It's All About Perception

Yesterday, Braden capped out his detailing of the events of his fifth day of 4th grade with the statement, "And tomorrow Ms. Allen expects us to read literature and I just don't think I'm going to like it."

Alarmed by his sudden dislike of reading, I inquired further.  "But you read literature all of the time.  Why don't you think you're going to like it?"

"Mom, I read fantasy and adventure and magazines about skateboarding and "National Geographic" and "Boys Life."  I have never read literature and I don't know why Ms. Allen wants to change that."

"Braden, all of the things you mentioned are literature.  Harry Potter.  Greek Mythology.  Magazines.  It's all literature.  All written word is literature, even the ones you don't enjoy reading."

Silence flooded the backseat of the car.  And after a pregnant pause, Braden grumbled "well I don't know why Ms. Allen has to be so fancy.  She nearly ruined reading for me forever."



Braden (who obviously gets his flare for the dramatic from his Aunt Tessa) reminded me of something we educators--or people in general for that matter--often forget:  A perception of a thing is often more powerful than the thing itself.

Braden is no stranger to literary discourse.  Currently on book six of the Harry Potter series, he constantly reviews chapters with me, applauding Rowling's ability to set life to his imagination.  He questions me about my current reads and knows that I read for both pleasure and academic enrichment.  Books are part of my core; books are part of his core.  Yet one word--and his perception and his teacher's presumption--caused him to momentarily amend that core.

How many times during my fourteen years in the classroom have I done the same thing?  Have I ever, unknowingly, shaped a student's perception of literature in a negative manner?  And if I have, did he have someone at home with whom he could he discuss his concerns--someone who would reassure him that his perception was okay?  Or did he have the courage to come to me, his teacher, and seek further clarification about my meaning and intent?

Thanks to Braden and Ms. Allen, I have a new perception of perceptions.  And so today, and tomorrow, and every day to come in the classroom, I will create an environment where perceptions elicit positivity.

My favorite things (at Yale)

They may not be raindrops or whiskers, but these are my favorite things from Yale.  (My favorite things from my travels elsewhere will follow later.)

In no particular order:

The Iron Maidenheads, who went by many different team names (Iron Maidenheads was my favorite; Semantic Anarchy led us to victory) over the course of 6 weeks, played trivia every Tuesday night while in New Haven.  Most weeks, I was joined by James, Aaron, Elizabeth, Susannah, and Hans (but Renee and Ann each joined us once) in search of intellectual stimulation unrelated to Chaucer and the Middle Ages.  (Though we were always hopeful for a question about the Peasant Uprising of 1381.)  On our final Tuesday, WE WON FIRST PLACE, dominating the forum and beating the second place team by 50 points.  We can leave New Haven satisfied.  After all:  "There is no substitute for victory."  Douglas MacArthur

At Yale, all of the intersections on campus are set for double-crossing.  Nope, not fancy trickery, but instead the ability to cross the street on the diagonal.  (The picture above is a visual representation of that, not a tribute to The Beatles.)  This convenience makes up for the fact that you cannot make a right turn on red anywhere in New Haven.

This is my classroom.  I spend 9 hours here each week, circled around the table with my classmates, talking about history and literature.  It's just like a scene from Gilmore Girls (except it's real life).  The classroom is in a building called Linsly-Chittenden which is on Old Campus.  The auditorium has beautiful Tiffany windows and a fireplace.  It's surreal.

I shared a picture of the exterior of Sterling Memorial Library in one of my early blogs.  While the architecture is gorgeous (and inspired by a cathedral), it is what lies in the stacks--in the belly of the beast if you will--that draws me in.  The stacks, a labyrinth of knowledge, are intoxicating.  Within these catacombs one finds century-old (or  older) secrets waiting to be discovered.  4 million texts are housed within this maze and I only had 6 weeks to enjoy them.

One day during our second to last week we took a class trip to the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library on the Yale campus.  These manuscripts are beautiful beyond explanation.  We viewed a facsimile of the Ellesmere Chaucer (the manuscript that holds the most completely accurate arrangement of The Canterbury Tales), The Siege of Thebes, a text of Arthurian romances, and an indulgence scroll.  (Indulgence scrolls were posted in the Church and provided sinners with specifics on how many "Hail Marys" to recite to reduce their time in Hell after death.)  It was an amazing experience.  And watching Dr. Patterson in this arena was incredible.  He manipulates the fragile texts with ease.  It was equally intimidating and inspiring.

The tintinnabulation of the bells of Harkness Tower in Branford college mesmerized me my first night on campus.  That night I arrived to Yale at the start of the 7:00 pm carillon.  The peeling chimes can be heard for miles, including the block of 91 Howe, and created, for me, personal zen.

The first two photos were taken on High Street, the campus view of Harkness Tower.

Check out information about the Yale Guild of Carillonneurs.  This is where you will find me next summer!  http://www.yale.edu/carillon/yamasaki.htm

The last two photos were taken inside the courtyards of Branford college.  You get this view on the campus tour or if you live in this residential college as a student.  The residential colleges provide everything the students needs:  dorm sleeping, cafeteria, buttery (snack bar), library, common room, gym, dance studio, music labs, and much more.  There are 12 residential colleges at Yale and students are assigned to them as Freshmen.  It's like Hogwarts without the sorting hat; I would want Branford as vehemently as Harry doesn't want Slytherin.  Get more information about the residential colleges here:  http://yalecollege.yale.edu/content/residential-colleges.

Martha who?

I am not very domestic.  It's not that I'm incapable or opposed or feminist or any of the like; it's that the art of domesticity is lost on an 8 year old boy.  If I ever have the pleasure of being a wife, I will be happily domestic (understanding full well that the art of domesticity may also be lost on an adult boy), but until that point, I see no need to prepare a Martha Stewart inspired meal for an 8 year old boy with the pallet of an 8 year old boy or to scour the surfaces of my home to a shine in which June Cleaver can see her reflection.  I cook and clean as dictated by the needs of my small family and to this date we have survived just fine.  (After all, my son has reached the age of 8, a ripe age for Medieval times, so I must be doing something right.  Though my mom would contend that I need to clean my bathrooms more frequently.  I guess she's more domestic than I.)

Although domesticity strays a little from my investigation into Medieval motherhood, especially since in my mind it emphasizes the role of the wife in relationship to the family as a whole not just a woman's responsibility as a mother,  I encountered some interesting facets of Medieval domesticity that I would like to share with you.

• The architecture of the early Medieval home (twelfth and thirteenth centuries) was strongly influenced by religious and secular views of the Eucharist, placing the usage of the buttery (a room for storing wine and liquor) and the pantry (a room whose usage is so elevated that its name is changed to a spence to reflect the importance of bread) parallel to that of the grand hall.  The grand hall, aptly named, was arranged in such symmetry that it could be folded along its longest wall and form a perfect mirror image of itself.  The bread and wine held such honor that each room (buttery and spence) had its own overseer, positions of reverence within the domestic structure.  These architectural and social indulgences indicated more than just your wealth; they indicated the order and behavior of your domicile.
• If you have seen Macbeth or The Tudors or The Lion in Winter, to name a few, you have seen an image of a grand hall similar to those found in Medieval homes.  The hall itself is not the element of the architecture that interests me.  I am intrigued by the emphasis placed on the buttery and the spence.  When shopping for a home today, many people notice the structure of the kitchen, and with that consider storage for all their kitchen items, but I think it is safe to say that most people do not place as much emphasis on pantry spaces as our Medieval counterparts.  And the idea that the bread and the wine were to be stored in separate areas, each with a separate person to oversee its contents, is enthralling.  (A side note, the 'snack bar' located in the basement of each residential college here at Yale is called 'the buttery.')  I understand the sacred association of them, but I do not think Jesus intended for building plans to be drawn around The Last Supper.  (And I wonder if Hogwarts stores these items in separate rooms.  Blasphemous thought, I know.)  Based upon these practices of organization and management of the buttery and spence, I am much more domestic than I think.  My spence is rigidly organized; my spence organizing skills are so honed that I organize my mom's spence every time I get a chance.  Yep, I'm a real Harriet Beecher Stowe.  (I bet you didn't know that Beecher Stowe was America's original Martha Stewart.  She published The American Woman's Home:  Principal's of Domestic Science in 1869.)

• The Virgin Mary, who was pregnant at the time, traveled to see her cousin Elizabeth, who was also pregnant.  The reunion of these women and the events of their visit establish a precedence of sorts for every family visit since that time.  The Visitation, as it is fondly called, supposedly influences women like Margery Kempe and Birgitta of Sweden (among countless others) to make frequent visits to family, primarily based upon religious duty and devotion, in which fellowship (much like communion) is highly regarded.
• While I find it a bit of a stretch to accredit Mary with establishing the idea of family gatherings, it does make her more approachable and real.  (I've always found her a little intimidating because of the whole "I gave birth to Christ" thing.)  Her concern for her cousin led her to travel at a time when she probably should have just remained at home, relaxing in the recliner (its BC equivalent anyway).  But family is about sacrifice and Mary demonstrates this during the Visitation.  I'm not sure if I buy it completely, but it at least gives purpose to the hours of therapy that follow a long weekend with the family.  (Hours is a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.)

Above is an image of The Visitation from Bean Book of Hours, Manuscript 2, Folio 521.


Source:  Kowaleski, M. and Goldberg, P.  Medieval Domesticity.  Cambridge University Press.  New York, 2008.

Chaucer and JK Rowling vs Stephenie Meyer

In honor of the opening of Eclipse, I dedicate today's blog to Chaucer's creation of a literary tradition for England.

Why is Chaucer important? Prior to Chaucer's career as a writer/poet*, he read the greats: Italians Dante', Petrarch, and Boccaccio. As the son of a wine merchant, Chaucer often interacted with Italian cultivators and merchants and as a result could speak as well as read Italian. Among few in the merchant class, and even the nobility with this ability, Chaucer studies the texts of these great Italians, as well as the French Roman de la Rosa by de Lorris and de Meun, and discovers that the literature of both cultures holds a living literary tradition, a dialogue between the texts, similarities from work to work, author to author, that establish a form for making good literature. In viewing various English volumes--of which there were few--Chaucer discovers that England lacks such a literary tradition and he sets forth to establish one.

*It must be noted that Chaucer did not consider himself a poet. He referred to himself as a "maker" and to his poetry as "making." Chaucer, and society as a whole, reserved the term poet for more classical authors of the time, such as those studied and admired by Chaucer as mentioned above. Dryden dubbed Chaucer as the "Father of English Poetry" in the 1700s.

In Chaucer's English literary tradition, readers see hints of Dante', Petrarch, and Boccaccio, and find comfort in the familiar elements of epics and fabliau (French fable, usually bawdy and humorous), but character development is where readers find Chaucer's "twist." In The Canterbury Tales, readers find the whole spectrum of Medieval culture, which is divided into 3 estates: those who pray (churchmen and women), those who fight (nobility), and those who work (everyone else). The pilgrims--29 in total, but only 24 share their tales--are the center of the literature. The tale and the teller (pilgrim) are linked--you can't truly conceptualize the message of the tale without first encountering the portrait of the pilgrim. ("The General Prologue" of The Canterbury Tales provides a portrait of each pilgrim.) The pilgrims who tell the tales, not the characters in the tales they tell, drive the movement of the message. And thus, Chaucer establishes an English literary tradition founded on the character.

Chaucer's Monk and Wife of Bath. Shakepeare's Lady Macbeth, Iago, Mercutio, and the Dark Lady of sonnet fame. Dickens' Mr. Gradgrind in Hard Times and Fagin in Oliver Twist. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. Harry, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Sirius--honestly, I don't think Rowling got a character wrong--from the Harry Potter series. Yes, a literary tradition founded on the character.

Oh Stephanie Meyer, if only you were British!


***No Twilight fans were harmed in the writing of this post***