Lessons from 1912

I found a link the other day to an exam given to 8^th grade students in 1912. So, because the girls and I were sitting around bored, I started quizzing them.

Good heavens. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I laughed – a lot.

We laughed more and more as the night went on. The funniest moment for me was when I asked them who invented the cotton gin. "Martin Luther!" my eldest called. "Kabalevsky!" the youngest screamed. I decided to just content myself with the fact that a good number of kids their age don't know who Martin Luther is to even offer him as a joke answer, and even less have probably even HEARD of Kabalevsky.

But to be fair, I wouldn't have passed the test either. Not even the grammar section, and we all know what a grammar diva I am. "What properties have verbs?" Yeah, right. And I took some comfort in the fact that these 1912 kids had one hundred years less of history to learn than we did. So, I don't mourn my inability to "sketch briefly Peter Stuyvesant."

It also has occurred to me, when I've seen such items in the past, that we can't necessarily compare those kids to ours. While I would argue that we need to do a better job of educating our children these days, still, comparing public school results today to public school results in 1912 is like comparing apples and oranges.

In 1912, they did not have this lofty goal of "No Child Left Behind." America has decided that every single student in the country needs to be equally well-educated. That was not the goal in 1912. A much smaller percentage of students were attending school back then. Many did not have access to schools . . . many had to work to support their families and couldn't take the time for school . . . and many, frankly, just couldn't cut it in school, and they quit. And they were allowed to quit. It's much easier to hold your students to a higher standard when you don't have to worry about getting EVERY student to that standard.

That's the thing about high standards: they sometimes give the illusion of grand success, but they often reflect a reality of selective success.

My daughter had a different reaction to the test, however. In the car the next day (after finishing her history assignment for the morning over the second World War), she said, "You know, it's weird to think that those kids in 1912 knew nothing at all about either of the World Wars."

They didn't. They had no idea that these stunning, cataclysmic, world-changing events were just around the corner in their lives. Life probably seemed to them pretty calm, pretty smooth, pretty much like this is how it has always been and always will be.

Makes you wonder, doesn't it? In thirty years, what stunning, cataclysmic, world-changing events could disrupt the calm, smooth lives of MY teenagers?

I almost shudder to think.

English Teacher Musings

- I posted a meme on FB a while back that has a bunch of words misspelled -- errors like "could of" instead of "could've," that kind of thing. One of my friends LOL'd it and commented that for me to read that must be like someone with perfect pitch listening to a tone-deaf person sing. Oh, my goodness . . . nailed it.

- Speaking of memes, my husband and I were just commenting on that word yesterday: meme. What a weird word it is. Wondering where in the world it came from. Amazed that it has suddenly become such a commonly used term when it seemed to come out of nowhere a couple years ago.

- And not only is a texting term like "LOL" common in everyday usage anymore, but I just used it as a verb. Language evolution is fascinating.

- And speaking of language evolution, I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that the word "whom" is just going to fade away in the next hundred years or so. Someday, people will read literature and documents from our time and react to the word "whom" the way we react to the word "thou." What does that mean? Why did people talk so weird back then? Old English -- pah.

- I rarely get to choose the literature I teach in my English classes, and I've decided I don't really want that responsibility. Do you know how much literature there is out there? Good, meaningful, influential, classic literature? A whole heck of a lot. Even though I'm given the curriculum to teach at my school, I get to choose what my homeschooled daughter reads for English, and sometimes it's overwhelming. I want her to read everything.

- "Theme" is one of the story elements that I teach in my literature classes, and the definition we give for it is "the statement about life that an author wants to convey in his/her story." Only that's not entirely accurate . . . because sometimes the theme isn't necessarily a statement. It's just a topic. The story addresses the theme of "conformity," but the author may not be making a clear statement about that topic as much as just wanting us to think more about it. And sometimes an author writes something with no particular "theme" in mind at all -- just writing a good story. Nevertheless, if it is a good story, we readers find a theme. Because this is one of the aspects of our being made in the image of God -- this ability and need to search for meaning.

- I emphasized (with italics) the modifier good with regards to a story. Not all stories are good. And by that, I don't mean that not all stories are entertaining or enjoyable. Those factors are a matter of personal preference, really. But I think we can come up with criteria for what makes a story good, or at least better than another. I don't know what that definition is . . . but I heard one a while back that I thought was a good start to the conversation anyway: good stories, even if they are fictional stories, are TRUE. They express truth. They show us truth. Even if that truth is the ugliness of reality.

- Good stories must have some universal appeal about them, too. Something that rings true in all people, whatever culture they come from.

- An old friend once talked about a play (and therefore, a story) having value if there is a redemptive quality to it. I like that, too.

- When I taught public school twenty-some years ago, every year, I had some smart aleck kid who would declare that literature can mean anything you want it to mean. This declaration usually came sometime in January or February, which was handy because it would be cold enough for me to have my winter coat in the classroom. I would ask my students what color my coat was. Some would say green, some blue, some greenish-blue, some blueish-green, some teal, some aqua . . . we even sometimes discussed how next to a blue wall it would look more green and next to a green wall it would look more blue. I explained to them that any of those answers could be correct, depending on your perspective, your background, your prior knowledge and vocabulary . . .

But if anyone said my coat was hot pink, that was WRONG. Just because there may be more than one acceptable answer to a question doesn't mean any answer is acceptable.

And yes, that shut the smart alecks up, believe it or not. I should've kept that coat just for those purposes. Too many smart alecks in our world need shutting up.

On Elections, Prayer, and William Wilberforce

My Iowa friends have been posting pictures of themselves meeting presidential candidates. 'Tis the season.

It was quite an experience living in the Hawkeye state for the 2012 caucuses. Candidates were everywhere. We simply stopped answering the phone because we got pre-recorded calls from one campaign or another all day long. By the last week, I was erasing 10-12 messages from our voicemail every night -- including the occasional one that sounded suspiciously like it might have been the actual candidate on the phone and made me kind of wish I'd picked up the receiver and asked the man a few questions.

Despite such annoyances, I liked being in Iowa for a presidential election. Frankly, it was the only time I've ever felt like my vote mattered much, like it might actually make a difference in things. But I think I'm grateful not to be there this year because I have no bloody clue who I would vote for.

I hate elections. Admittedly, I would probably hate any alternative even more; they are a necessary evil in a free society, which is where I want to live. But the process of choosing people to represent us in the government has become such an unsavory one. I despair of our being able to elect an intelligent, capable, and moral person to national office unless it just happens by accident.

For Christmas, I got Eric Metaxas' book Amazing Grace about the life of William Wilberforce, the man behind the abolition of the slave trade in Britain. Great book. Great, great book. Highly recommended.

Interesting thing about Wilberforce: he didn't become a believer until after he was pretty well established in the House of Commons. In fact, the man who eventually became the nation's moral compass was something of a moral mess when he was elected to Parliament. And it sounds like he couldn't have been elected if he had been otherwise. Parliament was so corrupt at the time, Wilberforce pretty much had to buy his way into office.

Once he met Jesus and his life turned around, he was convinced he would need to resign, that remaining in his elected position would have to be inconsistent with his new convictions. It was John Newton (former slave ship captain and author of the lyrics to the famous hymn "Amazing Grace") who convinced him that he needed to stay where he was -- that perhaps God had brought him to this place "for such a time as this." And the rest is world-changing history.

Reading about Wilberforce convicted me in so many ways. But it also changed my approach to and my attitude about elections and government.

As I said, I despair of our electing a righteous person to the office of president -- rightly or wrongly, that's where I'm at. I fear the the election process has become such that it requires things of our potential leaders that make them decidedly less than righteous, moral, or ethical.

But Wilberforce's story reminds me that God isn't hampered by that fact. God is in the life-changing business, and our elected officials are not beyond His reach. If God can change an 18th century British Parliamentarian and use him in such a mighty way, He can certainly do that with a 21st century American president.

So while I will still vote my conscience this year, hoping for a candidate that has the moral direction I want in a leader, I will not be discouraged at my lack of choices or my apparent impotence in the matter. I am not impotent. I am a pray-er. And God still uses pray-ers to move the world, perhaps even by moving the moral compasses of the ungodly people in power.

Happy New Year??

And so, it's a new year.

Actually, I'm reminded that the idea that a brand new year starts on the date we designate as January 1^st is very manufactured. Other cultures and peoples have their new years starting on different dates. I suspect there may be cultures that make no recognition of the beginning of a new yearly cycle at all.

Nevertheless, it's a new year, the time when people decide to fix what's wrong with themselves.

I got way too much wrong with myself to fix in a year. Pshaw. Fuhget dat.

Our Sunday School teacher Aaron (I very much like our Sunday School teacher Aaron, by the way) encouraged us this morning to think of our New Year Resolutions list not as a "to-do" list, but as a "to-be" list. Of course, the distinction is minor, considering that being anything different requires doing some things different . . . however, I still like the distinction.

What is on my "to-be" list for 2016?

In 2016, I want to be healthy.

In 2016, I want to be productive.

In 2016, I want to be physically and emotionally present with the people I love.

But one goal that is NOT on my 2016 to-be list is to be happy. I'm not saying I want to be unhappy. Rather, I have learned as I've gotten old that when I aim for happy, I get nothing. Momentary elation, if I'm lucky, but I quickly fall back into drab melancholy. Happiness is not a goal; happiness is a by-product.

And it's not a by-product of being healthy or productive or present with the people I love . . . because I've been all of those things at various times in my life and was often still miserable deep-down, if I was honest with myself. The only times I can say I was every truly happy – or a better word would be joyful – is those fleeting moments when I accomplished the last thing on my to-be list.

In 2016, I want to be intimate with God.

As often as possible. As deeply as possible. Everything else that means anything or that satisfies my soul flows from that. So, I wish the same for the rest of you. Happy God-Filled New Year!

Looking for Joy in All the Right Places

At church yesterday, we lit the Advent candle of joy. Joy is my middle name. Literally, not figuratively . . . though I would gladly trade the literal for the figurative.

Joy seems so elusive to people. Happiness is not, although we think it is. Happiness is temporary and surface-level. I feel happy when I get to sleep in. I feel happy when the dog greets me enthusiastically at the door. I feel happy when my favorite Christmas song comes on the radio. I feel happy when I eat dark-chocolate-covered blueberries.

Joy is different. Joy is deeper. Joy is a condition of the heart, not a reaction to my circumstances. I've known people who profess to be joyful, Christians who claim to have "the joy of Christ" (or some churchy thing like that), whose daily attitudes show them up for liars. You can't have joy and grumble every time I see you about how hard your life is and how uncooperative your kids are and how inadequate your bank account is and how decrepit your body has become . . .

It occurred to me this past week (for some unknown reason) that an awful lot of us believe that our joy -- or at least our happiness, but probably our joy, as well -- is dependent on being able to do the things we want to do. Kids assume they'll be happy when they're adults and can do all the things they can't do when they're young. Adults assume they'll be happy when they're retired and can spend their days not working, but doing what they want. Poor people assume they'd be happy if they had enough money to not have to work so hard at a job they don't like. Rich people assume they'd be happy if they didn't have obligations to people to do things they don't enjoy doing.

I know that I would give my right arm for a day with no obligations of any kind, present or future, when I could spend my time on whatever appeals to me at that moment and not feel guilty doing so.

But I have enough sense to know that, although that might make me happy for the day, it would not make me joyful. Joy is different. Joy is deeper. Joy is a condition of the heart. Joy has nothing to do with doing what I want to do instead of what I have to do.

Joy, it seems, has more to do with doing the things I'm truly supposed to be doing as opposed to the things I think I should be doing or the things I think will make me happy. Doing those good works that "God prepared in advance" for me to do.

If God prepared some low-key, menial work for me to do, I will never find joy doing the grand and glorious work I prefer that gets me lots of attention and praise from the people who see me.

If God prepared some kids for me to nurture and raise, I will never find joy putting them in daycare every day and running off to a job, even if I love what I do, even if I am "changing lives" in my fabulous profession, even if I think being a stay-at-home mom will drive me crazy.

Joy comes from being exactly where God wants you, because God made you and knows how He made you and what you were made for. Because the joy comes not from what we're doing, but from the condition of our heart when we are so in love with God and so completely trusting of His love for us that we are willing to go to the lions if that's what He calls us to. When that relationship with God is completely right (which is a daily effort while we're here on earth, I think), our heart is right, and the joy comes.

This is not a revelation to most believers. We know this. The revelation comes in how poorly we are living what we profess to believe. If we believe that our joy is in our relationship to God, why do we continue to seek it in the praise of others? In the love of our family? In success at our careers? In dark-chocolate-covered blueberries? Why do we give little more than obligatory lip service to the one thing we were created for and then wonder and complain about the fact that we have no genuine joy in our lives?

Seek joy this week, friends -- in the only place it can ever be found.

Christmas and the Six C's of History

Mrs. A is the history teacher extraordinaire at our school, and last Friday, she had lunch with my daughter and her homeschool cohorts to discuss the six C's of history: change over time, causality, context, complexity, contingency, and connection. To think like a historian, you need to look for these things in the stories you study.

This conversation came back again in church yesterday as we talked about Joseph.

See, as much hullabaloo as Christmas gets, we need to remember that it is the lesser of the two primary Christian holidays. The Christmas story is only the prelude to the real story -- the one we celebrate on Easter.  But, of course, Easter wouldn't have happened without Christmas. Contingency.

And our view of the Christmas story is pretty sentimentalized. As Aaron, our Sunday School teacher pointed out, while Luke's presentation of the story could be almost lullaby-ish (and that's the one you hear the most), Matthew's brings out the brutality of the age. Herod the king was a genuine lunatic; that slaughter of hundreds of babies was bloody and unspeakable. Picture this happening in a middle eastern country today and the international outcry it would cause. But back then, the king was the king, and he did what he wanted. Change over time.

Joseph must have been a pretty resourceful man to pick up his wife and newborn at the drop of a hat, in response to a warning in a dream, and move them to Egypt (the closest place out of Herod's jurisdiction) and just live there for a couple years. Finding a way to make a living and a place to live among a people of a different language, culture, and religion. We have romantic images in our mind of them camping out or something down there for a couple weeks . . . no, it was years. Herod died and his son took over. They had started a new life. And then they picked up and came home again at another angel's instructions in a dream. Causality . . . complexity . . . and prophetic fulfillment thrown in there, to boot.

But a certain detail of the story stuck out to me yesterday. When Mary was found to be pregnant, this was scandalous. Actually, scandal is hardly the word for it. Extramarital sex is so commonplace anymore, a single woman getting pregnant is hardly news these days, unfortunately. But the Jewish law said that Mary could be stoned to death. Joseph had every right to call her out and have her executed. Context.

But he didn't. Even before the angel came to fill him in on what was going on with this baby, he had already made the decision to "put her away quietly." Just end the relationship. No public condemnation. Leaving her alone with a baby may sound cold-hearted to the modern ear, but folks, this was a tremendous act of mercy on his part. More context.

Fascinating to think: the whole story could have ended right there. She's my betrothed -- she's pregnant -- it's not mine -- hand her over to the authorities for punishment, which was death. Had that happened, of course, God would have found another way to save the world, but He chose these people for this task because he knew that wouldn't happen. He knew Joseph. He knew he was merciful. He knew he would hear God's voice and obey. And the Christmas story -- and therefore the Easter story -- depended on Joseph's mercy and obedience.

Contingency.

So much depends on mercy and obedience. So much that we are not even the least bit aware of. This small act of mercy . . . this seemingly insignificant act of obedience . . . could have monumental effects on your life, other lives, society, even history. I must never forget to be merciful and to obey.

And there, my friends, is connection.

What Happened to Kids TV?

Even though my girls are getting older, it seems that Disney and Nickelodeon are the most-watched television channels in our house. I can't complain too much; Lord knows they are better than a lot of the stuff out there that teens are watching.

But I have noticed over the last several years some interesting cycles in children's television. Here is a sample of some of the newest shows these channels offer kids these days.

"KC Undercover" -- a girl who is a secret spy, which all the required gadgets spies have
"Best Friends Whenever" -- two girls who can travel through time
"The Thundermans" -- a family of superheroes
"Henry Danger" -- a kid who becomes a superhero's sidekick
"Talia in the Kitchen" -- a girl who has magical spices she can use in her food
"Dog with a Blog" -- a family with a talking dog (this one was just cancelled, as was . . . )
"The Haunted Hathaways -- a family of ghosts living with another family (nevertheless . . . )

Notice a pattern here? These kids all have "powers", magical abilities that normal kids don't have. "Wizards of Waverly Place" probably kicked off this wave several years ago. Interesting . . .

Now, a few years ago, I was seeing a different trend (one that still is bleeding over a bit into today; some of these shows are still on):

"Austin and Ally" -- a couple of kids who become famous pop singers
"Liv and Maddie" -- a famous TV actress comes home to live with her family again
"Shake It Up" -- a couple of girls get gigs dancing on a TV show
"ANT Farm" -- a class of kids with unusual talents, led by a singer/musician
"Victorious" -- a school for the performing arts
"iCarly" -- a couple kids with a popular webshow
"Big Time Rush" -- a boys' band trying to make it big
"Sonny with a Chance" -- kids on a TV sketch comedy show
"Hannah Montana" -- which probably started this trend

Yep -- a bunch of shows about kids becoming famous performers.

So, where are the shows about regular kids living regular lives? There are a few, and they kind of stand out. "Girl Meets World" is probably the biggest one these days. Except for the fact that it is overtly and quite intentionally sappy and preachy, it may be one of the best shows on these channels right now.

Very likely, this isn't news to anyone. Kids shows have probably used these themes for years. But then I look at some of my girls' favorite kids' shows from the past:

"Drake and Josh" -- an all-time favorite, about two relatively normal kids (yes, Drake has a band, but it's not the center of the show)
"Zoey 101" -- bad acting and writing, but again, pretty regular (albeit rich) kids
"Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide" -- regular kids surviving middle school
"Lizzie McGuire" -- my eldest STILL watches old episodes of this at night and loves it because the characters are genuine and real.

I don't know that there is a particular point I want to make here. Just observations -- mainly that writing a good TV show for kids must be pretty difficult because it's not often done very well.