Defending the Disney Princess

Recently it seems like we are going out of our way to dis the Disney princesses. Not sure when they became the enemy. I think many people believe you cannot raise a strong, independent woman on sparkle, lace, pink, and Prince Charming. Even though this has been building for a while, two things really got me thinking about all of this:

Women You Should Know

and

 

Before I continue, let me clarify that I LOVE both of the above. I think both concepts are beyond awesome. We should be encouraging everything going on in the above in BOTH sexes. Shouldn't boys also be aware of the strong women in history? Why can't boys and girls work together to create and build? So yes, it drives me bonkers when "girl" versions of toys are created. (Really Lego, we need pink and purple blocks for girls?) However, this isn't the fault of the Disney princess. 

Actually, the Disney princesses have exhibited characteristics of what we hope girls would do. For example: Cinderella knew that as evil as her stepmother and sisters were, they couldn't take away her hope in something better. Hello optimism. Then there is Aurora. Granted, she slept through her rescue, but she also taught us to be extremely patient with our old biddy aunts. You know, the ones who delight in amusingly judging and ordering people around. They are harmless and incredibly loving but can also be exhausting when telling you why your hair looks bad or that the guy you're dating is/isn't the right one. Next up is Ariel the red-haired Miss Independent. I mean, sure she used nefarious means to get what she wanted originally, but she took risks and stood up for what she believed was best for her. In the end, her father recognized her strong nature and let her go (perhaps a good lesson for parents as well?). Jasmine showed us not to settle for just any prince because you are supposed to. And of course my all time favorite, Belle, knew that what was on the inside far outweighed what was on the outside.

It doesn't seem to me like these princesses are completely destroying girls for the rest of their lives. My money is on the parents (as it usually is) because it is the parents, often acting on standards set by society, who set the example of acceptable "girl" behavior. My childhood did involve a myriad of Barbies and Disney tales full of sparkle, lace, pink, and Prince Charming. It also included He-Man, Ninja Turtles, Wonder Woman, original Legos, Star Wars, and Voltron. (Yes, I loved my Voltron so much that I took it to bed with me. Go ahead, ask my parents why it mysterious disappeared. Something about a "toy recall"-I was DEVASTATED.) I think I'm doing pretty okay. I even have two little boys who have reinforced my excitement with dinosaurs, superheroes, and robots/aliens. But you better believe they not only know who Jake and the Neverland Pirates are, they also are fans of Sofia the First.

We need to stop seeing Disney princesses as what is wrong with being a girl and more of only part of the complexity of what being a girl is.

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

As promised, here is Part II of my rant about the life altering changes that happened for me this year. If you grew up in Dallas (or any of its suburbs), then every year while in school you received a Fair Day and free ticket. This is because the State Fair of Texas kicks ass! Anyone who "doesn't get it" or "can't justify spending all that money in one day" isn't doing it right. The only money my family ever spends is on food, and that is MORE than worth it.

The fair is packed with free shows and entertainment. The Embarcadero building is a real life infomercial connected to all the prize winning creative arts and foods. Before they remodeled it, it was this sort of crazy maze of kiosks that I loved to get lost in. Really, my family never really spent any time in the Midway because we took the entire day just looking at exhibits and experiencing the fine cuisine of the food court.

The State Fair is so routine that I internalized the time schedule for the "permanent" shows, and two of those staples were the Birds of the World (@2:30 P.M.) and the Marine Drum and Bugle Corp (@4 P.M.). We saw these two things at these times every year without fail. Regardless of the order of everything else: eating a corn dog, seeing the creative arts winners, eating pizza, going through the butterfly house, eating a turkey leg, finding the queen bee, eating a cinnamon roll, sitting behind the wheel of all the cool cars, eating a funnel cake...Well, this year funding didn't come through for the Marine Drum and Bugle Corp so they didn't preform! As if me MISSING one of my tentpole shows wasn't enough, IT WAS THE LAST YEAR OF THE BIRDS OF THE WORLD SHOW! What?! So after 25 years someone can just decide to retire! That's TWO shows I will no longer have if funding for the Corp doesn't return next year. What will I do?! I see me sitting at the bandshell and just staring at the empty stage for half an hour lamenting the loss of the birds, and then walking over to Marine Corp Square and doing the same.

This is too much. I don't like it and have been in a right proper funk over it. I can't even discuss it anymore. So here's some pictures of our experience this year:

There's a New Green in Town

I abhor the one constant in life: change. I might be able to fool people into believing I embrace the new and different with optimism. IT. IS. A. LIE. There is a level of comfort in things remaining the same, so when many changes happen at once, I cannot always jump right on the wagon and hope for the best. The year 2013 will go down in my history as one of the most jolting years of my life because two things greatly changed at a pace I am not happy with: The Dallas Stars rebranded and The State Fair of Texas is losing two of its staple attractions. This post and the one that follows will address each respectively.

You may remember my "advice" on fixing my favorite sports team The Dallas Stars*. Well, as it seems to be in this world, no one listened to me. Instead Mr. Gaglardi decided to rebrand WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. Not only did he have the nerve to surreptitiously create a new image for the team, but he also fired/replaced/moved out players and personnel who I devoutly admired. After that, he proceeded to replace said players with the enemy! (That's right. He hired a Detroit Red Wing to be GM replacing the 1999 Stanley Cup MVP.) Oy vey! It was too much to bear. I spent the entire summer in dismay (and I did download the Boston Bruins app in order to keep up with my Loui).

However, as October approached it could not be denied that I heard the ice calling my name. I knew I couldn't resist that Victory Green forever. I'm no where near admitting whole heartedly that I love, love, love The Dallas Stars: The Next Generation ("A Star is Rising" sounds goofy. They should have seen me for catchphrases.) I am ready to admit that I'll give them a chance. Perhaps I will always be helplessly loyal to my boys:).

In order to make the transition, I have reflected on the many times the Stars donned new uniforms to keep things fresh.

When they first arrived, this is what took the ice. My dad still has one of these.

Of course this one is my fave! This is what they wore when they won The Stanley Cup. I proudly sport my Nieuwendyk one to all the games I attend.

This one is appropriately nicknamed The Mooterus Jersey. I hope I never meet the moron who created this.

Well, sometimes basic is good...sometimes...

TADA! Here is what the Organization in its infinite wisdom decide The Dallas Stars should look like in 2013.

So really, I suppose the rebrand could be a lot worse. I mean, Mr. Gaglardi did manage to invent a new shade of green to represent who we are as a team. And if you know Dallas, we like to believe we are "special" (I call it pretentiousness, but whatever.) Victory Green it is! There is no denying it looks fab on and off the ice.

*Yeah, that investment in Jagr didn't even last the season. Who saw that coming? I'm just sayin'...

The Death of the Homecoming Mum: A Wilting Tradition

Since this is my tenth year out of college (fourteenth for high school), I've been feeling all sorts of oddly nostalgic. This feeling was amped by my high school homecoming game this weekend. (In fairness, I work at the high school where I graduated from. Homecoming is kind of neat for me every year.) As many of my fellow Texans know, the most exciting part of homecoming was decorating a mum. The way it worked was a freshman, sophomore, and junior would wear mums touting the school colors (for us that's blue and white). Then once you were a senior you would don a solid white mum accented with either gold or silver. My mom created an exquisite mum my freshman year and every subsequent year simply removed faded ribbon and replaced it with new accents. Then she made a brand new one my senior year. Some of my friends would get together and make their own. Boyfriends' moms would make them for girlfriends. Girlfriends would make garter mums for boyfriends, and others simply paid professionals.

The day of the homecoming game is an experience for both students and teachers. Fortunately, I have been able to witness both sides. I remember finding that perfect balance of safety pins to stabilize the top heavy creation without it pulling down the entire front of my shirt (a thick ribbon to make a necklace or "neck brace" of sorts works well too). There was a giddy joy in perusing the isle at the "mum place" finding the right adornments each year. Of course I would also carefully plan the right outfit even thought the mum covered most of it. As a teacher, my first couple of years homecoming meant keeping a repair kit in my room with a hot glue gun, extra ribbon, and LOTS of safety pins. It also meant taping down bells whose incessant tinkling inspired a friend of mine to recite "The Bells" by Poe every year (a tradition all its own). I loved it! All of it. During the pep rallies I could look into the stands and just see smiling faces floating above a sea of flowers.

However, within the past few years there has been a great decline in annual mummery. Friday I only had seven out of my 140 students who had either a mum or a garter. This breaks my heart. Then I wondered why. After all, I didn't even know the tradition. I suppose I just always equated the mum with school pride and the disappearing mums were symbolic of that.

So I looked up the tradition of the mum and found two pretty good pieces. The first is from Garden and Design and the second is a Q and A on Ezine.

Being the goober that I am, I fell in love with the tradition even more after reading about the mum's origins. Now I really want kids to catch on at my school and start bringing it back. One of the biggest concerns is the cost. We have a large percentage on our campus of students who are at a socioeconomic disadvantage. Ignorance is also a factor to overcome. We have many Hispanic students who may be second or third generation American but whose parents didn't attend school in Texas and are unaware of the tradition.

In the end I don't really believe either of these are real obstacles. I'll be honest. I'm Mexican-American and didn't grow up with any kind of silver spoon in my mouth. If anyone knows how to create a lot from a little, I know my peeps can do it. We know how to shop the bargans and will gladly ask friends who are no longer in need of their old mums if we may borrow pieces here and there. (Two of my friends pulled out all their mums and told their younger sister to take whatever she wanted.) We can also bring in a style all our own. Does this mean mums might have a bit more hot pink and animal print then they used to? Probably, but I'll gladly adjust to that over no more mums at all. We really just need to get the word out. Maybe involve the community in donating supplies or holding raffles for pre-made mums. We could show short (and entertaining) videos during the announcements that pumps everyone up for Mum Day...I mean homecoming.

I know. I know. There are plenty of people screaming at the computer because this is a stupid thing for me to go on and on about. I realize a vast majority of students are facing no graduation because they cannot pass the STAAR exam. I realize many kids are just trying to keep their heads above water between school, a job, and younger siblings to care for. I realize teachers are being overworked in a bureaucratic system that the Vogons would envy. But for at least one day could we not get a little lost in ribbon and faux flowers and, yes, even the "bells, bells, bells..."?

An Accent is an Automatic 10 Point Bonus in Hotness

My husband has a very strict rule regarding what he calls "movies with accents." Basically, he refuses to watch them or be in the room when I'm watching them. What he really is against are movies with British accents that take on a Jane Austen-y theme (let's face it-most of them are just plain Jane Austen movies). I get it. Not everyone is cultured and sophisticated enough to appreciate the genius of Jane Austen and similar stories, and I love my husband so it does seem cruel of me to make him sit and listen to me squeal or whimper depending on various plot points.

Lately, I have been very drawn to these type of stories/films. It has everything to do with my last post. (Yes, I reread Austenland with the sole purpose of envisioning all the actors and actresses in the movie while reading.) I cannot seem to stop thinking about the many men with accents who allow me a little suspension of disbelief into a world of perfect romance through the big screen (and some are just plain hot regardless of the type of movie). Since lists seem to be a popular thing right now, I thought I'd create my own list of actors who bring out the absurd fangirl in me.

No particular order with the exception of the last one:

JJ Feild-Starting here just seemed logical since he's the one I'm "in love" with after seeing Austenland.

Tom Hiddleston-Love him as F. Scott Fitzgerald, but nothing tops the bad ass Loki.

Michael Fassbender-He's the reason I switched who I root for in the X-Men franchise.

James McAvoy-I'll take him with or without his accent (see Penelope).

Dan Stevens-Who didn't fall in love with Matthew Crawley?

Benedict Cumberbatch-I wonder what a high functioning sociopath like Sherlock Holmes would think of my list.

Simon Pegg-Hey, I find humor attractive. Besides, there is that one shot in Hot Fuzz where he's all kick ass with guns, and it's awesome.

Ioan Gruffudd-He is just as flawlessly gorgeous in real life. I've seen him. All I could do is stare from 20 feet away since I didn't pay $40 for his autograph, but trust me, he's HOT.

Henry Cavill-Okay, this one really isn't for me. My sister and dearest friend (that's two people although my sister and I are good friends as well) are in love with this one, but he is super gorgeous and will round my list off at 10 rather nicely.

Number one is and always will be:

Colin Firth-He IS Mr. Darcy and a role like that makes him irreplaceable in my heart.

Wow. After a list like that, I have a feeling I'll have very sweet dreams (and if I'm lucky they'll happen with an accent).

Happily Ever After

First and foremost: SPOILER ALERT! There is a chance that I will give something away regarding the plot of Austenland by Shannon Hale. Therefore, if you intend to see the movie or read the book, you might consider stopping right here and returning after you've done one or the other or both.

Okay, so I am in my early 30s and still melt completely at cutsie, sweet "fairy tales." When it comes to love stories, I am a firm believer in hand-holding, face-caressing, hair-sweeping-behind-the-earring, soft-kissing, fun flirting, sincere-complimenting, etc. Ending with a wedding is just icing on the cake (mmmm...wedding cake*-the best). In actuality, most rom-coms include a sex scene at some point. Honestly, I could do without that. If it must be included, then I want the Greek Drama version. You know, where they just close the bedroom door and cut to the next day with some sort of breakfast together or something. I'm a grown woman. I am well aware what is happening behind that closed door. There is no logical reason I need to SEE the sex happen. Plus, I really don't want to. Part of it is because I believe sex is something very intimate between two people who love each other on a soulful level. (Go ahead and judge, but before you make an ugly comment look at the name of my blog.) If I am watching the act, I feel like I have intruded on something and ruined the sincerity of the emotion.

All of that pertains to books as well. Which is probably why I flock to Jane Austen and avoid things that are 50 shades of bad writing. I get that there isn't a lot of physical contact in Austen's novels, but I know the characters really, REALLY want to. That's part of the romance as well- a male character loves someone so much that he has to wrestle with propriety and carefully verbalize sentiment (not always in the best way) when really he just wants to grab the girl around the waist, pull her to him, and kiss her into the next time period.

All that being said, I saw this a few months ago:



I've loved Keri Russell since her MMC days.

I love Bret McKenzie because he's half of a fantastic musical comedy duo: Flight of the Conchords.

I've loved JJ Feild since he looked like this in a favorite movie of mine called Jack and the Beanstalk: The Real Story. (Yes, even with that hairstyle and dubious nature, I still formed a crush on the original Jack Robinson.)

Obviously, I was meant to see Austenland which of course meant I needed to read the book first. The book was such a perfect summertime quick read! I simply couldn't put it down. Hale wrote the type of love story that causes me to squeal inside. The writing is incredibly entertaining. When one of the male contenders for Jane's affections asks why she is into the whole Pride and Prejudice thing, she answers: "'If you were a woman, all I'd have to say is 'Colin Firth in a wet shirt' and you'd say 'Ah.'”

The characters are also so captivating! I will admit I routed for Nobley the entire course of the novel even though Martin was more realistic. While the movie does a good job of making both characters likable, I think it cheats Mr. Nobley some of what made him so splendid in the book. For instance, Nobley discovers Jane's passion for painting and has supplies anonymously delivered to her room. I wish they had left that in the movie. Then there is a fantastic connection between something Jane's best friend tells her at the beginning of the story and Nobley's profession of love for Jane at the end. (That should have been in the movie too, but alas, I suppose there is only so much they can do in an hour and a half.)

The book is full of those tender moments that I believe to be part of true romance. The best part is that Jane has TWO men offering these moments, so she (and the reader) have to decide who means it and who is acting.  It is an appropriate homage to Austen because the main character, Jane, finally makes the realization that while we may sigh over a fantasy we would much prefer the reality. You know, that whole woman empowerment/independent type thing. (Of course, Jane still gets her "Mr. Darcy," but AFTER she chooses reality so it is win-win!)

I'm a sucker for a girlie love story. And I'm a sucker for this face:

What can I say? I pick winners!

*Apparently, bakeries are movie away from the traditional flavor of wedding cake because it dries out too quickly. WTH?! Although, my friend had a lemon flavored wedding cake because her color was yellow, and it was super delicious.

Everybody is Somebody's Baby

Those are probably some of the wisest words I've been taught while teaching. It is so easy to classify kids solely on their behavior in my classroom. However, I don't teach in a vacuum. Every one of my students has his/her own life outside the walls of our campus. A few years ago, one of my friends shared an idea with me where I ask the parents/guardians to essentially "brag" about their children. I hand it out on the first day of school emphasizing it is "homework" for their parents/guardians. The kids love that. I also give my students bonus points for returning it. The best part about it is that I learn so much about my students that they would probably never share on their own.

If any of my teaching friends ever need a good idea, use this one! I will be happy to send you the form I use.

Here are some things I've learned about my students after knowing them for a couple of days:

• One young man is so proud of his heritage, he will study ON HIS OWN and share what he learns with his mom. Way cool.
• One student has many siblings and lost one to swine flu. Can you imagine having to deal with that as a teenager?
• A single parent was bed ridden after severe surgery and her son stepped up to take care of her and the rest of the family (all younger siblings). HE IS 16!
• I have a young lady who not only loves One Direction but also wants to be a marine biologist.
• Many parents describe their students as respectful and kind and helpful and sweet. I kind of like going into the school year with that idea in my head instead of the cynical notion that teenagers are the pits.

I wish I could type in the exact words each parent/guardian used because I actually teared up with some of these. There is genuine pride pouring forth from every one of the papers. (I just promise to keep this as confidential as possible, so I can only give generalities.) It is amazing the different way a teacher views her students after learning so much about them right from the start.

Part of the "bragging" is also anything the parents/guardians would like me to work on with their student. They are pretty honest. I see a lot of "he just needs to be pushed" or "her writing could be stronger." And almost all of them assure me they are ready to support my efforts and will include their phone number. 

It boils down to setting the right tone for the school year. I realize these kids aren't perfect and will find ways to drive me up the wall. Yet, I can always come back to these "essays" and remember the positive and potential within each of them. I can find a way to make it back to the students described by their parents/guardians, and that is pretty awesome.

A Mother By Any Other Name...

would still work her ass off! Being a mom is tough, and I don't care where she spends a majority of her time-inside or outside the home. Mother = WORK. And one of these days I'll opine about the differences of mothers who work inside the home versus mothers who work outside the home. For now, I'll briefly explain what I call being a half 'n half mom.

See, I work outside the home. However, I teach therefore I have all holidays and summers off to work inside the home. I wrapped up Summer 2013 this past weekend. We all survived, and as always, my older son's behavior fell apart the last week because he, too, was ready to return to daycare and his regularly scheduled life. Apparently, 8 weeks home with mom is enough because he ran from me today to play with his friends. The 1-year-old gladly clung to the arms of his caretaker in the infant room without a second thought of where I was or when I'd be back. Not that we didn't have a blast together, but we the three of us are social creatures who need to be around lots of other people. Ha ha!

So I offer an album of the many adventures that were had over our 8 weeks at home. I'm sure there are some things I could still add, but 100ish pics seemed like more than enough.

If We Could Talk to the Animals-Grunt and Squeak and Squawk With the Animals

While I am staying home with my boys this summer (one of the many perks of being a teacher), I decided to take them somewhere "big" each Friday. Last Friday we went to the zoo. Now, I had my reservations because most of my memories of the Dallas Zoo involved hot, empty concrete cells. Even last summer before my second child was born, I took my son all the way out to the Ft. Worth Zoo because I wanted him to have good memories and not the depressing images I always conjured up. However, having to pack up and load two children into a car and then getting everyone out and situated in strollers with backpacks, etc. was exhausting enough. I didn't want to make a trip an hour longer (for there and back) than it needed to be. Since I heard that the Dallas Zoo had really come around, I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

The Dallas Zoo superseded all of my expectations.

It is no longer the zoo of my youth. It is clean. It is cheerful. It is well organized. It is full of friendly employees. It serves a delicious variety of foods in the main eatery. The imprisonment of animals is long gone. All the habitats are clean and clearly well cared for. The animals were even out to say hello to all the visitors. Had we been able to stay longer, we could have seen many shows where keepers come out to either showcase an animal or talk about one. And get this-THERE'S A DALLAS ZOO APP! It puts all the information I need right in my hand. My favorite part is that the GPS can place me anywhere on the zoo map. We never got lost! I was able to set a plan for which animals we absolutely had to see first. Trust me, that is incredibly important when making sure lunch is on time and trying to beat nap time before both children turn into cranky monsters.

By far the Wilds of Africa: Giants of the Savanna far surpassed everything else in my opinion. It was beautiful! They had elephants and giraffes and gazelle and zebras all in an open area modeled after...well...the African Savanna. Right smack dab in the center (sort of-it is outside the habitat but in the middle-just go and see for yourself) is a rest area with shade and misters. We were able to sit and relax a bit once it started to get pretty hot and just watch the animals behave naturally. It was beyond awesome!

Because I am a big believer that pictures can often speak louder than words, here are some photos of our visit:

It's just a sign. I came to see animals.

Children's Zoo was a fun place to play around for a bit.

Get back in that nest! I'm not ready to let you fly off yet.

If I stay perfectly still, you won't be able to see me.

Such a big boy riding Solomon the Camel all by himself.

I said 'no' to riding the real crocodile, so this had to do.

Giving Where's Waldo a run for his money.

Absolutely beautiful!

My son excitedly took this photo. He loved being so close to the giraffes. They are, after all, reticulated.

A quick mommy/children shot before leaving. Everyone having fun.

I know it was a successful day when this is what was in the back seat of my car upon returning home:

Don't let the shade fool you. Both boys were O-U-T.

I loved it! I am trying to find a way to squeeze in one more visit before it gets too hot for humans let alone animals. Ha ha.

Best Way to End the School Year

As the day ends for many of my teacher friends, I want to share this to remind everyone that regardless of irritating, state-mandated testing, we (teachers) have worth and matter to someone:

It is no secret that 3A was my most challenging class this year. If a kid could be labeled delinquent at something, s/he was probably in this class. That happens every blue moon. All the trouble kids land in the same class period in order to test one's sanity as a teacher. (In fairness, it may be the Cosmos balancing out the fact that six-ish years ago I had the BEST 3A class EVER. Those students know EXACTLY who they are and how much that class rocked.)

I tried with this class. There was positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement, and maybe even some pleading. Except for a select few, most of the class couldn't have cared less about the effort they put in or what their final averages were. The entire class was never whole because there was always 3-4 kids in alternative placement. I couldn't even celebrate the fact that 3A would be smaller on exam day since exempt students don't have to come to class because 16 of the 21 students WEREN'T EXEMPT! All this to say, I was not thrilled that my absolute last class of the 2012-2013 school year would be 3A.

Then Zak turned in his final exam essay.

Zak has a lot going on for a 16-year-old. Actually, two of my co-workers were a major support system for him and worked with me to help keep him focused. There was even a day when he asked me to read a letter his step-father sent Zak from jail because Zak didn't know how to read cursive handwriting. Due to various issues, there are days Zak comes in with a little more attitude than he probably should. Today was one of those days. He didn't bring anything to write with and didn't want to borrow a pencil for a shoe (hey, it's the only way I get my supplies back). When I asked him if he really wanted the zero for the exam because he didn't want to give me a shoe as collateral, he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "whatever." I was very disappointed in him because I felt he had come a long way this year. Finally, he managed to secure a pencil from a classmate and wrote this:

Prompt: Reflect on everything we've read, discussed, written about, and/or argued this year. Choose one thing and write about how it has impacted your heroic journey.

Yes, I cried. I still do when I reread this. I don't even care if people want to judge the poor conventions of his essay because 1) it was in a timed situation and 2) this young man wouldn't even string together a proper sentence at the beginning of the year let alone multiple paragraphs.

I also distinctly remember the Emmitt Smith incident because Zak was having a REALLY bad day which meant chaos for my class since he expressed his anger/frustration by disrupting everyone else. I got a note card out and wrote his name in a really cool font on one side and this on the other: "For me, winning isn't something that happens suddenly on the field when the whistle blows and the crowds roar. Winning is something that builds physically and mentally every day that you train and every night that you dream." Honestly, Zak was in such a bad funk that day, I figured he threw it away and wrote me off as a stupid teacher. I was wrong.

I honestly had given up the notion that ANYTHING I did mattered to my 3A. This, fortunately, reminded me that sometimes all I need to reach is one person.

Happy summer to all my teacher friends! I promise you all had a Zak this year even if you never knew it!

I'm Not Nick Carraway...

...and therefore am not "inclined to reserve all judgements."

My hetero-life mate, kham, and I went to see The Great Gatsby (FINALLY). We both had incredibly high hopes for the film. For starters, I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE Baz Luhrmann's movies. No one will ever be able to convince me his vision of Romeo and Juliet is wrong. He showed people why Shakespeare will always be the master wordsmith by keeping the art in the language and brilliantly updating the backdrop so teenagers (like me-I was 16 when it was released) would have a reason to appreciate a balcony scene. Not to mention the discovery of two great talents: Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes (side note: Paul Rudd played Paris-just sayin'). Plus, I am incredibly easily stimulated by color and movement. I am a visual learner and believe that often an image will speak more loudly than words. Moulin Rouge is like crack for my eyes. I never get tired of it. So my disappointment in The Great Gatsby was not premeditated because of some distaste for Luhrmann's movies. Actually, I hoped he would properly visualize what I see when I read the book. Think about it. It takes place during the Roaring 20s. The music and parties in the novel always conjure up bright colors and fast paced images every time I read it. This may be a main reason why Gatsby is one of my favorite novels.

So what went wrong? It took me a while to figure it out, but I knew something was not quite right when I wanted to leave about 30 minutes into the film. The great question I pondered was whether Luhrmann was actually SO genius in his interpretation that I was missing something clever or if he just completely missed the essence of Fitzgerald's work. In the end, I feel the movie got so caught up in the style that the message is lost The Great Gatsby exposes the shallowness of The American Dream. Yes, in this great country of ours we are supposed to be able to roll up our sleeves and work hard (or make the right connections) to achieve greatness. Unfortunately, that greatness is measured in material wealth. Even in contemporary society fame and fortune seem to be the indicators that someone has "made it" rather than finding true happiness.

In the novel, none of the characters are meant to arouse sympathy from the reader. The Buchanans are after all, "careless people, Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made. . . ." In this movie, they (well at least Daisy) are almost seen as victims of their circumstance when in fact they are just rotten people. Even when Daisy is being forced to make a decision, the viewer almost wants to feel sorry for her. Yet, every time I read the novel I hate her more and more simply because she chooses to embrace the emptiness of her life as long as it means she gets to have nice things. And what is with Tom crying over Myrtle's body? He's an ass! There is ONE person he gives a crap about, and that is himself.

Honestly, I wasn't excited about Toby McGuire as Nick because I am not a fan of Toby McGuire. No other real reason. I definitely don't think making Nick a headcase was pertinent to the telling of the story. Actually, Nick isn't really important enough, to me, to receive feeling. He just happenes to stumble into this story...this world and has to report back on it. The film made it seem as if he actually had been friends with Gatsby and cared about him. The feeling I always get from the novel is that Nick feels it is his duty to handle up on Gatsby because no one else would and he is living on Gatsby's grounds.

How can anyone feel for Gatsby himself? Maybe pity? This guy can't let go of his past and that's pretty pathetic. How could I cheer for a "hero" like that? And I don't believe I am supposed to. I will say this: Leonardo DiCaprio had me at his first smile as Gatsby. I had my doubts, but even Luhrmann admits that regardless of what people think about the movie, no one can argue with the exquisite performance DiCaprio makes as Jay Gatsby.

 

The part that had me the most confused was how much caricature Luhrmann seemed to employ when Nick would tell the story. This is why I thought that maybe he was being a genius. Everyone remembers the past with rose colored glasses, and there is a feeling of living life over the top when people think about the Roaring 20s. The novel itself goes into great detail at the overabundance at all the parties, so it would make sense to have all those scenes become almost a lampoon against the aristocracy since Gatsby could appear to live their lives better than they did and all on the buck of a criminal. But I don't think Luhrmann had that in mind. I think he simply wanted to visualize the artificial glamor of it all. And he did.

He provided my eyes with their regular dose of crack. The costumes were remarkable. The color was beyond vibrant. The scenery and music defined all that is Baz Luhrmann. I cannot fault him for that. I knew going in that it was a Baz Luhrmann film. However, when I have to audibly (very quietly though since I didn't want anyone to think I was crazy) keep telling myself "Remember this is Baz Luhrmann" because stuff doesn't make sense, then there is a problem. It was also very reminiscent of Moulin Rouge. I even expected Ewan McGregor at one point to pop out and give us a musical number.

People are welcome to disagree with me. I do have a degree in English, and I do teach this novel to my students. That might bother some if they feel my interpretation of the novel and comparison to the film are off (or if they aren't the forgiving type and tear up my grammar/conventions without taking into account this is a personal blog and being written at 11:26 at night). I simply mention these things to establish some credibility because someone somewhere will take all of this personally when it is certainly not meant to be a personal attack. In truth, I will probably own it because it IS Baz Luhrmann. He DID make a visually stunning film (remember that whole eye crack thing). Leonardo DiCaprio IS fantastic as Gatsby. So yeah, I'll own it and watch it again and again. But that doesn't change the fact that I was very disappointed and will tell my students that if they choose to see this version, they need to take great caution since it lacks the depth of the novel.

There he is... MR. America?

Schedules aligned and I had enough energy to take my three-year-old to the Mr. True Blue Pageant where I work. Our student council started this event last year because they thought it would be nice to recognize the young men at our school since we have a Homecoming Queen but no King. (I'm sure using it as a fundraiser is also a bonus.)

Here's why I thoroughly enjoyed tonight: great kids still exist. Even though at the core a teenager has always been and will always be a teenager, there are so many things kids face today that never once crossed my mind when I was younger. I see the change more vividly perhaps since  I teach where I also attended and graduated high school. I also watch television and know that these kids have companies pandering to them in ways that wouldn't have even been allowed when I was growing up. (I just recently read that Victoria's Secret is going to have a new "department" for teen girls? I'm already concocting a blog about why I am glad I have two boys.)

Since the focus of this evening was on the young men, it was refreshing to see that regardless of what society tells these boys they are supposed to be, they manage to be well spoken, well mannered, well groomed, and well brought up. All of them had the support of family and friends. All the cheering was appropriate and fun. Not once did I have to put on my "teacher hat" to correct a negative situation. It was a great feeling!

I took a little pride in knowing that seven of the 18 contestants sat in my classroom at one point in their academic careers. It was wonderful being able to whisper in my son's ear, "That's one of Mommy's students." All of the young men were excellent examples for my son to be watching, and I was tickled when he got excited during the talent portion.

The talents ranged from cooking to singing to dancing to instrument playing. And my little boy loved it all. I loved the fact that my son could see all the possibilities before him of what he could do when he is older. 

The whole evening was a feel good kind of night. Teachers deserve nights like this and should cherish them. We are doing something right and this was a great reminder. Good job KHam! Be proud of your crew! I certainly am.

"You are the light of the world..."

"...your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father." Matthew 5: 14, 16 (NAB)

Without causing an online debate about theologies,  I simply wish to explain why I chose to believe in the goodness of others and happy endings.

The bombings at the Boston Marathon was a horrid reminder that evil deeds can often appear successful especially after hours of mending wounds, healing hearts, and searching for the cowardly culprit(s) behind such a vicious crime. All day my news feed regurgitated headlines emphasizing the blood and loss of limbs and ominous feeling of the "who-done-it."

I fought the urge to leave work, pick up my boys from daycare, go home, and lock us all away never to go out into such a terrible world again! It took all of my effort to fight back the numerous thoughts of all the terrible things that happen in this word and all the terrible ways they could happen to those I love. It quickly lead to questioning why I bother to bring two innocent children into a world that could so callously take them out. I started thinking how every morning when I kiss my children good-bye it could be for the last time.

The option of cynicism and anger and hatred becomes so tempting. Why be kind to a stranger especially if he is the sicko with potential to cause so much damage? Why use kind words to people who probably don't appreciate them? Why not become an island so no one affects me and I affect no one? Or better yet, why not just always put myself first? Why find what makes me genuinely happy when Twitter and Facebook show us how much more entertaining cutting commentary that strips people down to their faults and then pokes fun at them seems to be, and how we are encouraged to use those methods to lift ourselves up? (I know I've been guilty of it. It is easy to do.) Why not focus on the material so I can attain what society deems success? Why not dwell on what I don't have but deserve?

Then I stopped.

I started to notice tweets and posts that included:

And then a friend tweeted this article about actor Patton Oswalt's take on the whole situation.

It all reminded me that I exhaust myself being "light" in the darkness. My unceasing optimism and idealism is what makes me such a great educator (and a loveable annoyance to some of my friends I'm sure). But you know what? That exhaustion is worth it if it means I can band together with other beams and outshine whatever malefactors threaten humanity.

Good will always win. Perhaps it may not be immediately, and in the instant gratification society "now" is when people want results, but good will triumph ultimately. I firmly believe that. Just as I firmly believe my simple "thank you" and "have a good day" can alter a person's perspective if even for a moment. I believe in the goodness in children (even my teenage students), and if it is cultivated correctly doesn't have to become evil. I believe that my happiness lies in love: the love of my family, the love of my friends, the fundamental love of life. When I project my light, my love can become contagious, and if enough of us project such a love then hate/ignorance/frustration/anger will have no one to cling to.

I realize many people will scoff or roll their eyes or label me delusional. How can I ignore the harsh realities of life? I can't. But I can do as Marcus Aurelius advises:

"Say to yourself first thing in the morning: today I shall meet people who are meddling, ungrateful, aggressive, treacherous, malicious, unsocial. All this has afflicted them through their ignorance of true good and evil. But I have seen the nature of good and what is right, and the nature of evil and what is wrong; and I have reflected that the nature of the offender himself is akin to my own...the same fragment of divinity. Therefore, I cannot be harmed by any of them, as none will infect me with their wrong."

Yes there is badness in the world and the feeling of helplessness to stop it can be overwhelming, but how I choose to continue to live my life facing evil head on is what matters. I am not alone in this as evident by the continuous support that avails itself after a tragedy. There are a bunch of us out there and it is vital that we always remember that.

As wise Master Yoda states: "Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering" and, "Luminous beings are we. Not this crude matter."