(For part 1, go here)
Part 2:
Vagueness, that icky trait of language, seems to me largely to result from protection of pride. If you (not you, of course) commit to an idea or a way of expressing it, you claim it, own it, put your stamp on it. You say, "This is what I believe. I stand behind this. It is an expression of me." This is nothing less than a wager of pride: you're opening yourself up to all manner of criticism should your ideas be deemed wrong/misguided/unpopular/unfashionable/(you get the point).
Dramatic? Maybe. But but but, let's just think about it for a hot minute. Some anecdotal evidence: during the 17 student paper conferences I had a few weeks ago, only one of my students without fumbling, mumbling, and hedging, actually articulated a coherent answer to the question I posed. I'd only asked them to verbalize what they'd already written in their papers (which they had right in front of them). Yet they bumbled about, unwilling to assert what they'd already (semi-)asserted in writing (it seems their high school teachers never seemed to expound on the evils of the word "seems" like mine seemingly did all the time).
Why are they so reticent? Trust me, it's not b/c I'm some imposing figure. I've never had to yell at this group (which is totally weird), and at 5' 5" and 110 pounds, I'd get my butt whooped by most of these students in a fight.
But it's not just freshmen: I hedge and hem and haw (and whatever other h-word you can think of) with the best of 'em in any class where I feel even slightly outbrained. I start sentences with, "Well, something that I'm just thinking now that I, I, uh, haven't fully fleshed out, is, uh . . . " Do we have so little self-confidence in reserve that we can't put 2 ounces on the line? Have our egos become so fragile? So many people (obnoxious political commentators excluded, of course) would rather be "safe" by being "not wrong" (and, importantly, they end up being "not right" either) than risk criticism/censure/failure/a learning experience for the sake of self-expression and all those other lovely words that could go here.
So: here comes my dorky prescriptive statement, get ready. I think we need to take back the language. Yes, I just said that really dork-face thing. But I mean it!
We need to rescue our speech (and writing) from the dangerous pits of vagueness and ineffectuality and say what we really mean. We need to use language - and teach our students to use language - in a way that is empowering and assertive. (Without, of course, being over-powering and bullying. There's already enough of that out there.)
I don't yet have a plan for enacting this with my own speech . . . BUT, as a teacher, the place I'm going to start is by calling out my students on their hedging and asking them, WHY?!?! they do this. I'm going to call their attention to their habits. I'm going to insist that they take a risk and take a stand in their speech and with their ideas. After all, they're paying lots of money to tell me what they think . . . .
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Friday 4: Fab Hairstyles
The subtitle I really want seemed excessive, so I'll put it here:
Fab Hairstyles I Wish I Had the Guts/Ability to Get (but don't)
There. Much better. And actually, coming back after having written most of this post, I think I need to add a sub-subtitle: Some Random Notes about Prom. Now, onto the haircuts:
4. My husband (and mother and friends and neighbors) would have a panic attack if I got this done to my hair. (And I'm pretty sure I would, too.) Is he one of those guys who likes long hair? Of course. But he also likes my hair short. Just not as much. His health is not the reason I don't go for Michelle Williams's pixie look, however; it's b/c I would look, well, stupid. I don't have the face shape for it. My mom, Brad, and I have been unable to figure out precisely what shape of face I do have, but whatever it is, it's not the one you need to pull this look off.
3. Yeah, this is the second time Kate Beckinsale has appeared on my blog in a month's time. What of it? I mean, she's gorgeous, has great hair, and plays a vampire in the movies. There's not a whole lot more that I ask for from celebrities. Anyway, Kate's long wavy hair doesn't look complicated or difficult. And, for her and her team of a bajillion stylists, it probably isn't. But real hair doesn't do this sort of thing. And certainly not my hair. Fullness without poofiness, soft waves that stay wavy without the hardened look of hairspray (which doesn't work in my hair anyway and which I haven't used since probably my senior prom) - this is movie/photo shoot/photoshop magic.
2. I simply adore this hairstyle. I don't quite know what's going on with it - like, is this the work of a blow dryer and round brush? hot rollers? a curling iron? 800 nearly undetecable layers? It's really hard to say. But this bob is just so darn cute - too cute for me, in fact. I'm just not that cute of a person. Note: I really can't stand Katie Holmes. She's done nothing of interest in the past decade (marrying Tom Cruise is NOT of interest), and I tired of Joey Porter at about the same time my hunky date to my first prom noted that he and his hunky friends adored Dawson's Creek and watched it religiously. Talk about 2 birds, 1 stone.
1. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, lovely. Lovely! I've been a huge fan of this hairstyle for years. The texture and thickness of my hair is not dissimilar to Reese Witherspoon's, so I could probably rock the long, straight layers pretty well. But bangs - esp. straight-across-the-forehead one - take guts. Guts I don't have. Taking the leap for my current side bangs (which now can be pulled back into a ponytail!) was like choosing a single stock in which to invest a life savings. But I did it, and then I loved them. For three seconds. And then I hated them. For three months. Finally, I learned how to fix them, and we now maintain a sometimes cordial, sometimes strained peace with one another.
*For the sake of consistency, I guess I'll say something about my junior prom as well. Um, my hair looked awesome and my dress was fab and unlike anything anyone else wore, but my date was a dud. I only asked him (yes, I asked - so what?!?!) b/c I knew my mom was imagining scenarios where I didn't go to the prom and turned into a troll and lived forever in her house, husband-less and eating bon-bons all day. He was the younger brother of a friend, cute enough, but lacking seriously in the smarts and personality arenas.
Fab Hairstyles I Wish I Had the Guts/Ability to Get (but don't)
There. Much better. And actually, coming back after having written most of this post, I think I need to add a sub-subtitle: Some Random Notes about Prom. Now, onto the haircuts:
4. My husband (and mother and friends and neighbors) would have a panic attack if I got this done to my hair. (And I'm pretty sure I would, too.) Is he one of those guys who likes long hair? Of course. But he also likes my hair short. Just not as much. His health is not the reason I don't go for Michelle Williams's pixie look, however; it's b/c I would look, well, stupid. I don't have the face shape for it. My mom, Brad, and I have been unable to figure out precisely what shape of face I do have, but whatever it is, it's not the one you need to pull this look off. 
2. I simply adore this hairstyle. I don't quite know what's going on with it - like, is this the work of a blow dryer and round brush? hot rollers? a curling iron? 800 nearly undetecable layers? It's really hard to say. But this bob is just so darn cute - too cute for me, in fact. I'm just not that cute of a person. Note: I really can't stand Katie Holmes. She's done nothing of interest in the past decade (marrying Tom Cruise is NOT of interest), and I tired of Joey Porter at about the same time my hunky date to my first prom noted that he and his hunky friends adored Dawson's Creek and watched it religiously. Talk about 2 birds, 1 stone. 
1. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, lovely. Lovely! I've been a huge fan of this hairstyle for years. The texture and thickness of my hair is not dissimilar to Reese Witherspoon's, so I could probably rock the long, straight layers pretty well. But bangs - esp. straight-across-the-forehead one - take guts. Guts I don't have. Taking the leap for my current side bangs (which now can be pulled back into a ponytail!) was like choosing a single stock in which to invest a life savings. But I did it, and then I loved them. For three seconds. And then I hated them. For three months. Finally, I learned how to fix them, and we now maintain a sometimes cordial, sometimes strained peace with one another.
1. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, lovely. Lovely! I've been a huge fan of this hairstyle for years. The texture and thickness of my hair is not dissimilar to Reese Witherspoon's, so I could probably rock the long, straight layers pretty well. But bangs - esp. straight-across-the-forehead one - take guts. Guts I don't have. Taking the leap for my current side bangs (which now can be pulled back into a ponytail!) was like choosing a single stock in which to invest a life savings. But I did it, and then I loved them. For three seconds. And then I hated them. For three months. Finally, I learned how to fix them, and we now maintain a sometimes cordial, sometimes strained peace with one another. *For the sake of consistency, I guess I'll say something about my junior prom as well. Um, my hair looked awesome and my dress was fab and unlike anything anyone else wore, but my date was a dud. I only asked him (yes, I asked - so what?!?!) b/c I knew my mom was imagining scenarios where I didn't go to the prom and turned into a troll and lived forever in her house, husband-less and eating bon-bons all day. He was the younger brother of a friend, cute enough, but lacking seriously in the smarts and personality arenas.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Am I really eight years behind the rest of the world?
So, I've frequented Starbucks this past week or two, and, if you've been there for any chunk of time, you know they have a tendency to play songs over and over again. When you're there for 3 or 4 hours, you get pretty familiar with whatever you can't block out with ears plugs, John Coltrane, or index fingers. Plus, the annoying guy sitting to your right helps you out b/c he sings every other line out loud, humming the tune in b/t. (Sorry, I had to complain about him again. He really put a damper on my Tuesday.)
But anyway. I am currently obsessed with a Jayhawks' song called "Save It for a Rainy Day" that I've heard umpteen times at that delicious coffee shop. (And please, I don't want to hear how it's so commercial and bourgeois, etc. etc. Their coffee tastes good, and the place is relatively clean. There: it's officially met my requirements for coffee-selling establishments.) So, I look the tune up today, and it turns out it came out in 2003. I'd been thinking either late last year/early this year or maybe the 1960s (seriously). How do I miss things for EIGHT years?
Are the Jayhawks super famous? No. Am I a super-up-to-date music person? No. But this song is right up my alley, and in 2003 I was a college junior still 300% into finding new music. I mean, I'm out of touch, sure, but it's a little shocking for me to learn I'm this out of touch.
(The video's actually pretty cool - it's got Mary-Louise Parker wearing old school clothes. I guess that means it officially meets my requirements for music videos . . .)
But anyway. I am currently obsessed with a Jayhawks' song called "Save It for a Rainy Day" that I've heard umpteen times at that delicious coffee shop. (And please, I don't want to hear how it's so commercial and bourgeois, etc. etc. Their coffee tastes good, and the place is relatively clean. There: it's officially met my requirements for coffee-selling establishments.) So, I look the tune up today, and it turns out it came out in 2003. I'd been thinking either late last year/early this year or maybe the 1960s (seriously). How do I miss things for EIGHT years?
Are the Jayhawks super famous? No. Am I a super-up-to-date music person? No. But this song is right up my alley, and in 2003 I was a college junior still 300% into finding new music. I mean, I'm out of touch, sure, but it's a little shocking for me to learn I'm this out of touch.
(The video's actually pretty cool - it's got Mary-Louise Parker wearing old school clothes. I guess that means it officially meets my requirements for music videos . . .)
For just one day - just one!
For one day - that's all I'm asking - I would like to not spill something and, as a result, not have to clean something up.
Today (it's currently 11:51 p.m. on Wednesday) was almost almost that day. Then about 15 minutes ago I kicked over an open bottle of over-priced-yet-totally-worth-it-b/c-I-haven't-been-able-to-find-it-in-7-years IBC black cherry pop, and it went cascading across the coffee table. (Yeah, hon, I'm glad you were asleep for that one.) And I, of course, followed with a mound of papertowels, both wet and dry, and cleaned it up.
Yesterday, I spilled rice, from the pot, onto the tablecloth and the hardwood floor. I can't remember what I spilled on Monday, but trust me, I spilled. The day before I spilled my water when Brad and I were at Starbucks. Most memorable in recent history is the half mug of Dr. Pepper I spilled on my leather couch. That was a sh*t show if ever there was one. I can't remember the last time I moved so fast.
I'm not sure what my problem is. Do I have a self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing going on here? Are my motor skills just that bad? Or maybe it's my memory since I put something down, make a mental note not to knock it over, then proceed to knock it over with uncompromising swiftness (sounds like a little bit of option 1 in there, too). Perhaps I am just a klutz, plain and simple.
I don't know why I can't go even a day without messing up a shirt or a couch cushion, but I so frequently spill Mt. Dew, Snapple, water, and every type of solid food you'd never imagine someone spilling (like, oh, Bagel Bites) that Brad's thinking about putting restrictions on my use of dish towels. I dirty those suckers faster than he can clean 'em.
Today (it's currently 11:51 p.m. on Wednesday) was almost almost that day. Then about 15 minutes ago I kicked over an open bottle of over-priced-yet-totally-worth-it-b/c-I-haven't-been-able-to-find-it-in-7-years IBC black cherry pop, and it went cascading across the coffee table. (Yeah, hon, I'm glad you were asleep for that one.) And I, of course, followed with a mound of papertowels, both wet and dry, and cleaned it up.
Yesterday, I spilled rice, from the pot, onto the tablecloth and the hardwood floor. I can't remember what I spilled on Monday, but trust me, I spilled. The day before I spilled my water when Brad and I were at Starbucks. Most memorable in recent history is the half mug of Dr. Pepper I spilled on my leather couch. That was a sh*t show if ever there was one. I can't remember the last time I moved so fast.
I'm not sure what my problem is. Do I have a self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing going on here? Are my motor skills just that bad? Or maybe it's my memory since I put something down, make a mental note not to knock it over, then proceed to knock it over with uncompromising swiftness (sounds like a little bit of option 1 in there, too). Perhaps I am just a klutz, plain and simple.
I don't know why I can't go even a day without messing up a shirt or a couch cushion, but I so frequently spill Mt. Dew, Snapple, water, and every type of solid food you'd never imagine someone spilling (like, oh, Bagel Bites) that Brad's thinking about putting restrictions on my use of dish towels. I dirty those suckers faster than he can clean 'em.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Addendum (revision?) to "Addendum"
(This feels meta, but I think everything is meta, so it's probably not.)
Turns out, I do have reason for my misanthropy:
17 student papers to grade
+ guy singing/mumbling the lyrics to the music at Starbucks
grrrr
If you'd prefer, I've got another:
book I NEED for paper I'm writing is to be found everywhere
except places that are convenient
x STILL waiting to hear about my essay after 16.5 weeks
double grrrr
I could keep going, but subtraction and division wouldn't really make sense here. Besides, I'd rather spend the energy on hate.
Turns out, I do have reason for my misanthropy:
17 student papers to grade
+ guy singing/mumbling the lyrics to the music at Starbucks
grrrr
If you'd prefer, I've got another:
book I NEED for paper I'm writing is to be found everywhere
except places that are convenient
x STILL waiting to hear about my essay after 16.5 weeks
double grrrr
I could keep going, but subtraction and division wouldn't really make sense here. Besides, I'd rather spend the energy on hate.
Addendum to "A Thought on Birth"
Upon further reflection, I think perhaps King Lear had it right a few hundred years ago:
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools . . .
The king had reason for his misanthrophy, even if I don't.
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools . . .
The king had reason for his misanthrophy, even if I don't.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
No, Thanks. Really
It took me 20 years to try the stuffing at Thanksgiving dinner, and yeah, I'm glad I finally did b/c, as it turns out, my mom makes a mean freakin' stuffing (esp. for someone who isn't much into cooking). Excepting that experience, however, I'm pretty set in my food-ways, and I'm fine with that.
Most everyone I went to school with during my MFA days equated exotic/expensive/complicated/odd foods with being cultured/sophisticated/intelligent/worth a damn. Perhaps I am none of these things since I do not eat such foods. (I've eaten duck though! And sampled lobster!) But I also don't eat - as in, have never and will not - A LOT of other things that I would classify as "typical" foods. If I'm unsophisticated etc. b/c I don't eat prosciutto and capers, then what am I given that I don't eat tuna salad (or tuna, for that matter)? Or any of these:
gravy
coleslaw
bleu cheese dressing
wasabi
guacamole
beef chili
pulled pork (and ham bbq, if that's different from pulled pork - ?)
beef stroganoff
Most everyone I went to school with during my MFA days equated exotic/expensive/complicated/odd foods with being cultured/sophisticated/intelligent/worth a damn. Perhaps I am none of these things since I do not eat such foods. (I've eaten duck though! And sampled lobster!) But I also don't eat - as in, have never and will not - A LOT of other things that I would classify as "typical" foods. If I'm unsophisticated etc. b/c I don't eat prosciutto and capers, then what am I given that I don't eat tuna salad (or tuna, for that matter)? Or any of these:
gravy
 |
| Gravy, anyone? Methinks not. |
macaroni salad
potato salad
hard-boiled eggs
egg salad
thousand island dressing bleu cheese dressing
wasabi
guacamole
beef chili
pulled pork (and ham bbq, if that's different from pulled pork - ?)
beef stroganoff
 |
| Please don't pass the potato salad. |
brussel sprouts
hot sausage
mussels
scallops
oysters
meatloaf
salisbury steak
salisbury steak
candied yams
anchovies
artichokes
(Though tempted to alphabetize these b/c they'll look so much nicer, I'm restraining myself . . . just barely . . . .)
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