The explicit purpose of the purple tub of icy hell was to raise money. Students would gladly spend a dollar for three chances to dunk a teacher into frigid water. It’s hard to argue this as a two other teachers and I spent a significant amount of time wet and shivering. It also led to quite a bit of student joy. This monetary gain and morale boost were certainly worth mild hypothermia on a chilly sub-50 degree night.

There is also an interesting reversal of power involved in the dunk tank. In all cases I have seen or heard of these monstrosities in use, the victimized individual is someone in a position of power: a teacher (as in this case), a coach (really interesting when it’s a baseball coach at a D1 school and a closer is throwing), a boss, a camp counselor (the other time I played the dunkee), etc. Suddenly, these people are at the mercy of people usually under their control. This is especially evident when a shivering teacher reminds a student to make good decisions, and the student replies, “I am,” with an evil smirk.

When I was very young, my parents repeatedly watched Zeffirelli’s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. This scene (the first twenty seconds of it anyway) had an immense impact on my young mind. My father has confirmed that I would throw a washcloth over my face while in the bath tub and “blah blah blahblah” to my little heart’s content. And so it was that my parents studying Shakespeare on film doomed me to the life of an English teacher.

Every day teachers see the fruits of parental labor or lack thereof. Read to your kids. Watch movies made fifty years ago that are based on 16th century plays and are both, somehow, still relevant. It will have an effect.

We started the week getting to know one another, playing initiative games, and readying our areas and cabins. There have been numerous meetings about how to deal with campers in numerous situations, canoe properly, and even shoot bows.

The major difference: time. Every day is non-stop from 8 am to sometime around 9-10 pm. Today, for instance, after arriving back at camp after an overnight, rainy canoe trip at 7:45, I went to pick up a van’s worth of animals. (Snakes, turtles, mice, rats, lizards–everything to have a mini petting zoo inside my building.) After setting them up, and scavenging a lunch after missing a meal, three and a half hours of high ropes training. (Lives are in my hands!) Next up was a meeting about being a mandated reporter, and some more time to work in our areas. This was interrupted by a mock lost camper search, which for me entails a mile run through trails. Shortly after was dinner, and sign painting. Somehow that brought us to 11 pm. Staff training week is teacher inservice on steroids.

Though, as I write this, I’m sitting in a cabin overlooking Walloon Lake, and loving every bit of life.

TAoW pulls in lessons from Sun Tzu’s treatise of the same name, and uses them to illustrate a future that is nothing short of gloomy. In the novel, the Chinese government has extended its power immensely, and has a tight grip on American way of life and economics. Coupled with a blurring of what human rights are deemed essential, the first fifty pages present a chilly, if not downright gory view of life in the new United States.

Rural America has been decimated. Technology, while incredibly advanced, (robotic prosthetics, bone and blood augmentation, and some really sweet mind altering serums) has the potential for good, but as seen in many dystopias, has grim downsides while being used by ruthless (Chinese) agencies.

The art matches the tone of the story. Illustrated in two colors, black and red, no scene feels warm or friendly. The red pops from the page, promoting the significance of statues, painted finger nails, and of course, blood.

The first fifty pages of this novel are a wonderful tease. Just enough to get a sense of the main character’s ideals and motives, but leaving the possibility of a rich, thought provoking work wide open. I look forward to the next ten chapters, and if the first three were a good indication, Roman and DeWeese’s next works.

I encourage you to check out The Art of War  website. You can read the preview, watch videos about the process, and even watch the artists making prints with their own blood. Enjoy.

It has been five years since a stint here as a counselor, and this year I am taking over as Nature Director. Basically, I’ll be lesson planning and leading games and hikes that push campers to learn about and appreciate the outdoors. It’s a leap from teaching English and social studies in the classroom, but I am elated to be spending the summer with a great staff and hundreds of kiddos.

Updates, as few and far between as they are, will happen through the summer. Up next is another divergence: A review of the preview of The Art of War by Kelly Roman and Michael DeWeese.

I met the group way too early in the morning at O’Hare, (they had taken a bus down, I had driven myself) and we flew out.

The trip was pretty darn awesome. At least five of the students had never flown before and several had barely left the state; heading to New York via Chicago was a pretty big deal. We saw a bunch of the usual tourist stuff: Times Square, Ground Zero, Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, The Lion King, and The Museum of Natural History. I got  my nerd fix when we saw Alexander Hamilton and Robert Fulton’s graves. Of course, I ate street food like I would never see it again.

One of the coolest things was taking six boys into China Town. We went into a seedy little restaurant that made the boys a little nervous. I was glad I made them eat there, though. They all left satisfied, and I was proud of a bunch of country boys stepping out of their comfort zone.

Jokingly, on the flight back to Chicago,  I turned to my mother and said, “I hope my car starts.” Stupid.

After pushing my car out for the tow truck, and a tow to a small auto shop in the suburbs, I found out my fuel pump was shot. I waited for a friend to come pick me up (thank God for knowing people all around the country) and take me to the Millennium Station. I took the South Shore to South Bend, was picked up by my roommate and arrived home in Fort Wayne at midnight. After three hours of sleep the night before, 18 hours of travel, (including the delay in Chicago) I was ready for bed.

After this is over  (Read: either after I get my car back or after I’ve gotten rid of it–not sure which) it’ll be a funny story.

Well, they keep surprising me. I shouldn’t be surprised that my students have multiple talents. I guess I just didn’t think any teenager who was committed to 30+ hours a week of dance training would have the time or energy to be invested in anything else. I was/am/will probably continue to be wrong.

These kids can write. I ask them to respond to literature and I get insight. I ask them to argue a position and out comes the rhetoric. I ask them to write fiction and they stun with plot and rich characters. I ask them to jump and they look at me like I’m an idiot.  My little, black, English teacher heart is just throbbing with pride.

We have had several articles about the school and our students in local newspapers, as well as some television time in the area, but are constantly fighting to get our name out to the community.

With only 45 students, we are a relatively small endeavor, and not well-known in the area. That said, we have produced some impressive talent in the ballet circle as well as students with sound academic backgrounds. Serving so few students in a relatively large city makes it difficult to be recognized.

In an effort to help this along, New American Youth Ballet and Conservatory is now officially present on Facebook as well as Twitter. It will be interesting to see the response and how much we can make this idea grow.

I also believe it should be left in Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

In case you have been living under an illiterate rock for the past couple days, a new publication of Twain’s classic is going to be reprinted without “nigger.”

Removing the word is marring a facet of the novel. It’s a sensitive issue, and Huck’s use presents a teachable moment. We get to examine the prejudices ingrained within a society through this speech.

What lesson does replacing “nigger” with “slave” teach? They are far from synonymous. Are we so worried about political correctness that we can’t even see words that are the product of immense hatred?

But really, the holidays are here. The worst part about this, parents taking their kids early for winter break. I understand the importance of spending time with family, especially during major holidays. I mean, when else can you make the memories that will haunt you for the rest of your life?

From a teacher’s perspective, it’s a planning nightmare. Finding time for students to take semester finals and write essays puts a whole new spin on difficult. The main issue I am having is figuring out how to give a reasonable assessment. It needs to show what the student has learned through the semester, be separate from the other exams, and be able to be taken outside of the normal class period. One student missing all of the final week of the semester (in two classes) and another who will be gone Wednesday-Thursday. Poop.

Anybody have any tips or tricks to help out or just keep me sane?