Glass Slippers They're Not, Thankfully
“Elegance” is a word seldom associated with me. I wish it were, but after all these years, I’m still waiting for it to happen. Godmother-with-the-magic-wand, you’re late.
I was never all that into ‘shoes,’ and in fact, I never wear them unless I have to. Shoes are the first thing to go when I walk into my house, I really don’t notice other people’s shoes unless they’re sporting something truly bizarre, and until a few years ago I had no brand loyalty whatsoever.
That changed when I discovered Minnetonka.
Back in college, everybody had Minnetonka moccasins; we built them ourselves from that mail-order kit that came with oddly-shaped pieces of leather, a lot of leather thong (no, not THAT kind) and a little notecard of instructions.
But now, I wear Minnetonka loafers almost every day, and it’s like being barefoot, it truly is. These babies are so soft, so incredibly SOFT, you can actually wad them up in your hand.
They look nice enough to wear to school, and they feel so good that sometimes I forget to remove them when I get home again.
I’ve got three pairs: black loafers, brown loafers, and brown high moccasins with laces. That sounds weird but these shoes are sooooooooooo comfortable. . . . .
Actually, I’ve had the moccasins for so long, I really should invest in new thongs. I’m not all that observant, and anybody who knows me can tell you that my sense of ‘style’ is pretty lame, but when a shoestring is so broken and knotted that you can barely find enough length to tie it, it’s time to replace it.
Really, the only thing that’s remotely ‘awkward’ about my gorgeous super-comfy Minnetonkas is that it’s a little hard to tell the left from the right, just by glancing. Most shoes have that definite ‘curve’ but these don’t.
Not that I would ever leave the house with my shoes on the wrong feet. Wrong feet? They’re MINE, aren’t they?
The only thing sadder than that would be having students point it out before you realized it yourself.
The Homework Debacles
Update: I’ve put the forum url on here. Enough is enough.
I am being burned alive over on a teacher forum (this one) over the concept of homework in the public schools. I never gave much homework, but what little I did assign, I expected to be done, and it counted the same as a quiz. (I still do!) I know that many teachers give far too much homework, and that many students are struggling so badly, they are unable to get it done even with effort. I know that many households are so dysfunctional and scornful of education that they put obstacles in the student’s way and as good as forbid him/her to take pride in a job well done, all on one’s own. I know that many students bring home huge assignments from every class, every night. I do not believe that is what the concept of ‘homework’ is supposed to be all about.
I do believe, however, that homework, sensibly assigned and properly done, can be a real help to both the student and the teacher. Often, when something new is taught in class, it’s easy to think you’ve ‘got it’ while in the room, with lots of other people who think they’re ‘got it,’ too, and the teacher right there. But once at home, with the same thing in front of you, suddenly you begin to wonder if you’ve really understood. Doing a few problems, pieces of writing, question-answering, etc, all on your own, by yourself, at home, away from the teacher and the other students, will often let a student know that YES, he/she understands and YES, I can prove it! or “oops, maybe I didn’t understand after all, but I’ll give it a try” which means the teacher can look at that attempt and be better able to help the student REALLY get it, or maybe the student will just give up or not try at all, which tells the teacher that this student isn’t a go-getter, and gives up quickly, or has other problems. The point is, without the homework, how can a teacher know who can do it out there in the world, and who can do it only within the confines of the classroom? And, most important, who can’t do it at all, on his own?
By my way of thinking, almost anything done in a classroom is a kind of practice. It is out there on one’s own that things learned in school become useful. Someone who can do the work only within the confines of a school hasn’t really mastered it.
I am NOT an advocate of LOTS of homework. I think too much homework cuts into personal and family time, and turns the wonder of learning into a burden, and many children have such dysfunctional homes that there is no way in hades they could ever find the time or place or opportunity to do homework. Assigning a little homework and finding out a child just can’t do it, for whatever reason, is something that can’t be assessed in a classroom.
Remember, I do not believe in huge, crushing assignments, costly projects, or last-minute rushed assignments that put a dent into a planned family activity.
We planned our activities around homework and school, but a last-minute thing might really have ticked me off. Fortunately, my children’s teachers didn’t do that. Frankly, I think a good teacher would NEVER toss off a last-minute lengthy assignment, due so soon it messes up a family’s plans. That is poor planning on the teacher’s part, and completely unfair to both the student and his/her family.
I do know for a fact, though, that many students have an assignment for a week or more and don’t do it until the absolute last minute, causing the parents to think it was hastily assigned and not given enough time. (Parents, before you call and complain, find out how long your child has known about the assignment!!!)
Over on that forum, I have been told that I am heartless, without either sympathy or empathy, overly strict, elitist, compassionless, and countless other things that have really hurt me and caused me to wonder if maybe. . . . they’re true? The other teachers there, with just a few exceptions, believe that homework is not necessary at all, that it cuts into family time, that there should NEVER be any homework, and that if a little homework is necessary, the choice of doing it or not is entirely the student’s choice, and choosing NOT to do it should have no bearing whatsoever on the final grade.
I maintain that a LITTLE homework is often extremely helpful, both to the student and to the teacher, and that homework not only reinforces skills, it teaches the student about cause and effect, consequences, organization, accountability, and dependability. I also maintain that a student who does his/her homework is also obeying the teacher and demonstrating good character, as well as re-enforcing new concepts and getting a little practice in.
TOO MUCH homework is a bad thing. Occasional homework is a good thing. I believe that homework should have purpose; busywork is not a good homework assignment.
Some of the teachers on that forum are also saying that anything in the form of drill or memorization is unnecessary because it isn’t any fun. I maintain that often we must first learn HOW to do something before we can jump and and DO it. Can musicians leap right into the hard stuff without paying their dues with the easier stuff? Do they not drill and practice constantly, even AFTER they’re considered great? How can we master the fun stuff if we don’t LEARN it first? Are athletes just born that way, so they don’t need to practice? Dancers? Singers? Any kind of skill at all? Are some people just born talented and so they never have to practice? How many of us are struggling now because we weren’t required to learn our math facts in second grade? I am, that’s for sure. How many of us fall into that unfortunate category of people who never had much geography, and now we couldn’t find Taiwan unless it animated itself out of a computer screen? I had to memorize dozens of poems in 7th grade (the forum was appalled) and at the time I hated it but now? Wherever I am and however bored I might get, I’ve got literature in my head and it will entertain me.
The debate isn’t about how too much homework is bad. It’s about any homework at all. They say, none. I say, some, and it should count, and mean something, too. I also say that kids who do their homework deserve more credit than kids who refuse. (The forum says no difference should be made.)
Okay, please take sides.
P.S. There are a few teachers on the forum who agree with me. Most of them, however, think I’m Cruella de Ville and I want to skin their puppies and wear them in winter.
P.P.S. I’ve always been more of a cat person, myself. 🙂
Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly
Type O Cocktail, Anyone?
Remember that Twilight Zone episode (Little Girl Lost) where the little girl fell out of bed and rolled right through the wall, into another dimension? And her father tried to get her out, but the ‘door’ to the other dimension was shrinking? All through the episode, he made marks on the wall so he could get an indication of how fast and how much it was shrinking. Just when the viewer thought the girl would be stuck in there forever, wandering in her nightgown crying for her mother and father, and that her father would be stuck half in and half out, he found her hand and gave her a tremendous tug and they both got out in the very nick of time, the absolute last minute, and the ‘door’ disappeared.
I watched that when I was a really little girl. That episode scared me so badly, I still have nightmares over it. My parents were remodeling our house then, and when I went to bed that night, I noticed for the first time that my father had made marks on the wall beside my bed. Those marks looked just like the marks on that other little girl’s wall. I would lie there and look at those marks and think unimaginable thoughts.
I think that was when I stopped falling asleep easily. Even now, I lie awake for hours, most nights, worrying about things and replaying scenarios and putting myself into scripts. . . .
As a child, I wasn’t allowed to watch most scary shows, but for some reason, my parents did let me watch The Twilight Zone, and The Outer Limits, and One Step Beyond. I loved them beyond all reasoning, even while they became a great part of my worst dreams.
Those shows traumatized me, but am I sorry I watched them? Nope. Even though I was shivering in my shoes while I watched, I was also storing the concept of absorbing drama in my mind, taking note of HOW a story could mesmerize a person, and how a writer could give words and actions to actors and make something that could never happen genuinely believable for a half hour every week.
Yo, scary prime time shows, no problem: I was allowed to watch them all. But when it came to Saturday night’s Nightmare Theater, starring Sammy Terry, and featuring oldies but goodies like Dracula, and Them, and When Worlds Collide, and all the other really old horror movies, and old atomic-bomb-fallout movies, and bizarre supposition movies, the answer was absolutely NOT.
That’s one of the many reasons why my cousin C and I started staying all night with our Mamaw every weekend. We got to eat whatever we wanted (french fries and macaroni and cheese, at the same meal) run all over town without having to account to anybody, and stay up LATE and watch Nightmare Theater.
We got so scared, we’d put our feet up on the couch so the monster underneath couldn’t grab our ankles and pull us under.
Were we permanently traumatized? Were our childish little psyches scarred?
Nah. We were smart kids and smart kids are, well, smart. The whole concept of being scared by something that was forbidden was so cool, it probably wiped out anything else.
I wanted to be allowed to watch Nightmare Theater at home so badly, I wrote to Dear Abby about how my cruel parents wouldn’t allow it. You will all be surprised to know that I never got a response. I know I was surprised.
But at Mamaw’s house, on the weekends, with no supervision whatsoever, Cousin C and I had a blast. And we watched Nightmare Theater, even though we’d been ordered not to. Oh, we were wild girls back then. . . .
Those were the days.
