Enter at your own risk

WARNING!! This is a long and boring entry, one that I wrote for myself last night to ward off first day of school jitters. Read at your own peril, or find something more interesting to do with your time!

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Every semester since I’ve been at Gustavus Adolphus College teaching in the Education Department (I think this is my 21^st semester!), we’ve started our methods block course with a getting-to-know-you activity that is called “What’s in Your Bag?” Everyone (including the instructors) brings three objects representative of his or her life: physical objects with symbolic meaning. Each of us puts the objects in a bag of choice, and we’ve seen everything from brown bags to Target bags to stinky workout bags to sparkly pink Barbie lunch boxes. It’s always fun to learn about our students from what they bring and from how they talk about their objects. As you might imagine there is a range of description from concrete --“This is my flute and I play in the Gustavus Orchestra” -- to abstract --“The walnut I brought symbolizes the hope I have for humanity as I reduce my carbon footprint, grow my own food, and use only sustainable resource products in my dorm room. So help me God.”

My own items have varied of course, but what they represent doesn’t change all that often. Family is always first, so I’ve brought personally meaningful items like the hand-painted covered ceramic bowl my grandma, and later my mother, used for leftover German cucumbers, a baby toy chewed on by sweet grandchildren, or the smooth stone engraved with “Remember” given to me by a friend after my mother died. Any one of these items allows me to share what family means to me. Photos aren’t allowed for this activity. I typically include something from where my personal life and professional life intersect, like a book that I love or a Gustavus souvenir, so I can talk about the importance of education and the Gustavus connection within our family. To add whimsy, the third item is often an “office supply”, like a really cool set of paper clips or Post-It Notes. Some students immediately relate this item to their own love of school supplies, and how the smell of new pencils or crayons evokes pleasant (usually) childhood memories of the beginning of the school year.

This semester, I’m bringing books to represent my life, past, present, and future. I have an old Nancy Drew book to represent my past: The Clue in the Crumbling Wall. My aunt Mary Lou read the book as a young person, and later it came into my hands, although I don't remember how. I hope I didn’t steal it. The book is on display on top of my office file cabinet with some other old books. It has special meaning because I loved the series as a child, read every book, then read them over again. Nancy Drew solved mysteries.

As stereotypes go, Nancy Drew was a champion. She was pretty, she had a handsome boyfriend (Ned) and a snappy blue roadster, a tomboy friend nicknamed George, and a slightly overweight friend named Bess. She had a money tree, too, apparently, because she traveled and lived a comfortable life without earning her way. All of that is irrelevant. What matters is that Nancy Drew and other series that a person today would consider quaint or un-PC were the fuel that got me reading and kept me interested in reading. I didn’t notice the stereotypes; I just loved the stories. Thank you, Nancy and company.

The second book in my bag, the one that is about the present, is Pigs Love Potatoes, by Anika Denise. I could have chosen any number of picture books, but this one went from unheard of to a piece of great literature at our house just a few weeks ago. The older cousins, Hannah and Miles, were interested in the story of how a mama pig feeds potatoes to nine pigs and throws in an extra potato for good measure. This tale, with adorable piggies throughout, is not likely to become a children’s classic, but after reading it 50 or so times in five or six days, it will stay with me forever. No, not because of its place in the literary canon, but instead for its appeal to sweet little children who now know the story and make connections to other stories and to being at Grandma and Grandpa’s house because of it. Ethan and Owen, when you are a little older I’m sure you’ll love the piggies who eat potatoes, too. This book, then, is a touch-point between my professional life and personal life: the value of literacy and the joy of being a participant in the lives of my four delightful grandchildren.

The third book is not really a book. It’s a book reader. Larry/Dad/Paco/Grandpappy and I bought a Kindle several months ago. I’m still not sure how it came to be that we forked out the money, but we did, and I love it. It can’t and won’t replace real books, but it is another way to read, and I’m all for that! The Kindle is about the future, and I am looking to the future, this being my last year of teaching at Gustavus or anywhere else, for that matter. The first semester I taught Reading Methods here I shared an adolescent novel with my students about a future society in which books were banned, The Last Book in the Universe (by Rodman Philbrick). I paired the story with an article I found online about a futuristic invention that was in the early stage of development, a book reader, that used liquid crystal display technology to change the words on the page at the press of a button. Honestly, my students laughed at that idea fewer than ten years ago. They couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t imagine it, either. Now I’ve got a book reader of my own.

As for the bag, I’ve chosen different bags for different reasons over 21 semesters as well. A Gustavus Book Mark black plastic bag, a bag Charlie gave me from the Pike Street Market in Seattle, a bag from Harpie’s Bazaar, an artsy but now defunct shop in Mankato, a book bag with the St. Peter Public Schools fleur-de-lis imprinted on it, and other tote bags in my collection have carried the symbolic objects. This time, the bag is a floral print Vera Bradley quilted bag, picked because I like it and because it was a frivolous purchase (even on sale). I don’t need it—I’ve got a gazillion bags—but I like it. There is no deep and symbolic meaning nor is there a connection to anything I want to reveal about my inner self. Sometimes a bag is just a bag. Oh wait—my daughter-in-law Angie loves bags, too, and has a similar one, so I guess there IS a connection after all! :o)

I’ll get another chance at sharing objects in a bag when the spring semester begins, but anyone who has gone to school as long as I have knows that September is when school begins for real. For that reason I’ve thought on and off all summer about what to include in my bag as the fall semester begins. I don’t see my priorities changing between now and May, when school ends. Family will come first always. My career will end, but its impact on my personal life will continue. And the future will always be there…in the future. I need to get ready for it. I’ll probably need to buy a new bag…