How have the sexual identity “scripts” discussed in chapter 9 evolved in the last 5 years? Be sure to consider the “code of silence,” and how it applies to the LBGTQ+ community.
Read this post from Dr. Laats.
I spoke with Dr. Laats this morning about how to best frame this discussion, and he gave me another analogy that is not in his posts. Referring to how different groups view and argue sex ed in schools, the debate has moved from should it be taught to how it is taught. To oversimplify the dilemma, the question becomes, “Do we teach safe sex or abstinence?”
The abstinence argument is an interesting one. Conservatives who champion a sex ed curriculum focused on abstinence might ask a progressive, “If your wife was going on a business trip, would you give her condoms and say, ‘In case you have sex, be safe'”? No, of course not–it is understood that she should not have sex. Same idea applies to our kids. We should assume, so the argument goes, that kids should not have sex; therefore, we should approach them accordingly.
With that said, and after reading the blog post linked above, to what extent, if any, should we teach sex in schools? For those of you enrolled in SEC 510, be sure to include some, if not all, of the five “issues” identified by Sears on page 188.
Think about how you learned about sex. Don’t write it here, but feel free to journal about it privately. How much of a role did your schools play in your sex education?
Then read the following two blog posts written by Dr. Laats: “Sex Sells, but Who’s Buying?” and “The Talk: Sex Ed at Us & Them.”
After journaling (or sitting there thinking) about your own experience and reading the two blog posts, respond to the following question: what role have public schools played in sex education? Don’t answer what role they should play, since that is the next blog post over. Instead, I’m interested in talking about what you think, based on your experience and what you’ve seen in schools today, the role schools play in educating students about sex.
If you’ve every wanted to teach Hemingway, or plan to in the near future, then this post may give you some ideas for teaching his works set in Africa. The original blog I used for this lesson is here, and still has all the comments from my students. If you’d like the detailed lessons that I used for teaching the essay that came after the readings, just comment here or send me an email.
The best way to use the information in this post is to have your students read it before reading the Hemingway stories mentioned. By reading through my experiences and watching the videos of my pictures, students will build background knowledge about the setting of the stories and be introduced to some of the major themes. I also pose questions throughout this blog post that elicit more critical thinking about the topics I cover, and I have my students write out their answers or respond on the blog as part of the process.
“Now, being in Africa, I was hungry for more of it, the changes of the seasons, the rains with no need to travel, the discomforts that you paid to make it real, the names of the trees, of the small animals, and all the birds, to know the language and have time to be in it and to move slowly.”
― Ernest Hemingway,
Thanks to a grant I was awarded in 2010 from Fund for Teachers, I traveled to Tanzania, Africa, to retrace a portion of Ernest Hemingway’s 1933 safari that inspired some of his greatest works: two short stories, “The Short and Happy Life of Francis Macomber” and “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” as well as his nonfiction book The Green Hills of Africa. I set off to try and figure out what the setting of Africa had to offer Hemingway, giving his works common themes such as the perseverance of the human spirit and facing our greatest fears.
But the trip gave me so much more perspective about the stories than simply the theme. As I interacted with the people of Africa and enjoyed the wildlife and landscape the country had to offer, I picked up on the subtle hints of respect Hemingway conveyed in his writing that I would have otherwise overlooked had I not experienced Tanzania myself.
Day 1 – N’Gresi
My wife and I both agree that our first day in Africa was the best day of the trip. Dominique, our driver for the week, drove us out to a small village just outside of Arusha called N’Gresi. Henry came along for the ride as our village guide. He lived in the village next to N’Gresi and knew the landscape and the people well. Henry first took us to the chief of the village who spoke with us about their agricultural production and means of education over a cup of coffee. The cost of our visit went to the building of schools, and he explained that after lunch we could donate more money to the cause.
After coffee with the chief, we set off for our 3-hour hike through the hills of N’Gresi. As you walk down the dirt road carved out of the lush green landscape, you can’t help but notice the sense of organization to the rolling green hills. While much of the beauty felt untouched, a closer look revealed plots of land dedicated to coffee trees, peas, potatoes, bananas, and other produce. The view was rugged, yet hinted at civilization without taking away from the natural beauty of Africa. The hints didn’t come in an occasional car, either. I never saw anything powered by gas, nor did I see much that needed electricity. Instead, the hints came from parked bicycles, clothes-lines, and unique differences that made up the homes which varied in style and size.
While some homes seemed more modern than others, there wasn’t a poor area and wealthy area. Huts made of mud and cow dung sat in plots of land right next to homes made of brick. The idea of social classes takes on a new perspective in villages such as this. People don’t unintentionally identify themselves as rich or poor as a way of grouping. Instead, they lived in a way that showed solidarity. They showed understanding of each other’s situations through living. No matter the size of their crops, or the amount of their livestock, the people never revealed a sense of social hierarchy. They only revealed a sense of survival that made them all equal. And not the type of survival that comes from fear of death, but the kind that comes from a need to do what’s right for your family or else life isn’t worth living.
This type of survival wasn’t felt in the landscape, but instead felt in the interaction with the people. The enthusiasm of the children was contagious, and the generosity and sincerity of the men and women was envious. At times, it was embarrassing to think of our own social hierarchy and our own definition of survival, which seems to include a price tag. Thinking of this gave me a feeling of inferiority and shame. In N’Gresi, America’s class system is meaningless, and as I learned in the following days, much of this meaninglessness is prevalent throughout Africa.
In N’Gresi, America’s class system is meaningless. Much of this meaninglessness is prevalent throughout Africa. What about the video makes this evident? Comment on how the differences in Tanzania are different from where you live.
Day 2 – Lake Maynara
Never have I seen the sun more perfect than during a sunrise at Lake Maynara. As part of the Rift Valley, which is the setting for Hemingway’s Green Hills of Africa, Lake Maynara is set between a valley of mountains on either side. We had our first game drives here, seeing giraffes, elephants, zebras, gazelles, wildebeests, and buffalo in the wild for the first time in our lives.
In Green Hills of Africa, Hemingway hunts kudu, which are mainly found in the forests higher up the valley than where we were; therefore, we didn’t get to see any that day, so I’ll let Hemingway describe them: “In the five days I saw a dozen or more kudu cows and one young bull with a string of cows. The cows were big, gray, striped-flanked antelope with ridiculously small heads, big ears, and a soft, fast-rushing gait that moved them in big-bellied panic through the trees” (Hemingway 101).
Day 3 and 4 – Serengeti
We spent 2 days on the Serengeti, and it showed us the most wildlife of all the places we visited. Here is where we saw our first lion, which is the animal responsible for Macomber’s act of cowardice in “The Short and Happy Life of Francis Macomber.” I have to admit, the first time a lion walked up to the car, I got a little worried. It doesn’t take long before you realize how vulnerable you are on safari, and if any of these animals really wanted to, all they would need to do is jump up on the car and your only option would be prayer. This gave me only a glimpse of fear that was in Hemingway when he shot his first lion and had to go into the long brush, gun drawn, to make sure it was dead. And if the lion wasn’t, then a precise, second shot was needed while 500 pounds charges with only the thought of killing you for having put it in such a position. Because Hemingway felt so strongly about writing what you know, I’m sure he empathizes with Francis Macomber.
But what really impressed me about the Serengeti was the experience of nature as an observer. There are no cages, no one to feed these animals, no one to help them if they’re injured or sick. The only governing law is the law of nature, and it is cruel at times. Here, survival is truly survival. It’s not measured by happiness, or wealth; it’s measured by staying alive. Death looms over the plains for some like the umbrella trees scattered across the landscape, while life remains the only reward. Animals on the lower rung of the chain move with an attentiveness that is restrictive. Ostriches approach water points with the reluctance of a scared child, and gazelles walk with a delicate timidity that looks ready to run at all times.
This constant fear throughout the country seemed to be something that the animals lived with, but not in a way that seemed helpless, nor did it create compassion, as if we were all so cruel for not wanting to save a gazelle from becoming a lion’s dinner. Of course there’s a tinge of sympathy for the dying animals, but if they didn’t die, then what would become of those animals that rely on their death to live?
What are your thoughts on “the survival of the fittest”? How does this concept apply to America? How does America’s concept of survival of the fittest differ from Tanzania’s? How are they alike?
Day 5 – Masai Village
The visit of the Masai Village was the most unique part of the trip. The Masai people are found throughout east Africa, and they tend to live on the most infertile of areas. They are semi-nomadic, and tend to herd goats and cattle. As you drive through northern Tanzania, you see young and old Masai tending to their herds, and almost every one of them will wave at you as you pass by. I was nervous about the visit of the village, but came away feeling ashamed that I didn’t remember what Hemingway had written about the people:
“This was the finest country I had seen but we went on, winding along through the big trees over the softly rolling grass. Then ahead and to the right we saw the high stockage of a Masai village. It was a very large village and out of it came running long-legged, brown, smooth-moving men who all seemed to be of the same age and who wore their hair in a heavy club-like queue that swung against their shoulders as they ran. They came up to the car and surrounded it, all laughing and smiling and talking. They all were tall, their teeth were white and good, and their hair was stained a red brown and arranged in a looped fringe on their foreheads. They carried spears and they were very handsome and extremely jolly, not sullen, nor contemptuous like the northern Masai, and they wanted to know what we were going to do…
…We were moving and they were running again now. The Masai stooped and put the rabbit on the ground and as he ran free they all laughed. M’Cola shook his head. We were all very impressed by these Masai….Seeing them running and so damned handsome and so happy made us all happy. I had never seen such quick disinterested friendliness, nor such fine looking people….They certainly were our friends though. They had that attitude that makes brothers, that unexpressed but instant and complete acceptance that you must be Masai wherever it is you come from. That attitude you only get from the best of the English, the best of the Hungarians, and the very best Spaniards; the thing that used to be the most clear distinctions of nobility when there was nobility. It is an ignorant attitude and the people who have it do not survive, but very few pleasanter things ever happen to you than the encountering of it.” (Hemingway 123)
The idea “that you must be Masai” is exactly how I felt when I met the Masai people. They were charming, friendly, and incredibly hospitable. Never once did I feel like I was intruding, and here I was taking pictures of them as if they were some sort of show. I don’t feel I could describe the Masai people as well as Heminway does above, but I left truly understanding what he meant when he talks about “an ignorant attitude and the people who have it do not survive.”
What is the “attitude” that Hemingway is referring to? Describe it in your own words.
Supporters of the Common Core Standards claim that the new expectations will prepare students for college, touting certain skills that are needed to succeed beyond the high school classroom. However, nothing within the Common Core seems to mimic the amount of choices that are afforded you when you attend college. Universities pride themselves as a place where you can challenge your intellect, experiment with your interests, and develop your own sense of intrinsic motivation. To achieve this, you’re allowed to pick and choose the classes you want to take, within the limitations of the major you selected. But how often do we see this type of freedom in high school curricula? How much can the Common Core really prepare students for college if they don’t offer the same approaches for students to learn and thrive?
Kelli Krieger at Union Endicott High School is trying to change that. In her 11th grade English Language and Composition Advanced Placement class, she implemented the 20% Project. The idea was made famous by Google and has since been implemented in many other contexts outside of business, including educational settings like Mrs. Krieger’s class. Simply put, 20% of the students’ time is devoted to whatever they want to do. Kelli frames this time with a theme of exploring your passions in life and finding what motivates you by posing a simple question, “What have you always wanted to do?” So every Monday during the spring semester of 2015, students in Kelli Kreiger’s classes were given the freedom to work on whatever they’ve always wanted to do.
The projects ranged from learning the piano to breaking the world record for making the largest amount of mashed potatoes. At the close of the semester, students presented their work in a Ted Talk style presentation. I attended their Ted Talk 20%, and my expectations were blown away. Kelli had briefly shared some of the students’ successes with me prior to the Ted Talk, but hearing the students talk about their projects really displayed what they learned, which was so much more than the typical high school curriculum could provide.
Among the many academic skills that were honed as the students learned the details of their projects, there were two qualities that really jumped out at me as I sat in the auditorium and listened to each student describe his or her journey: confidence and humility. The student who wanted to learn how to make sushi discussed with humor her failed attempts, and in the end shared with the audience the feeling of success when the head sushi chef at a popular restaurant where she was training said he’d serve one of her rolls. Another student who wanted to learn how to play the piano was so sure that he’d be easily stroking the keys to a Mozart piece by the end of the semester, but then realized that wasn’t going to happen. In his own words he said, “It was so much harder than I thought, and I didn’t become as good as I thought I would. But that’s okay.” He then sat down at the piano and played three separate pieces, and played them well. I also saw two students who set out to be “Youtube famous” talk candidly about the serious nature of cyberbullying they experienced, even sharing some of the most tasteless comments that ridiculed their shows. More important, though, the girls rose above the immaturity and read the comments with a tone of confidence that took the power away from the cyberbullies, allowing the audience to see the perils of social media without feeling sorry for the girls.
There were many other projects, and none were more or less impressive than the others. Each student who presented (or at least the ones I was able to see) showed that they took the project seriously, and were able to articulate the failures and successes with an ease that showed how much they learned. And what these students learned was so much more than what we could measure or what can be learned in a curriculum that is filled with close reading and writing assignments and stuff that will get them “college ready.”
It’s safe to say that the skills within the Common Core will certainly, if taught correctly, build confidence in students and show them the importance of having humility. But there is something about learning these qualities through outlets that we choose–and were not simply assigned to us–that gives us a better understanding of who we are and how we handle the world around us. This was obvious to me as I watched these students talk about their work.
So to my readers who are working on their curriculum this summer, please consider implementing something like this with your students. I’ve linked the general idea of the 20% project in my description above, but if you’d like more information, just let me know. And for any readers who have connections to Common Core: Any chance we can fit this project in as an Anchor Standard for all grade levels?
As teachers, we talk an awful lot about “making connections” with what we read. However, how often do we direct our students to make connections that are more universal than simple experiences? For example, if you’re teaching A Farewell to Arms or The Great Gatsby, your students, more than likely, don’t have the experience of World War I or the wastefulness of the elite in the 1920s. Therefore, asking them to “make connections to a personal experience” can make the reader response exercise futile. It’s not that asking students to connect with experiences is wrong, but I do think we need to be more specific sometimes. While students can surely connect to some isolated experiences in the novel, meaningful connections that remind us we are all human beings and facilitate a deeper appreciation of the work need more direction at times.
If you’re looking for a more fruitful approach to getting your students to respond to literature, then I suggest reading my latest article on page 106 of the most current issue of Texas Journal of Literacy Education titled “Connecting Students with the Human Dimensions in Literature: Using Bruner’s Modes of Thought to Deepen Literary Appreciation.” Complete with students samples, this article will describe the steps in a unit that will help your students make connections to internal conflicts in the literature they read, then show you how to facilitate a literary analysis of their chosen conflict development. If you like, you can continue with the lesson by having the students write a personal essay that explores the development of their own internal conflicts, which is also explained in the article with student examples.
If you don’t want to read all the theory (and I don’t blame you), then read the intro on page 106, then skip to page 110 to “Putting this into Practice.”
If you implement the lesson, let me know how it goes. I’d love to hear from you! And if you’re in the Binghamton area and would like me to visit and help plan a unit, just email me or respond to this post.