Hilzoy on Teaching

The always-brilliant Hilzoy responds to a Jill Tubman post about Jill's experiences as a student at Sidwell Friends, with a brief editorial on teaching ethics that's worth framing.

Jill describes a charismatic teacher, "Mr. E." who led his students through an extended unit on the evils of apartheid, and a school outing to protest apartheid, despite the fact (indeed because of the fact) that the daughter of the Reagan State Department official in charge of making nice with South Africa was in the class. It was Mr. E's way, Jill divines in retrospect, of pressuring the father through the daughter's personal unhappiness.

Hilzoy comments

First things first: the way Jill writes about Mr. E, both in the post and in comments, suggests that Mr. E was a very, very gifted teacher. He clearly inspired her, and to inspire a student is a rare and wonderful thing. I don't want to deny that for an instant. Nor do I want to get too hung up on the question whether it's OK to take a class to demonstrate (I think not, for the same reasons that make me oppose making kids say prayers.) What really bothers me is the idea of using a thirteen year old to get to her father. And not just any thirteen year old: one whom it is your job to teach and to nurture. I think that is just wrong.

{snip}

At this point, someone might be thinking: but changing American policy towards South Africa is much more important than the feelings of one (very privileged) American kid. She might have become "increasingly moody and withdrawn", but kids in South Africa were getting shot, or losing their parents, or growing up in squalor and deprivation. And of course this is true.

One of the reasons I wanted to write about this is just to say: that might be relevant if we knew, somehow, that our only two options were (a) to use Rennie in this way and have a chance to save the children of Soweto, or (b) to do nothing in the face of the massive injustice of apartheid. But that's almost never the kind of choice we face, and the idea that it is is similar to the idea that Bush and Cheney had a choice between (a) torturing people and (b) letting Osama bin Laden blow up Manhattan.

The whole post is well worth reading.

Throwing Shoes: A Very Brief History

I'm going to avoid blogging about partisan politics today, and write a bit about theater history (which is what I'm often doing when not blogging).

The gentleman above is the great clown William Kempe, acting partner of William Shakespeare. We can confirm that he played Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing and Peter, the foolish servant, in Romeo and Juliet. He was the company's primary clown until around 1599. And he was an enormous star: much bigger, in the early days, than Shakespeare was. (The picture above is from his ill-conceived solo career after he broke up with Shakespeare, Burbage, and the boys. If that seems like a huge mistake, remember that no one had an agent to talk sense to them.)

Kemp was a master of physical comedy and dance. His extended comic jigs after the ends of plays were famous. And for one reason or another, one of his signature bits was throwing his shoe at people onstage. People could not get enough of this; throwing the shoe evidently slayed the crowd every time. It operated something like the pie in the face did later.

Of course, a lot of Elizabethan comedy seems impenetrable from the distance of four hundred years. Why anyone would laugh at someone throwing his shoes at someone else is a mystery that I can only leave you, Dear Reader, to resolve on your own.

Some Things Are Not Political

During the last month of the election, I used this blog to urge John McCain and Sarah Palin to dail back their rhetoric before someone was hurt. Last night, someone set fire to Palin's church in Wasilla, Alaska. According to the AP, people were inside when the fire began, including two children.

Whoever did this should be found and punished. I hope to see the people responsible convicted on multiple counts of attempted murder, and imprisoned for the rest of their lives.

Nothing more than that need be said, but some are already saying it. Bloggers, both on the left and the right, are already speculating confidently about the motives of the nefarious unknown parties responsible. This is unseemly and wrong. No one knows who did this, and therefore no one knows why. If you do know why this was done, please deliver the guilty parties to the police. If not, kindly hold your tongue.

John Cole's response, at Balloon Juice, should be a model to the rest of us. Really, one should be even quicker to decry violence against political adversaries than against political allies. Ultimately it's our refusal to accept violence against our political opponents that ensures a peaceful democracy.

I can imagine no good reason for doing such a thing, and of course, I don't expect that anyone who shares my politics did it. But if this did turn out to be lunatics from my end of the political spectrum, I would be unhappy and ashamed. But I certainly would not make excuses for them. No excuse is possible.

Poem for a Friday in December

The Haw Lantern

The wintry haw is burning out of season,
crab of the thorn, a small light for small people,
wanting no more from them but that they keep
the wick of self-respect from dying out,
not having to blind them with illumination.

But sometimes when your breath plumes in the frost
it takes the roaring shape of Diogenes
with his lantern, seeking just one man;
so you end up scrutinized from behind the haw
he holds up at eye-level on its twig,
and you flinch before its bonded pith and stone,
its blood-prick that you wish would test and clear you,
its pecked-at ripeness that scans you, then moves on.

Seamus Heaney
The Haw Lantern, 1987

Election Day

Please vote on November 4!