Academic Approach Blog

Latest Posts

A Student’s Thoughts on Loss and the Reader

Tonight, Academic Approach is thinking of its students, its noble scions, illustrious alum, really, the entire reason why we’re in business.  

There’s really no better confirmation of our mission than that moment when an alum writes to us to share one of his or her latest offerings at college, and we can see in that piece the evidence of critical thinking, logical analysis, sophisticated syntax, and perfect usage and mechanics.  Well, actually, there is one slightly better confirmation, that is, when the piece also displays real intellectual curiosity and enthusiasm.  

Here’s one for you below:

——–

Prompt:  Why do so many road narratives begin at a site of loss? What does the writer gain by writing from a space of loss? What is the end-goal of taking loss as a starting point for the road narrative?

Light Up the Darknes

         We have all heard George Santayana’s sentiments on history in his commonly quoted phrase, “those who fail to remember the past are doomed to repeat it.”  The meaning of this in history is clear: it is necessary to study the mistakes people have made before us so that we know not to make them ourselves.  Yet this sentiment is not only a historian’s sentiment.  My fifth grade art teacher used to tell us that “it was okay to make a million mistakes, but unacceptable to make the same mistake a million times.”  Clearly, this idea of a lapse in memory, losing sight of lessons from our past, is represented throughout our lives.  In narrative, loss is just as important.  What is narrative, what, in fact, is writing, but to open your reader’s eyes to what you see and what they do not?  Loss sparks a piece of writing, sparks a narrative, to illuminate the areas in the reader’s mind where the lights have been dimmed.

         Walt Whitman, in his poem, “Song of the Open Road,” illuminates to his readers what they do not notice when traveling through America’s road.  Whitman’s intentions in his poem, describing the road as a place where there is “much unseen,” are to open his reader’s mind to the depth of the road, and how the road shows what is lost about American ideals.  Whitman discusses the road as a free place for convicts, for blacks, for whites, and for all people.  He discusses the dreams that are on the road and how it is open to anyone.  His sentiments are enlightening to his readers.  Whitman’s words—“you road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here”—entice the reader to realize what they do not see about the road, and the freedom they have forgotten, the sentiment of liberty they have lost, in the road and in America.

         In the film I Am Legend, loss plays the role of illuminating the viewers on the idea of resilience.  The plot of the movie incorporates much of humanity—for most of the movie all of humanity except for Will Smith—losing all their human traits beyond animal instinct.  Yet as much as Smith feels the urge, he does not give in.  At one point in the movie he quotes Bob Marley, citing a story when Marley got shot, arrived on stage just two days later, and was quoted saying “the people who are trying to make this world worse aren’t taking a day off; how can we?”  It is through loss that I Am Legend is able to portray this message of resilience; this message of reminding the reader there is always hope.

         Loss sparks narratives, sparks writers, and sparks ideas.  With loss comes the necessity for problem solving, and with loss comes a darkness that needs to be illuminated.  Narratives incorporate loss in order to teach the reader, and to open their ideas to ideas they have yet to think of.  In Smith’s character’s words from I Am Legend, “light up the darkness; light up the darkness.”

Linger on those first pages

I’m often struck by how my students focus on endings—“what happens in the end?”, “where is this story going?” or, more autobiographically, “I can’t wait ‘til high school’s over and I go to college!”

In short, we’re a teleological bunch, racing towards our finish lines frenetically.

In my mind, beginnings are often more interesting, especially literary ones. 

Endings tend to be weak, offering false promise.  Too often even the best novelists yield to that public desire for a tidy ending, that satisfying sense of closure we long for but is constantly deferred in a real world.  

Beginnings, on the other hand, are often fraught with insecurity, equivocation, qualification, and a fundamental doubt about the very assertion of life the novel sets forth.  In this way, novelistic beginnings are the more interesting literary form—they speak to all of us directly, authentically, about the challenge of articulating our position, declaring it boldly, and living it confidently.

Here are a few of my favorites.  Enjoy, and, going forward, linger on those first pages….

“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”

          Dickens, David Copperfield

 “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”

           Salinger, Catcher in the Rye

“I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:—Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly,—I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me.”

             Sterne, Tristram Shandy

How good is your academese?

Somewhere between a coercive language immersion program, like Orwellian Newspeak (except it’s not known at all for its concision), and some odd naturalistic, linguistic emergence, like Nicaraguan deaf children signing their own language (except it’s much more obtrusive), lies academese, that esoteric idiom known only to that precious few meisters and apprentices that occupy the ivory tower of academia.  

Now, as someone who prefers the abstruse to the mundane, I hesitate to cast aspersions on my adoptive mother tongue, academese, yet, even the most foppish don has his limits!

A like-minded fellow recently brought to my attention a pretty fantastic app that pokes fun at those would-be Oxford dons and their academician speak. The Facebook app is shite gifts for academics, and perhaps its best offering is “Sentence in outrageous academese.”

Now, those of us who’ve undertaken graduate programs in literary studies might be more prepared to muddle our way through the following recondite rumination from University of Chicago’s Homi Bhaba, but I submit it all to you tonight for a little translation challenge.  

Whoever gets closest the meaning, if there is indeed meaning, of what follows wins an Academic Approach badge of Esoterica!  Read and enjoy:

 
“If, for a while, the ruse of desire is calculable for the uses of discipline soon the repetition of guilt, justification, pseudo-scientific theories, superstition, spurious authorities, and classification can be seen as the desperate effort to ‘normalize’ formally the disturbance of a discourse of splitting that violates the rational, enlightened claims of its enunciatory modality.”

Any brave enough to take on that challenge?

Mad Skrilla: The Common Currency of the Street

How shocking the vivid argot of young people today! Imagine our befuddlement when recently accosted by the indelicate language of the street corner in what was unfolding as an otherwise proper conversation with one of our well-bred and punctilious students. Though this would not be the first time we have been waylaid by the urban patois of our young charges, we were, nevertheless, sufficiently bemused that we paused to consider how we might intervene so as to take full advantage of the teachable moment that had presented itself. Here, after all, was one of our ambitious young students in the midst of a conversation about his summer employment with his SAT/ACT Grammar, Reading, and Essay instructor. As we have stated on previous occasions, our effort to expand the active vocabulary of America’s youth by shepherding them away from the slippery slopes of indolent locution is part and parcel of our ongoing quest to elevate and instruct these lexically challenged youths in the more subtle expressions found in the educated citizen’s vocabulary. Here is the expression that so took us aback:

 

“My girlfriend’s mother knew the woman who owned the store, so I was able to get a job there right after school ended. I worked fifty hours a week; at the end of the summer I had made mad skrilla.”

 

As we have made clear on other occasions, in conversations such as the one illustrated above, we feel compelled to ask our students: Might it not be the wisest path to standardized test success—and success in life beyond the test—to be ever vigilant of how one wields the mother tongue with its million-plus vocabulary? Ought one not ask oneself what might be the SAT/ACT-appropriate diction to substitute for one’s own slanged exclamations? We delight in imagining our student above catching himself in mid-sentence and forming the following corrective SAT sentence completion exercise?

 

Each sentence below has one or two blanks, each blank indicating that something has been omitted. Beneath the sentence are five words or sets of words labeled A through E. Choose the word or set of words that, when inserted in the sentence, best fits the meaning of the sentence as a whole.

 

Example:

My girlfriend’s mother knew the woman who owned the store, so I was able to get a job there right after school ended. I worked fifty hours a week; at the end of the summer I had made __________.

 

(A) handsome reconstitution     (B) preternatural balderdash     (C) flummoxed gizzards

       (D) solipsistic numeration     (E) considerable remuneration

 

Certainly a worthy mental exercise for any enterprising college-bound teen to take on as the opportunity presents itself. We like to imagine the zealous one who, upon hearing his peers mar their exchanges with such ill-wrought locutions, might even begin to intervene in the midst of casual conversations among friends by suggesting standardized-test suitable phraseology. All present would be edified and better prepared not just to sit for the upcoming standardized exams but also to engage fastidious teachers in meaningful conversation.

 

Imagine the student quoted above urging his peers to reconsider their unfiltered expressions and to substitute, with such a phrase as considerable remuneration, such coarse and non-standardized expressions as mad skrilla, insane chedda, sick jacksons, crazy chalupa, or hella bones. No doubt, this thoughtful fellow’s friends would repay him in full for his uplifting lexical interventions.

A Word from the Wise on Early Decision

At Academic Approach, we collaborate with our friends in college counseling, support the hard and excellent work they do, and, well, constantly learn from them.  

If imitation is the highest form of flattery, then tonight’s blog is an homage to one of our favorite college counselors, Elizabeth Pleshette, who tells it like it is about Early Decision.  

This is solid advice for all students considering that option. Click here and learn more!

Formative Lessons in Vocabulary

One of my favorite movies is The Three Amigos. Like many of the movies I dragged my father to see when I was a little vehement boy, it attracted a dozen patrons. To this day I cannot figure out why that movie bombed at the box office—it was pure genius from beginning to end and so, so funny.

But that’s not my point. I bring this film up because two classic scenes in this film illustrate how important it is to have a comprehensive vocabulary.

The first one appears at the outset of the film when the three jobless actors receive a letter from a small Mexican village pleading for their assistance in quelling the “infamous” El Guapo. Determined to interpret this letter as a flattering job offer to act in a movie—rather than the serious request for armed protection that it actually is—Chevy Chase, Martin Short and Steve Martin begin discussing what “infamous” means. They quickly decide that it must mean “not famous.” In their minds, the letter makes it clear that they will be performing with an unknown. In reality, however, the word describes someone that is “notoriously bad.” The adjective is meant to describe El Guapo’s character, not his star power. Oops.

Later on in the movie, the villainous El Guapo is questioning his principal henchman about the arrangements that his underling has prepared for El Guapo’s birthday celebration that evening. 

Excited about the imminent event, the man tells El Guapo that there will be pinatas. El Guapo hears this and decides to showcase his intellectual superiority by asking, “Will there be a plethora of pinatas?” ”A plethora?” “Yes. A plethora.”

Uncomfortable with the word, this man nods his head and promises “a plethora of piñatas,” admitting sheepishly that he doesn’t know the meaning of what he promises. 

In order to understand the world around us as it is spoken and written—and, of course, to avoid finding ourselves in Mexico suddenly at odds with a local warlord—we should consistently build our stock of vocabulary knowledge. Whether you are preparing for the SAT or ACT, or looking for that next acting gig, increase your vocabulary during high school and beyond by studying new words each week. Trust me. In life, learning a plethora of new words can save you from making many infamous mistakes.

Read your 80 pages today and feel the burn!

A lot of people wonder how someone my size (155 pounds) has the ability to lift 400 pounds over my head. I like to joke with them and say it’s pure rage. “When I think about students wasting their time on those cell phones, I just get so mad that I have to lift!” But the truth is that I started out lifting 80 pounds over my head many years ago, and I gradually worked my way up to 400 pounds.

And what I never did is say to myself, “I can’t lift 80 pounds today, so I’ll just lift 160 pounds tomorrow to make up for the weight I didn’t lift today.” Because as we all can imagine, that would be impossible. No. A single-focused disciplined process led me from a wimpy boy to the raging ripped tutor you see before you now.

I share this anecdote neither to brag about my 12-pack abs nor to frighten you about getting into a traffic dispute with me. I merely want to express how important a disciplined routine is in life. This is especially true when it comes to reading. Several students have approached me recently to describe their woes when it comes to reading assignments for various classes. They tell me that they start off with such high hopes, but quickly devolve into a catatonic state of mind that can only be brought back to life with a quick glance at their friends’ Facebook status or a few text messages.

This is a recipe for failure! Reading is as difficult as lifting weights. What it requires is focus and patience. If you find yourself drifting off, try reading aloud until you feel comfortable with the author’s voice. When I first picked up Kafka, I had no clue what he was referring to, but after a few pages, I could not put it down. So trust me when I say that it is worth it to read very slowly in the beginning if you feel yourself drifting off.

Reading is an acquired skill. It requires the same type of force and discipline involved in lifting weights. We all know how to lift weights, but we can’t all do it. People think that reading should come easily because, after all, they know how to read. But there’s a reason why a fifth grader can’t understand Proust and there’s a reason why Lou Ferrigno calls me up for advice.

So turn off that cell phone, log out of that social networking account, shut off the television, and mute that iPod. Open up to the assignment and take your time to understand what you’re reading. If you fail to read 80 pages today, you will be hard-pressed and foolish to make up for it with 160 pages tomorrow.

Sabermetrics: Math and Sport

What do you get when you cross baseball, mathematics, and Hollywood? The answer is Brad Pitt.

Monsieur Pitt is looking to play Oakland A’s general manager, Billy Beane, in the screen adaptation of Michael Lewis’s book Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game. (The movie is scheduled to come out in 2011 but has apparently run into some budget snags.)

For those of you who don’t know who Brad Pitt is, congratulations — you must live in a very comfortable cave. For those of you who DO know Brad Pitt, you may be wondering why it’s such a big deal for him to be playing a sports figure. After all, good looking actors playing sports figures on the silver screen is as rare as frogs catching beads at Mardi Gras.

The reason why I myself think this could be a very cool movie is that it centers on mathematics just as much as baseball. I won’t try here to steal Lewis’s thunder (not that I’m remotely capable of doing so given his writing abilities), but the gist is that for many years the process of assessing baseball players was a purely subjective exercise. Some basic math used such as number of hits, home runs, and a given player’s speed in the 40-yard dash, but aside from that baseball scouts relied on their own instincts more than anything else to predict a baseball player’s future success. In other words, the outcome of a player’s statistical production was being calculated without the use of numbers.

Meanwhile, a small group of – well – uber baseball statistic jockeys, the vast majority of whom had no affiliation with professional baseball at all, were creating a series of empirically based tools, relying heavily on historical statistics, to consistently and effectively predict how well a given player would perform in the future. Billy Beane was the first major league general manager to adopt this scientific mode of player assessment (called sabermetrics) and the results were remarkable. With a mid to low level payroll, the Oakland A’s became a powerhouse in the 90’s….and no one could figure out how they were doing it. While other teams hired former players to scout new talent, Beane was hiring mathematicians.

Obviously, the culture shock of this switch from athletic scouts to calculator-toting analysts made for some good stories and gives Moneyball a good shot at being a very entertaining movie. What Billy Beane did was help spark a statistics revolution – across all sports – that is impossible to ignore. At NBA games, basketball statistics across at least 6 categories run on a constant loop on scoreboards while an NFL quarterback’s Passer Rating (a metric popularized only within the past 5 years or so) has become common discussion fodder for television analysts.

So the next time you’re annoyed when asked to add fractions, multiply exponents, or recall PEMDAS for the one thousandth time, just remember that everything – from the iPod in your pocket to your favorite team on the field / court – depends in some form or another on math and creative applications of it.

Galileo Appleseed

Autumn has arrived here in Chicagoland. Like anyone with a taste for caramel apples, corn on the cob, and gambling, I kicked off the fall by attending the Johnny Appleseed Festival in Crystal Lake.

My favorite event in the festival was certainly the “Great Ball Race.” Brink Street was transformed into a speedway, with hundreds of plastic balls racing down the hill from start to finish. In the end, Ball #59 earned $1000 for its owner, and I was left to ponder how to best rig the race to my advantage next year.

My thoughts immediately turned to Galileo, who nearly 400 years ago probably didn’t really drop anything off a tower. If I may brutally paraphrase Galileo’s thesis, a marble will fall as quickly as a bowling ball.

Still, I have to wonder: will a marble roll as quickly as a bowling ball? And would either roll more quickly than the standard, hollow plastic balls used in competition?

Wack Buster: Moving Beyond Lackluster Locution

In working with young people, we often overhear the colorful patois of their generation.  Though we are occasionally flummoxed by their exotic teen argot, we are sometimes nimble enough to discern and exploit such teachable moments when they present themselves. As part of our ongoing mission to encourage our students to expand their active vocabularies by renouncing their slothful locutions and supplanting them with the more nuanced phrasings afforded by sophisticated diction, we offer the following example from a conversation we recently overheard.

“My ACT tutor is one of the most brilliant educators I have ever met, but, when I saw him in the park the other day playing basketball, I realized that he’s really a ‘wack buster.’”

We feel compelled to ask our students: How often have you caught yourself feeling rather inarticulate after uttering something similar to this student’s indolent declaration?  Have you not found yourself wondering what might be the SAT/ACT-appropriate diction to insert into your own slanged exclamations—perhaps you have even found yourself imagining an SAT sentence completion exercise?

Each sentence below has one or two blanks, each blank indicating that something has been omitted. Beneath the sentence are five words or sets of words labeled A through E. Choose the word or set of words that, when inserted in the sentence, best fits the meaning of the sentence as a whole.

Example:

My ACT tutor is one of the most brilliant educators I have ever met, but, when I saw him in the park the other day playing basketball, I realized that he’s really a __________.

(A) jejune scofflaw      (B) recondite jackdaw      (C) morose fop     (D) maladroit fellow        (E) dapper skinflint

Certainly, a worthy exercise for any college-bound teen to take on as the opportunity arises. We can imagine the ambitious teen who might even begin to intervene in the midst of casual conversations among friends by suggesting standardized-test suitable phraseology upon hearing such unfortunate colloquialisms. All would be edified and better prepared not just to sit for the upcoming standardized exams but also to engage fussy adults in meaningful conversation.

Look to this space in the future for more exciting examples of how you might expand your active vocabulary. [For those of you who are curious, the correct answer to the example above is (D).]