Learning-- A Brainstorming exercise

First a Weight Watchers update-- I weigh in tomorrow, and I have officially annihilated my flex points. I was given 35 and I have used 38 (give or take 5 or 6 points). Elastic waist pants, here I come!!

Zit update-- The twins by my mouth are almost gone, and the one on my cheek is healing. The one on my jawline has absolutely exploded; I think it was a pregnant zit and now it has had little baby zits all around it (they are so ugly they are cute!). I also have a new one between my eyes. I blame Weight Watchers!

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You are now cordially invited to wander into another aspect of my life. Enter at your own risk. This is an exercise, an experiment if you will. I am going to brainstorm right before your very eyes for my grad. school paper. You see, I have realized something. It is nearly effortless for me to write a blog; however, I have been working (i.e. sitting at the computer and reading others' blogs, fixing myself coffee, eating up my Weight Watchers points) on this essay for three days now, and I literally have cr_p. The question I am answering is "What is learning from a discourse perspective?" Feel free to give me constructive criticism. So here goes. . .

The more I read in education journals and books, the more I realize that education is and always has been incredibly political, incredibly controlled by context, and incredibly reticent to change (Rymes). Kumaravadivelu addresses this reticence to change when he says, "Discursive formations make it difficult for individuals to think outside of them; hence they are also exercises in power and control. A discursive change, whether social, political, or cultural, can therefore be effected only when an entire community, not just an individual, changes its ways of thinking and knowing, speaking and doing" (460). Education can be seen as one of these "discursive formations." It can be an exercise in power and control, rather than an exercise in learning and growth. What we choose to teach, are forced to teach, and choose not to teach are not neutral decisions. Each addition and subtraction has long reaching and important ramifications. Because of education is political nature, it is important that we as teachers examine what we are doing in the classroom: what we are teaching, why we are teaching it, and how and why it is being learned (or not learned) by our students (Friere). In essence, while we are teaching, we must also be actively and passionately involved in learning, not only about our students, but about the world that we inhabit and ourselves. We must do this learning because the growth that occurs in the classroom is a collaboration between student and teacher. Unless teacher and student collaborate and create a community the "discursive change" of learning can not occur.

The first collaboration students and teachers must make in the process of learning is to choose to allow learning to take place. Baker expounds upon the importance of this choice in her article "Trilingualism." In this article, she states that students must feel their home language (whether is Spanish or Black American English) is valued before they will allow themselves to learn a new language. She says, "In fact, I find that students can learn formal grammar, complex sentence structure, scientific jargon, and many other aspects of the various forms of language, quite fast once they discover that they can have control over the choices they make: to learn, or not learn, the languages associated with cultures in which they may decide to participate" (52). Kumaravadivelu also speaks about the importance of having control over learning choices in his article "Critical Classroom Discourse Analysis." He, however, talks about a different type of learning that occurs when a students home language and culture is not valued. In this context, student s learn to subvert the system.

O.K.-- I have my direction now-- I'll let you know how it goes-- I think I'll put the Friere quote in the first paragraph.

Crankiness

I talked to my mom today on the phone. She immediately asked, "Have you been crying?" I hadn't been crying, but somehow using her super-sensitive mom intuitive rays, she discerned in three seconds flat that not all was well. When she called, I had reached optimum cranky levels, and I did not want to talk. In fact, I wanted to curl up in a little ball and think about all of the things that are wrong with the world and all the things I have to do, while, of course, solving none of the problems and doing none of the work. Where does crankiness come from? Sometimes I feel like it descends upon me like a vicious fog. I hope it goes away tomorrow. I recommend everyone staying out of my way just in case, though.

A Milestone, or at least a rest stop

I am officially an adult woman. I have passed over the edge of the cliff of young adulthood into the valley of adulthood without the "young" in front of it.

I, gasp, joined Weight Watchers yesterday. Yes, yes, I realize that Weight Watchers is cliche. I should be doing something cool like South Beach or even the almost passe Atkins diet, but quite frankly, I need sugar. I tried Atkins for a week, and since I am a lady and do not discuss potty issues in mixed company, I can not tell you the horror that Atkins wreaked on my digestive system (although I almost just did). South Beach lasted a little longer (two weeks, I think), but I was nearly dying for a Coke, and it takes too long to make the food on the diet. Plus, both of these diets are expensive. Teachers have to eat pasta, rice, and potatoes--they are cheap!!

So, I paid my dues, stepped on the scale, and took the weight loss challenge.

My first real challenge is tomorrow--the dreaded teacher workday. Can I avoid the Krispy Kreme doughnuts that will be awaiting me, beckoning me with their sugary, fattening goodness? When the teachers all go out for Mexican food, will I be able to turn away the chips and cheese and the cool, crisp Coke?

We'll see. I think I am dedicated. Of course, on my way home from grad. school tonight, I stopped at Zaxby's and got a Coke (not diet) and a Big Zac Snak--but that wasn't that bad, was it? And really, shouldn't I get a treat since I worked all day, drove one hour in horrendous traffic, struggled to find a parking place in a somewhat rape-free zone at UGA, and then sat through a two hour long class? And the chocolate chip cookies (and Girl Scout cookies) yesterday, I NEEDED them!

I'll let you know how it turns out. Maybe you will be able to tell by my steadily decreasing breadth. Maybe I should have just spent my $65 on pants with elastic waist bands.

An Ode to Matt Elliott

O.K., O.K., I'll do another blog entry, and in this one bubble baths will not be mentioned, I promise. (Except for the one time I just now mentioned them; just that once, though, I promise). Matt Elliott has threatened to take my link off his blog if I do not write, so here I am, writing out of fear that a man who apparently has found a way to make blogging an occupation will take my name off his blog links. I do not know why I possess this fear; is it leftover from junior high? If I am not on his list, I am not cool? Probably. I have many leftovers from junior high. I guess that is why I have chosen to teach there. So here goes. . .

My Leftovers from Junior High:

1. A fear of the dining hall. One day a few years ago some smart teacher (probably me) had the idea that we should eat with our students one day in the cafeteria. I remember that I initially thought it was a grand idea; I generally adore talking to my students in more relaxed settings. However, when I entered the cafeteria, my stomach lurched, my palms started to sweat, and a bitter taste entered my mouth. Who would I sit with? Would anyone ask me to sit with them? What if I sat down and no one talked to me? Or worse, what if I sat down and they looked at me with disgust? I remember I wandered around for a awhile, and then finally sat at the teacher table. I just could not bring myself to do it. I don't know how I did it in junior high, and I don't know how the kids do it today. Too much pressure!

2. Acne. Today I have five zits (that I know of) on my face. I have a partnership (mine usually come in twos) on the left side of my mouth, one under my lip, one on my cheek, and one on my jawline. I had horrendous acne in junior high. My mother promised me I would grow out of it. Apparently not. I no longer use Retin-A (which never really worked any way; it just makes your skin red, peely, and greasy-- I preferred the acne) or tetracycline, and I am able to control it most of the time with regular face masks (in the you-know-what) and Pro-Activ (love that stuff and highly recommend it; plus Jessica Simpson uses it!). But sometimes, my skin just erupts. A few years ago I was even blessed with an enormous one on the tip of my nose for the first day of school. If you look closely (please don't), I still have a tiny scar from that one.

3. Occasional weird clothing choices. In junior high it was the sweater from K-mart with the penguins prancing across the front (at least my friend Heather found it hilarious), the entire orange outfit, the paisley jeans, and countless pairs of stirrup pants (coupled with very large sweaters, of course). Now it is the black and white print (kind of reminiscent of a cow) capri pants that hugged my curves a little too tightly (I wore those on the nose zit day--my goodness!), the cherry print capris (I should not be left alone in T.J. Maxx), the black pencil thin skirt I bought with a girdle (yes, a girdle) and a promise to myself that I would lose weight soon, and some sweaters with things sewn into them (not all of them that I've worn were purchased by my mother-in-law). I remember being in the mall one day when I was wearing a particularly loud sweater, a black skirt, and boots and thinking--Oh my goodness, I have become a middle-aged elementary school teacher (not that there is anything wrong with middle-aged elementary school teachers; my mother is one and most of the women I admire most in the world are middle-aged elementary school teachers. I just don't want to look like one yet.).

4. A love of Dorritos and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. This was my lunch during junior high. We had a student center (not to be confused with the Student Family Life Center; it was an old classroom with a microwave and refrigerator that the student council ran) that I frequented during my junior high years. My mother would give me money for food and since I was incredibly responsible and concerned with nutrition, I would purchase a bag of Dorritos and a super-size Reese's Peanut Butter Cup for lunch every day. And sometimes I would get a Slush Puppy. Now, I can't have this for lunch daily. Not only would it probably send me into some kind of sugar shock, but I would probably weigh over 200 lbs. Still, though, there is nothing that gives me more joy than chips and chocolate (in moderation, of course).

5. The feeling that my thighs are enormous. In junior high, I was as tall as I am now (5'7 ish)
and between 100 and 115 lbs. I was no where near fat; however, I remember staring at myself and comparing myself to others and feeling morbidly obese. It did not change my eating habits (see above), but it affected most of my thoughts during the day. Now, I am much larger than I was then (I wont tell you how many lbs.), and I don't dwell on my weight or looks as much as I did then (except on six zit days), but I still look at my thighs in horror, sheer horror. I have learned, therefore, to look at my thighs rarely if ever. It is working for me.

6. A love of young adult literature. When I was in junior high, I did not call it "young adult literature," but I adored reading these books from the time I read some book about loonies (or goonies?) on a camping trip (it had kissing in it!) to the time I was forced to read classics like the fabulous Grapes of Wrath. S.E. Hinton, the author of The Outsiders, was my favorite. I still adore them and reading them takes up most of the reading time left over from grad. school. Now I like Mildred Taylor, Walter Dean Myers, Jacqueline Woodson, Lois Lowry, Lois Duncan, and the list goes on. There is some really great stuff happening in the young adult genre. At times, I think it is more exciting than what is happening with adult lit. Most of the time, I think it is more exciting.

I like to think I am more mature than I was in junior high, that I am more self-actualized, that I feel better about myself, and most of the time I think I am more mature, self-actualized, and self-assured. The junior high days, though, occasionally creep back in. I look around and I wonder what people are thinking about me, how I fit in, if I am incredibly weird, will people like me, do people like me, etc. My mother promises me that it gets better when you turn 40. But, remember what she said about the acne? I'm not holding my breath.