THAT ONE GREAT REGRET

Regrets.

They are the outcome of a decision made prematurely, a thoughtless action or inaction, an impulsive act made without forethought.

A missed opportunity.  

I have never fully understood (and in many ways, envied) people who say confidently they have lived a life with "no regrets."  No regrets?  Really?  Haven't you made mistakes you wished you could take back?  Haven't you ever found yourself looking back on a circumstance, only to realize, "I could have been a better friend, made a nobler decision, acted with greater courage or authenticity?"  I have.  All of the above.

To me, if someone I love or care about was hurt in anyway by my action or lack thereof?  That is a regret.

It's not that living with regrets is a "bad thing."  It's a life thing.  It's a great teacher.  It forces us to reflect; to look back on former decisions so that in our future, we will make better ones.

Regrets keep us humble, and humility is a character trait that is both rare and precious.  Regrets remind us that we need grace--and in turn, we would do ourselves well to offer that same grace to others.

This article was shared with me by a friend and colleague who thought it would be a great read for this class.  It is thought provoking.  Hopefully, it will remind you that while we might not be one of those "lucky few" who live "without regrets," we are among those who discover some profound purpose in every single one of them.


http://www.dailykos.com/story/2014/10/29/1340122/--Son-tonight-I-will-kill-myself

THE GREAT LOST ART OF ASKING

Somewhat related to power and language would be the art of asking for something in such a way that you guarantee an answer of...."YES?"

I am sharing this particular TED TALK for three reasons.  Number one, as an enthusiast of theater (and a person who realizes that there is a large dose of theater in every language and literature endeavor) I love this presentation by Amanda Palmer.  She is a brilliant speaker and story teller, as well as a pretty good artist in the genre of cabaret-punk music.

Number two, she talks about  both the art of asking as well as the art of discovering the RIGHT question to ask.  Both are equally important.

Finally, number three, because it is both snarky (love) and entertaining (double love), I think it teaches both the art of presentation to an audience as well as the art of using your language to reach a goal or get what it is you ultimately want (language and power.)

Enjoy, and please share your favorite moments!  :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMj_P_6H69g#t=13

SEVEN SHELBYS: A VISIT TO THE MOVING VIETNAM MEMORIAL WALL

This reflection relates, in a way, to our discussion of Language and War.  In this particular case, I am personally looking at the ultimate effects of war on individuals and how they define themselves, as well as how war makes us respond with our language.  I dedicate this post to my friend Larry Frost....

After reading, please do one of two things:  respond with any thoughts you have on this particular reflection, or please feel free to share any reflections YOU have from a visit somewhere that made you stop and think, a war story or any other story from a loved one...whatever you would like to share with us....

Last weekend, we took the family over to our Estrella Residential Center to visit the Moving Vietnam Memorial Wall.  I have never seen the one in Washington DC, neither have our kids, so we thought that would be a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon and reflect on the freedom we enjoy, and take time to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

One of our very dearest friends is a Vietnam veteran.  He has shared many incredible stories with us in our home and his.  We have looked through his picture and scrap books of memories, and seen the display of his many war medals that his wife lovingly made for him.  He had tried to throw them all away once, but she would not hear of it.  Despite the memories that still haunt him over thirty years later, she sees him as a true American hero.  So do I. 

I remembered him telling us many times about his dear friend, Shelby, whom he lost over in Vietnam.  It was a horrifying story in which my friend witnessed his best friend's helicopter being shot down just yards away from his own.  Shelby had a baby daughter when he died...a daughter who would never know the incredible, kind-hearted man who was her father.

We arrived to the wall that day, and I realized I didn't have the slightest clue as to what Shelby's last name was so that I could find him on the wall.  My friends live in Kauai, so I texted them, hoping that perhaps they would see the text and reply in time.  In the meantime, we decided to try and inquire based on our knowledge of Shelby's first name.  It was not a common first name.  Maybe, just maybe, we would get lucky.

We asked the volunteers who were not only gracious, but eager to help us find this friend.  They looked up the name "Shelby" in the database.  "Let's give it a try," one of them said.  Then, we waited a few short seconds, and she gave us the verdict:  "Seven.  There are seven Shelby's on the Vietnam Wall."

I asked her about them--perhaps some detail might register so that we could narrow it down.  Here is what I learned:

There are seven Shelbys on the Vietnam Memorial Wall.

One was from Louisianna.  

Two were from West Virginia.

One was from Virginia.

One was from Missouri

One was from Nebraska

and one Shelby hailed from Ohio.

All of the Shelbys on the wall were from the ages of 20-23 when they died.

Seven sons.  Seven friends to countless others.  Seven American heroes.

These are the things these soldiers share...along with their name.

Suddenly, we wanted to find them. We all wanted to find each of the Shelbys on the wall because no matter which one was my friend's buddy, they all had a story to tell. 

A story that ended much, much too soon.

In a strange way, I felt we owed all of the Shelbys a glance, a silent word of thanks.  A touch on the wall.  A photograph.

They deserved to be remembered.

We found all of the Shelbys.  I took photographs of their names because these young men matter.  

My friend did send me a text before we left the exhibit, and we were able to obtain a rubbing of his Shelby.  The Shelby who was his dearest friend.  The Shelby who would never really know his daughter.  The Shelby who will always have a place in my friend's heart, and now, mine...

But I am so grateful to have found the others, as well.  They will also have a place in my heart.

FIGHTING THE BATTLE? Words of War in Well-Being

We have been talking about how language defines and signifies communities and individuals.  Before we embark upon reading what I consider one of the most beautiful works of literature that is, in fact, a story of war, we will explore the language of war.  Specifically, we will look at various texts that were written/spoken/published, taken from a time when the whole world was at war.  What defines this language?  What literary tools and techniques are used to communicate the agenda and purpose?
In this week's article, we will discover that this very unique language of war has seeped into other realms of life, specifically the realm of health and well-being.
In another context, I recently read a quote from a young boy who has been living with cancer that broke my heart:  "I know that I am going die.  I have accepted this and I am at peace with it now.  But somehow, I feel that I am letting everyone down because I have lost my battle.  I feel that maybe I just didn't fight hard enough...that in dying I am not just leaving, I'm losing."

Once again, we see that our words and how we use them have power.

http://newoldage.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/04/11/wounded-by-the-language-of-war/ 

TODAY, THE TRUTH FOUND ME....

This week, we will begin exploring another section of Part I, Language in Cultural Context:  Language and Identity.

With each generation, it seems  discovering and defining who you are as an individual, and maintaining uniqueness and individuality within our communities becomes more and more challenging.  Often, as we go about our daily lives, we are forced to wear masks.  These masks reflect more of what we believe OTHER people expect us to be rather than who we truly are.  Most of us have many masks in our "wardrobe," and we are flipping through them so often during the days, weeks, and months, we eventually lose track of who we TRULY are underneath it all.

Who we are as individuals may be determined and defined by a myriad of different factors, depending on our beliefs and world views.  What is YOUR truth?

You don't need to answer that here.  Instead, watch this very unique short film about Identity.  Then, write a synopsis of the film:  what is it about?  What is the message?  What did you as the viewer take from it?
(Art work:  by Michelle Robb)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikGVWEvUzNM

THE EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE:  What does this do to our Registers?  How do we know when to slang or not to slang?  How do different nuances in English define communities?

I will be honest and say I am not a fan of slang....unless it is used in the appropriate setting.  I believe in moderation with most things, including language.

I recently spent months researching slang of the 1920's, and that was a whole lot of fun.  It also opened my eyes as to where some of our current slang originated, and how the meanings have changed.  Words go in and out of style in much the same way our fashions do.  What was hip to say in the 80's makes you sound "old" and "out of touch" today.  It can be hard to keep up, and in many ways, the changing slang landscape can be a way of excluding and including others via language.

Here is a very interesting article from the BBC on Slang.  Although the British slang may not be the same as ours, well, it is cool to learn about what "slang" looks like in other English speaking countries. I think this article is poignant because it also addresses how English is becoming a much more international language, and every nationality is dressing it differently to suit their cultural community.

So....watch your slanglish, and enjoy the read.  I look forward to hearing your reactions!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/8388545.stm

THE POWER AND PROVIDENCE OF WORDS

“Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.” 
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

It is our class theme...and if I am totally open and honest, it is a major theme in my own life as a literature teacher and writer, as well:  The Power of Words....

I will share with you two stories from my life, as well as two very different videos that both address this theme.  In return, I want to learn about YOU, and how this theme is true for you in your life.

Flashback many, many, MANY years ago.  Mrs. Caraway is only about three, almost four years old.  This must have been a significant moment to me because I don't have memories from that far back...yet this one is clear.  My mother had bought me a magnetic letter set and board so that we could practice "making words."  She would move the letters around, and I would watch, in amazement, and listen to the sound of them sliding on the board.  She made the word cat.  She made the word dog.  She made other words.  And then she made the letters spell my name.  

That same day, she had to write a check at the table to pay a bill while I was busy sliding the letters around on the board.  I remember very clearly watching her sign HER name on the check--she wrote in swirly letters, and she had beautiful handwriting.  She wrote in that strange language you all know as "cursive."  I didn't say anything, but as she put the check into the envelope, I remember distinctly thinking to myself: I need to learn how to write my name--how to write these words the letters make in swirls.  That was powerful.  I recognized that power.  Even at three.

Flash forward to my freshman year at Marina High School in Huntington Beach, California.  I was probably THE shyest girl in Honors English I.  I barely spoke.  Our first writing assignment was given:  write a description of a secondary character from Steinbeck's  The Red Pony in his same style of description.  I read the reading assignment we had over carefully.  I noticed how Steinbeck didn't describe his characters outright; instead, he put them into some mundane or routine action, and gave us a glimpse of what they did, how they did it, and the very subtle expressions in their face and words.  He basically SHOWED us who they were.  I wrote my description of Jody's (the main character) mother.  

The next day, the teacher said only one student did the assignment correctly and imitated the style of Steinbeck.  She was going to read that student's work out loud.  I remember the instant she started reading recognizing my words.  THAT was powerful.  She told me that day (aside, later) that I was a writer.  That's what she said:  you are a very good writer.  I still remember those words and their power.  They meant the world to me. 

We are about to embark on a reading of some very inflammatory texts this week.  They may upset you.  They may offend you.  Why?  Because words have power.  They use this power in many ways--depending on the author's intention.  They are weapons of anger and destruction or saviors of grace.  In just four weeks, we will begin reading Markus Zusak's The Book Thief.  You will see the power of words in one young girl's life and the life of her country.  You will see those words hurt and heal.  And you know what?  The experience will be powerful.

I love words so, so much.  I love to play with them.  I love to manipulate them and move them around on the page.  I love searching for just the right one.  They mean the world to me, so this will be probably my longest post of the year (sorry).  I will also confess that sharing the words I have written in my own novels with you in class was a powerful experience for me, too.  

Enjoy these videos.  Enjoy the message they convey.  I hope they move you in your heart so you experience that power working in you.  It is magic.  In closing, I wish to share a favorite quote by Markus Zusak with you...
"I have hated words, and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right."

I hope that this year, you will experience both the joy and sorrow of words so that you, too can fully appreciate and experience their power.

~from Mrs. Caraway with love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVY4DeAvnfI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hzgzim5m7oU