practicum wrap-up update: pictures of old things!

Yes, friends, it’s been almost a week and I’m still riding the coattails of the high-on-life feeling that my secondary practicum gave me.  I could fill the month until my elementary placement with lengthy ruminations and fantastical daydreams that allow me to relive my time there, and I’m simply dragging out the blogging part of it so I don’t have to admit that it’s over.

Or perhaps I’ve occupied my time with packing my life up and returning to the big city for my sister’s baby shower, spending the weekend with family and reuniting with friends.  There’s even a slight possibility that one primary aim of this post is to distract my eyes from the still very full suitcases that adorn every nook and cranny of my apartment.

In any case, this post is, for me, a fond remembrance of the time warp that is my hometown.  I can’t help it: I love old things.  I am fascinated by the relics of how people did things before computers, what jobs people had before everything was outsourced to Mexico, and how tasks got accomplished before the advent of battery-operated devices.  In my highly romanticized vision of all things old-timey, everything is simple and earnest, with just a hint of whimsy.

In this regard, my hometown is a perfect time warp.  Sure, a lot of things have changed.  The bowling alley is now a Dollar General, and the gas pumps (finally) accept credit cards.  But so many aspects of the homeland are just as they’ve been since long before my time.

For example, there’s my favorite watering hole, where I stop to enjoy a ginger ale and converse with the bartender/owner:

(thanks to mr. yehl and facebook for the photo)

Yep, that picture is from 1926.  And, except for that big sign in the front, everything else about the building is pretty much the same… including some of the wallpaper, to be sure.

Then there’s the drug store.  I walked the three blocks across town to the the local drug store, in search of some index cards for a sweet lesson on plagiarism (more on that in a different entry).  What I found on their shelves indicated a rich history, spanning back before Microsoft Excel and iPods:

I wanted to take a few more snapshots, but the nice woman working was the mother of one of my classmates, and we got caught up in a wonderful conversation.  It was very small-town, old-timey blissful.

Of course, we can’t forget about the school, where I spent most of my days.  Where I could look out the back window and see the very field where my father performed regular feats of athleticism:

(thanks to mr. yehl and facebook for the photo)

My old man is number fifteen, and he looks like he’s about to make a line drive for the photographer.  Does that even make sense?  I don’t watch very much football.

However, I didn’t spend too much time looking out the back window, because I was busy honing my librarian skills… and digging through the back room, which was a treasure trove of artifacts from my youth: carousel slide projectors, overhead projectors, tape decks, and VCRs.

There were obscenely large LaserDisc remote controls:

And a large collection of vinyl, some of which I would admittedly love to have in my collection:

Not to mention the 35mm film strip projector, which I got to clean up and test on the unbelievable occasion of a special request:

It worked!  And it made me very happy, even though the special request was actually for a reel-to-reel (!).

As I was testing this, one of the middle school students poked his head in and asked me if that’s what I did all day.  I looked at him and said, “son, I perform a multitude of tasks for the betterment of your fine library media center.”

He rolled his eyes at me, then squinted at the projector.

“Have you ever even seen one of these?” I asked, recalling the many filmstrip presentations of my youth.

“Not in real life,” he responded.

I tried not to act aghast as I invited him over to check out the machine.  One of the strangest things about working with high schoolers is knowing that these people have never dreamed of owning a Walkman or gotten a paper cut from a using card catalog.  I was talking about this with one of the English teachers, and she mentioned how teaching Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart is becoming more difficult since it has less resonance with students as each year passes.  She pointed out to me that today’s tenth graders have no concept of the ticking of an analog clock, the strongest image in the story.

As I started to shed a tear in bitter sorrow, pining for the glory days of yore, I remembered that I’m way too young to be feeling so old.  So I decided that it’s a good thing for me to be so fascinated by these obsolete items from my past, because I can share that knowledge with the youngsters in the library.   Maybe they can see how simply things used to work and how far we’ve come, and they’ll understand that they can start somewhere simple, too.

Because that kid, who very clearly had no interest in being in the library that day, was intrigued by an outdated projector that none of his teachers had ever used.  Because he actually abandoned his apathy for five minutes as I showed him how it worked.

Because, as he left, he turned back to me and said, “you would be an awesome librarian.”

 

high school practicum: wrap-up introduction

Even though I can hardly summon the comprehension to begin to accept this fact, today was the last day of my high school practicum.  My initial plan was to post frequent updates of my triumphant return to the little town I grew up in, but it turns out that I’ve been having way too much fun with it to chronicle it all.

In between each of the past thirty-one nights I’ve spent on the den couch at my parents’ house, I’ve cautiously weighed the pros and cons of small town livin’.  You see, the librarian at my alma mater (under whose tutelage I’ve been working) is retiring at the end of next year.  From the moment I stepped in the front lobby on the first day, everyone stopped me in the halls to remind me that the position would be opening.  It was nice to know that I’d be welcome there, and it encouraged me to get even more out of my practicum.  Learning as much as I could about the school and library opened my mind to the possibilities of what I’ll be able to do with my librarianship.

Speaking of stepping in the front lobby on my first day, this is what greeted me:

That’s right- it’s a taxidermic wolverine, a constant reminder of the ferocity that these students exhibit in academics, athletics, music, and all other educational and extra-curricular endeavors.  Little did I know that the furry/deceased mascot in the school’s entrance would be my first glimpse into a pretty rad month.

One of the things that I love most about my program at Syracuse is that I am responsible for a pretty good chunk of my education.  Sure, it can be easy to miss a deadline or procrastinate beyond the legal time limit, but it also allows me to think about my progress and focus on the areas that I need to improve upon.  Going into my high school practicum, my big area for improvement was teaching.  I don’t have a problem with the whole public speaking thing, but it’s quite important to me that my lessons are informative, useful, and at least somewhat enjoyable for the students.  When I dropped the education degree track way back in undergrad, I let the teaching ship sail… and I was pretty nervous about bringing it back into the harbor.

Luckily, my host librarian was really great about letting me work on these skills.  She’s legendary for her collaboration efforts, so most of the time I was slated to be in the library had already been booked by various classes working on projects.  Over the course of my practicum, I executed lessons to three different classes (four sections of each), assisted with research projects for four or five other classes, and logged serious one-on-one instruction time with lots of other students.  It taught me a whole lot about pacing lessons, preparing activities, and how to interact with students.  For instance, did you know that most high school sophomores don’t know who John Hughes is?  That fact alone rendered two-thirds of my jokes unfunny because they didn’t get the cultural references.  Talk about a travesty.

When I packed up a month’s worth of my stuff and fled the city, life was a little scary.  I’d just finished up my last real graduate class, recently quit my job, and finally gotten back to seeing the people I cared about on a regular basis.  I was feeling a lot of trepidation about (temporarily) abandoning my life like that, but things clearly worked out for the best.  I had a blast, and it only further solidified how awesome being a librarian is going to be.

 

movie review: the lovely bones

I really don’t want to get into the habit of reviewing movies. Given that I stumble into a movie theater once or twice a year, I think you can all rest assured that this ill-informed cinematic musing will not become a regular thing of mine. But this time, in my opinion, is a worthy exception. The Lovely Bones came out on Friday. I loved the book. I love what the movie’s director, Peter Jackson, had done a few years back with a little book-turned-movie series called The Lord of the Rings. I love my mom, who offered to take me for my birthday. I love the moon, which was unmistakably in the seventh house.

So, friends, here is my first (and hopefully last) movie review. For those who haven’t read the book or seen the movie, there are no spoilers in this review. For those who have read/seen, please let me know how your reactions match mine.

quick synopsis

The story is told from the perspective of Susie Salmon.  Susie is a fourteen-year-old girl growing up in the 1970s.  Immediately after meeting Susie, she tells us that she has been murdered.  The subsequent story is Susie’s account of life after her death: her adjustment to the space in between heaven and earth, how her family and friends cope, how her killer covers his tracks, and how everyone (including Susie) seeks to move past such a horrific occurrence.

read the book before you see the movie.

This is a cardinal rule of mine.  I still haven’t seen Atonement, because the book doesn’t appeal to me at all. It’s also why I labored through Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (oh, the things I will do for Colin Firth).  If I watch the movie first, it stifles my imagination when I go back to the book, since I don’t get a chance to see it for myself.  Besides, one of the great things about seeing a movie adaptation of a book is comparing someone else’s vision with your own.

In this case, though, just pretend I don’t have the rule, that I’m not weirdly passionate about it, and that I’ve never said it before.  Now:

Read The Lovely Bones before you see the movie.

For me, this book was the indie band you’ve loved for years.  When you hear them on the radio, you get that bittersweet feeling of rooting for the band’s success and simultaneously accepting that your coveted secret is out.

I got the hardcover book four or five years ago.  When I pulled it off the shelf to reread it in anticipation of the film, I reveled in the torn pages and cracked spine that reminded me how many times I’ve passed it on to others.  In a world where Twilight dominates, I’m grateful to see a story with such depth reclaim some rightful popularity.

chronology

The narrative style of Alice Sebold’s book makes a rough transition onto the screen.  The novel does a great job transitioning between each character’s story, but it wasn’t as smooth in the film, particularly at the beginning.  For the first half hour or so, I wondered how those with no previous exposure to the story could possibly be following along or getting into the movie.  The mix between present and flashback was virtually indistinguishable, even though I knew from the book.

The awkward chronology picked up again at the end, and I had a very hard time figuring out how much time had passed in between scenes.  I only made it about halfway through my reread, so I don’t recall wether or not the book set the tone for this, but the timeline was a complete mystery to me.  It made for a truly frustrating distraction.

casting

Since the chronology was so bewildering, I can’t decide if casting of the younger characters is excusable.  I understand that Susie stays fourteen forever, while everyone else is subjected to the hideous task of aging (no, I’m not bitter about just turning twenty-five).  Considering each character independently of all others, the casting was great.  In the context of the entire story, though, Susie (played by Saoirse Ronan) seemed way too young.  For starters, her younger sister Lindsey (Rose McIver) looked like the eldest Salmon daughter.  I get this, though, because it sort of works to illustrate Susie’s eternal youth.

But then there’s Susie’s love interest, Ray Singh (Reece Ritchie).  The movie clearly states that she is fourteen, while he is a senior, which is a little strange to begin with.  I know, I know, age is just a number, and I readily admit to my own tendency toward old man crushes (irrefutable evidence of this), but let’s just take a look:

Susie Salmon (Saoirse Ronan)

Ray Singh (Reece Ritchie)

The actors are fifteen and twenty-three in real life (I’ll let you guess which is which), and the difference was really obvious to me.  It made me feel awkward.

The casting of the grownups was wonderful, fantastic, and all that other stuff.  Marky Mark is always a hit with me.

Then there was the murderer, George Harvey (played by Stanley Tucci):

George Harvey (Stanley Tucci)

Holy crap.  He was grood.  I mean… great.  And good.  Mission accomplished, Mr. Tucci: I had a serious case of the heebie-jeebies every time you appeared in the frame.

peter jackson

When my mother and I were making the thirty-five-minute drive back home from the movie theater, I said that I had much higher expectations from a Peter Jackson movie.

My mom replied, “I’m not familiar with his work.”

“Well, he made The Lord of the Rings movies.”

The car filled with the air of shock and disappointment as my mother realized why I was so expressively irritated.  Even though no one has any real concept of what heaven looks like, Jackson’s CGI direction was cheesy, ostentatious, and very obviously fake.  It’s people like Peter Jackson who have set the standard for animated graphics in films, and this was a pretty solid insult to that standard.  The time that he devoted to demonstrating his CGI afterlife was really detrimental to the pacing of the film, which dragged in a lot of places.

my verdict

I don’t get out much, so maybe this is what movies have become.  As we left the theater, the fifteen teenage girls in front of me were wiping tears from their eyes and talking about how great it was.  Perhaps they haven’t read the book (if this is the case, hopefully it inspired them to read it), but I was surprised to see that other people could get so into it.  Sure, it picked up a lot of steam at the end, but I really thought it should have been done better.  It wasn’t a terrible film, but when you consider the story, the director, and the cast… it really should have been better.

And to think, I saw this before I saw Where the Wild Things Are.

 

happy 101 award

I have had every intention of blogging about my month-long trip to the homeland to complete my high school practicum at my alma mater. Every day for the past week, I’ve kicked myself for putting it off. But something more pressing has found its way into my blogovision!

Much to my surprise, I have been given a Happy 101 Award by a classmate, future colleague, and bloggerista Amanda. I’m not sure of the origins of this award, but it’s turned me on to a lot of great blogs. Many of them, including one of Amanda’s, is focused on genealogy. I haven’t had much exposure to this type of blog, so it was really fascinating to check these out… so check them out!

The whole idea of this award is that, once someone gives it to you, you make a list of ten things that make you happy. Then, you pass the award on to ten of your favorite bloggers. Since I’m in no position to be turning down accolades, I will willingly comply with the rules.

Ten things that make me happy (in no particular order):
1. my pet bunny, bianca.
2. discovering just how much of my life in Rochester that I miss, now that I’m away.
3. this song, which I have recently rediscovered. The whole band makes me happy, in fact.
4. anything Apple. I know that this makes me sound materialistic and elitist, but I don’t care. This company’s products make my life easier, and that makes me happy.
5. thinking about how close I am to being a real librarian. I get so excited that I can feel it in my fingertips. I am very fortunate to have found a career that pleases me so.
6. a good chicken salad sandwich.
7. the design process, which I know very little about, from a technical perspective. I just like to look at something and think of all of the other somethings that went into making that one something.
8. singing, loud and proud, whether anyone’s around or not. I have no shame. I recently found a CD of cheesy love ballads that my little sister made for me. From this song to this one, I may or may not have ruptured a blood vessel.
9. a good cup of coffee. And by good, I mean big. Bottomless, if at all possible.
10. Chuck Taylors. I know they’re gaining popularity again, but they really are my favorite shoe of all time. I have yet to find another brand and/or style of shoe that makes my feet sing in this way.

Ten bloggers that make me happy (in no particular order):
1. Library Scenester: I’ve known this girl since my first library gig in undergrad. The level of cool that she brings to the profession was definitely a factor in my decision to become a librarian.
2. megwoog writing: One of my best friends, and an insanely talented poet. Speaking of things that make me happy, way up on the list is hearing her read poetry.
3. The Learning Librarian: This is one of my classmates from SU, who wrote primarily for the iSchool-sanctioned MLIS blog. She’s the one who we all envied for being so darn smart and wonderful. I never knew I could be so close to someone I’ve only met twice!
4. Bibliowhining: I stumbled upon this blog not too long ago on the MLIS RSS feed (acronyms, anyone?). I can’t wait to hear more from her, because she’s an entertaining writer and an impressive artist.
5. Journey into LIS: I first (and last) met Maureen during my weekend residency at SU last fall. She made me feel like a celebrity for about three seconds, before I got flustered and nerdy. Her updates always make me smile.
6. A Coqui in Winterfell: This is the personal blog of Ana, one of my classmates who is also from Rochester. She’s one of those classmates/friends who is a superhero and makes it look so easy.
7. Schoolmarm Style: Another superhero classmate/friend turned me on to this blog, and I think this woman is pretty rad. She’s mastered the balance between hip youngster (not to be confused with a young hipster) and a nerdy librarian. I strive to look this good, even though I’m pretty sure I fail miserably most of the time.
8. Matt, Liz, and Madeline: I know that he won’t respond to this, but Matt Logelin’s blog is fantastic. Check it out, fall in love, and donate some coin to his worthy cause.
9. The Pioneer Woman: Another one who won’t respond, but I’ve been following this blogger since before she became wildly famous. Her posts are entertaining, and her recipes make my guests (and my tummy) very happy.
10. Howie: I had to include her on this list, even though she hasn’t made it past her introductory post. I spent many, many evenings jerking lattes with this young woman, and you should keep an eye on her blog. I suspect that she’s headed for big things, and I hope that she remembers to chronicle them for us.

Thanks, Amanda, for passing this along to me… and helping to remind me just how much there is that makes me happy!

 

the power of social media

For the past few years, my siblings and I have opted to draw names for Christmas gifts. I’m not sure why it took us so long to come around to this practice, since apparently it’s pretty common. Besides, picking out one awesome present for one of my siblings is much more fun than hunting for six personalized gifts that fit my graduate student budget.

Not to mention that it cuts down on both shopping and wrapping time, which I am very much a proponent of.

This year, as we all sat around many pushed-together tables at Denny’s the morning after my sister’s wedding, I drew the name of my oldest brother. He’s generally pretty easy to buy for, but some time passed and he hadn’t provided any ideas. So, like the short little almost librarian that I am, I started researching.

I started perusing various websites of one of my brother’s favorite bands, No More Kings.  I checked out the group’s merchandise site, but worried that I would give him a duplicate album, DVD, or t-shirt.  As I contemplated my next move, I clicked aimlessly around the band’s Facebook page and MySpace profile.  When I snapped back to reality, I found myself on the lead singer’s Twitter page.

Since I have virtually no shame, I tweeted him.  I begged him to help me give my brother a rad Christmas.  You know, aside from the overwhelming joy of spending the holidays with me.  So I tweeted some guy in a band all the way across the country, laughed at myself, and started looking at some really sharp Cincinnati Bengals hats so that I would actually have a gift for my brother.

I was beyond astonished when this very cool band member responded to my whim of a tweet.  After a couple of emails, I made the point that he could send me any old thing he thought was worth my money, and I would be ecstatic.  This was the absolute truth, and I wish someone could have been with me to share the moment that the package arrived at my door.

From a little social media digging, one little tweet, and a single PayPal transaction, I had the motherload of all secret santa gifts:

See that thing in the middle?  On top of all the autographed merch, this amazing dude drew a picture of my brother.  This has less to do with social media and more to do with the fact that the lead singer of No More Kings is comprised primarily of awesome, but I don’t care.

Even after all this time, I still love making the whole social media defense.  It took me quite some time to warm up to the whole idea of Twitter, but I have officially been completely converted.  My Web 2.0 gift-giving experience warms the cockles of my heart, because it adds to my arsenal of positive and valuable uses for social media.  The real upside of this is that it really demonstrates how all of these crazy interweb tools bring us closer together, even when we’re sitting in the same living room on Christmas morning.  My brother was at least as pleased with his gift as I was- which says a lot-  and all because of one little tweet.