Gustav, anyone?

Hey, just wanted to check on Billie and Beth. I don't think I've seen Beth on here, and only one little thing from Billie. If you're out there, let us know how things are going for you with the storm. Some of my family is in Baton Rouge, so if you see some tall skiny guys of various age who are way too emotional and socially awkward - that's them. They'll probably be drunk.

Room to share

Anyone going to San Antonio who wants to share a room. I booked one at the Marriott and my budget probably will not cover it so... let me know. Wendie

What a day!

There are days when I am simply amazed. In my Holocaust Lit class we are reading The World Must Know. I debated this idea (internally) but came to the conclusion that my students must read at least the first two sections in order to understand as much as possible about this "thing" called the Holocaust. My current format is that they read independently and then bring ideas, emotions, questions, etc. to class discussion. They have "think journals" with them at all times to record these things while they're reading.

Today in class we discussed the section about Christianity, Martin Luther's comments on Judaism, and the history of exile within Judaism. Several students had commented in their journals that they felt a new sense of shame in their religion and a new understanding of Jewish persecution prior to Hitler's empire. The conversation was rich, emotional, and moving. I was so amazed at some of the statements they made and the questions they asked. It was amazing that much of their conversation - the conversation of 15 - 18 year-olds - reflected much of our discussion online before coming to New York. I must say, I underestimated their ability to understand the gravity of it all. I could see it in their eyes. They were hungry for more. They wanted to understand human nature and how "all of this stuff" came to be. Wow! This year is going to be life-changing for all of us, I can feel it.

Today, there was a group of 12 kids, in the middle of Nebraska who began to understand more of the world and themselves. Maybe I can make a difference.

~Danielle

School trip to England

The teachers in my school want to offer students a trip to London/Scotland or thereabouts. Does anyone (Angela?) have any recommendations on travel agencies that do a really good job? Thanks,
Leslie

Hello all. I am trying to make it to NCTE conference in November. Does anyone want to share a room? Wendie

We're Off to the Races

School started this week and I must say it was a comedy of errors in a lot of respects. Our rosters are not completed , so we don't know who is supposed to be in the class or not. Plus, they have the teacher's schedules all mixed up. I would be expecting a certain class to show up, but another group of students showed up instead. It's always nice to start a class off by having to ask them, "What class is this.?" Thankfully, the students have us all straightened out. I also missed sending my students to lunch on day two. They had to create a special "4th lunch" period heretofore known in our school as "Neuburger's Lunch."



I appreciate all of the replies to my last post regarding how to begin a Holocaust unit. I have decided to start with the research paper. I guess I want the students to see just how broad the topic of the Holocaust is and the wealth of sources they have available to them. I also hope they begin to find a narrower topic for further research they will be doing next semester.

The next thing we will do is read Night collaboratively via a blog with Danielle's class in McCool Junction. Danielle and I are both excited about the possibilities of this. My twenty-one copies of Night have not materialized as promised, so it looks like I'll be digging into my own pocket for those.

Leslie and Danielle both start out with talking about identity, but I am going to work it into my classroom after reading Night. I plan to use the I am From poem as a starting point for a multigenre project. My plans are sketchy from this point on, but will take shape as I get there.

Valarie, I would be most happy to get your ideas, and if you need to call me, give me a jingle. I know I'll enjoy visiting with you. 417 827 0455

Danielle, anything you want to send my way will be appreciated. I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks.
neuburger54@missouristate.edu

I hope all is going well for everyone.

Thanks Larry

I am finally on the blog. At the end of my second week of school, it is such a joy to watch this video and remember what a great experience we all enjoyed.

Liberator Dies

My brother (a history teacher) sent me an email about this article on CNN.com. It is about James Hoyt - one of the US liberators of Buchenwald. I'm very interested to read the book about experiences told by the people in a small town in Iowa (soon to be published) entitled The Oxford Project. Hoyt is included in the book.

The CNN article describes some of the atrocities that James saw.

Be sure to check it out:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/08/14/buchenwald.liberator/index.html

~Danielle

Thoughts on "isms"

My mother and I stumbled upon the Holocaust Center of Northern California last week. It is located the next street up from the Embarcadaro, on Steuart. From our parking space, we could see the Bay Bridge. The fog was beginning to lift and I could make out indigo patches of sky. The neighborhood, idyllic in an urban sense, has gone through a major facelift because of earthquake damage. Anyway, we intended to go to the Freida Kahlo exhibit at the SF Museum of Modern Art but were challenged by not only the crowds lining up around the block, but the long wait...so we decided to check out 121 Steuart Street. The building is nondiscript, also housing the Jewish Community Center. I pushed on the glass door and was greeted by two men who immediately asked what we were doing in the building; they were intimidating. After explaining our intent, we were asked to sign in, walk through a metal detector, and were escorted to the basement where an amazing library is located. What struck me was the level of security. Outside, were a number of ethnic eateries, a botique hotel, a pretty cool YMCA, the post office...Inside the door of this building were real, live, men in black! I thought back to the "isms" we discussed in New York and was reminded that for some, principles, beliefs, philosophies are above the law (big duh...World Trade Center...was at Ground Zero...), and that the people in this building, in this yuppie-type neighborhood, understand this truth and feel threatened enough to hire security. Is it just a hopeless wish...tolerance? peace? Are we past the point of opting for conscious dialogue to heal and learn from each other? Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a dark, depressing, black hole... that we will kill each other to protect our "isms." Hopefully, our efforts to promote tolerace will be embraced by the young people we teach. Hopefully, these young people will see beyond race, ethnicity, religion, politics, gender...

625 words, more on identity

I've been in New Orleans at my parents' place for about a week. This is never easy, for the same reason that it is not easy for many young people of my generation. I don't know why though, but I know the commonality is present. Anyway, last night we went out to eat, and as we were driving home we passed a store on Magazine Street where my dad bought his school uniforms for elementary school. I didn’t know my dad lived near there, so I asked him to show me where he lived. It turned out to be 908 Philip Street. He then showed me the house where he bit his tongue – he has this weird flap in his tongue because when he was playing football once he bit it and tore his tongue. I know this because he is similar to Michael Jordan, whenever he does anything he usually has his tongue out, and is usually biting it. I have these vivid memories of my dad from when I was growing up, and he could be cutting wood, or playing basketball, or washing the car, and his tongue was always out, and the little flap was always there. He then showed me the house where his half-sister Cleo lived; her father committed suicide and her mother couldn’t cope, so his family took Cleo in when my father was in 5th grade and she was a bit younger. This compassion, by people who were so poor, has always put me to shame. Then we drove a few more blocks and he showed me where he went to elementary school: 2001 Constance Street at St. Alphonsus Elementary School. It is connected to St. Alphonsus Church, which is now a Community Center, and was the largest domed building in the state of Louisiana before the Superdome was built. St. Alphonsus is right across the street from St. Mary’s Assumption Church; from what I’ve found they even share the same address somehow so that they both gain national historic designation. St. Mary’s was built for the German immigrants in the area; St. Alphonsus was built for the Irish immigrants. This history is really neat to me, and simply understood as the way things go, rather than negative. My dad told me stories of having to walk out of the school, down the lines in the sidewalk, “or the alligators would get you,” on the way to the cafeteria. He told me of getting left-over buns from the cafeteria on the way home from school, when there were left-overs, and how they would still be warm and were so good. I remember wanting to cry in the car, and now I am. He talked about having to cross Jefferson Ave., a pretty big street, by himself, from the age of 6. We talked about Abigail, my niece and his granddaughter, who just turned 7, having to walk anywhere by herself, and how we wouldn’t allow it because it is so unsafe here now, but also how she couldn’t do it even if it was safe because she couldn’t figure her way out of a cardboard box. We smiled and we laughed, and I thanked him for showing me around, and I feel like I have some more addresses to add to my Identity Box.

And I wanted to share this with you, because of the journey we traveled in the short two weeks we had together. This experience made me think not only of Identity, but also Place, which Steve and I discussed for a bit, and is certainly a theme in Steve’s writing.

Thanks for being really cool people, and leaving your fingerprints on my soul. And thanks for putting up with me and my rambling writing.