Why I won't be cheering for Argo.

In Argo, there was a scene that made me guffaw. Ken Taylor, Canadian Ambassador to Iran,(played by the ubiquitous Victor Garber) gives an order to a  Candian soldier in English. The solider answers back, "Oui, Monsieur Ambassadeur" It's a common code in American film-making: you can tell a Canadian, 'cause even though they sound like us, look like us and eat like us --they speak FRENCH. So they ain't like us at all.  Ben Affleck wanted his audience to be sure we weren't confusing our North Americans.

Argo is a great piece of storytelling. I spent most of it on the edge of my seat --right to the fictional end scene and despite the silly Canadian stereotyping (I mean what solider is going to answer in French to an order given by a superior in English?). The film is very, very, very loosely based on a true story. In reality, Ken Taylor, former Canadian ambassador to Iran, and his staff risked their own personal safety to get the stranded Americans out of Tehran. He was pretty miffed at Affleck (see here for the full story), and apparently he still is annoyed at Affleck. In any case, while I was mildly irked at the stupid Canadian accent jokes that peppered the "Argo" script, it's nothing that we Canadians can't take in stride (see Rick Mercer's Talking to Americans for some sweet revenge).   

Argo troubled me on a bigger, more important level. I guess what bothers me the most is that almost every single Iranian in that movie is portrayed as a shouty, crazed fundamentalist. A wide-eyed, screaming, spittle flying, gun-toting fundamentalist. Tony Burman, Ryerson journalism professor, and former head of Aljazeera English, discusses it in a much more eloquent way here  Argo feeds right into the expectations of the audience: Iran is the maniacal "Other". Oh, and they have nuclear bombs. Yeah.

A few years ago, I read Tony Wheeler's Badlands.  It documented his travels to the "axis of evil": Afghanistan, North Korea,  Iran. It wasn't particularly well written, but his assessment of Iran stuck out in my mind: their government sucks; the people are hospitable, kind and generous.

Lately, Iran has been in my thoughts again. Mostly because I've just finished teaching Justin Mashouf's  Warring Factions,  a documentary about being American-Iranian and American stereotypes of Iran, to my S3 (Grade 9 class) . Don't get me wrong,  I'm under no illusions about Iran's government and political/ religious machine; "Complicated" doesn't begin to describe it. But we can't assume that Ahmadinajad represents every single Iranian, just as it is absolute foolishness to say David Cameron represents every single Brit, or Stephen Harper represents every single Canadian.
  
My pupils and I were discussing the lessons we learnt from "Warring Factions." They came to the conclusion that the ordinary Iranians portrayed in that documentary wanted to avoid war, loved their country and were in essentials very similar to us, here in Scotland. Except that that the Iranian people are under constant barrage of propaganda from the West that says they are terrorists. Films like Argo that purport to tell a "true story" just perpetuate stereotypes and feeds the hawkish mentality that we see in the States. 

I hope Argo doesn't win best picture, though I suspect it might. I don't even want people to not watch it. But if you do, balance your impression of the Iranian people with some other perspectives. Read Persepolis ( Marjane Strapji's emotional graphic memoir about growing up during the Iranian revolution) or watch Mashouf's Warring Factions. Hopefully, you'll see Argo for what is really is: a piece of absolute fiction.

"The more you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go”:

Reading for Pleasure

English teachers, primary school teachers have been banging away at this old chestnut for years. Reading, we’ve been told, provides kids with a better chance at academic and social success. It improves vocabulary, increases knowledge base, and makes them better at relationships. It makes them better writers and better speakers. A magic bullet for the ills of academics.

How the heck do we get them to read? The solutions say the experts, are easy: woo them. Bowl them over with how great reading is. Our librarian is excellent at buying in books that interest the students. Our S1’s have a successful reading open house. Live Lit vouchers are spent on bring in wonderful authors like Cathy McPhail and Alan Bennet. I read as much YA fiction as can and enthusiastically recommend to my pupils. It doesn't seem enough.

Still, I’ve had students that have announced with pride that they have never finished a book.  At our school in S1-S3, we have silent reading for first five minutes class and we’ve embedded it into our curriculum. My biggest problem was getting the older kids to take it seriously –some really liked it, but a chunk of them would pick up book one day, change the next.  Too many of them would not bring a book and would mock the ones who do. Parents sing the same refrain: “He doesn’t read enough” and, “she used to read, but now not so much.”

Perplexingly, despite this reluctance to read, almost all kids love having stories read to them, and I’ve seen even the most reluctant reader mesmerized by a story read-aloud. One of my favorite things to do with a class, when we are tired and fed-up on a Friday, is to turn out the lights and read a story from “Nasty Endings”  With this packed curriculum these days, it happens too infrequently.

However, it was discussion with a parent brought another part of the puzzle to me. Last parents’ night, I was delivering my usual spiel about how reading was so important and how we had to make time to read. This one mum got it:  “It’s a habit. We have to create time for it. Maybe we have to make time to read as a family. I mean I always say I want to read and I never do because I’m busy. Maybe we have to set aside a time as family where we all read.” And that is just it: reading needs to become a habit.

Acquiring a habit is actually just the act of instilling self-discipline. There are lots websites that help people instill self-discipline. It involves making a plan and doing it over and over and over again. In some places, it suggests that it takes at least 40-50 repetitions to create a good habit. While this might seem like the antithesis of the suggested wooing, I think that we don’t do our students any favours by letting them avoid silent reading. It’s hard work becoming disciplined, but the results are worth it.   

 So, in my classroom, this is what I’m doing to instill the habit in five minutes a day (+ one library period every three weeks). I insist that they stick to one book -- a book that they can live with for five minutes a day. I have them write in their reading journals every day: two sentences; two minutes. A total of seven minutes.  I’ll check these every few weeks to make sure that they aren’t chopping and changing books. Those that are struggling to read one book consistently will have intervention. I’ll involve parents if I have to.  I’ve been doing this for two months now

Anecdotally, it’s going well. Most students are on their second book. I’ve had a few interventions with students and have them reading high-interest, quick reads to start with and then move on to more challenging material. Start of class routine is embedded: Folders out, reading journals out, books out, Read. When the time goes off at five minutes, they automatically write the two sentences.

I’m still going to woo them. I’m going to read excerpts of good literature. I’m going to enthusiastically recommend books and I’m going to get them to talk about the books they are reading. If we truly value reading for pleasure, then we have to be committed to making it happen in our classrooms.   

Self-Discipline: I haz it not.

Goddamn Penelope Trunk. Most people know her, and sometimes hate her because she tweeted about her miscarriage in a meeting. Personally, I think good on her, in a fuck-the-establishment-kind-of-way; no, I'm mad at her cause she posted this.


If you're too lazy to click through and read, I'll summarise: the secret to happiness is self-discipline.


I only have one word --shit. Only because I know she's right, and only because I know that I have so little of it. Report cards from every year in grade school and high school sing the same song: lots of potential, not enough application. I've secretly known, or suspected this for years, but never acknowledged it. I could be happier if I just knuckled down and applied myself a bit more.

By now, I should know really, I'm ten years into my teaching career and I've stopped believing in gifted children and potential. The hard reality is that most of the time the kids who stick-to-it and persevere, despite setbacks, are very likely be successful in the long run. If you are lucky enough to have brains and perseverance --well, you are set in life.

Procrastination is pre-cancerous cells to the malignancy that is anxiety and depression. I'll give you an example. Everyday, I've looked at the parking ticket on my desk. If I had paid that ticket 14 days after it had been plonked on my windscreen, I'd have saved myself 30 quid. I finally paid the ticket, after 35 days, but not after a good-old-internal-beat-yourself-up. And really, I should be writing my Christmas cards, but this has preying on my mind for a while. Will the Christmas cards get written? If you go by my track record, not bloody likely.

I've had self-discipline in spurts. In 2005, I quit smoking. I've become proficient enough at dancing to earn money teaching it and that is despite being the most dispraxic, uncoordinated person you'll ever meet.

So, this my goal for 2011. More self-discipline

Who do you want to be? Who do you think you are?

I'm active on several social networking sites and share my photos via flickr. I rely on them to keep in contact with friends. At work, they are constantly telling us to educate the kids about the dangers of the internet and social networking and how we should tell them not take to take everything they read or see for reality. People get brave behind a computer and it allows them to do things they'd never do in real life: be excessively nice, just be plain assholes, or be completely opinionated. Yet, I'm constantly seeing smart, intelligent adults getting sucked into somebody else's constructed reality. It's easy enough to do: I generally take people at face value. But the more I'm on these websites, the more I see how artificial our images are and how little we, as viewers, question it.

It's so very easy to create a persona on flickr or on any other social medium and to be honest, so very seductive. I posted a picture a while back, the picture above in fact and, up until last week, it was the most viewed picture in my stream. Some of my most viewed pictures are my self-portraits.

I'll be honest: at the best of times, I fight that "I'm ugly" feeling. So the attention is seducing and the admiration is addictive. I can choose exactly what I put up: i won't be putting up that unflattering pic of me with a double chin. Or the one where my pores look like caverns. Not only that, but I can photoshop myself to the nth degree: shave a cheek here; delete a wisp of hair there; smooth out my skin; and bring out the catch lights in my eyes. I'll pick the picture that is the most flattering --keeping  gappy teeth and gummy smile hidden-- and adjust it within an inch of it life.

The photo-shoppery? That's the subtle bit. I also choose what I write with it and that's what finishes off the persona. A couple of cool links and pop culture references and that's my image cemented. .It's nice to control how others see you and damn easy over the 'net. I can pick what i share about myself: i don't have to be insecure or boring.

There is something to be said to have an outlet where you can recreate yourself and escape, but at what cost? Posting self-portraits is never going to be a major past-time. I'm not that in-love with my mug and I mistrust adoration or people being over-complimentary. I'm constantly surprised at how many people get sucked into these things. I choose what I put up and hence I choose EXACTLY what you see. I control your image of me. That realisation frightens the hell out of me, but moreover, the realisation that i'm selling out a part of me frightens me more. That is what your young daughters' are doing on Bebo and Facebook. Testing out personas and ways of being..

Croick Church

Croick Church
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

Wicked Generation

Wicked Generation
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

So long 2008.

It wasn't the worst year I've ever had. Nor was it the best. In fact, for many people around it me it was downright awful. Unemployment, depression, loss. Forget the "Economy" (though that played a huge part in it), just living seemed to provide enough doom and gloom. There were however enough bright spots to rescue it from being the shittiest year ever.

I lost my Uncle Paul earlier in the year. He was a good man. He hadn't lived a perfect life and he'd be the first to admit it. A good chunk of his early adult life was spent being an asshole and drinking. But, he straightened up; joined A.A.. and never looked back. Some of the family had a hard time forgiving him; I wish that they knew that he never really forgave himself either and he spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it. I get the sense that he supported a great many people through battling their own addictions. In the end, he was funny and played a mean game of crokinole. I miss him greatly.

I was unemployed for the first time in my life this year. That might be the most humbling experience ever. I went to interview after interview where I was told I wasn't good enough. Having always had the good fortune of landing jobs quickly, I was at a loss. I was stuck waiting around for supply work that never came through. I sat through a lot phone calls with grouchy interviewers getting feedback.

Little did I know that the job market was quickly drying up in Scotland. Money was very tight. I got a job waitressing and I taught dance classes at Citymoves. I even did some screenplay editing. The one good thing about that experience is that it taught me that I can still feed myself even if I can't teach. Six months later, I finally have a permanent job: English at Meldrum Academy.

Flickr provided me with lots of opportunity to travel around Scotland this year. I am so grateful for the people and friends in the Scottish Meet-ups groups. A life goal was ticked off the list when Kieran, Pam and I went to St. Kilda. It was quite possibly the best holiday ever. I got to travel to Turkey and I fell in love with that country.

Even though I'm starting out the year as sick as a dog and bed-ridden, I'm grateful for everything thats happened this year. I hope for some others that 2009 brings better things. I can only hope that I can have the balance of good and bad I had this year.

Roll on 2009.

Strangers #5: Kesia and Konrad

Strangers #5: Kesia and Konrad
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

Kasia and Konrad are architects from Poland. They were very kind and let me take their picture for my project 100strangers. They have been living in Edinburgh for a couple of years. They are both from Kracow. We had a lovely conversation about architecture and design and the importance of beautiful buildings in cities. I was attracted to Kasia’s green hat (which hides very striking black hair) and their air of love and relaxation. I’ve been committed to taking photos in black and white, but there was something about the green hat.

(I wrote this from memory, several days later, instead of the copious notes that I usually scribble. I hope that i haven't made any mistakes)

Uploaded by Miss.Informed on 10 Nov 08, 4.33PM GMT

Strangers #4

Strangers #4
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

Things must have been a bit slow at the recruitment office. They both waved as I walked past, peering into the window.

These two fine young men are Sammy and James. They agreed to be #4 for my
100 strangers project. They offered me a career in the army, which I had to decline. I made the mistake of telling them I was a teacher and they regaled me with stories of how they used to make their teachers' lives miserable. Holy terrors apparently. One of them removed the armrest on the teachers chair and glued thumbtacks along the base. Charming.

James is 18 and has been in the Army for eighteen months. He works in reconnaissance. He told me, "The army has been the making of me." He waiting to be deployed to Afghanistan. Sammy, in the infantry, has been on two tours of duty: Iraq and Afghanistan and is waiting to be redeployed in a couple of months.

They were a good laugh, the pair of them. I was brought back to the seriousness of their work at the end. Sammy, the guy on the left, referred to James as "just a baby"

I laughed and shot back, " At 22, you're a fine one to talk."

"Yeah, well at the end of the day I know I am doing a man's job."

Indeed. I may quibble with the politics that sends our troops over. But I have enormous respect for the folk that choose to serve their country. Stay safe boys.

Uploaded by Miss.Informed on 19 Oct 08, 5.34PM GMT.

100 Strangers: 3/100

100 Strangers: 3/100
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

went back to the market with my cousin and new flatmate. We sat behind the statue of King Edward the whoever and munched on a tasty brat sausage and we saw these two gentlemen.

I freely admit it; I eavesdropped. He was speaking with unusual intensity about international politics and globalisation. My curiosity was peaked and I asked him if he would be my next stranger for www.100strangers.com. We spent the next 25 minutes speaking with him and his more silent friend, Carlos (seated on the right).

This gentleman spoke with the evangelical zeal of a preacher. Except, he wasn't preaching hell-fire and redemption. He was passionately anti-capitalist, anti consumerism and socialist. His speech was punctuated by his friend, Carlos' nods of approval and agreement. He asked if I was American and I said no; i did tell him that my cousin had just lived in New York for a year. He told me that being in New York had depressed him, especially when he'd seen flats that had bars to keep people from stealing. "Americans," he said, "are living in spiritual poverty because of the American dream that makes them over consume."

His life has been one of roving: he had lived in New York, Toronto, Iran and on a kibbutz in the Golan Heights. He told us a story of hitch-hiking from Thunder Bay to New York in the middle of winter.

As I was taking this photo, he was telling a story to my cousin and flatmate. Apparently, he was in New York and about to pay for a room at the Waldorf Astoria. A security guard heard his accent and came up to him and asked him; " So Scotty, whaddya think of George Dubya Bush?"

At this point, he paused in his story and stood up to illustrate his point. Then he BOOMED out, in the middle of union street, right next to the international market: "I THINK GEORGE BUSH IS A MOTHER FUCKING WANKER" It was so loud that heads across the street swiveled towards us.

On cue, some young man walking down Union shouted back, "Fucking too right he's a wanker!"

I then realised I hadn't even asked his name. Everyone, please meet David.

Uploaded by Miss.Informed on 29 Sep 08, 11.40AM GMT.

100 Strangers: 2/100

100 Strangers: 2/100
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed

Meet Ian. After a text from a friend reminding me that the international market was on today, I decided that I'd go with camera in tow.

Ian was eating a bag of some of the yummiest sugar-covered cashews which he promptly offered me as gave him my spiel about www.100strangers.com. He was game for a portrait almost immediately. Ian has the "gift of gab" and one of those blessed people who it's always easy to talk to. In fact, I think I might have managed to ask the friendliest person there!

Ian lives outside of Aberdeen, in Balmedie. If you're not from Aberdeenshire, that the place where Donald Trump wanted to put his controversial golf course. Ian seems to have a grudging respect for Donald Trump and wasn't too put out by the idea of golf course.

Originally, Ian comes from Sunderland, but has lived in Aberdeen for over 20 years and he went to university here. He trades in "commoditites", which I wish I got him to explain, 'cause I haven't a bloody clue what that means. He loves Aberdeen and the people. Ian told me that the best part of Aberdeen is Fittie, the little fishing village at the mouth of harbour.

We even had a connection! Apparently, Ian also knows my boss at the restaurant where I waitress. We chatted for a good bit and I met some of his friends. Once again, he was pretty keen on the black and white portrait, but I will post a couple of the outtakes later. Thanks Ian!

100 Strangers: Steph #1

100 Strangers: Steph #1
Originally uploaded by Miss.Informed
Meet Steph. She is my first stranger. I originally asked her friend to pose, but he declined. After a bit of a discussion, she said; "why not? " So thank you Steph, for being cool and posing for some crazy random.

I originally thought the makeup and piercings would make a pretty cool portrait, but she was convinced by me offering to shoot in b&w. I have a pic of her smiling which i'll post sometime...she liked this one the best.

Stef is in college studying art and design. She hopes to work in the music industry.
www.100strangers.com

Reductio ad hitlerum ( some latin pish meaning how to win an argument by playing really bloody dirty)

I've been teaching rhetorical strategies to my students. They wanted to know if there was any fool-proof way of winning an argument.

My reply was an emphatic "no", but in the back of my head, reductio ad hitlerum sprang into my mind. It's the dirtiest trick in the book: align your opponent with the Nazis or Hitler and you win, or appear to win, your argument.
"Vegetarianism saves grain that could legitimately feed the the world."
"Oh yeah? Hitler was a vegetarian."
Case closed.

It's a rhetorical device that is riddled with fallacies, to be sure. And, if you use it with someone more knowledgeable or smarter than you, you may find yourself looking like a right asshole. But it does have the lovely effect of stopping the argument in its tracks. Nobody wants to be a nazi.

I'm not a fan of reductio ad hitlerum. In some parts of the world, using it might even be a profound insult. But, I'll admit I have used it: it is of particular use in those conversations with belligerent know-it-alls who have no ability to listen to any perspective but their own.

I've started a blog. Clearly, you say. Why? Dunno, a few reasons really. One of them is because I'm an English teacher and I realised the other day that I don't write. I don't even know what this blog is going to be about. It might just be me reading it everyday. I might be ok with that. In any case, I've got shit to say. Hello world.