I’ve been feeling very nostalgic for Norway this weekend. A year ago, I went on an 8 day trip that culminated in spending the National Sami Day in Karasjok, the capital of Samiland in Norway. Karasjok was one of three places that I most wanted to visit while in Norway (the other two were the amazing town of Longyearbyen, home of the Global Seed Vault, and Kautokeino, the other big Sami town, which I wasn’t able to visit). I emailed schools in both Karasjok and Kautokeino, hoping that they would invite me to present to their students. When Martin Pope, a teacher at Samisk VGS in Karasjok, invited me to come for the National Sami Day, I couldn’t believe my good fortune! It meant adding two more days to an already long trip and traveling late at night in order to get to Karasjok for the festivities, but it was well worth it to be involved in the Sami celebration. Read about my trip here.
Dixie and one of the Sami students getting ready for a spark race
One of the things we don’t talk about enough as teachers is how much fun (yes, I mean it, fun) it is to prepare for a new class. Just before the holidays, my department chair asked me to teach a class in an entirely new area for me since one of my colleagues and friends will be out on maternity leave this semester (congratulations, Ginny!). Because I had so much grading and grant writing to do, it has taken me awhile to get to class preparation. I conferenced with Ginny getting her advice on how to teach the class, I ordered books, and otherwise gathered materials. But it wasn’t until last week while I was on vacation that I was able to really start reading the materials.
So, yes, I was on vacation in Mexico and I read a lot–I read when I was stuck in airports with long layovers. I’d read in the morning when I woke up and wasn’t ready to go out for breakfast yet. I’d read at night when I returned to the hotel tired after a long day of doing what tourists do. I even took my textbook down to the zocalo (in Oaxaca) one night and read while I ate dinner on an outdoor patio. And you know, the readings were deeply engaging, interesting, and otherwise enjoyable.
The class that I’ve been asked to teach is Literacy Studies. Although much of what I do in relation to English education is devoted to how to teach reading comprehension, writing, and literary analysis in secondary classrooms, Literacy Studies is more focused on the effects of literacy in people’s every day lives. This morning, I’ve been reading essays about the history of standards-based education–and how the discipline of English/Language Arts and the basis for standards are antithetical. I’ve also been reading about how we impose certain expectations about school engagement on adolescents without questioning whether those frameworks are accurate or not–and about the ways that adolescents will assume certain attitudes about school because they think that is what is expected of them. I’m learning about the difference between the autonomous model of literacy vs. the ideological model.
As I read, I take notes on post-its (because one of the books is borrowed from Ginny). My mind keeps making interesting connections. I want to send one article to the Writing Project listserv to see what teachers think about it. I am refining what assignments (both writing projects and oral presentations) I want my students to do. I’m thinking about the questions that will frame how I organize my class. I’m trying to come up with ways to make the material accessible to undergraduates. I still have about a half a book left to read, but I’m starting to feel a lot more comfortable about this subject area–and I’m really looking forward to discovering what my students will think of the ideas in these texts.
I’m excited to teach the class–I just hope I can figure out how to get my students excited about this content, as well. Teaching is an intellectual exercise–which is one of the reasons that I love my profession so much.
For the last seven months I haven’t had any kind of television service: no cable, no satellite, no antenna. When I turn the television on, all I can see is gray snow. It started out as a budgetary measure. I didn’t receive a full paycheck for a number of months after I returned from Norway, so I cut out things that weren’t necessary: television, a gardener, a cell phone (for a month). I learned quite quickly that I could live just fine without a gardener. I actually enjoy mowing my lawn and I feel a sense of accomplishment when I’m done. Television was a little more difficult to abandon.
However, in the age of the internet, hulu, and netflix, it isn’t really necessary to forgo T.V. I still have series that I follow, and I’ve even discovered some new shows through hulu (Glee, Dead Like Me, V). I’m still totally hooked on Dexter, which I view on Netflix (although I hate being a season behind).
But there are some things I miss: the Food Network, Top Chef, Project Runway. I get a little mesmerized by television when I visit friends . . . and these are the shows/networks that I want to watch. Still, when I was in Utah visiting my parents who have cable, I didn’t turn the television on very much at all.
So this is what I’ve found out. I don’t need to spend money on cable or satellite. There are plenty of things I can watch without it. Also, and more importantly, I’ve found other things I can do with my time. I like that I’m not so glued to the television when I’m home. I listen to music more frequently, read, go out with friends, or obsessively check Facebook (okay, that’s my next frontier for self-discipline).
By nature, I’m reflective, often to a fault. Today, I’ve been thinking about what I was doing a year ago, how much I’ve learned during 2009, and what 2010 will hold.
Last New Year’s Eve, I had a party at my apartment in Oslo. I’d just been traveling in Portugal and Spain for two weeks, soaking in the sun and largely spending time alone. I was really glad that I would be able to see the New Year in with friends. It wasn’t a large party, but it turned out to be meaningful for several of the people who attended (Susie, Ben, Stine, Cathrine, Hilde, and Yannike). Susie brought tarot cards and did a reading for all of us–I remember that we all felt like what she told us really fit what was happening in our lives. And over the last year, Susie and Ben became parents, Stine got a job teaching in Spain, and Hilde bought a place of her own. I’m not sure if ground breaking events happened to Cathrine and Yannike, but I hope their year was amazing. I think about how atypical that party was, how quiet, how thoughtful, how focused on understanding who we were and what life was all about–strange fare for a New Year’s Eve party–but that party turned out to be a fitting beginning for 2009 . . . at least for me.
What has my year been like? My last six months in Norway were filled with adventure and affection for so many people, both those I met on school visits and the good friends who came to visit. I had some incredible experiences including dog sledding, celebrating the National Sami day, eating award winning food with friends in Sandefjord, teaching wonderful students in such places as Bergen and Trondheim, talking with dedicated and smart teachers every where I went, and enjoying my friends in Oslo. I traveled outside of Norway, as well, going to Paris, London, the Canary Islands, and Copenhagen. My year in Norway was stunning, both because of what I’ve listed above and also because of the time it gave me to get distance from every day life and rethink who I am and how I want to live my life.
During the last six months, I’ve been trying to make changes. For years, I had not taken good care of myself emotionally and I hadn’t worked to get out of some destructive mindsets. I’ve been trying to break out of those bad habits in order to embrace life and live more fully. I succeed but I also fail sometimes. Sometimes I’m radiantly happy and sometimes I’m violently depressed. But through it all, I know that I’m changing and growing. I’m discovering new parts of my psyche–and I haven’t allowed my return to “real life” to become a return to the status quo.
So . . . 2010. I hope that I can continue to overcome fears, try new things, be honest about my emotions and about who I am. I suppose that’s my big resolution–to continue the self work that I’ve been engaged in this past year.
This year I celebrated Christmas with my family for the first time in a few years. I didn’t take many photos but here are a few, including my mom in her Norwegian sweater and the family enjoying Rachel’s Beatles Rock Band.
Over the last month, I’ve seen such amazing opportunities for online professional learning communities (PLCs). I spend so much time on my computer, but there are so many things posted on the internet that I don’t know about . . . including information directly related to my academic interests. I love the concept behind Diigo, a social bookmarking site that allows people to share what they’re reading, to highlight and annotate websites, and to share their annotations with others (both within and outside of their groups). Recently I set up a Diigo group: Teaching English in Central California. I sent out a couple of invitations, but so far I’m the only member of the group. I’d really like to get this going. Please either join my group or send me suggestions about how I can get others to see the possibilities of such a group.
Here’s an example of what Diigo can do. I’ve taken a screen shot of an article I read, highlighted, and annotated. Readers can read what I said and reply to it . . . multiple times. So Diigo allows a group of people to have conversations, to question, to express excitement, to argue about what they read on the internet.
I’ve used delicious in the past as a way of accessing my bookmarks from any computer, but Diigo can be an online repository for your bookmarks AND it has these capabilities, too. It also allowed me to import my bookmarks from delicious so that I still have all the information that I used to keep there.
I know, I know. I’ve gone totally AWOL over the last month. What can I say except that I’ve been really busy and productive in other ways.
For now, let me fill in the gaps briefly:
Life is an adventure.
Teaching is a really satisfying career.
Diigo and all the other techie stuff I’ve been learning about rock.
Ask me to tell you a story–that’s what I’m working on right now.
That will have to do for now. Two more days of teaching. Big projects to grade. I’ll be back when I’m either done with grading . . . or when I’m avoiding grading.
Two years ago: I blogged about my friends Chuck Rhodes and Sandy Godfrey Wallentine. Chuck died in his early 20’s; Sandy in her late 30’s. A year and a half ago, my friend Roger Nelson also died. All three were close friends at one point in my life, people that I still miss.
One year ago: I was in Bergen and Stavanger having a difficult weekend for a variety of reasons which I won’t blog about now. But after spending last year telling Norwegian students about the Day of the Dead quite frequently, it only seems fitting that this year Day of the Dead should take on special significance.
This year: I went to my friend Alex’s house for a Day of the Dead celebration. All day I thought about my grandfather who died at age 98 two and a half years ago. At Alex’s house, we piled pictures and mementos on altars in honor of our loved ones. We ate food that had significance in the lives of our loved ones. Alex made tamales from his mother’s recipe. John brought “funeral potatoes,” a Mormon mix of potatoes and cheese common at funerals in Utah. I brought Snickers bars, my grandpa’s favorite candy. After he got diabetes and could no longer eat Snickers, he still had a bag of them in his room to share with his visitors. Someone brought pate, another brought spaghetti. The people we had lost came up in conversation all night. In a private moment, John and I both admitted to each other that it had been a teary day.
Altar for my Grandfather
Today I found out that someone I knew years ago, Dan Foote, died last week. He was too young to go . . . and I’ve felt on edge all day thinking about him and what he meant in my life.
I don’t know how to end this post, except to say that over the last few months I’ve felt more grateful to be alive than I have perhaps ever. I want to live life to its fullest, so that whenever I pass on, I’ll have no regrets.
Fresno. When I lived in southern California, we called Fresno the “armpit of California.” I’d visited the city because my dad was giving a lecture and spending time with his sister and her family who used to live in Fresno. All I saw of Fresno back then was my Aunt Eloise’s house and a Mormon church. When I had my interview in Fresno, my flight was canceled so I ended up spending less than 24 hours in the town. I didn’t see much of Fresno, but I was quite sure that I didn’t want to spend my life in small town Texas, that I wanted to be back west, back in California–so I accepted the job, packed up my things and moved to Fresno. I’ve lived here for 10 years now and, after a year in Norway, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to me to have made my home in Fresno.
Fresno is a city with an inferiority complex. The most common praise for the city is that it takes only 3 hours to drive to the Bay area, Los Angeles, the coast, national parks. Yeah, the best thing about Fresno is leaving it and going somewhere else. But I think Fresno has more to offer that that.
Let me use this weekend as an example. Thursday (I know, not technically the weekend, but I’m starting there), our former colleague Steve Yarbrough who left this year to teach at Emerson College in Boston was in town. He gave a reading on campus, and then many of us went to Connie and John Hales’ house for a party. I arrived there at about 10 p.m. and the party was in full swing. I sat in the living room talking with Samina, John, Alex, Tanya, Linnea, Matthew, and others about the reading (which I had missed), about the Young Writers Conference, and about Fresno State’s upcoming intersession in London. Living in Fresno has brought writers I hadn’t heard of before into my consciousness, including my wonderful colleagues past and present: Steve, Alex Espinoza, David Anthony Durham, Liza Wieland, Connie, John, Steven Church, Tim Skeen, Ruth Schwartz, and Lillian Faderman (to be fair, I had heard of Lillian, a seminal theorist of lesbian history, before I arrived here). Last night, I went to a reading at Palominos with some local poets: Tim Hernandez, Mike Medrano, Marisol Baca, Lance Canales (I may be mis-remembering his name) and Connie. Mike mentioned Juan Felipe Herrera, who spent years here, and all the poets celebrated the local experience. Also last night, I went to Audie’s Olympic where a local band, the Suppressors, performed, including a piece about the Marcus Wesson ska (an infamous local who fathered children with his children, many of whom were killed or committed suicide together). So, what’s my point here? The Valley is a fertile place for creativity and self-expression. Locals and transplants both find inspiration in this agricultural, sometimes dysfunctional, but always interesting town. So, that’s one reason I love Fresno.
Another reason I love Fresno is embedded in the previous paragraph: I have great friends here. Staying in Fresno as long as I have has allowed me to develop friendships over a long period of time. I’ve always made friends easily (a skill learned from moving around a lot), but the great thing about living somewhere so long is that I’ve had the chance to really find friends who stick, who I trust and love, who I hope will be in my life forever. These last few years in particular have been quite rich in terms of my friendships–and after a year away, I’m also making new friends and deepening relationships with people who have been in my life for years. I appreciate the openness of people here–it feels easy to socialize with old friends and new. Friday night, John and John invited Tanya and I over for game night and dinner. John, a fantastic cook, made a cheese souffle, sauteed green beans, salad, and roasted potatoes. It was all so good. We also played Scrabble. John B. won, as he always does, and, even though I get rather competitive with games, I still was so happy to lose . . . because it meant I was hanging out with people who are really important to me. . . . oh, and because I love playing Scrabble and I don’t get to do it enough. Last night, Kristie and I met in the Tower district: we went to the aforementioned poetry reading at Palominos, ate dinner at Veni, Vidi, Vici’s, saw the Suppressors at Audie’s, and hung out at Livingstone’s until about 1:15 a.m. Kristie and I have known each other for years, but in some ways, she feels like a new friend, new because we’re getting to know each other better. We laughed a lot and I had so much fun jumping from one place to the next in the Tower. So, yeah, there are amazing, wonderful people who live in Fresno, and I’m lucky to count so many as my friends. I think Fresno’s inferiority complex adds to the sense that people who are interested in the arts want to stick together, to support Fresno’s efforts to celebrate the arts, and to take advantage of the cultural opportunities that Fresno offers. I can go to events by myself and encounter people I know, even though Fresno has a population of almost a half million people. Sometimes, Fresno feels like a small town that way.
This morning, I slept in late, skipped my morning walk (which is another thing I love about Fresno, walking around the Fresno High/Fig Garden area), mowed my lawn, trimmed some trees/bushes, and picked up fallen fruit in my backyard. I love my house–it’s comfortable, pretty (at least I think it is), and homey. It was built in about 1945 and is in an established neighborhood with quiet, tree-lined streets, friendly neighbors, and beautiful yards. I’m grateful that my job has given me financial security, allowing me to be a home owner in such a charming neighborhood. I don’t know if I would have ever been able to afford a home if I’d stayed in Huntington Beach.
Recently, a friend posted a great Facebook update: “John Jordan loves Fresno–maybe for no good reason, but he does.” Many of us agreed–and some posted good reasons why. I guess this blog entry illustrates some of the reasons that I love Fresno.
