"Two paths diverged in a wood..."

Two weeks ago, I saw a clip on CBS Sunday Morning about two men with the same name but very different lives (see segment below). It made me think about the time I once saw a punked-out woman about my age at a UPS store, her hair blond with a pink stripe, tattoos, short shorts, and skulls and hearts on her fingerless elbow gloves, talking with the clerk about how she was joining the Peace Corps and heading to Africa where they were in desperate need of French speakers, which she just happened to be. I was jealous slightly that she could pick up and go. She walked out just before me and got into the same car I was driving. Different color, but otherwise the exact same car. Oh, and the "Rock Slut" sticker stuck to her back window. I felt like I had crossed paths with my alter ego. I used to love to go to concerts of the rowdy persuasion. Heck, I had even been in a band (though I would never claim to be the rock slut of the group). I had chosen to become a teacher and was at UPS sending back a globe when I had ordered a map of the world. She had chosen to become, well, a Peace Corps something-or-other and was going to see the world. Yet we had both chosen the same car. This is what I thought about as I heard the story of these two men who share the name Wes Moore - one a graduate of Johns Hopkins, the other serving a life sentence prison term for murder, who each happened to grow up in the same Baltimore neighborhood.

Later that evening, I was getting my things ready to bring to work the next day when I picked up the book True Notebooks: A Writer's Year at Juvenile Hall by Mark Salzman, which I had checked out from the school library weeks before but hadn't touched. I decided I would just bring it back, but as I got into bed, I cracked it open and began reading, to double check, I guess, if it would be yet another book I wouldn't get sucked in to. I couldn't put it down. It is Salzman's memoir about his experiences teaching a writing class to teenagers with life sentences for murder (mostly gang-related) in LA County's youth corrections system. I laughed and cried my way through and thought a lot about choices - the breaks we get and the ones we don't; how we handle the consequences of the choices we make; how, when and why we choose to get involved or stay out of things; the opportunities we have to make a difference that we take or pass up - and how I am grateful that I had parents who were around enough to teach me how to make good choices. How I had friends that didn't try to bring me down when I was at the vulnerable age where I could have been much more easily swayed. How I had teachers that pulled me aside when they noticed that I was acting different or my grades weren't what they usually were. Those things don't always make a difference, but often times they do, and not everyone has had the set and quantity of "guiders" that was dealt out to me. Regardless of the choices that we make though, we are all worth something - with as much worth as how much or how little time as it takes any of us to make a split-second choice and live with the consequences of it.

One quote in particular has stayed with me from that book, and somehow it connects to all of my ramblings. I have written it on the white-board in my classroom. I am delighted with how many students have asked me about it, though I have said nothing to draw attention to it:

Our world cannot be complete without you, and without hearing what you have to say. True justice cannot exist without compassion; compassion cannot exist without understanding. But no one will understand you unless you speak, and are able to speak clearly. (Sister Janet to all the students, page 155)

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The times, they are a-changing.

I was saddened today by the reality of the world we live in. My classes have just recently finished To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee's classic coming-of-age story. For the last few years, I haven't shown the Academy Award winning movie in its entirety because I've had a hard time getting the students to actually watch it. They spend more time complaining about how much they "hate old movies" and gasping, "Oh, you mean it's in black and white?" that I haven't bothered (with how often they beg to see movies in class, and how I haven't shown one all year, you'd think they'd just be excited regardless of what it was!). I could only manage to show the trial scene of Tom Robinson and keep their attention.

Well, with some of my classes, I decided I would show the whole thing because of scheduling issues elsewhere. After the initial complaining, the kids actually started to get into it. I was very pleased. As the movie starts to wrap up, there is a pivotal scene right at the end of the movie (and book) where the neighborhood "phantom" Arther "Boo" Radley, who nobody has scene in over 15 years and has a suburban full of rumors in tow, saves children Scout and Jem from the murderous attack of the villain of the story. Scout, the main character and narrator, is finally face to face with the person who has filled her young head with so many wild imaginings, only to learn that Boo is not at all the scary and twisted character she and so many others imagined, and in fact has saved her and her brother's lives. She spends a few moments alone with him, they stare quietly and with concern at Jem, and she even encourages him to "pet" her unconscious older brother on the head while he is still asleep; she can tell that that is what he wants to do.

The problem? Enter the interpretations of students growing up in our modern world. A world where leaving a child alone with a strange man is dangerous. A world where a man who follows children, as Boo Radley did, is a pedophile. A world where a strange man staring at and petting on the head a child is not to be trusted. A world where a father who leaves his kids alone with a person who is rumored to peek in windows at night and lurks in shadows is irresponsible because of the dangers and what-if's that are rampant. And in this present that exists, my students snickered, gasped, and gaped at the wholly innocent and touching scene that closes the movie.

I hope and pray that To Kill A Mockingbird, arguably one of the best known and loved of American novels, stays relevant but more so that we never get to the point where kindness and tenderness are so unrecognizable that they disappear forever.

Recent Top Pics

I never get to read as much during the school year as I would like to, but the books I have read recently are fantastic.  If you're looking for something and don't know what, you may consider giving one of these a try.

P.S. None of these are LDS fiction.

I Am the Messenger

I wish I could have every single one of my students - especially the boys - read this.  A little too mature for freshmen in this town...but I can't stop thinking about it, that's how good I think it is.  I've already gotten four other teachers/staff at this school to read it.  I can't wait to finish other's on my "Don't put off any longer" list so I can read this one again.

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Another I am spreading the word on.  I haven't seen the movie yet, but would recommend the book to EVERYONE.  A Holocaust story from the point of view of a German child who really has no idea of what is going on...I don't think I've ever read a story about the Holocaust from this point of view.  Haunting.  A quick but meaningful read.

The Book Thief

I'm still reading this one but I'm already in love with it and decided to pass on the title.  This one is also about a girl during the Holocaust who steals books, including from Nazi book burnings.  The story is narrated by Death...who better to tell the story of the Holocaust.

My Sister's Keeper

Jodi Picoult's novel's are so interesting because they all (of the three I've read) all center around a legal and moral issue.  This one is about a 13 year old who seeks medical emancipation from her parents because she is sick of being a donor for her sister with lukemia, while knowing that if she does this it could very well lead to the death of her best friend.  I kept thinking of my own sisters the whole time, which made the conflict even more heartbreaking.  I read this one almost straight through.  I actually don't think I did much those three days!  

When I Love My Job

I am really good at complaining about my job. But I have a lot of fun experiences along the way that make me keep wanting to come back for another round. And while right now I keep telling myself that I better be scoring points in heaven for working with freshmen, I generally like coming to work every day.

My recent success is with one of my all time favorite books, Ender's Game. This is the

second year I have taught this novel, and while my students enjoyed the book last year, this year it is a runaway hit. I have bought out the local bookstores copies of one of the sequels twice (Ender's Shadow), and lent out my own personal copies of the sequels too. The biggest success in this whole experience is that of all the sequels I have leant out to students, only one has been a girl. The whole reason I chose to teach Ender's Game was to find a good guy book. It has far surpasssed my expectations. I am so excited that, even if they don't read and/or like another book we read this year, they have at least read (and actually read it, not just faked it) one book and like it.

What I love about teaching literature - any book I teach - is the reactions of the students: gasps, laughs, questions asked that show deep thinking (as deep as freshmen can get). Sometimes it's even just the dead silence when we finish a chapter that is particularly profound or intense. I love reading out loud to them so we can enjoy it together. I love when a student comes to me the weekend after I assigned a book and they have read the whole thing because they couldn't put it down. I love being part of a student experiencing a good book. Some English teachers feel grounded while teaching writing. I feel grounded when teaching a book. I love literature, and the key to finding EVERY person's passion for reading is just finding the right book for the person. What's yours?

Star Struck

Very rarely does a person get to meet the author of a book she enjoys. Even more infrequently does a teacher get to meet the author of a book she teaches becuase of our inclination to teach books by dead people. I recently got to meet Orson Scott Card, the author of Ender's Game. At the end of the previous school year, I was searching for a book that would appeal to the boys in my classess. Girls will read anything, but if a boy doesn't like the book we're reading he'll just stop. I finally came to Ender's Game. A week before school started, Mr. Card was in town to speak at the Utah Shakespeare Festival and was scheduled to do a book signing later that day. I found out the day before, and was planning all of the things I was going to say to him. I was second in line, I approached the table, and...and...I couldln't think of anything to say! And after a moment of stuttering - during which time he is signing my books - words just started spewing from my mouth. I "gushed," said one of my friends who attended with me (I attended with my English teacher friends from work). It was pretty embarassing as there were many many people behind me in line, including my colleagues, but he was very gracious about it and kindly obliged to take a picture with us. Nice man and fabulous book!