Friday, April 29, 2005

New Bike Could Make My Job A Lot Easier - in 4 years or so

So this bike is cool.

The design features a single front wheel and two slim rear wheels that are initially splayed outward to stabilize and prevent the rider from toppling over. As the rider accelerates and leans forward, the rear wheels shift inward, narrowing into a single wheel surface that essentially makes it a two-wheel venture.



Now, some people might say it seems a little whimpy to learn how to ride a bike without the fear of falling over and bashing yourself on the ground. I mean, isn't that what growing up is all about: bruises and pain?

The whole thing reminds me of this Calvin and Hobbes strip.

Enron Execs: White Collar Terrorism

My father-in-law told me about a film he recently saw. It's called Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room. I read a review of it, which you can read here.

The bottom line: these corporate guys basically hoodwinked consumers with illegal profiteering and accounting practices, and in the process bankrupted the world's 7th largest company and cheated millions of people of millions of dollars.

In his review of the movie, Roger Ebert writes:

We hear Enron traders laughing about "Grandma Millie," a hypothetical victim of the rolling blackouts, and boasting about the millions they made for Enron. As the company goes belly up, 20,000 employees are fired. Their pensions are gone, their stock worthless. The usual widows and orphans are victimized. A power company lineman in Portland, who worked for the same utility all his life, observes that his retirement fund was worth $248,000 before Enron bought the utility and looted it, investing its retirement funds in Enron stock. Now, he says, his retirement fund is worth about $1,200.


Astounding.

Ebert makes the point that people don't seem to be too mad about this scandal. Maybe it's because the stories aren't out there as much. Maybe it's because it doesn't affect too many people, or they think it doesn't affect them directly.

I know that I am affected, if only peripherally. The State of California has this thing called the State Teachers Retirement System, which invests money for my retirement. That STRS account invested heavily in Enron and lost 600 million dollars because of the scandal. They're suing Enron over the money, but the chances that they'll get it back is pretty slim.

In his famous work "The Inferno," Dante talks about the layers of hell. The final circle, the hottest, is Circle 9 called the "Realm of Compound Fraud." It's reserved for people who commit treachery against people who should be able to trust them. Judas is there. So is Brutus.

If I were writing the story, I'd put folks like Kenneth Lay in there pretty deep, too.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

I'm...too sexy for my onesie...

I call this look "Blue Steel."

I've learned to smile, and I will not stop!

Cute, eh?

Flavored Condoms and Lube: Not Your Typical Day in High School

This past Friday, the high school where I teach at, Gunderson High School, had an assembly for the students. It was actually a pretty cool thing. It was called Are You In An Unhealthy Relationship?. The idea was to educate young people as to the dangers of abusive or even violent dating relationships, to flag the warning signs, and to provide information and encouragement that it doesn't have to be that way.

Desperately needed on our campus, let me tell you. Probably desperately needed on every high school campus, if you ask me. We spent far too much time teaching Algebra on this campus and not nearly enough time educating our kids on stuff like "how to manage interpersonal conflict" or "how not to gossip." But this is just my opinion. The State - and probably many mathematicians - disagree with me.

At any rate, we had some students who volunteered to act out little skits and vignettes about dating abuse and violence. It was pretty realistic and pretty authentic, I felt. The kids laughed and giggled at parts, but mainly it was because they were uncomforable, I think. Or too familiar.

Anyway, after the assembly during first period, there was this group that is loosely affliliated with the one that came to talk to the kids on the campus. They're called "Our House" and it's a teenage shelter for runaways and homeless kids. They stood outside the auditorium and handed out, to any student who was interested, flavored condoms and little packets of lubrication.

Flavored condoms.

Flavored.

No information with the condoms. No materials. No explanation. No brochures, no lecture, no speeches. All the kids knew was that after they came out of an assembly which urged them to make healthy relationship decisions, they were being handed condoms.

I had a really, really weird reaction to this. I seriously wanted to grab a whip and drive these people away from the school. From my kids.

I pulled who I assumed to be the leader aside.

"What are you doing?" I asked her. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"Anything that helps prevent STDs or pregnancy is a good measure," she said.

"Flavored condoms?" I said, incredulously. "This is not candy. Do you realize what message you're sending our kids and how confusing and destructive it is? Do you?"

Thankfully, our AP Frank Perez came and quickly kicked "Our House" off campus. They happened to be in violation of District Policy. Even if they weren't, they're in violation of not using their heads.

The whole thing got me thinking about why I about blew my lid. I guess the main reason is that I care about my kids, and these idiots from "Our House" were sending messages that were entirely destructive. On my school. To my kids.

I don't know how I feel about handing out condoms at school or hospitals. On one hand, it is a medical issue, and there are health issues here. And I suppose if I'm against teenage pregnancy, then I should be in favor of anything that prevents that. And I am, I guess, for the most part.

But teen sex is not just a medical issue.

And this is where I get the most frustrated. There needs to be 100 people handing out pamphlets about PSI, postponing sexual involvment. We should be holding assemblies and doing all that at EVERY school talking about how teenagers should simply not be having sex. There is no good reason for a teenager in high school to have sex. None. And we need to be frank and honest and talk about how destructive it can be.

I think next year, I'm going to see what I can do to get an assembly that addresses this on Gunderson's campus. Maybe hold a forum, or something, or invite a few guest speakers.

There's too much compartmentalization here. People treat teenage sex like it is either a spiritual issue (for youth groups to deal with) or a medical one (for the school nurse to deal with). It's neither and it's both.

I don't know how I feel. On one hand, I desperately want people to be whole and to live good lives. And it makes me feel weird when I hear that Kaiser Permanente has a program where you can go to any Kaiser and turn in a needle and get a clean one for free.

Doesn't someone need to say, "Uhh, okay, here's your needle, and here's a tag. Put this on your toe because if you keep doing that stuff, you're going to be in our morgue downstairs."

You know? What do you think?

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Really Bad Prom Poetry

For prom, my seniors came up with the idea of selling "Prom Grams." They're basically customized notes and flowers get sent to the person of your choice as a way of inviting folks to prom. The idea is to get students the courage up to ask people to prom. My students had a few teachers write love poems to include as options on the "Prom Grams." I was asked to write the stupid ones and so my students and I sat down and wrote about 10. We finally ended up with these four.

They're exceptionally bad, and I think rather humorous.

Richie's Legacy
Sometimes life is confusing
Like the time in 4th grade
When our teacher
Made us learn all the words to “La Bamba”
And I realized that they don’t really make much sense
But they sound good
And even though me asking you to prom
might not make sense
I still think it’s good
And that Richie Valens would want us to dance
“Soy Capitan”
I am the captain
And I need someone to sail with
Well, not sail with, literally
Literally I need someone to go with me to prom
And I was hoping that’d be you.
Do it for Ritchie.


THERE AREN’T WORDS

There aren’t words to describe how I feel
About you
Well, that’s not exactly true
There are words
But I’m not that good at English
And my vocabulary is rather basic.
I don’t know a lot of words
Like the word “vivisect”
I think it’s a science word
Or maybe the name of a girl I thought I once knew.
No, that was “Vivian.”
You see what I mean.
Not good.
At English.
So instead, I’m sending you this card
With a poem
Someone else wrote
Especially for you
Know that it’s from my heart
Or at the very least,
From the heart of the guy
Who wrote this poem.



REJECTION CONSIDERED

If you said no
And didn’t go with me to prom
My heart would feel
like a dog that just ate a whole bunch of grass
And is about to be sick
All over the tile
In the kitchen
The yellow pool of vomit
Making my mom slip
When she comes into the kitchen
With the groceries
That’s about how I would feel
If you didn’t go to prom with me.




YOU ARE LIKE

Your smile is like that flicker,
When the TV set comes on,
And I hear that awesome jingle,
Of that 70s Show theme song.

Your laugh is like a download
From the iTunes apple store,
That I got free from Pepsi,
When my cap was the one in four.

You’re cooler than a Jamba Juice,
You’re sweeter than Horchata,
You’re kinda like my hot cheetos,
Except you’re even hotter.

I love to spend time with you,
You’re the Jessica to my Nick
Except that unlike those two,
I don’t think that we’d split.

So in short, I think you’re awesome,
You’re totally da bomb,
So won’t you please consider,
Going with me to the prom.

My Son's Favorite Toy; Thoughts about Circles and Friendship

So we bought my son this playmat thing.

My son loves this thing.

It's called the Fisher Price Flutterbye Dreams Lullabye Birdies Musical Gym. If you ask me, that's too much of a product description. I also believe it is the first time I have ever seen the phrase "lullabye" and "gym" and "musical" in the same sentence. It's pretty random. It's almost like having the phrases "vasoline" and "chocolate" and "show tunes" all in the same sentence.

Okay, maybe not that weird.

FRIENDS MOVING
So I was listening to this sermon yesterday about Jesus, and how he had like four layers of people he dealt with. There were the masses. Then, in Acts, it says that there were like, 120 people who were really devoted, and these were the people who formed the genesis of the early Church. Then, there were 72 disciples he sent out. Then there were the 12 main disciples. And then there were the 3, Peter, James and John.

Matthew 17
The Transfiguration

After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus. Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters–one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

First off, what an incredible experience for Peter and James and John. I mean, wow. And Peter's reaction to the whole thing was like the first building program in history. "Let's build something!"

The speaker's point was that Jesus spends no time apologizing to the other 9 for taking the 3 up on the mountaintop for the whole transformation experience. I guess even Jesus knows that you can't be best friends with 72 people.

It got me thinking about people and relationships. Basically, there are like 5 circles in this story:

OUTER CIRCLE: The masses, people you interact with everyday
120 Group: People you know, and maybe send Christmas cards to
72 Sent Out: The people you interact with probably a couple times a month, though pretty surface
12 Disciples: The people who come over and eat at your house. You see these people definately once a week
3 Inner Circle: The people who KNOW you. These are probably every day people.

It's clear that the most important people are in those last two circles. Our tendency, with cell phones and gadgets and IM and email is to get shallower and shallower with more and more people. Instead of, you know, getting deeper and deeper with just a few.

Who's In Your Inner Circle?
I was thinking about this because I've been helping my buddy, Jonathan, pack up his stuff because he's moving to go to Chicago, where he is pursuing his Phd in Theology. Not just pursuing it, but he will track it down, pin it to the ground, and rip its throat out. Metaphorically, speaking.

This is all very exciting.

Very exciting.

I mean, sort of. I have a bunch of his stuff in my garage, to help store it. Every morning, when I go out in my garage to feed my cat, I see his stuff. It hit me this morning that pretty soon, I'm not going to see his bookcases and his futon. And when I don't, I won't see him anymore.

That made me unbelievably sad this morning. That stupid futon, with those stupid rainbow-colored straps holding the stupid mattress together.

I know it's a good thing - no, a God thing - that he and Kari are moving, but that doesn't make it much easier.

My phone has 9 speed dial numbers. He and his wife are numbers 7 and 8. Seven and Eight never seemed like such big numbers before.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Really, Really Bad Writing: Winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Contest Are Hilariously Awful

Every year at San Jose State, the English Department holds a contest called the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. The award is named after Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who first wrote, way back in 1830, that famous first line...It was a dark and stormy night....

The contest is to write the first line - and only the first line - of a really bad novel. I have posted the winners and runners up from the 2004 and 2005 Awards. May you laugh as much as I did.

2004 Winners:

10: The notion that they would no longer be a couple dashed Helen's hopes and scrambled her thoughts not unlike the time her sleeve caught the edge of the open egg carton and the contents hit the floor like fragile things hitting cold tiles, more pitiable because they were the expensive organic brown eggs from free-range chickens, and one of them clearly had double yolks entwined in one sac just the way Helen and Richard used to be.

9: She sipped her latte gracefully, unaware of the milk foam droplets building on her mustache, which was not the peachy-fine baby fuzz that Nordic girls might have, but a really dense, dark, hirsute lip-lining row of fur common to southern Mediterranean ladies nearing menopause, and winked at the obviously charmed Spaniard at the next table.

8: Detective Micky Blarke arrived on the scene at 2:14 am, and gave his cigarette such a severe pull that rookie Paul Simmons swore the insides of the detective's cheeks touched, but the judge indicated that that amount of detail was not necessary in his testimony, and instructed the jury to disregard that statement.

7: The knife handle jutted from her chest like one of the plastic pop-up timers in a frozen turkey, but from the blood pooling around the wound, it was apparent that this bird wasn't done.

6: The cat's whiskers twitched like the wings of a butterfly, not a large butterfly like a monarch, but a small one, like an Eastern Pine Elfin, which camouflages wonderfully with the bark of trees, not just pine trees, but also elm trees, whose slender twigs wave in the early spring breeze, looking like the twitching whiskers of the cat, which I have just mentioned.

5: She was a tough one, all right, as tough as a marshmallow--not one of those soft sticky ones used in s'mores, cooked to a turn over a good campfire, or even like the stale chewy type covered in yellow sugar and found at the bottom of a three-week-old Easter basket--no, she was tough like a freeze-dried marshmallow in kid's cereal that despite being shaped like a little balloon and colored a friendly pink are so rock solid that they are responsible for the loss of more baby teeth than most older siblings.

4: "This town's not big enough for the two of us," growled Slim Jenkins, "but I think that if we can get the townspeople to agree to issue a bond to annex the Carter Ranch, we can then incorporate and there should be plenty of room for everyone."

3: Her pendulous breasts swung first to the left, then to the right and finally in independent directions, much like semaphore signals, and although he couldn't understand semaphore, Kyle was sure they were saying, "Never ride the Tilt-A-Whirl with your grandma."

2: Africa: a land of deserts and jungles, a land of wars ancient and recent, ravaged by disease and famine and yet the source of nine-tenths of the world's diamonds, a land of gigantic waterfalls and the great Rift Valley, the very source of all humanity, a land 6000 miles away from where this story takes place.

1: She resolved to end the love affair with Ramon tonight . . . summarily, like Martha Stewart ripping the sand vein out of a shrimp's tail . . . though the term "love affair" now struck her as a ridiculous euphemism . . . not unlike "sand vein," which is after all an intestine, not a vein . . . and that tarry substance inside certainly isn't sand . . . and that brought her back to Ramon.

2005 Winners

10) "As a scientist, Throckmorton knew that if he were ever to break wind in the echo chamber, he would never hear the end of it."

9) "Maynard Fimble was told that "you can't compare apples and oranges," but, he thought, they are both eatable, grow on trees, are about the same size, are good for you, have a peel, come in many varieties, and are approximately round in shape, thus, to his horror and guilt, he realized that he was comparing them and wondered what punishment awaited him and on whose order."

8) "With a curvaceous figure that Venus would have envied, a tanned, unblemished oval face framed with lustrous thick brown hair, deep azure-blue eyes fringed with long black lashes, perfect teeth that vied for competition, and a small straight nose, Marilee had a beauty that defied description."

7) "Andre, a simple peasant, had only one thing on his mind as he crept along the East wall: 'Andre creep... Andre creep... Andre creep.'"

6) "Stanislaus Smedley, a man always on the cutting edge of narcissism, was about to give his body and soul to a back alley sex-change surgeon to become the woman he loved."

5) "Although Sarah had an abnormal fear of mice, it did not keep her from eeking out a living at a local pet store."

4) "Stanley looked quite bored and somewhat detached, but then penguins often do."

3) "Like an over-ripe beefsteak tomato rimmed with cottage cheese, the corpulent remains of Santa Claus lay dead on the hotel floor."

2) "Mike Hardware was the kind of private eye who didn't know the meaning of the word 'fear'; a man who could laugh in the face of danger and spit in the eye of death -- in short, a moron with suicidal tendencies."

AND THE WINNER IS.....

1) "The sun oozed over the horizon, shoved aside darkness, crept along the greensward, and, with sickly fingers, pushed through the castle window, revealing the pillaged princess, hand at throat, crown asunder, gaping in frenzied horror at the sated, sodden amphibian lying beside her, disbelieving the magnitude of the frog's deception, screaming madly, 'You lied!"

Some Good Quotes

Okay, enough complaining. My previous post was a bit pessimistic, which is unlike the Tiecheman. Normally, when life throws me lemons, I peel them and make a nice potpourri. But the following are some quotes I came across recently that are pretty darn thought-provoking. Add to the list with ones you like.

"I think, therefore I am."
- Rene Descartes

"Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they've hit a triple."
- Barry Switzer, former coach of the Oklahoma Sooners and the Dallas Cowboys.

"A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships are built for."
- John A. Shedd

"A husband is like a fire. They go out if they're unattended."
- Zsa Zsa Gabor

"There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest."
       - Elie Wiesel

"When the eagles are silent, the parrots begin to jabber."
- Sir Winston Churchill

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Pretty Discouraging: Ungrateful Students Make Me Want To Quit Teaching

This past weekend, I went up to Camp Jones Gulch up in Half-Moon Bay. What would possess a man to leave his month-old baby and wife for an entire weekend, you ask?

37 kids.

This past weekend, we had our First Annual Gunderson Advanced Placement Retreat. Which of course raises all kinds of questions, namely can you have a first annual something? Doesn't the word annual imply repetition?

I digress. So the idea was not mine, but my co-teacher and probably closest male friend on campus, Matt Hewitson. Hewitson teaches AP Government, so we share like 90 percent of our kids. We got it in our heads that it would be a fun and memorable event to take our kids up to cabins in the Redwoods and just hang out, have fun, prepare for the up-coming tests.

We were half right. Memorable it was. But for all the wrong reasons.

I don't mean to over-generalize, and there were definately some shining moments that I'll always remember. For example, taking on the challenge posed by three members of the boys' basketball team to face them 3-3 with myself and two members of the girl's varsity basketball team. The girls and Tieche won 15-13.

There was also a moment this morning when 4 kids joined me around the outdoor chapel, which was a ring of Redwoods for a Sunday morning outdoor church service. The morning mist shrouded the camp in coolness, and we all sat, huddled in blankets, talking about our journeys with Christ. The kids talked about how it was difficult to be Christian in high school. It was a good time. Later on, Hewitson joined our small circle, and we got to talk about some great stuff and I learned about his faith, and where he is. It was a really cool conversation which I know will continue.

But overall, the weekend sucked eggs.

And you want to know why? Because I did nothing pretty much the whole weekend except fend off complaints: Why are we doing that? That's stupid? This sucks. I don't want to do that. That isn't fair. I don't want to. This sucks.

We took them down a zip line. That sucked.
A four-story climbing wall. That sucked.
Kickball? Sucked.
Indoor games? Sucked.
Night hike? Sucked.
Skits? Sucked.
Campfire. Sucked.

I heard the comments everwhere I turned. To be fair, and to be sure, it wasn't every kid. There were about 20 of the 37 who probably didn't say a single negative comment. But the other 17 did nothing but spew forth negativity. And they were loud enough and vocal enough and negative enough to drain even the most dedicated of teachers.

The whole thing started out on an auspicious note. On Friday, the day we were going to leave, Matt took the day off to finalize getting stuff for the retreat. He ran to Cosco, bought food, got a whole bunch of flashlights. He came back to campus about 11 a.m., and we were slated to leave at 1. Sometime before lunch, someone broke into his car, took all his camping gear, took the food, took the flashlights, took his sleeping bag. They even took his car stereo.

While he was parked in Gunderson's parking lot.

Did I mention we have security on campus? And two police officers? Yeah.

Again, certainly not something that every kid on Gunderson's campus did. But it's the kind of stuff that just totally deflates you.

Then, after taking the whole weekend off to plan and provide this awesome experience, to see this side of the kids. To hear the way that cuss words just flowed out of their mouths without thinking. To see the sexual innuendos and language they freely used. To see their stark sense of entitlement.

And I kept wondering, "These kids are poor. The school paid 2,500 for this trip. They only had to pay like 40 dollars for the whole weekend. Where did they get this sense that they deserve it?"

I don't know. But it drained me emotionally. And spiritually.

I was reminded of two things. First, that I would buy my son any toy to make him smile and give him joy. But the second I sense a spirit of ungratefulness, I'm going to come down like a hammer.

Second, I thought about how often God has to deal with this, and on so much of a larger, more personal scale.

Makes you stop and think before you complain.

Regardless, this is the kind of weekend that made all of us reconsider teaching. Maybe it's because it's April, and we're all a bit tired. Or maybe it's because it's late, and I'll feel differently tomorrow. Or maybe, like the kids, I'm being overwhelmingly negative.

Or maybe it's because we've just plain had enough.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Random News

Mac Announced New OS. They're calling it Tiger. I feel like they're secretly going through all the The Thundercats. First there was Panther. Then Jaguar. Uhh, what large cats are left? Mountain Lion? Bobcat? Puma? Or maybe they'll move away from the Felis species and into the realm of canis. Wolf. Greyhound. Snauzer.

Christian Terrorist Bombed People So this crazy dude, Eric Rudolph was finally caught. This was the guy who bombed the 1996 Olympics and several abortion clinics. He killed 2 people and injured 110 in his spree. He says he is a Christian, which is the kind of thing that kind of makes you ill, if you're Christian. His reason for killing? This is his answer from a CNN transcript. "Abortion is murder. And when the regime in Washington legalized, sanctioned and legitimized this practice, they forfeited their legitimacy and moral authority to govern."

Crazy thing is, I have heard Christians say that exact sentence. When you start sounding like a homicidal bombing freak, maybe it's time to revisit how you work out your faith in the real world.

Muslim Terrorist Kills Christian Missionaries An Egyptian man who was studying Jihad and how to make bombs went into a crowded Egyptian bazaar last Thursday with some exposives and some nails. The bomb went off, killing four people, injuring dozens of others. One of the men killed was a 21-year missionary from Mars Hill Church in Grand Rapids, the church that Rob Bell pastors. He and his brother were finishing up a several-month long journey through Africa, helping out missionaries in Africa.

Tough loss for that community back here. Pray for their parents and the young man's brother, who is in a hospital in Cairo, recovering from his wounds. Hard to understand, sometimes, why things happen. In his sermon eulogizing the young man, Rob Bell points to the story in John, where Jesus cries for Lazarus. He notes that Jesus spends NO TIME speculating on the whys. He doesn't postulate reasons, or give a Bible verse or two.

It's important when tragedy hits for us not to do that, either.

Second point Bell makes is that Jesus felt the full brunt of the emotional pain. It says in the text that his heart was overcome with sorrow. In order to feel great joy, you have to feel great pain. And if the Lord of the Universe needs a good cry, then so do I.

Wise words.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Poem Interpretations: How Life Experiences Shape A Person's Relationship with God More Than We Realize

Sometimes, our own experiences really shape the way that we see certain things. I had the most amazing experience with this today in my 2nd period AP English class. We were looking at the poem "My Papa's Waltz" by Theodore Roethke.


My Papa's Waltz
by Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.


Tieche's Interpretation
Being a recent father, I imagined the poem to be about a memory of a boy recalling a time where his father swept him up in his arms, and the two "romped" around the kitchen until he "waltzed" his boy to sleep, with his son clinging to his shirt, as if to say, "I don't want to go to bed, Papa." In short, I took the poem as positive.

Half the Class' Interpretation
However, not everyone in the class saw that. Many saw evidence of alcholism and the abuse that sometimes accompanies it. They saw words like "mother's countenence could no unfrown itself" as a sign of marital disapproval: this was not a sweet thing. Also, the father is clearly drunk, if the smell of whiskey was so thick that it could make a boy "dizzy." And the strange metaphor, "I hung on like death" doesn't lend itself to positive interpretations.

The "romping" they said was not fun and joyful, but more violent in nature, to the point where pans were falling off the shelves. At the very least, the father seems a bit out of control. And maybe not in a good way. And then the final line, about clinging, one of my students said, "When you're a boy, and your parents hit you, you still cling to them, you want to be near them, even though they hurt you."

This interpretation seems true as well.

Ambiguity
The point in all this, I suppose, is how so much of life is colored by our own experiences. I asked the class to vote: about 50 percent of the kids said they agreed with the "nice" interpretation and about 50 percent said that they detected abuse. It wasn't split down gender or racial or intelligence lines either: it was really 50/50.

From a poetry standpoint, Roethke's poem is ambiguous enough to lend itself to interpretations either way. What gets me is the way people lean based on their experience.

It got me thinking a lot about God. How many times do people, looking at what seems like pretty ambiguous evidence in life, make suppositions about God based on their experience. This happened to me, so God is mean. Or this happened over here, so God isn't fair. And a lot of people think that the evidence in life really could go either way.

In her famous poem I Never Lost As Much But Twice famed American poet Emily Dickinson puts forth her embittered view of God - a theme that runs through many of her poems. She writes:

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

Angels — twice descending
Reimbursed my store —
Burglar! Banker — Father!
I am poor once more!


God here, is described as a Burglar. Not just a thieft, but a thief in your home. And the idea of God as a Banker - an impersonal, calculating figure with whom we not only can't argue with, but who holds authority and isn't really caring - is really a destructive way to view God.

I imagine just looking at the world, a lot of people get this concept of God. How unfair this is to God, and how much it must hurt His heart.

My first year teaching, I had this kid, Sean, who was killing himself with drugs. He was about 5 foot 5, and 95 pounds. He'd go into McDonalds in the morning before school and snort a line in the bathroom. He'd come down in my class, sometimes. I spent hours pursuing a solution, listening to him, talking to counselors about him, talking to counselors with him. One day, he said to me:

"You don't care about me. You don't care about a lot of your students. You just do this stuff so you can make yourself feel good, and be all Christian."

That really hurt. And I bet a lot of things get said about God that don't give God nearly the credit he deserves. Or make him into a Monster.

I guess part of being a Christian is reminding the word that God really is good. Sometimes that means telling His story, both from Scripture and from our lives.

And sometimes, I guess it means convincing people through our actions exactly the kind of God that God is, and trying to prove - through graciousness, justice and vast amounts of unmerited generosity - that God really is good. We have to swing the evidence away from ambuity.

So I guess I have a new question to ask God daily: What kinds of things can I do today that will swing someone's opinion?

It's a dangerous question to ask because it might require me to give up what I have (money, time, emotional effort, etc) so that someone else might be whole. This is never easy. But always worth it.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Darth Vader drives a Hybrid?

I was talking to my buddy Jonathan Ziman, aka Jay-Z, Sunday morning as he was driving back up from LA, where he and his wife and two little girls had just spent a week's vacation.

Now, as some of you know, NorCal folks are a lot different than SoCal folks. For example, NorCal folks might own SUVs, but they at least use them to drive up in the mountains. SoCal people have giant vehicles just to look good. I read an article the other day about how folks were putting multiple televisions in H2 Hummers. Honk if you're changing channels.

Anyway, there are a lot of vanity plates in SoCal, mainly because there is a lot of vanity. And Jonathan was driving back and we had this exchange. I thought it was funny.

JZ: Oh man, the car in front of me has a personalized license plate.
DAT: Yeah? What is it.
JZ: It reads: SITHLRD
DAT: Sith Lord?
JZ: Yeah.
DAT: Sith. Like Star Wars, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith?
JWZ: I guess. Funny thing is, the license plate is on a Corolla.
DAT: Hahaha.
JWZ: Somehow, I imagined an intergalatic warlord driving something more...menacing.
DAT: Is it at least black?
JWZ: A Corolla...
DAT: Jonathan, but you have to remember how fuel efficient the new Corollas are. I mean, even Sith Lords have to recognize.
JWZ: He's got the yellow ribbon on the side that says, "Support our Troops."
DAT: Hahaha.
JWZ: That doesn't seem like a Evil Emperor of Darkness kind of thing to do.
DAT: Maybe he means, "Support the troops in the Imperial Army that are systematically enslaving and destroying every known race of people across the galaxy."
JWZ: Yeah, maybe it's Support the Clone Troops.
DAT: That'd make more sense.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Prom Play List for My 2005 Seniors Eerie: Gawd, Like, Do You Remember the Late 90s? Totally.

So this afternoon, during the last 15 minutes of my 4th period Journalism class, I had a complete breakdown in all educational processes resulting in a chaotic maelstrom that wasn't conducive to learning at all.

But oh, was it fun.

We were talking about Prom, because it's coming up, and we were discussing how to cover it. And the students asked me what songs were played at my prom.

Now, I don't remember much about the proms I went to. I think I went to three, and two of those I think I'm purposely forgetting because I didn't get to go with the girls that I really wanted to go with, which resulted in a very unfair experience for everyone involved, if you ask me.

But at my senior prom, I distinctly remember walking through a tunnel of midnight blue balloons, holding the hand of my date, Leila Blevins, and entering into the hotel ballroom to hear this song: Informer by Snow. This has to be, and contiues to be, one of the worst songs in the history of songwriting. The actual lyrics of the chorus - which are the only intelligible part of the entire song - are:

Informer
You know say daddy me snow me-a (gonna) blame
A licky boom-boom down
'Tective man he say, say Daddy Me Snow me stab someone down the lane
A licky boom-boom down


What?

Licky what?

I also vaguely remember hearing the song "500 Miles" which was performed live and on stage by some friends of mine who had a band that was actually pretty good. They also covered, "It's the End of the World As We Know It" and "Wonderful Tonight."

But back to my seniors. They went haywire when I suggested that they should make a list of their favorite songs. What happened was interesting. The whole class started reminiscing. And the songs they were reminiscing about, the songs they considered Old School were the following. I couldn't catch all of them, but the kids were playing songs on their laptops, and then howling in reminiscence.

I couldn't hear all of them, but here are what my students consider part of their ancient history. Songs that really take them...back. All the way back to the late 90s.

I Want It That Way - by the Backstreet Boys
Wannabe - by the Spice Girls
Crazy - by Britney Spears
Try Again - by Aaliyah
Mo Money, Mo Problems - by Notorious B.I.G.
Semi-charmed Kind of Life - by Third-Eye Blind
Iris - by Goo-Goo Dolls
One Week - by Barenaked Ladies
Barbie Girls - by Aqua
No Diggity - by Blackstreet
Push It - by Salt N Pepper
Smells Like Teen Spirit - by Nirvana
I Will Always Love You - by Whitney Houston

Is it possible that their prom song list will sound a lot like my favorite songs from college?

Minus the Barbie Girl song.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

All Churches Should Be Multiracial: New Books Says Monolithic Faith Communities Are Bad For Christians, Christianity

I was in my friend Jonathan's bathroom the other day - because he was remodeling it - and I saw an issue of Christianity Today sitting on the counter.

The cover said All Churches Should Be Multiracial.

At first, I thought the issue was four years old. I remember a few years ago coming across a book called Divided by Faith by these two Christian sociologists Michael Emerson and Christian Smith. In that book, the two men argued convincingly that racial reconciliation and racial dialogue was not happening in white Evangelical churches, mainly because of bad theology.

That's right: because of theology.

Their take: the historical emphasis from Protestestantism on "personal responsibility" had caused an inability in many white Christians to analyze corporate, societal responsibility. The book, through a series of captivating and shockingly candid interviews, showed time and again that most white Christians assumed that if they personally were not racist, then racism didn't exist. Emerson and Smith found that this caused a lot of tension and frustration. Blacks were frustrated that white people couldn't see or even admit ongoing structural and societal inequalities caused by protected, systemic racism, and whites were frustrated that blacks kept claiming they "had it so hard" when no one they knew was personally racist.

Four years later, the two men have a new book calledUnited by Faith. Christianity Today talks about the article here. They claim that the solution to the race problem has to come from America's churches.

They are, of course, right. They tell a shocking statistic: only 6 percent of America's churches are multiracial. They define multiracial as having a congregation where no more than 80 percent of the congregation is of one race. This is a very liberal definition, and yet only 6 percent of churches fit the criteria.

No one is denying that getting your church to be multi-racial is easy. In fact, in one of the more interesting pieces, four prominent Evangelical pastors talked about what problems they had making their congregations mixed and how hard it is.

But I think it's important, even if it is a slow and at time painful process. Here's why: every single person has their own unqiue cultural biases. Often, we mistake these beliefs for being "Christian" but really have nothing to do with Scripture, but everything to do with group think and the way you were brought up. And in order to bust through those strongholds - many of which are not only non-Christian, but anti-Christian - you need outside perspectives.

I have found this to be unbelievably true in my own life. For most of my life, I grew up in a town that was almost entirely white. My high school graduation class had 535 people in it. 5 were minorities. Three Asians, two black guys. I had never even interacted with a black female my own age until I was 19 years old. So I know about racially monolithic communities.

But my life has been altered because of my experiences in Hawaii where I was an ethnic minority, as a white guy. My life has been altered because of my experiences in college, hanging out and befriending and going to school and rooming with black people. My life has been altered teaching high school, where I interact with first-generation Asian and Latino kids. My life has been altered because of my friendships with my co-workers, who are Asian, Latino and Black.

Becoming multi-racial is not just the church's job. Churches are just mixes of people. If there's going to be change, individuals need to start changing.

I started asking myself some quesitons.
Is your friend base diverse?
Do you interact often with people of different races and backgrounds?
Do I have a close friend that's Asian? That's Black? That's Latino? That's white?
Do these friends have cultural perspectives that are different than mine, and am I listening to them?


And I'm not going to let myself off the hook. I have no excuse, living in Silicon Valley.

These are the hard teachings of Christ. And the hard teachings of Christ - which include stuff like tithing, not gossiping, being honest about how sinful I am, being loving to people I really don't like - are so hard, most people don't even attempt them.

Which is the problem. Isn't it?