A call to level the playing field by way of early education

Today's review: the state of early education in Texas. No really. I know I don't usually post about such things in the "real world," but I'm a rule breaker if nothing else. Well, that's not true either... but moving on!

So, early education in Texas: what's my stake in this? I'm not a parent, a teacher, a pre-K student, an administrator, or a lobbyist. Hell, I've been known to say I don't even like kids (which is changing, I'll admit). However, I did get a good education (that started with pre-K) myself. A really good one (thanks mom and dad...). Good enough to be able to recognize that 1) The way our country works, good schooling gives you a massive leg up for doing well in life. Not a guarantee, but an advantage. 2) Kind of on the other side of that, education, poverty, and crime are so inextricably interconnected that to make changes in one area will affect the others. Not that a good education makes you a rich or a law abiding person. But there's an unmistakable relationship between those three things. 3) Looking at 1 and 2 together, we (as Americans, Texans, member of the human race, whatever) should be focusing way WAY more attention on improving our education system. Because as it stands, it kind of sucks.

If you want to get into specifics, private education is actually doing OK, I'd say. Public schools in wealthy areas are probably also doing pretty well. But with poorer districts, the situation may be a little more... wavering. Some things have been done to address this, like voucher programs (sigh...), but actually changing the system so that ALL public schooling is quality- that's what needs to happen. Access to a good education for everyone.

But how to pull off such a massive overhaul? For a start, go to the start of the education system itself. What can be done to improve pre-K? What can be done to make sure that that glorious, everyone's-invited access is achieved?

The 81st session of the TX legislature is going on right now, and there are several bills that address these things, the front runners being HB 130 and its counterpart SB 21. If enacted, these bills would do a couple of totally sweet things: expand access to quality preK for districts that want it by way of government funding AND increased community involvement. Also, they would improve the quality of existing pre-K by, for example, lowering student to teacher ratios, increasing training hours for educators and administrators. For way way WAY more detail on these pieces of legislation and the early education movement in Texas in general, check this out (and also have a glance around bloggersunite.org, which is, and I don't use this phrase lightly, a wicked cool website.)

I've read some bloggery where other Texans out there have responded to this bill, and a major point of contention is as follows: more government support of pre-K means more government involvement, less parental responsibility, and wasted tax payer dollars on glorified day care. Some people have informed, intelligent reservations that come from this point of view; others are, I'm sorry, idiots. To the former (I'm not going to argue with someone who still slings around the "commie" as an insult), I offer this study. It confirms the ongoing benefit of HIGH QUALITY pre-k, and it shows a positive cost-benefit analysis of investing in high quality pre-k: an equivalent of $3.50 returned for every $1 spent. And that's a conservative estimate! Point is, even from a libertarian point of view, investing in early education will actually result in LESS government as well-educated and prepared children grow up and exert less pressure on government programs and resources. We should be able to see the big picture in a state that claims 'everything's bigger here', right?

Chabon and on and on: a review of Gentlemen of the Road

I read Michael Chabon's totally awesome mega-novel The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay a couple years ago, and since then, I'd been meaning to pick up some more of his work. As usual, it was only several months ago that I bought one of his more recent novels, Gentlemen of the Road (2007), and as usual, it took a few more months before I settled into reading it. And AS USUAL, it took no time at all to blow through. What's totally out of the ordinary about today, though, is that I'm getting to the review mere HOURS after finishing the book. Like 12, I'm not even kidding.

Gentlemen is, before all else, an adventure story. It follows two long-time traveling companions (gentlemen of the road, you might call them) in tenth century AD Europe as they tumble in and out of situations of varying degrees of stickiness, from getting caught in a gambling swindle at a road-side inn to ushering revolution into Khazaria, the area of Europe and the Middle East now roughly corresponding to Turkey. In keeping with certain adventure story tropes, the companions are opposites in many respects, but they complement each other and come together at crucial junctures. Amram is an Abyssinian; dark and built like a tank; unexpectedly tender-hearted; fearsome with his ax (which is pretty awesomely named Defiler of All Mothers); handy on the shatranj board. Zelikman is a Frank; skinny and blond (I imagined a resemblence to Tom Petty); brooding and solitary; nimble with a sword; handy as a surgeon. Both are impressively multi-lingual; sarcastic and quick with a come back; of a tragic past; absolutely, if at times begrudgingly, committed to the other; of questionable or at the very least, unpredictable morals, but ultimately good; Jewish. As they scheme and improvise their way across South-Eastern Europe, they encounter and unwittingly join up with the Arabic Hanukkah and the Khazarian Filaq, also- despite another range of binary oppositions- Jewish and suffering from the loss of loved ones. The main adventure in the novel becomes the rag-tag group's effort to establish Filaq in his rightful place as the ruler of Khazaria, taken over by the usurper Beljan.

Just looking at the cast characters, one might guess that a lot of themes and issues for analysis may emerge from this novel, primarily, Jewishness. Some reviewers have criticized Chabon for NOT developing this aspect of the book, but I would argue that Gentlemen contains other thematic Easter eggs (if I may use such a gentile term) which invite further thought. For example, the relationships the characters have with animals- particularly horses and elephants- plays a major part in foregrounding the historical setting, moving the plot, and fleshing out characters. While I only scanned a google search-ful of reviews, the absence of a mention of animals in other critics' write-ups of this novel surprised me. A second element that really caught my attention concerned language and communication: the over coming of language barriers, communicating with animals through language or body signals, life in a multi-lingual world, 'reading' non-verbal texts like the earth and people, writing on objects, it goes on. Chabon heavily incorporates the details of the communicative process into Gentlemen, not only by way of the plot, but also in comparisons (of which there are a glorious many) and figurative language. Maybe it's because I've been reading up on metafiction lately, and I'm seeing connections that weren't intentional, but I think the theme of communication and in particular, language, runs as a huge, if subtle, undercurrent of this novel.

And speaking of language, the literary quality of Gentlemen is pretty fantastic. The way Chabon paces his narrative with his sentences surprised me with its efficacy. Usually, I'm against overly wordy sentences that harbor meticulously detailed descriptions or roving comparisons, or that bring the reader all over time or space before getting to the point and might require a couple of readings to keep track of all the clauses, but I actually enjoyed them here. Maybe it's just where I am in my own experience as a reader; maybe this would be a good time to try and get into Faulkner, I don't know. In any case, Chabon's sentences, similes, and descriptions here are as meandering, whimsical, at times violent, but generally good-hearted, and enjoyable as his protagonists and their story. I will admit, I did some underlining.

In a nutshell, here's what Gentlemen isn't: Kavalier and Klay, life-altering, heavy. Here's what it is: an adventure tale, a fun read, literary, swash-buckling.

Bend it like Bendis: a review of "Total Sellout"

So I've inadvertently taken a break from posting. As seems to be the case with any good habit, it's a lot harder to keep up than a bad habit [she paused, listening to the rain drone against her window and watching the smoke from her cigarette curl into nothing against the tinged gray of her laptop screen], like smoking or narrating one's everyday life in the style of melodramatic detective noir.

Speaking of which, last night, I finished (finally) Brian Michael Bendis' Total Sell Out. Now I knew as soon as I picked up this collection of etc. work from a sale rack (what was it doing there?!) in Olympia that I was going to love it. How could I not? I've been a fan of the guy since his Daredevil run, and if you haven't read Alias yet, o my god, go pick it up. Right now! Bendis' ear (and eye) for dialogue is consistently good and often hilarious, and his use of the comics medium to tell a story fills the formalist's heart with glee.

But enough preamble, let's get down the book itself, shall we? Total Sell Out is a mish mash of "a lot of autobiographical pieces, a lot of smaller crime fiction pieces, and a lot of schticky nonsense." Bendis himself assumes a cartoon form and guides us through the whole thing, always with a quip and fantastically expressive slash eyebrows. The first section includes a smattering of these autobiographical stories. He uses a variety of styles, from cartoon and caricature to the photorealistic snapshot look that the Bendis fan will recognize immediately from his crime comics. He follows with another similarly multi-styled section of OTHER people's stories. Most of these little bits of daily life and observation got a chortle out of me, if not a prolonged guffaw, although one or two were gut-wrenchingly sad. Next up, "Schtick" includes a handful of Bendis' favorite editorial cartoons, along the same lines of the previous sections in their range of visual styles and conversational or observational humor. "The Collaborations and other stuff" rounds out the narratives, featuring short pieces authored by the likes of Warren Ellis. Bendis punctuates his collection with several pages that fall under the category "portfolio" and a few essays that served as introductions to various graphic novels and trades. I.e. lots of goodies for the patient reader.

If I haven't already made it abundantly clear, Total Sell Out is good for a laugh, a couple actually, but that's not the only reason it's a worth while read. For comics aficionados, Bendis tells some amazing stories from his life in the industry, featuring escapades with David Mack (drool) and a blood feud with late Poison Elves creator Drew Hayes. He gives a bit of an 'in' to his creative process (or the obstacles to it) with the rather magnificent wordless strip "Borderlands." For comics theoreticians (not mutually exclusively from the above mentioned fan boys and girls), his experiments with the comics form offer a truly inspiring glimpse at what the medium can do for a narrative. And they give the uninitiated a peak into Bendis' oeuvre in general. I'm just going to go ahead and say that again. Ooooeuvre.

And that wraps it up for this installment! Give this volume a go for some insight, entertainment, and if nothing else, to show our dear Mr. Bendis he is loved. Hair or no.