Hugo
Dir. Martin Scorsese
I frequently wonder what it’s like to be a child in the world we live in. Some might scoff at this and say how young I am and how I basically grew up in this modern world. But at 26 years old, when I was a kid, we didn’t have cell phones or the internet or 3-D. Animation was still done by hand and a singing, dancing Lion King was enough to keep kids and adults entertained.
Now, it seems as though childhood is loud, brash, and painfully ADHD. Lights flash, robots explode, and everything needs to literally jump off the screen. This brings me to Martin Scorsese’s newest film, Hugo. Based on the young adult novel by Brian Selznick, Hugo tells the story of a young boy who loses his father in a fire and is forced to fend for himself in a Parisian train station. Everyday he watches and observes the lives of those that exist in the station all the while feeling a deep sense of loss and a loss of purpose. He then comes in contact with (I’m careful to not use the word ‘befriend’ because the two are definitely not friends) and young girl and her godfather, an old toymaker with a secret.
Ultimately, Hugo is a rich cinematic experience that touches on themes of loss, responsibility, growing up, and finding out your place in the world. All the while the story unfolds in glorious 3-D. Now, I’ve seen my share of 3-D and there is good, there is bad, and there is woefully unnecessary. When Martin Scorsese makes a movie in 3-D, you see it. You shell out the extra 4 dollars and you see it in 3-D. Above all, Martin Scorsese has made a film that is a love letter to all films and his command of the medium demands you see it the way he intended. The use of 3-D in Hugo creates a world that is deep, and engrossing. It pulls you into the world and creates a sense of wonder and mystery around you. Mythical dragons never fly in your face, swords are never pointed at your nose, but you see deeper into the dangerous, yet common world of the protagonist Mr. Hugo Cabret.
Effects aside, you feel the love and passion for film that Scorsese pours into every minute of the story. For someone who has studied film for years such as myself, I felt a very deep and personal connection to the story he was telling. I wonder, though, that for children who are so used to having their entertainment flashed and crammed down their throats, will they also delight in the film as I have? I think many children will respond to some of the more adult themes of loss and acceptance as well as the central mystery around the metal automaton, but I fear some children will be bored to bits.
For me, however, Hugo was a beguiling, magical journey. One that harkens back to the days when family entertainment could be a simple story about a boy trying to find his way in the world – and the magic of the movies.
Grade: B+
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Puss in Boots
Puss in Boots
The equation for good family entertainment is tricky. Too loud and cutesy will alienate paying parents, too snarky and topical and kids will get bored. What is the happy medium for family films? Hollywood knows a winner on its hands when it generates sequel after sequel to capitalize on that kernel of success. Shrek was such an immediate success that, certainly, parts 2, 3, and 4 would be produced. As the returns started to diminish, executives probably started to panic. I imagine a roundtable session to go something like this: Quick – let’s grab a cute character from the movie and give it a chance in the spotlight. Hmm – Donkey? No (Eddie Murphy is too expensive). Fiona? (Nope – that last Disney princess movie flopped). Uh – howsabout that cat then, you know, the one that talks funny.
And thus Puss in Boots was created.
I admit that when I heard about this movie I rolled my eyes and dismissed it as a cash grab to capitalize on a floundering franchise and, well, it is. But – surprise, surprise, if it isn’t a buoyant, lively, funny, astute cash grab. The premise is familiar to anyone who’s seen the Shrek films, but doesn’t require any prior knowledge. Characters from oft-told fairy tales interact with one another in a twisted, modernist way. Puss (Antonio Banderas) is an anthropomorphized cat that is wrongfully accused of robbing his hometown, all the while working with his old pal Humpty Dumpty (Zach Galifinakis), evading the murderous Jack and Jill (Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris) and wooing a mysterious femme fatale, Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek). Puss’s lively backstory is told as a Spaghetti Western with swordfights, outlaws, and wagon chases. Contrasting this, Puss’s current quest for the Goose that lays golden eggs is a bright, vibrant fairy tale with beanstalks, giants, and one angry mama goose.
Whereas Shrek was about wink wink references for adults, Puss is a rather straightforward action/adventure starring a suave little kitty. The movie is funny without being sarcastic, exciting without being dumb, and just weird enough to distinguish itself from other talking animal pictures. I credit the voice casting with carrying a lot of the film (particularly Banderas and Hayek) as well as an assured, if somewhat heavy hand from director Chris Miller (who co-directed Shrek 3). At times, some of the requisite “lessons” can feel a bit forced and he tells a whopper of a backstory that clocks in at nearly 1/3 of the runtime – even Kitty Softpaws, to whom puss is telling his history, drifts off a bit.
I’m both impressed and a bit wary of the success of Puss in Boots as now movie studios can feel more confident churning out un-original original material (Dreamworks already has its eye on Puss 2); Pixar also has Planes on the schedule for next year (an off-shoot of its popular Cars franchise). How long before we see Slinky Dog: The Movie? It’s true, some of the most successful, both critically and commercially, animated films are sequels (Toy Story 3), but it’s the original material that most excites me. So while I will be waiting in line for How to Train Your Dragon 2, it’s films like next year’s ParaNorman and Wreck-It Ralph (both original ideas) that are marked on my calendar.
Grade for Erica: A-
The equation for good family entertainment is tricky. Too loud and cutesy will alienate paying parents, too snarky and topical and kids will get bored. What is the happy medium for family films? Hollywood knows a winner on its hands when it generates sequel after sequel to capitalize on that kernel of success. Shrek was such an immediate success that, certainly, parts 2, 3, and 4 would be produced. As the returns started to diminish, executives probably started to panic. I imagine a roundtable session to go something like this: Quick – let’s grab a cute character from the movie and give it a chance in the spotlight. Hmm – Donkey? No (Eddie Murphy is too expensive). Fiona? (Nope – that last Disney princess movie flopped). Uh – howsabout that cat then, you know, the one that talks funny.
And thus Puss in Boots was created.
I admit that when I heard about this movie I rolled my eyes and dismissed it as a cash grab to capitalize on a floundering franchise and, well, it is. But – surprise, surprise, if it isn’t a buoyant, lively, funny, astute cash grab. The premise is familiar to anyone who’s seen the Shrek films, but doesn’t require any prior knowledge. Characters from oft-told fairy tales interact with one another in a twisted, modernist way. Puss (Antonio Banderas) is an anthropomorphized cat that is wrongfully accused of robbing his hometown, all the while working with his old pal Humpty Dumpty (Zach Galifinakis), evading the murderous Jack and Jill (Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris) and wooing a mysterious femme fatale, Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek). Puss’s lively backstory is told as a Spaghetti Western with swordfights, outlaws, and wagon chases. Contrasting this, Puss’s current quest for the Goose that lays golden eggs is a bright, vibrant fairy tale with beanstalks, giants, and one angry mama goose.
Whereas Shrek was about wink wink references for adults, Puss is a rather straightforward action/adventure starring a suave little kitty. The movie is funny without being sarcastic, exciting without being dumb, and just weird enough to distinguish itself from other talking animal pictures. I credit the voice casting with carrying a lot of the film (particularly Banderas and Hayek) as well as an assured, if somewhat heavy hand from director Chris Miller (who co-directed Shrek 3). At times, some of the requisite “lessons” can feel a bit forced and he tells a whopper of a backstory that clocks in at nearly 1/3 of the runtime – even Kitty Softpaws, to whom puss is telling his history, drifts off a bit.
I’m both impressed and a bit wary of the success of Puss in Boots as now movie studios can feel more confident churning out un-original original material (Dreamworks already has its eye on Puss 2); Pixar also has Planes on the schedule for next year (an off-shoot of its popular Cars franchise). How long before we see Slinky Dog: The Movie? It’s true, some of the most successful, both critically and commercially, animated films are sequels (Toy Story 3), but it’s the original material that most excites me. So while I will be waiting in line for How to Train Your Dragon 2, it’s films like next year’s ParaNorman and Wreck-It Ralph (both original ideas) that are marked on my calendar.
Grade for Erica: A-
Friday, September 30, 2011
Late Movie Review
Contagion
Dir. Stephen Soderbergh
Contagion is not Outbreak. Though Contagion does share the same basic premise as the 1996 virus action film starring Dustin Hoffman and Rene Russo, the two movies are actually quite divergent. Whereas Outbreak was an explosive action movie hiding behind a virus, Contagion is an astute commentary on modern social culture…hiding behind a virus.
The film opens with Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow) already infected. We don’t know with what or to what extreme, but the profuse sweating and flush skin are dead giveaways. We’ve all been in that sort of situation; felt sort of crummy so we decided to wait it out, drink some tea, stay in from work in our bathrobe and see what happens. Unfortunately, a mere three days after infection, poor Ms. Paltrow is writhing on the ground, foaming at the mouth and, well, dead. Then, the infection spreads. Through surprisingly accessible scientific speak, we are told the virus spreads from any form of contact. Picking up a glass, passing along a cell phone, a hug, a kiss, anything short of looking at someone will pass it along. From here, the movie diverges into multiple story arcs. One stays with Paltrow’s grieving widower (Matt Damon) as he tries to come to grips with his loss while protecting his remaining daughter. Scientist Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet) is dispatched by CDC bigwig Dr. Ellis Cheever (Lawrence Fishbourne) to Minneapolis to discover the origin of Beth’s disease. Meanwhile, World Health Organization viruologist Dr. Leonora Orantes (Marion Cotillard) is sent to Hong Kong to see if she can find clues in the last place Beth was seen healthy. All the while, batty blogger Alan Krumweide (Jude Law) is spreading dangerous theories on how the government is keeping an antidote simply for profit.
The stories ricochet off one another, but most of the characters interact with only the two or three people in their storyline. Matt Damon’s character never even knows that Marion Cotillard’s character exists. The cast is admittedly large and these types of hyperlink narratives (a phrase referencing the multiple-storyline structure popularized by Mexican director Alejandro Gonzalez Inaritu) are tricky. Usually the audience becomes invested in one or two stories and the others feel underdeveloped and, certainly, some of the narratives here are more engaging than the other, but thanks to the strong acting by most all of the cast, we remain invested in their storylines. Jennifer Ehle as a driven scientist trying to find a cure is a standout for the deep sense of concern and duty she conveys in her simplest of glances.
I think Contagion stands as a very powerful movie for its honest approach to social disintegration. In Outbreak, the virus was Hollywood action. Dustin Hoffman must sprint to find the monkey that will save Rene Russo’s life! Earth-shattering bombs destroy an infected village in an orgy or pyrotechnics. Yet the virus was never contended with on a human level. Contagion, on the other hand, generates tension and, arguably, horror in its genuine approach to the degradation of society. When you look at modern societal horrors such as the riots in London, the earthquakes in Haiti or the floods of Japan, they don’t arrive with explosions or singular heroes dashing in to save the day, but escalate so slowly and severely that the ordinary citizen can’t help but be swept in. Contagion also makes the very strong connection to hysteria and our fascination with social networking. Jude Law’s Alan Krumweide takes to his video blog to champion the homeopathic quasi-cure forsythia while decrying the corruption of government and its commoditization of its citizens. Rather than dismiss Krumweide’s claims, the public labels him a profit and the movie makes it clear that these sort of polarizing claims can be as quick and dangerous (if not more so) than the disease itself. Ultimately, and I think again what points to the movie’s honesty, no one person saves the day and even the heroes make bad choices that could have saved millions of lives.
Contagion is an intelligent and socially relevant film that, thankfully, eschews explosions for real drama.
Grade for Erica: A-
Dir. Stephen Soderbergh
Contagion is not Outbreak. Though Contagion does share the same basic premise as the 1996 virus action film starring Dustin Hoffman and Rene Russo, the two movies are actually quite divergent. Whereas Outbreak was an explosive action movie hiding behind a virus, Contagion is an astute commentary on modern social culture…hiding behind a virus.
The film opens with Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow) already infected. We don’t know with what or to what extreme, but the profuse sweating and flush skin are dead giveaways. We’ve all been in that sort of situation; felt sort of crummy so we decided to wait it out, drink some tea, stay in from work in our bathrobe and see what happens. Unfortunately, a mere three days after infection, poor Ms. Paltrow is writhing on the ground, foaming at the mouth and, well, dead. Then, the infection spreads. Through surprisingly accessible scientific speak, we are told the virus spreads from any form of contact. Picking up a glass, passing along a cell phone, a hug, a kiss, anything short of looking at someone will pass it along. From here, the movie diverges into multiple story arcs. One stays with Paltrow’s grieving widower (Matt Damon) as he tries to come to grips with his loss while protecting his remaining daughter. Scientist Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet) is dispatched by CDC bigwig Dr. Ellis Cheever (Lawrence Fishbourne) to Minneapolis to discover the origin of Beth’s disease. Meanwhile, World Health Organization viruologist Dr. Leonora Orantes (Marion Cotillard) is sent to Hong Kong to see if she can find clues in the last place Beth was seen healthy. All the while, batty blogger Alan Krumweide (Jude Law) is spreading dangerous theories on how the government is keeping an antidote simply for profit.
The stories ricochet off one another, but most of the characters interact with only the two or three people in their storyline. Matt Damon’s character never even knows that Marion Cotillard’s character exists. The cast is admittedly large and these types of hyperlink narratives (a phrase referencing the multiple-storyline structure popularized by Mexican director Alejandro Gonzalez Inaritu) are tricky. Usually the audience becomes invested in one or two stories and the others feel underdeveloped and, certainly, some of the narratives here are more engaging than the other, but thanks to the strong acting by most all of the cast, we remain invested in their storylines. Jennifer Ehle as a driven scientist trying to find a cure is a standout for the deep sense of concern and duty she conveys in her simplest of glances.
I think Contagion stands as a very powerful movie for its honest approach to social disintegration. In Outbreak, the virus was Hollywood action. Dustin Hoffman must sprint to find the monkey that will save Rene Russo’s life! Earth-shattering bombs destroy an infected village in an orgy or pyrotechnics. Yet the virus was never contended with on a human level. Contagion, on the other hand, generates tension and, arguably, horror in its genuine approach to the degradation of society. When you look at modern societal horrors such as the riots in London, the earthquakes in Haiti or the floods of Japan, they don’t arrive with explosions or singular heroes dashing in to save the day, but escalate so slowly and severely that the ordinary citizen can’t help but be swept in. Contagion also makes the very strong connection to hysteria and our fascination with social networking. Jude Law’s Alan Krumweide takes to his video blog to champion the homeopathic quasi-cure forsythia while decrying the corruption of government and its commoditization of its citizens. Rather than dismiss Krumweide’s claims, the public labels him a profit and the movie makes it clear that these sort of polarizing claims can be as quick and dangerous (if not more so) than the disease itself. Ultimately, and I think again what points to the movie’s honesty, no one person saves the day and even the heroes make bad choices that could have saved millions of lives.
Contagion is an intelligent and socially relevant film that, thankfully, eschews explosions for real drama.
Grade for Erica: A-
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
Genetically enhanced apes revolt and run amuck thanks to geneticist, James Franco. The notion alone is enough to elicit snickers and eye rolls. The entire premise of the Planet of the Apes franchise is entrenched in Sci-Fi giggledom. Humans dressed up in simian makeup, riding horses and subjugating primitive human-culture led by Charlton Heston is best known as kitschy, 60s camp. Hollywood most recently took a stab at a remake with Tim Burton’s (mostly) straightforward, if oddly generic, retooling in 2001. Wisely eschewing continuity with Burton’s film, Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a 100% reboot, starting from scratch and rewriting the primate history as a sort of cautionary tale of a scientist’s noble intentions gone, well, ape.
The film builds with a restrained attention to pace. There are very few mindless action scenes, no on runs through crowded streets jumping on cars or dodging traffic. Instead, the relationship between Franco’s Will and his chimp/adopted child Caesar. As Will continues to develop a cure to his father’s Alzheimer’s, his bond with Caesar grows. Eventually, due to a rather violent accident, Caesar is shipped to a primate holding facility where the seeds of revolution are planted.
Eventually, the premise washed over me and took me away, in part due to the nifty CG ape, Caesar. Filmed using motion capture and brought to life by Andy Serkis, Caesar is one of the strongest characters in the movie. Alas, as the premise builds, the apes finally attack on the Golden gate bridge. The action felt at once overdue and underwhelming. They jump, they climb, they YELL, they throw things. The humans shoot their guns, they sling their batons. I didn’t know who to root for. The apes in revolt or the dumb humans – knowing the trajectory of the franchise, you know the outcome before the movie even starts.
Of course, a new franchise is in mind and the film has a rather clever way of setting up the next film. Rise was made on a (relatively) modest budget, but given the financial success I’m guessing the subsequent films will receive a bigger budget. This usually equates to more apes, more fights, more scope, more scale, but probably will lose the emphasis on relationships that makes this movie so successful.
The film builds with a restrained attention to pace. There are very few mindless action scenes, no on runs through crowded streets jumping on cars or dodging traffic. Instead, the relationship between Franco’s Will and his chimp/adopted child Caesar. As Will continues to develop a cure to his father’s Alzheimer’s, his bond with Caesar grows. Eventually, due to a rather violent accident, Caesar is shipped to a primate holding facility where the seeds of revolution are planted.
Eventually, the premise washed over me and took me away, in part due to the nifty CG ape, Caesar. Filmed using motion capture and brought to life by Andy Serkis, Caesar is one of the strongest characters in the movie. Alas, as the premise builds, the apes finally attack on the Golden gate bridge. The action felt at once overdue and underwhelming. They jump, they climb, they YELL, they throw things. The humans shoot their guns, they sling their batons. I didn’t know who to root for. The apes in revolt or the dumb humans – knowing the trajectory of the franchise, you know the outcome before the movie even starts.
Of course, a new franchise is in mind and the film has a rather clever way of setting up the next film. Rise was made on a (relatively) modest budget, but given the financial success I’m guessing the subsequent films will receive a bigger budget. This usually equates to more apes, more fights, more scope, more scale, but probably will lose the emphasis on relationships that makes this movie so successful.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Captain America: The First Avenger
The summer of Super Heroes continues. Quick refresher: Thor, X-Men, Green Lantern. Some hits, some misses, some so mediocre I can’t remember what happened during them. And now we have the First Avenger – technically speaking I think Iron Man beat Cap to the punch but that’s neither here nor there.
Steve Rogers is a literal 90-pound weakling. He’s small and frail, but scrappy as hell. He may look like you can snap his neck but he has determination like no other! It’s that spark that draws Dr. Erskine to enlist Rogers in an experimental program turning him into a Supersoldier. Soon, a villain known as Red Skull appears and threatens our freedom – not if Captain America has anything to do about it.
The concept itself is nothing far off-base from your usual superhero pages. Captain America, however, has a different feel to it that sets it apart from other films in the genre. Everytime I see a superhero movie, I expect to be wowed from start to finish with explosions and effects. I practically crave having my breath taken away – yet Captain America has the plotting and staging of a smaller film. There are explosions and fights and computer generated effects out the wazzoo, that’s for sure, but there is also time talk, to plan, to reflect and to interact. There really is no big aw-gee setpiece that knocks your socks off, but instead the action happens in fits and starts. When you adjust your expectations accordingly, you’ll find a more rewarding experience.
Joe Johnston, who most recently directed the gory, effects-laden Wolfman, has imbued the film with an old-school 1940s feel. Had he not balanced the tone between campy and earnest, the whole film could have been and slipshodden, patriotic mess. Making sure the audience really feels like they are in the 40s, however, makes Rogers’s unwavering dedication to his country more digestible.
Chris Evans, in the title role, has a very wholesome, steely all-American look that makes him perfect for the role. He pants, he runs, he smacks bad guys with his shield with aplomb. Hayley Atwell as his British female partner is plucky and feisty and does her best to not be a damsel in distress. Hugo Weaving, however, steals the show whenever his red-skulled Johann Schmidt struts on screen. Weaving has a way of taking his dialogue and coating it in molasses – drawing out words and growling them with frightening menace.
Going into Captain America I had reservations: a grown muscled man draped in the America flag throwing a red, white and blue shield at Nazis? A bald, walking skull dipped in Firetruck red paint? Luckily, my fears were assuaged by the care and respect and touch of winking wit in the film.
The sequels have been all but guaranteed. In fact, production on The Avengers, the Marvel super team that includes Iron Man, Thor, Hulk and the aforementioned Captain, is well underway under the guidance of Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon. It’s hard to say whether future films starring Cap will be successful – we all had high hopes for Iron Man 2…until it came out. I, for one, will be crossing my fingers and holding my breath until May 2012 rolls around and we see if Marvel’s efforts pay off.
Steve Rogers is a literal 90-pound weakling. He’s small and frail, but scrappy as hell. He may look like you can snap his neck but he has determination like no other! It’s that spark that draws Dr. Erskine to enlist Rogers in an experimental program turning him into a Supersoldier. Soon, a villain known as Red Skull appears and threatens our freedom – not if Captain America has anything to do about it.
The concept itself is nothing far off-base from your usual superhero pages. Captain America, however, has a different feel to it that sets it apart from other films in the genre. Everytime I see a superhero movie, I expect to be wowed from start to finish with explosions and effects. I practically crave having my breath taken away – yet Captain America has the plotting and staging of a smaller film. There are explosions and fights and computer generated effects out the wazzoo, that’s for sure, but there is also time talk, to plan, to reflect and to interact. There really is no big aw-gee setpiece that knocks your socks off, but instead the action happens in fits and starts. When you adjust your expectations accordingly, you’ll find a more rewarding experience.
Joe Johnston, who most recently directed the gory, effects-laden Wolfman, has imbued the film with an old-school 1940s feel. Had he not balanced the tone between campy and earnest, the whole film could have been and slipshodden, patriotic mess. Making sure the audience really feels like they are in the 40s, however, makes Rogers’s unwavering dedication to his country more digestible.
Chris Evans, in the title role, has a very wholesome, steely all-American look that makes him perfect for the role. He pants, he runs, he smacks bad guys with his shield with aplomb. Hayley Atwell as his British female partner is plucky and feisty and does her best to not be a damsel in distress. Hugo Weaving, however, steals the show whenever his red-skulled Johann Schmidt struts on screen. Weaving has a way of taking his dialogue and coating it in molasses – drawing out words and growling them with frightening menace.
Going into Captain America I had reservations: a grown muscled man draped in the America flag throwing a red, white and blue shield at Nazis? A bald, walking skull dipped in Firetruck red paint? Luckily, my fears were assuaged by the care and respect and touch of winking wit in the film.
The sequels have been all but guaranteed. In fact, production on The Avengers, the Marvel super team that includes Iron Man, Thor, Hulk and the aforementioned Captain, is well underway under the guidance of Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon. It’s hard to say whether future films starring Cap will be successful – we all had high hopes for Iron Man 2…until it came out. I, for one, will be crossing my fingers and holding my breath until May 2012 rolls around and we see if Marvel’s efforts pay off.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
New Year
Here we are -- the new year. After so much consternation involving lost/gained positions, I'm back.
Same school, same job, different students.
I recently stumbled upon my behavior notebook from my first year of teaching. It's a small, brown and green notebook that promises it is 100% post-consumer recycled materials. Inoffensive and unassuming, one would never guess the words it held inside. Upon flipping through, I notice names and actions scrawled in blue and red ink. Rxxx stole pencils. Rxxx punched a student. Dxxxx stabbed a student with a pencil. Txxx started a fight. Axxx ran away from the classroom. The ink trickles down the page like a tear-face, worn from sitting in my flooded basement over the summer.
I was about to throw out the soiled tome, but I stopped. Right about where I listed all the things Rxxx did in one day (two pages front and back of behaviors) and decided to keep the book. It's a reminder of a world that is out there, a few miles south of the school I'm in. It's a reminder of what I went through and how far it took me.
I wonder where those students are. If they continue to be passed through the system, and there's nothing to prevent this, they should be entering 3rd grade this year. I wonder how many of them made it. I'm sure many moved, transferred or disappeared, but my mind still thinks of them.
Same school, same job, different students.
I recently stumbled upon my behavior notebook from my first year of teaching. It's a small, brown and green notebook that promises it is 100% post-consumer recycled materials. Inoffensive and unassuming, one would never guess the words it held inside. Upon flipping through, I notice names and actions scrawled in blue and red ink. Rxxx stole pencils. Rxxx punched a student. Dxxxx stabbed a student with a pencil. Txxx started a fight. Axxx ran away from the classroom. The ink trickles down the page like a tear-face, worn from sitting in my flooded basement over the summer.
I was about to throw out the soiled tome, but I stopped. Right about where I listed all the things Rxxx did in one day (two pages front and back of behaviors) and decided to keep the book. It's a reminder of a world that is out there, a few miles south of the school I'm in. It's a reminder of what I went through and how far it took me.
I wonder where those students are. If they continue to be passed through the system, and there's nothing to prevent this, they should be entering 3rd grade this year. I wonder how many of them made it. I'm sure many moved, transferred or disappeared, but my mind still thinks of them.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The Spectrum of Emotions pt. 1
Buckle up ladies and gentlemen -- this is going to be a long one.
Let's start with the basics. It's the end of the year -- officially. Rooms are cleaned out, movies are shown, treats are distributed. The warm stench of humidity and rancid milk can only mean rising temperatures and lowered investment. It's easy to trick younger students into continuing, smelly stickers and math games can get you by -- it's the older kids that require more finesse.
My kids made it, even better, with significant gains! Who would have thought that after the choas of last year I'd bring students to be on-level with their peers.
The end of the year was a flurry of activity compounded with the oppressive heat and humidity. All in all, my time at my school has been both a blessing and a curse.
First, the positives. I really felt as if I had been welcomed into the community. A community that nourished good educators and was very student-centric. I felt privileged, for the most part, to work with my peers and in turn felt appreciated. It was great to see a school that was highly functioning in the Chicago Public School district despite the massive debacle that was happening several levels up (more on this in part 2).
For the negatives. It seems as though my time at my school may have ended and not by my own hands. This is one of the most infuriating developments within my short tenure as an educator. I remember a year and a half ago thinking that I could never teach and that I did not want to teach. I was exhausted and drained and felt like teaching was not for me. Fast forward to a year at a supportive school where I was able to make a difference for a handful of students. I felt and saw the difference in their lives, and with that a difference in my own. I truly felt like I could make a difference and, interestingly enough, truly wanted to continue to do so.
Now, it seems, like the choice to positively affect student achievement has been forced from my hands. As for the reasons why and my anger with these decisions, I will save that for part 2. Suffice it to say that I will most likely be evicted from teaching in a classroom.
After so thoroughly convincing myself that I am able to make a difference in students' lives, unfortunately I'm not able to do that this coming year.
It's bittersweet, after all -- these two years in Teach for America. I had anticipated growing and evolving as a human being and certainly I did, but in ways I could never expect. I have been pushed to the very limits and been rewarded beyond my imagination. I think about my students like Faith and Randall and Daeshaun that are lost and behind and, most likely, will continue to be as such. I think about students like Deondre and Duaa and Zain that have been put on a different path in life and will continue to succeed.
It's the bitter and the sweet that truly make life a decadent meal. The bitter sting of defeat and remorse offset by the sweet sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I think about all the things I never new about children and education and about myself that I now have such a firm knowledge of.
I've discovered passion and fire that I never dreamed I'd have in me.
There is cause to celebrate, as this era comes to a close -- yet the abyss that lies before me is a grand chasm of unknown. It's somewhat exhilarating not knowing where I will be or what will happen and I hope to experience the same feelings of growth and accomplishments soon.
Let's start with the basics. It's the end of the year -- officially. Rooms are cleaned out, movies are shown, treats are distributed. The warm stench of humidity and rancid milk can only mean rising temperatures and lowered investment. It's easy to trick younger students into continuing, smelly stickers and math games can get you by -- it's the older kids that require more finesse.
My kids made it, even better, with significant gains! Who would have thought that after the choas of last year I'd bring students to be on-level with their peers.
The end of the year was a flurry of activity compounded with the oppressive heat and humidity. All in all, my time at my school has been both a blessing and a curse.
First, the positives. I really felt as if I had been welcomed into the community. A community that nourished good educators and was very student-centric. I felt privileged, for the most part, to work with my peers and in turn felt appreciated. It was great to see a school that was highly functioning in the Chicago Public School district despite the massive debacle that was happening several levels up (more on this in part 2).
For the negatives. It seems as though my time at my school may have ended and not by my own hands. This is one of the most infuriating developments within my short tenure as an educator. I remember a year and a half ago thinking that I could never teach and that I did not want to teach. I was exhausted and drained and felt like teaching was not for me. Fast forward to a year at a supportive school where I was able to make a difference for a handful of students. I felt and saw the difference in their lives, and with that a difference in my own. I truly felt like I could make a difference and, interestingly enough, truly wanted to continue to do so.
Now, it seems, like the choice to positively affect student achievement has been forced from my hands. As for the reasons why and my anger with these decisions, I will save that for part 2. Suffice it to say that I will most likely be evicted from teaching in a classroom.
After so thoroughly convincing myself that I am able to make a difference in students' lives, unfortunately I'm not able to do that this coming year.
It's bittersweet, after all -- these two years in Teach for America. I had anticipated growing and evolving as a human being and certainly I did, but in ways I could never expect. I have been pushed to the very limits and been rewarded beyond my imagination. I think about my students like Faith and Randall and Daeshaun that are lost and behind and, most likely, will continue to be as such. I think about students like Deondre and Duaa and Zain that have been put on a different path in life and will continue to succeed.
It's the bitter and the sweet that truly make life a decadent meal. The bitter sting of defeat and remorse offset by the sweet sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I think about all the things I never new about children and education and about myself that I now have such a firm knowledge of.
I've discovered passion and fire that I never dreamed I'd have in me.
There is cause to celebrate, as this era comes to a close -- yet the abyss that lies before me is a grand chasm of unknown. It's somewhat exhilarating not knowing where I will be or what will happen and I hope to experience the same feelings of growth and accomplishments soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)