I love Oscar season and I love independent films. Of all the pictures nominated for an Oscar this year, The Wrestler is the one I was most attracted to. From what I'd read, it just seemed like my kind of movie: a down-and-out guy gets another chance at being great. Though that's not exactly how the plot went, I enjoyed every moment of the film.
I haven't seen many other Oscar contenders at this point, and I can certainly see why The Wrestler didn't make it into any directing or writing categories, but the acting is definitely worth watching. I really felt for the guy on screen - felt sorry for him and rooted for him and wished he could go back in time to make better decisions in his life - felt how he was great at something that totally tore him apart. How often in life are we willing to sacrifice everything for our one passion? I don't think that's the question the film asks us to ponder, but it's what I was left thinking about.
Some other specific things I enjoyed:
Thinking about the parallels between The Ram's life and the life of the actor, Mickey Rourke, who seamlessly portrayed him.
The Christ imagery and references.
The ending (it was like one of those multiple choice questions where the testing folks ask "what do you think happened next?" but you know there's really only one correct answer).
The 80s Butt Rock music.
The scene where The Ram is selling his souvenirs with a bunch of other washed up wrestlers and, even though it's clear he's been doing this for years, it's like he's seeing his world for the first time. Brilliant.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Four Influential Books
The other day I was writing my "25 Random Things" on Facebook and it struck me that I can identify four books that changed my reading life forever, but I didn't fully explain why. Here's why:
1. The Mystery of the Dinosaur Graveyard: It's the first chapter book I remember reading, so that certainly changed the way I saw books. At the time (1st or 2nd grade, so probably 1987 or 1988) I was obsessed with dinosaurs. I even had a combo dino themed birthday party with my brother at our gymnastics place. I also owned a pair of low-top Converse with little colorful dinosaurs on them; my brother had the high-top version. (Consequently, if any of you know where to purchase such shoes in adult sizes, please let me know.)
2. The House of Dies Drear: I vividly remember reading this book about the underground railroad while I was in the 5th grade. I was too young to comprehend much about slavery or the importance of finding freedom in the north, but I was captivated by the idea of escape and hiding out in a house with many secret passages. Years later I recognized this book as my first foray into what would eventually become a fond field of study: literature about slavery in America and the frightening idea of human ownership.
3. The Color Purple: I had always been bored in English class until junior year. Then Mr. Paige (my favorite teacher ever) recommended I read this book and, quite suddenly, real literature came to life for me. I was finally reading something that challenged my intellect and affected me greatly on a variety of levels. I will always look back on this book as the turning point where I realized for the first time what I would eventually become and perhaps had always been: a lover of English and the written word.
4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: For years after The Color Purple, I delved into literature with a fiery passion that ultimately shaped me into an uncompromisingly intellectual snob, especially when it came to the types of books I chose to read. My mom (a 5th grade teacher with no appropriate adult taste in books, or so I thought at the time) kept nagging me about reading the Potter books. I had no intentions of doing so until I came down with nasty illness right before spring break during my junior year of college. My friends left for a road trip that I was supposed to join them on and I went home to spend time on the couch. Tired of listening to my mom, bored out of my mind, and certainly feeling sorry for myself, I picked up the first HP. I read all four of the books over the next five days and loved every moment. I couldn't wait for the next book to come out. Mom was right.
Where does that leave me now? I get to teach the classics and try to convey my passion for things like symbolism to teens on a daily basis as an English teacher. But, as an aspiring writer, I am now free to write fun, entertaining fiction that is most likely aimed at middle school kids instead of the intellectual stuff I had previously thought was the only thing of value I could ever compose.
1. The Mystery of the Dinosaur Graveyard: It's the first chapter book I remember reading, so that certainly changed the way I saw books. At the time (1st or 2nd grade, so probably 1987 or 1988) I was obsessed with dinosaurs. I even had a combo dino themed birthday party with my brother at our gymnastics place. I also owned a pair of low-top Converse with little colorful dinosaurs on them; my brother had the high-top version. (Consequently, if any of you know where to purchase such shoes in adult sizes, please let me know.)
2. The House of Dies Drear: I vividly remember reading this book about the underground railroad while I was in the 5th grade. I was too young to comprehend much about slavery or the importance of finding freedom in the north, but I was captivated by the idea of escape and hiding out in a house with many secret passages. Years later I recognized this book as my first foray into what would eventually become a fond field of study: literature about slavery in America and the frightening idea of human ownership.
3. The Color Purple: I had always been bored in English class until junior year. Then Mr. Paige (my favorite teacher ever) recommended I read this book and, quite suddenly, real literature came to life for me. I was finally reading something that challenged my intellect and affected me greatly on a variety of levels. I will always look back on this book as the turning point where I realized for the first time what I would eventually become and perhaps had always been: a lover of English and the written word.
4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: For years after The Color Purple, I delved into literature with a fiery passion that ultimately shaped me into an uncompromisingly intellectual snob, especially when it came to the types of books I chose to read. My mom (a 5th grade teacher with no appropriate adult taste in books, or so I thought at the time) kept nagging me about reading the Potter books. I had no intentions of doing so until I came down with nasty illness right before spring break during my junior year of college. My friends left for a road trip that I was supposed to join them on and I went home to spend time on the couch. Tired of listening to my mom, bored out of my mind, and certainly feeling sorry for myself, I picked up the first HP. I read all four of the books over the next five days and loved every moment. I couldn't wait for the next book to come out. Mom was right.
Where does that leave me now? I get to teach the classics and try to convey my passion for things like symbolism to teens on a daily basis as an English teacher. But, as an aspiring writer, I am now free to write fun, entertaining fiction that is most likely aimed at middle school kids instead of the intellectual stuff I had previously thought was the only thing of value I could ever compose.
Friday, January 23, 2009
This quote is brought to you by the letter E
I came across this quote while reading last week's issue of Entertainment Weekly. I wasn't going to blog about it, but then I realized yesterday's post was depressing. I feel better now. Thus:
"The silent e is the ninja of the English alphabet."
It just makes me smile.
Please enjoy. That is all for today.
"The silent e is the ninja of the English alphabet."
It just makes me smile.
Please enjoy. That is all for today.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Why English Teachers Shouldn't Do Math
I shouldn't have let myself do the math.
Feeling unappreciated and overworked today, I decided to crunch some numbers. I wanted to know how many hours I spend per month grading essays in the three sections of AP Language I teach and how that compares with the allotted amount of prep time I am given during that very same month.
Ack and alas! The results were not favorable.
In an average month, I receive six essays per student. I have 105 AP students. That's 630 essays per month that I read through, comment on, assign a grade to, and ultimately enter into my grading program.
Each of these essays is typically two pages long. That's 1260 pages. I'd estimate that it takes me about two minutes per page, conservatively, to grade for a total of 2520 minutes or 42 hours.
In that same average month, I receive 1.5 hours of prep time per day. Assuming a month is four school weeks long (which is what the above figures are based on as well) that's a total of 30 hours of prep time.
30 hours of prep - 42 hours of AP essays = -12 hours of time to do work
This figure doesn't include any prep for what I teach (planning lessons, copying, etc.), meetings I attend, the rest of the grading I do for AP (weekly vocab tests, grammar tests, in-class work, homework, etc.), or the other two classes I teach and grade work for.
No wonder I'm exhausted. No wonder I occasionally bite a kid's head off when she innocently asks me if I'll stay after school so she can take the two hour final she couldn't make it to. No wonder teachers tend to leave the profession after 3-5 years.
No wonder I hate math.
Feeling unappreciated and overworked today, I decided to crunch some numbers. I wanted to know how many hours I spend per month grading essays in the three sections of AP Language I teach and how that compares with the allotted amount of prep time I am given during that very same month.
Ack and alas! The results were not favorable.
In an average month, I receive six essays per student. I have 105 AP students. That's 630 essays per month that I read through, comment on, assign a grade to, and ultimately enter into my grading program.
Each of these essays is typically two pages long. That's 1260 pages. I'd estimate that it takes me about two minutes per page, conservatively, to grade for a total of 2520 minutes or 42 hours.
In that same average month, I receive 1.5 hours of prep time per day. Assuming a month is four school weeks long (which is what the above figures are based on as well) that's a total of 30 hours of prep time.
30 hours of prep - 42 hours of AP essays = -12 hours of time to do work
This figure doesn't include any prep for what I teach (planning lessons, copying, etc.), meetings I attend, the rest of the grading I do for AP (weekly vocab tests, grammar tests, in-class work, homework, etc.), or the other two classes I teach and grade work for.
No wonder I'm exhausted. No wonder I occasionally bite a kid's head off when she innocently asks me if I'll stay after school so she can take the two hour final she couldn't make it to. No wonder teachers tend to leave the profession after 3-5 years.
No wonder I hate math.
Friday, January 16, 2009
About Broccoli
I think I should explain the title of my blog. I was reading in my favorite creative writing book the other day, Bird by Bird, and came across one of the greatest quotes about writing I've ever read:
"Listen to your broccoli, and your broccoli will tell you how to eat it." - Mel Brooks
At first, I just thought it was funny. And then, for no particular reason whatsoever, I pulled an index card out of my desk at work, scrawled the words across in a green pen I chose especially for the occasion, and taped it to a pile of books sitting front and center. I put my feet up on the desk and admired my handiwork.
It entertained me profusely. Mostly because my students who noticed it were like, "uh, Ms. Richter - broccoli?" in that 'are you okay' kind of voice.
"Yes, broccoli," I would reply in the most sane, matter-of-fact voice I could muster. That's when the magic started to happen.
"Do you know why broccoli?" I'd ask, seriously.
A blink or two. Blank stares. An eyebrow raise.
"Because it's a metaphor for life!" I'd say, enthusiastically.
My students would reply with "Cool" or "Oh" or "What’s a metaphor again?"
Then I’d sigh because the magic was almost there.
I am hungry and my broccoli will teach me how to eat.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
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