A Reluctant Adult

As I sat on my porch tonight, I was surrounded by that perfect stillness of a warm, muggy summer night. Despite the fact it is still early May, the weather today carried notes of summer on the wings of the breezes and the distant roll of thunder in the background. The silence of an impending storm always puts me in a theoretical mood. As I sat there watching the muted flashes of lightening behind the heavy clouds, I felt a pleasant heaviness wash over me. I am 27 years old; I am grown up and these past few years have seen many changes in my life that all seem to point to adulthood on the horizon. I have not officially accepted it yet, but I feel it looming. As the title of my blog indicates, I am at best a reluctant member of the adult world. At times, I am skeptical that this is really what all that "when I grow up" business was really about. Robert Frost said two roads diverged in a wood and he took the one less traveled. But life so far has taught me that where we end up...

This past Saturday at 7:30pm, I found myself getting off a school bus for the last time this year. We had arrived back from the Minnesota High School League State Speech Tournament. It was the last speech tournament of the year. We went. We spoke. We conquered (kind of). I was acutely aware of the fact that it was the last time I would work with this particular group of students. Watching those students file off the bus for the last time this season was a bit like a little bereavement. Many of them were seniors. Most of them would not be back the following year. It was an ending. And for those of you who have never spoken to me and are unaware of this, I have never been a fan of endings.   As a teacher, each June I must send my students out into the real world, aware of the fact that many I will never see or hear from again. They will become just another face in what will inevitably become a vast ocean of faces populating my career. And that's part of the job. And as a teacher, I c...

The English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge said  in 1817 that reading required a "willing suspension of disbelief" from the reader. In other words, the reader must voluntarily and consciously agree to believe the author, no matter how fantastical the plot or unlikely the outcome. This willing suspension of disbelief--this voluntary pretending--allows us, as adults, to experience the world the way a child does. You see, children start out believing in the impossible. They believe the world is good, and wonderful, and that magic lurks around every corner. But children are in a hurry to be adults. They quickly become jaded and caustic. Teens, especially, are eager to be more "grown up." They don't realize that in growing up, they're sacrificing the most precious gift they're born with: the gift of belief. An easy ability to believe, to hope, and to have faith. The ability to get totally and unabashedly excited about something. Of course, we adults still d...

I am something of a classicist when it comes to literature, and this recently has been a subject of debate among not only my department, but English departments across the country. Is there truly a benefit to students in reading the so-called "canon" of literature? Do Hemingway and Steinbeck truly teach our students more than the teen books they might otherwise prefer? One colleague in my department--who I respect enormously--questioned at a recent meeting whether or not we should truly be teaching Shakespeare at all in this day and age. Once I recovered from my shock (it took me five days to do so) I had this to say... Yes, we should. And while I think that response should suffice, I'll explain. First, do not misunderstand me. I am a fan of all literature, and I read voraciously both classic and contemporary works. I am a huge fan of Jonathan Lethem (read Motherless Brooklyn, my all-time favorite), Connie Willis, and Jasper Fforde. I see the value in contemporary ...

In the district where I am employed, we recently passed a renewal levy worth three million dollars...by 59 votes. As if that slim margin wasn't disheartening enough, one (crabby) lady living in the district has petitioned to have the levy recounted at the expense of the school district. Apparently that $25 a year she'll save if the levy doesn't pass is her bingo money. And we all know how important that is. Bitterness aside (temporarily), I am baffled by people's reluctance in this country to support public education or those who make public education their career. I am disgusted by the lack of respect teachers receive from many Americans, including those whose children are currently in public schools. I understand I am biased; education is my livelihood, of course I'd like to see people willing to pay for it (and me) in spades. But I accept that this isn't the case. I just don't quite understand why. Recently the NEA published an article about an essay ...

I know that some people reading this may disagree with what I am about to say, but today is National Coming Out Day, and if I can't say it today, when can I?   I work in a high school and I am a straight ally. I see kids everyday struggle with the knowledge that they are gay. Few students will ever feel comfortable coming out while they are still  in high school--peer pressure and fear of not fitting in are too strong. But some will. And I am appalled at the reaction most of them will have to face. I'm going on my third year at this school, and I have had three students come out to me in those three years, and another two students who let me know in a sort of round-about way. In one case, I was the first to know. In three of the others, I knew before most of the students' friends and family. As I talk to these students, I hear their uncertainty, their fear of judgement, their terror at having to redefine who they are--who they want to be. I see their pain as family member...

I make pickles. I make good pickles. They involve garlic and dill and vinegar. And red chili peppers. I don't particularly like chili peppers because I don't particularly like capsaicin, that nasty chemical that sears the all it comes in contact with and makes your eyes water. I've always been a little perplexed by people's love of hot food, but to each his own, right? Last Thursday, I decided to make pickles using the suggested amount of red chili peppers. I buy the generic red chili peppers, so they aren't particularly hot, but they do have a kick. In the past when working with these I have had the misfortune of touching my nose, which produced the aforementioned burning sensation in my nostrils, watery eyes, and much cussing. Since then, I've become smarter about my peppers and wash my hands at least a half a dozen times when working with them. This was certainly true this time since they seemed to possess a greater than average amount of seeds, and as all ...