Teacher Appreciation Day is this Friday.
And Grades are due this weekend.
I anticipate a good haul.
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Drama?
I have searched far and wide for more online lessons...and recalled Rowan Atkinson's survey of Shakespearean Drama...
As a mild warning...there's a reason actors were often associated with the dregs of society...mostly it's clean, but if you have zero tolerance for inappropriate humor, spare yourself this lesson. You get a pass.
Otherwise...school is back in session:
As a mild warning...there's a reason actors were often associated with the dregs of society...mostly it's clean, but if you have zero tolerance for inappropriate humor, spare yourself this lesson. You get a pass.
Otherwise...school is back in session:
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Patience of Christmas
As a teacher, I am daily confronted with the need for and the general lack of patience.
I do not limit this to my students, but they do demonstrate this problem quite vividly; they are young and they are growing...and growth can be difficult at the best of times, and all the more in a society that tell us constantly that we shouldn't be content with what we are. They wrestle with learning to persevere through the hard times, to strive when there are easier ways to accomplish the same "goal" of graduating from school and going off into the world...they struggle with learning to trust me and be patient, even when they don't understand why Mr. Leigh is so excited about Book 12 of the Iliad.
They are attempting to navigate the difficult waters of growing up without falling victim to the traps of a culture obsessed with being 18 years old. For them, the danger lies in growing up too fast. One of the aspects of my school that I appreciate is that the students are encouraged to preserve their innocence as they grow (hopefully) wiser.
It is my task, in part, to prepare them and to educate them regarding the need to prepare themselves before venturing out to the waiting world. To teach them the virtue of patience.
Patience is one of those virtues that can only be learned the hard way: through the practice of waiting.
I was reflecting on this the other day, and while reading the Doctor's thoughts on the importance of history, it occurred to me that the promise of Christmas is a lesson in the value of patience.
The season is predicated, in part, on waiting. It's why children have to learn to wait to open their presents until Christmas Day. It's why Advent comes before the joyous Christmas morning. It's why we waited through the years for the time to be ripe for the coming of the Christ. And it is, in part, why we wait now for Him to come again. Waiting allows us to learn to be patient.
Why is patience so important?
Through patience we learn to be content in God's timing. By patience, we access the peace of God in every circumstance. Patience allows us to endure the slow grind which so frequently typifies sanctification. Our God, the actualizer, chooses to allow us to wait for His perfect time, instead of pushing us forward by the sheer force of His awesome will.
Learning patience is a gift. It can be grueling, it may drive us to the ends of ourselves, but along the way we have the opportunity to see God's plan for us unfold.
Adam and Eve were the first to hear the promise. They died with only the hope that salvation would someday come from one of their own children.
Abraham endured time and again, only seeing his hope begin to be realized at the end of his long life.
Generations of Israel suffered in slavery, endured the wilderness, won and lost themselves a homeland...until, while under the brutal subjugation of Rome, Christmas dawned on them and the world.
Look for the dawn to follow the darkest moments of the night. Christmas comes in the midst of winter; life promised in the middle of the barren cold.
I do not limit this to my students, but they do demonstrate this problem quite vividly; they are young and they are growing...and growth can be difficult at the best of times, and all the more in a society that tell us constantly that we shouldn't be content with what we are. They wrestle with learning to persevere through the hard times, to strive when there are easier ways to accomplish the same "goal" of graduating from school and going off into the world...they struggle with learning to trust me and be patient, even when they don't understand why Mr. Leigh is so excited about Book 12 of the Iliad.
They are attempting to navigate the difficult waters of growing up without falling victim to the traps of a culture obsessed with being 18 years old. For them, the danger lies in growing up too fast. One of the aspects of my school that I appreciate is that the students are encouraged to preserve their innocence as they grow (hopefully) wiser.
It is my task, in part, to prepare them and to educate them regarding the need to prepare themselves before venturing out to the waiting world. To teach them the virtue of patience.
Patience is one of those virtues that can only be learned the hard way: through the practice of waiting.
I was reflecting on this the other day, and while reading the Doctor's thoughts on the importance of history, it occurred to me that the promise of Christmas is a lesson in the value of patience.
The season is predicated, in part, on waiting. It's why children have to learn to wait to open their presents until Christmas Day. It's why Advent comes before the joyous Christmas morning. It's why we waited through the years for the time to be ripe for the coming of the Christ. And it is, in part, why we wait now for Him to come again. Waiting allows us to learn to be patient.
Why is patience so important?
Through patience we learn to be content in God's timing. By patience, we access the peace of God in every circumstance. Patience allows us to endure the slow grind which so frequently typifies sanctification. Our God, the actualizer, chooses to allow us to wait for His perfect time, instead of pushing us forward by the sheer force of His awesome will.
Learning patience is a gift. It can be grueling, it may drive us to the ends of ourselves, but along the way we have the opportunity to see God's plan for us unfold.
Adam and Eve were the first to hear the promise. They died with only the hope that salvation would someday come from one of their own children.
Abraham endured time and again, only seeing his hope begin to be realized at the end of his long life.
Generations of Israel suffered in slavery, endured the wilderness, won and lost themselves a homeland...until, while under the brutal subjugation of Rome, Christmas dawned on them and the world.
Look for the dawn to follow the darkest moments of the night. Christmas comes in the midst of winter; life promised in the middle of the barren cold.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
A War Like No Other
I am reading Victor Davis Hanson's "A War Like No Other" as I prep for teaching my 8th graders about the Peleponnesian War, and am very much enjoying his narrative. If you're looking for a book to help you relate extricate the morals of history and aid you in connecting with the ghosts of the past, I would certainly recommend it.
I am still in the beginning, but it is already an absorbing read. His explanation of Athens connection to modern America is enlightening, and examines some realities that I have often reflected on, without a proper frame of reference to guide me, not least of which is the question of why America is opposed by so many in the world.
I have long had my suspicions; growing up in a foreign country (especially one with a long history of colonization, both with and without the US) that it generally centers around envy: many who are not us wish they could be us, and since they cannot, hate us for being us.
Although this is something even VDH recognizes, also in play are the factors of the liberality of our society, and the unpredictable nature of a Free Government. We are an unknown quantity, and that is distressing to a world of known sums. Since WWII, America has filled the void of our potential with specific and material examples of our might and our ability to influence the world as we see fit.
For this, we are loathed. Which is odd, given how much good we do in the world.
And, odder still, those who stand as stark opponents to us are lauded. Chavez, Castro, Che (posthumously), Ahmadinejad...even Putin. They are celebrated as free thinkers and champions of a world that will not be ground under an American heel.
It is not because most of the world actually wants these individuals to be their leaders; if this were true, America would cease to be the center of so much of the world's power. But in the absence of another superpower (and sometimes even despite of another superpower...the Soviets were not unpopular during the Cold War in many elite circles, and are frequently spoken of with a certain amount of pseudo-admiration today) allows critics to fantasize that the freedoms and excesses of America are the cause of the world's ills.
I think it is the cost of being free. Freedom is alarming, and difficult to control. Citizens of a free society see tomorrows with potentials other citizens cannot begin to comprehend. This very fact creates an environment that puts others at odds with freedom.
Not unlike being a parent or a teacher or anyone responsible for growing children. The more they grow...the more they need to have responsibility for their own choices and lives, if they are to grow into fully functioning adults. Letting them experiment and learn how to make the right choices can be worrisome, to say the least...but without it, growth never happens.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
To Live, not Survive
Pixar has a history of making entertaining movies that hit home on a variety of levels. My son loves to watch them, and so do I. As if it wasn't enough that they were pleasant and funny, they also address issues that we as a culture are wrestling with, if not in the mainstream, at least sub-conciously.
Wall-E was one such movie. Sure, there's the environmental issues, and the moral about laziness, and what not; all good things to think about. There are even "Cave" moments, as humans who had long ago lost sight of real things are awakened to gaze once again in wonder at the stars.
But what makes me well up inside everytime is actually a line that comes from the human captain as he struggles against he rogue auto-pilot. The "Auto" is telling him that the ship cannot return to Earth, due to secret directives from the last President of Earth, and his clinching argument is that because of this plan, "Mankind will survive," to which the human captain replies, "I don't want to just survive; I want to live!"
It gets me everytime.
I am in the midst of struggling to impart the legacy of the West to my students, and they frequently wonder if all the extra work they are called upon to do for the sake of their educations is really worth it. Their peers elsewhere are freer after school than they are; they have been working to learn how to write in ways that no students their age in America write, to master a language that hasn't been commonly spoken in in over a 1000 years, and to engage in the art of logic as 8th graders. On an average day, I will repeatedly hear the question, "But, why...?"
And though my answer will vary in type, it remains the same in its message; because the things worth having come at a cost, and the prize that you seek is actually valuable, and thus we should expect to have to sacrifice in order to gain it. I tell them that comfort and ease are not, in and of themselves, the highest goods we can attain; that as with atheletes in training, pain is just a natural part of the road that we must walk if we would grow and be more than what we naturally are.
If we would do more than merely survive, we must endure pain, fear, possibly even death. Survival as a goal is hardly worth fighting for. Life is more than comfort or even actually being physically alive. Pixar, in a Chestertonian spirit, shows us that the pursuit of life requires a willingness to lose one's life, even as one fights to keep it.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Spirits of Yester-year
When I was a senior in high school I had a fun year. Having spent the majority of my junior year trying to survive Algebra II & Physics (my good friend Jeremy Williams told me when it was time to sign up for classes that, between Physics and Chemistry, Physics was the easier one, and the one that required less math...thanks for that Jer...to this day, I cannot look at a bridge without feeling that sinking feeling that comes before you flunk a test...I would routinely get home after wrestling practice at about 4:30, drink some water and then get started on my math & science homework...which I would finish at right about 9:00; I would do all my English/History homework at school in the half hour before classes got started); with this in mind, I was more than happy to ignore the advice of my high school academic counsellor and avoid just about every real class.
This was my senior year schedule, roughly adapted for the semester change, and as best as I can remember it in order:
Creative Writing
Wood Shop/Drama
Weight-Lifting (Originally it was going to be AP Psych...but, again, that involved work...and I was NOT interested...and I was a wrestler, after all)
Choir
AP English (my one *real* class...I was in a room with the smarties--including my wife and my best friend, BJ Cadd--and I was suffering woefully from senior-itus...Mrs. Cranston would usually evaluate my efforts with a look of mingled pity and impatience...I think she was happily surprised to hear that I learned to love learning in college...this class did actually change my life though, as it was the first time I ever read a C.S. Lewis work that wasn't Narnia...about a year-and-a-half later a discussion with Emily Moothart about the Great Divorce would be one of the significant stepping stones for getting me into the Torrey Honors Institute)
Bible
Photo/Pottery
It was the only year in high school that I made the good grade lists. I know what you're thinking...how on earth did I get into college? I wonder that often myself...to say nothing of how did I actually get into Torrey. I was lazy, and wasted a lot of opportunities...I don't really have regrets (it was a great year), but my academic life has suffered. There are worse things, and fortunately, God is gracious.
During my semester working on Black & White photos (which is a real art, and I loved it...it's a dream of mine to re-learn how to do the whole thing, and make a dark room of my own...maybe someday) we would take pictures of friends, trees, cars, water in the parking lot, and through the miracle of the absence of color, create instant nostalgic mementos for our youth.
It is something few people can understand; unless you're a missionary kid, a military brat, or something very similar, I cannot explain what is like to grow up without a home. I am not complaining, either; it is just that this fact altered the way we all interacted with everything, in ways that I am certain we did not realize at the time. We had to carve out pieces of permanence for ourselves, so we could explain where we came from. Figuring out where we were going to often proved a challenge. College was, for me, just the next step...I had zero expectations and just about no specific ambitions for it...I just knew my time as a kid in the Philippines was over and I had to go out alone and make my life into something (in all fairness, I should add that I chose to go alone...I chose an expensive University on the opposite side of the country from my parents, at least in part initially because of a girl..again, wisdom was clearly not my gift).
While we would work in the dark red glow of the dark room, and watch our pictures materialize in the developer fluid, we would listen to music. Music is one of those special gifts, that allows us to connect events and feelings with sounds, so that some experiences never entirely fade away from the memory. When I was in there, we would listen to 1 of 4 - 5 different tapes (back when things were still on tapes...at least, in the P.I.). One of my favorites was a song already dripping with nostalgia all on its own; added to that environment, it became an anthem for the cleaving that was taking place that last year at Faith Academy. Although my state-side counter-parts knew this song as "that annoying song over-played on the radio" or a song off of a soundtrack, I knew it only as "The Sunscreen Song," on my friend's tape.
It's been 8 years since I had access to this song, but every now and then I'd hear a snippet somewhere, or look at one of my black and white pictures of the flowers that grew on our hill, or the tree that we'd climb during lunch time, or the puddles left after one of my last tropical storms, and I would remember my Fall semester senior year in high school. I stumbled across an i-Tunes gift card yesterday from two years ago, and for the first time I have access to DSL...so, once again, I have access to instant nostalgia in song form.
Some of the maxims remind me of painful mistakes, or some of the happiest moments I can remember (I am one of those rare few that actually enjoyed my high school experience...I attribute this to my parents, my teachers, my friends, my circumstances...but above all, my God, who really was merciful; I made it through with my innocence mostly intact, something that I have since learned not to take for granted). Mostly, they make me reflect on how I have changed since the last time I heard them, and whether or not I still consider them to be wisdom or "a form of nostalgia, dispensing it (advice) is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than its worth."
Maybe it's because it's been eight years...maybe it is because we have just moved and I feel a little alone and am starting over once again...maybe it is because I am now a dad, a husband, and my best friend from high school is going to be married this Spring and that makes me feel a little old...maybe it's because Facebook keeps showing me pictures of people I knew when I was my student's age or younger...but I have been very nostalgic of late. I want to connect with my past, and if possible to make it a part of my present. I hope I have abandoned the foolish lie I accepted when I was in high school, that those were the best times of my life, and that being young was the best part of living, period. Youth is painful, and it is good that it transitions into maturity. But there are sweet things about youth, and the bonds and memories of our firsts are worth treasuring, so long as we don't try to revive a life that nature and time has resigned to the past.
This is why we strive to be winsome, curious souls that grow in the Lord, but retain our youthful excitement about the potential to grow and learn and explore the undiscovered countries of heaven.
This was my senior year schedule, roughly adapted for the semester change, and as best as I can remember it in order:
Creative Writing
Wood Shop/Drama
Weight-Lifting (Originally it was going to be AP Psych...but, again, that involved work...and I was NOT interested...and I was a wrestler, after all)
Choir
AP English (my one *real* class...I was in a room with the smarties--including my wife and my best friend, BJ Cadd--and I was suffering woefully from senior-itus...Mrs. Cranston would usually evaluate my efforts with a look of mingled pity and impatience...I think she was happily surprised to hear that I learned to love learning in college...this class did actually change my life though, as it was the first time I ever read a C.S. Lewis work that wasn't Narnia...about a year-and-a-half later a discussion with Emily Moothart about the Great Divorce would be one of the significant stepping stones for getting me into the Torrey Honors Institute)
Bible
Photo/Pottery
It was the only year in high school that I made the good grade lists. I know what you're thinking...how on earth did I get into college? I wonder that often myself...to say nothing of how did I actually get into Torrey. I was lazy, and wasted a lot of opportunities...I don't really have regrets (it was a great year), but my academic life has suffered. There are worse things, and fortunately, God is gracious.
During my semester working on Black & White photos (which is a real art, and I loved it...it's a dream of mine to re-learn how to do the whole thing, and make a dark room of my own...maybe someday) we would take pictures of friends, trees, cars, water in the parking lot, and through the miracle of the absence of color, create instant nostalgic mementos for our youth.
It is something few people can understand; unless you're a missionary kid, a military brat, or something very similar, I cannot explain what is like to grow up without a home. I am not complaining, either; it is just that this fact altered the way we all interacted with everything, in ways that I am certain we did not realize at the time. We had to carve out pieces of permanence for ourselves, so we could explain where we came from. Figuring out where we were going to often proved a challenge. College was, for me, just the next step...I had zero expectations and just about no specific ambitions for it...I just knew my time as a kid in the Philippines was over and I had to go out alone and make my life into something (in all fairness, I should add that I chose to go alone...I chose an expensive University on the opposite side of the country from my parents, at least in part initially because of a girl..again, wisdom was clearly not my gift).
While we would work in the dark red glow of the dark room, and watch our pictures materialize in the developer fluid, we would listen to music. Music is one of those special gifts, that allows us to connect events and feelings with sounds, so that some experiences never entirely fade away from the memory. When I was in there, we would listen to 1 of 4 - 5 different tapes (back when things were still on tapes...at least, in the P.I.). One of my favorites was a song already dripping with nostalgia all on its own; added to that environment, it became an anthem for the cleaving that was taking place that last year at Faith Academy. Although my state-side counter-parts knew this song as "that annoying song over-played on the radio" or a song off of a soundtrack, I knew it only as "The Sunscreen Song," on my friend's tape.
It's been 8 years since I had access to this song, but every now and then I'd hear a snippet somewhere, or look at one of my black and white pictures of the flowers that grew on our hill, or the tree that we'd climb during lunch time, or the puddles left after one of my last tropical storms, and I would remember my Fall semester senior year in high school. I stumbled across an i-Tunes gift card yesterday from two years ago, and for the first time I have access to DSL...so, once again, I have access to instant nostalgia in song form.
Some of the maxims remind me of painful mistakes, or some of the happiest moments I can remember (I am one of those rare few that actually enjoyed my high school experience...I attribute this to my parents, my teachers, my friends, my circumstances...but above all, my God, who really was merciful; I made it through with my innocence mostly intact, something that I have since learned not to take for granted). Mostly, they make me reflect on how I have changed since the last time I heard them, and whether or not I still consider them to be wisdom or "a form of nostalgia, dispensing it (advice) is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than its worth."
Maybe it's because it's been eight years...maybe it is because we have just moved and I feel a little alone and am starting over once again...maybe it is because I am now a dad, a husband, and my best friend from high school is going to be married this Spring and that makes me feel a little old...maybe it's because Facebook keeps showing me pictures of people I knew when I was my student's age or younger...but I have been very nostalgic of late. I want to connect with my past, and if possible to make it a part of my present. I hope I have abandoned the foolish lie I accepted when I was in high school, that those were the best times of my life, and that being young was the best part of living, period. Youth is painful, and it is good that it transitions into maturity. But there are sweet things about youth, and the bonds and memories of our firsts are worth treasuring, so long as we don't try to revive a life that nature and time has resigned to the past.
This is why we strive to be winsome, curious souls that grow in the Lord, but retain our youthful excitement about the potential to grow and learn and explore the undiscovered countries of heaven.
Friday, November 14, 2008
These are not...my...pants
It would happen on a Friday.
Out on the dodgeball field, revealing my mad dodgeballing skills...I went to reach for a ball...bent down...and suddenly felt a breath of fresh air...in the seat of my pants.
I split my pants.
I SPLIT MY STUPID, STINKING, *@&&!#@#@ PANTS.
Fortunately, not badly. Right up the seam...and not too noticably. I was due to teach a class in two minutes...so I managed to back off the field without attracting any attention, and call over another teacher to get some help.
The resolution to this problem wasn't all that exciting. What I don't understand, what puzzles me beyond reason, is why this pair of pants has always been so ridiculously tight. Not because I am in denial about a flux in my own weight...I know I have fluxed. No, the problem is that this pair of pants was exactly the same as three other pairs of pants that I own, excepting the color. The same brand, the same cut, the same size...and all a different fit.
Why, oh world of affordable fashion, why are your pants vairable sizes when they claim to be uniform?!?!?!? WHY?!?!?!?
I have resolved to procure some pants of real quality in the near future...I like to set attainable goals. This week...get new pants.
Out on the dodgeball field, revealing my mad dodgeballing skills...I went to reach for a ball...bent down...and suddenly felt a breath of fresh air...in the seat of my pants.
I split my pants.
I SPLIT MY STUPID, STINKING, *@&&!#@#@ PANTS.
Fortunately, not badly. Right up the seam...and not too noticably. I was due to teach a class in two minutes...so I managed to back off the field without attracting any attention, and call over another teacher to get some help.
The resolution to this problem wasn't all that exciting. What I don't understand, what puzzles me beyond reason, is why this pair of pants has always been so ridiculously tight. Not because I am in denial about a flux in my own weight...I know I have fluxed. No, the problem is that this pair of pants was exactly the same as three other pairs of pants that I own, excepting the color. The same brand, the same cut, the same size...and all a different fit.
Why, oh world of affordable fashion, why are your pants vairable sizes when they claim to be uniform?!?!?!? WHY?!?!?!?
I have resolved to procure some pants of real quality in the near future...I like to set attainable goals. This week...get new pants.
Friday, November 07, 2008
The Storyteller: Greek Myths
When I was 9 or 10, there was a show on PBS that told Faerie Tales in a way that nobody else told a story. They were amazing...so much so that, though I knew absolutely nothing about who produced them or what they were called, I have been hoping to stumble across them once again as an adult. The past few weeks, whenever I would visit our local grocer, I would notice a DVD next to the check-out stand called "The Storyteller," by Jim Henson. I looked at it a couple of times, but wasn't sure if it was worth it (probably a bad call...most things by Jim Henson are worth seeing at least once). Finally I broke down and just tossed it into the basket; a true impluse buy. The stores are quite clever with their placement of movies...I have grown out of the candy impulse (for the most part) but movies at $9.99 are very tempting...
And in this case, totally worth it. I soon discovered that this was what I have been passively searching for, the complete collection of fables and stories that impacted me as a child so dramatically. After a quick review of the first disc, I soon realized that I had not only stumbled on a treasure trove for my quickly growing son, but also a boon for my history (and quite possibly literature) classes. What better way of helping kids in the 21st Century connect with the myths that painted the imaginations of generations through the centuries then to allow them to hear them as stories? That Jim Henson...what a man!
Needless to say, we've been watching The Storyteller: Greek Myths in my History class this past week. The assignment has been to glean two (and from my perspective, picking only two is a chore...there are TONS of gems thrown out through the telling of the story) morals from each of the 4 myths, and speculate on how those myths would have shaped the culture in which they were told; Daedalus & Icarus, Orpheus & Eurydice, Perseus & the Gorgon, and Theseus & the Minotaur. The stories are not editted for modern sensibilities...they end sadly, and often justice is at the very least in question, if not seemingly absent altogether.
My favorite is a toss up between the moral of Daedalus and Icarus and a question from the tale of Theseus. On the one hand, you have to wrestle with the lesson of the value of moderation, and with Theseus I think you have to ask yourself...what must one become to be the champion that defeats the Minotaur? Theseus is a bad man...and a hero. His glory seems to cost him any virtue he had. Obviously the lessons are closely related...but the discussion comes from different directions.
Even more fun is the fact that in the process of discussing the Greeks on these issues, Milton keeps coming up. Is it better to be a king in Hell than a slave in heaven? Is glory worth more than a mediocre life on earth? If glory is our immortality, what then? Perhaps that is why Christ makes the difference between Christianity and everything else so clear: if you would keep your life, you must be willing to give it up. Clinging to life is the surest way to lose what you hold dear...through this paradox, Christianity resolves the dilemmas that plagued the Greeks. It's a good time to be a teacher.
More on This Later...
There are many reasons I support our veterans, and I will be happy and proud to show my appreciation for their service and sacrifice over the next few days...but on a light-hearted note, allow me to say that I am thankful to our Vet's because they afford us a three day weekend...just about exactly when I needed one.
Thank you, men and women of the armed services...in so many ways you sacrifice so that others do not need to...and for one lame but very sincere teacher, this three day weekend is just another instance of your provision for our country!
Thank you, men and women of the armed services...in so many ways you sacrifice so that others do not need to...and for one lame but very sincere teacher, this three day weekend is just another instance of your provision for our country!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Ares & Athena
"While there they sit at their royal ease, exulting,
the goddess of love and Apollo lord of the silver bow:
they loosed this manic Ares - he has no sense of justice,
Father Zeus ... I wonder if you would fume at me
if I hurled a stunning blow at the god of war
and drove him from the
fighting?"
Zeus the Father,
who marshals ranks of storm clouds gave commands,
"Leap to it then. Launch Athena against him --
the queen of plunder, she's the one - his match,
a marvel at bringing Ares down in pain."
The Iliad, Book 5, Ln 871 - 881
We were reading Diomedes' fight with the gods in class the other day, and as we read this section I couldn't help but reflect on Aeschylus' lessons from The Orestia, as they relate to Homer in this passage (the 8th graders with Zach have their discussions in my classroom while I am enjoying free-periods...I get to listen in, and so I am thoroughly Greek-minded by the time the day is over).
Hera tells Zeus plainly...the god of war does not concern himself with justice as he cuts a path of destruction through the battle lines. Though this doesn't always seem to bother the other gods, at least in this instance when the cause of the Argives is being undone by Ares they come to condemn the god himself, and Zeus tells us something of deadly importance; Wisdom is the best tool for banishing War from the battlefields.
So Athena goes and leads Diomedes to another legendary victory against a god himself. Wisdom leads man against the god of War, and War flees.
This isn't the only time Athena steps in to stop the cycle of violence. At the end of The Odyssey, she is the one that saves both Odysseus and his enemies from continued destruction. In The Orestia, we see the never-ending cycle of broken only when Athena intervenes to satisfy both justice and mercy.
Divine Wisdom, the only salvation from the never-ending cycle of violence and War. Homer's keen insight on this subject validates, yet again, his place in history and culture.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I am actually NOT trying to get into trouble...
Yesterday I made...well, a mistake. It might be understandable...and thus far, nothing has come of it. Still...it comes at the beginning of a less than perfect week...I just want everything to run smoothly from now on...and yesterday didn't help...
See, I teach one of the drama classes at our school; the class for 7th & 8th graders, Monday and Wednesday. Its a lot of fun, and a little challenging; middle-schoolers are not generally prone to drama in the formal sense...its a bit like channeling a river, getting them to use their expressive energies productively.
We've done a lot of work on basic emotional expression, as well as developing their level of comfort in front of their peers, doing silly or awkward things.
Finally we've come to the time when we can begin using lines. I have been looking for sources, but haven't had a whole lot of luck. Finally one of the other teachers lent me a book, and I started picking some scenes. I picked a scene for the ladies of the class from Little Women...for the boys, of whom there are several, I had to try and find a large scene with something interesting.
I found a scene from a play called "Dead End" set sometime in 19th century, on the streets New York. 5 street kids...one rich kid...and a "Jew kid". The language was stylized to make them sound like they were from New York, and some of the sayings are a litte rough. There are issues of class prejudices, racial prejudices...but I decided we could use that to discuss some of what theater allows us to explore.
There were two or three "bad words" such as "ass" or "hell"...I figured it was nothing they hadn't encountered at some point, and we would just change the words and move on.
Somehow...I missed the real gems. I won't repeat the worst of them here... but...at one point one of the charaters teased the "rich kid" for being a sissy...and suggested that he had the appetite and eating habits of an infant...only...not quite like that...
Then there were the derisive racial slurs when the "Jew kid" entered the scene...again, in my cursory reading of the scene, somehow I missed them.
The scene ends with the 5 street kids throwing the "Jew kid" to the ground, holding him down, spreading his legs and preparing to "cockalize" him. Fortunately, none of my kids could figure out what that meant...
Sigh.
As the kids left the class room, on their way to get into their cars with their parents and go home, I heard them muttering some of the delightful new words they had picked up from my class...the end of a not so great Monday.
See, I teach one of the drama classes at our school; the class for 7th & 8th graders, Monday and Wednesday. Its a lot of fun, and a little challenging; middle-schoolers are not generally prone to drama in the formal sense...its a bit like channeling a river, getting them to use their expressive energies productively.
We've done a lot of work on basic emotional expression, as well as developing their level of comfort in front of their peers, doing silly or awkward things.
Finally we've come to the time when we can begin using lines. I have been looking for sources, but haven't had a whole lot of luck. Finally one of the other teachers lent me a book, and I started picking some scenes. I picked a scene for the ladies of the class from Little Women...for the boys, of whom there are several, I had to try and find a large scene with something interesting.
I found a scene from a play called "Dead End" set sometime in 19th century, on the streets New York. 5 street kids...one rich kid...and a "Jew kid". The language was stylized to make them sound like they were from New York, and some of the sayings are a litte rough. There are issues of class prejudices, racial prejudices...but I decided we could use that to discuss some of what theater allows us to explore.
There were two or three "bad words" such as "ass" or "hell"...I figured it was nothing they hadn't encountered at some point, and we would just change the words and move on.
Somehow...I missed the real gems. I won't repeat the worst of them here... but...at one point one of the charaters teased the "rich kid" for being a sissy...and suggested that he had the appetite and eating habits of an infant...only...not quite like that...
Then there were the derisive racial slurs when the "Jew kid" entered the scene...again, in my cursory reading of the scene, somehow I missed them.
The scene ends with the 5 street kids throwing the "Jew kid" to the ground, holding him down, spreading his legs and preparing to "cockalize" him. Fortunately, none of my kids could figure out what that meant...
Sigh.
As the kids left the class room, on their way to get into their cars with their parents and go home, I heard them muttering some of the delightful new words they had picked up from my class...the end of a not so great Monday.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Ramblin' On
Get home from the first day of the last week of 1st Quarter...and its time to ramble on...
Monday, October 06, 2008
It's the truth...it's just not something we publish
Our school recently took part in a community effort to get essays from students published in the local paper. The question they were writing a response to was, "Where in the world would you like to go, and why?" The answers from my 7th grade class were, predicatably, interesting and it was a joy reading their essays with not so much a critical eye, but more as a guide to the inner workings of their young minds. Some were funny. Some were serious. Some were offensive. Some were disturbing. It was a good slice of 7th grade pie.
One that resonated with me was unfortunately ineligible for sending to the paper. The student, bright and curious, had said that they wanted to visit Germany. The reason they gave was the problem though as I say, it was the paper I felt the most affinity for. The student wanted to visit Germany to see Hitler's house because they wanted to see where the great evil came from, and then they said that they wanted to go see what that evil had done, to reflect on what that evil means and how to fight against it.
Fantastic.
Forget for a moment the picture of having your Christian school's name next to an essay talking about visiting Hitler's house. I love the fact that the student wants to visit history...to be able to see the places that history happened in order to better understand that history.
Of course...once you recall the fact that this is a project for the paper...well, their essay gets good marks, though it will remain safely in my box...and only generically described here.
One that resonated with me was unfortunately ineligible for sending to the paper. The student, bright and curious, had said that they wanted to visit Germany. The reason they gave was the problem though as I say, it was the paper I felt the most affinity for. The student wanted to visit Germany to see Hitler's house because they wanted to see where the great evil came from, and then they said that they wanted to go see what that evil had done, to reflect on what that evil means and how to fight against it.
Fantastic.
Forget for a moment the picture of having your Christian school's name next to an essay talking about visiting Hitler's house. I love the fact that the student wants to visit history...to be able to see the places that history happened in order to better understand that history.
Of course...once you recall the fact that this is a project for the paper...well, their essay gets good marks, though it will remain safely in my box...and only generically described here.
Its Monday Morning
And I love my job.
Sure, I'm tired. I got roughly 4 hours of sleep last night. My house is in mild disarray from the weekend, to say nothing of the perpetual disarray from moving, etc. I am still sick with the phlegm that clings to my lungs despite my best efforts to hack it out. I have a slight headache from coughing so much. The body needs more care; a fact that I am trying to address in my "spare time".
Yes, I have a lot of work to do. I am slightly behind on grading. There are at least half-a-dozen things I was supposed to do before I got here this morning, and they remain undone. Hopefully this evening.
None of this matters...today I get to try and teach my students to love words. Today I get to talk to them about the magic of sitting under the stars and waiting for God to speak to them. Today I get to guide them as they meet Helen and Paris. Today I get to push them to ask questions about God's dealing with Saul...could Saul have been saved? Why doesn't David kill Saul? Why doesn't the Lord end Saul? What matters most to Saul?
It's a good day...even if it is a Monday.
Sure, I'm tired. I got roughly 4 hours of sleep last night. My house is in mild disarray from the weekend, to say nothing of the perpetual disarray from moving, etc. I am still sick with the phlegm that clings to my lungs despite my best efforts to hack it out. I have a slight headache from coughing so much. The body needs more care; a fact that I am trying to address in my "spare time".
Yes, I have a lot of work to do. I am slightly behind on grading. There are at least half-a-dozen things I was supposed to do before I got here this morning, and they remain undone. Hopefully this evening.
None of this matters...today I get to try and teach my students to love words. Today I get to talk to them about the magic of sitting under the stars and waiting for God to speak to them. Today I get to guide them as they meet Helen and Paris. Today I get to push them to ask questions about God's dealing with Saul...could Saul have been saved? Why doesn't David kill Saul? Why doesn't the Lord end Saul? What matters most to Saul?
It's a good day...even if it is a Monday.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Liberty and Jonathan
In Romans 14, Paul speaks to us about living with each other in liberty. The restrictions Christians voluntarily place upon themselves is something that people on the outside looking in frequently don't understand. Why deny yourself? Why make life so much more difficult? Why be different? Paul knew that there were and would always be struggles between those with greater liberties, and lesser liberties. As a pharisee of pharisees, it is easy to guess at some of the challenges that faced Paul in his own ministry to the gentiles.
Still, Paul makes it clear: in Christ, the old concerns about "unclean" do not need to be an issue. Our litmus test is not Levitical Law, but Christ. Philippians 4 is a good summation of our self-imposed standard:
"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things."
This is deceptively simple. It fools many into the belief that Christianity involves no judgement, no standards by which we evaluate right and wrong; in an effort to make up for overly judgemental Christians of former generations, my generation tends to embrace acceptance on all levels, as if those labels meant nothing at all. As with Christ's message, while the gospel frees us from the Levitical code, it does not make our task easier. To honor God, you must obey in your heart, not merely your deeds. The weight of the law is revealed to be greater than any man could ever bear, save one. Paul's words in Romans, in this light, tell us that while all things, in Christ, are good, not all things are good for us.
It is our responsibility to test those things we would take in, to see if they are pleasing to the Lord. It is our task to pro-actively seek God's will, rather than passively allow others to tell us what the Lord wants for us in our lives.
Which brings me to Jonathan. In my Bible/History class, we're deep into I Samuel. The story or David has always been one of my favorites. David is a flawed man, but maintains a heart that turns to the Lord earnestly and consistently. Jonathan, the son of King Saul, is the rightful heir to the throne that David has been promised. In a drama of Homeric proportions, these two men become closest friends, and Jonathan betrays his father (and his own interests) to warn David when Saul would take his life.
The dilemma of Regicide has been something I have been thinking about a lot recently. I am also reading the Iliad in my Literature class, and Agamemnon's behavior begs the question: when is it acceptable to kill the king? Agamemnon pushes Achilles out of the Achean ranks, thereby bringing down ruin upon his own people, until Achilles is roused to action by the death of Patroclus. Why doesn't Achilles end Agamemnon? Or Diomede, Ajax, or any of the myriad of others that seem to be better warriors than the Lord of Men Agamemnon? Its something about the sacred office of the kingship, established by the gods...its something about the polis...ultimately, I am not sure where the line is. Hector shows us that, at least for him, there is no line; he will uphold the king even to the ruin of his entire world. We see in Aeschylus's Orestia Agamemnon's final downfall, and the ruin that it brings...the poet showing us the dilemma of trying to judge the sins of the king. What man can make this decision?
I realize my thoughts are scattered...hold on now, I'm bringing them all together...
Jonathan sides with the annointed one of the Lord, David, over his father, the king. He is active, making a choice to do what be actively believed was right, even at a cost to him and his family. If there is a lesson to pull from all of my scattered thoughts, I think this is it: in our lives, we are allowed to enjoy liberties that challenge all conventional wisdom from religious scholars throughout the ages. Its the freedom of life in Christ. But with that freedom comes a responsibility that we neglect far to often as we embrace that freedom. It demands that we participate in our actions consciously, that we evaluate and measure our steps appropriately, in accordance to what we believe the Lord has allowed for us. The only way to know what the Lord has allowed us to do is to seek His will, earnestly. It may bring us to decisions that upset the norm, that shake the foundations of the establishment...and there may be a price to be paid.
Still, I think when all is said and done, Jonathan shows us clearly that the active responsibility of liberty provides us with opportunities to show love in ways that seem entirely unlikely.
Still, Paul makes it clear: in Christ, the old concerns about "unclean" do not need to be an issue. Our litmus test is not Levitical Law, but Christ. Philippians 4 is a good summation of our self-imposed standard:
"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things."
This is deceptively simple. It fools many into the belief that Christianity involves no judgement, no standards by which we evaluate right and wrong; in an effort to make up for overly judgemental Christians of former generations, my generation tends to embrace acceptance on all levels, as if those labels meant nothing at all. As with Christ's message, while the gospel frees us from the Levitical code, it does not make our task easier. To honor God, you must obey in your heart, not merely your deeds. The weight of the law is revealed to be greater than any man could ever bear, save one. Paul's words in Romans, in this light, tell us that while all things, in Christ, are good, not all things are good for us.
It is our responsibility to test those things we would take in, to see if they are pleasing to the Lord. It is our task to pro-actively seek God's will, rather than passively allow others to tell us what the Lord wants for us in our lives.
Which brings me to Jonathan. In my Bible/History class, we're deep into I Samuel. The story or David has always been one of my favorites. David is a flawed man, but maintains a heart that turns to the Lord earnestly and consistently. Jonathan, the son of King Saul, is the rightful heir to the throne that David has been promised. In a drama of Homeric proportions, these two men become closest friends, and Jonathan betrays his father (and his own interests) to warn David when Saul would take his life.
The dilemma of Regicide has been something I have been thinking about a lot recently. I am also reading the Iliad in my Literature class, and Agamemnon's behavior begs the question: when is it acceptable to kill the king? Agamemnon pushes Achilles out of the Achean ranks, thereby bringing down ruin upon his own people, until Achilles is roused to action by the death of Patroclus. Why doesn't Achilles end Agamemnon? Or Diomede, Ajax, or any of the myriad of others that seem to be better warriors than the Lord of Men Agamemnon? Its something about the sacred office of the kingship, established by the gods...its something about the polis...ultimately, I am not sure where the line is. Hector shows us that, at least for him, there is no line; he will uphold the king even to the ruin of his entire world. We see in Aeschylus's Orestia Agamemnon's final downfall, and the ruin that it brings...the poet showing us the dilemma of trying to judge the sins of the king. What man can make this decision?
I realize my thoughts are scattered...hold on now, I'm bringing them all together...
Jonathan sides with the annointed one of the Lord, David, over his father, the king. He is active, making a choice to do what be actively believed was right, even at a cost to him and his family. If there is a lesson to pull from all of my scattered thoughts, I think this is it: in our lives, we are allowed to enjoy liberties that challenge all conventional wisdom from religious scholars throughout the ages. Its the freedom of life in Christ. But with that freedom comes a responsibility that we neglect far to often as we embrace that freedom. It demands that we participate in our actions consciously, that we evaluate and measure our steps appropriately, in accordance to what we believe the Lord has allowed for us. The only way to know what the Lord has allowed us to do is to seek His will, earnestly. It may bring us to decisions that upset the norm, that shake the foundations of the establishment...and there may be a price to be paid.
Still, I think when all is said and done, Jonathan shows us clearly that the active responsibility of liberty provides us with opportunities to show love in ways that seem entirely unlikely.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Reading Outside of Class
In an effort to make myself a better source for my students, I have resolved to start reading more. I will be interested to see how much I am actually able to get through during my lunch periods, in off periods, and what not...when I am not supposed to be grading.
Since I anticipated this to be a problem, I chose a book that would, at the very least, further my knowledge of the subjects I am teaching. This was my choice:
We will see if I can finish it before the end of the 1st Quarter (the end of October) and what will be even more interesting will be to see if I can post a review. I am excited though...good to emerse myself in the Greek world (I'm already reading Homer, Thucydides, etc) and to engage a modern mind trying to explain them to the modern world. Good times.
Since I anticipated this to be a problem, I chose a book that would, at the very least, further my knowledge of the subjects I am teaching. This was my choice:
We will see if I can finish it before the end of the 1st Quarter (the end of October) and what will be even more interesting will be to see if I can post a review. I am excited though...good to emerse myself in the Greek world (I'm already reading Homer, Thucydides, etc) and to engage a modern mind trying to explain them to the modern world. Good times.
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