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Showing posts from July, 2021

Unforgettable

 The Reader's Digest magazine used to have a feature called "My Most Unforgettable Character." Maybe it still does, but I haven't picked one up in years.  I don't think waiting rooms have them anymore.  I never considered writing a piece by that title because I always thought it was something best done in the later years of life.  Now that I've arrived at that distinction, here goes. His name was Bob DeWitt.  We first met at his place in Mariposa, California.  He had a ranch in those Yosemite foothills where he'd built a little barn theater he called the "Feedback Theater." Bob's connection to the outside world was through the Pacifica radio station KFCF in Fresno, Ca.  He'd heard some excerpts of a show that my friend Lenny Anderson and I were doing called "An Evening with Woody Guthrie" and invited us to do the program at his venue.  Apparently, local ranchers, folkies, and interested people from far and near often attended th...

It's Here Now

 I just finished The Four Winds , a novel by Kristen Hannah.  My sister recommended the book to me because it's a dust bowl story, and she knows I've studied that period of history for many years and taught both history and English classes using materials, books, artifacts, and films of the period.  This novel is important because it is from a woman's perspective.  That's a criticism that Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath has long withstood.  Were I still in the classroom today, there's no doubt I would pair these two novels for a richer and more accurate picture of the people and issues that have been so poignantly been portrayed in this culture. Like the existing literature on the dust bowl, The Four Winds includes the bloody labor struggles of the period.  So many of the things we take for granted, like weekends, minimum wage, and paid vacations, came from those labor wars.  The author doesn't shy from the collusion between the big growers and the politic...

Writing Your Name

 I remember the day.  My colleague who taught right next door to me came over to see me a few minutes before the first afternoon class that day.  She'd been assisting some of the counselors with programing for next year so I wasn't too surprised with her request.   "Is it possible," she asked, "for me to pull out your students one at a time to check in with them about their programs for senior year?"  I had no problem with that.  It was a 90-minute block class and my American Lit students were finishing up an assignment, after which we'd share responses and discuss the play we were currently reading.  My only concern was that everyone is back in the room by the last 15-20 minutes of the period.  She assured me they would. So, that's what happened.  Students were called one at a time and they quietly exited and reentered the classroom until all 30 or so were finished.  Marilyn, my neighbor, popped her hear inside the door, thanked me...