2010

The class of 2010 is obviously awesome. And no, my huge bias doesn't play into that statement at all... I have a number of friends who commenced at my college last weekend and two sisters who will finish high school and college (respectively) very soon. Unfortunately, simple living translates into no flying home over Memorial Day weekend for my sister's college commencement. It means no flying home to wave and cheer for the class behind me. It means I can't skip our closing Mass to be present as my youngest sister completes her career at the top high school in the nation.

Therefore, I only get to attend one graduation this year, and it belongs to the 8th graders I have taught since August. My 8th grade class was given a smile and a wave as we transitioned from one public school to the next. From the way these kids, their family, and the school culture treats this graduation, one would think that they were graduating high school. The very name graduation was a misnomer, but that, in the internal culture of the school, is what it was.

Friday marked the 8th graders' last day of school. In my favorite part of their graduation exercises, they burst onto the playground for the last half hour of the day with water balloons and cups of water to douse the 7th grade. The seventh graders scattered, screaming, to hide behind teachers and in buildings. The 8th grade had the clear advantage : they are 24, as opposed to 13.

Saturday, yesterday, we held the graduation ceremony. One of the parishes with which we are affiliated is located about 2 minutes up the road, so we gathered there. The 8th graders had caps and gowns (royal blue for boys, silver for girls). While these are school colors, I disapprove of the silver; it was not the best color on these girls. They processed in at the beginning of Mass, a feat which they had practiced amply and executed with minor silliness and no disaster.

But putting mortar boards and shapeless gowns on 14 year olds does nothing to change who they are. So after the walking in, which they had practiced amply, they went back to being their normal selves, just in funny outfits. Since the faculty processed in too (which I didn't find out until basically when we were walking), I had a front and center seat to see them chatting with each other and fidgeting with their 2010 stoles.

I also had a front and center seat for the more beautiful moments. For example, when the principal called the honor roll, he read one name that no one expected to hear, least of all the girl to whom it belonged. Her face registered, shock, surprise, delight, and disbelief, all compete and equal.

When the valedictorian stood up to give his address, I could see his face clearly as well. This kid is a basketball star, a straight-A student, as genuine of a nice guy as you can come by at our school, and has all the confidence of knowing it. He regularly speaks up in class and on behalf of his class. So the idea of giving a speech didn't seem to phase him -- until he stood up in front of the huge crowd. His nerves were written all over his face as he stared out at them and started his address. His first words didn't come from his paper : "I'm really nervous; this's lots of people..."

Then the principal handed out the diplomas. In a class of 24, that's not too painful. And it hit me that although a middle school graduation might seem ridiculous to me, it means something here. Kids in this demographic statistically end up high school drop-outs or flunk outs. They get in trouble on the streets and land in jail before they graduate high school. But as of today, in this moment, in this here-and-now these 24 are on the right track, heading into high schools, looking to become something more than statistics.

And that means something.

Opening Day

Today was opening day for the Farmer's Market where we sell the gourmet dog treats I blogged about a while ago. Remember Louise and our business? We haven't gotten into boutiques or high schools yet (long story) but we do have a tent at this farmer's market.

Although I did not need to be there, I went to the tent today. Louise is there every week with a student to represent the team. Normally, due to Archdiocesan policies, I'll need to be at the booth with Louise, but today another volunteer staffed it -- because the 8th graders were graduating this afternoon. However, I wouldn't miss the first day of something like this event. Besides, Louise and a Farmer's Market can be very intimidating, and I wanted to be there for Jaydin. He just joined our team and is the youngest; we need a future, after all.

My favorite part of the morning was watching Jaydin get a feel for the selling. He was obviously out of his element behind a sales table, targeting upper-middle class women. Despite this fact, he didn't miss a beat. My boss had trained the entire team on salesmanship on Friday, so he had some idea of what he should be doing. Louise and I prompted him every now and then -- when a potential patron walked up to the table, we'd give him a lead-in. Louise would turn to the customer and say, "Jaydin will tell you about the dog bones." I would focus on him : a slight tap forward on the shoulder, or "go ahead."

He held himself with the awkwardness of a confident person who knows he is in above his head. The awkwardness evolved as he got positive responses from customers and made a few sales, for which Louise and I congratulated him profusely. Jaydin's a natural marketer. He played up our fun shapes (squirrels and rabbits) because he had been around Louise enough to hear her tout their importance. He did not hesitate (as I would have) to go greet people walking dogs as they entered the Farmer's Market.

My favorite sale of the day didn't actually happen. A cute little girl, a thin energetic girl with a sprained wrist, who was about Jaydin's age, came up and obviously loved the dog treats. She went running off for her mother, who unfortunately said no.

In future weeks, older students will staff our booth and I'll stay there longer. Supposedly the market will get more crowded and we'll sell even more. While I hope to make lots of money, I saw today how valuable a learning experience it could be for the students working the booth. I can't wait for my 8th graders to take on the challenge!

Film and Literature Class

I mentioned at the beginning of the school year that I had broken down and read Twilight. Remember that rant? Well, now I have come in a full circle. For the "Film and Literature" class Ana and I are teaching (a glorified excuse to watch movies an hour a week), we are treating the girls in the class to Twilight.

The kids are hilarious movie companions. They don't sit quietly through movies and their chatter adds a soundtrack that I love. It brought race to a forefront that it doesn't normally have at school. In case you haven't seen the film, the main characters are pasty-pale, one because her skin is that white, the rest because they are vampires. My girls kept asking, "Why are they so pale? Why is he so pale? Why is she so pale?" After the first ten minutes of this, the seventh grade teacher and I both burst out, "Because they're white! White people get that way when there's no sun!"

Along a similar line, they are all in the Jacob (long-haired, Native American werewolf) fan club, rather than the Edward (carefully put-together, pale vampire) fan club. In general, they hold Edward in confused disdain; he is the hero and Bella loves him, but he is too pretty, pale, soft-spoken, controlled. Unlike the book, he has a subtle sense of humor that my girls were not perceptive enough to appreciate, so his character must have seemed bland.

Especially interesting to me, the girls do not like the relationship between Edward and Bella. Having taught in their school for a year now, I have seen their life decisions... which are on par for middle school life decisions from their particular demographic. But they see so clearly, more clearly than people from my own demographic, the destructive nature of Edward and Bella's relationship. They think Bella is stupid for staying with him. Which is likely true.

In case you are considering watching the film, I find it a vast improvement over the book. It gets out of Bella's head, which helps alleviate the melodrama that irked me. Furthermore, some of my problems with the Edward-Bella relationship are resolved. Edward has more personality, including a sort of dry humor and appreciation of irony. He also is not as peremptory and controlling as his novel character is. I can see the couple as equals, rather than the parent-child feel I got from the book. They also are delightfully high-schoolish at times, as a couple of seventeen year olds should be.

In addition, the film had to cut out much of the book to fit the story into two hours. Finally, I don't get as tired of close-ups on people's faces as I do of the words "smoldering eyes." However, I have heard from people who have not read the book that the film is a bit confusing, and a few clarifying details did get left out. Still, New Moon is likely on my horizon.

An Old One

An old xkcd, but one I thought you deserve to see:

Heroes

One of my friends who is a seminarian shared this article with me in the Washington Post. It discusses Catholic seminarians, always a fun topic; specifically, it covers briefly the idea of being a seminarian in light of the priest sex abuse scandals.

As you read, look for the quote by Matt Rolling. It made my night. Other than that, I won't comment much on the article, since it's a longer read than most of my posts.

Gives Me Hope 58615

Today, Google Reader streamed this Gives Me Hope to my window:

Today, I was at the mall with two of my friends.

Suddenly, we saw a mother, who was about 16, with her child. One of my friends started talking about how much of a whore she must be.

Then, my other friend said, "Don't make fun of her. My mom had me when she was 16 due to rape."

My friend immediately stopped. My friend's mom GMH.

As a pro-life person, I believe that we need to combat the stigma our society places on young and unwed motherhood. As a Catholic person, I understand the dilemma this proposition creates for religious and morally conservative pro-lifers. After all, pre-marital sex is morally wrong, and as a Catholic, I cannot, in conscience, condone it. However, no one should be driven to take the life of her child because she hates that people in the mall -- and people who supposedly love her -- will see her and talk about "how much of a whore she must be."

The potential for pregnancy creates a unique situation for a woman, whether she has consensual sex or is raped. The consequences of the action will be written on her body in a way that she cannot hide. No sin that I can think of (please let me know, dear readers, if you can think of any) is made so inexorably public as premarital sex that creates a child.

This fact does not make the sin any more grave than other sins which people might commit; her sin is merely no longer private. Even if she gives into temptation only once, she receives a worse part from society than people who have habitual and private sins. Indeed, the societal stigma doesn't come from the fact that the woman was sexually active, but from her pregnancy. The shame is not for the action, but for the consequence.

It doesn't help that right now, women bear the bulk of the responsibility for contraception. We fought so hard in the '60s and '70s for contraception as a mark of equality. Now that "victory" continues to reinforce the idea that a woman has sole responsibility for her pregnancy. Never mind that a man had to help her out there -- the sign of his sin is not on his body. No, it is written on the body of the woman. Even in the case of rape, where the woman bears no part in the moral wrong, the consequence falls on her body.

I believe arguments similar to this one have been used by those in favor of legal abortion : the woman has an unfair burden and to reach equality, we must take that burden off of her. Give her an eraser, to un-write the mark upon her body.

The problem is that pregnancy is not merely a pencil mark, and abortion does not "erase" it. Pregnancy is the existence of life and abortion kills that. That's the simple, "pro-life" answer.

The other problem is that legalized abortion does nothing to change the unfair stigma on women; it merely provides society another way to pretend it does not have this prejudice. If women can hide the fact that pregnancy comes from intercourse, society can pretend that it does not and continue to judge women who defy that lie.

Rather than hiding pregnant women and young mothers, we should support them. Again, I realize this course of action may seem tricky for pro-lifers who cannot, in good conscience, condone a sin. Providing help to a woman who needs support through her pregnancy does not condone any action other than compassion. The mark of a Christian is love, not condemnation.