What is completely unrealistic about this movie:
1) The way she dresses. No urban public school teacher would wear heels and suits and pearls.
2) How completely clueless she is about the kids and the job on the first day of school.
3) On the first day of school, it looks as if she's never been inside her classroom.
4) Her unwavering energy and optimism. Never once in the whole movie does she feel defeated or depressed or wanting to throw in the towel.
5)Taking on two other jobs at night and on the weekends. That is completely impossible. This job sucks the life out of you!
6) It doesn't show her other 3 classes, with her other 120 students.
The following are sucky, but could possibly be true. Shows how much times have changed in 10 years.
1) Chalk boards, and not a single computer in the classroom.
2) $27,000 seems too low, even in 1997.
3) She doesn't stand at the door greeting the students on the first day of school, and she calls off their names in a roll call at the beginning of class.
4) The department head who didn't want her to use the books in the storage room.
How this movie positively influenced me. It reminded me that to succeed in the classroom, urban public school teachers must:
1) Get to know the students. Playing a get-to-know-you game, like the Line. Reading their journals. Hanging out in their neighborhoods.
2) Show they care by making personal sacrifices, like buying them stuff, including food and treats and prizes and rewards.
3) Spend time with them outside of class. After school, at lunch, weekends. FIELD TRIPS!!!!!
4) Tailor the curriculum to their lives. Screw the tests!!!!
I knew all these things. But it's always good to be reminded.
February 21, 2010
February 15, 2010
How I Hate Football
Football is brutish. This is from someone who trained Brazilian jiu-jitsu.
I went to high school in Texas. Every Monday, there would be at least two guys with a new set of crutches. My debate partner got slammed. When he got out of the hospital, he had metal up his right leg and was banned from ever playing football again. My cousin still deals with debilitating back pain.
But when I was in high school, I did go to Friday night football games. Not that I was into football. The first couple times I went, it was to see my older cousins playing. Then, my classmates. Not really my friends. Because my friends were all nerds and didn't play football. I had friends in the band. Actually, my friends wouldn't go to football games. I was kind of strange in that sense. Having grown up in the same neighborhood my entire life, I actually did know some people out of my high school nerd clique, like friends from Girl Scouts in elementary school or my junior high volleyball and track mates. So I would find someone to hang with. And there was something fun about being outside in the fall air. I liked that it was multi-generational: parents, adults. I would make the rounds, shmoozing it up with people of all ages and cliques.
But I hated football. It was an evil--that should be banned. When one guy was down and the trainers ran out to the field, my friend who had just moved from a small town in East Texas got pissed, "Those cheerleaders should be down on their knees praying." We were slightly more progressive (in terms of separating church and state) in Katy.
It was always the same routine. I'd stand next to someone, sometimes a boy I liked, and I would ask how the game works, kind of playing dumb, but not really "playing" because I always had the same conversation, and I never really paid attention enough to learn how the game worked. Something about 4 downs.
I learned a little better when I played Powder Puff my junior year. It was a source of amusement in Texas to watch girls play football. Every year, the Juniors played the Seniors. The football players of our respective classes coached us. Practices started about a month before the game. These same guys would dress as cheerleaders for the game, and come up with funny cheers. It was all gender-bender.
Yeah, I was offended as a woman, that we were the "butt" of the joke. But I wasn't as offended as a real football game. There were no major injuries during our games. And I personally didn't feel like I was risking injury. I was a running back. I never really had to learn the game either, just run and try to catch the ball and take it to the endzone without getting tackled or throw it to a team mate before getting tackled. That's all I needed to know.
So the question comes down to: Is brutality a fundamental aspect of the game? Or could protections, regulations, and some rule changing make it more . . . responsible?"
According to a recent article in The New Yorker "Offensive Play" by Malcolm Gladwell, it is inherent to the game. Players experience the equivalent of multiple head-on auto collisions every practice. They experience depression and loss of motor control as a result of their head injuries later in their lives.
"In 1905, President Theodore Roosevelt called an emergency summit at the White House, alarmed, as the historian John Sayle Watterson writes, “that the brutality of the prize ring had invaded college football and might end up destroying it.” Columbia University dropped the sport entirely. A professor at the University of Chicago called it a “boy-killing, man-mutilating, money-making, education-prostituting, gladiatorial sport.” In December of 1905, the presidents of twelve prominent colleges met in New York and came within one vote of abolishing the game. But the main objection at the time was to a style of play—densely and dangerously packed offensive strategies—that, it turns out, could be largely corrected with rule changes, like the legalization of the forward pass and the doubling of the first-down distance from five yards to ten. Today, when we consider subtler and more insidious forms of injury, it’s far from clear whether the problem is the style of play or the play itself."
Should there be legislation? Regulation? Should the government step in? Most people and any libertarian would claim that every citizen should be able to spend her money and risk her life how she pleases, as long as she doesn't harm anyone else. The free market should be able to do its thing. But the free market must be regulated--to stop rich people from stealing from poor people--either through exploitation, i.e. not paying a living wage, or practicing fraud, i.e. Wall Street.
Is stealing the health and life from grown men who choose to play football a form of exploitation or fraud? That is the question.
I went to high school in Texas. Every Monday, there would be at least two guys with a new set of crutches. My debate partner got slammed. When he got out of the hospital, he had metal up his right leg and was banned from ever playing football again. My cousin still deals with debilitating back pain.
But when I was in high school, I did go to Friday night football games. Not that I was into football. The first couple times I went, it was to see my older cousins playing. Then, my classmates. Not really my friends. Because my friends were all nerds and didn't play football. I had friends in the band. Actually, my friends wouldn't go to football games. I was kind of strange in that sense. Having grown up in the same neighborhood my entire life, I actually did know some people out of my high school nerd clique, like friends from Girl Scouts in elementary school or my junior high volleyball and track mates. So I would find someone to hang with. And there was something fun about being outside in the fall air. I liked that it was multi-generational: parents, adults. I would make the rounds, shmoozing it up with people of all ages and cliques.
But I hated football. It was an evil--that should be banned. When one guy was down and the trainers ran out to the field, my friend who had just moved from a small town in East Texas got pissed, "Those cheerleaders should be down on their knees praying." We were slightly more progressive (in terms of separating church and state) in Katy.
It was always the same routine. I'd stand next to someone, sometimes a boy I liked, and I would ask how the game works, kind of playing dumb, but not really "playing" because I always had the same conversation, and I never really paid attention enough to learn how the game worked. Something about 4 downs.
I learned a little better when I played Powder Puff my junior year. It was a source of amusement in Texas to watch girls play football. Every year, the Juniors played the Seniors. The football players of our respective classes coached us. Practices started about a month before the game. These same guys would dress as cheerleaders for the game, and come up with funny cheers. It was all gender-bender.
Yeah, I was offended as a woman, that we were the "butt" of the joke. But I wasn't as offended as a real football game. There were no major injuries during our games. And I personally didn't feel like I was risking injury. I was a running back. I never really had to learn the game either, just run and try to catch the ball and take it to the endzone without getting tackled or throw it to a team mate before getting tackled. That's all I needed to know.
So the question comes down to: Is brutality a fundamental aspect of the game? Or could protections, regulations, and some rule changing make it more . . . responsible?"
According to a recent article in The New Yorker "Offensive Play" by Malcolm Gladwell, it is inherent to the game. Players experience the equivalent of multiple head-on auto collisions every practice. They experience depression and loss of motor control as a result of their head injuries later in their lives.
"In 1905, President Theodore Roosevelt called an emergency summit at the White House, alarmed, as the historian John Sayle Watterson writes, “that the brutality of the prize ring had invaded college football and might end up destroying it.” Columbia University dropped the sport entirely. A professor at the University of Chicago called it a “boy-killing, man-mutilating, money-making, education-prostituting, gladiatorial sport.” In December of 1905, the presidents of twelve prominent colleges met in New York and came within one vote of abolishing the game. But the main objection at the time was to a style of play—densely and dangerously packed offensive strategies—that, it turns out, could be largely corrected with rule changes, like the legalization of the forward pass and the doubling of the first-down distance from five yards to ten. Today, when we consider subtler and more insidious forms of injury, it’s far from clear whether the problem is the style of play or the play itself."
Should there be legislation? Regulation? Should the government step in? Most people and any libertarian would claim that every citizen should be able to spend her money and risk her life how she pleases, as long as she doesn't harm anyone else. The free market should be able to do its thing. But the free market must be regulated--to stop rich people from stealing from poor people--either through exploitation, i.e. not paying a living wage, or practicing fraud, i.e. Wall Street.
Is stealing the health and life from grown men who choose to play football a form of exploitation or fraud? That is the question.
The Lesbian Salsa Bar
I was forced to go to the edge of my comfort zone recently.
I like to pride myself on the fact that I can enter most situations, especially involving people of different cultures, skin colors, and socio-economic class backgrounds, and feel completely at ease. Working in the hood where rumors of wild teenagers running loose who could potentially slash my face to get initiated into their gang doesn't bother me. I don't fear "the other."
And yet, I was standing in the lesbian salsa bar unsure of myself. The music was good. I wanted to dance, but I was scared. . .What if one of the women saw me and asked me to dance? Then I would be false advertising. So I decided not to dance. In fact, I moved closer to the male friend who brought me there.
And so what happened? . . . Nothing. A lady came up to my blond friend and kept trying to get her to dance. And she was awful (none of the native rhythm that flows naturally from my Latina blood. . . !)
Ultimamente, no one came up to me. At the beginning, I was so concerned of a misunderstanding and maybe offending someone, and in the end it was just an experience of rejection. No Latina lesbians wanted to dance with me.
I later asked one of the women the protocol. Here it is: If someone asks you to dance, then if you feel like it, dance with her. You don't have to tell her you're straight. I mean, why are you assuming she wants anything with you anyways? And then if later, she starts to push it a little, then you can tell her you're straight. No problem.
As usual, I was making a big deal out of nothing.
I like to pride myself on the fact that I can enter most situations, especially involving people of different cultures, skin colors, and socio-economic class backgrounds, and feel completely at ease. Working in the hood where rumors of wild teenagers running loose who could potentially slash my face to get initiated into their gang doesn't bother me. I don't fear "the other."
And yet, I was standing in the lesbian salsa bar unsure of myself. The music was good. I wanted to dance, but I was scared. . .What if one of the women saw me and asked me to dance? Then I would be false advertising. So I decided not to dance. In fact, I moved closer to the male friend who brought me there.
And so what happened? . . . Nothing. A lady came up to my blond friend and kept trying to get her to dance. And she was awful (none of the native rhythm that flows naturally from my Latina blood. . . !)
Ultimamente, no one came up to me. At the beginning, I was so concerned of a misunderstanding and maybe offending someone, and in the end it was just an experience of rejection. No Latina lesbians wanted to dance with me.
I later asked one of the women the protocol. Here it is: If someone asks you to dance, then if you feel like it, dance with her. You don't have to tell her you're straight. I mean, why are you assuming she wants anything with you anyways? And then if later, she starts to push it a little, then you can tell her you're straight. No problem.
As usual, I was making a big deal out of nothing.
Lentils
1)Dump a package of lentils (any color or type) into a big pot. Sort through them looking for rocks. Don't be lazy! You should find at least one.
2) Fill the pot with water covering the lentils, mix it with your hand, and then rinse out the water. Repeat twice.
3) Fill the pot with water. Put it on the stove and set the burner on high.
4) Cut up a whole onion, some garlic, carrots, and celery. Chop them big or small, according to your preference. They will be very soft and mushy at the end.
5) Let the lentils come to a boil. Keep sloughing off the nasty foam that forms on the top.
6) When it stops making that foam, throw in the chopped vegetables.
7) After about 20 minutes, the lentils should be soft. Add white vinegar and soy sauce. Add water to keep them watery, or stop adding water if you don't want it soupy. Make it as liquidy as you like.
8) Add a lot of cumin, a good amount of curry powder, some chili powder, some black pepper, and some cinnamon. Add spicy peppers and chili. Again, the amounts are to your taste. Raisins are great, as well as dried cranberries.
9) Try it to see if the salt is right, if not, add vinegar, soy sauce, or salt.
2) Fill the pot with water covering the lentils, mix it with your hand, and then rinse out the water. Repeat twice.
3) Fill the pot with water. Put it on the stove and set the burner on high.
4) Cut up a whole onion, some garlic, carrots, and celery. Chop them big or small, according to your preference. They will be very soft and mushy at the end.
5) Let the lentils come to a boil. Keep sloughing off the nasty foam that forms on the top.
6) When it stops making that foam, throw in the chopped vegetables.
7) After about 20 minutes, the lentils should be soft. Add white vinegar and soy sauce. Add water to keep them watery, or stop adding water if you don't want it soupy. Make it as liquidy as you like.
8) Add a lot of cumin, a good amount of curry powder, some chili powder, some black pepper, and some cinnamon. Add spicy peppers and chili. Again, the amounts are to your taste. Raisins are great, as well as dried cranberries.
9) Try it to see if the salt is right, if not, add vinegar, soy sauce, or salt.
Apocalypto (Movie Review)
Some Social Studies teacher is going to show Apocalypto when she discusses the Aztec civilization. (Or maybe the Mayan. . . Mel Gibson doesn't really clarify in the movie.) It will be that scene on top of the pyramid (probably in Tenochtitlan, close to the present-day capital of Mexico City) that shows the priests sacrificing humans to appease their gods.
As we all know, the Aztecs participated in religious rituals of human sacrifice. Some of us also know that it was a great civilization that made many advances in science and astronomy. But you would never get that from the movie. The characters in this movie (the Mayan/Aztecs) are violent and savage. They paint and tattoo and pierce themselves in freakish ways, and blood spurts out of their head. Nowhere in this movie would Mexicans feel proud of their heritage.
The movie opens with the quote: "A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within."--W. Durant
So the natives are savages, and European aren't to be blamed for being marauding, imperialist thieves and murderers. The textbooks also support this position. They discuss how the Aztecs were an imperialistic power. When the Spanish arrived, it was easy for them to ally with local groups who had long held grievances towards their Aztec conquerors. Therefore, according to textbooks, W. Durant, and Mel Gibson, Europeans should be taken off the hook.
So should the teacher be fired?
I might actually show it in my class, to show how racist American cinema is and how media maintains power structures in society through reinforcing racial stereotypes. As a media literacy lesson, I might show this piece of trash.
As we all know, the Aztecs participated in religious rituals of human sacrifice. Some of us also know that it was a great civilization that made many advances in science and astronomy. But you would never get that from the movie. The characters in this movie (the Mayan/Aztecs) are violent and savage. They paint and tattoo and pierce themselves in freakish ways, and blood spurts out of their head. Nowhere in this movie would Mexicans feel proud of their heritage.
The movie opens with the quote: "A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within."--W. Durant
So the natives are savages, and European aren't to be blamed for being marauding, imperialist thieves and murderers. The textbooks also support this position. They discuss how the Aztecs were an imperialistic power. When the Spanish arrived, it was easy for them to ally with local groups who had long held grievances towards their Aztec conquerors. Therefore, according to textbooks, W. Durant, and Mel Gibson, Europeans should be taken off the hook.
So should the teacher be fired?
I might actually show it in my class, to show how racist American cinema is and how media maintains power structures in society through reinforcing racial stereotypes. As a media literacy lesson, I might show this piece of trash.
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