Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Project #2: Landscapes

KATE/TETA

I thought as I was mowing my lawn on July 4, that it might be interesting to collect thoughts in prose or poetry about how we see our landscape, our general surroundings. What do we think about our urban, suburban, or rural environments? The thoughts may be political or personal. They may focus on memories of the past or possibilities for the future.

The following is a free verse poem prompted by my yardwork--I found myself thinking of global warming (having just heard that using a gas lawn mower pollutes as much as perhaps eleven cars driving to work). Also in mind was my father's experiences growing up on a farm with no power implements--only with "walking implements." His childhood was powered by horses and human hands.

Perhaps you will click on the "comments" following this poem and add your own thoughts about your immediate environment--your world close at hand--as you have come to think about it. Here are my thoughts found in yardwork:


Yard Work on Independence Day

Proud, I cut the grass--
the lawn mower roars
pulled by a Briggs and Stratton
6 horsepower engine
harnessed by Sears loyalty.
No quiet horses
pause to chew grass.
I gaze,
my crop fresh cut,
machine mulched grass
blue, fescue, rye--
done.

I wonder
if the mower pollutes
(as stated in the news)
more than six horses?
Well, regardless--
I have my work,
my conscience,
here close to earth
and the sweat of my brow
beneath a July sun--
Independence Day.

My land. My horses
choke and sputter and
2-stroke roar--no
neigh and whinny,
no stomp of hooves,
no manure
fresh with labor.
Free in the suburbs,
I send my son
for gas.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Project #1: Share a "Postcard"


KATE/TETA

(This project was inspired by a conversation with Marti Mihalyi, who shared with me "Winter Morning Walks: one hundred postcards to Jim Harrison" by Ted Kooser)

Last October, four English teachers (two from Romania and two from Kansas) stopped to admire the Kansas Tall Grass Prairie. Then chance led to the Emma Chase Cafe in Cottonwood Falls--that is where I ordered gooseberry pie and was informed by Marti Mihalyi, the poet, that there was poetry here--of course we all knew (like we all know) there is poetry everywhere and in everything--even (and maybe especially) in gooseberry pie.

The first KATE/TETA blog project invites original poems or short paragraphs that could fit on a postcard. The goal is to create a sort of scrapbook about Kansas and Romania. The writing may be illustrated with a small picture if wished, or accompanied with an appropriate web page URL. The writing may be done at any level from elementary student to faculty.

To contribute a "postcard," go to the end of the first entry in the project and select the appropriate "Post a comment."

Please write about the common places in your life that are too often overlooked or given to "official tourist guides" to describe. If you respond, please title the poem in such a way that we might know generally where the place is (were we to possess a fairly good map).

For an example, here is a poem (a little too long) about the Tall Grass Prairie overlooking Cottonwood Falls, KS. I wrote this poem just to introduce this project.

Shortgrass in the Tallgrass Prairie
Near Cottonwood Falls

Some grass is short
on the tall-grass prairie--
Yes there are reasons (probably six),
and they'd fit on one postcard--
Yes--a postcard
like flint
or thin soil
might hint at truth--
like one fleck
of dust can blind,
or one glint of light
can bejewel
almost anything--
the slightest
spider web
waiting to capture life--

I have no postcard
about the grass,
but I can say
some grass is short
and I'm telling you so
in this brief poem,
which like flint thin soil
can support the prairie
and touch a memory's forever.


Here are three web sites about the Kansas Tallgrass Prairie and Cottonwood Falls, KS.

Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve
Welcome to Cottonwood Falls, Kansas
Cottonwood Falls, Chase County, Kansas

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

KATE/TETA: a new partnership


KATE/TETA
A visit to Timisoara, Romania (May 24-May 26, 2005)
By Andy Anderson

“Here is the Reformed Church where the revolution of 1989 began,” and a short walk further to Victory Square, “here on the Cathedral steps is where people regrouped to protest Ceausescu and were shot—you can still see the bullet holes”: so my tour through Timisoara continued moving from recent history to the past. The young high school students reported with clarity the experiences that their parents’ lives had shaped and remembered with respect the history of their city. Walking through the streets with these young people, I remembered the sense of wonder with which I had observed the fall of the Iron Curtain—and the sense I had then that the world was entering a time of ambiguity full of promise and foreboding. Preparing to visit Timisoara, I thought of the complexity of world events, but being welcomed by the Timisoara branch of the Romania Association of Teachers of English and being guided through the busy streets of this city on this day with these three students, I found myself in rich conversation listening to what this city had to say of the past, the present, and the future.
Every city is rich in history, but I tend to notice it most when I walk streets foreign to me. History turns at every corner, lifts before me in every arch, column, and wall, and speaks in nuances revealed in every word and vocal tone. I carried a notebook with me to take notes everywhere I went—I have made this a practice when visiting new places. Taking notes forces me to walk slower, to look more closely—and sometimes in museums, other tourists step aside thinking I must be doing something more important than they. But this trip was too short—just three days—the pace too fast to allow time to write. I tried to be attentive, to listen, to see, to just remember. I noticed an Arabic inscription on the Old Town Hall—it had been built on the site of a Turkish public bath built in 1675. The Revolution of 1989, the Hapsburgs, the Ottomans, the Dacians, echoes of all my history courses came to mind. The overwhelming history of a city, the delightful conversation of interested students and friendly English teachers: on this trip, I put down my notebook.
My visit to Timisoara began like most important things—by chance and, of course, following the travels of someone else. Kent Williamson, Executive Director of NCTE, returned from Romania just days before he was scheduled to keynote the Kansas Association of Teachers of English (KATE) 2004 annual conference. Attending the KATE business meeting at the conference, Kent noted he had met some English teachers in Romania interested in forming a partnership with English teachers in the United States, and would KATE be interested? The KATE executive board expressed interest, and that began a series of emails between Dana Valeanu in Timisoara, Romania, and me. Sharing our thoughts, we outlined the major points of an agreement and began developing an Internet discussion group using Google.
Then a more remarkable series of events: I was invited to speak at the Russia National Association of Teachers of English in Izhevsk. That is another story, but I decided, since I would be flying east, I might arrange a visit to Timisoara. Suddenly my two-week break between the end of spring semester and the beginning of summer school was full. At times like this, I simply marvel at a world in which such travel and friendships are possible. By temperament, I am rather a Luddite—yet, I cannot deny or resist the fact that the world is international now in ways that it was not when I began teaching, and technology facilitates that connection. Students and teachers need to be engaged in a world whose borders are increasingly less defined.
Thoreau’s words always moderate my interest in travel: “If you would learn to speak all tongues and conform to the customs of all nations, if you would travel farther than all travellers, be naturalized in all climes, and cause the Sphinx to dash her head against a stone, even obey the precept of the old philosopher, and Explore thyself.” Chances to share and to explore the world provoke questions for me, like those Thoreau pondered and enjoyed by living next to Walden Pond. Technology and travel can be pointless distractions—but they can also promote mature understandings of one’s self in the world. I took the opportunities before me, and I traveled to Budapest, took the train into Romania, returned to Budapest to fly to Moscow, and then on to Izhevsk.
The train into Romania departed Budapest almost full. At each stop approaching Romania, more travelers got off—they were villagers gone off to Budapest for the day—not international travelers. I arrived at the Hungarian/Romanian boarder alone, not only in my train compartment, but in the train car. The customs official came: “Passport!” Handing over my passport is always discomforting for me—schoolboy fears I suppose, wondering if I have forgotten to do something correctly. I hand over my passport, the official scans the pages, “hmmm, from Kansas City?” “Yes.” A firm, sudden stamp!--the official turns, I sigh relieved, and then turning from my compartment, I hear him singing, “Going to Kansas City, Kansas City, here I come.” What does it mean to sit alone on a train at the Romanian border where custom officers can sing the words to “Kansas City”? I took it as a welcome.
My few days in Timisoara passed too quickly: I visited with college students interested in American Studies and was asked if there are really two Americas, and “really, why did Bush invade Iraq?” I visited a high school student council meeting conducted in English since I was present. The Timisoara branch of RATE met, entertained by a group of student actors performing in English. The faculty and students I met reminded me why I love teaching English—they all seemed to enjoy language and each other and the sort of true conversation that brings experience to life. Knowledge is dead without the living breath of conversation.
Of course, practical matters formed the basis of our partnership, and before leaving Timisoara, representing KATE, I signed an agreement with the teachers of Timisoara that we all hope will serve to benefit us professionally. We have agreed to extend invitations to two representatives to our most important professional events, to share teaching materials and ideas, and to exchange publications. In fact, two teachers from Timisoara already plan to attend the KATE conference in October 2005. In addition, we hope to promote special relations between schools that they might be able to arrange visits of faculty and students using host families. Using the Internet, we hope to bring our students together. Our goal is that our partnership will enrich both teachers and students leading all to greater understanding of our shared world.
I will continue to reflect on my travels. Frost’s poem comes to mind. Our roads diverge, and they puzzle us because they are “about the same.” We may choose one “less traveled”—but that may simply mean it hasn’t yet been traveled by us. More importantly, we know that one road leads on to others. Recalling the particulars, the memories of my travels, I am confident this road has made a difference. It certainly opens to a promising future.