Continuing from the last post . . . .
We've Done the "Why": Now a Little How
CAGSE offers samplers of the Latin programme for boroughs who are interested in offering it in their schools. Most often, we rent a venue, invite local schools, and do one interactive performance for several classes at once.
When asked, we also work with one class or several classes from the same school in their assembly hall.
What Comes Next
We begin by talking about Roman heroes and what they have in common with the kids' heroes today. Even Thomas the Tank Engine is honest and brave, so it's usually not much of a stretch.
More, But Different
We have a professional story teller present the origins and exploits of a Roman hero -- recently, it's been Aeneas -- ending with the bit about the armour created with his victories and exploits in mind. We then ask the children to close their eyes and imagine their greatest triumph -- if they were going to create a shield, what would they have on it? How would they articulate their greatest success? The kids are encouraged to consider their past experiences and also to envision their futures.
We then distribute paper shields and crayons, and we ask them to draw what they are most proud of -- or what they plan to be most proud of -- in ten minutes. We also ask them to give the pictures a title. We post all the shields in one place, and we talk about the impressive aspects of each.
If you'd like to see some, click here or here. They're not all posted yet, so stay tuned.
And Last . . .
Just for a sense of Latin's accessibility, we teach the kids a little chat. Hello, how are you, I'm fine, how are you, I'm fine -- that's it. In Latin.
They practice with a partner, they shout it as one large group to another, and there is usually a lot of laughter. Many of these children speak languages other than English at home. This just makes Latin another -- another that they can master.
If You'd Like Us to Come to Your Borough or Your School . . .
Please contact us through the CAGSE site. We've found the effect to be the same everywhere we go. Latin is fun, easy to learn, and connected to the culture (and land) in which all the children live.
This blog explores common elements of successful leadership, brand partnerships through storytelling across contexts. What makes someone a leader anyway? And how do you learn to innovate in business?
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Samplers for Latin: But First, a Quiz
Background
I run an educational consultancy called CAGSE, which stands for Curriculum Articulation for the Global Support of Education. "Curriculum Articulation," you see, instead of "Development". The real trick before you teach is to clarify what you want to accomplish. Then you need to be precise about the reason to choose a particular activity to accomplish this.
For those who have not taught, articulating your goals and objectives is probably the hardest part of the job. Discipline is probably the second most difficult in primary school, particularly if you are not the regular teacher, but it can be mitigated -- or eliminated -- by a beautifully planned and executed lesson.
So really, articulation is the key, both for yourself and for your class. Everyone needs to be on the same page.
What We Teach
Latin. In State schools. Years 4, 5 and 6. In London.
For Americans, that means third, fourth and fifth grades in public school.
Why? I've written about this earlier, so if you've read it all before, please move on to the next post.
But If You Haven't Heard . . . .
A lot of benefits, particularly in London schools. The political valence of Latin here is heavy. It's a gentleman's language, taught to the elite. With few exceptions, it's taught to middle- to upper-middle class kids in fee-paying schools. And it's usually considered a subject for only the highest achievers. In other words, do well at everything else, and you will be rewarded with Classics.
This reinforces a class system that is as much about education as it is about breeding and money (similar, but not exactly the same, as in the States where money plays a much bigger role and breeding a much smaller one).
For the hundreds of thousands of non-European immigrants and their children, who wouldn't fit into the class system even with the fanciest education or an influx of dosh, Latin can help both with confidence (they are as smart and special as fancy English kids) and with their English (it's the best English grammar education they can get).
What's more, Latin is an inflected language. Most of the kids of immigrant parents' share languages that are also inflected. Learning Latin allows these kids to feel that English and the place they live belongs to them in a new way. Add the fact that their home town used to belong to the Romans, and the sense of connection is complete. Latin can be the passport that allows these kids to have ownership over the place they live and to the languages they speak.
But Wait . . . There's (Always) More
The benefits grow the more you think about them. Romance languages become easy to learn once Latin is under the belt, and there is a modern language requirement in primary schools here to be implemented universally by the year 2010.
One parent in Hampstead believes that regardless of the "modern" language taught in her daughter's primary school, Latin should be taught, too. What if the primary school teaches French, and the secondary school teaches Spanish (or visa versa)? Latin will level the playing field for every kid.
Last But not Least, It's Fun.
Unlike the older ways of teaching Latin, CAGSE uses age-appropriate activities in addition to traditional methods. Although I can't sing, I went around to classrooms all over London teaching a song about case endings. There were hand movements, loud and soft versions, and a lot of standing up. The kids loved it. More important, they remembered it.
For more on this subject in a more universal context, please see Via Facilis for extensive discussion of this topic.
For further ways CAGSE empowers kids through Latin language and culture, please see the next post.
I run an educational consultancy called CAGSE, which stands for Curriculum Articulation for the Global Support of Education. "Curriculum Articulation," you see, instead of "Development". The real trick before you teach is to clarify what you want to accomplish. Then you need to be precise about the reason to choose a particular activity to accomplish this.
For those who have not taught, articulating your goals and objectives is probably the hardest part of the job. Discipline is probably the second most difficult in primary school, particularly if you are not the regular teacher, but it can be mitigated -- or eliminated -- by a beautifully planned and executed lesson.
So really, articulation is the key, both for yourself and for your class. Everyone needs to be on the same page.
What We Teach
Latin. In State schools. Years 4, 5 and 6. In London.
For Americans, that means third, fourth and fifth grades in public school.
Why? I've written about this earlier, so if you've read it all before, please move on to the next post.
But If You Haven't Heard . . . .
A lot of benefits, particularly in London schools. The political valence of Latin here is heavy. It's a gentleman's language, taught to the elite. With few exceptions, it's taught to middle- to upper-middle class kids in fee-paying schools. And it's usually considered a subject for only the highest achievers. In other words, do well at everything else, and you will be rewarded with Classics.
This reinforces a class system that is as much about education as it is about breeding and money (similar, but not exactly the same, as in the States where money plays a much bigger role and breeding a much smaller one).
For the hundreds of thousands of non-European immigrants and their children, who wouldn't fit into the class system even with the fanciest education or an influx of dosh, Latin can help both with confidence (they are as smart and special as fancy English kids) and with their English (it's the best English grammar education they can get).
What's more, Latin is an inflected language. Most of the kids of immigrant parents' share languages that are also inflected. Learning Latin allows these kids to feel that English and the place they live belongs to them in a new way. Add the fact that their home town used to belong to the Romans, and the sense of connection is complete. Latin can be the passport that allows these kids to have ownership over the place they live and to the languages they speak.
But Wait . . . There's (Always) More
The benefits grow the more you think about them. Romance languages become easy to learn once Latin is under the belt, and there is a modern language requirement in primary schools here to be implemented universally by the year 2010.
One parent in Hampstead believes that regardless of the "modern" language taught in her daughter's primary school, Latin should be taught, too. What if the primary school teaches French, and the secondary school teaches Spanish (or visa versa)? Latin will level the playing field for every kid.
Last But not Least, It's Fun.
Unlike the older ways of teaching Latin, CAGSE uses age-appropriate activities in addition to traditional methods. Although I can't sing, I went around to classrooms all over London teaching a song about case endings. There were hand movements, loud and soft versions, and a lot of standing up. The kids loved it. More important, they remembered it.
For more on this subject in a more universal context, please see Via Facilis for extensive discussion of this topic.
For further ways CAGSE empowers kids through Latin language and culture, please see the next post.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Latin It All Hang Out
I haven't written in ages, primarily because we've been getting the CAGSE Latin program in order for next year. I have much to tell about children's love of Latin, how Latin aids children's English (a sneaky side-effect), and the fun we've had this term in London schools.
For the latest work we're doing, see our site for news, primary school kids interpreting the Aeneid in our free sample sessions, and our classes blogging about Latin. For some commentary on our success, please stay tuned . . . .
For the latest work we're doing, see our site for news, primary school kids interpreting the Aeneid in our free sample sessions, and our classes blogging about Latin. For some commentary on our success, please stay tuned . . . .
Friday, May 16, 2008
Calling All Excellent Teachers: CAGSE Needs You
Are you an experienced, enthusiastic teacher? Do you love kids? Do you live in England or do you have a work permit to do so? Do you love language, and do you learn quickly?
CAGSE is recruiting teachers of all disciplines who either have done Latin or would like to learn it -- teachers who focus on storytelling and other unusual ways of engaging kids.
CAGSE focuses on Years 5 and 6 in London State schools, and we have a wonderfully collaborative process.
If you think we suit you and you us, please get in touch (info@cagse.com).
For more information, see www.cagse.com.
CAGSE is recruiting teachers of all disciplines who either have done Latin or would like to learn it -- teachers who focus on storytelling and other unusual ways of engaging kids.
CAGSE focuses on Years 5 and 6 in London State schools, and we have a wonderfully collaborative process.
If you think we suit you and you us, please get in touch (info@cagse.com).
For more information, see www.cagse.com.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Once Upon a Time . . . .
. . . there was a class with one hour a week of Latin language classes. In fact, there were 15, scattered about the kingdom's capital city. And they all had fun.
What Works
One technique that the kids enjoyed tremendously was singing a song about Latin cases.
No kidding.
Grammatical Structures as Narrative
By putting all the Latin cases and their meanings to music, they naturally fell into a sort of story about cause and effect, order and character, and so on. You don't have to try to make this happen: it just does. When you put language to music, you tend to get a sense of narrative.
Even better, with arm movements for each part of speech, the kids get abstract concepts into their bodies along with the words that represent them. It works.
What Else Has Works
Because CAGSE works only in State schools, Latin is about as foreign to these kids as -- well -- ancient Rome. Probably more foreign for the kids who have watched any TV at all.
To address this issue and to reinforce what the language teachers have offered, Sarah Mooney, our Director of Storytelling, created a story in English peppered with Latin vocabulary.
The reason this story worked (again) is relationship Sarah created between convention and what is new.
Once Upon a Time . . .
Sarah's story had nothing to do with Rome. It followed the experiences of a boy who played the flute, a princess, a garden and a king. The vocabulary stood out boldly because it was entrenched in what the kids took for granted (the princess wore a corona, the most beautiful corona the boy had ever seen).
In fact, the kids could name every Latin word used in a story that lasted more than a half hour. That's a lot to remember. And it happened in several different classes.
We learn through context -- in order to understand something unfamiliar, we need something familiar to give it context and meaning.
Stories provide a perfect venue to make the familiar new. More in the next post.
What Works
One technique that the kids enjoyed tremendously was singing a song about Latin cases.
No kidding.
Grammatical Structures as Narrative
By putting all the Latin cases and their meanings to music, they naturally fell into a sort of story about cause and effect, order and character, and so on. You don't have to try to make this happen: it just does. When you put language to music, you tend to get a sense of narrative.
Even better, with arm movements for each part of speech, the kids get abstract concepts into their bodies along with the words that represent them. It works.
What Else Has Works
Because CAGSE works only in State schools, Latin is about as foreign to these kids as -- well -- ancient Rome. Probably more foreign for the kids who have watched any TV at all.
To address this issue and to reinforce what the language teachers have offered, Sarah Mooney, our Director of Storytelling, created a story in English peppered with Latin vocabulary.
The reason this story worked (again) is relationship Sarah created between convention and what is new.
Once Upon a Time . . .
Sarah's story had nothing to do with Rome. It followed the experiences of a boy who played the flute, a princess, a garden and a king. The vocabulary stood out boldly because it was entrenched in what the kids took for granted (the princess wore a corona, the most beautiful corona the boy had ever seen).
In fact, the kids could name every Latin word used in a story that lasted more than a half hour. That's a lot to remember. And it happened in several different classes.
We learn through context -- in order to understand something unfamiliar, we need something familiar to give it context and meaning.
Stories provide a perfect venue to make the familiar new. More in the next post.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Big Apple Playback
I had the pleasure of seeing a troupe of storytellers called the Big Apple Playback Theatre Company. They are from New York, as their name suggests, and their work is remarkable for a number of reasons.
Number 1: How it Works
One of the performers sits at the front of the room and serves as the moderator. Her position close to the audience creates an intimacy that is only reinforced by her conversation directly with the spectators.
The moderator asks for a volunteer to share an experience that created one, two, or three feelings . The moderator then reiterates the story for the approval of the spectator, creates a title for the story, and tells actors waiting nearby to perform it.
Number 2: Why it's So Powerful
Needless to say, most adults are not used to discussing their feelings, particularly in public. At first no one volunteered. However, after the second story was told, hands shot up all over the room when asked for a contribution.
Needless to say, most adults would like to talk about how they feel if they felt they were in a safe environment.
Number 3: Mirroring
The telling of the story can be moving, but the performance of it transforms it into a new sort of project. This happened for both audience members who hadn't spoken and for the original storyteller, I found out afterwards.
One rarely is offered an opportunity to see one's feelings interpreted in movement and sound (sometimes language, sometimes not). As with children, adults benefit from a validation of their experience. The evening was moving in a way that is hard to describe if you weren't there.
Number 4: Surprises
The stories that one thought would be moving in performance rarely struck a chord for the audience. The death of a loved one, for example, often caught sympathy with the audience in its telling but had little effect when performed. Perhaps we've become immune to dramatic emotional states through television and the stage. Rarely do you get a film that doesn't focus on some sort of upheaval.
The stories of subtle experience, however, were moving beyond words.
And so I'll leave it there.
Number 1: How it Works
One of the performers sits at the front of the room and serves as the moderator. Her position close to the audience creates an intimacy that is only reinforced by her conversation directly with the spectators.
The moderator asks for a volunteer to share an experience that created one, two, or three feelings . The moderator then reiterates the story for the approval of the spectator, creates a title for the story, and tells actors waiting nearby to perform it.
Number 2: Why it's So Powerful
Needless to say, most adults are not used to discussing their feelings, particularly in public. At first no one volunteered. However, after the second story was told, hands shot up all over the room when asked for a contribution.
Needless to say, most adults would like to talk about how they feel if they felt they were in a safe environment.
Number 3: Mirroring
The telling of the story can be moving, but the performance of it transforms it into a new sort of project. This happened for both audience members who hadn't spoken and for the original storyteller, I found out afterwards.
One rarely is offered an opportunity to see one's feelings interpreted in movement and sound (sometimes language, sometimes not). As with children, adults benefit from a validation of their experience. The evening was moving in a way that is hard to describe if you weren't there.
Number 4: Surprises
The stories that one thought would be moving in performance rarely struck a chord for the audience. The death of a loved one, for example, often caught sympathy with the audience in its telling but had little effect when performed. Perhaps we've become immune to dramatic emotional states through television and the stage. Rarely do you get a film that doesn't focus on some sort of upheaval.
The stories of subtle experience, however, were moving beyond words.
And so I'll leave it there.
Friday, March 28, 2008
The British Curriculum: Strands of Conversation
The British curriculum for Key Stage 3 in primary school is described as having 12 strands:
1. Speaking
2. Listening and Understanding
3. Group Discussion
4. Drama
5. Word Recognition
6. Word Structure and Spelling
7. Understanding and Interpreting Texts
8. Responding to Texts
9. Creating and Shaping Texts
10. Text Structure and Organization
11. Sentence Structure and Punctuation
12. Presentation
All are in conversation must be in conversation in order for them to be fully understood. All are addressed when telling and listening to stories.
Storytelling as Conversation
I've already articulated the reasons for which conversation makes a very apt model for learning. Now I'll extend the argument to an equation that is the same backward as it is forward (storytelling as conversation: conversation as storytelling).
1. All conversation contains convention.
2. Convention is, by definition, what we take for granted.
3. All stories are made of conventions and other elements that are new.
4. By responding to the conventional meanings in existing stories with new stories, storytelling becomes a kind of conversation between us and received wisdom.
Conversation as Storytelling
What is conversation but a series of stories batted (or gently tossed) between at least two parties? One story either contradicts another, context shapes the story that is chosen, and so on.
I joined CAGSE because the CEO believes strongly that storytelling as a bridge between children's experience and that of the past, present, future -- in any subject area. And we add the element of Latin language taught as conversation as well. From the largest elements (beginnings, endings, and so on) to the smallest (words and their meaning), students start to look at the world around them in new ways.
Some of this can be seen in the blog posts. All of it is very exciting indeed.
1. Speaking
2. Listening and Understanding
3. Group Discussion
4. Drama
5. Word Recognition
6. Word Structure and Spelling
7. Understanding and Interpreting Texts
8. Responding to Texts
9. Creating and Shaping Texts
10. Text Structure and Organization
11. Sentence Structure and Punctuation
12. Presentation
All are in conversation must be in conversation in order for them to be fully understood. All are addressed when telling and listening to stories.
Storytelling as Conversation
I've already articulated the reasons for which conversation makes a very apt model for learning. Now I'll extend the argument to an equation that is the same backward as it is forward (storytelling as conversation: conversation as storytelling).
1. All conversation contains convention.
2. Convention is, by definition, what we take for granted.
3. All stories are made of conventions and other elements that are new.
4. By responding to the conventional meanings in existing stories with new stories, storytelling becomes a kind of conversation between us and received wisdom.
Conversation as Storytelling
What is conversation but a series of stories batted (or gently tossed) between at least two parties? One story either contradicts another, context shapes the story that is chosen, and so on.
I joined CAGSE because the CEO believes strongly that storytelling as a bridge between children's experience and that of the past, present, future -- in any subject area. And we add the element of Latin language taught as conversation as well. From the largest elements (beginnings, endings, and so on) to the smallest (words and their meaning), students start to look at the world around them in new ways.
Some of this can be seen in the blog posts. All of it is very exciting indeed.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
A Most Generous Site
Educators looking for inspiration and ideas (especially along digital lines) should not miss ICT in Education or Ewan McIntosh's blog.
The sites are generous in their range of offerings and definitely worth a look.
The sites are generous in their range of offerings and definitely worth a look.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Storytelling as Conversation
Circle Game
For years, I discussed at length why best model for learning is that of conversation. Most of my interest in social networks, advertising, innovation, and just about everything else in business involves the value of dialogue and of creatively shaping stories without censorship or pressure to conform (in other words, structured but unscripted conversation).
I began this blog four years ago just to talk about this issue in business. It took me all this time to get back to where I was before I took the job running CAGSE.
CAGSE?
If you've just checked in, CAGSE is an educational consultancy that puts Latin programs into State schools in England.
This is not just any Latin program. It's one that solves all the problems left open by existing programs like Cambridge (no grammar) and others (no interest). Based on building blocks from Richard Gilder's book, Via Facilis, the kids learn a lot more than Latin. They learn about how language works, they hit each of the 12 strands of the British curriculum, and they have fun.
There are a lot of reasons for choosing England -- the symbolic weight Latin has here because only the top kids in top schools are allowed to study it, the opportunity to participate in improving the educational system according to government standards that Latin meets, and more.
The two pieces to our program at the moment are language study -- mostly through games and exercises -- and storytelling. Both develop critical thinking, problem-solving, confidence, and literacy.
The storytelling program has lagged behind the language lessons per se because of time and resources. However, the time has come to go full ahead.
Back to the Beginning
The model we'll use is storytelling as conversation -- among languages, between the past and the present, between authority and interpretation, and between individuals and the collective.
More as we go.
For years, I discussed at length why best model for learning is that of conversation. Most of my interest in social networks, advertising, innovation, and just about everything else in business involves the value of dialogue and of creatively shaping stories without censorship or pressure to conform (in other words, structured but unscripted conversation).
I began this blog four years ago just to talk about this issue in business. It took me all this time to get back to where I was before I took the job running CAGSE.
CAGSE?
If you've just checked in, CAGSE is an educational consultancy that puts Latin programs into State schools in England.
This is not just any Latin program. It's one that solves all the problems left open by existing programs like Cambridge (no grammar) and others (no interest). Based on building blocks from Richard Gilder's book, Via Facilis, the kids learn a lot more than Latin. They learn about how language works, they hit each of the 12 strands of the British curriculum, and they have fun.
There are a lot of reasons for choosing England -- the symbolic weight Latin has here because only the top kids in top schools are allowed to study it, the opportunity to participate in improving the educational system according to government standards that Latin meets, and more.
The two pieces to our program at the moment are language study -- mostly through games and exercises -- and storytelling. Both develop critical thinking, problem-solving, confidence, and literacy.
The storytelling program has lagged behind the language lessons per se because of time and resources. However, the time has come to go full ahead.
Back to the Beginning
The model we'll use is storytelling as conversation -- among languages, between the past and the present, between authority and interpretation, and between individuals and the collective.
More as we go.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
What's in a Name?
Yesterday I attended a workshop in Taunton, Somerset (UK) about (what the leaders called) the art of workshop.
OK, anything can be an art, and there is art in anything well done. But that's a bit of a reach.
It turned out to be three women who seemed to be working out their ideas about what to do in such a workshop on us. That would not be so bad, really, if they had a clear idea about what they were trying to accomplish (we all teach so we learn). But instead, I had the distinct impression we were paying for the privilege of teaching them what they should be looking for, doing, and why.
Needless to say, I was glad the thing wasn't expensive.
Workshops are a Crap Shoot
Anyone who has ever attended a workshop knows that it's a crap shoot. You are never quite sure what is going to happen, who will attend (very important to how the thing goes), or what you'll learn (if anything).
I won't go into detail on this one, but suffice it to say that there were workshop leaders from all over the country who were led around without being consulted about how the thing was going -- except in terms of how to do it better next time.
Why not check in while the thing was happening and change directions when needed?
Learned A Lot (But Not As Advertised)
I came out of the day having learned what Sarah Mooney, my storytelling partner, and I need to insure when we lead our own programs. And I learned it better than if it had been taught on purpose.
1. These things need to be fun. Don't take yourself or your project too seriously.
2. They need to be fun through play. Real play. This means you, workshop leaders.
While doodling as you do in your teenage self while the grown-ups drone on, a fellow participant and I embellished a map of "workshop" we had created in a fit of silliness to meet the criteria of a completely different assignment (write a manifesto for workshop -- we should tell them?).
This participant crossed out the word "work" and replaced it with "play" -- as in playshop.
Playing means free movement -- of ideas, of the body, of relationships. Don't try to control things by sticking to the program. Honor your participants by checking in with them, and adjust accordingly.
3. Ask questions well -- and with precision.
Come up with an angle on an old question that can change perspective on the issue. No guarantees, but a little creativity and thought goes a long way.
More in the next post.
OK, anything can be an art, and there is art in anything well done. But that's a bit of a reach.
It turned out to be three women who seemed to be working out their ideas about what to do in such a workshop on us. That would not be so bad, really, if they had a clear idea about what they were trying to accomplish (we all teach so we learn). But instead, I had the distinct impression we were paying for the privilege of teaching them what they should be looking for, doing, and why.
Needless to say, I was glad the thing wasn't expensive.
Workshops are a Crap Shoot
Anyone who has ever attended a workshop knows that it's a crap shoot. You are never quite sure what is going to happen, who will attend (very important to how the thing goes), or what you'll learn (if anything).
I won't go into detail on this one, but suffice it to say that there were workshop leaders from all over the country who were led around without being consulted about how the thing was going -- except in terms of how to do it better next time.
Why not check in while the thing was happening and change directions when needed?
Learned A Lot (But Not As Advertised)
I came out of the day having learned what Sarah Mooney, my storytelling partner, and I need to insure when we lead our own programs. And I learned it better than if it had been taught on purpose.
1. These things need to be fun. Don't take yourself or your project too seriously.
2. They need to be fun through play. Real play. This means you, workshop leaders.
While doodling as you do in your teenage self while the grown-ups drone on, a fellow participant and I embellished a map of "workshop" we had created in a fit of silliness to meet the criteria of a completely different assignment (write a manifesto for workshop -- we should tell them?).
This participant crossed out the word "work" and replaced it with "play" -- as in playshop.
Playing means free movement -- of ideas, of the body, of relationships. Don't try to control things by sticking to the program. Honor your participants by checking in with them, and adjust accordingly.
3. Ask questions well -- and with precision.
Come up with an angle on an old question that can change perspective on the issue. No guarantees, but a little creativity and thought goes a long way.
More in the next post.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Children in the Middle East
There is a wonderful blog with posts from Palestinian and Israeli children. It worth seeing.
Leila Segal, a freelance journalist, runs the blog along with other youth projects. Take a look.
Leila Segal, a freelance journalist, runs the blog along with other youth projects. Take a look.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
A Song in Case: Latin to the Oldies
I had the privilege to teach Latin cases to a group of year 5's at a school in Tower Hamlets this week. I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun at work.
Silly Works
To a non-classicist, the song's words are pretty dull (see the end of this post), and the melody doesn't have a lot of oomph either. But neither did Schoolhouse Rock in the US in the '70s, and a 40-something friend of mine and I can still sing through the preamble to the Constitution because of it.
I'm the first one to admit that our CAGSE composers aren't exactly on the level of those Schoolhouse Rock folks. Still, together with arm movements and the ability to stand up while they learn, it was a room full of enough energy and smiling faces that you might have mistaken the lesson for a party.
Story Time
After we sang for about 15 minutes, Sarah Mooney, CAGSE's Director of Storytelling, told a story about a boy with a flute and a princess who makes choices about who she'll marry ("this isn't one of those stories where the boys get to boss the girls around"). It was peppered with Latin vocabulary already familiar to the class.
A pretty sophisticated discussion ensued about both the plot and the words Sarah chose. Then we sang the song again (to make sure that they had learned the grammar, both in Latin and English).
They did.
Can you believe I get paid to do this?
The Song
Ovid, it ain't -- but the kids couldn't care less:
The nominative case is a person or thing doing the action in the sentence.
The accusative case is a person or thing receiving the action in the sentence.
The genitive case is of.
The dative case is to or for.
The ablative case is by, with, or from.
Silly Works
To a non-classicist, the song's words are pretty dull (see the end of this post), and the melody doesn't have a lot of oomph either. But neither did Schoolhouse Rock in the US in the '70s, and a 40-something friend of mine and I can still sing through the preamble to the Constitution because of it.
I'm the first one to admit that our CAGSE composers aren't exactly on the level of those Schoolhouse Rock folks. Still, together with arm movements and the ability to stand up while they learn, it was a room full of enough energy and smiling faces that you might have mistaken the lesson for a party.
Story Time
After we sang for about 15 minutes, Sarah Mooney, CAGSE's Director of Storytelling, told a story about a boy with a flute and a princess who makes choices about who she'll marry ("this isn't one of those stories where the boys get to boss the girls around"). It was peppered with Latin vocabulary already familiar to the class.
A pretty sophisticated discussion ensued about both the plot and the words Sarah chose. Then we sang the song again (to make sure that they had learned the grammar, both in Latin and English).
They did.
Can you believe I get paid to do this?
The Song
Ovid, it ain't -- but the kids couldn't care less:
The nominative case is a person or thing doing the action in the sentence.
The accusative case is a person or thing receiving the action in the sentence.
The genitive case is of.
The dative case is to or for.
The ablative case is by, with, or from.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Blowing One's Own Horn
So rarely does one praised for one's work in public -- and to the skies -- that I must post the tribute here.
How lucky am I?
How lucky am I?
Thursday, January 17, 2008
What we're up to at CAGSE . . . .
If I haven't mentioned it lately (and I haven't), a good way to find out what we're up to at CAGSE, particularly in the area of Classics is to visit Dr. Richard Gilder's site, Via Facilis.
Sarah Mooney and I run a Storytelling program that teaches close observation and drawing conclusions (otherwise known as analysis or critical thinking) through creative narrative. I'll tell you more about that soon.
Meanwhile, Richard said some very nice things about me here.
How can I not crow? Everyone should be so lucky to have such a colleague.
Sarah Mooney and I run a Storytelling program that teaches close observation and drawing conclusions (otherwise known as analysis or critical thinking) through creative narrative. I'll tell you more about that soon.
Meanwhile, Richard said some very nice things about me here.
How can I not crow? Everyone should be so lucky to have such a colleague.
Everything Old: Canons IV
So here's a surprising turn of events, particularly after the last series of posts on canons and women.
I've been approached to republish a piece on Mary Pix and the misattribution of a play called Zelmane that originally appeared in Notes and Queries. This is an Oxford publication specializing in arcane details and footnotes that become articles from lack of relevance to the paper for which it was originally intended.
The piece will now go in a university textbook that lists "literature" from 1400 to 1800.
The anti-canonical becomes standard -- probably from boredom with what we've always studied.
Like language, "great" books change as we do.
I've been approached to republish a piece on Mary Pix and the misattribution of a play called Zelmane that originally appeared in Notes and Queries. This is an Oxford publication specializing in arcane details and footnotes that become articles from lack of relevance to the paper for which it was originally intended.
The piece will now go in a university textbook that lists "literature" from 1400 to 1800.
The anti-canonical becomes standard -- probably from boredom with what we've always studied.
Like language, "great" books change as we do.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Susanna Centlivre: Canons, III
Continuing from the last post and hoping not to belabor the point, we're gathered here to discuss the ways in which canon's are constructed and the requirement of transcendence in art.
Sounds a lot loftier than it is -- in fact, it's all rather predictable with what we know about human beings and their need to be right.
Where We Came From
As I mentioned in earlier posts, intellectual convictions often house emotional reactions but make claims to higher truths through the use of inpenetrable language.
If there isn't any hanging around, you can always make some up. T.S. Eliot's objective correlative, the French critics' priority in absences of presences, and so on.
(As a post-grad, friends of mine and I were going to do a video called Graduate School for Dummies along these lines -- highlighting the one or two ideas hidden cleverly in hundreds of pages of labored and precariously structured sentences.)
Running with the Woolfs
A previous post discusses a bit of Woolf's partial criteria that she claims are the signs of objectively beautiful and transcendent art.
Here's the strongest example of the way canons are made or broken.
Shakespeare's Sister
One of the most quoted and best remembered chapters Woolf wrote in any book is the one on Shakespeare's sister ("let's call her Judith") in A Room of One's Own.
Woolf uses the story to slam home all of the points she's made thus far -- women capable of "transcendent art" could have done if they had had the same opportunities as men.
Judith wants to write, but she's locked in her room by her parents and told she'll marry or else. She escapes through the window and educates herself at Cambridge dressed as a boy. She makes her way to London where a theater manager "takes pity on her."
Pregnant and without hope, Judith kills herself and lies buried at the crossroads of Elephant and Castle.
Honorable Mention
Susanna Centlivre has the same composite fictional biography as Judith. Although she lived a bit later, Centlivre supposedly ran away from home, studied at Cambridge dressed as a boy, and came to London to marry the cook at Queen Anne's Court.
The difference is that Centlivre really did become "the second woman of the English stage" after Aphra Behn. Her plays were in regular repertory until the end of the 19th C in England, and every library of note will lend you any one of her dramas.
David Garrick did his farewell performance in one of her plays. You don't get much more prestigious in the theater than that.
Centlivre was also a woman of letters whose words were seen in the popular press with those of men such as Sterne and Swift. With Woolf's knowledge history -- even of obscure writers such as Cavendish -- she had to know of Centlivre. So why did Woolf neglect to mention her at all?
Maybe because Centlivre's existence, like Cavendish's worthiness (something of which I believe Woolf was not convinced, of course), derails Woolf's argument connecting transcendence to fame and women writers to both.
Just a theory.
And that's how canon's are made. Or unmade.
All other great examples are welcome -- please send any you know of by email.
Sounds a lot loftier than it is -- in fact, it's all rather predictable with what we know about human beings and their need to be right.
Where We Came From
As I mentioned in earlier posts, intellectual convictions often house emotional reactions but make claims to higher truths through the use of inpenetrable language.
If there isn't any hanging around, you can always make some up. T.S. Eliot's objective correlative, the French critics' priority in absences of presences, and so on.
(As a post-grad, friends of mine and I were going to do a video called Graduate School for Dummies along these lines -- highlighting the one or two ideas hidden cleverly in hundreds of pages of labored and precariously structured sentences.)
Running with the Woolfs
A previous post discusses a bit of Woolf's partial criteria that she claims are the signs of objectively beautiful and transcendent art.
Here's the strongest example of the way canons are made or broken.
Shakespeare's Sister
One of the most quoted and best remembered chapters Woolf wrote in any book is the one on Shakespeare's sister ("let's call her Judith") in A Room of One's Own.
Woolf uses the story to slam home all of the points she's made thus far -- women capable of "transcendent art" could have done if they had had the same opportunities as men.
Judith wants to write, but she's locked in her room by her parents and told she'll marry or else. She escapes through the window and educates herself at Cambridge dressed as a boy. She makes her way to London where a theater manager "takes pity on her."
Pregnant and without hope, Judith kills herself and lies buried at the crossroads of Elephant and Castle.
Honorable Mention
Susanna Centlivre has the same composite fictional biography as Judith. Although she lived a bit later, Centlivre supposedly ran away from home, studied at Cambridge dressed as a boy, and came to London to marry the cook at Queen Anne's Court.
The difference is that Centlivre really did become "the second woman of the English stage" after Aphra Behn. Her plays were in regular repertory until the end of the 19th C in England, and every library of note will lend you any one of her dramas.
David Garrick did his farewell performance in one of her plays. You don't get much more prestigious in the theater than that.
Centlivre was also a woman of letters whose words were seen in the popular press with those of men such as Sterne and Swift. With Woolf's knowledge history -- even of obscure writers such as Cavendish -- she had to know of Centlivre. So why did Woolf neglect to mention her at all?
Maybe because Centlivre's existence, like Cavendish's worthiness (something of which I believe Woolf was not convinced, of course), derails Woolf's argument connecting transcendence to fame and women writers to both.
Just a theory.
And that's how canon's are made. Or unmade.
All other great examples are welcome -- please send any you know of by email.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Canons II: How Do You Know That They're Loaded?
Continuing from the last post, why had no one heard of Susanna Centlivre when she was in regular repertory throughout the 19th C in England? When David Garrick had given his farewell performance in one of her plays? When she was known (until that time) as the second woman of the English stage?
This point, for those of you who have just tuned in, is certainly arcane. But it is a good example of the ways in which canons are constructed.
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Virginia Woolf did women writers a great service by writing A Room of One's Own. In it, she created a space that has been broadened yearly for women to be recognized as artists equal to their male equivalents.
Women, Woolf says, require the same independence as men in order to create high art. How can anyone (man or woman) create anything of note if their time is divided among changing diapers and cooking meals -- without peace, quiet, and solitude to think?
All anyone needs, Woolf says, is 50 pounds and a room of one's own.
Not So Fast
If this were all, I'd be right behind Mme. Woolf. However, there is another requirement for women's art to rate. It must be transcendent.
Transcendence in Woolf's terms are really that of TS Eliot -- no everyday sorts of activities unless they are rendered symbolic in some way. That leaves 99% of women in history out of the ball game. Their lives were made up entirely of quotidien responsibilities, behaviors, and results.
In short, "transcendence" is gendered masculine here -- only those with particular educations and public lives could write about life outside the home.
An Example
Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, a 17thC noblewoman, lived as public a life as was possible at that time. Only Aphra Behn, Restoration playwright and spy for Charles II, had a broader life. However, Behn's life made her notorious and Cavendish remained in society, even if she was considered a bit eccentric for her intellectual pursuits and writing.
Cavendish visited the Royal Society and saw Boyle do his experiments, and she made attempts at philosophy and poetry. However, her crowning achievement was a volume of 20 plays that are more modern than anything before the 20th century.
Cavendish's vision doesn't suit Woolf's. In fact, Woolf dismisses her in A Room of One's Own as the Mad Woman in the Attic.
In this way, Woolf buried Cavendish and her work for 4 and a half centuries. I wrote about her (and many other literary types who also saw the Virago volume) because she belongs in the history of remarkable women writers.
Soon, she'll be back in the canon. Officially. When a book comes out called The Great Book of Women Writers Through History or The Norton Reader of Women Writers -- or another such explicitly authoritative sort of name.
Well, people will say, it's in the book, so it must be true.
That's how canon's are fired.
And there's an even a more explicit example in the next post.
This point, for those of you who have just tuned in, is certainly arcane. But it is a good example of the ways in which canons are constructed.
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Virginia Woolf did women writers a great service by writing A Room of One's Own. In it, she created a space that has been broadened yearly for women to be recognized as artists equal to their male equivalents.
Women, Woolf says, require the same independence as men in order to create high art. How can anyone (man or woman) create anything of note if their time is divided among changing diapers and cooking meals -- without peace, quiet, and solitude to think?
All anyone needs, Woolf says, is 50 pounds and a room of one's own.
Not So Fast
If this were all, I'd be right behind Mme. Woolf. However, there is another requirement for women's art to rate. It must be transcendent.
Transcendence in Woolf's terms are really that of TS Eliot -- no everyday sorts of activities unless they are rendered symbolic in some way. That leaves 99% of women in history out of the ball game. Their lives were made up entirely of quotidien responsibilities, behaviors, and results.
In short, "transcendence" is gendered masculine here -- only those with particular educations and public lives could write about life outside the home.
An Example
Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, a 17thC noblewoman, lived as public a life as was possible at that time. Only Aphra Behn, Restoration playwright and spy for Charles II, had a broader life. However, Behn's life made her notorious and Cavendish remained in society, even if she was considered a bit eccentric for her intellectual pursuits and writing.
Cavendish visited the Royal Society and saw Boyle do his experiments, and she made attempts at philosophy and poetry. However, her crowning achievement was a volume of 20 plays that are more modern than anything before the 20th century.
Cavendish's vision doesn't suit Woolf's. In fact, Woolf dismisses her in A Room of One's Own as the Mad Woman in the Attic.
In this way, Woolf buried Cavendish and her work for 4 and a half centuries. I wrote about her (and many other literary types who also saw the Virago volume) because she belongs in the history of remarkable women writers.
Soon, she'll be back in the canon. Officially. When a book comes out called The Great Book of Women Writers Through History or The Norton Reader of Women Writers -- or another such explicitly authoritative sort of name.
Well, people will say, it's in the book, so it must be true.
That's how canon's are fired.
And there's an even a more explicit example in the next post.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Taking a Shot at a Loaded Canon
I took a long walk with a good friend, and the subject came up of the ways in which canons are constructed. Is there such a thing as transendence in art -- some aesthetic representation that are universally moving?
TS Eliot certainly thought so. As it happens, so did my very famous and well-respected friend.
But is the rest of art more than a wasteland?
The Back Story
I wrote my dissertation on four playwrights that I had found in a volume published by Virago entirely by chance when I arrived early for a lunch appointment.
The playwrights are Susanna Centlivre, Mary Pix, Catherine Trotter, Mary Delariviere Manley, and Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle.
I had a feeling that if I hadn't heard of them, very few other people had either. So I decided to see what there was to know.
True But Not Clever
The short version is this:
Male critics had taken these women out of the cannon because of disdain for their sex, their plays, or both.
There was much more information from feminist critics. The problem is that they had also taken the playwrights out of context to lionize them. It was a mixed bag -- 19th C critics who had run out of road projected 19th C theories backward on the 18th and 17th centuries. Their history was bad, and the conclusions were just wrong. 20th C feminist critics projected contemporary literary theory on drama and drama history.
The whole thing was a mess. I decided to simply put these plays back in context to see what happened. Seemed so obvious, really.
Who Knew?
This work was full of surprises. One of the playwrights, Susanna Centlivre, had been performed in regular repertory in England until the end of the 19th C. David Garrick had done his farewell performance in one of her plays. She was a woman of letters yakking it up with the likes of Jonathan Swift.
Why hadn't anyone ever heard of her?
More in the next post.
TS Eliot certainly thought so. As it happens, so did my very famous and well-respected friend.
But is the rest of art more than a wasteland?
The Back Story
I wrote my dissertation on four playwrights that I had found in a volume published by Virago entirely by chance when I arrived early for a lunch appointment.
The playwrights are Susanna Centlivre, Mary Pix, Catherine Trotter, Mary Delariviere Manley, and Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle.
I had a feeling that if I hadn't heard of them, very few other people had either. So I decided to see what there was to know.
True But Not Clever
The short version is this:
Male critics had taken these women out of the cannon because of disdain for their sex, their plays, or both.
There was much more information from feminist critics. The problem is that they had also taken the playwrights out of context to lionize them. It was a mixed bag -- 19th C critics who had run out of road projected 19th C theories backward on the 18th and 17th centuries. Their history was bad, and the conclusions were just wrong. 20th C feminist critics projected contemporary literary theory on drama and drama history.
The whole thing was a mess. I decided to simply put these plays back in context to see what happened. Seemed so obvious, really.
Who Knew?
This work was full of surprises. One of the playwrights, Susanna Centlivre, had been performed in regular repertory in England until the end of the 19th C. David Garrick had done his farewell performance in one of her plays. She was a woman of letters yakking it up with the likes of Jonathan Swift.
Why hadn't anyone ever heard of her?
More in the next post.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Spelling: The Sequel
Dictionary Evangelist
Erin McKean is a lexicographer and entertaining conference speaker.
When first I encountered her two years ago at GEL, she began her talk by addressing a common misconceptions about her work.
"People often think that lexicographers prescribe meaning and keep the language as pure as possible. In fact, we research the way language is used -- in all sorts of media -- and we chart how language changes."
With this in mind, Erin's views on spelling are generous. See the last post for details on how to let yourself off the hook, regardless of how often others wince at the way you put letters together in writing
When Last We Saw Our Hero . . .
Erin is working as an independent assessor for CAGSE's Latin programs in primary school. The success of the pilot, running in 15 schools across London, will be measured both by her and by another independent assessor and former head of the Primary Trust, Peter Frost.
The first rule in business: If you haven't measured it, it never happened.
And So
Erin and I had supper at Carluccio's (for those of you who visit London occasionally -- there are quite a few, and the food is consistently good without being expensive).
I was interested to hear about her day in the schools.
We got on the subject of spelling and spell checks.
"Spell checks are terrible," said Erin, "and even if someone were to design a good one, people wouldn't use it anyway."
I asked why. She explained it thus:
It's very similar to the way a smoke alarm goes off every time you make toast. How many times has such a device been dismantled, never to be seen again?
The spell check is very much like a smoke alarm that demands attention every time one writes anything. It's annoying. So you ignore it.
Happens to be true for me, and I'm a lousy speller.
So Why Are Those of Us Not Blessed With the Spelling Gene So Bad At Catching Mistakes, Even When We Try?
Erin has given this a lot of thought. "Fixing your spelling requires that you know that you don't know how to spell a word (which means checking a lot of false positives from your spell checker) ... how often do you know that you don't know something, when it's something you're not good at in the first place?"
And the alternative?
"I think we need two things: better spell checkers (no false positives) and more leniency for typos/thinkos/spellos."
Leniency for Spellos. I'd vote for the person who ran for president on that ticket (Why do you hate freedom?).
So many jokes I could make about the thinkos of the White House's current inhabitant, but it's just too easy. I'm just not that kind of girl.
More in the next post on spelling, dictionaries, and the enlightenment.
Erin McKean is a lexicographer and entertaining conference speaker.
When first I encountered her two years ago at GEL, she began her talk by addressing a common misconceptions about her work.
"People often think that lexicographers prescribe meaning and keep the language as pure as possible. In fact, we research the way language is used -- in all sorts of media -- and we chart how language changes."
With this in mind, Erin's views on spelling are generous. See the last post for details on how to let yourself off the hook, regardless of how often others wince at the way you put letters together in writing
When Last We Saw Our Hero . . .
Erin is working as an independent assessor for CAGSE's Latin programs in primary school. The success of the pilot, running in 15 schools across London, will be measured both by her and by another independent assessor and former head of the Primary Trust, Peter Frost.
The first rule in business: If you haven't measured it, it never happened.
And So
Erin and I had supper at Carluccio's (for those of you who visit London occasionally -- there are quite a few, and the food is consistently good without being expensive).
I was interested to hear about her day in the schools.
We got on the subject of spelling and spell checks.
"Spell checks are terrible," said Erin, "and even if someone were to design a good one, people wouldn't use it anyway."
I asked why. She explained it thus:
It's very similar to the way a smoke alarm goes off every time you make toast. How many times has such a device been dismantled, never to be seen again?
The spell check is very much like a smoke alarm that demands attention every time one writes anything. It's annoying. So you ignore it.
Happens to be true for me, and I'm a lousy speller.
So Why Are Those of Us Not Blessed With the Spelling Gene So Bad At Catching Mistakes, Even When We Try?
Erin has given this a lot of thought. "Fixing your spelling requires that you know that you don't know how to spell a word (which means checking a lot of false positives from your spell checker) ... how often do you know that you don't know something, when it's something you're not good at in the first place?"
And the alternative?
"I think we need two things: better spell checkers (no false positives) and more leniency for typos/thinkos/spellos."
Leniency for Spellos. I'd vote for the person who ran for president on that ticket (Why do you hate freedom?).
So many jokes I could make about the thinkos of the White House's current inhabitant, but it's just too easy. I'm just not that kind of girl.
More in the next post on spelling, dictionaries, and the enlightenment.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
"A" is For Apple (And Also for Adapt)
Spelling it Out
There have been debates in education at least since the 1960's over whether or not demanding proper spelling will block children's creative impulses.
One side posits that children should write in whatever form they like without reference to grammatical or linguistic standards practiced by (some) adults. In what other time of life is it possible to be free to express feelings, thoughts, ideas without fear of censure from authority?
The other side of the argument says that without enforcing spelling rules, children don't learn self-discipline.
The Dictionary Evangelist
Erin McKean, Dictionary Evangelist -- and lexicographer for Oxford University Press -- feels that good spellers have made life unnecessarily uncomfortable for those without the same talent.
"It's genetic," she told me at dinner, "like being able to roll your tongue or bend your first knuckle back."
Erin's concern is that that those with this genetic gift -- or (worse) those who have beaten into submission without benefit of it -- have created an unrelenting sense of morality about getting words right. This peculiar zeal (and the opinion about spelling that is its source) are apparently only apparent for those who evangelize about English.
"There's a sense that if you misspell a word, you're being lazy or just don't care."
And how many of the seven deadly sins will then collect in such an atmosphere of sloth?
The demand for fortitude extends to moralizing about spell checks. Spell checks are dangerous because they encourage slovenliness of mind. They clean one's dirty laundry that would otherwise be hanging out for everyone to see. And we should clean our own laundry, by gum.
I couldn't help wondering if these puritans of metaphor had ever hired cleaners for their homes.
How consistent are these religious principles anyway?
Discipline Shmiscipline
Erin suggests that that spelling is really only one discipline among many. If good spellers took their argument to the logical conclusion, it would be absurd.
"Should we say shoes are immoral, too? That if we were just disciplined enough to toughen up our feet, we could all walk around barefoot?"
According to Erin, language changes as people need it to change. Dictionaries do not prescribe meaning but instead describe the ways in which words have transformed and are used every day.
So those who sniff at new and alternative spellings when they see them in their OED are simply hardened reactionaries, condemned to a life of mounting disappointment and increasing despair.
More in the next post.
There have been debates in education at least since the 1960's over whether or not demanding proper spelling will block children's creative impulses.
One side posits that children should write in whatever form they like without reference to grammatical or linguistic standards practiced by (some) adults. In what other time of life is it possible to be free to express feelings, thoughts, ideas without fear of censure from authority?
The other side of the argument says that without enforcing spelling rules, children don't learn self-discipline.
The Dictionary Evangelist
Erin McKean, Dictionary Evangelist -- and lexicographer for Oxford University Press -- feels that good spellers have made life unnecessarily uncomfortable for those without the same talent.
"It's genetic," she told me at dinner, "like being able to roll your tongue or bend your first knuckle back."
Erin's concern is that that those with this genetic gift -- or (worse) those who have beaten into submission without benefit of it -- have created an unrelenting sense of morality about getting words right. This peculiar zeal (and the opinion about spelling that is its source) are apparently only apparent for those who evangelize about English.
"There's a sense that if you misspell a word, you're being lazy or just don't care."
And how many of the seven deadly sins will then collect in such an atmosphere of sloth?
The demand for fortitude extends to moralizing about spell checks. Spell checks are dangerous because they encourage slovenliness of mind. They clean one's dirty laundry that would otherwise be hanging out for everyone to see. And we should clean our own laundry, by gum.
I couldn't help wondering if these puritans of metaphor had ever hired cleaners for their homes.
How consistent are these religious principles anyway?
Discipline Shmiscipline
Erin suggests that that spelling is really only one discipline among many. If good spellers took their argument to the logical conclusion, it would be absurd.
"Should we say shoes are immoral, too? That if we were just disciplined enough to toughen up our feet, we could all walk around barefoot?"
According to Erin, language changes as people need it to change. Dictionaries do not prescribe meaning but instead describe the ways in which words have transformed and are used every day.
So those who sniff at new and alternative spellings when they see them in their OED are simply hardened reactionaries, condemned to a life of mounting disappointment and increasing despair.
More in the next post.
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