Post 3: Moms and Dads and Kids..... Oh, My!

Reading literature has brought so much to my life (God that sounds cheesy…whatever, it’s true—the joys of escapism), but there is much to be said about reading other “texts,” other forms of communication, like the in-person kind, with real people.

Ah, so much to say…

Had a conversation with the parent of a student the other day, and it was a bit like the movie Groundhog Day, where Bill Murray experiences the same day over and over. I’ve had this particular conversation soooooo many times. It is interesting, the experiences that we all have (as students, as parents, whatever roles we are playing at the time…I digress, haha…)

So here goes: I feel like I am Bill Murray when a parent tries to explain to me that she is both worried about -- excited for -- exasperated by her teenage son, who is coming down the home stretch of his oh-so-critical junior year. He is doing well, but she isn’t quite sure that he understands how important the next piece of the puzzle is—the dreaded college application process. She wants him to start early, to talk to other people about the process, to practice writing college essays—basically to walk into it with his eyes open, fully understanding the decisions he will be making. (And it is here that I wonder, can anyone?   I made my college decision based upon where my boyfriend already was…omg…kids don’t try this at home…). Her son, on the other hand, is a bit reluctant to discuss the topic (for many reasons, I imagine, certainly too many to describe here…). He isn’t mean or rude. He is a great kid. He is just young—and he doesn’t particularly want to discuss things with his mom. She takes a step forward; he takes a step back.

The dance of parenthood. Of adolescence. Each of them, I’m sure, meaning well, but not quite meeting in the middle of this particular dance floor.

Back to Groundhog Day. While this conversation with this mom reminded me of so many other conversations, it was also like having a conversation with my younger self, for there was a time when I was steeped in all of those worries. My daughters are all past high school now, but I won’t soon forget all of those feelings—being worried, yet so excited. Trying to share in the process with them, yet only being allowed to do so up to a certain point (and how hard it is to admit that there is a real moment in parenthood, when you realize it is your child—not you—who is driving the bus). Each of my daughters wanted independence. Each of them, toward the end of high school, at a different stage of readiness, each so very different, but certain touch points were the same…

Back to the mom (yikes, this is beginning to sound rather like a journal entry, where I wander in nine different directions at one time, perhaps I should let my students grade MY blog, haha…). In between the lines of our conversation was something neither of us said, the fact that she was also wondering if she was ready, wondering about the changes his absence would make in her life. She knows that her life will shift and change, but she isn’t quite sure yet how this will feel. And, again, I felt like I was talking to my younger self. Because I sure did wonder. And it (like most things you know are coming) has been better—and worse—than I had expected.

Digression number twelve. In my AP Lit class this year we read Ordinary People, and there is a scene in the book (and even in the movie, although the movie doesn’t really follow the novel all that well) where the dad is talking to one of his colleagues about his son, who is also in his junior year of high school. To make a long story short, the dad in the book has far more to be worried about in terms of his son than most parents, but the worry is the same—most parents want to be there, want to be closer to their adolescents, to be helpful (please, they think, let me be helpful! Why doesn’t he recognize that I have learned a life lesson or two?). Parents know they can’t live their kids’ lives for them, but they want to lend a bit of their life experience to their children (my God, they wonder, she used to need me!) The kids (of course) want to begin to make their own way.

The dance of parenthood. A step forward, a step back. Strangely, in Ordinary People the dad’s colleague tells him not to worry—and not simply because everything will turn out alright—but that such worry is a waste of time, because the teenager in question will be “gone,” off on his own in the blink of an eye.

What? Is that true? Are our worries for our children wasted? That is not at all what I wanted to say to this mom, to any mom.

I want to tell her that he is smart, that he is ready. And I do. I do so want to be consoling, not just to ease her worry and to make her go away, but because I know it is true. What I don’t say, however, is that I truly do believe he will be more than fine—because there is no way to say this, really, without sounding condescending, like I am trying to minimize her concerns. But I want to communicate this somehow. Because I believe it.

So, since everything (everything!) reminds me of a movie, I downshift into the movie Parenthood, where a mom is telling her son, “These feelings… You are right to have all these feelings.”   Because it all sounds so familiar. Each year, students and their parents come in and out with the tide.

The Joy of Non-Fiction: Best (Most Influential) Pick

In January of 2007 I read a New York Times article entitled “Happiness 101” that described a George Mason University class called The Science of Well-Being, “essentially a class in how to make yourself happier” (7 Jan. 2007). The class studied gratitude, hope, and optimism, and there was an interesting distinction made between feeling good and doing good. Students were assigned to perform one act of each, to do something they enjoyed doing and to do something that would provide something positive for someone else.  Interestingly students later decided that doing good--doing something for someone else--actually resulted in a longer lasting feeling of happiness. The focus wasn’t only about personal happiness, but “embracing civic engagement … connectedness, hope and charity.” Discussing the article with my students raised even more questions: Can happiness be studied? What role does environment play in our happiness, like family and /friends? I later found that the most popular course at Harvard is a class just like the one the original article described, and its professor, Dr. Tal Ben-Shahar, wrote this book, Happier, in 2007 to describe his course. After reading the book I’ve raised many of his points in my own classes, and I have used them to help students analyze the literature we read. Some ideas have been future-focused, ideas about goal setting (and postponement of gratification); others are more recursive, exploring feelings of connectedness with others, from students’ families to their communities to the world.
Why select this book as the most influential work of non-fiction? Well, I can’t think of a topic more important than the study of happiness. In terms of my students’ opinions, while statistics may vary in terms of high school dropout rates, no matter what sources you read they are high, and anyone involved in education knows that adolescent depression is an issue (Ben-Shahar writes that “rates of depression are ten times higher today than they were in the 1960s, and the average age for the onset of depression is 14½ compared to 29½ in 1960,” Ben-Shahar cites, on page ix). Other serious issues, like self-esteem, as well as health concerns like anorexia and obesity, are undoubtedly tied to levels of personal happiness. And, as reported quite consistently in our media, these issues are present in every strata of our society. (The cover story for Newsweek Magazine this February discusses antidepressants, calling them “the nation’s most popular pills,”  for example, 8 Feb. 2010). If, as parents and as educators, we are creating lifelong learners, a focus on the theme of happiness is important; it is also important for me to remember that I am not merely a teacher of literature—I am a teacher of young people—and my teaching must encompass the whole child. A huge challenge, most definitely…

What have I learned from this text? Many, many things—I’ve worked through many of Ben-Shahar’s exercises myself. And I know they would be quite informative for others. Our overly-hectic, twenty-first century lives sometimes deplete our feelings of happiness, and many people feel the need to simplify their lives. While the expectation of constant happiness is unrealistic, increasing our level of happiness is possible—it can be gained by greater knowledge, through education in its broadest sense, through examining ourselves, our literature, and our world.

My Literary Travels

I heart books.

While I’d be hard-pressed to select my favorite book ever, these are a few of my top choices, books that really impacted me:

Young Travels:
• The Hobbitt, J.R.R. Tolkien. Travel Middle Earth with Bilbo and the gang. Yes, this is the original, the book that started it all. All kids should read this timeless book of friendship and personal trial (I've even read it a number of times since I was a kid....soooooo good—my first car even had a “Bilbo Baggins for President” bumper sticker, haha).
• Gone With The Wind, Margaret Mitchell. Ah, Miss Scarlett, I love you so! This is the first book I ever really fell in love with in middle school (such a long, long time ago--but the memory is still strong). Read me! Yeah, the movie is good, but the book is infinitely better (“I’ll think about that tomorrow!”... omg…)
• To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee. Timeless. Scout and Jem learn invaluable lessons from their dad, a role model if I ever saw one. (One of my literature professors used to say that “Literature changes lives,” and, although that may sound a bit corny, it is true. When I read this book as a kid, for example, it made me want my kids to call me by my first name). Such a classic, not to be missed. (Go Calpernia!)
• East of Eden, John Steinbeck. The very, very best of Steinbeck. What a personality study (they don’t make scarier characters than Cathy Ames….yikes! And poor Adam, for falling in love with her…why does love make us so blind?). This was the first book that, when I finished the last page, I turned immediately to page one to start it all over.  It is awesome...and insightful each time.

More Recent Choices (in no particular order):
• The Stand, Stephen King. Classic King. While I’ve read everything he’s written, this is my top choice—good vs. evil—an entertaining and thought-provoking story by an amazing storyteller. Yeah, yeah, I know that King isn’t considered great literature by the powers-that-be(or, as the AP Lit Exam would phrase it, "a text of literary merit), but I can’t think of many other writers whose work I fall into. I can sit for hours reading his stories--and everything else just falls away; time just goes by. (I also loved It, The Body, Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, though; King makes the characters so real, so believable. “Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” Someday I will marry Andy Dufresne. I will.)
• A Prayer For Own Meany, John Irving. Ah, the baseball. And Baby Jesus. And Hester the molester. And Vietnam. And the penguins. And how poor Owen outgrows his parents. I could go on, but I will stop here… (Loved The World According to Garp, too, but little Owen wins…)
• The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon. Haddon hits the ball out of the park here--Christopher Boone is a hero for a new generation. Part mystery, part family drama, and crazy-funny with dramatic irony. Yet my heart goes out to Chris--and his parents. This book opens up a new world, to show the difficulties of raising a child with special needs in an often less-than-friendly world. Excellent!
• Case Histories, Kate Atkinson. You will not soon forget Jackson Brodie--or the strange cases detailed in this book. Bottom line? When the front cover cites a Stephen King quote directing you to read this book, DO IT. I was not at all sorry--I could not put it down.
• Straight Man, Richard Russo. Hands-down the funniest book I have ever read. EVER. Since I work in a high school English department (and I have worked at a university English department), I fell in love with this cast of academic oddball characters. Couldn't put it down--wanted it to last far longer! LOVE!!! (Also notable: Russo’s other works: Nobody’s Fool and Empire Falls—good stuff.)
• In the Lake of the Woods, Tim O’Brien. Haunting--and unforgettable. Love O'Brien's The Things They Carried--and, if possible, I love this even more. What DID happen in that cabin that night? What is truth? Who is Sorcerer? Did war change him, or did it encourage him to evolve into the man he was meant to be? Love the random quotes throughout the text, the blend of fact and fiction; love the characters and their descriptions; love the uncertainty.  Love, love, love. (Warning: NOT for the feint-hearted; I gave this book as a gift, and my friend found it rather disturbing.)
• A Million Little Pieces, James Frey. I know that this book caused a lot of hoopla (is it fiction? Is it non-fiction?), but I don’t care about the answer to those questions—because the truth is this book is awesome. I don’t care whether it is Frey’s experience or not. I don’t care if every word is a lie. It is unforgettable.
• I Know This Much is True, Wally Lamb. I read this book years ago--yet it is still one of my top-ten reads--it is gripping from the first page. It is the story of adult male twins (twins being one of my favorite topics, surprise, surprise). Pick it up, but beware. It is tough to put down...
• The Book of Joe, Jonathan Tropper. I’ve given this book as a gift to three very different reader friends (and they each loved it--high praise!). So much more than a-guy-returns-to-his-hometown story. It is described as "by turns howling funny, fiercely intelligent, and achingly poignant"--and it IS each of these--and more. Read this book! I'd love to know what you think after you do (tell me whether you really believe in second chances)....
• How to Talk to a Widower, Jonathan Tropper. Tropper has done it again--I so enjoyed The Book of Joe and Everything Changes, and this has the same characterization (smart AND funny) and introspection--I want to read slowly so it isn't over too quickly! Love it! (Bottom line?  Pick up anything by Tropper...)
• The Post Birthday World, Lionel Shriver. Just finished this one--and I loved it. It makes me question whether our choices really matter, or whether there is an end-game all prepared....hmmmm…. Like We Really Need to Talk About Kevin in the way that the author's use of language illustrates her intelligence (and often brings a wry smile), yet this tale-with-two-story-threads is completely different. If you read it, do let me know what you think…

Truth be told, there are two writers whose books I buy in hardcover, as soon as they come out (as a teacher, I can’t always afford to buy every book I want, as soon as it is published, nor do I have the time to read every book I’d like to read, but that is my idea of heaven, all the time in the world to read all the books I want, sitting in a big, comfy chair, next to a blazing fireplace…)—and those two are Jonathan Tropper and Stephen King. For them, everything else in the world stops.

“Half my life's in books' written pages,
Live and learn from fools and from sages
You know it's true,
All the things
Come back to you.”
--Aerosmith, “Dream On”