Letters from Lisa

I just started reading a really neat book called Counterculture Through The Ages, which covers countercultural movements starting with Socrates and proceeding all the way through the 1990s. I really like the broad view of non-mainstream groups that goes beyond sex and drugs and artists.

The basic premise of the book is that throughout history, there have been movements of people advocating for greater individuality, free communication, and expression of an authentic self. Sometimes the movements are religious in nature; the prologue of the book discusses the biblical Abraham, who left his home culture to move to the desert and start a new tribal religion, inspiring an entire religious-cultural group whose identity has always been wrapped up in subcultural identity and political dissidence. Other times countercultures are born in artistic expression or science or philosophy.

I’m looking forward to getting to know some of these free thinkers and experimenters in a different light. It’s encouraging to know that people who were once scorned as too weird, too “liberal”, too outside the mainstream, can now be appreciated as visionary. Makes me wonder who will be the Socrates or Thoreau of our time, and to what extent our country’s current fear-based conservatism will go to stamp the light out.

I’m beaming tonight - I participated in a reading sponsored by my writing space, Paragraph. It’s where I go when I want to really concentrate. They’ve got comfortable cubicles in a quiet, relaxing writing space, great tea, and wireless internet. And I keep meaning to check out their book collection!

The event tonight was at KGB Bar, which is this funky little bar sort of hidden on E. 4th street. The building doesn’t pop out at you at all, and you have to go up a few flights of steps, past a small theater area, to get to the bar itself. I liked that, since I knew that the audience was going to be folks who wanted to hear the reading! The bar has a very cool, “Back in the USSR” atmosphere - literally. It’s painted deep Soviet red and is filled with Communist memorabilia, including framed portraits of Lenin et al. Apparently the space was originally owned by socialist Ukranian immigrants who hid all their paraphernalia in the little room above the ground floor so that they wouldn’t be tracked down by McCarthyites. It was a little dark when we first walked in - I was worried about having enough light to see what I was reading! - but then candles were lit, and the room filled with people and music, and I began to relax.

The first two readers, Rynn and Kate, both had selections of poetry. It was amazing to watch Rynn. She read some work from her current book, as well as two poems that she wrote just this week - “Obviously I’m feeling comfortable!” she joked. Some people just exude sincerity and connection to their work, and she is one of them. She was poised, but open and vulnerable to her subject matter, which was both simple and everyday and very deep. My personal favorite was the poem about taking her children to Disney World, which talked at length about the moving metal platforms at Union Square. It always amazes me how confident people are about the platform coming out to greet them as they rush off - I, and everyone else in the room, chuckled at that.

Kate read next. They mentioned that she went to Brown also - I meant to ask her what year she was, but never got the chance! Her first poem was a series about Cheyenne, Wyoming and cleverly moved around the subject of love and loss while grounding it to that specific place. Throughout she was composed and clear, even when the poems delved into very intimate subjects. Very impressive!

We took a short break for getting drinks and such, which was a relief to me because I wanted there to be a bit of distance before I started. After all, I wasn’t reading poetry, but a short excerpt from the memoir about Australia that I’ve been poking at here and there. My selection was decidedly lighter, and I didn’t want to have to yank the audience onto a different pace. When everyone sat down again, I felt like I was getting a fresh start. That was great.

I read my little bit about turtle jumping, which got a few chuckles here and there. Heather, who was on the expedition with me, was laughing at the references because she knew all the people firsthand and remembered the incidents I was describing. (Great to stack the audience a bit!) At the end, I showed everyone the “Elite Turtle Jumping Squadron” shirt that Heather silkscreened. I really earned that shirt! Maybe not the “elite” part. When I can throw the boat into neutral and dive off the side like Ian did, then I’ll be “elite”!

All in all, it was a fun evening and really great for me to share a little bit of my experience with an audience. And my parents even came! Isn’t that cute? One of these days I’ll have to get them a tour of the writing space.

Here’s the description of the event on Paragraph’s website:

Paragraph hosts the second in a reading series that features the writing of its members. Join us for some inspired poetry and fiction by Rynn Williams, Kate Angus and Lisa Fischler . Located at KGB Bar on East 4th Street (just off 2nd Ave). Free and open to the public.

Rynn Williams’s collection, Adonis Garage, was the recipient of the 2004 Prairie Schooner Book Award for Poetry, and was published in the fall of 2005 by the University of Nebraska Press. Her poems have appeared in The Nation, Field, The Massachusetts Review, and Puerto del Sol, among other magazines. The recipient of a fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts, she is a tutor in creative writing in the McGhee Division of New York University, and she lives in Brooklyn.

Kate Angus’ work has appeared in Albatross, California Quarterly and on Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood.com among other places. She graduated from Brown University and teaches poetry and prose at Interlochen Center for the Arts in the summer and English and American Literature at Notre Dame High School during the year.

When not wandering in the wilderness of Australia, Lisa Fischler tames the outback of the 10-year old mind as a special education teacher. She has completed a children’s novel and is currently working on a fantasy trilogy. Her Australian experiences form the basis of her memoir-in-progress, tentatively titled The Turtle Whisperer.

Date: Friday, Febuary 24th, 2006 at 7:00 PM
Location: KGB Bar, 85 East 4th Street

When we went to the Pacific coast, I developed an interest in getting some taffy. But since we didn’t, my sister’s boyfriend decided we should make some ourselves. And… we tried.

We also went to the Oregon Zoo in freezing temperatures. That is why my dad looks so happy to be standing next to a stuffed bear.

Graham, my sister, me, and my mom all posing.

Here’s a random one of me in my sister’s place.

Most of the pictures we took were in my sister’s apartment, and most of those were of her new cat, Satsuma. A satsuma is a type of citrus fruit, so you can see why the cat got that name from the shelter. She was a stray who was nursed back to health by a foster family, and she is pretty friendly to people. This is the first cat in our immediate family, since my father is allergic and our building doesn’t really allow pets out of tanks anyway. I always thought I would want a dog, but now I know a lot of people with cats, and very neat cats at that. So who knows. I know some great dogs, too… Maybe I’ll just stick with tortoises.

Well, we’re back! I would tell you all about our lovely trip home through wind and rain and numerous silly delays (thanks, JetBlue), except I have to go plunk myself in a tub of steaming hot water right now.

More later.

Spent a lovely few days in the Pacific Northwest with my sister. We flew Jet Blue over, which turned out to be kind of a problem because Jet Blue appears to be run by disgruntled frat boys who address all the customers as “you guys” and never seem to know what the plane is doing. We spent many hours strolling the lovely shops and overpriced restaurants of JFK airport because all the airlines were running behind due to strong winds. We finally boarded the flight several hours late, stopped halfway to refuel in Minneapolis, and landed in Portland at about 4 am East Coast time. Luckily we were staying close by. I was definitely not at my most effervescent or cheerful during this trip. Though I must say it STILL beats traveling for 24 hours straight to get to Australia. That was me at my most openly miserable!

Our first day was spent combing through the many shelves at Powell’s in Portland (a dangerous dangerous place, and I only bought five books there, which I consider to be a remarkable showing of restraint) then shopping for gloves to buffer me against the 20 degree weather. One particularly helpful employee at a store pointed out to me that no one is selling gloves at this point, since “we only sell those during winter”. Because February 17th? That’s definitely not winter. Come back in August. Maybe she thought she was in Australia or something. I couldn’t find warm weather clothes there during their winter, either. I guess it is department store policy to never have items in stock that people actually need at that moment. Gotta keep the consumer looking ahead!

You know where I ended up buying gloves? The Oregon Zoo. They have a great gift shop, including souvenir t-shirts that say, “What happens at the zoo, stays at the zoo.” After visiting the primate house, I have to say - I hope they’re right.

Distracted by my sister’s cat swatting at a plastic bag and tearing around the apartment chasing her toys. She loves dice. She’s very cute. Distracting, but cute.

On Sunday we drove to the coast and spent the day walking along the beach, picking up interesting stones and watching people’s dogs cavort around. Dogs are so good at enjoying themselves - I envy them. It was a whopping 48 degrees and I was so inspired by the sudden summer weather that I got my feet wet in the ocean. Which would have been much more pleasant if I’d remembered to take my boots off first. No matter, I’m used to getting my clothes wet in the Pacific. Later we drove around to some glassblowing studios and watched demonstrations, and attempted unsuccessfully to find saltwater taffy. I am completely pigging out on this trip, between the hotel buffet breakfasts and the restaurants and my mother’s penchant for carrying ziplock baggies of snacks everywhere we go.

Today’s been quiet - more overeating and some quality time hanging out at my sister’s apartment. They’re out running errands right now, and the cat’s stopped flicking the bag across the floor. We’re departing for home tonight - the flight doesn’t even leave until midnight, West Coast time. I am never allowing my parents to book flights for me again!

So, time for a pre-emptive nap.

I’m leaving for Oregon to visit my sister for the next few days.
As soon as I get up off the chair, that is.
Why is nothing happening?
Legs - move - now!!

Still coughing after all these days. As long as I don’t develop bronchitis, I’ll be happy.

I had bronchitis back in college once - right around finals period. I was taking an extra class and (naturally) everything for a grade, not pass-fail. Funny how philosophically I loved my college’s option to take everything pass-fail, but only took a very small scattering of classes that way myself. Anyway, I went on an insanely strong antibiotic and an inhaler for the wheezing, took a nap during my neuroscience final, and proceeded to have the of the most successful finals period of my college career. It’s almost as if being sick made it easier for me to do well. Maybe I just had to get out of my own way.

Sometimes I wonder if people are afraid of success sometimes - that the momentum gets to be too much, and it starts to feel scary and overwhelming. That’s when people start to self-destruct or contract mysterious illnesses or get distracted by something. I guess the mark of a really committed creator is not someone who never wanders away from the work, but someone who keeps coming back.

Snowed in today - it’s finally stopped now, but there are many inches (feet, actually) on the ground. Haven’t been doing much of anything, aside from some much-needed sleeping.

That sounds relaxing, doesn’t it? I wish it were. Whenever I have some free time, I end up feeling guilty that I haven’t been working on some project or other. And I have plenty of them going on. When I’m very busy, I never picture my days off like this. I guess I have to either work on things, or stop thinking that I should.

I have this recurring worry that if I don’t sit down and write out all the music for the show, and if something happens to me, then it’ll all be lost and then the show can’t go on. Tell me that isn’t completely neurotic. It’s probably just an overdramatic way of being curious about audience reaction to the show and, more specifically, the original content I’ve written.

My first year doing the school production, I had nothing to do with the music at all. The music teacher at the time rehearsed with the kids every week at recess and joined us for rehearsals. I still wish I could play the piano like that - he was VERY skilled at it. But I learned my lesson when he wasn’t available and the kids had to perform one of the numbers for something or other - Grandparent’s Day, maybe - and I had to quickly scramble to learn the piano part from scratch. In, oh, maybe 24 hours. I was terrified, to say the least. My fingers used to shake uncontrollably whenever I had to play in front of an audience. I looked up at the kids and whispered, “Sing really loud. In fact, drown me out, OK?” and then proceeded to play the song about seven times too fast and missing at least 60% of the notes, and hoped that indeed they were loud enough.

And of course people came up to me afterwards, all complimentary, like, “Oh Lisa, I didn’t know you could play the piano.” Yeah, hmm. Calling what I did “playing the piano” was probably a bit generous. Now I was annoyed about where my skill level was fixed in the minds of the audience from that day. I have taken a few lessons, you know, here and there.

So I figured that since that was probably going to happen every year at some point, I might as well just accompany the group myself. So what I did, of course, was pick two shows in a row with really annoying and/or tricky accompaniment. Plus, the songs were so familiar to everyone that if they got messed up somehow, it’d be immediately obvious. That didn’t do wonders for the shaky hands.

This year, the nerves are coming from a completely different direction. I have the benefit of putting up content that is completely new - literally, no one knows what any of this is supposed to sound like except me, and I don’t 100% know myself yet. (Well, we do get R-E-S-P-E-C-T in there. Most people have done karaoke to that at some point.) All of the songs themselves are basically set. Now I’m just playing around with what the rest of the score is going to sound like. I’m pretty confident that the folks who’ve rehearsed with me could probably reconstruct the music to the numbers themselves, since we’ve practiced them enough.

But I’m a little territorial about the other music. I’m almost superstitious about not wanting to play it for anyone until, say, dress rehearsal. I love the fact of its newness - I don’t want it to be hashed out and thin by the time it gets to the performance. And honestly, I’m not finished with it yet. I keep tinkering with it - sometimes I’ll be walking somewhere and suddenly think, “Hmm, what if I tried that as a tango?” It’s enormous fun. And I think I’ve improved tons as a piano player because of it.

Or maybe I’m just less frozen up about making mistakes. I guess you can’t worry about a few mis-played keys when you’re wondering if people are going to even like the song.

This article, And for Perfect Attendance, Johnny Gets… a Car in the New York Times (registration required) made me furious. And then it made me sad. As someone trained in behavioral interventions and rewards by the best experts (autistic kids) I am absolutely opposed to the way that school districts are going about showering children with rewards for school attendance. $25? An iPod? A new car? For coming to school? Not only is it tacky and liable to breed entitlement, it isn’t going to work.

Let’s examine some of the points made in the article:

• Many schools have been galvanized by the federal No Child Left Behind law, which factors attendance into its evaluations. And schools, especially in poor districts, are motivated by money from state governments, which is often based on average daily attendance. Here’s the first problem - the government hinging its funding for schools on the decisions and behavior of parents and children. Schools have a limited amount of control over attendance (despite reward programs, as we’ll see shortly) but are beholden to their attendees to get the money they need for the program to run. Does anyone else think this is terribly unfair? It has the effect of penalizing the students who do show up, and makes the school less likely to be able to hire quality teachers and buy quality materials that might encourage better attendance. So the school has to take drastic measures, or the cycle will run it into the ground. Thanks, NCLB.
• [While some experts criticize the programs] other experts say incentives make sense because they parallel the working world, where employees are given financial incentives to work harder or better. Sometimes this happens, yes. But do you get a bonus just for showing up? Or do you go to work so that you can do your work, and perhaps earn those incentives and bonuses? If I were an employer, I’d be very worried about having to hire from a pool of new employees who think they deserve extra money and treats just for showing up. As a teacher, I’m also worried about the idea that students are inherently unmotivated to even arrive in a learning situation unless they are coaxed or promised a fantastic prize. Then the issue becomes whether the prize is “good enough”, not what effort is being put forth or what results the student is getting. By the way, I’ve worked with some kids who were school phobic and had severe attendance problems, so I do realize that for some kids, there are valid arguments for rewarding good attendance. But the problem doesn’t get solved with iPods - not when the issue is fear of failure and social embarrassment.
• Which leads me to the crux of my position. Why aren’t kids coming to school? Has anyone actually figured this out? Until we do, we’re not going to understand how to fix it. Setting up a reward structure is not something to be done lightly, especially if you actually want kids to buy into it and get the proper message from it. I could see handing out money to families when the issue is that they can’t afford to send the kids to school - believe me, when I taught a little homeless boy who had erratic attendance because his family was staying in a shelter three boroughs away, I wished someone could give them some money so they could at least rent a place. Or take the kid who has to stay home with the younger sibling because the family can’t afford child care. I could see a situation like that warranting some money. But not from the school - from social services! On the other hand, if the issue is that kids are disengaged, or don’t care, or don’t think it matters, then you’ve got to get them to engage and to care. And I don’t think artificial rewards are the way. At least, not by themselves.
• This next quote would be funny if it weren’t so sad and misguided. “Some people could look at it like we’re trying to bribe the kids to come to school,” [a school administrator] said, “but if it takes that to instill a lifelong value in them, then it’s worth it.” What value exactly are you instilling? Don’t fulfill your obligations unless you get a good enough prize? That learning isn’t worth anything unless you receive a bonus at the end? That improving yourself and future situation in life aren’t reasons enough to attend school, but $25 is? I don’t mean to sound like I’m ideologically opposed to all extrinsic reinforcement for good behavior - believe me, I’m not, and I’ll happily give out tokens or tickets or treats to any kid who is working with me when that’s required - but if your goal is to instill positive values and habits in kids, you’ve got to do a lot more than give them things. You’ve got to transfer their motivation from extrinsic reinforcement to intrinsic - having a sense of accomplishment and completion, being responsible, wanting to do the best they can. I didn’t see any evidence that these interventions led to those outcomes. Whereas most of the kids I work with barely remember that they’re earning tickets or tokens after a while - they’re just happy to be moving forward and doing what they need to do. The reinforcement serves more as a push over the hump than a permanent requirement for good performance. I think that’s really key.
• For many of the schools in the article, the rewards didn’t even work. Attendance remained stagnant, or even declined. I think that speaks for itself. It’s exactly what you would expect from a behavior modification program with static rewards - it becomes the new baseline, and people require even more rewarding to make a dent. Or worse, people become immune to the rewards, because the underlying problem hasn’t been solved and no amount of rewarding could possible solve it.
• Some schools said incentives had prompted students to come to school even when they were sick. What a terrible idea. This is one of my pet peeves - when kids come in clearly too sick to function. It’s not good public health policy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sick during my teaching career because of illnesses going around school. It also spreads to my family and their workplaces. It spreads to other kids in the classroom. If they do get kept home, then their parents miss a day of work. And before I get too hysterical about nasty epidemics spread via schools, I’ll just say that if the kid is really too sick to come to school, s/he’s not going to be able to focus on what material’s being presented, or what test is being given. Whereas if s/he stays home, there isn’t that expectation that s/he heard and understood the information. So it’s really setting a kid up to fail to send her to school if she really should not be there. Okay, now to be devil’s advocate — are “sick” kids always sick? Of course not. We recently had an “epidemic” of sprained ankles. I didn’t know that was viral! Kids will try anything to see where the limits are. In my family, that never would have worked. I really think this is more of a parenting issue than a school policy issue.
• That’s the thing about all this. I really believe this is mostly about parenting. I also believe it’s about a general societal aversion to school. I think most people hate school (even if they didn’t hate school as kids) and that it’s socially acceptable to hate school, even encouraged. I think there are many competing elements for kids’ attention these days, and that a large segment of the business world would rather kids stay home and watch their advertisements and eat their food and play with their branded action figures rather than go to school. We raise consumers, not learners. I also think that the competitive nature of schools leaves many kids out, either because they hate the pressure or can’t keep up with it. So we’ve got to buy their attention, just like everybody else. It’s extremely sad and worrisome to me.

My experience as a teacher is very far from this - maybe it’s because I teach younger kids, or because they’re coming in from much more difficult places and are finally finding success at my school. I know it can’t be bad everywhere, because it isn’t bad where I am.

One of these days I’m going to write a post about behavioral interventions and explain how I think giving out prizes and consequences can be useful - or like in this case, counterproductive. It’s a topic I see a lot of misunderstandings about.

Now if you’ll give me $25 and a new iPod to sit down at the computer, I can start on that right away.

I was up until after midnight re-reading my first novel, examining what needed work.

It needs a LOT of work. As in, it needs to be completely redone from the beginning.

Hmm.

The first day of the conference was great! I am totally inspired to dig out my children’s stuff and polish it up, especially for that one editor who told us that we could submit unsolicited to her for the next 30 days. Way to give me a jump start! I actually left the conference a bit early because I was having a nice migraine and couldn’t handle sitting maturely through any more speeches, so I went down to the studio and sat in the dark scribbling away for a while. I think I’ve got a new novel series idea… meanwhile I have to work on the stuff I’ve already started. Too many projects at once! Eh… you know I like it that way.

Really looking forward tomorrow since I’m in a session with one of the keynote speakers, who was really excellent this morning.

And now… bedtime!

I’m going to the annual winter conference of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI). Really enjoyed the sessions last year and looking forward to some good advice. I kind of wish it was spread out across 3 days rather than 2, though, since it’s taking up the entire weekend. Tonight I’m going straight from the conference to a friend’s party, and tomorrow I am not going to get home until late afternoon. Lately I’ve had a lot of weekends in a row without much rest-at-home time. Luckily next weekend looks a little bit lighter!