This evening, I read through Thorton Wilder's "Our Town" for the first time since high school. You see, I was searching for an American play to have my 6th period English class read through and act out, as this particular class enjoys acting. I decided on "Our Town."
It's with some trepidation that I choose this play: it doesn't have the cynicism or raw edginess that my students really enjoyed in Arthur Miller's work first semester. It doesn't contain swearing, or sexual innuendo, or opportunities to be sarcastic. It's wholesome. When I used this adjective earlier today in describing the play to a student, she wrinkled her nose and made a noise that sounded like "uggh." In other words, my 6th period group has their guard up.
So did I, when I was in high school. "Our Town" definitely didn't appeal to my sarcastic and sometimes edgy sense of humor. The first act of the play feels like a 50s family sitcom, but without conflict... it feels saccharine at times, as though this small town was some cliche vision of "the good old days". However, as the play unfolds, it's hard not to be drawn in and invest in the characters. I remember identifying with George Gibbs and wishing I had an Emily Webb to tell me when I was acting foolish. I remember identifying with some of the quirks and foibles that Wilder attributes to small towns, and small communities in general. I remember identifying with the pressures and questions about the future that children of small towns ask themselves.
The third act packs an emotional wallop as we are taken through the feelings and grief of death, but from the perspective of the departed, longing for their former life. Emily, having relived the morning of her 12th birthday (an ability that the deceased possess in Wilder's world), cannot bear to spend a minute more in the past, knowing what she knows of the future. So, she returns to her ultimate resting place: the hillside cemetery overlooking Grover's Corners. As she departs, she casts one last, longing look back at her parents who are blissfully unaware of all that will befall them, both good and bad, important and trivial; at the home of her childhood; at the Grover's Corners of her lifetime, and says:
"Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflower's. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths... and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."
She then looks to the stage manager, who functions as an omniscient narrator throughout the play and asks:
"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? --every, every minute?"
The stage manager replies:
"No." He thinks, and then continues, "The saints and poets, maybe--they do, some."
This play challenged me even as a sarcastic high school Junior to realize life as I live it, to take nothing for granted and to strive to approach life as the saints and poets do. It is my hope that the play will have the same impact on a classroom full of my own students. Of course, I wouldn't have admitted how impacted I was to my teachers, and so I guess I can't really expect my students to do so either...
Monday, May 7, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Hello Context, my old friend
Lately, I've been using my spare time to pick up my study of the Japanese language again. Using an iPhone app, I've been learning the vocab that would show up on the JLPT Level 5 (the most basic difficulty level of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test).
I started studying the vocab several months ago, taking 10-20 new words at a time, and finally worked my way up to the entire set a couple of weeks ago. All in all, there are 714 vocab words at this level. I've taken the full quiz on my iPhone three times now: The first time, I scored 708/714; the second time, 709/714; the third time, 710/714. The words I've gotten wrong have been dumb mistakes--I try to finish the test quickly and so either push the wrong button or fail to read the options carefully enough when I rush.
Still, I'm improving: I've gotten a higher score each time, and the test has gone from taking me over an hour to taking just under 40 minutes (I was really flying through the questions this last time). The challenge now is to take all of this vocab and commit it to working memory. I need to start using the vocab that I know, and perhaps just as importantly, listen for the words I know when someone is speaking to me in Japanese.
I had an opportunity to listen at church today. Everything at my church--announcements, songs, readings, preaching--is in Japanese, with English translation provided via headset. This is great, except for when the headset doesn't work, like today. Instead of listening to a very faint English translation under a distracting amount of static, I opted instead to test out my Japanese listening skills. Though I certainly did recognize vocab words that I had learned, I had difficulty understanding how they fit into what the pastor was saying, and what the point of the sermon was. This was very discouraging and I was just about to put on the head-set and suffer through the static when the pastor mentioned "Hachiko". For those who do not know, there's a very famous (and true) story from Japan in the 1920s about a dog, Hachiko, who would meet his owner, a professor, at Shibuya station at the same time every day. Even after the professor died suddenly, the dog continued to faithfully venture to the station to wait at his post every day. The touching story has even reached American pop culture, as it was adapted into a movie (set in the U.S. rather than Japan, and butchered in the way that only Richard Gere can ruin something good).
Anyway, I digress. I recognized the mention of Hachiko, and decided that based on this basic familiarity with the story, I'd try my luck in listening without translation. It was a night-and-day difference. The pastor wasn't speaking any slower, wasn't simplifying his language, wasn't speaking any differently... I just happened to know the story he was telling, so I had a rough idea of what I was listening for. I understood maybe 80% of what the pastor said as he re-told the story as all the random vocab I knew suddenly slid into place and took on purpose contributing toward a greater meaning. Had I not known the story of Hachiko, I would have been just as lost as I was the rest of the time. I should note that the sermon was on Psalm 92, so I didn't have the contextual benefit of a familiar Bible story to follow along with.
Though I missed out on a lot of the content of the sermon by listening in Japanese, I feel like I have made progress in my ability to listen and in the scope of what I understand. Being able to pick out words I know actually helps me to pick out words I do not know as well. So, in the margins of my sermon notes (which were very brief and written in hiragana today), I jotted down the words I didn't know that came up the most. I'll look them up before next week and then hopefully be able to understand even more the next time I happen to not use the English translation.
In the meantime, though, context is everything.
I started studying the vocab several months ago, taking 10-20 new words at a time, and finally worked my way up to the entire set a couple of weeks ago. All in all, there are 714 vocab words at this level. I've taken the full quiz on my iPhone three times now: The first time, I scored 708/714; the second time, 709/714; the third time, 710/714. The words I've gotten wrong have been dumb mistakes--I try to finish the test quickly and so either push the wrong button or fail to read the options carefully enough when I rush.
Still, I'm improving: I've gotten a higher score each time, and the test has gone from taking me over an hour to taking just under 40 minutes (I was really flying through the questions this last time). The challenge now is to take all of this vocab and commit it to working memory. I need to start using the vocab that I know, and perhaps just as importantly, listen for the words I know when someone is speaking to me in Japanese.
I had an opportunity to listen at church today. Everything at my church--announcements, songs, readings, preaching--is in Japanese, with English translation provided via headset. This is great, except for when the headset doesn't work, like today. Instead of listening to a very faint English translation under a distracting amount of static, I opted instead to test out my Japanese listening skills. Though I certainly did recognize vocab words that I had learned, I had difficulty understanding how they fit into what the pastor was saying, and what the point of the sermon was. This was very discouraging and I was just about to put on the head-set and suffer through the static when the pastor mentioned "Hachiko". For those who do not know, there's a very famous (and true) story from Japan in the 1920s about a dog, Hachiko, who would meet his owner, a professor, at Shibuya station at the same time every day. Even after the professor died suddenly, the dog continued to faithfully venture to the station to wait at his post every day. The touching story has even reached American pop culture, as it was adapted into a movie (set in the U.S. rather than Japan, and butchered in the way that only Richard Gere can ruin something good).
Anyway, I digress. I recognized the mention of Hachiko, and decided that based on this basic familiarity with the story, I'd try my luck in listening without translation. It was a night-and-day difference. The pastor wasn't speaking any slower, wasn't simplifying his language, wasn't speaking any differently... I just happened to know the story he was telling, so I had a rough idea of what I was listening for. I understood maybe 80% of what the pastor said as he re-told the story as all the random vocab I knew suddenly slid into place and took on purpose contributing toward a greater meaning. Had I not known the story of Hachiko, I would have been just as lost as I was the rest of the time. I should note that the sermon was on Psalm 92, so I didn't have the contextual benefit of a familiar Bible story to follow along with.
Though I missed out on a lot of the content of the sermon by listening in Japanese, I feel like I have made progress in my ability to listen and in the scope of what I understand. Being able to pick out words I know actually helps me to pick out words I do not know as well. So, in the margins of my sermon notes (which were very brief and written in hiragana today), I jotted down the words I didn't know that came up the most. I'll look them up before next week and then hopefully be able to understand even more the next time I happen to not use the English translation.
In the meantime, though, context is everything.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Come Thou Fount
A classic song of praise, and my prayer for today:
1. Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.
2. Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
3. O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
by Robert Robinson
Alleluia moments
There are moments that occur in our lives that are so powerful and so exhilarating that the only response which makes any sense is to praise God. Of course, often such moments are suppressed or denied, or the praise is misdirected... but the feeling is unmistakable and telling when put in the context of who we are and what we were created for.
I had one such moment on the final evening in Thailand. I had another such moment tonight. I was biking along the river just after 8:00, I could see the stars in the sky and a full moon beaming intensely. There was a gentle, warm breeze, which carried with it the smells of the farm: hay, cows... some might revolt at the smell of cow manure, but to anyone who has lived in the countryside, it is the smell of life--the fertilizer that brings fields of wheat, rows of corn, and every other fresh vegetable we so enjoy bursting from the soil. The cicada chorus from several nights ago was resting, and in their place, a chorus of crickets chirping... again, familiar to anyone who has grown up in the countryside. All in all, the stars in the sky, the breeze, the farm smells and the peaceful chirping of the crickets were an unexpected combination in a corner of one of the largest cities in the world, and the setting reminded me with forceful clarity just how vast and beautiful God's handiwork really is.
What could I do then, except throw my arms up in the air as I biked along and sing alleluia? I'm grateful for tonight, and I'm also grateful that I've developed the balance sufficient to throw my arms up in the air for several minutes and continue to bike without swerving.
Friday, May 4, 2012
The Choice of Choice
One important ingredient of what it means to be human is our freedom and basic capacity to make decisions. The range of options before us is vast, spanning from the trivial to the momentous, and this has been true since God created Adam and Eve, and placed them in the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were called upon to make decisions from the start, as their first job was to name the wide assortment of creatures God had made. This was no small responsibility, sorting and organizing for their creator, but it certainly wasn't the most important choice they had to work out.
Of course, we know about the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the choice that the first humans eventually made, when tempted, to rebel against God. We, every human who came before us, and every human who will come after us, are born into this rebellion. In fact, we are predisposed to make that rebellious choice--it's rebellion not just on a genetic level, but on a heart level. What this means is that in some ways, the freedom of choice we like to claim is illusory: though we might desire to follow God, we'll inevitably make mistakes, whether from a careless choice or calculated disobedience--such is the disastrous result of being born into Adam and Eve's rebellion.
My understanding has always been that God allowing Adam and Eve choice was essential to giving legitimacy to obedience and worship: ultimately, those acts would be hollow without the possibility of humans not worshipping. Regardless of the exact theology behind this, here's where I'm at: I want to choose not having a choice. I want God to transform my heart so deeply that rebellion ceases to be an option and that my only thought, waking and sleeping, working and relaxing, is to glorify His name.
Is this, perhaps, the eternity that we wait for? Is this the new reality that Christ will build for us when He returns? I've responded to Christ's call to follow Him and I know I am not the faithful follower that I should be... but I want to be. I'm thankful for the ability to make decisions, but I want to use this decision-making power to fill my life with worship. This passage from Titus is of tremendous comfort:
"At one time, we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life." Titus 3:3-7
Of course, we know about the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the choice that the first humans eventually made, when tempted, to rebel against God. We, every human who came before us, and every human who will come after us, are born into this rebellion. In fact, we are predisposed to make that rebellious choice--it's rebellion not just on a genetic level, but on a heart level. What this means is that in some ways, the freedom of choice we like to claim is illusory: though we might desire to follow God, we'll inevitably make mistakes, whether from a careless choice or calculated disobedience--such is the disastrous result of being born into Adam and Eve's rebellion.
My understanding has always been that God allowing Adam and Eve choice was essential to giving legitimacy to obedience and worship: ultimately, those acts would be hollow without the possibility of humans not worshipping. Regardless of the exact theology behind this, here's where I'm at: I want to choose not having a choice. I want God to transform my heart so deeply that rebellion ceases to be an option and that my only thought, waking and sleeping, working and relaxing, is to glorify His name.
Is this, perhaps, the eternity that we wait for? Is this the new reality that Christ will build for us when He returns? I've responded to Christ's call to follow Him and I know I am not the faithful follower that I should be... but I want to be. I'm thankful for the ability to make decisions, but I want to use this decision-making power to fill my life with worship. This passage from Titus is of tremendous comfort:
"At one time, we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life." Titus 3:3-7
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
The Qualities of Quality Writing
This afternoon, I enjoyed a good discussion with my fellow English teachers about the characteristics of good writing. I want to open the question up for contributions--what do you think makes good writing GOOD? Whether an essay, research paper, article, story or something else, what sets good writing apart? Please list characteristics and/or examples in the comments section!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Audit #3
Today, today, is the first of May.
Four months since I wrote my New Year's Resolutions and one month since my last audit.
April was a good month--stressful, for sure and the week I'd been looking forward to most (Easter/Sakura blossoms), I developed allergies to the pollen and got a cold. Still, it was a month of re-focusing; getting back on track.
I've talked in recent posts about the lessons I've learned in trust and prayer, and that's all been a product of the past month. The cool thing is, when I do give up on my selfish ambitions and my narrow ideas of success, and strive to make God the center of my life, everything else really does just fall into place. Though it certainly was not a regular thing, I cooked several times over the past month. I also worked out several times. Most significantly, I wrote almost every day. Those were the three items on my list of New Year's Resolutions--things that seemed pretty far out of reach and beyond hope a month ago.
I guess the lesson (a reminder, since it's something I've learned before) is that God needs to be at the center of any and all planning that I do. As May begins and I can now see so clearly the end of the school-year (and along with it, another distinct chapter in my life), I am humbled and I pray for the strength and mercy that only God can grant. I hope to make a habit of some aspects of a healthier lifestyle, cooking and exercising more, and I hope to continue to write regularly. Above all, I desire to keep praying, to keep my focus where it belongs.
I return to my favorite Psalm, which reminds me of who I am and where my hope is found: "My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken." (Psalm 62: 1, 2)
Four months since I wrote my New Year's Resolutions and one month since my last audit.
April was a good month--stressful, for sure and the week I'd been looking forward to most (Easter/Sakura blossoms), I developed allergies to the pollen and got a cold. Still, it was a month of re-focusing; getting back on track.
I've talked in recent posts about the lessons I've learned in trust and prayer, and that's all been a product of the past month. The cool thing is, when I do give up on my selfish ambitions and my narrow ideas of success, and strive to make God the center of my life, everything else really does just fall into place. Though it certainly was not a regular thing, I cooked several times over the past month. I also worked out several times. Most significantly, I wrote almost every day. Those were the three items on my list of New Year's Resolutions--things that seemed pretty far out of reach and beyond hope a month ago.
I guess the lesson (a reminder, since it's something I've learned before) is that God needs to be at the center of any and all planning that I do. As May begins and I can now see so clearly the end of the school-year (and along with it, another distinct chapter in my life), I am humbled and I pray for the strength and mercy that only God can grant. I hope to make a habit of some aspects of a healthier lifestyle, cooking and exercising more, and I hope to continue to write regularly. Above all, I desire to keep praying, to keep my focus where it belongs.
I return to my favorite Psalm, which reminds me of who I am and where my hope is found: "My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken." (Psalm 62: 1, 2)
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