explaining the procedure Martyn would endure the following day while undergoing Lasik surgery on his eyes. We talked at length about how it was both scary (god forbid something happen), and exciting (glasses wearers: imagine the freedom of life without frames on your face!). During our discussion I mentioned that it was, in a silly and selfish way, sad for me. My mother looked bewilderingly at me and I explained:


Since the day I met Martyn, he has had a pair of glasses on his face. When we took our first date (I, 17. He, 19) to the Macroni Grill and then to Crossgates Mall to see Hope Floats, he had glasses on his face. When he came to visit me in college, he entered my first dorm room with glasses on his face. When he helped me pack my last of three college apartments up and move back home to my parents’, he had glasses on his face. When he signed his signature on the papers to buy our house, he had glasses on his face. When he stood beside me in a kennel of eight puppies and we decided on Joey, he had glasses on his face. Martyn with glasses is the only Martyn I have ever known, I explained. And as the weeks dwindled to days, and the days dwindled to hours, I mourned the loss of Martyn as I know him – with glasses.


Of course, as you can imagine, the expression on my mother’s face at the tail end of this explanation was one of pity. You sorry little soul, I am sure she was thinking. But, my mother being my mother, opened her lips and simply said: “I have never known anyone to overthink ‘final moments’ as intensely as you do.”

And she is right.


As I look back over my past, I remember them all: hitting the last chord as my fifth grade class sang “One Moment in Time” at the final, farewell assembly at Elsmere School; saying goodbye to my childhood playmate Patrick Thompson at the corner of Ridge and watching him walk off down Kenwood for the last time, and onto another street, and then into a new life in Great Barrington, Massachusetts; knocking on Tara’s bedroom door for the last time, on the last night she slept at home before going away to Springfield College; hitting the light switch and turning around to view chairs overturned onto desks in Mr. Straw’s classroom at Bethlehem High School, then closing the door and walking down the hall and out the front entrance of BCHS with Nicole Greer for the very last time; placing the final items in our friend Matt’s bread delivery truck and pulling out of my parents’ driveway with the last load of my belongings to be moved four miles away and into my first home; the last hug I gave to Meghan the last time I saw her before she left town again...

the list goes on…


Life is full of lasts, isn’t it? I am on the cusp of a phase in my life that is bound to bring on many, many lasts and I know these lasts will be very difficult for a girl who doesn’t do well with alteration, so my resolution is to attempt my best at re-seeing beside Marty, at recognizing that, as they say, the beauty of each “last” is the start of a new first.


With the Lasik behind him, he is experiencing firsts every day: laying down on the coach and placing his head down on the pillow without crushing the stem of his glasses against his temple is among one of his most exciting “firsts”. Equally thrilling is waking up and wiping the sleep from his eyes and seeing clear across the room without aid, or painting our newly renovated bathroom without having to reach to wipe splotches of blue off his lenses. And I look forward to all of the firsts he has yet to experience: waking at 6am, unzipping the door to the tent and exiting for a morning pee, and being able to see the sun rise clear down the length of Lake George, or throwing on any pair of non-prescription sunglasses to shield the afternoon light that reflects brightly off the lake as he cruises along in the boat.


He is re-seeing. Re-seeing = Re-vision.


…And as the days move one to the next and I, too, revise (both by choice and by force), I will strive to be as engaged with my own personal revision process as I urge my students to be.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Here Goes… (Nothing?)

Entering the blogosphere is something I have wanted to do for a quite some time now, and yet I write my maiden post with great trepidation.

For the last couple years I have followed the regular postings on both popular blogs with mass followings and private blogs whose readership is reserved to doting family members and interested friends. Each time I grab a cup of coffee and settle in for my daily or weekly read, I seek to satiate my voyeuristic needs by catching a glimpse into what makes each blogger tick. Their blogs give me insight into what they love about their children, why they chose a specific recipe to feed the large group they had ‘round their dinner table the night before, why they did or did not enjoy a certain vacation spot. When I am done, I find myself wondering what it is about me that makes me quizzical about the lives of people I have never met or barely know. The answer: They entertain me. I like the way they weave their words in ways I always wish I could to portray a snuggly Saturday morning at home, the smell of their vegetable soup cooking on the stove, or an epiphany they had while brushing their teeth. But more importantly: I am enlivened with the knowledge that every moment they share from their own lives helps me be more present in my own.

I suppose what I am getting at here is that my fear in taking this little project on stems from my complete and utter belief that I have very little to offer to others by way of putting my experiences into words. And the most disheartening part of all: I stand up in front of twenty college students six times a week and preach to them the many reasons why it’s important that they make their voice heard, and their experiences known through their writing. Yes, in the deepest recesses of my private, non-teacher life I am a hypocrite. Although on occasion I will admit to a class that I have an irrational fear of reading my own writing out loud, how could I maintain an ounce of credibility if I looked out into a sea of inquisitive young adult eyes and said, “The thing that keeps me from writing with reckless abandon is my fear that no one will care what I have to say.”

So… although I have scratched “Entertain others” from my very short list entitled “Reasons to Keep a Blog”, I am holding firmly to the initial muse that inspired me to begin anyway: my desire to create a photojournal of life – a place I can document and scrapbook my “Moments of Being”: a cute Joey moment; a moment of rapture shared among friends on a boat on the lake; the “glow” that emanates from my mother’s face when my whole family is together in one room; a completed masterpiece of Martyn’s...you get the idea. And…since I am baring my soul here, I have one more secret to confide: I always aspired to be a photojournalist for National Geographic, but since Nat Geo ain’t knocking down my door, I’ll have to stick to the world I see around me. After all, Tim O’Brien got it right in his novel The Things They Carried:

“You take your material where you find it, which is in your life, at the intersection of past and present. The memory-traffic feeds into a rotary up on your head, where it goes in circles for a while, then pretty soon imagination flows in and the traffic merges and shoots off down a thousand different streets. As a writer, all you can do is pick a street and go for the ride, putting things down as they come at you.”

So, Tim, here goes…I am going to take this ride, and put some things down when they come to me.