My review of Mockingjay Part 1, now up at PSYCHO DRIVE IN. Click on the fabulous Jennifer Lawrence to go read:
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Friday, November 28, 2014
LOVERBOYS by Gilbert Hernandez-a review
My review of LOVERBOYS by Gilbert Hernandez, now up at Comics Bulletin. Click on the naked people to go:
Thursday, November 27, 2014
You might—poem
"You might" appeared in RATTLE #29 in 2008. It's my reply to Kim Addonizio's poem "The Matter."
(Joan Jett because she's awesome)
You might
Some women let
you feed them chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream spoonful by spoonful
Some women let
you brush their hair before going to bed
Some women seem
so terrified of contact you feel sad
Some women
wonder why you are so scared of contact
Some women like
to be alone, but not a lot
Some women have
good relationships with their mothers though I don’t know if they’re in the
majority
Some women
dress sexy then get mad when you want to fuck them
Some women just
laugh at you
Some women
write poems you want to fuck
Some women will
tell you stories while you masturbate even though they would rather you fuck
them
Some women will
fuck you
Some women seem
to decide whether they want to marry you or not in the first month
Some women get
confused when you don’t want to
Some women
don’t want children but will rarely admit it in public
Some women have
children alone because fuck it
Some women
don’t watch tv, but not a lot
Some women go
to movies alone, though not a lot
I don’t know
any woman who will go backpacking alone
Some women play
guitar or saxophone and you want to be with them just for that, even if they
have a history of insanity in their family
Some women eat
spaghetti with chopsticks
Some women
smoke pot daily
Some women talk
about writing screenplays
Some women
actually do
Some women
marry rich men because they think the men will be good providers
Some women even
tell themselves that they love these men
And when they
eventually divorce they marry other rich men for the same reason
And though some
women might marry men who earn less money, this causes problems
Some women
wanted to be vampires when they were girls
Some wanted to
be mermaids
Some wanted to
be catwomen with purple fur and tails
Some women act
more like girls than some girls, and versa vice, and both are more attractive
because of that though you’re not sure you want to be with either
Many women will
take any excuse to skinny-dip
Some women like
sex though many need some catching up to do
Some women have
more porn on their computers than you
Some women take
their clothes off for money, though these women are not recommended
Some women are
more attractive when they have a boyfriend or husband
Some women bake
pumpkin pies and carry them on the plane as a present when they visit you in
New York
Some women
sound relieved when you call and say you just can’t move to Seattle to be with
them
Some women keep
trying to interest you even after you have moved out, which hurts more than the
moving out
Some women have
been fucked (up) by their fathers and will never be right and it’s not your
fault though it maybe seems like it and feeling sorry for them is not a reason
to stay
Some women are
fine with being with you for the month you spend in Salamanca and won’t even
necessarily cry when you say goodbye in Madrid, though you might
Some women like
men
Some are scared
of men
Some seem to
feel both at the same time, which makes you feel weird
Some women will
wait for you to decide to get your life together, though not a lot, and not
forever anymore, if that was ever true
Some women are
right there, visible, with bruises
just like yours
Labels:
journal,
kim addonizio,
poem,
poetry,
rattle,
some women,
the matter,
women,
you might
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Sunday, November 23, 2014
My tattoo—poem
"My tattoo" appeared in the Huron River Review, in 2010.
My tattoo
She would be a woman of course
with long black hair
that would turn green with time
and smiling knowingly
though I don’t think anymore
that I would want her to have devil wings
or a pointed tail
She would still show some leg
and I think she should be clothed
though how I’m not sure—
perhaps a librarian?
or a mexican bandita?
or a flamenco dancer?
a dominatrix seems too obvious
She might be holding a book
but which?
War & Peace?
no, Anna Karenina!
in fact she could be
Anna!
in the ballroom scene
with the shoulderless black dress
but then she couldn’t be smiling knowingly
she would have to be smiling radiantly and sorrowfully
I had thought also she could be a gypsy
playing a violin
with large hoop earrings
and a red bandanna
or a pirate queen
or even Red Sonja
but not a cowgirl
though for the record cowgirls are sexy too
and I don’t know how she could be drawn as a wildland
firefighter
since green and yellow nomex isn’t that sexy
even if a woman’s face covered with dirt and ash is
I think though
that what’s important
is that other women enjoy her
and they don’t mind sharing me with her
and that in bed they would trace her curves with their
fingers
in the semi-darkness
calling her by name
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Balthus—poem
"Balthus" originally appeared in the The Pure No Nonsense No. 1, in 2007. Enjoy.
Balthus
I Les peintures de Balthus
In the paintings of Balthus
it is difficult to know
if the girls are asleep
or aroused
or dead
in the paintings of Balthus
the girls stare at mirrors
have cats
and seem unsure if they should be
ashamed
for letting someone look under
their skirts
in the paintings of Balthus
young girls read books
and play solitaire in sexual
positions
they seem unconscious of this
they seem lonely and bored
II La peintre
Painting does not mean
you understand what you see
the more you look at an object the
more
unfamiliar it becomes
declaring nothing
isolating what is most significant
a form of prayer
III La chambre
A girl naked on a couch
hair loose on her shoulders
arms and legs open in the window
sunlight
the curtain just opened by a
younger girl
who has none of her sister’s
curves
her face ugly and mannish
the face of the painter actually
and this is art isn’t it or isn’t
it
the part of us we put in
ugly though maybe interesting
yet there to reveal
though the motivation to do so
unreadable open to interpretation
jealousy hate desire
IV La leçon de guitare
Was the girl bad stubborn
did she not practice her scales
did she say who cares about guitar
anyway
and is the woman teacher angry
annoyed
this spoiled girl whose rich parents
pay for the lessons
while she earns extra money
teaching brats
taking the girl on her lap and
grabbing her hair
pushing the skirt up past her
navel
all smooth down to white knee
socks
the girl not seeming to struggle
except one hand pulling the
teacher’s dress open
she looks away refusing to
acknowledge anything
not even the hand gripping her
thigh
the guitar forgotten on the floor
V Nu au repos
The girl is wearing nothing but a
shirt
unbottoned opened lounging in a
chair
the shirt a man’s her skin grey
almost burnt
a foot crossed underneath the
other bare
leg and her body leaning to the
right
the room feels almost empty in the
light
that filters through the small
dirty window
her long dark hair still tucked
beneath the soft
white glowing shirt that she has
just put on
to keep her warm to rest nude girl
at rest
VI L’enfance
If we see sexuality in this
rendition of a pensive child, it is our problem. Of the way that the child
flashes her bare thighs at an alluring angle and flaunts her underwear-covered
labia, that’s how little girls sit. Where obscurity remains, it is the sort
that requires submission, not clarification. Little girls are familiar, a
universal theme. Additionally, they often dress in interesting ways. His
attraction to little girls was no deeper than that. If their knickers show, it
is because little girls often sit in a position in which their knickers show,
not because he was lusting for them or wanted his viewers to. This error should
not be seen as an innocent mistake. It was inspired by the human craving for
gossip, the same attractive motive that makes people act as if he has a thing
for little girls. There is after all, in the subject matter something that goes
beyond mere communication. The subject matter in emotional terms is manifestly
a matter of life and death to him. Reality, exactly. My childhood was
wonderful. I had a wonderful childhood.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
PunkRockPaperScissors—a review
My review of PunkRockPaperScissors, a collection of old punk/hardcore flyers from the 80s, which is really a historical document. And artistic! Click on Bad Brains to go!
Monday, November 17, 2014
Punta Concepción—short story
"Punta Concepción" appeared in BRIDGE literary magazine (now defunct) way back in 2005.
He
is staring at us on the ferry to Santa Rosalía. Jan doesn’t see him: she is
staring at the water, the waves off the bow. She points and says, “Dolphins!”
He
comes over to watch. He stands next to me. There are three dolphins. Sleek,
shining in the sun.
He
is next to me, our arms touch. I sigh and say, “Beautiful. Aren’t they
beautiful?” Jan turns to me smiling. She sees him. They look at each other.
It
is in class. No, it is before class. I am reading my Mexico travel book. She
sits next to me and asks me if I’m going to Mexico. I say I’m thinking about
it. She says she’s thinking about it too. She says maybe we could go together.
I
am noticing her now, for the first time. She sits in the back of the class, but
today she sits next to me. I am staring at her as the professor talks. She is
listening. He face changes when she disagrees. She has strong arms. I can tell
she runs.
He
says his name is Johnny. He says he’s driven down from Phoenix. We tell him,
Jan tells him, we are backpacking, traveling, exploring. He asks us where we
are from. Jan says she’s from California. I say I’m from Tucson, though really
I’m from Ohio. I want to be from California. We both go to the University of
Arizona in Tucson
We
talk. It is warm here, even in December. I want to see if there’s a point where
you can’t see land, where you can’t see Sonora or Baja. But I fall asleep next
to Jan on a bench. When I wake up we can see land to the west. I think we’re
early, that we’re making good time, but it takes us three more hours to get to
port.
John
says he has a truck. He’s going to find a deserted beach and camp out. He asks
us if we’d like come, or if he can give us a ride. Jan says yes, then looks at
me. She is telling me I should say yes, but she doesn’t have to tell me.
He
is handsome: Tall, thin, long hair and high cheek bones. I like his smile,
though he tries not to. He looks at us: I can see him looking. With two women
it’s harder for him to pretend he’s not. When he goes to buy us Cokes, Jan
elbows me and says, “He’s checking you out, Sheila.” I blush. She says, “It’s
ok, I’m not jealous.” She puts her hand on my thigh, she says, “Maybe a
little.”
Out
first night in Mexico, in Guaymas, we find a cheap hotel. La dueña is a large friendly woman. She is happy to see us
and tells us how pretty we are. She gives us a room with a double bed in the
back of the courtyard.
We
are tired and oily from the bus ride. It is dinner-time. We decide to shower
and go out to eat. Jan tells me to go first. She sits on the bed looking at our
travel book. I hesitate—I’ve never undressed in front of her. I don’t want her
to know I’m hesitating. I take off my shirt and jeans. She glances up at me. I
go into the bathroom.
When
I come out with a towel wrapped around me, she gets up and undresses. She has a
lean runner’s body. I ask her if she lifts weights. She says yes. I tell her
she has a nice body. She laughs.
The
ship docks. We wait for John in the parking lot. He has a blue Toyota pick-up,
with a white ‘camper shell’. He tells me it’s called a ‘camper shell’.
We
throw our backpacks in back. There are only two seats, so I sit on Jan’s lap.
She puts her arms around me, laughing. We pull onto the highway and head south.
Johnny says he wants to explore a place, a peninsula where the highway doesn’t
go, so there won’t be people with RVs.
Half-way
there, we stop in Mulegé for food. There’s a store that caters to americans and
even has cans of refried beans without lard, and fresh vegetables. Johnny is a
vegetarian too. Jan buys tequila.
Jan
and I go out for dinner. We walk along the main street of the town. There are
more people on the streets here. There are girls and boys, in separate groups,
staring and laughing at each other.
We
find a restaurant. After we order food, a man comes to our table. He asks in
broken english if we’re american. Jan tells him, in spanish, to go away. Vete. The man is surprised, but he does. He goes to the
bar and talks about us to his friends.
She
is stronger than I am. I couldn’t have told him to go away. I would have talked
to him. I tell her this and she laughs. She says on another time she might have
talked with him. She says maybe she would have gotten a free dinner out of it.
But, she says, this is our adventure and she wants to talk with me.
After
dinner we walk along the main street a bit. The boys whistle at us from their
cars. We go back to the hotel room.
I
undress. I wear a t-shirt and underwear to bed. Jan comes to bed naked. She
says, “I hope you don’t mind.” I say no.
We
lay next to each other. All the rooms of the hotel face into the courtyard. Jan
says, “Listen”. We can hear a couple having sex. We can hear the woman. Jan
says, “Sounds like she’s having a good time. Maybe when we get to Cabo...” I
ask her what she means. She says, “You know, maybe we’ll meet some hot guys.”
I
don’t say anything. I listen to her breathing get softer. Then she moves
closer. She says she’d cold. She puts her hand on my hair and tells me
goodnight. I say goodnight.
We
head south through hills with cactus and bushes that go right up to the edge of
the ocean. There are beaches filled with RVers. There are RVs lined along the
shore. Johnny finds the turn-off. We turn left, east. It’s a dirt road. Johnny
drives fast and I lean out the window. Jan turns up the mexican music on the
radio, with lots of accordian, which we all think is funny.
The
peninsula goes east, then curves north, creating a large bay. The road is
rough.
We
drive an hour, exploring. We find our beach. It is late afternoon, the sun is
out. Johnny stops the truck and we get out. Jan and I run to the water. She
takes off her shirt and stretches. She starts to take off the rest of her
clothes. I look back at Johnny walking toward us. He has his shirt off too. Jan
smiles at me. She says, “Come on Sheila. Let’s go skinny-dippping!” She runs
naked into the water and dives.
I
take off my clothes and run in. I dive.
The
water is cool, almost cold. Refreshing. I swim to Jan. She stands up; the water
is waist deep. She pulls her hair away from her face, glistening. She yells at
Johnny to come in. We look back at him. He takes off his clothes, down to his
underwear. I can see him hesitate, looking at us, looking at him. He takes his
underwear off and walks in slowly.
He
swims out to us and we stand together. We laugh about the desert, how it comes
right to the water here. We talk about Arizona. Jan dares us to swim out
furthur. We follow her till we can’t touch bottom. She lays on her back and
drifts. We all do, but I am scared. I swim back and Johnny comes with me.
We
come out on the beach and walk, naked, to the truck. Johnny opens up the back
and we get towels. Johnny says he’s glad he can enjoy this with two beautiful
women. I say we’re glad we can enjoy this with a beautiful man. I feel stupid,
obvious.
Jan
is waiting for us. We lay the towels out and lie down. She tells Johnny he
should lie between us, for balance. He is still nervous, not looking at us,
trying not to look. I’m not nervous. I stare at both of them. We talk but we
are sleepy. Johnny covers his eyes with his rolled up shirt. Jan smiles across
him at me and motions her chin down his body, to his cock. She mouths the
words: touch it.
I
shake my head. She shrugs, turns over on her stomach.
I
take a short nap. Jan and Johnny are still asleep. I get up and go back into
the water. I swim a little ways, lie on my back, drifting like Jan and stare at
the sky. I listen to the water. I think, there will always be this.
I
look back at the beach, she has him in her mouth. He says something. She lies
on her stomach again. He takes her that way. I watch them do it. I crouch in
the water up to my neck and watch them.
I
walk out of the water. Jan says, “Enjoy the show?” She says, “I hope you don’t
mind. I needed that.” She says, “I couldn’t wait.”
The
sun is going down. The sky is pink and orange. It cools. We put on our clothes.
We put on sweaters and jackets. Johnny sets up his tent. He says it’s small. He
lays down blankets and extra sleeping bag.
Jan
and I cut up vegetables and cheese for tacos. Johnny finds some small logs and
twigs for a small fire. He puts a can of beans on it to heat them. We take
turns on the tequila bottle. The stars come out. We can see the lights from the
RVers across the bay.
Johnny
tells us stories. He is a firefighter with the Forest Service. He tells us
about fire and about travel, Montana, Alaska. Jan asks if there are women on
the firefighting crews. He says yes, some. I wonder what they are like. Jan
says she would like to be a fire-fighter.
We
drink half the bottle of tequila. It’s time to sleep. Johnny says Jan and I can
sleep in the tent, he’ll sleep in his sleeping bag outside. Jan pouts. She
says, “I thought we could all squeeze in together.” Johnny looks at me. I nod.
Jan
and I get in first. Johnny finds more wood for the fire. When he comes into the
tent, Jan tells him to get in on the other side of me. I am in the middle.
It
is cold. We cuddle under the two sleeping bags. Jan and Johnny are on their
sides. I lie on my back. Jan pushes my shirt up and rubs my stomach. She leans
over and kisses Johnny. She tells him to kiss me. He kisses me. She says, “I
think Sheila’s been waiting for you to do that all day.” It’s true.
Johnny
pulls down my underwear. He puts my hand around his cock. I look at Jan. She
smiles, kisses me. Johnny moves between my legs. I say no, that I want him to
do it like he did it to Jan. I turn over. I turn my face to Jan. She lies next
to me while he does it. We kiss while he does it.
We
spend the day on the beach. We swim. We read. We talk. We touch each other.
Johnny uses his mouth on me. I want to do that to Jan. I taste her. She is
salty. Johnny watches us. He says he likes watching us. Then he and I do it
again.
He
goes for a walk. Jan and I kiss. We use our hands on each other. I fall asleep
on her shoulder.
We
spend another night. We have no more food and water. We talk about getting more
and coming back. We decide to go south, to Cabo.
We
are in Cabo. It is mid-afternoon. We are eating at a restaurant. We are talking
about what we will do. Jan says she wants to go dancing later. I want to go
dancing too. Johnny says no, he doesn’t like to dance. Jan says, “How can you
not like dancing?”
Johnny
shrugs. He says he’ll camp out again. He doesn’t like the city. There are lots
of rich American tourists. He tells us he’ll meet us tomorrow.
I
say we don’t have to go dancing. He says no, he doesn’t want to spoil our fun.
We’ll meet on the beach tomorrow. He kisses both of us. He kisses me first.
Jan
and I find a hotel near the center. We shower and put on fresh clothes. We go
out to a bar and drink and dance. Jan is a good dancer. It feels good to dance
and watch her dance.
Some
guys start to buy us drinks. We dance some more with them. There is one who
likes me and dances with me a lot. I don’t realize how drunk I am until I fall
on the dance floor and he catches me. Jan laughs and comes over and kisses me.
Which makes the guys yell. It’s silly, but exciting too, so she keeps doing it.
Then she takes off her shirt and everyone yells more and we keep dancing.
Then…
They
leave the next morning. They laugh quietly and I wake up and wonder why two
guys are leaving and wonder where I am and fall back asleep. I wake up late and
remember: It’s time to meet Johnny. I get dressed. I tell Jan to wake up. She
looks at me. I say I’ll meet her there. She says, “Don’t tell him.” She says,
“I knew you liked him.” She says,
“Sheila....”
I
run down to the public beach. There are Americans everywhere. I see Johnny.
He’s looking out at the sea. I touch him on his bare shoulder. He turns around.
I put my arms around his neck. I kiss him. I say, “Let’s go back.”
He
asks, to our bay, or Arizona?
I
say I don’t care.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Poem for Cat
"Poem for Cat" originally appeared in the lit zine Salonika in New York City, way back in 1999 (as "Poem for Nan")
poem for Cat
you were tall and strong like an amazon.
long runner’s legs
hands rough and calloused.
and your hair, pulling on it when I fucked you
you could out-hike most of the crew
and you looked good covered in ash and dirt.
pool games at the Timberline
you liked your vodka and beer, lots of beer
and me thinking of all those men you chose me.
days and weeks without touching you
listening to the guys talk
r&rs in Chico
poison oak and rubbing lotion into your legs
the woman we shared your roommate
end of fire season, roadtripping back east
desert hot springs at night,
hikes in Utah, Bryce Canyon in the snow
and the fights
and goodbye in Rochester
and goodbye in Chicago
and goodbye in Minneapolis
finally on the phone I asked
and you said yes
the whole summer with him too
I slammed the receiver down
tried to push you out of my life
but you are strong
without even trying
or wanting to try
you stay...
poem for Cat
you were tall and strong like an amazon.
long runner’s legs
hands rough and calloused.
and your hair, pulling on it when I fucked you
you could out-hike most of the crew
and you looked good covered in ash and dirt.
pool games at the Timberline
you liked your vodka and beer, lots of beer
and me thinking of all those men you chose me.
days and weeks without touching you
listening to the guys talk
r&rs in Chico
poison oak and rubbing lotion into your legs
the woman we shared your roommate
end of fire season, roadtripping back east
desert hot springs at night,
hikes in Utah, Bryce Canyon in the snow
and the fights
and goodbye in Rochester
and goodbye in Chicago
and goodbye in Minneapolis
finally on the phone I asked
and you said yes
the whole summer with him too
I slammed the receiver down
tried to push you out of my life
but you are strong
without even trying
or wanting to try
you stay...
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Maple Key Comics #2
My review of the Maple Key Comics #2, a new "comics magazine anthology" up now at COMICS BULLETIN. Click on weird dudes and birds to go:
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Ready Or Not—One Act Play
"Ready Or Not", a one act play, was published in Writing On The Edge in 2010, and performed at JCC in 2012. I'm putting it up here, for all to use, under the creative commons concept. Please just give me credit, and if you perform it, let me know! -John
The
stage is dark at first. Three bright ‘interrogation-like’ over lights come over
each of the of the three key stage positions: FRONT STAGE LEFT, FRONT STAGE
RIGHT, and STAGE CENTER
Positioned
at FRONT STAGE LEFT is JIN, an early-twenties Korean male. At first he appears
confident and not at all self-conscious about his English, though it’s not
perfect. He’s wearing typical American college student clothes: jeans and
hoodie. He has a backpack filled with folders, papers and books, plus his
computer. When he speaks he sometimes pauses, trying to find the right word.
At
FRONT STAGE RIGHT is 40ish writing TEACHER. Can be male or female, in either
case, stereotypical clothes of a university composition teacher: Glasses for
either. Male: Casual slacks (even jeans) but with a dress shirt and tie and
brown leather dress shoes. For female, casual but professional, long skirt and
dress blouse, with a jacket. Can verge from nerdy to classy in either case.
At
CENTER STAGE sits the COMMITTEE: Three people of any gender, in conservative
black suits, sitting behind a long table with neatly stacked folders filled
with papers, including a spiral bound ‘report’ titled Ready or Not in front of each that they may lift and
show for emphasis, though they remain seated and scarily calm, passionless,
during the conversation.
During
the play, the teacher is the only one who really responds to the others. Jin
may listen to questions from the teacher, but never seems to really be paying
attention. The committee members ignore the teacher completely, and never look
at Jin, even if they respond to something he says. Jin never even seems aware
of the committee. The whole ‘dialogue’ should sound fragmented and disjointed.
COM
1: The
committee helps prepare all young people for post-secondary education, work,
and citizenship.
COM
2: More
than 60 percent of employers question whether a typical student has learned
even the basics.
COM
3: The
committee is a bipartisan, non-profit organization that helps states raise
academic standards, improve assessments, and strengthens accountability.
TEACHER: Who
decides the accountability?
JIN: My
major is biology so I want to get a degree in USA and get into med school.
COM
2: Employers
cannot employ people who cannot articulate clearly.
TEACHER: I
can’t guarantee he will speak perfectly when he gets out of my class. But he’ll
be better. And he’ll have done some thinking. That’s got to be the most
important thing, right?
COM
3: Regardless
of a student’s major, the ability to formulate and analyze arguments, both
orally and in writing, is absolutely essential to academic success.
TEACHER: Ok,
that’s thinking. So we agree on some things. But creative thinking is valuable
too, right?
COM
1: We
can develop these skills at the postsecondary level, but students need to get a
solid foundation in these basics when they are in high school, or they will
fall behind quickly in college.
JIN: High
school, it’s kind of different from USA. We don’t focus on writing that much.
That’s kind of bad for me. I don’t even write in Korean that much, then I have
to write in English.
COM
1: The
diploma has lost its value because what it takes to earn one is disconnected
from what it takes for graduates to compete successfully beyond high school.
JIN: I
didn’t have to write essays in high school. In college, some reports, some
papers, but I didn’t take any comp classes. I think they have them but it
wasn’t required.
COM
2: Students
earn grades that cannot be compared from school to school and often are based
as much on effort as on the actual mastery of academic content.
TEACHER: Why
is that a bad thing? Who ever masters anything?
COM
3: Employers
cannot employ people who do not have the ability to read effectively.
JIN: Reading?
I feel comfortable. There are....it depends on the subject. I like science so
if I read science things, if it’s not really difficult. I’m comfortable. But
things like psychology, social science, I don’t like, I’m not...interested...so
it’s really hard to read.
COM
1: Working
to increase the number of students who are proficient without ensuring that
they also are prepared for the future
will undermine not only the intent of NCLB, but also support for the education
system itself.
TEACHER: Jin,
do you read for fun?
JIN: I
read comic books, doesn’t matter, English or Korean. But English and Korean
comics are different. I understand better in Korean than in English, so it
seems easier.
COM
2: Practice
in providing evidence from literary works to support an interpretation fosters
the skill of reading any text slowly and teaches students to think, speak, and
write logically—a priority skill identified by employers and postsecondary
faculty.
TEACHER: Only
logically?
COM
1: Employers
cannot employ people who do not have the ability to write effectively.
TEACHER: Ok,
I guess I agree with that....
COM
2: Students
should be able to organize ideas in writing with a thesis statement in the
introduction, well-constructed paragraphs, a conclusion and transition
sentences that connect paragraphs into a coherent whole.
COM
3: Students
should be able to write an academic essay. For example: A summary, an
explanation, a description, a literary analysis essay.
COM
1: These
essays should develop a thesis, create an organizing structure appropriate to
purpose, audience and context.
COM
2: They
should includes relevant information and exclude extraneous information.
COM
3: They
should make valid inferences.
COM
1: They
should support judgments with relevant and substantial evidence and well-chosen
details.
COM
2: And
provide a coherent conclusion.
JIN: Writing
is painful. Firstover, I don’t know what to write. I have no experience to
write. So and secondly, I haven’t write that much in my high school. I haven’t
written at lot in Korean. And third one is, I think that’s a language barrier.
I know how to say it in Korean but I don’t know how to say it in English.
TEACHER: We
can work on that. The more writing you do, the better you get. I mean, you
write in other genres outside of class, right?
JIN: I
don’t write outside of college at all. Text messaging, yeah, that kind of
thing. Email. I didn’t think that was writing, because writing, this word,
is...something sophisticated. It’s simple. And I think there’s a verb, like
when you text message, it’s a verb. Writing is...when you email you say emailed
him, when you use text message, I say I text messaged him. I just think of that
right now. It’s like a conversation, right? The reason why we text message is
to communicate....No, writing it communication too...but...I don’t know. I
don’t really like text-messaging.
COM
2: High-growth,
highly skilled jobs demand that employees can communicate essential information
effectively via email.
TEACHER: What
was your favorite writing experience?
JIN: My
favorite writing experiences?
Jin
thinks. The committee members check
their watches.
JIN: When
I was uh.....I think that’s the question I have to think a lot. Maybe two years
ago I attended conversation group and there was a TEOFL class and then I
practice writing in that class and I wrote about comparing TOEFL and the U of
M, they made this test so if you get this and get above a certain score, you
don’t have to take the TEOFL, so I wrote about this...topic, and then I think I
wrote well, so this teacher who taught was going to use my essay to let people
know that there is a supplement for TEOFL.
COM
1: These
skills are very difficult to assess on a paper-and-pencil test.
TEACHER: Exactly!
COM
2: Exit
exams are necessary parts of the system.
TEACHER: But
you just said—
COM
3: Exams
ensure that students meet a least a floor of performance, and they can provide
more credible and compelling evidence that students have met the standards.
TEACHER: But
he just described a complicated writing process. How do you assess something
like that with an exam?
JIN: I’m
not a writer. But, I could be a writer. If I, like I said, I have a three
reasons I won’t like writing: language barrier, and like that. If I fix them,
and experience a lot, then I could be a good writer.
TEACHER: Do
you consider yourself a writer in Korean?
JIN: In
Korean? No, I don’t think so. I mean I could be in both if I fixed those. It’s
kind of awkward, but my strength in writing is creative. I mean, it’s kind of,
strange...but when I get a prompt, like for an essay, I think differently, like
maybe that’s a language barrier, or I think differently.
TEACHER: That’s
fine! That’s good!
COM
1: Standards
and exams reflect a consensus among experts as to what would be desirable for
young people to learn.
COM
2: They
require that course content reflect the knowledge and skills required for
success in college and work.
COM
3: Unless
all students are regularly exposed to a challenging curriculum, they will forever
be playing catch-up.
TEACHER: We
all are catching up. That’s never going to change.
JIN: When
I write, I go, I just get off the track.
Note: All committee comments are taken from Ready or Not:
Creating a High School Diploma That Counts,
by the American Diploma Project.
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