Let's Argue.

Julie Rapinat

Argument Paper

Professor Sieben

In recent decades, as immigration activity to developed countries has increased, greater numbers of students in the U.S. are coming from homes where the primary language spoken at home is not English (Slavin & Cheung p.247).  Concurrently, English-language learners’ (ELLs) experiences in the classroom have transformed in accordance with the ever-changing trends in state and federal mandated educational policy.  While researchers and other active members of education grapple with ways to successfully educate ELLs in the classroom, there is concern over whether the narrow skills demanded by current federal programs are creating negative effects on ELLs.  The integral problem is that educators and policy makers fail to sincerely acknowledge or utilize a student’s native language while attempting to teach him/her English, which only inhibits efficient and substantial learning.

The No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act of 2001 created an educational environment that revolved specifically around student performance on English standardized tests, providing severe consequences to schools and districts if students, even those categorized as ELLs, fail to delineate progress (Pacheco, p. 292).  Evidence delineates that schools directly depend on the success of ELLs and because of their lack of progressing skills in reading especially, these schools are unable to adequately meet their yearly progress goals (Slavin et al. p. 248).  More importantly, Slavin et al. expresses that American society cannot provide “equal opportunity” for its students if the education of immigrants and the children of immigrants cannot be successfully accomplished (248).  Initiated by policies such as NCLB, the current trend in educational policy reflects a response to fact that the United States is considered “at risk” educationally speaking.  Initiatives such as Proposition 227 in California, which eliminated the few programs that offered ELLs instruction and support in their primary languages, completely transformed the landscape for education of ELLs.  No Child Left Behind only intensified the demands for the “English-only” framework for ELLs in regards to the pressured testing environment (Pacheco, p. 294).  While the phonics based skills accentuated in a standards driven classroom may adequately prepare ELLs for exams, they are certainly not adequate for long-term reading success.  Moreover, this kind of approach to teaching and learning completely neglects their unique language in the classroom setting (Pacheco, p.294).  All of these governmental changes and policies lead educators and researchers to question the role of the native language in English language learners’ instruction (Slavin et al. 248).

Legislation is consistently being altered in an effort to make up for the fact that schools across the U.S. are failing to meet the needs of their ELLs.  As of October 2011, New York City passed new legislation that vows to better provide ELLs serious educational opportunities addressing not only academic and linguistic needs, but cultural needs as well (Rodriguez, “Corrective Action Plan”).  This new plan also works to get parents involved in the education of ELLs by providing them with their legal right of choosing the program for their children: bilingual program or an English-only driven E.S.L. program.  The plan’s forward initiatives also promise that 125 new bilingual programs will be created and developed over the next three years (Rodriguez, “Corrective Action Plan”).   

Federal policies however still work to limit instruction in students’ native language (Slavin et al. p. 248).  The standardized testing environment has pressured teachers to consistently use English regardless of the diverse needs of their students and their English language abilities (Adam, “The Changing Face…”).  Yet research reveals that successful ELL practices revolve around giving students the choice to utilize their own language in writing activities, conversations about texts, and other literacy activities.  Students that are given the opportunity to understand and make sense of what they are learning in their own native language significantly facilitates greater success (Adam, “The Changing Face…”).    

Studies reveal how in bilingual reading groups, students were able to maintain qualitatively richer discussions as the bilingual teacher was able to utilize higher order discussion questions with the help of students’ native language (Pacheco, 295).  When you compare this to English-only reading groups, it becomes obvious how simplified the discussions become as a result of the developing and limited English language skills ELL students maintain.  Pacheco attests to the fact that,

This research raises concerns about the long-term consequences of ELL’s schooling circumstances.  That is, their limited participation in deep meaning making potentially extends their construction as struggling readers since, in policy and practice, they are denied substantial opportunities to develop the sense-making capabilities they will need across their academic trajectories. (p.295)

The role of English versus native language in the education of ELLs has become an integral point of debate as schools and educators feel the pressure from curriculum standards and English standardized assessments.  The mounting pressure of test performance has completely altered how educators determine the academic needs of ELLs. 

Bilingual education opponents uphold the idea that ELLs should only receive education in English and believe that students’ L1 negatively affects second language acquisition (Lopez et al, p. 124).  They argue that instruction that utilizes students’ native language will only interfere and delay English language acquisition; the more time educators spend on strictly English reading and writing, the more a student will learn English (Slavin et al. p. 249).  However, the theory behind two-way bilingual education (TWBE) is “rooted in the interdependent relationship between the L1 and the L2,” in other words “the use of the L1 is not detrimental to the development of spoken English.  In fact, it may even accelerate L2 acquisition and the development of academic skills in the L2” (Lopez et al, p.124).  Programs that support TWBE assert that the establishment of the importance of both languages contributes to the cultural integrity students experience: developing L2 while simultaneously enhancing L1 skills.  Without native language instruction, English language learners have potential to lose skills that can prove to be so economically and socially valuable in today’s globally connected society (Slavin et al. p.249).  According to Lopez et al, proponents of this theory are in congruence with Cummins’ paradigm:

(a)   there is a transfer of knowledge, skills, and processes across languages, (b) the development of L1 literacy skills facilitates the acquisition of academic skills in the L2, and, hence (c) proficiency in L2 is a function of the level of L1 proficiency at the time when instruction in L2 begins (124).

Furthermore, studies also indicate that students that are recipients of TWBE perform just as well as, or better than other groups of students who experience English-only or transitional bilingual education (TBE) programs (Lopez et al, p.124). 

“Reading in a second language (L2) is not a monolingual event; L2 readers have access to their first language (L1) as they read, and many use it as a strategy to help comprehend an L2 text” (Upton et al. p.469).  English language learners consistently utilize the L1 during reading comprehension activities.  Cognitively speaking, the L2 user does not effectively tune out the L1 while processing the L2; it is instead constantly accessible (Upton et al. p. 470).  Thus, Upton et al. delineates how a teacher cannot ignore the fact that the L2 learner is constantly accessing his/her L1 and any L2 knowledge attained is essentially completely connected with L1 knowledge (p. 470).  It is clear how English language learners utilize their native language in that during their attempts to comprehend the L2, they directly access their L1.  Learning an L2 is not a “monolingual event,” L2 learners use the L1 “to think about and process information they are receiving in the L2” (Upton et al. p. 487).  Slavin et al. also attest to the fact that if teachers utilize the native language for reading instruction,

“rather than confusing children, as some have feared, reading instruction in a familiar language may serve as a bridge to success in English, as phonemic awareness, decoding, sound blending and generic comprehension strategies clearly transfer among languages that use phonetic orthographies such as Spanish, French, and English” (274).

                  Clearly, upon analyzing research focusing on second language development, the utilization of a student’s native language is arguably essential for substantial growth and development of the second language.  However, recent educational policies and programs generally neglect to address the importance of the native language in the learning process of an English Language Learner.  It is evident however that long-term reading success and literacy in English (an ELL’s L2) depends on the student’s ability to utilize his/her native language in an effort to simultaneously develop skills in both the L1 and the L2.  We cannot continue to ignore these facts if we want to offer all of our students an opportunity to be adequately educated.   Acknowledging the necessity of a student’s native language for L2 development should be more than just an educational priority, but a priority for a country that claims to value the significance of our diverse cultures and languages.  Educational environments need to be more in congruence with this ideal and can be if we allow and promote the use of native languages with our ELL students. 

To eat turkey and give thanks.

I am thankful for my tiny room that only fits my big bed with orange and purple mismatched sheets.  I am thankful for my open door at night letting in the cool noisy and calming new york city breeze during this very warm and enjoyable (and perhaps scary?) autumn.  I, in turn, must be thankful for my random mysterious bug bites.  I am thankful for my poorly painted bright blue wall, which Arlena (my mom if you haven't read my earlier posts), says looks like an old school new york city bathroom blue color.  (I am thankful that painting is not going to be my career...I am terrible and still don't understand painter's tape).  I am thankful for my Arlena's overly blunt honesty that I often cannot begin to understand.  I am thankful that I have such a beautiful mom amazing enough to cook an entire thanksgiving dinner with five different vegetables and homemade cranberry sauce for two people.  I am thankful for organic juicy turkeys from a farm out east.  I am thankful for good wine and cozy gold beeswax candles.  I am thankful for left-over coconut pie in the mornings...and for leftover turkey after an eight hour waitressing shift (eaten cold of course against Arlena's wishes). 
I am thankful for my small sometimes dysfunctional family and thankful for my dreams of a big family with may kids and pups.  I am thankful for my sometimes painful past and for my dear friends who have illuminated the beauty of families that can and do work effortlessly.  I am thankful for my love for my beloved black labrador mutt in heaven and thankful for the day that I can adopt another to call my own. 
I am thankful for good people, genuine good people.  I am thankful for these good souls that I have met in New York in Europe in the Middle East in Africa and for all of those I have yet to meet in my travels.  I am thankful for those that inspire me to live humbly...those living hoping to simply make things better for someone else. 
I am thankful that I have an opportunity to express my thanks and for my words.  I am thankful for imagination and stories and books and philosophy and wisdom and teachers and young kids who want to learn and those who don't know they want to learn yet who will challenge me all of my life.  I am thankful for then and now and tomorrow and you and me. 
Give thanks, cheers. 

In Response to Stip's World

Dear Alexa,

So this in response to your CST post which I somehow missed...being that you know me pretty well and are one of the two friends that I have since starting this English major thing a few years ago, it comes as no surprise to you that similarly, I did next to nothing to prepare for the exam.  Granted, I assumed that experiencing two full semesters of Anton, how could we not be prepared for any exam questioning our expertise of English language/literature.  When I think about it however, it makes all the sense in the world that the genuine knowledge that we gained from any worthy professor like Anton would in fact not prepare us for such exam since everything we know and love about these professors goes against what these bullshit exams live by. 
With that off my chest... just as you, Mike and I have endlessly discussed, no test or anything "standardized" will dictate how well you or I will teach.  I love how Mike wrote that it is really more about character (thanks for throwing me into that category btw, haha) than anything else.  The way you teach and the way that I teach will by no means be remotely similar, yet that does not mean that we will not find our own successful vibe in the classroom.  What does a multiple choice test asking you to read pie charts and write an essay all of us would expect our high school students to be able to write actually assess?  The only thing that it assesses is whether or not you are willing to spend about 300 bucks to get certified, thanks New York state! 
Anyway, if we fail...well it would be almost funny, maybe hilarious until we realize we have to sit in a chair for another three hours trying to figure out what New York state wants to hear from its future teachers. 
Cheers to (hopefully) never having to take a standardized test again!  Now let's figure out a way to make that happen for our future students....?

-Jules.

Real Life Decision?

I decided within the past week that I am going to apply for the Peace Corps.  I am not sure if my timing or my intentions or my perceptions of what it will be like before, during, and after the experience are at all accurate, yet one thing that I am certain of is that I have to figure out a way to get my manager of three months to write me a solid recommendation letter because applying is an absolute must.  I am well aware of the fact that I cannot definitively make even the most mundane decisions on a day-to-day basis (just another pleasant nuance of Julie) yet it almost frightens me how sure I am about this particular new endeavor of mine. 
Naturally my mind starts to race about this...what if I don't get accepted?  How embarrassed would I be?  What is the interview process going to be like?  What country would they want to put me in?  The most intimidating potential question that I cannot seem to get out of my head however is what if somehow the world aligns and I get offered a "real job" for next year and have to make a decision between the Peace Corps and a "real life" job.  In my head I know that there is nothing more "real" about life than the experience that I would get out of the Peace Corps, but I know that the pressure from "real life" responsibility and my inherent desire to get my English teaching career started will definitely create a painful internal conflict. 
All of that aside, how could I say no to devoting two years of my life to a cause outside of anything that I can even imagine comprehending at this point in my life?  I could potentially work to enhance the education, health, agriculture, and essentially the lives of countless individuals that I do not even know yet; while at the same time gaining fluency in a new language, expanding my 'weltanschauung' tenfold, and meeting a ton of amazing people willing to spend time and energy and life all for someone and something else.  What is more "bon vivant" than that?  Remind me to read this post if I make it past the first interview. Cheers.

Some things Arlena never does...

My mother never forgets to let me know how much she loves me.  My mother Arlene, or Arlena if you know that she spent her 20s in Germany and was called Arlena for ten years of her life, is the most amazing woman that I know.  My mother has raised my brother and me by herself for the past fifteen years and she would not have wanted it any other way.  While my mother was growing up, she never had a real mother figure because her own mother was an abusive alcoholic.  Since experiencing such a demeaning childhood, she always knew that that having her own kids to love would be something that she absolutely had to do in her life.  My mother never forgets to tell my brother and me that there is nothing that she wanted more in her life than having her own children to love and to raise. 
My mother never lets me down and has worked extremely hard all of her life to be the beautiful person that she is...working several jobs through college to pay for it (since her own mother told her she would never go), moving to Germany all by herself and learning the language so she could be a better teacher there, getting her Master's degree with two little kids at home to take care of...the list goes on.  While my mother never forgets to remind me how important it is to work hard, she also never forgets to remind me how important it is to play hard.  Arlena is well on her way to 60 and she has more energy to have a good time than half of my 22 year old friends. 
I don't even know what or where I would be without Arlena and I don't think I want to know.  I hope that my mother never forgets that. 

"No Passengers"

Since moving into the city and still commuting to Adelphi three times a week and going to Brooklyn to do observations twice a week and exploring areas of Manhattan on the weekends, to say that I am on the train/subway a lot is an understatement.  Usually when I tell people of my current situation in response to, "So what are you doing with your life now?" they usually meet my explanation of my train riding with, "Oh that really sucks."  To be blunt, paying for the train is probably the one thing I do not enjoy about the commute and it still beats filling up on overpriced gas (although I really do miss my Turkish friend at the gas station). 
I remember last year when Kyle Dargan came into my Contemporary Poetry class to do a reading with us (awesome) he was talking about the interesting phenomenon that is trains/subways.  He was talking about how once in a subway for example, you enter this vortex of space that you share with countless random people, which seemingly operates outside the constraints of time and other real life factors.  For the time that you occupy that subway, that is your community; all aware that you are essentially unaware of what is happening elsewhere...cell phones don't even work.  You trust the subway to bring you exactly where you need to go and trust that the people you share the space with will abide by the unwritten subway rules, even the guy doing back-flips in the middle of the car to try and get a few bucks somehow abides by these "rules."  You occupy a space that you call your own, a small seat in the third car,  yet the community of riders is so extraordinarily vast.  People watching is totally acceptable and arguably promoted as a subway "rule," yet conversing with strangers is few and far between.  I do love the random conversations you can end up having during these rides on the train/subway.  They are so rare that I know that there's definitely a story every time I've had such random conversation.
Most of the time however I love just sitting and reading or listening to music or playing with my phone and enjoying one of the few moments during the day where I let myself relax enough to think about nothing or think about everything.  I love having a designated amount of time to just chill before I go to school and am reminded how confused I am about life and what I am doing with it.  My train riding and subway riding have replaced the shower as the number one place where I get the most thinking done and for me this is an absolutely necessary part of "bon vivant."  Appreciate the moments you have to be with yourself and your thoughts alone.  Riding the subway and trains with different people everyday reminds me how big the world is yet the solace I find there as a single passenger is absolutely fab.  

Forgotten Days

It couldn't have been more than three hours after Michelle went to sleep that she woke up with a sudden feeling of anxiety.  More than a few nights a week for as long as Michelle could remember, she couldn't make it through the entire night without waking up.  Once awake, she would lay there staring blankly into the darkness of her room trying to imagine what excuse she could use to go into her parent's room just around the corner and wake them up to ask if she could sleep with them.  Michelle knew that she didn't even have to ask because once they heard her coming, her Mom would tell her Dad, "Michelle is here Dan."  At that point her Dad would basically sleepwalk out of bed while Michelle jumped into the warm spot that her Dad was just in.  Michelle didn't know what it was but it was something about laying next to her Mom that made her feel safe and warm and instantly calm and happy enough to fall back asleep without any problems.

This night was different however.  Michelle still woke up at her usual time in the middle of the night, but while she was staring into the darkness deciding if she was going to say that she had a nightmare or that she fell off her bed, she heard soft crying coming from somewhere.  At this point she was more than wide awake and wanted to just run out and find her Mom and make sure everything was okay.  She jumped out of bed and moved towards her bedroom door when she tripped over Max.  Max, Michelle's dog, was the most beloved thing Michelle had been able to call her own at seven years old.  As usual, he was barely startled when her small frame tripped over him.   Seeing that Max chose Michelle's room to snuggle up in for the night, her nerves were immediately calmed.  She decided that she could listen for a bit longer before running to her mom, grabbing a blanket and laying on the wood floor snuggled against Max.

Once Michelle stopped moving around and got comfortable with her dog, she could really start to listen.  The crying had not stopped, yet she heard something else now too.  Her Dad was talking over the person that was crying, yet it was less like talking and more like scolding, he was angry.  Michelle knew that tone and knew that it had to be her Mom that was crying.  Michelle loved her Mom more than anything and couldn't control herself when she too started to cry and held Max even tighter.  It seemed like a thousand questions started running through her sleepy head: Why was her Mom crying with her Dad in the living room in the middle of the night?  Why was her Dad using that same tone of voice that he usually uses when they are in the middle of one of their countless fights during the day?  Why wasn't her Dad trying to make her Mom feel better?  Did he try and make Michelle feel better when she cried?  Michelle couldn't even remember right now because her chest was so tight.  She had this sinking feeling she couldn't explain and was so happy that she had Max with her at that moment.  Michelle just wished that it was a regular night and she wished she could go and lay in the big warm bed next to her Mom and fall back asleep until she heard her Mom's alarm go off at 5:05.  All that she knew was the Max hadn't even woken up yet so that must mean that everything was still okay. 

family matters, minus steve urkel

So my brother works for a music entertainment company which has kept him living on a tour bus for the past few months.  However, this past weekend the show he was working was in nyc so luckily he, my mom, and I found the time to have dinner together for the first time probably since I graduated in May.  I've never had that family that comes home every night and hangs out together and chats about the awesome panini you had for lunch and the weird thing Tom said at work that day.  We all let the busyness of life win the majority of the time...all generally function on different and totally wacked out time schedules... and all always wanted chicken, spaghetti or just a bowl of cereal for dinner on different days of the week.  These kinds of things were a part of our routine, our traditions if you will...sitting down for dinner tonight however felt pretty good.  My brother and I are like peas and carrots (stolen from Gump) and I certainly love and miss having him around.  We were talking about the next time he was going to be back in New York and suddenly my mom blurted out, "Dan and Joan are not going to be in NY for Christmas by the way, they're staying at their house in Florida this year."
I can't expect you to understand the weight of this statement but just know that I could write a whole bunch o blogs about the "bon vivant" experiences I've had at Dan and Joan's house on Christmas every year for all of the years I can remember.  This is huge and shocking and sad and weird and bad news for my brother and me.  Dan and Joan are not even technically "family members" but because my mom has maybe 3 and a half 'normal' members in her family and my dad is foreign (so his family has their own very French Christmas traditions), D&J are those friends of your parents that you wish were actually your family and call them aunt and uncle anyway.  I still cannot seem to shake it from my mind which is consistently focused on: no but seriously, what are we going to do for Christmas?
This whole situation has me once again thinking about and questioning life's changes and comfort levels and traditions and what we're all "used to" and why we as human beings absolutely live for routines in so many ways.  Is it the end of the world that we won't spend Christmas eating home-made lasagna and drinking Jack Daniel's when we're cold sitting on the porch playing some strange game where my brother and I can use our brother/sister skills to dominate? No, I guess it's not...I mean there have been changes that we have dealt with before...like the first Christmas my parents were not together but both came to the Christmas party at D&J's and the first year my dad decided to move to Florida and not be at the traditional party and the year that I was dating Edmund and left early and missed out on a whole bunch of bon vivant at D&J's.  It's just weird to think about...maybe next year my brother's going to be in Louisiana with his girlfriend's family for Christmas and maybe next year I'll be living and working overseas and will secretly almost be happy that D&J aren't having their Christmas party because at least I'll know I won't be missing it.  There's really just no way of knowing.  It's weird when the same week you turn 22 on the 22nd and you're in grad school not loving it and you're having a sit down dinner of Chinese food for the first time in months with your family and you find out your Christmas tradition has been 86ed and you're legitimately sad.  Cheers to another part of my "bon vivant" experiences in the future involving being a bit more open to such changes.  My mom is cute though, she said: "I'll cook anything you want on Christmas!"  followed up by a quick "Well, maybe."

REVISED!

According to James Baldwin, "I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that. So are we all."   In other words, although who we are as people is dependent upon the circumstances of the time and place we grow up, we still have the potential to surpass these binding constraints.  We exist as individuals outside of what our societies dictate for us.  This is shown to be true in Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  These authors utilize literary elements such as characterization and point of view to delineate this idea.

In Tim O’Brien’s novel The Things They Carried, O’Brien is both the narrator and the protagonist of stories that are inspired by the Vietnam War.  Over the course of his work, O’Brien’s character develops in a way that illustrates how growing up during the Vietnam War era influences the person O’Brien is.  However, O’Brien’s work also displays how as an individual, O’Brien is “so much more than that.”  Tim O’Brien writes, “…the act of writing had led me through a swirl of memories that might otherwise have ended in paralysis or worse. By telling stories, you objectify your own experience. You separate it from yourself.  You pin down certain truths” (158).  It is clear in this instance that O’Brien is utilizing his abilities to express himself through writing not only to comprehend his life experiences, but also to establish himself as an individual amidst such a tumultuous time period. O’Brien reveals in his work that he had absolutely no intentions of getting involved in the controversial Vietnam War.  As a liberal, he was modestly against the war and had a full ride to graduate school at Harvard when his draft notice arrived in 1968.  Although O’Brien sincerely struggled with the idea of going to war, even almost escaping to Canada, he eventually realizes that he was too “embarrassed” not to go to the war.  The circumstances of American society in the ways that O’Brien would be judged and criticized for dodging his obligations to the government pushes O’Brien to become a person he never intended to be.  American history and its involvement in global affairs made Tim O’Brien a soldier.  While countless soldiers did not even survive to have a life after the war like O’Brien, Tim O’Brien specifically utilizes his circumstances to become so much more than what Vietnam forced him to be.  O’Brien chooses to use his writing as a cathartic means to express and understand with clarity the circumstances of his life as a soldier and how those experiences impact and influence the person he is outside of the war.  It is through this character that we can understand James Baldwin’s statement to be true. 

Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn utilizes narration and characterization to illustrate the validity of James Baldwin’s expression of what makes human beings.  While Smith utilizes several different narrators throughout the novel, it is clear that Francie Nolan is the protagonist as the novel tracks her growth from an eleven year old kid to a seventeen-year-old young woman.  The setting of the novel stays consistent and is a very descriptive and poignant representation of Williamsburg, Brooklyn in the early 1900s. Smith utilizes this setting, along with Francie’s personal depiction and understanding of a life plagued with immense poverty, to enhance the creation and depth of Francie’s character.  Smith also uses omniscient third person narration to even further enhance our understanding; Smith writes, “A person who pulls himself up from a low environment via the boot strap route has two choices.  Having risen above his environment, he can forget it; or, he can rise above it and never forget it and keep compassion and understanding in his heart for those that he has left behind him in the cruel upclimb” (147).  Francie and her family are definitely a part of the “low environment” that this instance implicates in terms of their economic status.  While Francie and her family never rise above this poverty, Francie’s character is developed in a way that exemplifies how she is “much more” than just a young girl growing up in Brooklyn before the start of WWI.  Growing up under the guidance and direction of two parents that never received an education, and one whose life was ruined by alcohol moved Francie’s life in a specific direction.  While Francie never forgets where she comes from for those influences and circumstances define her everyday life, Francie as a character also exists outside of these environmental constraints.  Much like Tim O’Brien, Francie discovers that her written stories are her way of creating realities that in turn help her understand the truths that define her own amidst these conditions.  Francie’s existence is enhanced by so “much more” than the circumstances of her family, time period, or life in Williamsburg.  Her inherent compassion, her intuition about the goodness of people, and her love for writing exists outside of these time and situational constraints, and thus validates James Baldwin’s claim. 

According to James Baldwin, “"I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that. So are we all."  Clearly, upon analyzing Tim O’Brien’s use of characterization in The Things They Carried, and Betty Smith’s use of narration and characterization in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, this statement is made valid.  Although both protagonists from these works are undoubtedly influenced and “made” by the circumstances of their environments that they are subjected to, it is also clear how these authors use literary elements to express how these characters exist outside of these constraints.  Both Tim O’Brien and Francie Nolan use writing as a means of establishing their individual selves in an effort to transcend what their lives and time periods have exposed them to.  Tim and Francie exist as “much more” than just faces of their representative circumstances. 

The Critical Lens Essay...grad school style? Not really....

According to James Baldwin, "I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that. So are we all."   In other words, although who we are as people is dependent upon the circumstances of the time and place we grow up, we still have the potential to surpass these binding constraints.  We exist as individuals outside of what our societies dictate for us.  This is shown to be true in Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  These authors utilize literary elements such as characterization and point of view to delineate this idea.

In Tim O’Brien’s novel The Things They Carried, O’Brien is both the narrator and the protagonist of stories that are inspired by the Vietnam War.  Over the course of his work, O’Brien’s character develops in a way that illustrates how growing up during the Vietnam War era influences the person O’Brien is.  However, O’Brien’s work also displays how as an individual, O’Brien is “so much more than that.”  Tim O’Brien writes, “…the act of writing had led me through a swirl of memories that might otherwise have ended in paralysis or worse. By telling stories, you objectify your own experience. You separate it from yourself.  You pin down certain truths” (158).  It is clear in this instance that O’Brien is utilizing his abilities to express himself through writing not only to comprehend his life experiences, but also to establish himself as an individual amidst such a tumultuous time period. O’Brien reveals in his work that he had absolutely no intentions of getting involved in the controversial Vietnam War.  As a liberal, he was modestly against the war and had a full ride to graduate school at Harvard when his draft notice arrived in 1968.  Although O’Brien sincerely struggled with the idea of going to war, even almost escaping to Canada, he eventually realizes that he was too “embarrassed” not to go to the war.  The circumstances of American society in the ways that O’Brien would be judged and criticized for dodging his obligations to the government pushes O’Brien to become a person he never intended to be.  American history and her involvement in global affairs made Tim O’Brien a soldier.  While countless soldiers did not even survive to have a life after the war like O’Brien, Tim O’Brien specifically utilizes his circumstances to become so much more than what Vietnam forced him to be.  O’Brien chooses to use his writing as a cathartic means to express and understand with clarity the circumstances of his life as a soldier and how those experiences impact and influence the person he is outside of the war.  It is through this character that we can understand James Baldwin’s statement to be true. 

Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn utilizes narration and characterization to illustrate the validity of James Baldwin’s expression of what makes human beings.  While Smith utilizes several different narrators throughout the novel, it is clear that Francie Nolan is the protagonist as the novel tracks her growth from an eleven year old kid to a seventeen-year-old young woman.  The setting of the novel stays consistent and is a very descriptive and poignant representation of Williamsburg, Brooklyn in the early 1900s. Smith utilizes this setting along with Francie’s personal depiction and understanding of a life plagued with immense poverty to enhance the creation and depth of Francie’s character.  Smith also uses omniscient third person narration to even further enhance our understanding; Smith writes, “A person who pulls himself up from a low environment via the boot strap route has two choices.  Having risen above his environment, he can forget it; or, he can rise above it and never forget it and keep compassion and understanding in his heart for those that he has left behind him in the cruel upclimb” (147).  Francie and her family are definitely a part of the “low environment” that this instance implicates in terms of their economic status.  While Francie and her family never rise above this poverty, Francie’s character is developed in a way that exemplifies how she is “much more” than just a young girl growing up in Brooklyn before the start of WWI.  Growing up under the guidance and direction of two parents that never received an education and one whose life was ruined by alcohol moved Francie in a specific direction.  While Francie never forgets where she comes from for those influences and circumstances define her everyday life, Francie as a character also exists outside of these environmental constraints.  Much like Tim O’Brien, Francie discovers that her written stories are her way of creating realities that in turn help her understand the truths that define her own amidst these conditions.  Francie’s existence is enhanced by so much more than the circumstances of her family, time period, or life in Williamsburg.  Her inherent compassion, her intuition about the goodness of people and her love for writing exists outside of these time and situational constraints and thus validates James Baldwin’s claim. 

According to James Baldwin, “"I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that. So are we all."  Clearly, upon analyzing Tim O’Brien’s use of characterization in The Things They Carried and Betty Smith’s use of narration and characterization in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, this statement is made valid.  Although both protagonists from these works are undoubtedly influenced and “made” by the circumstances of their environments that they are subjected to, it is also clear how these authors use literary elements to express how these characters exist outside of these constraints.  Both Tim O’Brien and Franie Nolan use writing as a means of establishing their individual selves in an effort to transcend what their lives and time periods have exposed them to.  Tim and Francie exist as “much more” than just faces of their representative circumstances. 

Tim O'Brien meets Julie...again.

So I guess we all have those books that stick with us...those books that we have read in and out and loved nearly every moment.  Sometimes you can't even really explain why you love what you're reading, maybe it's the words, maybe the style or maybe it's just the way the words resonate and feel inside your mind.  I realized something this week... as many times as I have had this experience with a book, I have never read an amazing story and then years later picked up that same book to experience it again.  It's a fascinating idea when you think about it...something only you as an individual can sincerely understand: how a book that you love affects you differently at different points in your life.  This past weekend I re-read one of those books for me: Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried.  The last time I read it I was a senior in high school, barely making it to 9th period English class on a daily basis, and totally loving life unaware and dis-concerned with where I was going to college...asking me what was going to be my major was like asking me to figure out the bonus question on Mr. Chea's AP Calc exam, I just had nothing. 

As I was re-reading it, it was really so strange and beautiful for me.  I was looking at words I had read five years ago with the same eyes, but the literal and mental place I was in could not have been more different.  I noticed how I underlined things that moved me, I starred other pages, and wrote little annotations...it was like I was looking back at a past self and now questioning how I had changed and how I am still the same Julie.  Reading it this weekend reminded me that it was around the time that we were reading this book in my senior class that I was playing with the idea of going to school to be a teacher.  In fact, it was right around when we were reading this book that I was really trying to look at myself to figure out what I wanted to do with my life (because that's a normal question to answer at 17)...I started to realize that the only career I could imagine myself in is one that would influence others to read books and feel the way that I did after reading O'Brien's work.  It sounds ridiculous, believe me I know, but I swear to you this was the book that changed the way I felt about reading and literature and the capabilities of a teacher. 

Reading the book now, a grad student trying to figure out her bearings in nyc and in the world, it's a very different experience...yet somehow, it is very much the same.  O'Brien's words still have that inspiring quality in that I want to tell everyone I know and everyone I care about to read this book because I want them to feel and understand things about people and life and love and courage that I can say I understand after reading this book.  For me that seems to be the whole purpose of becoming a teacher...having a shared common experience over something thought-provoking and conversation that could potentially change the way you think/feel about something...connecting with groups of human beings for mere moments in time and being stirred by others' interpretations and understandings of a common text or idea.  What is more beautiful and more of an expression of bon vivant?  Maybe add a glass of Chianti (not in the classroom of course) and this is bliss. 

from this to that

Do you ever wonder about the transition between something new and something familiar?  I've been living in a "new" apartment with my best friend for nineteen days now and out of nowhere it feels weird to go home to Long Island and to think of sleeping in the yellow walled room that I have lived in for that past 21+ years.  When did that happen?  I walk home from the train on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays and pass the suddenly "familiar" sights...the madness of 34th and Fashion Ave with all of the stores and reminders of all of the money I do NOT have to spend, the countless restaurants with large windows facing the street easily facilitating people watching by both customer and passer-by, Union Square park market and my favorite Barnes and Noble (which my French father refers to as Barnes and Nobles because as French man he always unnecessarily puts an "s" on words that do not require an "s"), the Brother Jimmy's a block and a half away from my apt that is always packed and that I have yet to even enter because life is busy, and the bike shop on the corner of my block that my best friend bought a bike tarp from last week.  When did this become familiar?  This transition boggles my mind.  Granted, I still do not have a bed in my room (I am a bit of a procrastinator to say the least and don't necessarily successfully plan much in my life), but something about my living situation and new habits already feels oh so right.  I just started officially working in a new restaurant four blocks away from my apartment and while that has yet to become yet another "familiar" aspect of this new life, going there is no longer filled with awkward conversations of explaining that my name is Julie and not Joy (I think I really do not know how to say my name because nine times out of ten when I introduce myself people think that my name is Joy...thankfully it's not).  The awkwardness of not knowing what wines we serve by the bottle and the domestic beers we have on draft still exist, but slowly I see myself acclimating to that new environment as well...is there a specific moment that this happens?
This kind of questioning leads me to question when I will drop this awkward tension in my future as well...when do students and teachers feel comfortable enough in a classroom where expression and learning and discovery can actually happen? This thought progression has always been a lingering thought in my mind, kind of like a silent hum that I haven't focused much attention on perhaps ever, but it really is intriguing to me.  Does "good living" for me revolve around my ability to be a part of a habit of comfort and reliability?  Is this merely human nature?  How long does something last before it becomes old news and no longer something I enjoy as a part of a routine of my life?  This type of questioning leads to me have all sorts of relationship questions as well...which perhaps is a whole other blog topic but worth thinking about amongst these other questions...is there really one person in the world that can keep you happy and on your feet while other areas of your life transition from A to B at all times?  All I do know for sure is that monotony is not something that has ever given me any zest for life.  In fact, I think what I fear the most is I could potentially reach a point in my life where I see no way out out of a particular situation. 
Perhaps you are reading this and throwing me under a category: vagabond with no bed.  I'm fine with that.  I strive to love and be happy and challenged and experience as much as I possibly can...that for me is bon vivant.  I don't think an answer to any of these questions would suffice in calming my curiosities yet my wondering continues.  Ciao bellas.

Salut mes amis!

So I've been considering starting a blog for quite some time now considering I have a handful of witty friends who blog regularly and whose blog pages I visit often.  Yet, me being me, I have put it off for quite some time for a handful of reasons that range from there would never be one 'title' that would encompass all that I would want that 'title' to say (what a menacing box to fill in!)..to the fact that I am so far from tech savvy that I would surely run into more computer issues than I would care to handle. (My awesome features from my font to the background speak to the latter).  But along comes grad school and now I had to find a title and get over my constant battle with technology.

Bon Vivant...directly translated...good living.  The French phrase itself connotes much more than that however.  First of all there is nothing I love more than foreign things...whether it be languages, people, food, ideas, shoes, architecture, paintings, etc.  Also, being that I can say that at least half of my blood is French thanks my to thick accented father, all things French are a go in my book (fluency is half-crossed off on my life TO DO list).   Moreover, the phrase has some philosophical roots, another sincere passion of mine.  I did some research on the phrase and found that it's actually all things Julie!

On the surface, one could be satisfied with bon vivant meaning one who lives well and enjoys socializing around good food and drink (who doesn't?).  The lovely internet however led me to further complicate (if you know me, I do this pretty well) this understanding and connect this initial definition if you will with a body of idealistic philosophy called Epicureanism.  In accordance with this particular philosophy, life's happiness and most important pleasures derive from the meaningful relationships we maintain, our never-ending opportunity to gain  knowledge, and living a tranquil life revolving around basic virtues.  While essentially you can take a part that last sentence and ask a zillion questions like what's a meaningful relationship? What are the basic virtues? What do you consider knowledge?  yadayadayada...for me, it is pretty perfect: simply complex.  I think this blog will attempt to play around with these ideas, maybe even answer some of these potential questions and interpret 'bon vivant' through the eyes of an (almost!) 22 year old female waitress/grad student living in the lower east side of Manhattan with her best friend (recent move, woo!).

You should know however that all things Julie also connotes that I am almost certainly going to change my mind and probably won't at all be consistent with this initial proposed trajectory for my blog... :)