Scrolling through all my former posts, I rediscovered a forgotten series I started way back when I first began blogging: quotes from writers.
Here is a quote found in Marja Mills’ The Mockingbird Next Door, a biography on Harper Lee:
p. 80:
[referring to her lifetime habit of reading, which she traces to her family reading aloud to her when young]
Now, 75 years later in an abundant society where people have laptops, cell phones, iPods, and minds like empty rooms, I still plod along with books. Instant information is not for me. I prefer to search library stacks because when I work to learn something, I remember it.
This quote encapsulates my philosophy about the learning process. As a teacher, I encourage students to look up information so that they will better remember it. The brain is a muscle and it needs a workout to stay strong and viable. I use both technology and the library stacks, yet I prefer thumbing through books over scrolling screens any day.
While I’m not particularly a fan of Virginia Woolf, I do appreciate her unspoken contributions to women and writing. She once penned an essay discussing the need to have a room to create in, the desire to close out the responsibilities of mother and wife in order to be alone with self and creating. Rather a revolutionary idea in her time.
Though not so confined to the stove of domesticity these days, as a woman and a wife, mother, teacher, library trustee, GiGi–assorted other hat wearer, I too crave a room of my own. Carving out a space for personal creative endeavors has had its own set of challenges involving space and guilt.
We’ve tended on the small side of houses and squeezing out an area for a desk meant getting creative to find a creative corner. A door placed on top of filing cabinets worked for a time, but definitely cramped the bedroom and so we moved it out to the living room. Still squishy. Ugly to boot.
When I switched to laptops, I got rid of the desk arrangement and I splurged, buying a loveseat the color of eggplant. I eked out a coveted thinking space in the bedroom, approximating nanoseconds of creative corner. The kids loved the idea that my office was purple.
Now, as an empty nester, I’ve commandeered one of the back bedrooms, I forget which progeny actually had it since they switched around so much. None of them can complain I’ve stolen their room. They know my standard reply anyway, “Your room? It was on loan for eighteen years.” My desk is an Ikea chair complimented by matching footstool to accommodate my two laptops (I still like my antiquated Dell, as I am trying to get used to my touch screen Lenovo). I have a rocking chair for when the MEPA wants to pop in and chat and a futon for the occasional overnight guest. This is where the guilt comes in: it feels a bit me-centric to devote one entire room towards my endeavors.
I know, I know–lots of people, lots of women have sewing rooms, craft corners, workshops, man caves and suffer not a twinge of remorse. I, on the other hand, do feel a bit bad about eradicating all traces of the progeny’s room. No beds, posters, old clothes, trophies remain; they truly are a guest when they visit.
Then again, I nudge away those nipping little guilts and conclude I should have no dilemmas about acquiring a room of my own. And this is where I have my moment of truth. Possessing a room of my own means I should make use of it, shouldn’t I? Then why am I writing this in the living room?
I do my best writing while out walking. There is something about the synced coordination of brain and body both exercising at the same time–I now understand the trend towards the new kinetic desks.
After an hour of sitting down at the laptop I get antsy and start moving around, tidying up, doing laundry, futzing and such. Writing in lock down mode doesn’t work well for me. Writers who state they sit down and work office hours have my admiration. This is why I appreciate Ray Bradbury’s short story “The Pedestrian.”
Set in the future a man is out walking one night, his accustomed habit, when he is pulled over by the metro police–suspicious behavior since no one walks anymore, especially at night. The pedestrian ends up being taken in for “further questioning” when he reveals he is a writer–no one reads anymore either.
Fortunately, my walking habit is not deemed odd in our own days and times. Our little town has a refreshing diversity of walking paths and I do relish my times of walking briskly, revving up the muse and muscles. The exercise unknots plot stoppage, uncramps stiff dialogue passages, and opens up new avenues of thought, like blog posts. This one, matter of fact.
I grew up with Reading Rainbow. Well, kinda sorta. The MEPA and I were fairly strict about television (that and we didn’t want to pay for cable) and pretty much the only TV the kiddos watched came via PBS programming. Reading Rainbow won out over Sesame Street and Mister Rogers. I didn’t want the television to be their babysitter so I would plunk myself down on the couch with them and we would relish our R&R time together.
image: geocaching.com “Take a look. It’s in a book. Reading Rainbow.”
The Grammy Award winning program aired from 1983 to 2009–that’s a lot of books! Levar Burton became as recognized and as trusted as Big Bird and Mr. Rogers in guiding children towards enrichment.
When Reading Rainbow went off the air, the world seemed a bit dimmer. Even though I hadn’t watched the show for years since the progeny grew up and moved to other entertainment *sniff* I still nurtured a soft spot for Levar’s brand of book boostering; if an episode aired and I happened to have the time I would watch it. With the passing of Reading Rainbow I thought “Well, there goes that wish.” You see, I harbored the secret wish of writing a book that might be selected as a Reading Rainbow feature read.
All is not lost, because Levar has fulfilled one of his secret wishes and has purchased the Reading Rainbow brand and is creating an app for this generation. He initially hoped to raise one million dollars on Kickstarter–that amount was achieved in only one day. He recently ended his campaign with a staggering amount of over five million dollars.
For more information go directly to the website. I’m looking forward to introducing Reading Rainbow to the grandkiddo. Heck, I might download the app for myself.
Are you nostalgic for a little Reading Rainbow. Check this out:
STOP: SPOILER ALERTS for the following
Never Let Me Go
The Island
Moon
I, Robot
Oblivion
Frankenstein
Robocop
“Four legs real, fake legs baaaad.” image: nature.com
What is this fascination with the humanity aspect of clones or artificial intelligence? Why do we want to inject a soul into something man has created? Or a more defined question is: why do we explore whether man-made creations have a soul?
Is it guilt? Afterall, creation is best handled by the Creator, the One who has the Master Plan. That statement could incite a whole firestorm of commentary in itself, which is fine, but I’m really after the literary and even film aspect of cloning/artificial intelligence.
For instance, having just finished Never Let Me Go by Ishiguro, I began thinking about other cloning works: The Island,Moon, Oblivion, and while there are other aspects attached to these films, the main takeaway: “cheated.” The clones are cheated because even though they look human, act human, they are not, which becomes a matter of concern because there is an investment of empathy for these characters, yet part of me says “Wait! They aren’t real.” I feel cheated because I am tricked (seemingly) into believing and caring about something I inherently don’t subscribe to: cloning.
Have you ever tasted imitation crab? Once–thank you very much. Looks like (mostly), tastes like it (kind of), smells like (a bit), same texture (not really). After being duped into eating it I came away with the same feeling: cheated.
Duplicating sheep, crab, humans–it’s not the same, and can never be. I believe in science; I do not subscribe to Luddite philosophies, but there are moral boundaries and these boundaries keep reappearing in novels and films as guilt and even revulsion. Why?
I think we try to justify the curiosity to recreate human life through the compassion for the Creature, as in the case of Frankenstein. The Wretch had initial goodness until it met up with repeated rejection. However, Shelley pointed out the disastrous results of man attempting to recreate man.
We root for Tom Cruise (Oblivion) and Sam Rockwell (Moon) as clones, only because we thought they were human. Upon realization they were clones I immediately reneged my emotional investment–I had been cheated, someone had switched in that imitation crab.
I have no problem with robots though. The A.I. component works for me. I liked R2D2, who didn’t? And Sonny, from I, Robot? A charmer. They were machines with heart; they did not have a soul. Machines are machines. On the other hand, that fuzzy line is not so warm and fuzzy when it comes to cloning: Humans with no soul? Are these simply sophisticated machines with feelings?
Which brings me to my latest Ishiguro read, Never Let Me Go. Having heard raves about it, and having read two other of his novels, I looked forward to this particular one. Ishiguro’s style of unreliable first person narrative and undercurrent, deceptively complex plot is very much evident. It wasn’t until about halfway through I realized I’d been cheated. Here I thought Ruth, Kathy, and Tommy were victims of a cruel government experiment, only to discover (oh so subtly) they are clones. Dissapointment. I finished the novel, although I felt a detached flatness. No joy in that one. I did feel a resonance with Robocop, but then has man trapped in a machine. And even though he was mostly machine I rooted for him because people I can relate to–fake crab, not.
Anyone else have thoughts on cloning in literature in regards to character empathy?
I have been quite remiss in my blog hostessing. Usually I invite new followers to add their name to the Book Booster roster. If you are a recent follower, please accept my apologies for not having invited you sooner. What’s a Book Booster? This is the detailed link and here is the short version: Read books? Recommend books? Buy or checkout books by the armload? Have a TBR list and stack longer and taller than Superman can leap over in a single bound? Consider yourself a Book Booster and consider this your invite.
What are the benefits?
If you are hoping for a Barnes and Noble discount, I’m afraid the details are still sketchy on that one.
And reserved parking at the library is still being negotiated.
I am still working on that secret handshake.
However, you can revel in the knowledge you are in great company and you can spend hours clicking to connect with other Book Boosters.
While I can’t guarantee all the links are still active I can ensure you will no doubt discover a few new blogs to follow, and in turn they will no doubt find and follow you and that Six Steps Separation thing gets one step closer to becoming a big blogging bunch of Book Boosters.
What? You’re not on the list and you thought you were? I can fix that…
So send me your “Of course add me to the roster” approval and then it’s happy browsing.
My latest spotlight is on another blogger whom I’ve exchanged commentaries since the beginning of my blogging foray.
In his own words:
Everyone calls me Ste J. I am an obsessive book creature, in fact I spend more time between the (book) covers (I read in bed as well though) than I do with ‘real’ people.
Which means I probably spend more time with you guys than anyone else. Feel privileged.
Ste J is a bona fide bibliophiliac. He loves books. That’s a bonafide fact. Proof: he once read 100 books in 362 days, just to see if he could do it. His blog is neatly organized into genre and with a mere click, a person can investigate reviews and titles. His tastes are eclectic, his insights meaningful, and his replies clever.
Lately, his posts have wandered a bit off the original track of being primarily bookish in content and he writes on whim. I can relate. I too have strayed from my original intent of providing astute book reviews that would dazzle and benefit bookdom and have taken to writing as serendipity taps the muse.
So, I hope you will check out Book to the Future and meet the intrepid Ste J, where as his banner states “more book than a mad ‘orse.”
Here begins a series of spotlights about blogs I follow. Maybe you’ll become a follower too!
When I first began blogging about two years ago I noticed a trio of bloggers who often stopped by my posts and left chatty comment bits. Quite encouraging and fun, actually. Think about it–we tip tap out our words, launch them out, and hope to spark some kind of response. Often off-the-cuff comments lead into revelations and further discussions.
Eagle- Eyed Editor has always encouraged me to dig a bit deeper by providing both thought provoking, as well as, humorous posts. Recipient of Freshly Pressed. Twice. Many of 3E’s posts concern the impact of social media. Try out this post.
I mentioned I would show the “Look Up” video to my students and pass on the response:
I decided not to show my freshmen the video since I didn’t think they would get or receive the message as well as my seniors; plus, I was rather annoyed with my freshmen by the end of the year with their constant need to peek at their phones during class. Confiscating phones became a sideline to teaching at a point. I should have asked for commission. Maybe that was their response: they have such an addiction to texting, snap chatting, and twittering that they can’t stop themselves even when the consequences are dear. In fact, some freshmen students are so addicted to their iDevices they can’t bear to be parted. This came to light when we were practicing our monthly required fire drill in May. We file out, I lock the door, we stand on the edge of the parking lot, wait for the all clear. Ten or fifteen minutes later, it’s a checklist item for admin. Purses, backpacks, coats, etc are all left behind. Not phones. “The room’s locked. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” A look of indecision and then a shake of the head, accompanied by clutching. “No, I must have my phone with me. I have to.” Is there a twelve step program for technology addiction?
Seniors were more blatant about their phone usage, but they were more compliant if I said “This is a no-device portion of class.” They understood time and place I blithely thought. Most of them used their phones and pads to actually look up meaningful additions to the learning process. Others didn’t. Really? Clash of Clans? From our saluatorian? Actually, I guess I was rather annoyed with my seniors by the end of the year as well. Perhaps this is why the “Look Up” video sparked the discussion that it did–they recognized the message because it was directed at many of them.
“Yet another example of how bad technology is for society,” one student stated, with thinly veiled sarcasm.
From across the room came the reply, “But if the technology weren’t there as a temptation people wouldn’t be tempted.
Across the room discussions rarely go well. Fortunately the bell rang, with the discussion still lingering as students trailed out, I would safely say there rang a truth some of my students were uncomfortable with: technology is an increasing demand on their lives, more than they care to admit.
So perhaps this generation, the one born with a device in one hand and a pacifier in the other, will swing the other way with their own children, like mine did concerning the tolerance of cigarettes and television, and decide “technology is detrimental to our well being.” I wonder will there be tech free zones established in the future? “No tech usage within 25 feet of building entrance.” “We’d like the tech-free section, please.” “I’ll have the tech-lite, please.”
Thanks again to Eagle Eyed Editor for providing blog posts which stimulate classroom discussions. I hope you will check out 3E’s blog–you won’t be disappointed.
If you are here it’s because the Jane Austen in the title tweaked your interest, right? Well, beyond being one of THE best writers in the literary canonical group of authors listed in the universal TBR list, she is actually a teacher. Actually, Stanford neurobiologists and English professor Natalie Phillips picked her book Mansfield Park to determine a connection between critical reading and brain activation patterns. (source: Luminosity)
Cover of Mansfield Park (1999)
The procedure went like this: an MRI scanned the brains of 18 participants as they read MP. These weren’t ordinary students, no struggling juniors or seniors assigned Janey as an honors read; no, these were PhD candidates. The reason being the researchers wanted to make sure close reading, the reading for analysis, was properly done. Going for a doctorate would probably ensure smarter reading practices. Participants read for “fun,” that is, casually read and then they were asked to close read.
Results: critical reading increased bloodflow throughout the brain, especially to the prefrontal cortex, which is considered to be the center of thoughts and actions and our social behavior.
Implications: close reading, the method of critically studying a text, indicates a connection between shaping and shifting cognition
My Understanding: Sheesh! I’ve been doing this for years. “Hey kids, read this and let’s figure out what it means.” Oh yea, this is what Common Core State Standards is all about–we give students higher level reading material and ask them to think about what they are reading. Like I said *I’ve been doing this for years*.
Eagle Eyed Editor recently posted some thoughts on social media and it poked my brain into reflect mode. While there are many things I don’t like about the influx of social media–decline of manners (I’m here to watch the movie, aren’t you?); bullying (mean girls rule the airwaves); meaningless blurbs about mundane aspects of everybody’s life (celebrity haircuts make the banner-really?); and the instant shock news (the ceaseless exploitation of tragedy is morbid, not informing). HOwEvER—— Some people have figured out that social media platforms are amazing ways to promote happy thoughts, to interject some meaning to our day, to enlighten and amuse. Some are simply fun. Here are a couple of favorite finds: Puppet Guy at Vine Puppet Guy is a little yellow fellow with a big heart, a smallish brain, an a beguiling personality. His clips ranges from his rendition of Kermit singing to the “Rainbow Song” to being scared of virtual fish tanks to claiming Bill Cosby is his dad. These short looping clips are mesmerizing. Whenever I need a quick laugh I click hoping for a new adventure. I guess I never outgrew the Muppet Show. You’ve probably discovered Kid President on your own. My students begged me to play one of his episodes as our icebreaker. I’m hooked. This kid reminds me of Gary Coleman (remember him?). Maybe even a much younger Erkle. Not only are his messages inspirational, but his life is inspirational. Robby Novak, aka Kid President, is a TED speaker, and has interviewed President Obama, Beyoncé, and others. His winsome personality and impromptu dance moves and off-the-cuff remarks spell G-E-N-U-I-N-E.
What are your favorite upbeat sites that add a smile to your day? I’m always looking for icebreakers for my students, so keep those suggestions family friendly, if you please.
Puppet Guy is a little yellow fellow with a big heart, a smallish brain, an a beguiling personality. His clips ranges from his rendition of Kermit singing to the “Rainbow Song” to being scared of virtual fish tanks to claiming Bill Cosby is his dad. These short looping clips are mesmerizing. Whenever I need a quick laugh I click hoping for a new adventure. I guess I never outgrew the Muppet Show. You’ve probably discovered Kid President on your own. My students begged me to play one of his episodes as our icebreaker. I’m hooked. This kid reminds me of Gary Coleman (remember him?). Maybe even a much younger Erkle. Not only are his messages inspirational, but his life is inspirational. Robby Novak, aka Kid President, is a TED speaker, and has interviewed President Obama, Beyoncé, and others. His winsome personality and impromptu dance moves and off-the-cuff remarks spell G-E-N-U-I-N-E.
Pam Webb 