The Giver involves no rabbis

In preparation for the Child Lit class I am taking in July (full-FULL- course title: Children's Literature in a Balanced Reading Program -Focus on Grades 3-8 ).  I have to read (or re-read) some kids and young adult books. 

So far I have re-read Charlotte's Web and The Giver.

I didn't write about Charlotte's Web because it made me cry a lot and I had just written another entry about crying a lot and I didn't want to worry anyone. 

Synopsis: A piglet, Wilbur, very much enjoys life and throws himself down into piles of hay in absolute hysterics (Wilbur is a bit of a dandy) when faced with the reality that death is inevitable meets an older spider who fully understands and embraces life's natural cycles.  Life, death, detailed (almost oddly pornographic) scenes of spiders eating flies, bacon. crycrycry.

Last night I finished reading The Giver by Lois Lowry.  I had read this when I was younger and it has been on my bookshelf since then.  I had never been tempted to pick it up again because for some reason I remembered it having a Jewish theme (I blame the rabbi-looking guy on the cover and the prominence of a character named Asher).

The Giver is actually about an alternate community where everything is controlled down to the point it is in black and white.  People live in assigned family units, do assigned jobs, they have no knowledge of life outside or before the community.  They live in what they call "The Sameness".  One person in the community is designated the Receiver of Memory and he hold all memories of the outside world from colors, to weather (they have none of either in the community) to death and war and pain and love.  The main character, 12 year old Jonah, is designated to become the next Receiver and begins to inherit the knowledge from The Giver.

It's a warm up book to Brave New World and 1984 and all that good stuff.  

Message that ultimately maintaining "sameness" eliminates humanity and allows people to do appallingly inhumane things without batting an eye.

Plus they make you take a pill to get rid of "The Stirrings" that start around the age of 12.  That is no life I'd want to live.

First grade

I have found out where I will be placed for the first part of my student teaching in the fall!  

I will be with 1st graders.

This is a relief because my giant boyfriend had planted the idea in my head of the possibility that my students might be taller than me.  It is the rare 6 year old who breaks 5 feet so I am feeling (relatively) safe on that front. 

This has made me try to see what I remember from first grade:

I think I was starting to know how to read.

I shared a school birthday with Anna M.

My class was OBSESSED with Fiddler on the Roof. (Oy, jew school).

Ari stuck a pair of scissors (possibly) accidentally in Anna M's forehead.

We wrote books.  Or we would narrate and illustrate them and the teacher would write it down.

In one of those books (what makes me happy and what makes me sad) I wrote that "it makes me sad when my dad hits me" prompting the school to have a SERIOUS conversation with my father who would never even threaten to hit me.  I wonder what that was about. 

When learning about syllables I went to WAR over my belief that "Charles" has 2 syllables.  My first academic defeat.  I still have not forgotten it.

What do you guys remember about first grade that will help me prepare to face them come September?

This...was probably a foreseeable problem.

Jane:  read your blog....i read the link as "e meats paste" and i was like....hm meat paste?

Me:  ha ha I am a little worried about the unintentional "meat" in my address.  

oh well.  

maybe it will intrigue the fans of electronic meat paste

a fast growing industry

Right Decision

OK.  So everyone at my graphic design job now knows that I will be leaving to go back to school for museum education.

I feel totally secure in my decision.  Furthering this sense that I truly belong working with children is the fact that this Gawker post sent me into a fit of giggles at my desk yesterday: 

The New York Times' Arts Beat Twitter feed was hijacked last night. Granted access to the feed's 2,500 followers, what message did the interloper choose to send? "Pooping."

AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA... I am 5.

The Big Stuff

Yesterday I saw Up.  Beyond its ability to accurately portray a dog's thought pattern (squirrel!), Up also beautifully illustrated a few big picture life issues that have been on my mind lately.  

In a mostly silent opening sequence we see a couple (Ellie and Carl) meet, marry, and grow old together.  They think of having kids, find out they cannot and revive an old life dream to travel. They save money in a jar that is broken open prematurely several times when the money is more urgently needed for life's little emergencies (broken legs, tree falling on roof...).  Time slips on and Ellie dies without having ever gotten around to her original dream.  

I bawled. In 3D.

I have been crying a lot lately (for some of it I blame hormones).   I have been crying about the Big Things.  Everyone I love will eventually die.  We have such a short time here, how do we not lose track of the big plans.  

I think maybe it's because I'm at a point in my life where I can sort of, kind of, almost peak at what my future might look like and I can begin to envision life's big milestones and they are awesome and terrifying and amazing and tragic.  Which is the ultimate message in the film: all of life is an adventure. 

I wonder how young viewers responded to these themes in Up.  Is there any part of them which understands transition and end?  Does a 60 year old wonder that same thing about me?

Anyway... Go see Up.  If you're anything like me you'll cry and then you'll laugh that super giddy laugh that comes after crying and then you'll nap.  

I... might be 4 years old.

Oh SH...ugar

I curse too much.  WAY too fucking much.

Today my boss brought in her young daughter to work and not only do I not know at all how to interact with her (which doesn't bode well for my future teaching career) but I also keep cursing.  I cannot stop.  It's like the presence of a small child triggers a cursing instinct in me.

Even for the adult sphere I curse too much.  I have accidentally started fights with my boyfriend because I forget that cursing doesn't always add the lighthearted humor to a conversation I think it does.

I have also recently found out that a gibberish sound I make instead of cursing means "cocksucker" in korean.  I even curse by accident! Multi-lingually! 

So before I start working working with children (and for the sake of all my human interactions) I must cut back on the cursing.

Any suggestions of non-cursing interjections?

Drool...

In the New York Times today a kind of a "no duh" concept article about reusing trash for arts and crafts projects.  

But I am seriously jealous of both the breadth and depth of their collection of trash (and their organizational skills).

Cute children and creative projects slideshow on the NYT website