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400+ Years

Tuesday 06 January 2009 | 0 Comments

More than four hundred years separate us from Shakespeare's time -- four centuries' worth of linguistic change. I was curious what might happen in the course of 24 eighth-graders' first true encounter with Shakespeare.

We began Romeo and Juliet today, and students acted out the opening quarrel scene. After class, one student came up to me.

"You know how pirates say 'argh' and such?" he began, hesitantly.

"Yes," I replied, wondering where this was leading.

"Well, when Lord Capulet was trying to get Lady Capulet to hand him the sword, was he just, like, saying something pirate-like, or was he degrading her?"

"No," I answered, smiling. "No, he wasn't degrading her. He was just being enthusiastic."

The line in question, of course, is, "What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!"

Our Zoo

Monday 05 January 2009 | 0 Comments

I was always a pack-rat growing up. I think it's genetic, or maybe not. I do know Nana saved a lot of my toys through the year, and the Girl has finally started playing with some of them. My old animal collection.

She's excited about being able to recognize animals -- sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English -- and she enjoys telling us what various animals say.

This is also a "sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English" thing, for Polish dogs say "how how" (spelled phonetically in English) whereas American dogs say "woof-woof." Pigs here say "oink oink" whereas their Polish counterparts say "kwee kwee" (again, spelled phonetically in English). When we ask her, "Co mowi swinka?" she replies "kwee kwee!"; to "What does a pig say?" she'll respond "oink oink." That differentiation is a recent development, and it's only one of many little linguistic markers she's passing. She's connected "kupic" ("buy") and stores, so every time we pass a store, she says, in her wonderful mixed-up fashion, "Tata, mamma, kupi clementine." Now she's branching out: "Mama, kupi malinki i grapes."

In short, she's really coming to the understanding that she's learning two languages. The other day, she said to K, "Mamma, bug!" K, not making out what she said, asked, "Co?" ("What"). "Pajak," she replied, specifying not only animal but genus: spider.

Working Together

Sunday 04 January 2009 | 2 Comments

The last two weeks, I've been on Christmas break -- one of the great advantages of being a teacher. Teaching a new course (English I Honors), I wasn't planning on having much time to myself as I was planning to, well, plan. Starting Monday, I'll be leading the class through Romeo and Juliet, and I've never taught that particular selection. I did Macbeth when I was student teaching, but "Double, double toil and trouble; / Fire burn, and caldron bubble." with twelfth graders is a far cry from "What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?" with gifted eighth graders.

I had high hopes for a productive time, especially during the second week, with Christmas behind us. And then L got sick: a moist, lingering cough that kept her out of day care for a week. But one thing you learn having a two year old is that she can imitate anything, including Tata working.

1/5, f/4, 18 mm, slow-sync flash off ceiling

Jack

Friday 02 January 2009 | 0 Comments

Very quickly, it became a favorite, though I'm not sure how. The name's origin was simple enough: unable to say "jacket," L turned it into a shorter "jack." The rest, though, is mystery.

Jack came to be for L what blankets and teddies are for other toddlers: her grounding. She had to have it with her, and when she was not wearing it (which was rare, if she had her way, even in summer), she was carrying it. Getting to her to agree to hang it in the closet was a Herculean task, and we simply decided that there was no reason why it should hang in the closet if it caused much turmoil in her life.

One parting was inevitable, though, and it happened soon enough. She outgrew it, and we introduced a new jack. She liked the new jack just as much as the old one, and quickly developed the same bond. Red jack was stowed away and quickly forgotten.

Until K decided to do some rearranging and repacking. And then, this morning, L discovered red jack. The original jack, the mother of all jacks.

Fast as her little increasingly nimble fingers could manage, she unzipped the plastic storage back that held jack, pulled it out, and held it close and tight, crying, "Jack!" as if she'd encountered a friend she hadn't seen since school days.

"Oh, no, sweetie," I said. "This jack is entirely too small."

The prospect of losing jack a second time -- "I've been looking everywhere for you" her babbling seemed to say -- was too much for her. L fell in the floor, distraught and screaming.

"But you have another jack," I reminded her. "Do you want to get it?"

The fussing quickly subsided and she meekly answered, "Tak."

That jack was held close for the rest of the morning.

I do this on a daily basis: in my teaching, with my interpersonal skills, in my parenting. The old seems to be so comfortable that, even when something new is working better, the old slips up and takes hold before I know it.

Perhaps L's rediscovery of the original jack suggests a goal for the year: to be more conscious about slipping into old, comfortable habits.

Protest in Florida

Thursday 01 January 2009 | 1 Comment

Muslims in America generally are considered to be integrated and not suffering the same issues as European Muslims allegedly suffer (discrimination, bigotry, etc.). You aren't supposed to see calls from American Muslims to wipe Israel off the map.

I guess "generally" "aren't supposed to" are the key terms.

They Sold Their Soul for Rock and Roll

Wednesday 31 December 2008 | 0 Comments

Sometimes, it's absolutely shocking how literally people take things. For example, the makers of They Sold Their Soul for Rock and Roll take the legend of Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil at the crossroads literally. They quote stories from Johnson's contemporaries who say that he couldn't play worth a flip, disappeared for some time, then returned able to play quite well. How else can you explain that except by selling one's soul for talent. Indeed, something as boring as practice couldn't possibly have anything to do with it.

As bad as that is, the section on U2 is even worse. U2, of course, almost broke up after their debut album because they (excluding Adam Clayton, the bass player) didn't know if being in a rock band was something a Christian could do in good conscience.

Unfortunately for U2, they're also the band that sings honestly in "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For",

I have held the hand of the devil.
It was warm in the night.
I was cold as a stone.

Clearly, anyone who takes comfort from the devil can't be anything but a closeted Satan worshiper. Don't give me that bull about it being a metaphor for all things evil; don't tell me Bono could be talking about seeking comfort in the fleshly things that are normally associated with evil -- drugs, promiscuity, etc. No -- this is a clear cut case of devil worship.

What's worse, later in the song Bono even admits that though he has found comfort in Christ, he still hasn't found what he's looking for. Again, don't give me that crap about metaphors and doubts: when you have Jesus, you don't have doubts! There is no room for Jesus and doubt!

There's more: U2 sang "Helter Skelter" and so did Charles Manson! Need I say more? And then there's the fact that they occasionally sang the chorus regularly performed a cover of the Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil". Pure Satan there, ladies and gentlemen.

The clincher, of course, is when Bono emerges as Mephisto. That's as bad as INXS singing "Every single one of us is the devil inside"! Some will try to say that it's just a metaphor for a quite Christian idea: original sin. But if they really meant original sin, these singers would say "original sin" and not leave vulnerable babes in Christ guessing at these metaphors.

Thank God there are no metaphors in the Bible!

Photo Session

Wednesday 31 December 2008 | 0 Comments

She’s Got a Bike

Tuesday 30 December 2008 | 2 Comments

She can ride it if she likes. It's got a basket, a bell that rings, and things to make it look good. (Who can name the source?)

Yet she was vastly more interested in putting things in said basket (though I suppose it's techically not a basket...).

Don’t you remember?

Friday 26 December 2008 | 0 Comments

Some friends were over for Christmas dinner; the conversation turned to Santa. The husband of the family -- I'll call him Jim -- asked whether or not we were going to tell our daughter the truth about Santa at an early age. Jim's contention was it that the belief in Santa is good for the imagination and that it does no harm.

I'm not sure where I stand. Certainly we create alternative little universes for our children in the spirit of entertainment, and I'm not so sure telling our daughter that Santa has brought this or that present is all that different.

Jim went on to mention the look of astonishment on Christmas morning when the presents are suddenly under the tree and the children run in, excited: "Santa came!"

"Don't you remember how that felt?" he asked.

"No," I replied, wondering how much detail I should provide. What would have have said if I continued, "I was about 23 the first time I celebrated Christmas"? With my parents right there, I didn't want to get into the "I was raised in a cult" conversation as that seems somewhat damning to them. I just left it at "No" and hoped the conversation would go away.

It used to be a common thing: be evasive and hope the other party lost interest. I middle school, high school, even college to some extent, I fell into that pattern.

I hadn't done that in close to twenty years, though.

It didn't feel good, but it made me glad anew to be out from under that.

Christmas 2008

Thursday 25 December 2008 | 2 Comments

Busy and calm -- a typical Christmas for us, I suppose. Days of preparation and cleaning, and finally, the table is set, the barszcz is ready, and the guests are all making themselves comfortable.

Barszcz, mushroom soup, cabbage and mushroom pierogis -- the courses tumble onto the table, one after the other, and I'm thinking the same thing I always do: so much time spent preparing this food, and yet it's just disappearing. No matter how slowly we serve, it never seems to be slow enough truly to savor the food and the conversation. It's like eating one's favorite cookies as a kid, with the conflicting urges: devour them yet save them.

After dinner, we head to the living room for gifts and a Belgian ale sampling. First up, the king of Belgian ales: Chimay.

Gifts for everyone, but K and I are waiting for a couple.

L, having had a birthday less than weeks ago, has few surprises in an effort to keep from "spoiling" her. The truth is, she already has so many toys that we can hide many and she doesn't notice. But she was thrilled with her DVD: Horton Hears a Who. We've been reading it before bed for weeks now, and she adores the story. Any time the Wickersham brothers appear, she starts yelling, "No! Not nice!" She might attack the TV when we show her the film.

Nana and Papa get our new obsession: hardcover photo books from Blurb. One was a book of pictures of the Girl throughout the last year; the second was a photo book about Nana and Papa's trip to Central Europe for our 2004 wedding.

Christmas Day begins with some swinging and time with our guests' dogs, who have been relaxing in the basement. Throughout the week, whenever we would ask L who's coming, she would squeal, "Doggies!" Four friendly dogs and she was absolutely in heaven.

Christmas Day brought new guests and new adventures. L had a couple of playmates, one of whom having L's temperament and energy level. There was lots of climbing, chasing, and screams of laughter. It gave us a chance to see what it would be like to have more children. Someday. Right now, L is enough to keep four adults busy.