HIATUS

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Mother’s Day: The absentee mother in literature

Today is Mother’s Day. I hope all of you mums out there have had a lovely day (or for those of you in the Northern Hemisphere – I hope it is a lovely one!) and that the people to which you gave life have thanked you for that precious gift.

This morning (after I was lucky enough to receive a new teapot … filled with chai and accompanied by some lovely croissants!) I thought about writing a post about the mothers I have been inspired by from works of literature. And I came up short. I thought carefully about the novels that I have most recently read, focusing on the mothers and mother-figures within. And I discovered a phenomenon which I am sure is not new (haven’t googled it yet but I reckon google scholar will have numerous entries on the topic) … the absentee mother in literature. There are no mothers in so many texts. The mother-figure is either missing entirely or replaced by a surrogate, usually not an entirely effective replacement.

Time for a little personal confession. I have an absentee mother. She decided to leave me and my three siblings in the care of my father when I was nine. As an adult I now know that she had a bunch of reasons (and issues) that led to her decision. I have spoken openly about this with my mum, and even though I have forgiven her and we get on really well, I haven’t forgotten and I know that her absence has shaped who I am today.

On Tuesday night I finished rereading the quintessential missing-mother novel. No, not Shelley’s Frankenstein yet this novel is of the same era and genre (Romantic Gothic) … Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. I’m not going to go all literary academic on you (cos I’ll just make a git of myself, not having the capacity to sustain a decent argument) rather, I just wanna point out the impact that an absentee mother has on all of the main characters. Older Catherine loses her mother at a young age, and her soul-mate Heathcliff similarly has no mother – he enters the narrative as a orphan cared for only by Mr Earnshaw (who soon dies). What difference would the influence of a loving, compassionate and emotionally available mother have had on these two unstable characters? Is it possible that their fate may have been different? Other mother-less characters include the young Catherine, young Linton Heathcliff and Hareton Earnshaw. Even the supposedly noble Nelly Dean is motherless and whilst she adopts the role of surrogate mother for Hareton when he is very young and later the younger Catherine, she has many biases, is often overly concerned with herself and is often physically separated from her charges that she fails to effectively replicate the mother-figure in the lives of either. It’s important to note that Emily Bronte lost her own mother when she was three years old.

The other novel I am reading (and teaching) at the moment that famously features an absentee mother is The Catcher in the Rye. Holden’s mother does appear in the novel – when she tells her 10 year old daughter Phoebe not to smoke – however she is primarily absent. That absence is as much emotional (for Holden) as it is physical … she has become distant since the death of Holden’s younger brother, Allie. Now Holden’s mum is an interesting example of this phenomenon. She seems to try to connect with Holden – she bought him some ice skates but they were the wrong type – but she clearly fails. Holden is distressed about upsetting her – he’s recently been kicked out of another high school – because he knows she is easily upset and most likely suffers from depression. When Holden suffers in the novel, he suffers alone. He does not seek solace in a close relationship with his mother, rather he seeks this with his younger sister Phoebe, and to some extent with older males who he respects for various reasons (early in the novel it is Old Spencer and later it is Mr Antolini). I can’t help thinking that Holden’s fractured relationship with his mother impacts significantly on the decisions that he makes during his ‘madman’ few days in New York City. Oddly, Salinger dedicates the novel ‘To My Mother’. I wonder why … maybe it’s because like Holden says “Mothers are all slightly insane”.

Another obvious novel that I’ve read recently (along with every other human being on the planet) is The Hunger Games. Katniss is (emotionally) an orphan. The death of her father in a mining accident results in her mother’s emotional absence for both Katniss and her younger sister Prim. As soon as we meet Katniss, we learn of this lack in her life. Katniss becomes the mother-figure in the series as she does everything within her power to protect her younger sister and later Rue. It is possibly this quality of Katniss that makes her so endearing. It is only when she loses Rue and later in the cave when she adopts the superior role of carer for Peeta that Katniss lets her guard down and shows her true emotions and nature. Katniss typically is a closed character, sharing her thoughts openly only with we readers and interestingly her distrust of her mother remains right through the series. Right to the end.

Having enjoyed The Hunger Games series so much, I was recommended The Rosie Black Chronicles – a series that also has a female protagonist set in a post-apocalyptic world. It is an Australian series and quite good – not as engaging or well-written as The Hunger Games but worth a read regardless. Rosie is a tough sixteen year old – worldly, determined, intelligent, brave – ultimately tasked with the role of saving the planet. And she is mother-less. It’s an important feature of her character development. There is an Aunt who acts as a surrogate mother-figure, but she is impotent in the role and Rosie knows it. I don’t doubt that Rosie’s tough exterior and insecure interior are a direct consequence of her motherless adolescence.

I think I’ve proven my point, so I’ll just list a few more texts that I’ve read recently that feature an absentee mother … a plot device that significantly impacts the characterisation of the protagonist, and thus the direction of the narrative.

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (Not only is Catherine’s mother almost entirely absent from the novel, the Tilney children are mother-less and this absent mother figures significantly in the end of the narrative)

Dracula by Bram Stoker (Two strong women – Mina and Lucy – are both without mothers. Mina is thought by many to be the mother-figure in the novel yet she certainly can not be seen as one when she elects to drink the blood of Dracula. The absentee mother figures strongly as a theme in the novel – you only need to look at the “bloofer lady” scene for evidence of this.)

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak (It is only when Max is banished to his room by his mother that he desires escape via the imagination. Why does Max get so angry with his mother? In Spike Jonze’s film this aspect of the narrative is explored more explicitly – Max feels his mother is emotionally absent from him as she seeks to establish an intimate relationship with a man who is not his father.)

Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk (a bit of an extreme case of what can result thanks to an absent mum. It’s a full-on book, hilarious as well but I think it provides wonderful insight into the compulsion – and sensitive yet determined nature – of children who lose a mother early in life.)

I find this such a curious phenomenon. I’m sure there are a bunch more texts that similarly present protagonists that lack a mother and which influences their character in a significant way. Maybe the purpose is to explore the importance of mothers and just how valuable they are for young minds … vulnerable to the whims of the world into which they are thrust. I agree with Rousseau in Emile when he argues that human beings are innately good. The support (and daily presence) of a caring mother (and yes, father as well) can make such a great impression on a person. But perhaps mostly it is the perceived lack that makes the most impact. Mothers are human beings, just like non-mothers. We have no super powers and yet we are integral to the development of our children. I’m so fascinated by that. Of course, the argument may run similarly (and I’m sure it does) for the presence of a father. As I say, maybe it’s the perceived lack … the sense of the missing … that has greater influence than the actual presence of a flesh and blood mother. What do you think?

Oh, and just so you know – this isn’t a post designed to lament my own childhood or adolescence – because both were in fact quite good and as I said earlier I have a great relationship with my mum. She’s tops.

Another lesson failed by the filter …

Most schools have them, most teachers and students hate them. Internet filters.

This morning I spent two hours creating what I think is a pretty great mini-project for my Year 8 students. It’s based on the online game ‘Machinarium’ … using it as a stimulus for creative writing. Here is the outline of the project: steam-punk

I set the task as an edmodo assignment for my Year 8 class this morning. And guess what I saw when I logged-in to see how they went with it? A message telling me the game was BLOCKED by the filter. I can’t tell you how frustrating this is as an educator trying to use new media and digital/mulitmedia in her classroom. I’m not even in the classroom today and I’m still working hard to give the kids an engaging and effective project to complete … argghhh!! I know I should check these things before hand, I know there are processes to follow in order to have the site unblocked … but these things just add another layer of work for teachers. No wonder so many teachers just think ‘screw that, I’m sticking with my text book and worksheets‘.

OK, rant over. Of course the students can play the game at home and still complete the task on Monday, but that’s not the point. I know we’ve all got to live in a filtered world, I just had to share my frustration (and sympathies) with you all.

When will grown-ups be obsolete?

Image: ‘grownups‘

Tonight as I drove home from university in the pitch black and cold, I was warmed by the presence and cheerful conversation of one of my most favourite people in the world – my seven year old son, Balin. We had the radio on but it quickly became background noise as Balin began one of his famous ‘shared stream of consciousness monologues’. I love these. Tonight’s treasure was centred on things he wishes he had. I was so delighted with his list that I just had to share it with you.

1. The ability to fly.

2. The ability to touch something and immediately have all the facts relating to it in your head.

3. The ability to time-travel. 

4. The ability to move things with your mind.

These really aren’t original, by any means. But what I did find fascinating was his reasons for wanting these special ‘gifts’. It would mean never having to go to school again. If you could fly, he said, you could visit anywhere you wanted and see how people live in different places and how animals live in different environments. You wouldn’t need to learn how to drive. The second ‘gift’ is easy to relate to a no-school goal … if school is about storing facts in your head, why not just store them in everything and have that easily transmittable into your brain via a simple touch? Time travel would make learning about history straight-up cool and fun. Plus you could find out what inventions were created in the future, come back and make them in the present. The moving things with your mind … I have no idea how that relates to school. He actually got distracted from his list in the end because he was convinced that he made a bottle shake just by looking at it. Hahah. I love my little Bananas.

Balin’s imaginative way of thinking about the world … and his creative way of solving a simple problem (school = boring) is inspiring. How many adults do you know that would sit down and come up with the above list as the four things they most want in life? None, I bet. If we let kids actually tackle real-world problems using their imaginations and their undeniable talent for creative solutions, I reckon we’d have a heaps better world.

I know you’ve probably all seen this video, but I don’t care. I want you to watch it again. Why? Because the man is right. Children are the most creative human beings we have. I reckon we need to spend more time listening to them and less time talking at them. We can learn a lot and maybe the term ‘grown-up’ will no longer be synonymous with ‘boring’.

Two units of work for Module B: Critical Study of Texts

Module B: Critical Study of Texts is a really tough module to teach. The biggest reason for that is because the module itself has evolved since its first introduction to the HSC English Advanced course in 2001. I’m lucky enough (*cough*) to have been an HSC marker for Module B for the last four years. It certainly has been interesting observing how the expectations of the module have altered – quite significantly since my first year of marking and teaching this module.

I’ll confess, right now it is my favourite module to teach. Yes, it’s a pain in the arse and can be super confusing for the kids, but I’ve found it is the module that gives me (and more importantly my students) the most freedom … we read, we discuss, we argue, we question, we speculate and we write. My approach to teaching Module B was heavily influenced by former ETA president Mark Howie and his use of the Visual Arts Conceptual Framework. Sounds a bit weird but I have never seen a great difference between how an artist approaches his/her artwork and how an author/film-maker/essayist/poet etc approaches his/her text. So The Frames are awesome for engaging critically with a text – my students become well-versed in the subjective, cultural, structural and critical frames for approaching a text.

When I first got an opportunity to teach an Advanced English class, I taught the poetry of William Butler Yeats. And since then I have taught the essays of George Orwell twice. I guess the purpose of this post is to share the units of work that I created for those texts … I usually don’t create units of work – these were created with an audience in mind (I do my best work when I expect to be critiqued by others) and I want to share them with you.

I have a bunch of resources to go with each unit, so if you wanna get a copy of any of them just let me know. They’re not helping me just sitting on my Mac … they may as well see some light and maybe help you.

Our Mad World: a GBL+PBL mash-up study of ‘Cosi’ by Louis Nowra

Year 12 Standard classes are notoriously difficult to teach. The students either find English irrelevant or have never experienced success in English – or both.

Each time I am allocated a Standard HSC class I promise myself I will make our work relevant, engaging and fun. I can’t say that I have achieved any of those goals fully with my current Year 12 class. We have certainly had fun … my favourite experience so far with them has been taking them geocaching at a local creek to help them feel a true sense of belonging or not belonging to ‘place’.

This term we study the play ‘Cosi’ by Louis Nowra. This is a play set in a mental institution … in the 1970s! Can it get any more irrelevant for my kids? Of course as an English teacher I can be creative and make it sorta relevant … you know, through all those magical ‘universal themes’ about love, loss, madness, jealousy, war, betrayal and stuff. I could talk about that stuff until I was blue (red, purple, sepia, magenta?) in the face and my students would still say, ‘How many pages do we need to write for this essay and how many quotes?’ Bloody HSC exam.

So I decided to introduce a gaming element to our study of the play, you know, for fun and a bit of competition. I want to get these guys thinking about learning in a new way. It’s probably not really gaming (I am a total n00b at games and will continue to be so even as my interest in them as literary texts increases) but there are elements stolen from games … and all of the structure is stolen (as always) from my great mate Dean Groom. Let’s just say it’s a PBL+GBL mash-up of sorts. I’m looking forward to getting the students using social media to share their learning … hope you can support their journey by following this hashtag: #OMW12

The Catcher in the Rye: can stories help young people develop resilience?

I have been working very hard over the last few days to think of a project that will engage and impress my Year 10 Extension class as much as our much-loved Hunger Games RPG (which was so loved one student wrote 14,000 words in 14 days).

I don’t think this project will result in my students staying awake and posting messages on facebook and twitter until midnight (like #HG2212 did), but I do hope it will make a lasting impression on them as human beings. This article kinda gets to the heart of this project’s relevance.

Below is our project outline. I’m about to send it to them on edmodo. Wish me luck.

A 5 week ‘Wuthering Heights’ project (saving my arse).

If you read my last post you’ll know that I’m teaching Wuthering Heights this term. I also have to teach the poetry of Keats to the same group of kids … and it’s my first time teaching both. I have found that using PBL (particularly the use of check-lists, drafts, plans and feedback) with this class has produced some high quality, original compositions from students who may ordinarily rely on ‘spoon-feeding’ and teacher ideas.

Instead of spending hours ‘up-skilling’ myself before my lesson tomorrow (cos let’s face it, when you’re teaching the very top students in your school you get a bit panicked about looking like the true holder of all knowledge), I’ve decided to create a mini-project for my students. Basically it’s just an outline of what they need to know by the end of our 5 week study of Wuthering Heights … and maybe the expectation that this knowledge is self-generated and presented on a webpage for the world to see. The project outline will hopefully give my students a vision of where we are heading … it becomes their learning goals for the duration of our novel study.

Anyway, if it freaks them out (which I know it will because what they need to know about this text looks fair epic!) I think that’s a good thing … better than them spending five weeks chatting about the novel, reading and viewing stuff about it and then at the end going, ‘What do I need to know for the Trials, Miss?’. But really – the project outline is for me. A glorified worksheet. Now I don’t need to teach anything at all. It’s all up to them.

Here is the project outline:

PBL: Project reflection questions

A big part of the reason why I turned to PBL as my alternative to traditional teaching was my students’ inability to reflect on their learning … that whole passive attitude they have where they expect the teacher to just do the work and shovel the wisdom down their throats. If they weren’t able to digest it, it wasn’t there fault – it was the teacher’s. I don’t like that a helpless attitude in people outside of the classroom, I certainly don’t like it inside the classroom.

Built into PBL is an active engagement and participation with what is occurring in ‘the classroom’ (inverted commas indicate we do a lot of learning that isn’t inside the brick box) … and on top of that students are required to reflect on this engagement and participation. Last term three of my classes participated in a total of five projects. It is now the beginning of a new term, so it’s time to start new projects BUT before we can do that I need to get my students thinking about their experience of the previous project … and I also need the data. If my students’ reflections show me that they thought the project lacked relevance or that they were confused or disinterested, then I know something didn’t work. It’s my job (and their job) to work on ways to make the next project even better.

Tonight a googled ‘end of project reflection survey’ in an attempt to make my life easier – thinking up ten reflection questions at 10pm at night isn’t fun. I was very pleased when I found this little gem: 20 End of Year Reflection Questions. I have modified these 20 questions for two of the projects my Year 10 students participated in last term. I’ll do the same for Years 8 and 9 too. Hope these questions garner some useful insights for me and my students. Maybe you might use them for your end of project reflections too?

EMO PROJECT:

1. What is something we did during this project that you think you will remember for the rest of your life?
2. What was the most challenging part of this project for you?
3. What are three things you did during this project to help your classmates?
4. What is something that was hard for you at the start of the project, but is easy now?
5. In what area do you feel you made your biggest improvements?
6. What in our class has made the biggest impact on your learning during this project? Why?
7. What is something the teacher could have done to make this project better?
8. If you could turn back time and do this project again, what would you do differently?

HUNGER GAMES PROJECT:

1. What is something you accomplished during this project that you are proud of?
2. What was the nicest thing someone in our class did for you during this project?
3. If you could change one thing that happened during this project, what would it be?
4. What are the three most important things you learned during this project?
5. What is something you taught your teacher or classmates during this project?
6. What was the best piece of writing that you did during this project? Why do you think it is your best?
7. What are six adjectives that best describe this project?
8. When you consider the rest of your life, what percentage of what you learned during this project do you think will be useful to you?
9. What advice would you give students who will participate in this project next year?

 

Would the Brontes have played Minecraft?

I’m about to start teaching Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte to my Year 12 Extension English class. It is the first time that I have ever taught this novel. I remember reading it when I was a senior in high school. I’ll confess that I was one of those girls who fell in love with the very bad Mr Heathcliff. I reread it at the end of last year, and I’m rereading it again now and I’ll confess again, I still favour Heathcliff over Edgar. Oh, I got off track … moody Gothic novels will do that.

Last Tuesday was my first double period with EE1 – so I turned to YouTube to teach my lesson for me (Oh. My. God. I am so ‘flippin’ trendy!) and I found this great series on the Brontes – In search of the Brontes. We’ve only got through three of the videos so far, but finding out about the early life of the Brontes really got me thinking about young people and creativity today. Those Bronte kids were sheltered from the outside world by a hyper-anxious but well-meaning father. They were super educated, highly literature and extremely creative. I was particularly intrigued by the private imagined world that they created and shared with each other. It was a make-believe world that consumed them … even into ‘adolescence’. Not only did they write stories and tell stories about their two worlds (Angria and Gondol) but they also produced plays, drawings, tiny, tiny books made from wall-paper and sugar bags and enacted the drama in their narratives using dolls and objects found outside of their home on the moors.

These imagined worlds engaged the Brontes even when they were not living at home. It got me thinking about my own children. Characteristic of me, I began to fret that I had not given my boys sufficient time or resources or encouragement to create their own imagined worlds. Why were my highly literate children (both adept at turning a tale in writing – I know, I’ve seen them come home from school … long pages of tiny intensely descriptive writing) not teaming up to create their own worlds in which to play and challenge and experiment? The Brontes spent all of their free time in the minds of their imagined personas … much to the concern of their father. He knew that young girls must prepare for a life as a wife, mother or governess and young boys for a life in the military, academia or the Church. So what do my boys spend their free time doing? Playing Minecraft.

And that’s when I got it. They have created an imagined world where they can play and challenge and experiment and author their own epic narratives.

If you don’t know what Minecraft is, you’d be wise to search it up on YouTube. Here you will find hours and hours of videos in which young children (I have had the experience of mining with a four year old American girl who could barely write yet she had mastered some of the basic Minecraft commands) share their secret imagined worlds, all created using a pick, diamond sword and some blocks. It’s not just the settings they are creating – they are authoring grand narratives as they build. And it’s not just kids doing this, although admittedly childhood is often the genesis of most gamer-lives … check out this Minecraft epic authored entirely within the imagined world Israphel. Don’t forget to see how many views the series has received!

Currently my boys are completely consumed by the evolving narrative of Hungermines on the Massively Minecraft server – a story based on the popular young adult fiction series The Hunger Games by Susan Collins. As a team of (up to) 300, these young miners (between the ages of 6-16) have not only built Panem – including all districts, the Hunger Games arena and the Capitol – they have created the characters and storyline for their own narrative. We adults look on and say ‘they are playing that game again’ but really they are creating an imagined world where only select adults are invited to be participants. It is what most would call a ‘video game’ … but yet it is so much more. The devotion my boys have for the game terrifies me – I try my best to encourage them to create videos of their builds, to write blog posts, to complete the guild quests but they are not interested. They look on my with pitying eyes … as though (as an adult) I am incapable of understanding them and their world. This is their world. This is their story. And it is important.

I am convinced that if the Brontes were alive today they would be just as creative as they were in the early 1800s – their creative output just as startling and considerable – but it would simply take a different form. Narratives are not about the pen and the paper. They are about the imagination, the possibilities, the experimentation, the power, the emotion … Sand-pit games like Minecraft give power to the imaginations of young people who may be limited in the traditional literacies and those who are not. Emily, Charlotte, Anne and Branwell would certainly have found a comfortable home in video games … and I imagine MMOGs would be their favourite.