Category: Rants (Page 3 of 6)

I get a little riled up occasionally, and then I think about why I am angry. I will continue thinking long after I should have let it go. One great way of getting beyond the issue is to write about it.

What We Can Learn from the Dress Code

May 18, 2018 / Trent / 2 Comments

Photo by Rhii Photography on Unsplash

As the weather turns warmer, I again hear of some student displeasure with the dress code–this sentiment is as cyclical as the seasons. Because it is ridiculous that a school should have no dress code at all, I am tempted to tease that we should just adopt school uniforms? I’d not be serious with this suggestion; I oppose this move because dress codes teach us some very important things.

Advantages of School Uniforms

I will concede that school uniforms have some advantages:

Uniforms instill a sense of professionalism, imitating the business-dress of their possible futures.
They eliminate the hassle of trying to find outfits that meet the dress code and are also in style.
They are cheaper in the long run.
They act as a socioeconomic equalizer.
They eliminate dress codes, that can, given the sexualization of women in our culture, unfairly target girls.

The main reason I am against school uniforms is that, although some learning may improve, a lot of other important things are not learned by the uniformed scholar–things pertaining to Freedom.

Let Freedom Reign

Our culture is obsessed with Freedom.

We celebrate it at our sporting events.
Our television shows explore themes surrounding freedom, often presenting negative caricatures of traditional authorities, limiters of freedom.
Most television talk shows take every possible freedom as an absolute good.
The TV news is full of stories about conflicts about freedom, and it is obvious that if you are not on the side of freedom, you are going to lose the argument.
In popular movies, one of the defining qualities of the bad guy is often that he/she is a suppressor of freedom.
Politicians can win majorities to their positions if they can ground them in Freedom.
Remembrance Day used to commemorate the Armistice that brought WWI to a close, but now it seems it is all about the Freedom that was won in that war.
Originally established to remember those who died while serving in the U.S. military, the language of Freedom dominates Memorial Day celebrations.
The internet, in its very form, perpetuates the values of unrestricted freedom.

It should come as no surprise that some students bristle at the idea of restricting their choice in school attire. They have been raised in this freedom obsessed culture, bombarded with the idea that Freedom is The Ultimate. Freedom is the standard by which we judge between good and evil. Furthermore, starting sometime in adolescence, human beings begin the natural process of moving out from under the authority of parents. This can lead to the natural assertion of personal freedoms against any form of authority– including that of their school. Combine this natural adolescent impulse toward freedom with our particular cultural obsession and you ought not to be surprised when the cry “Freedom!” erupts from some junior William Wallace, especially in the spring.

I oppose school uniforms because, in order to learn how to navigate the world dominated by Freedom worship, our children need to be given freedom. They need to have freedom to make decisions about what they wear so they can come up against the limits of freedom, for freedom can only be good if it is limited. Without limits, it becomes a terrible and demanding deity.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”Students need the freedom to make decisions about what they wear so they can come up against the limits of freedom, for freedom is only good when limited. Without limits, it becomes a terrible and demanding deity. #schooluniforms #hatsinschool” quote=”Students need the freedom to make decisions about what they wear so they can come up against the limits of freedom, for freedom is only good when limited. Without limits, it becomes a terrible and demanding deity. “]

What’s Wrong With Wearing A Hat?

Some students want to wear a hat to school. We happen to be in a time where hats are an important accessory in youth culture, but hats break the dress code. When asked to remove the hat, some ask, “What’s wrong with wearing a hat?” There is nothing wrong with wearing a hat, but it is, sometimes, improper to wear a hat. The reason we don’t wear hats indoors in some public places like churches, restaurants, and schools has to do with propriety. Propriety is the quality of conforming to conventionally accepted standards of behavior or morals. It has long been the case in our culture that hats are to be worn only outside.

Standards of propriety are relative. They change according to place or time. In some cultures, propriety dictates that head coverings must be worn indoors. Ours just happens to be one in which it is traditionally expected that one removes one’s hat when entering a building. Students naturally counter this argument by saying that times have changed, and I am holding on to an outdated convention–propriety has moved on.

I respond by saying that this convention is certainly no longer part of teen sub-culture, but propriety is not dictated by teen sub-culture, but culture as a whole. Even here it might be fading, but it is not yet gone.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”Removing hats indoors is no longer part of teen sub-culture, but propriety is not dictated by teen sub-culture, but culture as a whole. Even here it might be fading, but it is not yet gone. #dresscode #hatsinschool” quote=”Removing hats indoors is no longer part of teen sub-culture, but propriety is not dictated by teen sub-culture, but culture as a whole. Even here it might be fading, but it is not yet gone.”]

Why we need a dress code

or Why you can’t wear a hat in school

There is something much more important at play within the dress code’s prohibition on hats. It is that we are holding ourselves to an external standard. The specific standard is not as important as the idea that such communal standards exist. They exist, and they put limits on some personal freedoms, (a heretical move in our cultural context).

The “no-hat rule” is particularly effective in teaching middle and lower high school students the vital lesson that some personal freedoms are subordinate to community standards. This norm runs contrary to the teen sub-culture. Propriety cannot be meaningfully taught where there is no tension between student sub-culture and the culture at large. If we were to restrict only coon-skin caps and platform shoes, the important lessons of propriety would remain unlearned.

Propriety is about submission to something bigger than oneself. This is difficult for some adolescents who can’t conceive of anything more important than themselves. The cultural worship of Freedom exacerbates this attitude. Conveniently, those that most need to learn the principles of propriety identify themselves by bucking most violently against the conventions of propriety.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”The ‘no-hat rule’ is particularly effective in teaching middle and lower high school students the vital lesson that some personal freedoms are subordinate to community standards. #dresscode #nohatsinschool” quote=”The ‘no-hat rule’ is particularly effective in teaching middle and lower high school students the vital lesson that some personal freedoms are subordinate to community standards.”]

Students who desperately want to wear their hats in class point out that some adults, too, wear hats indoors. Yes, there are some adults who, working outside all day, neglect to take their hat off when they come indoors. This is not the same thing as donning a hat for a day which will be spent entirely indoors. Other adults wear hats because they have not outgrown adolescent rebellion and/or believe that personal Freedom is ultimate. These are not a justification for students wearing hats; they are, rather, representative of the very idea we are trying to counter.

In the case of adults sporting caps indoors, it is appropriate to be gracious, but this is not a luxury we can extend to our students. We cannot turn a blind eye, for we bear the responsibility to move our students through adolescence and to challenge the supremacy of personal freedom.

Rituals of Submission

You can tell students things, and they might learn a little. You can show them something, and they will learn a little better. Students learn even better when they teach something. And better still if they do something. But they will learn best of all if they do something with regularity. In the morning ritual of getting dressed for school, students practice the idea that there are some things that are more important than personal freedom. They practice submitting to an authority external to the self.

We want students to grow into adults who understand that personal freedom is a good thing, but not The Ultimate Thing. Without a dress code, students are in danger of graduating with the idea that freedom is God. The lessons inherent in the dress code, not just the no-hat-rule, if learned well will lead to their flourishing, and that of society as well. A school with uniforms does not have the opportunity to teach this important lesson.

Most students have no problem with the dress code, and for those who do, the disagreement is usually the typical adolescent desire for personal freedom. By the time most students reach their last year of high school, they have little issue with the school’s limits on clothing freedoms. Perhaps this is because they have grown up a little, and no longer need to define themselves against authority figures, but it might also be a result of daily practice making decisions that balance personal freedom and social responsibility.

Was Paul a Jihadist?

April 15, 2018 / Trent / 0 Comments

I heard it a second time, “The apostle Paul was a jihadist.” He wasn’t really though, was he?

Before his conversion, Paul, then called Saul, persecuted Christians. In his own words, he says that he

persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it. I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age among my people and was extremely zealous for the traditions of my fathers. Galatians 1:13–14

Does this make him a jihadist? Does the term mean anyone who persecutes Christians? Or maybe those who do so for religious reasons?

In Arabic, the term means struggle. It might mean a struggle for a better Muslim society or a war defending the faith against unbelievers.

If we used the term correctly, I suppose we could say that Paul was as much a jihadist after his conversion, as he struggled to spread the Christian faith, as before it, in the defense of the Jewish one.

One of two conditions must be met in order to apply the term jihadist to anyone. First, the person must be a jihadist. Paul, a first century Jew can no more be a jihadist that Nero could be a Nazi. In researching for this post, I discovered that most Muslims don’t use the term jihadist to describe the radical, violent Islamist. Instead, they use a term similar to the word “deviant.” If this is the case, it would be inappropriate for Christians to use the term for a first century Jew who was persecuting the Christian faith. The second condition, you need to be an Arab speaking to Arabs–this way everyone knows what you mean.

If one of these two conditions are not met, then we end up using the term like Western politicians and media: generally and sensationally, to evoke fear and anger, to create unity through demonization.

I get it, we want to make the point that Paul was a really, really bad dude. But what’s wrong with simply saying he “persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it”?

If we are to be a light to the nations, it is really important for Christians to use language responsibly and to communicate with integrity.

12 Keys to Writing a Great Exam Composition

February 15, 2018 / Trent / 0 Comments

The view of an exam composition marker

Of course you want the highest mark possible on your exam composition.

I’ve been marking the BC English 12 provincial exam for many years—more than 20, I think. I just finished marking the composition for this year’s exam and I decided to write about it while my thoughts are still fresh.

The best way to get a 6 out of 6 on your composition on the English 12 exam is to be an excellent writer. Not everyone is an excellent writer. But there is much an average writer can do to give them a chance to earn the highest score of which they are capable.

Here are what I consider the 12 most important things to keep in mind when writing Part D: The Composition.

1. It’s all about conflict.

If you write a narrative, and I recommend that you seriously consider writing a narrative, focus on the conflict.

Don’t start your narrative with the alarm clock ringing. This is a very short composition, you don’t have time to lollygag–don’t write about life, write about conflict!

2. Don’t be like everyone else!

Markers read a lot of compositions—well over 700 per day. All have been written by English 12 students and are based on the same prompt. This can lead to a lot of “sameness”—same diction, same topics, same perspective, same approach, same structure. It feels like you are reading the same five essays, hour after hour, day after day.

It stands to reason, then, if you can write an exam composition that is not like all others, yours will stand out. Most of my 12 keys are about how to make your composition stand out, in a good way.

3. Go with your fifth idea.

If the composition prompt is, “Beauty can be found in simple things,” do not write about smiles, snowflakes, kittens, rainbows or babies. Everyone is writing about these things because they are the first things that pop into their minds. The solution is, don’t write about the first thing that pops into your mind—or the second. Get down your list. When you get to oatmeal, socks or the word “and”–you have arrived. I’m excited just thinking about an essay about the word “and.”

When the prompt was, “Surprises can make life more interesting” – over 90% were about surprise birthday parties. Because of the lack of surprises when they opened the exam book, markers were ready to jump off the buildings by the middle of the first afternoon.

Oh, and don’t think that you are original if you argue that surprises don’t make life more interesting—negation of the prompt is not clever, it’s cliché. Speaking of clichés . . .

4. Don’t use clichés.

No matter what the prompt is, markers can always count on frequent encounters with all of the following:

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”
“Life can throw you a curveball . . .”
“Life is a rollercoaster full of ups and downs.”
“Life can hit you like a tonne of bricks.”
“Life is like a box of chocolates . . . .” This one always includes the appropriate textual or parenthetical citation.

By using clichés, you are screaming to your reader that you are an average writer, at best. And you may be an average writer, there is nothing wrong with that, but there is no sense advertising it. And who knows, if you are deliberate about not using clichés, you just might infuse a bit of freshness that gives your exam composition a boost.

5. Don’t write about death.

It feels like at least a third of the compositions are about death. As markers, we are forced to vicariously experience the death of every family member in every possible combination from every possible disease. Then there are the accidents, usually car accidents. These often involve drunk driving and the loss of a best friend or lover. Markers don’t like death essays, not because it makes the process too difficult emotionally. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I am pretty sure that many English 12 teachers encourage their students to write a composition that is “emotionally engaging.” This is not bad advice, but when students hear the words “emotionally engaging” they instantly settle on the death of a loved one, because they can think of nothing else that produces stronger emotions than the death of a loved one.

This is probably true, but most high school students lack the skill to sensitively deal with topics like death. Consequently, these “death essays” become cliché, which is the opposite effect you are trying to achieve. Save writing about death for when you are a more experienced writer, and you have longer than an hour and a 600-word limit.

6. Don’t preach.

Nobody wants to be preached at. This is a “stance” issue. Readers don’t like to be talked down to. As a marker, I’ve been preached to about recycling and about how I should be Christian, and about why all religions are dumb. I’ve been told repeatedly that I need to be tolerant. I’m sick of lectures instructing me how to face the hardships of life and how I should respect the elderly. I now know what I should think about every issue imaginable.

You can still write about these things but take a different stance—write about when you discovered the importance of recycling. Or how faith adds meaning to your life. Write about a difficulty that you experienced and what you learned from it. See the difference? Rather than tell me what I should do and learn, talk about what you did and what you learned.

7. Have a strong first paragraph.

Many first paragraphs read like the students are warming up for the real task of writing the essay. They throw down their first thoughts on the subject searching for the point from which they can push off into the first paragraph of their composition. The warm-up or the search for a point of departure should happen someplace else. Write for a few minutes on a piece of scrap paper till you find your direction, then carefully craft the first paragraph to set up what is to come. The reader makes all sorts of judgments from the first lines of your composition; first impressions are powerful—make a good first impression.

I have found that many student compositions benefit from simply drawing a line through the first paragraph.

I’ve read compositions that use “the word” five times in the introduction. If the prompt tells you to write about beauty or surprises, challenges, maturity, change, dreams or relationships, consider not using that word in the essay at all. Or if you do use “the word,” use it in the last line of the composition. As with all creative writing, it is better to show than to tell.

8. Be Specific.

Generalities are boring.

This is true for everything you write be it an email, an essay or a narrative. Don’t say, “We went out for my favourite meal,” say, “We went out for chicken wings and Shirley Temples.” Don’t write, “My boyfriend pulled his car into the driveway”; have him pull up “in the family mini-van” or “his red convertible,” or his “1978 windowless van with the words ‘Refer Madness’ airbrushed on the side.” Specifics make a difference. If you don’t believe me, ask your father.

9. Don’t write a “5 paragraph essay.”

First of all, by the time you are in grade 12 you should never write a 5 paragraph essay (although there is nothing wrong with an essay of five paragraphs). The body of a 5 paragraph essay consists of 3 examples from your life that show the prompt to be true.

So if the topic is something like “Certain situations lead to maturity,” don’t write an essay in which you briefly and superficially discuss three of the following:

entry into kindergarten,
the magic of puberty,
your parents’ divorce,
a torn ACL,
getting a driver’s license,
your first job,
or first kiss,
the death of a loved one,
or moving to, or within, Canada.

Pick one of these (except the death of a loved one) and meaningfully explore the factors and forces that contributed to your maturation.

You understand, of course, that by adding or dropping a paragraph to the essay I’ve just described does not fix the problem.

10. Punctuation, spelling and capitalization, etc.

There’s no avoiding the fact that the mechanics of writing are important. The good news is that all of the writing on the exam is marked as a first draft, so if you misspell the odd word, or miss a comma or two, your mark will not go down.

So it doesn’t matter if I don’t know the difference between “then” and “than”? Or “there,” “their” and “they’re”?

Technically no, but no upper-level writer will ever confuse these words. So by confusing them, you are proclaiming, loudly, that you are not an upper-level writer.

Work hard to understand basic usage and punctuation rules.

As for spelling, two words that, for some reason, come up again and again in the composition essays are obstacle and opportunity. For years I’ve been telling my students to make sure they can spell these two words correctly—because “obsticle” and “oppertunity” scream out that you may not be a competent writer.

11. Be yourself.

You are not a 47-year-old drug addict living in Detroit.

You are not a soldier storming the beaches of Normandy.

You are not a mother deer concerned about your fawn.

Like death, this sort of writing requires a maturity of thought and style that most young writers don’t have.

The thing is, you are the preeminent expert on one subject–YOU. You know things about this topic that no one else does. Play to your strengths. Human beings, even markers, respond to stories–good stories, well told. I recommend that you walk into your exam with three stories, true stories. If it’s a true story, you can draw from an actual setting with actual characters doing actual things (and you can embellish a little). And don’t just tell me what happened, tell me what you thought and felt as well. But go even further–What did this event mean? How did it change you? You may never have thought about it, but think about it now. This type of essay is generally called a personal narrative. It involves a true story and some reflection about what the story means. Consider practicing these three stories beforehand. Then, when you see the prompt, adapt one of them to fit. Or write a brand new one if you are so inspired.

So, for these reasons, I strongly recommend you write a personal narrative for your exam composition.

12. “In Conclusion”

Don’t end the last paragraph of your exam composition with the words, “in conclusion.”

In conclusion, I must tell you that I’ve read papers that have ignored half of my 12 keys to writing a great composition and they still earned a 6 out of 6. They did so because the authors are great writers, but these 12 keys will give you your best chance at earning the highest mark of which you are capable.

I hope you read this post long before you take your exam–years preferably–because all of these things take practice. Good luck, and I look forward to reading your Composition.

Is there any other advice you give your students?

What else has your teacher suggested for writing the composition?

Truth is a Fad

February 6, 2018 / Trent / 0 Comments

On a recent trip to downtown Vancouver, my wife and I popped into Christ Church Cathedral on the corner of Georgia and Burrard. I find it hard to resist a cathedral and always try the doors to see if I can get a look inside. The door was unlocked and a pleasant woman offered to answer our questions. I asked about the beautiful interior and she was delighted to tell us about the recent renovations. There was even a photo album.

The original church was filled with local cedar, but in a previous renovation, the original wood had been covered. The red cedar ceiling had been covered by fiber-board. It was the same story with the floor. With this new renovation, the foul fiber-board and hideous carpeting had been removed and the original red and yellow cedar, covered up for decades is once again gracing parishioners and visitors with its beauty.

Why had the natural wood of the ceiling and floor been covered in the previous renovation? It seems preposterous that anyone could think that fiber-board and carpeting were an improvement on the natural cedar, but they apparently did.

Changing Fashions, Changing Ideas

This got me thinking about change, more specifically, changing tastes. It’s a truism that fashions change, but they don’t just change; they change radically–what is all the rage in one time, is hideous and vile in another age. This is true whether we are talking about clothing, church interiors or ideas.

The second truism is that we are completely aware of the first truism. We are somehow convinced that the way we think at the present moment is, at long last, the end of changing “truth”–with today’s thinking, we have arrived.

Previous generations had it wrong, but we have figured it out. As dumb as it seems now, there was a time when it was generally thought that wood ought to be covered by synthetic materials, and in fifty years the congregation will likely vote to cover the wood with synthetic polar bear fur. So goes fashion. So also go our ideas.

The Fashion of Truth

I look at some of the ideas that are spreading throughout culture, replacing the old ones, and I think they are beautiful changes. Others are more like ghastly fiberboard and anemic pink carpeting obscuring beautiful red and yellow cedar. And we take these new ways of thinking as absolute truth. Consequently, in our conversations and disagreements, we condemn those with whom we disagree as bigots and freaks and ogres. Given that our most recent truth is just a phase, perhaps we ought to be a little less certain about everything–a little less venomous.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”In our conversations and disagreements, we must remember that the way we think today, is a fad. Consequently, we ought to be a little less certain about everything–a little less venomous.” quote=”In our conversations and disagreements, we must remember that the way we think today, is a fad. Consequently, we ought to be a little less certain about everything–a little less venomous.”]

Doomed to Relativism?

I believe that there is something under the intellectual fads and whims of our culture that never changes. Core ideas like courage is better than cowardice and it’s evil to harm a child for one’s own pleasure and the ocean is sublime.

Just because it’s new and in fashion, doesn’t mean it’s objectively true. I say objectively because, although I’m not entirely sure which ideas are cedar and which are fiber-board, I firmly believe that there is an objective truth. We will continue down our slide of subjectivism for a time, we will continue to believe that we create our own reality, but I hope at some point we will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking. And rip up the pasty carpet to expose the rich wood beneath.

[click_to_tweet tweet=”We will continue down our slide of subjectivism for a time, but at some point, we will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking.” quote=”We will continue down our slide of subjectivism for a time, but at some point, we will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking.”]

Are students prepared for university?

February 4, 2018 / Trent / 0 Comments

Wokandapix / Pixabay

Education has changed. I’m teaching differently. Student’s are learning differently.

How well do the new approaches to learning and teaching prepare students for university?

Back in the Day

When I first started teaching Literature 12 there were provincial exams. These were content focussed. One of the purposes of the exam was to ensure students were prepared for the rigors of university. There was a prescribed reading list of over 40 literary works from the literary canon extending from Beowulf to a poem by Margaret Atwood. Students were also required to understand over 100 literary terms and devices. Back in those days, I did a lot of talking and students took copious notes.

Given that the exam scores would be used to rank students against other students, schools against other schools, teachers against other teachers, exam performance mattered a great deal on many levels.

So we worked very hard on exam preparation. Students created very detailed study sheets on each of the literary works on the prescribed reading list. These were collated into large packets and students spent hours reviewing this material. At the end of the process, they knew a lot, and my students generally did very well on the Provincial English Literature exam.

“Nowadays”

I still teach Lit 12, but I do so very differently. My class looks much more like a graduate seminar than a lecture hall. Students discuss and unpack the literary works, rather than listen to me tell them what they would notice if they were as smart as I was.

Through this dialogue, students analyze, synthesize, evaluate, propose, inquire, challenge, concede, admire and they connect the ideas they encounter to life and society. After we talk, we write. They use their laptops for this task. Sometimes they journal, other times they write an academic essay or a personal narrative; we mix it up.

My assessment has changed as well. We no longer end the year with an exam. We end the year with presentations–students explore a topic of their choice making connections literature, often beyond the material we worked over the course of the semester.

Are students today as knowledgeable as in the days of yore?

Last year, I dusted off an old provincial exam, one of the same exams for which I used to work so hard to prepare my students. We didn’t review the material in class–students didn’t create review sheets for each other, and they didn’t study for it. I passed it out one day and they wrote it.

I used to mark the Literature 12 exam, so the marks students got on this test were valid. I was surprised that their scores were significantly higher than those of students of similar ability from 2 decades ago. I realize this observation is anecdotal and does not meet the standards of a proper study, but I am convinced of the results.

My students know the literature better now than they did when learning was primarily focussed on content rather than projects and discussions. With the new approach to learning, students are performing better on exams designed to measure university preparedness.

The beauty is, they don’t just know the content–they have a much broader and deeper understanding of the literature than they used to. They can talk about it and bring it into dialogue with other artistic expressions and with life and society. They are better readers and thinkers and moviegoers. Almost all are reporting great success in university classes.

But not all reports are positive. One of my students excitedly entered her Literature course at the local university this fall and dropped it after only a few classes. It was clear to her that, in this particular university class, the study of her favourite high school subject would primarily involve transferring what she heard in a lecture onto an exam paper at the end of the term. There is no doubt in my mind that she could have passed this course with an A. Many of my less gifted students frequently do.

Do modern instructional techniques prepare students for university?

My little experiments show that if students are expected to know the material well, then they are well prepared for university. If their university courses will expect them to be able to analyze and synthesize information and concepts, they are ready. If they are expected to evaluate ideas; to challenge assumptions and be able to recognize a strong argument and concede, they are ready. If they are expected to communicate clearly and effectively, both verbally and in various written forms, they are ready and very well prepared for university.

If, on the other hand, they are expected to passively listen to a professor talk for hours, collecting information and transfer this information onto an examination paper at the end of the term, then perhaps my students are ill-prepared for university.

Does anyone really want me to change my approach to teaching literature?

[click_to_tweet tweet=”If students are expected to passively listen to a professor talk for hours, collecting information that will be transferred onto an examination paper, then students are ill-prepared for university.” quote=”If students are expected to passively listen to a professor talk for hours, collecting information that will be transferred onto an examination paper, then students are ill-prepared for university.”]

Why Tolkien?

December 16, 2017 / Trent / 3 Comments

A few pastors from my church are very wise and godly men; they are literate and literary, discerning and spiritually intuitive–then we have those who hosted this past week’s Extra Podcast.

I can forgive their derision of Star Wars fandom and the ridiculous claim that Episodes I-III are terrible–evidenced by writing like this. But I cannot tolerate a groundless ridicule of Tolkien.

Mocking those who know the difference between a dwarf and an elf is like mocking someone for reading a book without pictures.

This segment of the podcast was a celebration of ignorance. The host, who has read more Tolkien than the rest of the group, couldn’t get past the middle of The Two Towers. And then he derides those who are able to read beyond chapter six of the Silmarillion. It makes no sense to me why someone whose profession is grounded in the reading of texts would proclaim so loudly his inability to do so. He went on to characterize The Fellowship of the Ring as “one of one of the most boring reads you will ever have in your life.” This is the sort of reaction we usually get from people who think Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2012) was a good movie. I can only surmise that this host equates reading with the recognition of words on the page–a feat achieved by most second graders.

Did the other host really suggest that Tolkien was a troll? Motivated only by testing the limits of his future fans’ ability to digest his “drivel”!

In a pathetic attempt at concession, it was acknowledged that some might appreciate Tolkien for his “cultural impact” or his membership in a “Christiany” group called “The Foundlings.” One host allows that some might appreciate Tolkien’s work because there is “all sorts of biblical imagery.” It is a small step from being dismissive about the “biblical imagery” in Tolkien’s work, to being submissive of “biblical imagery” in the Bible–are we sure we want to take that step?

Then, the bombastic leader of this triumvirate asked why so many people who love J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, anathematize J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter Series.

Here’s my answer: To do so is indefensible.

Individualism and Individuality

Both the Harry Potter Series and The Lord of the Rings trilogy are in the same genre, both ought to be read for the same reasons.

In both stories, the protagonists are collaborative and interdependent. Harry Potter often contributes to victory over evil, but no more than Hermione, Ron, and any number of secondary characters who step up and do their part. In the climax of the final book, Harry does very little except willingly lay down his life for his friends. Neville Longbotton, it might be argued, does as much to defeat evil as the eponymous hero of the Harry Potter series. In Tolkien’s fictive world, one of the main characteristics of the Good is its movement toward fellowship, and that of Evil, toward fragmentation. The examples are plentiful. The fellowship begins with the hobbits, including a Baggins, a Took and a Brandybuck. Hobbits usually stick with their own; not their own species, but their own family group. But the mixing has only just begun. When the Fellowship of the Ring is created it includes, not only three types of hobbits, but a wizard, two men, an elf and a dwarf. Perhaps podcast hosts don’t know the difference, but the dwarves and elves certainly do–and they don’t like each other at all. Yet, in the context of The Fellowship, they become fast friends. Difference is celebrated and the fellowship enjoined. The mock-fellowship of the Ringwraiths is a fellowship of sameness a loss of individual identity.

Further, the forces of evil fragment. The Sauron has become a disembodied eye, and the emblem of Saruman is the white hand. Exposure to the Ring, the embodiment of evil, has separated Smeagol from himself–he has two identities, the other being Gollum. Is not this imaginative encounter with biblical truth at least as effective as a rational understanding? One of the reasons Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings ought to be read is that it counters our cultural individualism. I think this is a big deal. We need to counter the cultural narratives with which they are bombarded that proclaim the autonomous individual as the solution to every antagonist. In the case of individualism, these stories are countercultural in the same sense and direction that the church is, or ought to be.

Escape FROM Reality

A Challenge to Materialism

It is important to counter individualism, but even more vital to challenge the materialism that so dominates our culture.

By materialism, here, I do not mean consumerism, but the assumption that reality is comprised only of physical or material things.

Those under the spell of materialism slander these stories as being an “escape from reality.” Tolkien was familiar with the argument that escape through fantasy literature is harmful. His response to this charge is found in his essay “On Fairy Stories.” He accepts the term “escape,” but he says it is not an escape from reality, but an escape to reality. His argument is that we misunderstand reality, and in so doing, misunderstand the nature of escape. Materialists will certainly be threatened by fantasy literature, but those who believe in an “enchanted” reality, as do Christians, ought to embrace it. Those who feel compelled to mock Tolkien and authors like him, ought to take an honest look at their attitude to determine if they are possibly walking too deeply into materialist territory. If so, one of the best ways to recover enchantment and to escape materialism is to read the very books you mock.

Escape TO Reality

G. K. Chesterton reminds us that there is no such a thing as an ordinary thing. In a faerie story, we encounter a golden apple and this brings back to us the “forgotten moment,” and the ensuing thrill, when we first discovered that they were green. We come to see the creation, not as slavishly following a deterministic law, but joyfully producing green apples again and again, like a child who wants to be thrown into the air one more time. “Again . . . again . . . again.” It is not law, but “magic” that we find in creation. There is no wonder associated with law, but there always is with magic. It is because they ought to invoke our sense of wonder, that Chesterton can claim “[a] tree grows fruit because it is a magic tree. Water flows downhill because it is bewitched.”

So, Modern individualism and materialism are countered by Tolkien and Rowling. Tolkien also challenges modernism’s Myth of Progress. Out culture believes that we are progressing. Humanity is getting better and better. We have the mistaken idea that just as our technology, transportation, communication and medical advances are proof of this progress. These are indicators of certain kinds of progress, but just watching the evening news tells us that we are not making progress in some very important ways. In many respects, we are little different than when we lived in caves. We still lie, cheat, steal and kill. Tolkien’s world is an ancient world, and the men and women of ages past were better than we are today. If you read the Silmarillion, you learn of the great ancient race of men and women called the Numenorians, superior to modern men in every way. But they were proud, and this resulted in their downfall. This is the pattern of human beings–we can make and do some awesome things, but we never change morally–we always fall.

These are just the beginnings of a thousand reasons why, when asked, “What book would you want with you if you were stuck on a desert island, and you’re not allowed to say The Bible?” I would say, without hesitation, The Lord of the Rings.

We don’t get people to be less individualistic, less materialistic, less confident in progress, by telling them to stop being that way. In order to affect change, people need to be convinced at a level deeper than reason, deeper than emotion, deeper even than belief (where things like “worldview” live). We need to live out of a different story, and a transformed imagination. We have the Bible, we also have experience and tradition, but it is a foolish thing to read these with reason alone. Lewis would probably say that to look at these imaginatively is at least as important as exploring them rationally.

Let’s talk Glorfindal, who is apparently deserving of ridicule by one of our would-be, spiritual leaders. Contrary to the representation presented on the podcast, Glorfindal finds Frodo and his companions and rushes them along to Rivendell, taking breaks only for the exhausted hobbits. When they are set upon by Black Riders, Glorfindal sets Frodo aback his horse for a mad dash to Rivendell. When the Ford of Bruinen separates the exhausted Frodo, the Ringwraiths attempt to lure Frodo back to them. Frodo musters his last bit of strength and says, “You shall have neither the ring nor me.” Here we have, perhaps, the weakest representative of the forces of good, standing before nine of the top ten representatives of evil in Middle Earth. And he defies them. He defies them with confidence even though he has no clue that the river has been enchanted. For all he knows, they can walk through it as easily as he did, but he defies evil anyway. It’s not in his own power that Frodo is confident. The Ringwraiths have never read Romans. This is an inconsequential event in the story, yet, because of Tolkien’s genius, we can see such profound theology behind almost every act, or under every mushroom.

It seems to me, Tolkien’s work should be regularly referred to in sermons as we educate, not only the mind but also the imagination. And the Silmarillion ought to be one of the central resources for all Master’s of Divinity degrees.

Lest my readers misunderstand, this blog was written knowing full well that the hosts of the Extra Podcast were probably not serious in their ridicule of Tolkien or his admirers. However, if there is even the tiniest piece of sincerity in their critique of Tolkien, or in that of their listeners, I submit this rebuttal. And I recommend From Homer To Harry Potter: A Handbook on Myth and Fantasy (see link below) for further reading on this subject.

I couldn’t lose this one.

November 30, 2017 / Trent / 1 Comment

We are not addicted!

“We are not ADDICTED!” My students were upset. They didn’t like the tone of the article we just read. It was about the effects of continuous access to the internet and social media. For the author, the effects were mostly negative, especially on young people. When I said that the author might be right. That they were blind to how social media is programming them–I think I may have used the word “addiction”–they were indignant.

They wrote off the author and their teacher as being part of the older generation that didn’t understand the technology–we were, consequently, blind to the vast benefits of the internet and social media.

My Social Media Feeds

A few days later I read an article that popped up on Facebook called, ‘Our minds can be hijacked’: the tech insiders who fear a smartphone dystopia. In it Paul Lewis tells us that the people responsible for making Google, Twitter and Facebook so addictive are disconnecting themselves and their families from the internet. They are, apparently, even more concerned about the negative effects than I am.

Another article came across my desk through Twitter: “How a half-educated tech elite delivered us into chaos.” Here John Naughton argues that tech leaders know a lot about science, technology, engineering and math, but very little about the Humanities–and had they received a whole education–studied some Literature, History and Philosophy–they wouldn’t be surprised that their inventions have not taken us to the bright future they anticipated. They thought they were providing a beautiful link between producers and consumers for the benefit of all. Instead, we have ended up with “fake news and the weaponisation of social media.”

On my Facebook again, I came across the New York Times video called “How China is changing your internet.” It warns of an Orwellian future if we allow internet giants to go the way of China’s “Super Apps.” Since we have been reading Orwell, I thought I’d show this video in class.

Either Way, I Win

Perhaps I am too hard on the internet and social media. Perhaps I have been reading too many articles bashing these sacred cows, and not enough material from the other side. But if I am, it’s because the algorithms that run the social media platforms have are feeding me a steady diet from only one side of the argument. These constitute and reinforce my views and biases–they begin to shape my thinking.

Either my negative view of the internet and social media is accurate, or my inaccurate negative view has been shaped by the internet and social media.

Either way, I win.

I Invented Twitter in 1990

January 16, 2017 / Trent / 5 Comments

Most people think Twitter began in 2006, but a form of it existed in my grade 7 classroom long before that. I didn’t call it Twitter, I called it “Notion Notes.”

Early in my career, I was a grade seven teacher. Besides having fun learning all that Science and English, we also did fun things for their own sake. The kids loved it and so did I.

In it’s simplest form, a Notion Note is when students each write something on a little piece of paper, small enough it could hold more than 144 characters, and then I would read them out loud one by one.

The idea was that the students would play with words and ideas and there’d be some benefit from instant “publication.” Very quickly a whole bunch of rituals grew around this simple activity.

The paper must be newsprint, symbolizing the temporality of notions.
When a Notion Note had been created it must be folded once and held up between the middle and fore fingers until it was collected.
They were read from a seated position.
After each notion was read, it was torn four times and sprinkled from aloft into the large garbage can, again symbolizing the temporality of a notion.
Once a Notion Note was turned in, it belonged to the community rather than the author–one couldn’t publically state, “That one’s mine.”
If a Notion caught my fancy through originality, profundity, sincerity or wit, it was deemed a “Classic” and placed ceremoniously into my breast pocket. This is obviously correlative to the “favouriting” of Tweets.
At the end of the year, I would type up and post all of the classic notion notes of the year, and celebrate them. This is obviously pretty much the same thing as “re-tweeting.”

Students got into this. It became the goal to either get a laugh from their classmates or to get their notion note into that breast pocket and make the Classic list. They began to have a notion note page in their binder where they’d write down possible submissions. If they came across a quote while reading, they’d write it down. A funny idea or humourous question they had in response to something in Social Studies got written down too. Students also used Notion Notes as a way of disseminating famous quotes.

Notion Notes would sometimes talk directly to me, or interact with a Notion Note from the previous week. Sometimes they’d begin to develop themes over several weeks. These are like the reply option in Twitter.

Here are some classics from 1993:

I think zits are those little bugs that crawl in your underwear at night.

This pen doesn’t work.

If pencils had erasers on both ends, we’d get better grades.

Count to 5 . . . You are not 5 seconds older.

What’s the difference between a duck? Both of it’s legs are the same.

Author Unknown must be very talented.

Nobody notices what I do, until I don’t do it.

As the fish swims through the sea,/The bird swoops down and goes tweet.

There it was. The first tweet, staring me right in the face.

Too bad I was too short sighted to convert Notion Notes into an app–the problem was, no one knew about apps in 1990, and I missed my chance.

“I think” versus “I feel”

November 20, 2016 / Trent / 10 Comments

untitled I’ve noticed my students using “I feel” when expressing an opinion–they always used to say “I think.”

I’m a big fan of discussion in my classes–the kind where students read and annotate an article or paper, one that is difficult, but accessible with effort. Then they discuss the article, from the structure of its argument to its implications for living.

Since I don’t participate in these discussions, we hear a lot of student voices.

It was three years ago that I first heard a student say, “I feel” when expressing their opinion. I found it jarring–I still do and I don’t like it.

When researching this topic, I found several articles that make the distinction between “I think” and “I feel.” They say the determining factor for which you use is its persuasiveness. Use “I feel” when speaking to people who are more emotionally oriented and “I think” with those who are more cognitive. They claim that if your audience is primarily male, go with “I think”; “I feel” resonates more with women.

Perhaps I am naïve, but I am horrified by this instrumental approach to language.

“I think” expresses something different than “I feel.” And neither is the same as “I believe.”

“I think” means that you are expressing an opinion for which you think there are rational grounds.

I think “Arrival” is a profound and beautiful film.
I think that “I feel” is over-used.
I think ones Facebook feed is a very bad place to get ones news.

“I feel” doesn’t really have anything to do with opinions–you don’t feel opinions. “I feel” is about senses or emotions, intuitions or perceptions.

I feel cold.
You said “Fine,” but I feel like there is something wrong.
I feel uncomfortable being alone in the elevator with that man.
I feel good about the Seahawks’ chances in game against Philadelphia this afternoon.

“I believe” has to do with convictions–“I believe” often involves a great deal of rational thought, but there is acknowledgement that support for your position cannot be reduced to logic.

I believe that gratitude ought to be in the list of heavenly virtues.
I believe everyone ought to plant daffodils and tulips in November as a ritual of hope.
I believe zombies narratives have a prophetic role in our culture.

Feelings are a lot more important than they used to be.

Trust your feelings, Luke.

This sentiment is axiomatic in our culture. People believe that if they have strong feelings about something then it must be true or valid.

I don’t think they believe it yet, but the primacy of feelings is seeping into the way my students express themselves in classroom discussions.

Feelings are important, but they aren’t the same thing as thoughts.

I think when you think something you should say, “I think” whether or not it’s more persuasive.

Bad Theology in the “New” Doxology?

October 9, 2016 / Trent / 0 Comments

Praise 1 New doesn’t necessarily mean improved.

This is certainly the case for “The New Doxology” by Gateway Worship.

The first verse of the new one is the same as that of the old one, but they’ve added a chorus.

This recent fad of taking some of the greatest hymns of the Christian faith and adding a little ditty of a chorus, presumably, to make it more palatable to a contemporary audience, is not bad in itself (unless, of course, as the cynic in me wonders, it’s just a cash grab–to produce a popular song without having to go through the trouble of writing one). We like to sing choruses these days, so it’s fine to write one for the ol’ classics.

But at least make it a good one! By “good” I mean that it ought well crafted poetically and it should be Biblical.

This is where “The New Doxology” misses the mark. It has us singing bad, or at least weak, theology.

The original song, published in 1709 by Thomas Ken, emphasizes the extent of the praise that the Triune God deserves as the source of all blessings. It is a call for all “creatures . . . below” to praise him. Importantly, “creatures” doesn’t mean animals, but all things that were created. “Creatures here below” is the entire physical creation–which he called “very good.” The inclusion of the “heavenly hosts” in the injunction emphasizes that there is nothing that is not called to praise him who made it. The scope of this particular line is cosmic.

With man’s sin, everything fell, so the Fall is cosmic too. But God set into motion his plan to redeem everything–a Cosmic Redemption. Jesus said as much in Matthew 19:28, where he speaks of the “the renewal of all things.” In Colossians, Paul says that God will “reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven” (1:20). We see the consummation of this Biblical theme in Revelation 21:1, with the coming of the new heaven and the new earth. Genesis to Revelation point to a Cosmic Redemption–not just of human souls, but human bodies as well; not just of humans but of trees and mountains as well.

All this is packed into the old doxology. But to make the new doxology we’ve added this:

Praise God, praise God, praise God, Who saved my soul
Praise God, praise God, praise God from Whom all blessings flow

In the light of the original hymn, which talks of creation in it’s broadest possible sense, the new chorus speaks of redemption in it’s most limited sense–God is the saviour of a single soul. If it was a single believer, perhaps we could argue that, as we move from verse to chorus, we move from cosmic to individual. That’d be kind of cool, but this chorus is not talking about a whole believer, but a piece of him. The cosmic nature of God’s redemption has been reduced to a single human soul, simply so that we could use it as a rhyme for the word “flow.”

Christ Tomlin is up to much the same thing. He added a ditty to one of the greatest (and most popular) hymns of the faith, Amazing Grace. Besides the new bridge showing a complete lack of understanding of how metaphors are supposed to work (the line, “And like a flood His mercy reigns” is a mixed metaphor; floods don’t reign, kings do), he brought back the sixth verse of the song, which had been dropped from hymnals, presumably because of its theology.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow
The sun forbear to shine
But God, Who called me here below
Will be forever mine

Here again salvation is brought to the level of the individual; the rest of creation will “dissolve” and “forebear” to do what it was created to do. It seems to me, if God is only able to redeem human souls from all that he made and called “very good,” the devil will have won and “all creatures here below” can give up their praising, for they are all doomed.

The idea that God saves only human souls to live with him in a spiritual heaven is contradicted by the Bible. So where does this idea come from if not in the Bible? Plato. Plato believed that the physical world was distinct from and inferior to the rational world of Ideas. When Christianity interacted with Greek culture, the ideas of Plato became Christianized. The world of Ideals sounded a lot like heaven and we accepted the idea that physical and spiritual things are separate, and we took on the idea that the physical world is evil. These are Greek ideas, not Biblical ones.

To sing of “The God who saved my soul” we are in danger of reducing God to a mere saver of souls. Are we perpetuating the pagan idea that material things are not “good.” If so, we are reducing God’s concern, and consequently ours, from all things to just some things.

It was my impression, from listening to many sermons and podcasts of several different denominations, that the reductive “souls only” redemption was fading out. After all, we no longer sing the old hymns that promulgated the idea. But we’ve got song writers stepping in to mess up the theology of a new generation of Christians.

If the good folks at Gateway actually believe that Christ redemption is for individual human souls then my critique still stands for the chorus still contradicts the verse. For those congregations that believe in a cosmic redemption, please, let’s just use the “old” doxology, or write a chorus that represents the greatest of all blessings–Redemption–in its cosmic scope.

For more on this vision of holistic salvation: