At the very end of our Summer 2011 trip to New York, Colin and I went to the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in Harlem. I’ve always found that at least one of their exhibitions has something of interest; this trip offered both a brand-new installation on Malcolm X and a smaller showing of the work of Romare Bearden.
Colin didn’t have much background knowledge on which to hang the information from the Malcolm X exhibit, but he had studied the collages of Romare Bearden that year in art. He had three pieces of torn paper to work with one day and he made this awesome representation of the Manhattan skyline. Note: Figures not to scale (or shape).
Colin enjoying a Spider-Man shaped ice cream treat in Central Park, Summer 2010. Consuming Spider-Man is a recurring theme for our trips to NYC.
This spring I gave Colin a choice: We could go to Disney and Harry Potter Land (World?) in Florida for vacation, or we could return to New York City, where we’d gone for a few days in the summers of 2007 and 2010. I was fully prepared for the seemingly obvious answer (he’d discovered and become obsessed with Harry Potter over this past long winter). But his even stronger obsession with the top-shelf selection of Star Wars toys he believes to exist only in New York won out. He also loves swimming and is too young to understand the notion of “beach quality,” so the allure of Coney Island undoubtendly played a part as well.
So, as we did last year, we’ll be departing from Indianapolis almost immediately after the UIWP Summer Institute. I’m sure you’re dying to know what’s on the itinerary!
Coney Island one day, featuring lunch at Nathan’s Famous…and new this year, the afternoon at Luna Park. I’m not positive on the height requirements, but he says he’s ready to try the Cyclone as well. I sustained a minor physical injury on that ride back in 2009, so I look forward to injuring him as well.
A return trip to the American Museum of Natural History, where he enjoyed seeing the dinosaur exhibit back in ’07. This year they have exhibits on the brain (which I’m as excited about as he is) and on sauropods, the world’s largest dinosaurs.
A couple of smaller museums–the Transit Museum (which I’ve gone to before) is in a decomissioned subway station in Brooklyn Heights and is very cool, as well as the Fire Museum. Oh, and probably one of the tours through the Lower East Side Tenement Museum.
Grabbing some baked goods at allergen-free Baby Cakes bakery on the Lower East Side. Colin has a tree-nut/peanut allergy and baked goods are often the trickiest since manufacturers can’t guarantee “no contact” even if a particular product doesn’t contain nuts.
We’re also, somewhat against my better judgment, we’ll be taking in a show…um, Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark. I don’t care about the quality; he’ll enjoy it. It’s just that paying for those tickets hurt a little bit.
And, of course, will hit the big three action figure meccas: Toys R Us in Times Square, Forbidden Planet, and Toy Tokyo. Colin has been doing chores for the past several months to earn some extra pocket cash. It will all be traded for imported plastic.
In the past, we’ve played in Central Park (on the agenda again, of course), took the Staten Island Ferry and visited the Statue of Liberty, gone to the top of the Empire State Building, gawked at the animals at the Bronx Zoo, and boarded the Intrepid. Any other suggestions for a seven-year-old?
Click anywhere on the image to view the video in a new window.
The sound issues in my second video are (largely) fixed. But, damn, if a new one didn’t introduce itself during the conversion to .mov. I’m taking a cue from the video we all watched earlier on working with ELL writers and declaring this “good enough.” If you’d like to see the video in its entirety, click on the image to the left.
Working on this project convinced me that Star Wars, as an example of popular culture conveyed through the mass media and marketed in every possible venue, can have a very real (and positive) role in the literacy development of a young learner. But in just seven and three-quarters minutes, I did’t get to start addressing the questions such an an investigation raised for me. I’ll share some of them here and hope that you’ll offer your thoughts and responses.
Acknowledging the dark side If I’m going to compare the role of Star Wars in Colin’s literacy development to that of the force (it binds, it guides), I need to engage in the issue of the “dark side” of the obsession. It’s very violent. In some ways our concerns about the ideas of death and violence have been assuaged (falsely, perhaps) by its representation in Lego Star Wars in which characters don’t die; they’re merely blown into their component pieces. That aside, all of his drawings involve fighting and battles. What do we make of this?
Living in a fantasy worldColin has a good grasp on the fictional nature of the violence in Star Wars. That’s reassuring from a the parental perspective, but what happens if he tries to write about Star Wars at school, in a curriculum such as Lucy Calkins’, which according to Thomas Newkirk, privileges the “real” and the “authentic”? He writes in the Language Arts Research Directions column “Popular Culture and Writing Development”:
Calkins encourages teachers to “lure” students away from fiction writing toward autobiographical writing, for once this fictional narrative door is opened, visually-based stories from the mass media come rushing in.
She wants children to capture and hold their childhoods, but to do so by employing adult genres. She begins by identifying a wide-spread contemporary anxiety about children—that they are not “having” a childhood because of the lack of authentic experience (and substitution of passive “virtual” experience from the mass media) or because these experiences are essentially lost from memory.
But this “construction” of childhood virtually dismisses the narrative affiliations—what [Anne Haas] Dyson calls the “cultural toys”— of so many children today. She therefore leaves herself open to the charge that she is superimposing her “construction” of childhood on children, luring them from their own inauthentic cultural affiliations to her more authentic ones. Even the use of the term “authentic” is problematic. By what standard can one claim that a young boy immersed in writing a Star Wars adventure is acting inauthentically? If the Star Wars writing is viewed as derivative, couldn’t the same claim be made for pet stories that employ story conventions of the wider culture? Is “authenticity” just a fancy name for preference? (543)
Teachers who are more familiar with Calkins’ approach–what do you think of Newkirk’s critique? Could Colin draw or write about Star Wars? What if he told a story about his friends playing Star Wars? Does it matter how far the characters and plots of the movies are buried within a narrative?
Can we make Star Wars keep working for him? One of the major observations of my video is how far-reaching the influence of Star Wars is in Colin’s literacy learning. You can literally see him engage in metacognition as he clarifies the identity of the word “beneath” as he uses his knowledge of the relationship Darth Vader’s face and mask. Can we find ways to encourage learners to continue using their knowledge of and interest in pop culture phenomena to support learning in various content areas?
Kevin Roozen’s very well done Research in the Teaching of English article “‘Fan Fic-ing’ English Studies: A Case Study Exploring the Interplay of Vernacular Literacies and Disciplinary Engagement” makes me think so. In it, he tells of a graduate student who strategically repurposes her abilities as a composer (in words and images) of pop culture narratives to support her learning of the likes of Plato and Kenneth Burke. He goes on to suggest that removing the limitations of writing and learning as they’re currently defined in various disciplines is perhaps a step toward Kathi Yancey’s vision for a new curriculum for the 21st Century that we read about earlier in the institute.
We were in Marion over the Fourth of July, and we had the occasion to walk back to my mom’s house from a restaurant in a dying shopping center not far away. A good part of that walk was through a expansive empty parking lot, originally paved for a now-defunct movie theater.
My most vivid memory of that lot and that theater is a June evening in 1982. My dad and I were going to see E.T. It’s the only time I can remember him suggesting and organizing something for us to do together. For some reason, I was convinced this was a big enough event to wear my suit (not E.T., not superhero; a regular suit).
We drove the twenty or so minutes into town and found a line extending from the theater doors, well into the lot. We got out of the car and joined the line. In my mind, this increased the excitement; I didn’t think about the potential problem such imbalance between supply and demand could create.
We stood in line only a few minutes; I doubt it really even moved at all. I remember seeing a woman open one of the exit doors and hearing her shout, “Everyone here for the six o’clock E.T.: It’s sold out.” She repeated the news, but I still had to ask what that meant.
Earlier this month, Colin spent a week with his grandparents in Marion, during which he had two 45-minute swim lessons with an old high school friend of ours. Through the magic of Facebook, we got two very detailed follow-ups (thanks, Mark) that I’ve been thinking about quite a bit since I eagerly read them to see how Colin was doing in the pool.
These two lessons, which essentially comprise a complete assessment and instruction cycle, provide a useful way of thinking about teaching and learning. While it’s true that working with one five-year-old swimmer in a pool is very different from teaching 25 adolescents in a classroom, I think there’s a lot to gain from a closer look at what Mark and Colin did together.
First, the lessons began with a clearly defined set of goals that served as the basis of preassessment. Mark identified six essential points of instruction (holding breath, swimming underwater, not holding nose, repetitive diving, kicking, and breathing to the side) and worked with Colin to see where he needed to focus instruction. Mark also recognized that teaching is a personal and social act, and he shared with Colin stories about going to school with Sarah and me, and mentioned to Colin that he and I have birthdays just a day apart. Continue reading “Teacher Goggles”→
Recently the phrase “fruit salad” came up in conversation among a few colleagues, and immediately the discussion shifted from menu planning to those musical wonders from down under: The Wiggles.
As the parent of a four-year-old, that reference wasn’t lost on me. In fact, I could not only hear the Wiggles singing the song, but I could also picture the video. To be sure, one of the prices of parenthood is all that exposure to really bad music. As the title of this entry suggests, you’re not only exposed to it, but you’re also required to integrate it into your collection for play on car trips.
I’m happy to report that our son has long outgrown the Wiggles and has, in fact, turned me on to an artist who I actually don’t mind listening to. I think my willingness to talk publicly about this artist suggests a combination of relief at being in the post-Wiggles era, and a general lowering of standards as a result of said era.
A few weeks ago, Colin came home saying he had learned a song that included the phrase “It doesn’t matter what you look like,” but he couldn’t tell us much more. This was, at first, a cause for concern. Let me explain. Continue reading “Who Wiggles Wilco”→
Depending on my financial status on any given trip to New York, I’ve gone from eating on the cheap (cereal in the hotel room for breakfast and dinner would be one extreme when I went to an NCTE spring meeting in 2000) to being significantly more indulgent.
Colin discovers the magic of breakfast on the go in Central Park.
Without a doubt, my favorite meal in New York is breakfast. I’m a big fan of breakfast, so I was very pleased to discover that nearly every corner store and deli in Manhattan seems to have a grill and a cook ready to fix bagels, eggs, and potatoes to order. I also loved how venturing out of the hotel for breakfast gave a glimpse of the sense of community in the neighborhoods of the city. Without fail, I was the exception when I had to state what I wanted; everyone else was a regular whose order was begun as he or she approached the counter.
But no one else goes to New York for breakfast, so let me share some other food moments that have been highlights in my travels there…
My first non-scrimping meal in New York was a gospel brunch at a Southern-Soul-Caribbean place called Lola’s that was in SoHo at the time. We went for Sarah’s birthday in 2000, and while the fried chicken was great and the entertainment fine, I did not care for the participatory pseudo-religious conga line I recall enduring near the end of the meal. The place was a lot nicer than that image just made it sound.
Before pineapple became the topping of choice, it was mushrooms and black olives.
On that same trip, we ate at John’s Pizza, located in a beautiful converted church in the theater district. We returned there in the summer of 2007, and Colin clearly shared our enthusiasm for the food. Also a big hit on that trip: Nathan’s hot dogs. Nathan’s was actually our first meal in New York on the family trip…South Street Seaport in that lame mall, but with a view of the Brooklyn Bridge.
A toast at the Telebar.
My favorite NYC food find to-date is, by far, a pub on the Lower East Side that’s British-themed in decor and fare. Telephone Bar and Grill serves perfectly-cooked fish and chips wrapped in The New York Times and a shepherd’s pie that’s equally delicious in its meaty and vegetarian incarcarnations. If I lived in the city, that place would be my hangout. Cheers!
Other culinary highlights in New York include a pre-jazz dinner at Blue Fin, where I had beforehand truthfully told the staff that we were celebrating our anniversary and Sarah’s birthday. We were treated quite well.
Also memorable: a lunch on my rainy last day in the city last spring with rising star and fellow Marion-ite Brian Patrick Murphy. When I ordered crab cakes at the West Bank Cafe, I was warned that these weren’t like the crab cakes I was probably used to (as a Midwesterner, I assume). In other words, they were full of actual crab, and they were amazing.
On that same trip, I discovered the one of the essential greatnesses of eating in New York. At some point I decided that I was starving for empanadas. I told myself I’d walk a couple blocks in search of some, but if I didn’t find anything right away, I’d ask somebody. I turned the corner to a busier thoroughfare and within just a few steps I had taken a seat, ordered a beer, and a plate full of tasty Cuban food was on its way.
Full disclosure: We ate Nathan's twice on that trip, this time at Coney Island, a much cooler venue.
Ever since my first trip there in 1991, I’ve been intrigued, energized, inspired, and fascinated by New York City. I’ve made several returns, a very important one of which was a short visit in 2005 when I realized there were so many things there I’d love to share with our son Colin. We made a family trek out during the summer of 2007, and in the upcoming weeks, I’ll share some of the places we went together–or places we’ll have to go together on another return trip.
I didn’t figure out how great Central Park was until Sarah and I went to New York for her birthday in 2001. While I understood the geographic notion of its “centrality,” it wasn’t until that visit, when we spent the better part of a day exploring, that I got hooked on Central Park and began to gain a sense of its historic, cultural, literary, and civic importance.
I think only residents can claim to really know the park (we get lost every time we try to get to an actual destination from within the park), but I make a point to go back every time to revisit old favorite spots and explore new.
Some of my best memories of New York would certainly include Central Park. The rocky landscape, abundance of statues, and variety of organized play areas made a hit with Colin, who we’re sure could have spent our entire time in New York there (and the Toys R Us in Times Square).
I also don’t think I’ll ever forget the time Sarah and I stumbled upon the Met by coming out of a wooded path and discovering it situated there, nestled between the green of the park to its west and the bustle of Fifth Avenue to its east. That’s still my favorite way to get to the Met. And nothing beats walking through the park early in the morning, when the city’s waking up and it’s just you, some runners, and a few very wealthy dogs enjoying all that beauty.
Next week I’m going to keep with the “green theme” and have a look at a few more places that are so naturally beautiful, you can hardly believe they exist in Manhattan.
What do you do when summer’s running out, money’s tight, and gas is expensive? There’s a recent trend toward staycationing, but with a four year old who’s essentially been on perpetual “staycay” for months, that’s clearly not an option. What’s left to do but to invent a new travel genre: the lamecation. (Full disclosure: A google search reveals I didn’t invent this word, but it felt like I did at the time…and all the extant uses online are…lame).
So this Friday after work, we’re loading the Matrix and heading west to Bloomington-Normal. On the itinerary:
Two nights at the Hampton Inn on Towanda Ave. (which, according to TripAdvisor is among the top hotels in the twin cities, by the way)
Playtime at the water park in Miller Park (with optional zoo and paddle boat excursions)
Exploration at the Children’s Discovery Museum
Extended gaming at Chuck E. Cheese…and, of course…
Ample swimming in the ridiculously chlorinated hotel pool.
As I make that list, I actually find myself getting kind of excited. There’s something to the notion of getting away, anywhere, even to a town not unlike our own just a few miles up the road. It’s okay to jump on the beds there, the dogs are someone else’s hassle for a few days (thanks, Laurie), and we’ll disconnect from email and Facebook for a few days.
I’d almost commit to the idea of planning another lamecation, but I think I’m going to take the alternate route and start squirreling away some dough for next summer. Stay tuned for updates…
As ring bearer for a wedding held in a cemetery, Unnamed Wedding Attendee* felt this opportunity couldn't be passed up. Hello, welcome to the Chapel of Style.Unnamed Wedding Attendee* did a little rehearsing for his preschool's production of Driving Miss Daisy.Though the bottle said 2%, this milk was clearly higher proof than that.
We were in Marion over the Fourth of July, and we had the occasion to walk back to my mom’s house from a restaurant in a dying shopping center not far away. A good part of that walk was through a expansive empty parking lot, originally paved for a now-defunct movie theater. 
Earlier this month, Colin spent a week with his grandparents in Marion, during which he had two 45-minute swim lessons with an old high school friend of ours. Through the magic of Facebook, we got two very detailed follow-ups (thanks, Mark) that I’ve been thinking about quite a bit since I eagerly read them to see how Colin was doing in the pool.
Depending on my financial status on any given trip to New York, I’ve gone from eating on the cheap (cereal in the hotel room for breakfast and dinner would be one extreme when I went to an NCTE spring meeting in 2000) to being significantly more indulgent.
FilkBlog: The Scott Filkins Experience 