Why There Aren't Any Pop Songs about Reading

Recently I've been reading a lot.  Too much time on my hands?  Not exactly.  I'm right in the middle of applying to PhD programs, preparing my house to sell, and teaching a dual credit class at the local high school.  More on my plate than I care to contemplate most days.  If I just don't think about it, it doesn't seem nearly so overwhelming.

No, the reading is my little rebellion.  I've worked for the past year on my master's thesis, and I've read extensively for that purpose.  But my sources were all scholarly non-fiction, and a number of them were in middle French. While I loved my topic - rogues from the nobility re-inventing themselves - and all the research that went with it, my focus on historical matters left little time for imagined plots and characters.  (Actually, reading and writing history involves a lot of speculation, although many within the field would argue that I'm wrong on this point.  To me, that's part of the job of the historian, and if you're reading history that doesn't involve the author making arguments based on taking evidence and filling in the gaps, then you're reading the duller version of what should have been written. Perhaps it's the educated guessing that attracts me to history in the first place.)  My shelf of fiction is overflowing with tales of adventure, mystery, love, friendship, disaster, and probably more.  So maybe you can imagine the feelings of joy I've experienced now that I have at least a couple of hours each day to read.

Bliss.

I suppose, in the matter of full disclosure, that I should make it clear:  I am not a literary snob.  I could probably fake it if I felt like it mattered, but I love reading, regardless of genre.  Occasionally, I finish poorly written books because the story is worthwhile, and the same could be said of well-written attempts as well - even if the story is so-so, an author can suck me in with beautifully written words.  I am unconcerned if a book is a best-seller, and often, I find myself owning books because I liked the title and the cover and the price.  That old saying about judging a book by its cover?  I try to follow that when dealing with people, but with books, I'm a sucker for a pretty face, so to speak.

Nothing says happy endings and rainbows like a beautiful carousel horse.  Right?  ;)

So why am I telling you this?  Why in the world would you care?

I mention it for a couple of reasons.  First, I don't think historians read enough fiction, if what I see at the local university is anything to go on.  Seems that make-believe just isn't a worthy endeavor for them.  This breaks my heart, because fiction really gets to the themes of what it means to be human, and without such reflection, history can be oh, so dull and meaningless.  Truth is, when I chose to go back to school, I almost didn't choose the history MA for this reason.

I almost applied to the creative writing program instead.

It was a tough choice for me, but ultimately, I had to go with my background.  I had only one English class as an undergraduate, and six hours of graduate credit in writing.  I just didn't think it was enough to get me in.  Add to that the way the local program is set up - they have these traveling workshops that require a couple of weeks in Mexico or Canada or who knows where twice per year - and I didn't think I could swing the cash.  Being in school means a drain on finances in more ways than one, since it costs money and requires time that would be spent in the workforce.

But back to my point:  historians who write great history need to read beyond their little corner of the world.  Academia can be quite insular, and if you are a specialist within a very small field, it gets very easy to shut out so much of the world.  I don't want to be that kind of historian.  I like knowing that the people who came before me lived, and that their stories are worth retelling.

I wonder about this girl's story - spoiled brat, getting everything her way, or shy child, never knowing if she fits in?

Second, and this may be a reflection of my history background, too - I plan on writing a series of book reviews.  I doubt that I'll follow the same format that I use when reviewing scholarly stuff, although that isn't such a bad plan, since organization is key.  No, this will probably include a few quotes, what I liked or didn't like, maybe why the book made me think it was worth reading.  Some of my motivations are pretty shallow, but I don't mind to share them.  I'm human and I can admit that (most of the time) without shame or embarrassment.

Now, as for my title, I hope you'll excuse me for employing a very old marketing trick.  This post really doesn't have anything to do with pop songs and why they aren't about reading.  In the interest of selling my topic (myself and my views on reading), I tried to imply that I might indulge in a bit of celebrity bashing in order to draw you in.

*No celebrity reputations were harmed in the writing of this blog.

What a pity.  :)

Democratization, Education, and the American Dream

Lately I've been thinking a lot about democratization, and what it really means, both for me personally and for our society as a whole.  Notice that I didn't say our nation, because I believe that is something entirely different, and that's not really my point today.  Let me soap box for a bit on the views I observe in my little corner of the world before I wander off on a tangent about my personal views on politics and bunk.

Beale Street, Memphis.  Another great equalizer of abilities - too much alcohol.  No?

There are several schools of thought on education and how accessibility has made our society, for better or for worse, what it is.  One mode of thinking, primarily shared by those educators who educate other educators - we'll call it the idealistic view, since I haven't figured out how it's related to reality in any way - espouses how great we are because we treat every living being, every human child, as worthy of a fully tax-funded education, no matter how little they learn (or care to learn).  We don't "throw away" those that have little educational value, because we provide them a place in the regular classroom, and in so doing, prove that we think they matter just as much as every other student.

Another point of view expresses disgust with such a belief (and let me say, I don't necessarily agree with this perspective, but I do find it more related to the real world than the first), and these people are usually more oriented toward the "American Dream," where if you're willing to work hard enough, you will be able to get ahead no matter what obstacles you face to get there.

(Yeah.  I know.  Yet another lie we've all been told, and so many of us still cling to.  But if a society doesn't have ideals, then what holds it together?)

A third perspective, falling somewhere in between these, presents an interesting alternative for many people living in American society, and this relates to entitlement.  And whether you like it or not, public education is an entitlement, guaranteed to all and paid for by your tax dollars.  Matter of fact, the typical cost of educating a single student far outweighs the average costs incurred by one elderly individual drawing social security and depending on Medicare.  Many people don't like to hear it, but it's true.

That myth about old people running this country, voting to protect their entitlements?  It's not exactly a lie, but you have to wonder, in the face of this truth, isn't it possible they see the younger generation as having access to a different piece of the pie?

We have democratized education to the point where we insist that every child should have the same equal chance to learn the same information in the same equal classroom.  But we're not all equal, and that's not the way it's supposed to be.  We've made degrees a necessity for the job market, even if no special skills are required.  We've turned universities and colleges into paper mills, and students into conformists, not thinkers.  This last bit makes me sadder than I can possibly express here.

Not exactly ground-breaking assertions I'm making here, and most of you probably recognize at least some portion of what I've said as true.

But a while back, I made a discovery about myself:  I was leaving me out of the equation.  Yes, democratizing the education process means that many who don't belong are forced down a path that really isn't the best for them.  But democratization also means that I, and each of my peers, has been granted the opportunity to go down a path that was formerly reserved for well-to-do white men.

Watching Mad Men has been very good for me in so many ways.  So has joining a quilting group of little old ladies who tell me how it really was.  Working with a leftist professor who remembers segregation, the civil rights movement, and women's lib also makes me realize how lucky I am.

What's my point?  Maybe we waste a lot of money on students who don't care.  I often deal with the apathy radiated by both students and their parents, or the plain old hatred for the school-jail that forces them into a mold, determining all possibilities for future economic success.  (Incidentally, this last bit is just an unfounded myth that so many educators believe and espouse as a type of religion.)  But I'm still all for it.  A student who seems to have no interest in the education today may carry some of the lessons of the classroom with him or her for life.

Even if the lesson is so intrinsic that it remains unrecognized.

Like democratization.