Sasha just loves going to the vet:
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Yikes! I see that it’s been almost three months since my last post. There’s no particular reason for this — I just got overtaken by events. So… welcome back, and I’ll try to resume regular blogging right now. I have lots of partially written entries that I will update and post, plus a bunch of new stuff to say. More tomorrow!
Vincent likes the riverboat too:
Vincent is shy and doesn’t like having his picture taken:
Meeting across the River has a truly unusual and creative premise for a collection of 20 short stories. Its subtitle, Stories Inspired by the Haunting Bruce Springsteen Song, reveals the premise: every story (each by a different author) was inspired in its own way by Springsteen’s “Meeting across the River.” Editors Jessica Kaye and Richard J. Brewer have selected a wide variety of tales, ranging from serious and intense to light and humorous. Because the song itself is quite ambiguous, the authors have been free to interpret it in many different ways, though all have stuck to the story line and the names of the characters, especially Eddie and Cherry. For instance, consider this stanza:
We don’t know how the speaker is expecting to get his two grand — drugs? gambling? weapons deal? — but we definitely get a sense of what he is like and what Cherry is like, all from four short lines. We don’t even know where this is all taking place, although the line “Gotta make it through the tunnel” and the fact that Springsteen is from Jersey certainly suggests that he’s talking about the Lincoln or Holland Tunnel and therefore the deal is in New York City. (Of course I might be biased, since I’m from Jersey myself.) Some of the authors follow up on this idea, some don’t. For instance, here is the opening of Eddie Muller’s contribution:
No doubt about the setting in that story, is there? Perhaps the most creative setting is found in Eric Garcia’s story: a Monopoly board! Well, actually it’s the fictionalized Atlantic City featured in Monopoly, but Garcia’s characters are, of course, the Parker brothers, and we get paragraphs like this one:
Other stories in the collection were written by William Kent Krueger, Pam Houston, C.J. Box, Gregg Hurwitz, Michael John Richardson, and a host of other authors. The stories range in length from six pages to 18, but the average is only ten, so the book is easily digested in bite-sized chunks. In order to avoid the easy trap of confusing one story with another — given the similarities of names and themes — I listened to them one or two at a time, spreading it over a period of many months. But of course it wouldn’t be hard to go through all 20 stories, one after another. Try them out in whichever manner you prefer, and be sure to listen to the song at several points along the way.
Rosie is cold:
William and Sasha in their riverboat:
Note the combo of decorations in front of this house on Furnace Brook Parkway in Quincy:
This is William of Orange, who seems to think that a plastic bucket in an old bathtub is a perfectly reasonable place in which to sit:
A major topic of high-school math is the study of transformations. My colleague, Jim McLaughlin, wants you to know that his desk has somehow undergone a miraculous transformation:
One of my students asked me what Friday Cat Blogging is all about. You can read the answer here or here or especially here. In other news, since today is Friday the 13th, we had to have a pop quiz in Honors Geometry. For only the second time in the past decade a Weston student managed to lose his quiz while taking it. Anyway, back to Friday cat blogging: here is today’s picture, showing Timothy in one of his favorite spots: sitting atop Fred, the Footrest:
Geometry was never their strong point. It’s hard to get them to understand what “parallel” means:
This year’s Halloween was the best and the worst. Let’s save the best for last. So the first question is, “How many trick-or-treaters did we get this year?” For perspective, we need to know that Barbara and I just happened to go out for dinner on Halloween in both 2008 and 2007, so we weren’t at home for visitors (cough, cough). But in 2006 we got over 200 trick-or-treaters. So we loaded up on lots of candy for this year, just in case. End result? 37. What a disappointment. I guess I’ll have to dream up lots of class activities for which candy will be a suitable prize. Now onto the plus side. At Weston High School this year’s Halloween Assembly was definitely the best ever — at least for my 13 years there. The level of enthusiasm was extremely high, as was the participation rate. Last year, for example, I don’t think more than 10% of the freshmen dressed up, but it seemed that about 50% of this year’s freshmen were in costume. There was similarly high participation among the sophomores, juniors, and seniors, as well as the faculty. Here are some pictures.
As you see, my colleague, Jim McLaughin, dressed as Rock — part of the Rock, Paper, Scissors trio, of course:
But the highlights of the assembly were three groups of students. One pair came as two bunches of grapes, one as the Village People, and one as Kiss. While the Village People stole the show with their rousing performance of YMCA, the grand prize went to Kiss.
This is Rosalita, commonly known as Rosie but sometimes called the Curmudge-o-cat:
I was recently asked whether a Boston voter should always vote for the full allotment of four at-large City Council candidates, or whether bullet voting made sense. I unhelpfully replied, “It depends.” It occurred to me that I had already dealt with this issue four years ago. So read that link if you want to read the mathematical arguments (actually, not too much math!) for or against bullet voting, depending on the situation.
Never in my life did I think that I would join a gym. And I especially never thought that I would enjoy being a member of a gym. But all that changed in July when I joined Dedham Health & Athletic Complex. You can tell from the name alone that this is no ordinary gym. The problem, you see, was that I have always been unwilling to be surrounded by young people who are already in great shape; I would only feel self-conscious and embarrassed. (Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother at all in the context of teaching, but it definitely does in the context of a gym.) Dedham Health is different. Although there is indeed a sprinkling of young people in great shape, the majority of members are older and initially out of shape. Just as important is the medical emphasis: through its affiliations with the Joslin Diabetes Center, New England Baptist Hospital, and Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital, Dedham Health has a medical emphasis that emphasizes lifestyle changes to combat obesity, high blood sugar, high blood pressure, and/or high cholesterol. They have a nurse on duty much of the time — a nurse with a speciality in those areas and their relationship with exercise and nutrition. They are exceptionally well-staffed with professional exercise physiologists (who knew that there even was such a profession?); not only are they experts, but every one of them is also a low-key, caring, supportive personal assistant. Although their regular membership is a bit pricey, they offer an introductory 60-day plan for $60.00 (with a doctor’s prescription). Both the 60/60 plan and the regular membership include a personalized fitness regimen that ranges from the big picture to the small. As you can tell, I am surprisingly enthusiastic about this place!
Go see the musical version of Spring Awakening at the Colonial Theater if you’re a parent or a teacher or a teen, or if you’ve ever been one of those. This disturbing German play from 1891 is not exactly typical raw material for a musical, but it survives the transition admirably. As you probably know by now, Frank Wedekind’s original play was banned because of its themes and how they are presented. Sexuality, sex between young teens, teen suicide, abortion, unethical teaching and parenting, radical politics — even one of these would get a worked banned in late Victorian times, whether in England, America, or Germany — and the combination of all of them was surely so far over the top that there wouldn’t have been any doubt. Today, of course, these topics aren’t shocking. I suppose that’s why the producers made no attempt to translate the play to modern times. The audience is always conscious of the time and the place, despite the presence of rock music — which somehow doesn’t seem out of place. One oddity is that they’ve cast a single actor to play all of the adult male roles, and another to play all of the adult female roles. I assume that this is trying to convey a message — something to the effect that the adults are all interchangeable, and only the kids have individual personalities. Fortunately it’s not as confusing as it might be, since the contexts are clear and the characters are often addressed by name. Some bits of trivia: How often do you hear quadratic equations and lines from Vergil’s Aeneid mentioned in a musical? They probably didn’t register on most of the audience, but the math references were appropriate and the Latin class convincing (though terrifying). Also, I can’t find anyone else who was aware of this play in the ’60s, but I first became acquainted with it in 1966, when my roommate was reading it (in the original) for a college freshman German course. So I knew it as Frühlingserwachen, and it clearly made an impression on my impressionable roommate, who had a lot of related issues. For similar reasons, I thoroughly recommend it to my high-school students, most especially if they can later have an in-depth discussion with their parents and/or teachers. I was glad to hear that a couple of dozen Weston students will be going to see it next week on a field trip.
I can’t keep up with Andrew Sullivan, since he posts about 42 entries a day. (I’m not exaggerating!) But I just read the following email from one of his readers and I have to pass it on:
Once a teacher, always a teacher, so…in case you didn’t catch the references, here are some pointers.
Kathryn Cramer writes about the new book, Free-Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedon We Had Without Going Nuts with Worry, by Leonore Skenazy. I’ve reserved a copy through the Minuteman Library Network; maybe I’ll write a review in this blog after I’ve read it. But at least I can respond to Cramer’s observations even before reading the book:
These remarks resonated with me for several reasons, not the least of which was that I rode the Newark subway by myself when I was ten (OK, not New York, and not when I was nine, but close enough). I don’t remember how old I was when I first went into New York by myself, but it certainly was before I was a teenager. I felt trusted, not abandoned. I felt safe. Cramer asks, “Why the de-liberation of both mother and child?”
I don’t know. Is Cramer being too cynical? Or just realistic? Certainly her observations are on the mark. As a teacher since 1969, I unquestionably notice that parents hover around their kids much more than they used to. And we’re not just talking about pre-teens: even colleges suffer from the attention of helicopter parents. Teachers and parents are doing kids a disservice by curtailing their freedoms so much.
The thorny question of grading took a new twist yesterday afternoon. I’ve discussed grading before — in my posts of 11/30/2005 and 12/20/2007 — and I’m not going to rehash those arguments. Sometimes I’m wrong, but on these issues I’m still right. Here was the new twist: Yesterday I was returning a test that had been given to six sections of Algebra II, taught by three different teachers. We had agreed on the questions, we had agreed on the number of points per question, and we had even agreed on a detailed rubric for grading (1 point for constructing the right matrix, 1 point for indicating a product, 1 point for calculating the product correctly, etc.). But we had not yet agreed on a scale, since there was no way we could feel confident about that until we had looked at some sample papers and had agreed on what constituted competent work. (As indicated earlier, we create a scale not by percentages and definitely not by a curve, but by examining student work and converting the lowest competent work into a low B and so forth.) Anyway, I explained to the class that Ms. P was out today and therefore I could give them only their raw scores. One student asked me what the scale was likely to be. “I don’t know,” I replied. “I can’t make that decision unilaterally. I know what I think it should be, but I have to consult with Ms. P and Ms. F first.” “Can’t you give us some idea?” he pleaded. “Well, all I can say is that if you got more than 90% right, you’re unlikely to benefit much from a scale. Where could your grade go anyway? But if you got, say, somewhere in the 70s, you might possibly end up with a B. People with lower raw scores are the ones who need the benefit of a scale, especially those who ran out of time but otherwise did good work.” “You must be a Democrat,” was his astonishing reply. “Why?” I asked. “Because Republicans believe in treating everyone equally.” At that point I told the student that I didn’t want to go there and was not going to continue the conversation. I suppose some of my Weston students might really buy the idea that Republicans believe in treating everyone equally, but tell it to my Dorchester students and neighbors. In the famous words of Anatole France, “The law in its infinite majesty forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets and to steal bread.”
It’s a cliché to say so, but this was certainly a day that I’ll remember for the rest of my life! Unlike most such days (the JFK assassination, 9/11, etc.) it was historic as a joyous occasion, not a tragedy. Although I couldn’t see the inauguration as part of the millions who were there in person in Washington, I was just so glad that I could still be part of a reasonably large number of people watching on a huge screen in an auditorium: it almost gave me a sense of actually being there, a sense that I wouldn’t have had if I had been part of an audience of six watching on television. It definitely became an experience, not a passive observation. So much is being written about the inauguration today that I don’t think I’ll add any more, except to say that I kept thinking of the last two lines of one of Pete Seeger’s songs, “Talking Union”:
How appropriate for President Obama. And here we had Pete Seeger with Bruce Springsteen at the pre-inaugural concert, moving us with “This Land is Your Land,” including the two verses that are usually omitted. And the line “take it easy, but take it” was famous as the way the late Studs Terkel always closed his radio show. But Terkel sadly didn’t quite live long enough to see Obama become president. However, the musical Working, based on Terkel’s book of that name, is going to be our spring musical at Weston. Everything is deeply intertwingled, as Ted Nelson says. The inauguration was surrounded by our Weston Professional Development Day before and afterwards (thank you to the administration for letting us watch it, and more about what we learned in my next post), and we capped it off with dinner at JP Seafood. Of course I had to have the Obama maki: vinegared rice with raw tuna, pineapple, cream cheese, and scallions, all wrapped in seaweed. Quite good, but a bit strange. My theory is that the pineapple represents Hawaii, and the cream cheese represents “No Drama” Obama, and the tuna represents Obama’s serious substance, and the scallions represent… oh well, maybe I’m going out on a limb here. But the whole thing definitely represented change. The five-year-old girl had the next table was eating sushi with salmon roe, but then again this was JP.
So, why do I have a Facebook account if I don’t do anything with it? That’s an easy question. I have a Facebook account because some of my students kept pestering me to set one up. Apparently Facebook is absolutely essential to high-school life. And several other Weston teachers are on Facebook; why shouldn’t I be? So I gave in. Being mildly concerned about privacy issues as a public-school teacher, I set up some limitations: I don’t show my birthday, my political views, or my religious views; I don’t post my address or phone numbers; and I don’t check “Friends may post to my Wall.” I’ll accept friend requests from current and former students, but I won’t initiate them. These restrictions seem excessive to my students, but I’m comfortable with them. The problem is that I don’t know what to do with Facebook! I already have a blog (you’re reading it now), and I am totally comfortable with email and IM, having used both since 1978. But the whole concept of a social networking site like Facebook eludes me. One thing that students tell me is that they use it to send messages to classmates — when they’re organizing a class party, for example — and that use makes sense to me. But why do they want all of their “friends” (hundreds of them, in some cases) to read personal messages that might apply to just one person or at any rate might not be public information? Some day, perhaps, someone will give me a clear explanation of what I want to do with my Facebook account. In the meantime, there it is, and I check it every two or three days… For other opinions, see Would you track your health on Facebook.
I just discovered a cool poster-creating applet called Wordle. In their own words: Wordle is a toy for generating “word clouds” from text that you provide. The clouds give greater prominence to words that appear more frequently in the source text. You can tweak your clouds with different fonts, layouts, and color schemes. The images you create with Wordle are yours to use however you like. You can print them out, or save them to the Wordle gallery to share with your friends. You can create an image from text that you type in, or from a URL of a blog with an RSS feed. In the latter case, the applet uses all the text it finds at that URL, excluding some common English words (or whatever other language you might choose). I rather like the result I got by giving them the URL of this blog:
My major Hanukkah present from Barbara was a footstool in the shape of a genuine replica of a stuffed bear:
We named him Fred the Footrest. You have noticed that William is loyally guarding Fred in case any hunters should come near. The manufacturers (or their lawyers) are really unclear about the status of this product. It came with two tags. Note the last three words of the safety warning:
In contrast, here is the tag below the safety warning:
So…is it a toy, or isn’t it? Inquiring minds want to know.
Continuing yesterday’s theme… There has been renewed interest in Larry Summers’s supposed sexist remarks. When Senator Obama (I almost said “President Obama”) announced that he would appoint Summers to be his senior White House economic advisor, bloggers and others revived the old canard that Summers believed that women were deficient in their math and science abilities. For instance, Wendy Hansen in the LA Times wrote as follows:
The trouble, of course, is that Summers did not espouse that position. Summers did observe that there is a gender disparity among the very top mathematicians and scientists (as no one could deny) and proposed that it would be helpful to investigate why: to what extent is it genetic, and to what extent is it societal? Although this question is precisely what a scientist in a research university should ask, it created great controversy. The very act of asking the question suggested to many people that Summers was assuming that women are less capable than men in math and science. Summers had great strengths as President of Harvard, especially in his sponsorship of the Crimson Summer Academy (where I teach in the summers, so I can’t claim objectivity) and in his insistence on huge scholarships for low- and moderate-income students. Unfortunately his lack of social skills caused him to lose support in the Faculty of Arts & Sciences (though not in Harvard’s ten other schools), and he was forced to resign. Some say he has Asperger’s Syndrome; he might well, but who knows? Anyway, he has returned to being a professor of Economics at Harvard, and now he is a top advisor to Obama. I don’t believe that he’s sexist, but he clearly has some problems communicating his ideas; nevertheless, he is a distinguished economist with a lot to contribute, and he is an excellent pick for the Obama administration.
I saw this catalog the other day, and I found the cover strangely appealing:
I’m not sure which part I liked better: the “Davidson Bill of Rights” at the bottom, or the list of words at the top, terminating in “Davidson.” (It was actually a Davidson College catalog, BTW.)
One day I walk into a Russian grocery store in Watertown, and the owner starts speaking to me in Russian; I don’t understand a word. Another day I walk into a Russian grocery store in Waban, and the employee at the register starts speaking to me in Russian. Waiting to check out a book at the Boston Public Public Library, I can’t understand a question from the next patron in line, because — you guessed it — the question is in Russian. Buying new glasses at LensCrafters, I remark to the optician that I assume from his name that he must be Russian, and he says yes and that it’s clear that I am too. Do I look Russian? Apparently I do, though I never thought so. I suppose it isn’t surprising, since that’s what most of my ancestry is. But I speak only about 20 words of Russian, and the only phrase that’s really useful to me is, “Я не понимаю.” |
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