Book Banning 101

(Persepolis--the sad victim of the latest in Book Banning)

Banning Books. Does is still happen? You bet. Does it happen to me??? Um, yeah.

Another name for this post could be "Mormon Mother's in Utah hate my Liberal Guts" or "Please teach your children how to NOT ask questions and to be Sheep" or "I want my child to be Uniformed about the World, thank you."

Ok, I am being a bit cheeky, and I wasn't even going to do a post on this, but it continues to be in my life and it honestly is affecting me to the point where I have been considering a new profession. So, if I've been distant lately from you, my blogger friends, it's because I've been weighed down with some questions and sadness about the closemindedness of my fellow people.

My experience from book banning is as funny as a mother coming into my 8th grade classroom and getting angry that her son had borrowed a copy of  Captain Underpants from a friend of his. I really had to try and not laugh in her face, but in the end, she got the book removed from the library ( It's a tale of a cute, unlikely hero...but the mother never read the book, she just didn't like the word "underpants" ---{and yes, her kid used MUCH worse language than this in the hallways})....this is the type of personality, to me, who uses "special" words for body parts so kids grow up uncomfortable with their bodies.

The next year I had a few LDS mothers up in arms about teaching the kids The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I assume that they were upset because they believed the book taught about witches or witchcraft? I wasn't sure. And they weren't sure either, because they NEVER read it. For those of you who have read this AMAZING novel, it's the story of a young girl coming to Puritan America and because she is different, the town wants to condemn her as a witch. It is a beautiful book of religious tolerance and appreciating each other's differences. I LOVE this book. And I kept teaching it.

This year, I have a mother who is not very fond of me. This started when she saw that I put The Power of Myth on the reading list (as an OPTION!!!). Then, I introduced the Hero's Journey in the class, as a reference for character motivation and plot interpretation. She came in very upset. Of course, she was SO upset that she couldn't even vocalize it. She typed a two page rant about me, my course, the books I chose, and she asked me to read it, while she sat there and watched me. It was seriously awkward. I sat for five minutes and read nasty things about me and my teaching methods while she stood there shaking her head. Then I asked her, when I had finished, "Have you read this book?" 

And the universal answer...No. 

"What is your problem with this book?" 

"It teaches that Jesus Christ is a myth." 

I'm not even going to justify that with a response on my blog. She also wanted to know my religion ( I have found that being 31, single, and a Democrat in Mormon society has often dubbed me as an atheist lesbian...I am NOT being dramatic here!)...which I wouldn't tell her. Then she went on to question many things I did. 

I said to her, "If you are looking for a teacher who is going to sit at the front of the class, hand out work sheets and busy work and never cause a stir, then you are in the wrong place. I am not that teacher. I am a teacher who will get these kids to think, to question, to wonder, to value, to decide, to contribute. They start college next year ( I teach at an early college high school)...don't you think we should prepare them?" 

Most LDS moms I meet don't expect this from me. They expect me to be really sweet and fake and cheesy. They expect me to say "Oh, yes, whatever you say." They don't expect me to return rant for rant. But I do. And it usually comes back to haunt me. She gave me the evil eye and then left. She has now been monitoring every thing her son is asked to do and then reporting to the principal when she thinks it is not right. 

The myth puts you there all the time, gives you a line to connect with that mystery which you are.

Shakespeare said that art is a mirror held up to nature. And that’s what it is. The nature is your nature, and all of these wonderful poetic images of mythology are referring to something in you. When your mind is simply trapped by the image out there so that you never make the reference to yourself, you have misread the image.

The inner world is the world of your requirements and your energies and your structure and your possibilities that meets the outer world. And the outer world is the field of your incarnation. That’s where you are. You’ve got to keep both going. As Novalis said, "The seat of the soul is there where the inner and outer worlds meet."      Joseph Campbell

So, yes, when I am teaching Julius Caesar this week, I make the kids decide their political party. That means they have to research BOTH the Democrat and the Republican parties. They have to decide where they stand on the issues. That means the have to research the PROs and CONs of stem cell research, gay marriage, abortion, the war in Iraq, and etc. The parents have NO problem with their kids researching the Republican party, but wow, I can't even tell you how many have called in upset that their kids have to research the Democrats? Is anyone else trying to keep your jaw from dropping open??? Welcome to my world.

Back to the mother. Today I was informed of her latest rage against me. It is the fact that I want to teach Persepolis, a novel of a young girl coming of age in war torn Iran. Hmmmm, 10th grade is World Literature. We read stories to understand people in general and ourselves in particular. 

Can you think of any culture in the world that American's need to learn about and identify with than that of the Middle East? 

Do we really want to continue to propagate hate and fear and lies and all the things that follow? I asked again, "Have you read this book?"  I am waiting for her response. My only idea of why she doesn't want me to teach this is either A) She thinks it's about Terrorists or B) the title "Graphic Novel" makes her think it will have naked pictures? I really can't understand it.

But, teaching is exhausting me...and it's not even the students, it's the parents.

Some of America's most commonly banned books:

1. To Kill a Mockingbird

2. Huckleberry Finn

3. I know why the Caged Bird Sings

4. The Bluest Eye

5. A Wrinkle in Time

6. The Outsiders

Something More Important

So, I had my political blog all ready to go. I had all the reasons I am voting for Obama down and all the reasons why "that one" just doesn't cut it for me. I had articulate thoughts on how much pettiness I have been witness to, among adults. How many slurs and slanders and jibes and hating remarks and "I'm Right, You're Wrong" finger pointings. This blog was so good, it would have called all the evil slanderers to remorseful repentance!! Yes, indeed, in one blog post alone, I called us all to accept each other and our differences in politics and put everything else aside

....and then I thought...nope, not going to do it.

Because I have something more important to write about.

The Children of Shanti Bhavan.

I was asked to be part of an art auction by my friend Emily to help the George Foundation of India. Here is her message.

Christmas is coming, and instead of giving your money to Target or Walmart, 100% of your contribution will go directly to helping sweet Indian children receive a quality education! This whole art benefit will be on an official George Foundation website in the next month or so...but I am giving you a sneak peak of the amazing art that will be a part of this benefit, just in case you're an early shopper...

PHOTOGRAPHY

"Autumn Leaf" by John Turner
Photo size is 12x16. Frame included. size is 16"x20", natural wood.
$95, shipping included

"Madonna and Child" by D'Arcy Benincosa
8" x 10" in a white frame or 11" x 14" with no frame
$75, shipping included
Other Photos by D'Arcy

"Shape and Shadow" by Leilani Bascom. (black and white tile)

film photograph printed on archival photo paper 12x18
$80, shipping included
Other Photos by Leilani

"Study in Aesthetics #2" by Leilani Bascom ( yellow and orange plant)

film photograph printed on archival photo paper 12x18
$80, shipping included

"Translucence" (green and white plant)

film photograph printed on archival photo paper 12x18
$80, shipping included










VISUAL ART

"Hurricane Stoves" by Keva Gneiting
acrylic on canvas
12"x12"
$100, shipping included










"Tree Series-Cherry Tree" by Emily Potter
watercolor on canvas paper
8x11"
$70
red mat included, shipping included

"Tree Series-Autumn Leaf" by Emily Potter
watercolor on canvas paper
8x11"
$65
blue mat included, shipping included

"Tree Series- Green Forest" by Emily Potter
watercolor on canvas paper
11x14"
$75
black mat included, shipping included


Save $10 on "Tree Series": $200 for all three













Intention Jewelry www.intentionjewelry.com
by Angela Johnson
Item #1: retail value for all earring pairs: $125. Earrings shown are examples only - actual set will be custom creations.
Item #2: $59 Turquoise Flower: Turquoise beads come together to cradle a beautiful Hill Tribe silver flower pendant.
Item #3: $25 Intention Jewelry gift certificate - this can be used at any Intention Jewelry open house, custom order or online.

The children at Shanti Bhavan

About the George Foundation
I love raising money for other people!

This is a photo of my dear friend Emily. She worked at the school in India for several months and through her eyes, I came to know and love these children.

As an added Christmas bonus...if any of you want commissioned paintings throughout the month of November, I will give all proceeds for those paintings to the George Foundation. 

I will also give 50% of each family photo shoot I do, during the month of November, to the George Foundation. I've only got two scheduled, so come join in and let's start giving!!

This is the place that my family has decided to donate their money to for Christmas. I couldn't be happier with our decision. You can buy one of these amazing pieces of art at the art auction on Emily's blog.

What does YOUR price tag say?

"Madame Pericand felt that each social class should wear some sign indicative of their station to avoid any misconceptions, just as shops displayed price tags."

                         ~Suite Francaise by Irène Némirovsky

Doctor: So, you dropped out of your PhD program didn't you?

Me: Yep.

Doctor: Well, now what are you going to do, I mean, why would you drop out of it, I mean, you should be doing so much, I can't remember, what do you do right now?

Me: I'm a teacher and an artist.

Doctor: (scowl and smirk together cross his face) An artist? A teacher? Are you just trying to be poor. I mean, what are you going to DO? You can't just do that the rest of your life.

Me: Actually, I am really hap.....

Doctor: What about law school? What about the PhD program at U of U? Have you applied there? Have you thought of that. You're such a smart girl, you should be doing more than what you are doing. Your life isn't over you know.

Me: um, yeah, I know. (insecurity strikes...and for some reason, i get dragged into this conversation that I don't know why is taking place--with my Doctor, who comes across really poorly in this interaction, but who is usually such a great guy)...but yeah, law school, that would be cool.

Doctor: Exactly, now you're thinking....blah...blah...blah...on and on...and...on....

....and my mind wanders to what I am doing with my life and I start to feel a bit smaller (see Sugar's post). Am I wasting my life in small town USA? Obviously my doctor thinks I am a smart girl. Obviously he thinks I am capable of a lot more than what he currently sees before him. And obviously he sees me passing time as just a teacher and just a struggling artist.... according to him, and probably most people in the world, I should try to remedy that quickly.

"Alas, we-- Who wished to lay the foundations of kindness-- Could not ourselves be kind."

                                                     ~ Bertolt Brecht

When I graduated from NYU, I could have followed my head and been on the fast track to fame and fortune. I worked for a very "important" woman. Again and again she let it be known that she was the one who would give me my big break. She lived on Fifth Avenue, her son was a multi-million dollar film producer, she was a published writer, and she, like Madame Pericand in the novel, believed that people had price tags. And, for awhile, I allowed her to treat me like my price tag was much, much less than hers....and in return, I would get what everyone wants. All her assistants had.

Sometimes I find myself thinking back to my stint in the big city....wondering what I gave up. There was a time in my life when I was on a first name basis with the people at Dior. There was a time in my life when I was able to go shopping at Versace and people rushed to do my bidding (well, her bidding really). There was a time in my life where men in white gloves opened all my doors and pushed all the elevators buttons for me, a time when I got into black limos, a time when I got the first bags released from Gucci, and a time when I got high off of this type of living.

People envied me. For the people who heard my tales, my price tag was high, I was living THE life. I had it made. I was going to be famous. I was going to be rich. I was going to be everything this world tells you that you should strive to be.


And then....I decided to move back to Utah. No one understood. Many still don't understand.





Now, instead of Dior, I help my dad weed his garden. Instead of making reservations at the newest five start restaurant, I made dinner for my brother last week. Instead of looking out onto Central Park West from the penthouse apartment, I had a late night girl chat with my sister. And, instead of getting that screenplay into the right hands, I helped my baby sister write her resume yesterday.  And now, instead of a million nameless faces pushing past me on the street...each in search of that dream, my nieces and nephews know my name....

They didn't before.

Baby Mamma!

Today I really wanted a couple of kids of my own.

Even after the melt downs.

That's Progress.

See the whole "Celebrating Grammy's Birthday by Getting Lots of New Photos for Her at the Park Photo Shoot" here.

Jo Inspired Me....

Jo inspired me to go out today and take some pictures of Fall. Thanks Jo!

Deconstructing The Scarlet Letter

Ok, I posted this, then I got all insecure and I deleted it (after a few of you were kind enough to comment) and then I remembered that I like to kick insecurities in the butt...so here I am reposting this.

Rowena, the Warrior Girl, tagged me the other day. I was supposed to give six random facts about myself, but instead, I thought I would share with you all a story. I've been meaning to write more lately, and I wrote this a couple of months ago and haven't shared it with many people, so I thought I would share it here. It gives a pretty good idea of me. I love recreating moments from my memory that were as good in real life as they appear on paper.

So here you go....the number one reason why The Scarlet Letter remains one of my favorite books. And yes, the principal really told me not to teach it.

Whatever you do, DON’T teach The Scarlet Letter

“Ok, y’all settle down.” I stood at the front of the room holding a box of The Scarlet Letter. Now listen, because I’m going to tell you something. No one in this school believes that you can read this book.” I started handing the books out, one by one, looking each student in the eye. “They don’t think you’ll ‘get it.’” I said as I passed one to Shenedria, then Sharonda, then Sh’miae, and finally to Caroldoria, my saving C in a row of S’s. “In fact, they told me not to teach it.” I paused and looked into Jabbar’s face, my most rebellious student, I knew he would love this. “So, guess what our new unit is going to be? “ Jabbar’s face turned into a slight smile as he felt the book in his hands. I kept walking and passing out the book. “Ok, we’re going to start today. It won’t be easy.” I said this as I looked into Jordy’s eyes. He knew something about life not being easy. He was 19, still trying to pass high school. His parents had abandoned him long ago, leaving him and his younger brother with his aged grandmother. He worked nights, sometimes all night. He never turned in his homework, but he always showed up for class. “It’s going to take effort.” A book to Bintu. “It’s going to take dedication.” A book to Tyrell. “It’s going to take us working together.” The last book to Amanda, the only white girl besides me. I went and moved back to the front of the room with my book in hand. “However, I really think this is a valuable book. On the surface it is about a love affair between a married woman and a priest.” Shouts, yells, and other suggestive whistles filled the air. “But underneath you will find a story about not being accepted by society, about making decisions, and most of all, about the judgments we place on others. So keep your hands and feet to yourself and enjoy the ride.”

The first chapter took us two days to go through, the new vocabulary came daily as I would read a paragraph. We would stop, and I would put it into understandable terms. The significance of the detail of the prison door, the lone rose bush that grew outside, the significance of starting the novel after the affair to show consequences, and the symbol of Pearl herself. They loved it, they struggled with it, they related to it, they lived it.

The time came for the first writing assignment. The kids had to write their own ideas of what was driving Arthur Dimmesdale. What were his intentions and motives? I came to Dicarrio Jenkins’ paper, the paper of the kid who, on the first day of class, told me I needed to pronounce his name with “a little more attitude.” This was his paper, “Arthur Dimmesdale was the baby daddy who jus wanted a booty call.” I remember that paper because I learned for the first time the definitions of “baby daddy” and “booty call.” I had to smile because I couldn’t mark it wrong.

I had four pregnant 16 year olds in that class. None of them married, none of them ready to be mothers. In fact, two babies had been found in the trashcans earlier in the year. The girls had gone into the bathrooms, given birth, then threw the babies away because they didn't know what to do. We talked about Hester raising Pearl alone. We talked about not having a father there to help, most of these kids didn’t have fathers either. During one poignant discussion, a young girl, Sade, came up to me and said, “Oh, Miss Bee, I be fittin’ to have this baby, can I use the hall pass, ma’am?” Just then her water broke. There was an amniotic fluid stain on the carptet all year long. That remains today, the most valid reason for using the hall pass I have ever had. I called the office, they called the ambulance. Did my kids understand having babies when you shouldn’t?

They became fascinated with the scarlet letter Hester was forced to wear. A large red A marking her sins to the world, telling the community to avoid her. These kids have grown up thinking that the color of their skin is a Scarlet Letter. Did they understand what it would be like to be in Hester’s shoes?

A black on white fight broke out across the school at a part a few days later. Many of my kids saw it, and some of them were in it. It’s the old West Side Story kind of fight. We discussed it, like we did everything. I realized that I was, to many of them, the moral parental influence that they so desperately needed. Did they learn from the hate that consumed Roger Chillingworth?

Day after day, week after week, we read, and talked, read and talked. I lost my voice, I bought it on tape, and still we read.

The day we finished. I will never forget. It was a graduation scene from a cheesy WB drama like Felicity, only it was in inner city Florida, the kids didn’t have name brand clothes and BMW’s. In fact the ceiling had fallen in the day before, the heater ran non-stop and there was a never-ending battle against cockroaches. I read the last sentence. Arthur and Hester were now buried quietly besides each other. I closed my book. There was a moment of silence. I looked up at them and said, “You did it.” Then the explosion I was waiting for. They stood, they cheered, they hugged, they threw their novels up in the air like graduation caps.


When everyone said they couldn’t do it, they did it.

Abrazos Gratis

The photos from Argentina are finally developed and up. Check out the photo blog for a full account!