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.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
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.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
For Those of You Who Love Language, A Treat
Erin McKean, a consultant assessor for our Latin programs in State schools, has a most wonderful blog called Dictionary Evangelist.
Subscribe if you love language -- it's consistently a lot of fun.
Subscribe if you love language -- it's consistently a lot of fun.
Transition Year Challenges: Mapping the Journey
Continuing from the last post . . . .
I spoke to an arts organization in London's East End, and they are interested in working with CAGSE on a mapping project for transition-year children we work with in our storytelling program. This program I've designed and implement with a professional storyteller called Sarah Mooney.
The Program
The Storytelling program does a number of things, all at once:
1. Raising children's awareness of how they think, how they feel, and the relationship between the two. This allows them to be responsible for the choices they make -- once they understand how they make them.
2. Offering children ownership over creative efforts that are often prescribed.
3. Giving children practice being more observant. Most people get lost in the process of analytic work somewhere between observation and drawing conclusions. Heighten sensitivity to the world around you, understand the importance of looking closely at detail, and you're less likely to take short cuts. This alone develops habits for more rigorous analysis of problems and makes it more likely we'll solve them in a satisfying way.
3. Offering teachers ways to enhance their own good work through somatic learning strategies. If we learn best by understanding concepts in different contexts, why not get the information in to the body as well as through the ears into the head?
4. Offering teachers ways new ways to approach subjects that are hardest to teach -- critical thinking, grammar, and writing, citizenship, and self-esteem.
We offer this program to schools to put in a literacy slot within the curriculum. It both develops literacy skills and works towards the requirements of the SEAL program currently being rolled out for the good of children's emotional development.
Getting the Program on a Map
It's likely that in January CAGSE will be working with Chris Nold to do emotional mapping of neighborhoods around a school through intergenerational walks -- within the school as well.
If Chris's and our past work is anything to go by, the project will give children and parents (or grandparents) a bigger context in which to see themselves as individuals, their relationship with school, and their place in the physical environment at home and in and around academic work.
Sarah and I will then build the storytelling work around negotiating identity within families, within schools structure, and as children move on to secondary school from the comfort of a familiar primary school environment.
More in the next post . . .
I spoke to an arts organization in London's East End, and they are interested in working with CAGSE on a mapping project for transition-year children we work with in our storytelling program. This program I've designed and implement with a professional storyteller called Sarah Mooney.
The Program
The Storytelling program does a number of things, all at once:
1. Raising children's awareness of how they think, how they feel, and the relationship between the two. This allows them to be responsible for the choices they make -- once they understand how they make them.
2. Offering children ownership over creative efforts that are often prescribed.
3. Giving children practice being more observant. Most people get lost in the process of analytic work somewhere between observation and drawing conclusions. Heighten sensitivity to the world around you, understand the importance of looking closely at detail, and you're less likely to take short cuts. This alone develops habits for more rigorous analysis of problems and makes it more likely we'll solve them in a satisfying way.
3. Offering teachers ways to enhance their own good work through somatic learning strategies. If we learn best by understanding concepts in different contexts, why not get the information in to the body as well as through the ears into the head?
4. Offering teachers ways new ways to approach subjects that are hardest to teach -- critical thinking, grammar, and writing, citizenship, and self-esteem.
We offer this program to schools to put in a literacy slot within the curriculum. It both develops literacy skills and works towards the requirements of the SEAL program currently being rolled out for the good of children's emotional development.
Getting the Program on a Map
It's likely that in January CAGSE will be working with Chris Nold to do emotional mapping of neighborhoods around a school through intergenerational walks -- within the school as well.
If Chris's and our past work is anything to go by, the project will give children and parents (or grandparents) a bigger context in which to see themselves as individuals, their relationship with school, and their place in the physical environment at home and in and around academic work.
Sarah and I will then build the storytelling work around negotiating identity within families, within schools structure, and as children move on to secondary school from the comfort of a familiar primary school environment.
More in the next post . . .
Friday, November 23, 2007
Emotional Cartography: In and Outside the Classroom
Continuing from the last post . . . .
I met with Chris Nold a week or so ago to discuss the possibility of working on a project within the storytelling work we do at CAGSE.
Most learning challenges for children are emotional rather than intellectual. What if we could help kids learn better by visually mapping the way they learn?
The Order of Chaos
In the creative process, there is always a point at which one steps into unknown territory. Writers often call it a block, but everyone knows that feeling of frustration when you've walked out of what you know and are not yet where you want to go.
Most of the time, this state causes anxiety, stress, and despair. It doesn't matter how many journeys of this kind we've made -- somehow, each time, we believe the state of not knowing will never end.
Once acknowledged, adults have the cognitive resources -- both intellectual and emotional -- to remind themselves that they've done this before, to remember the moment when they last found their way, and that no one exists in a limbo of uncertainty forever.
In other words, adults have the reasoning abilities (and one hopes, the practice) to know that change is inevitable.
What if there were a way to help children understand and remember this as well? Would this allow them to be feel comfortable with more risk and be more creative?
More in the next post.
I met with Chris Nold a week or so ago to discuss the possibility of working on a project within the storytelling work we do at CAGSE.
Most learning challenges for children are emotional rather than intellectual. What if we could help kids learn better by visually mapping the way they learn?
The Order of Chaos
In the creative process, there is always a point at which one steps into unknown territory. Writers often call it a block, but everyone knows that feeling of frustration when you've walked out of what you know and are not yet where you want to go.
Most of the time, this state causes anxiety, stress, and despair. It doesn't matter how many journeys of this kind we've made -- somehow, each time, we believe the state of not knowing will never end.
Once acknowledged, adults have the cognitive resources -- both intellectual and emotional -- to remind themselves that they've done this before, to remember the moment when they last found their way, and that no one exists in a limbo of uncertainty forever.
In other words, adults have the reasoning abilities (and one hopes, the practice) to know that change is inevitable.
What if there were a way to help children understand and remember this as well? Would this allow them to be feel comfortable with more risk and be more creative?
More in the next post.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Mapping Order from Chaos: Chris Nold
Pop Tech
I'm not sure how many of you have seen Kate Bulkley's article on Pop Tech in Guardian, but it's certainly worth taking a look. Of all the pieces I've seen, this one gives the closest picture to my experience of the conference -- both in content and energy.
Chris Nold
One of the most impressive speakers spoke the first day -- Chris Nold, who does emotional mapping of cities. Chris is interested in cities: what -- essentially -- is a city? What makes one city different from another? What makes one neighborhood stand out in one way while others don't?
It's not the buildings alone, Chris contends. It's the relationship between and among people and the environment.
Mapping It
Chris has created a machine that measures adrenaline as people walk around a neighborhood. Get enough people taking the same walk, record what they say, and you can map the overlaps and differences that make that neighborhood unique.
If this explanation is too abstract, please look here.
The results are extraordinary. More in the next post.
I'm not sure how many of you have seen Kate Bulkley's article on Pop Tech in Guardian, but it's certainly worth taking a look. Of all the pieces I've seen, this one gives the closest picture to my experience of the conference -- both in content and energy.
Chris Nold
One of the most impressive speakers spoke the first day -- Chris Nold, who does emotional mapping of cities. Chris is interested in cities: what -- essentially -- is a city? What makes one city different from another? What makes one neighborhood stand out in one way while others don't?
It's not the buildings alone, Chris contends. It's the relationship between and among people and the environment.
Mapping It
Chris has created a machine that measures adrenaline as people walk around a neighborhood. Get enough people taking the same walk, record what they say, and you can map the overlaps and differences that make that neighborhood unique.
If this explanation is too abstract, please look here.
The results are extraordinary. More in the next post.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Speaking of Latin (and in it) . . .
The CEO of CAGSE, Dr. Richard Gilder, contends that the reason Classics are no longer taught in schools is the way they HAVE been taught to date.
There are plenty of academic torments we endure that have no immediately apparent application to day-to-day life. In fact, of all of these academic abstractions, Latin has the clearest relevance of all -- knowledge of it can faciliatate communication and understanding in whichever Romance language you speak.
And it works in English, too.
There's nothing that I can post that will match the blogs of the primary school kids with whom we work. These are all pupils who would not ordinarily have access to learning Latin, and through CAGSE have begun the language as a new adventure.
See what they have to say.
There are plenty of academic torments we endure that have no immediately apparent application to day-to-day life. In fact, of all of these academic abstractions, Latin has the clearest relevance of all -- knowledge of it can faciliatate communication and understanding in whichever Romance language you speak.
And it works in English, too.
There's nothing that I can post that will match the blogs of the primary school kids with whom we work. These are all pupils who would not ordinarily have access to learning Latin, and through CAGSE have begun the language as a new adventure.
See what they have to say.
Spelling Out Enlightenment
In the last post, I discussed a conversation with Erin McKean, lexicographer and assessor for the CAGSE Latin programs in literacy.
Erin accuses good spellers of brutal moralizing -- using particular fixed meanings for words to instill shame and (they hope) submission and conformity to their points of view.
Erin thinks that good spellers have got their talent from one of their genes -- much in the same way that some people find it easier to do sums or match colors. Or they've been beaten and repressed so much that they want to impose the same treatment on others.
So Where Did It All Go Wrong?
Frankly, I blame Samuel Johnson.
As the first dictionary writer, he inevitably set a trend for those with a fear of change. Let's face it: Johnson believed in right and wrong. All of his epigrams, witty as they might be, inevitably moralize.
I mean really -- if a London dispatch rider is tired of London -- the smoke, the traffic, the congestion charge -- is he really, necessarily tired of life?
The Alternative
It's important to remember that Johnson wasn't the only 18th C thinker publishing like mad (and being read). The 18th C was one that was defined by an overarching argument about what it means to know.
There are those, like Johnson, Pope, and that crowd who defied change in meaning -- of custom, in fashion, and all the other things that went into building and maintaining the British Empire by force.
Then there was the other set -- Swift, Sterne, Susanna Centlivre and others -- who believed everything that one knows is defined by perspective.
Wouldn't advocacy of sort of play argue for a creative take on spelling and meaning?
And have you noticed that all (Western) arguments always come back to Plato and Aristotle?
More in the next post.
Erin accuses good spellers of brutal moralizing -- using particular fixed meanings for words to instill shame and (they hope) submission and conformity to their points of view.
Erin thinks that good spellers have got their talent from one of their genes -- much in the same way that some people find it easier to do sums or match colors. Or they've been beaten and repressed so much that they want to impose the same treatment on others.
So Where Did It All Go Wrong?
Frankly, I blame Samuel Johnson.
As the first dictionary writer, he inevitably set a trend for those with a fear of change. Let's face it: Johnson believed in right and wrong. All of his epigrams, witty as they might be, inevitably moralize.
I mean really -- if a London dispatch rider is tired of London -- the smoke, the traffic, the congestion charge -- is he really, necessarily tired of life?
The Alternative
It's important to remember that Johnson wasn't the only 18th C thinker publishing like mad (and being read). The 18th C was one that was defined by an overarching argument about what it means to know.
There are those, like Johnson, Pope, and that crowd who defied change in meaning -- of custom, in fashion, and all the other things that went into building and maintaining the British Empire by force.
Then there was the other set -- Swift, Sterne, Susanna Centlivre and others -- who believed everything that one knows is defined by perspective.
Wouldn't advocacy of sort of play argue for a creative take on spelling and meaning?
And have you noticed that all (Western) arguments always come back to Plato and Aristotle?
More in the next post.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Media Discretion: How to Use the Phone
Everyone uses the phone for business, but how?
As someone who worked in Silicon Alley in the early 90s, I felt quite sure that I understood online trends. I even wrote about them for a large consulting firm.
Clued in, me.
However, somehow I forgot all this when it came to training a high-level employee, very smart, but very young.
Young here doesn't mean immature: instead, it indicates a digital divide.
And I'm supposed to be an expert.
What Happened
From the first meeting I had with my employee (call him Joe) and our client, it was clear that he knew what he was doing. He had exceptional instincts.
Joe's job: new business development within educational communities.
In person he is an excellent communicator, and has good judgment about timing (when to say what to whom to greatest effect).
However, when I left Joe on his own, what I neglected to take into account in a majority of cases, he sent email rather than having real time conversation with new clients.
I'm talking voice here, of course, not text.
Lesson 1: How to Use the Phone
One day, I got four angry phone calls from three different people involved in the project. Every one of them seemed to be very upset about something entirely different.
Then I figured out that the common problem was none of the specifics explicitly stated in loud, angry voices.
It was email.
This Might Sound Obvious to Us (Not Even That Much) Older Folk . . .
At the root of every mess was the assumption that email 1) conveys transparently the intended meaning of the sender, 2) is read immediately, and 3) is the most effective way to communicate decisions.
It never occurred to my young executive to pick up the phone and find out what was going on.
We Lost the Client
Ultimately, it's my fault for not anticipating this problem. In fact, I've never trained anyone so young.
There was nothing wrong in the email in terms of what was said -- it was the fact that an email was sent at all.
I assumed that this sort of relationship management would be common sense to someone with Joe's flawless in-person communication skills.
But how would he learn media discretion if he only talks on the phone when text was unavailable?
Back to Pop Tech in the next post.
As someone who worked in Silicon Alley in the early 90s, I felt quite sure that I understood online trends. I even wrote about them for a large consulting firm.
Clued in, me.
However, somehow I forgot all this when it came to training a high-level employee, very smart, but very young.
Young here doesn't mean immature: instead, it indicates a digital divide.
And I'm supposed to be an expert.
What Happened
From the first meeting I had with my employee (call him Joe) and our client, it was clear that he knew what he was doing. He had exceptional instincts.
Joe's job: new business development within educational communities.
In person he is an excellent communicator, and has good judgment about timing (when to say what to whom to greatest effect).
However, when I left Joe on his own, what I neglected to take into account in a majority of cases, he sent email rather than having real time conversation with new clients.
I'm talking voice here, of course, not text.
Lesson 1: How to Use the Phone
One day, I got four angry phone calls from three different people involved in the project. Every one of them seemed to be very upset about something entirely different.
Then I figured out that the common problem was none of the specifics explicitly stated in loud, angry voices.
It was email.
This Might Sound Obvious to Us (Not Even That Much) Older Folk . . .
At the root of every mess was the assumption that email 1) conveys transparently the intended meaning of the sender, 2) is read immediately, and 3) is the most effective way to communicate decisions.
It never occurred to my young executive to pick up the phone and find out what was going on.
We Lost the Client
Ultimately, it's my fault for not anticipating this problem. In fact, I've never trained anyone so young.
There was nothing wrong in the email in terms of what was said -- it was the fact that an email was sent at all.
I assumed that this sort of relationship management would be common sense to someone with Joe's flawless in-person communication skills.
But how would he learn media discretion if he only talks on the phone when text was unavailable?
Back to Pop Tech in the next post.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
More on What (Not) to Say: American Education
Say No More
I read a provocative blog post this morning that talks about the criminal code in the US that (this blogger claims) has an effect on our personal relationships:
EVERYONE who lives in the USA knows that "we have the right to remain silent." That little prayer is from something called the Miranda ruling by the Supreme Court. If you get arrested, the cops have to advise you that you have the right to not testify against yourself, which is protected by the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution. The "Miranda warning" typically includes something like, "Anything you say can be used against you in court."
Bush and the Patriot Act seem relatively recent, and the widespread fear of being watched, held, saying the wrong thing in the US seems relatively recent.
However, I'd never thought about the Miranda Rights' potential influence on the American psyche, particularly when teaching children what's possible. American crime television and cinema often ends with the crook being caught with this particular mantra heard over a din (and it is chanted like a mantra).
After the British press yesterday reported that interventions in primary education have failed and testing is not useful (is anyone who isn't a politician surprised?), it's clearly not only Americans who need to encourage children to know what they think, say what they know, and not be afraid to see what others don't.
For Americans (and Viewers of American Crime Drama), What Alternative?
The idea wouldn't seem quite so provocative if it weren't for this question: what common chants encourage us to say what we think without threat of recrimination? And what implications does this have for kids who watch TV for much longer (and often much earlier) than they read?
I read a provocative blog post this morning that talks about the criminal code in the US that (this blogger claims) has an effect on our personal relationships:
EVERYONE who lives in the USA knows that "we have the right to remain silent." That little prayer is from something called the Miranda ruling by the Supreme Court. If you get arrested, the cops have to advise you that you have the right to not testify against yourself, which is protected by the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution. The "Miranda warning" typically includes something like, "Anything you say can be used against you in court."
Bush and the Patriot Act seem relatively recent, and the widespread fear of being watched, held, saying the wrong thing in the US seems relatively recent.
However, I'd never thought about the Miranda Rights' potential influence on the American psyche, particularly when teaching children what's possible. American crime television and cinema often ends with the crook being caught with this particular mantra heard over a din (and it is chanted like a mantra).
After the British press yesterday reported that interventions in primary education have failed and testing is not useful (is anyone who isn't a politician surprised?), it's clearly not only Americans who need to encourage children to know what they think, say what they know, and not be afraid to see what others don't.
For Americans (and Viewers of American Crime Drama), What Alternative?
The idea wouldn't seem quite so provocative if it weren't for this question: what common chants encourage us to say what we think without threat of recrimination? And what implications does this have for kids who watch TV for much longer (and often much earlier) than they read?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Woman Mentor, Anyone?
For Those Who Missed Having a Woman Mentor
Continuing from the last post . . .
Betsy Myers is the woman mentor I wish I had had -- in fact, I had many strong male mentors who gave me similar advice as she in the following passages but without the understanding of the differences between the way women and men think. For those of you looking for the entire piece, see Women and Leadership, p.67, this week's issue.
Here's what she said:
No one is going to invite you to the table; you have to take the initiative. That means you have to have a thick skin. Ninety-nine percent of the time it isn't personal. People aren't sitting around thinking how they can exclude you.
Some of it is common sense:
Do your homework. Know your issues. Know them better than anyone else. Study. Listen. Show up on time -- preferably early.
The Rest No One Ever Told Me (And I'm Not Alone)
When I interviewed a good friend who is also a high-ranking female executive, she told me she had to learn the following on her own -- I did, too, as did all the other women I know of my age:
Don't think you know everything. No one knows everything. Don't act like you know everything. Don't be afraid to ask questions and to be comfortable with what you don't know. Get experts to brief you and guide you on what you don't know. Your ability to get things done . . . is all about relationships. Our reputations follow us throughout our lives, so how you treat others will be remembered.
The piece ends with an a call for rewarding and praising a team when they deserve it because it is an underrated skill. This, along with the focus on relationship, has always been gendered female.
If It's Gendered Female, Why Say It?
The assumption for women of my generation -- and perhaps those after -- is that women have to do everything on their own or they will be seen as less capable than their male peers. So although most women might live their lives in one way outside the office, they are forced to relearn these precepts once they got to work.
Of course, some women aren't trained to be gendered female in the first place. But it's good management nonetheless.
On Meetings
How many people you manage follow this advice?
. . . don't think you need to be in every meeting. People make the mistake of thinking that if they're not in a meeting, they're not important or they're going to miss something. But if you go to every meeting, you don't get any work done. . . .
Don't talk in a meeting unless you have something to add. A lot of people think if they sit in a meeting and say nothing, people will think they don't know anything. And then say something that's not relevant just to participate.
Shorter and fewer meetings, anyone?
On Email
One skill I've spent a lot of time teaching women I manage (but not men) is how to write an email. I wish I had had these words to sum it up succinctly:
Don't send long, flowery e-mails. To be taken seriously as a woman, you have to understand how men's brains work. Be succinct in your response and very clear about what you're asking in the email.
Finally . . .
Perhaps my lack of female mentors makes this article resonate for me disproportionately. However, the fact that Myers talks about herself as a woman executive to other women -- without either condescending or pulling punches -- than seems very unusual to me.
What do you think?
Continuing from the last post . . .
Betsy Myers is the woman mentor I wish I had had -- in fact, I had many strong male mentors who gave me similar advice as she in the following passages but without the understanding of the differences between the way women and men think. For those of you looking for the entire piece, see Women and Leadership, p.67, this week's issue.
Here's what she said:
No one is going to invite you to the table; you have to take the initiative. That means you have to have a thick skin. Ninety-nine percent of the time it isn't personal. People aren't sitting around thinking how they can exclude you.
Some of it is common sense:
Do your homework. Know your issues. Know them better than anyone else. Study. Listen. Show up on time -- preferably early.
The Rest No One Ever Told Me (And I'm Not Alone)
When I interviewed a good friend who is also a high-ranking female executive, she told me she had to learn the following on her own -- I did, too, as did all the other women I know of my age:
Don't think you know everything. No one knows everything. Don't act like you know everything. Don't be afraid to ask questions and to be comfortable with what you don't know. Get experts to brief you and guide you on what you don't know. Your ability to get things done . . . is all about relationships. Our reputations follow us throughout our lives, so how you treat others will be remembered.
The piece ends with an a call for rewarding and praising a team when they deserve it because it is an underrated skill. This, along with the focus on relationship, has always been gendered female.
If It's Gendered Female, Why Say It?
The assumption for women of my generation -- and perhaps those after -- is that women have to do everything on their own or they will be seen as less capable than their male peers. So although most women might live their lives in one way outside the office, they are forced to relearn these precepts once they got to work.
Of course, some women aren't trained to be gendered female in the first place. But it's good management nonetheless.
On Meetings
How many people you manage follow this advice?
. . . don't think you need to be in every meeting. People make the mistake of thinking that if they're not in a meeting, they're not important or they're going to miss something. But if you go to every meeting, you don't get any work done. . . .
Don't talk in a meeting unless you have something to add. A lot of people think if they sit in a meeting and say nothing, people will think they don't know anything. And then say something that's not relevant just to participate.
Shorter and fewer meetings, anyone?
On Email
One skill I've spent a lot of time teaching women I manage (but not men) is how to write an email. I wish I had had these words to sum it up succinctly:
Don't send long, flowery e-mails. To be taken seriously as a woman, you have to understand how men's brains work. Be succinct in your response and very clear about what you're asking in the email.
Finally . . .
Perhaps my lack of female mentors makes this article resonate for me disproportionately. However, the fact that Myers talks about herself as a woman executive to other women -- without either condescending or pulling punches -- than seems very unusual to me.
What do you think?
Lessons in Leadership: Newsweek?
There's so much more to tell about Pop Tech, but first, a note on an article on everyone lips when I got to New York after the conference.
It's been a long time since so many people I know have read Newsweek and were discussing it in extremes. It's not a bad publication, but let's face it -- it's not exactly the first magazine you'd expect the digirati to be going on about.
I Usually Don't Pick Up Magazines Before Getting on a Plane (Airport Prices . . . )
. . . however, I picked up a Newseek on the way from London to Maine for the Pop Tech conference because it promised to reveal the principles by which women leaders do their thing.
Most of the articles spoke in platitudes, so I looked hopefully to the piece in which women speak for themselves.
The Political Becomes Personal
Betty Friedan wrote an article for the New York Times a few years ago about the death of feminism. OK, the word itself seems dated and has come to represent individual stridency rather than political necessity. But for Friedan, "individual" was the key challenge for post '70s women: problems that so recently had been seen as political are now being internalized by women as personal. There's no sense that a collective
Unremarkable, then, that almost all gave their parents at least some of the credit for the confidence to pursue paths untried. Equally unsurprising, each focused primarily on individual autobiographical details that set them apart from other men AND women. Women mentoring seemed more an anomaly than something one should expect. The political has become personal in all but format.
However Betsy Myers made me feel I had got my money's worth. More in the next post.
It's been a long time since so many people I know have read Newsweek and were discussing it in extremes. It's not a bad publication, but let's face it -- it's not exactly the first magazine you'd expect the digirati to be going on about.
I Usually Don't Pick Up Magazines Before Getting on a Plane (Airport Prices . . . )
. . . however, I picked up a Newseek on the way from London to Maine for the Pop Tech conference because it promised to reveal the principles by which women leaders do their thing.
Most of the articles spoke in platitudes, so I looked hopefully to the piece in which women speak for themselves.
The Political Becomes Personal
Betty Friedan wrote an article for the New York Times a few years ago about the death of feminism. OK, the word itself seems dated and has come to represent individual stridency rather than political necessity. But for Friedan, "individual" was the key challenge for post '70s women: problems that so recently had been seen as political are now being internalized by women as personal. There's no sense that a collective
Unremarkable, then, that almost all gave their parents at least some of the credit for the confidence to pursue paths untried. Equally unsurprising, each focused primarily on individual autobiographical details that set them apart from other men AND women. Women mentoring seemed more an anomaly than something one should expect. The political has become personal in all but format.
However Betsy Myers made me feel I had got my money's worth. More in the next post.
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