In honor of Banned Books Week, I thought I'd finally get around to posting about The Golden Compass, which I finished reading a few weeks ago and referenced in my letter to my students last week.
I am one of those people who will turn around and read the exact thing that someone is told not to read just to wave an emphatic pinky finger in their close-minded faces saying, "Ha! I read that and there's absolutely nothing you can do about." Do understand that I am not about putting a novel like Meg Cabot's Queen of Babble in the hands of one of our seventh graders (this was one of the novels pulled from the shelf at my middle school, and justifiably so). There's a difference between censoring because one disagrees with philosophical content and censoring because of the maturity level of the readers.
My motivation for reading The Golden Compass came from the aunt of one of the students at my middle school. She called up his mom and told her to make sure that he didn't read this novel for religious reasons. I wasn't privy to more details of the conversation--I got the story maybe third or fourth hand from our school librarian. But as with any book challenged (or psuedo-challenged) in our library, I had to find out why.
I'm going to go into the religious issues at a later date, but I do want to comment that I can see how some people would have problems with the novel. I can also say that it's one I'd recommend to some of my reluctant readers, especially those who have already seen the movie (which, by the way, has been cleaned up as far as religious content goes).
I felt the movie was good for what it was, and worked for the medium in which it was presented, but as far as story goes, the novel has it, hands down.
Here you'll find the readings and reflections of an 8th grade reading teacher. I agree with Taylor Mali - If I'm going to change the world, it'll be one eighth grader at a time.
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Monday, December 15, 2008
The Bible Supports Gay Marriage (NewsWeek)
Miller, L. (December 15, 2008). "Our Mutual Joy." Found in Newsweek.
What I love about the gay marriage and religion conflict when it comes to government legislation is that people conveniently forget that by virtue of the first amendment, people are afforded freedom of religion. By making said issue a religious issue, a Christian agenda is being forcibly imposed on a nation that is supposed to be able to believe whatever they want.
The counter argument can be made that the religious folks who speak out against gay marriage are simply exercising their first amendment right to free speech, which I cannot disagree with. However, what I can disagree with is the fact that they want these religious beliefs, a specific set of beliefs that not everyone in the nation is compelled to share, to dictate public policy. They can also argue that the country was founded on Christian values, with the Founding Fathers deliberately invoking God in their writings. Of course, some early American history professors would disagree with this argument, reminding those debaters that not only were the first immigrants fleeing persecution (much like what the LGBT community is fighting now), but the Founding Fathers were not Christians, but in fact deists who believed in a supreme being deemed God, but rejected ideas such as prophecy and miracles in favor of reason.
I think I may have gone off on a tangent there and ceased to effectively convey my train of thought even though it makes sense to me on second read. I also think the argument might be incomplete, but for the moment I have nothing else to add.
What I love about the gay marriage and religion conflict when it comes to government legislation is that people conveniently forget that by virtue of the first amendment, people are afforded freedom of religion. By making said issue a religious issue, a Christian agenda is being forcibly imposed on a nation that is supposed to be able to believe whatever they want.
The counter argument can be made that the religious folks who speak out against gay marriage are simply exercising their first amendment right to free speech, which I cannot disagree with. However, what I can disagree with is the fact that they want these religious beliefs, a specific set of beliefs that not everyone in the nation is compelled to share, to dictate public policy. They can also argue that the country was founded on Christian values, with the Founding Fathers deliberately invoking God in their writings. Of course, some early American history professors would disagree with this argument, reminding those debaters that not only were the first immigrants fleeing persecution (much like what the LGBT community is fighting now), but the Founding Fathers were not Christians, but in fact deists who believed in a supreme being deemed God, but rejected ideas such as prophecy and miracles in favor of reason.
I think I may have gone off on a tangent there and ceased to effectively convey my train of thought even though it makes sense to me on second read. I also think the argument might be incomplete, but for the moment I have nothing else to add.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The Chosen: Book Three
It took me the entire book, I'm embarrassed to say, to realize that the story was not about Reuven's journey so much as Danny's journey. It is the fact that Reuven does not understand the ways of Danny's people or the methods of Danny's father that make the story really about him.
Reb Saunders, Danny's father, chose to rear Danny in silence. They never spoke unless they were studying Talmud. Rabbi Saunders's goal was to guide his son to find his soul. The only way to discover one's soul is through inner reflection. This statement I can sort-of agree with; in high school I realized my Self through a few years of self-imposed silence. Between that and the philosophical reading I've done since I'm pretty aware of my Self (no, the separation of the two words is not a mistake). I think that is what Reb Saunders wanted for his son, not only to understand the great gift of mind that he'd been given, but to also know his Self so he could better serve his people.
Even Reb Saunders makes a journey through the novel. He is aware that he closes himself off to the world, justifying it by not wanting to be tainted by the outside. When Reuven's father makes a big deal of the need for a Jewish state, Saunders tells Danny he and Reuven are not allowed to see each other anymore. Once Israel is established, the boys renew their friendship. Reb Saunders asks after Reuven. Saunders speaks to his son through Reuven, which I thought was an interesting way to do things, though I do not understand. Saunders uses Reuven to tell Danny that he can become a psychologist. He uses Reuven to tell Danny that "All his life he will be tzaddik. He will be a tzaddik for the world. And the world needs a tzaddik" (287). Saunders has realized the good his son can do for not only his people, but for people outside the Hasidim as well.
What we see here is more of the evolution of religious ideas. The evolution of ideas, like the evolution of any living creature is a slow process. By suggesting that the world could use Danny's mind, we see a tzaddik looking at his son with more than the eyes of his people. With this openness, maybe more tzaddik will be able to affect change and encounter less opposition.
Potok, Chaim. The Chosen. New York: Ballantine Books, 1967.
Reb Saunders, Danny's father, chose to rear Danny in silence. They never spoke unless they were studying Talmud. Rabbi Saunders's goal was to guide his son to find his soul. The only way to discover one's soul is through inner reflection. This statement I can sort-of agree with; in high school I realized my Self through a few years of self-imposed silence. Between that and the philosophical reading I've done since I'm pretty aware of my Self (no, the separation of the two words is not a mistake). I think that is what Reb Saunders wanted for his son, not only to understand the great gift of mind that he'd been given, but to also know his Self so he could better serve his people.
Even Reb Saunders makes a journey through the novel. He is aware that he closes himself off to the world, justifying it by not wanting to be tainted by the outside. When Reuven's father makes a big deal of the need for a Jewish state, Saunders tells Danny he and Reuven are not allowed to see each other anymore. Once Israel is established, the boys renew their friendship. Reb Saunders asks after Reuven. Saunders speaks to his son through Reuven, which I thought was an interesting way to do things, though I do not understand. Saunders uses Reuven to tell Danny that he can become a psychologist. He uses Reuven to tell Danny that "All his life he will be tzaddik. He will be a tzaddik for the world. And the world needs a tzaddik" (287). Saunders has realized the good his son can do for not only his people, but for people outside the Hasidim as well.
What we see here is more of the evolution of religious ideas. The evolution of ideas, like the evolution of any living creature is a slow process. By suggesting that the world could use Danny's mind, we see a tzaddik looking at his son with more than the eyes of his people. With this openness, maybe more tzaddik will be able to affect change and encounter less opposition.
Potok, Chaim. The Chosen. New York: Ballantine Books, 1967.
Labels:
Author: Chaim Potok,
discrimination,
Family,
Holocaust,
Religion
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The Chosen: Book Two
At the beginning of this section of the book, the narrator's father describes the origin of Hasidim. It originated with a guy who walked through the woods and meditated on ideas. He came back, enlightened and taught the people. A cross between Jesus and Buddha. I think Rufus got it right when he said that the problem with religion is that we took a good idea and built a belief structure on it. Generations took Hasidim and it changed. The position of rabbi in the communities is hereditary. But the rabbi is the link between the people and their god. Do they believe that God is such an entity that the lay person, one who has not been to rabbinical school, is not capable of talking to God? It was said that God hears them when they study the Talmud. Maybe the answer to my previous question is the affirmative. I can't imagine being part of a religion where I am not seen as fit to converse with my own deity.
One of the problems, it seems, with being a Hasidim is that while they are experts in the Talmud and it's interpretations, they have little knowledge of anything else. They are pure, in a sense. Danny wants his world to be bigger than just Judaism, which I can understand. And Reuven can't figure out why it's such a bad thing to be worldly. Honestly, I don't understand either why reading is such a bad thing. Although, for many people it's hard to see how religion and science can reside in the same mind and one not take precedence over the other. Since the way people view the Bible and possibly the Torah (I'm not going to make a blanket statement here because I don't know) is as law. One can't believe in science and be religious because the science negates religion. Minus the fact that a myth is a story to explain something that cannot be explained -- and there is scientific evidence that supports the theory of evolution. The book is the end-all-be-all and any other suggestion is sacrilege. Maybe that's why Danny's father is so upset that Danny is reading philosophy.
The Bible is merely a suggestion, a guide if you will. Its word can't be law because then its law is contradictory.
One of the problems, it seems, with being a Hasidim is that while they are experts in the Talmud and it's interpretations, they have little knowledge of anything else. They are pure, in a sense. Danny wants his world to be bigger than just Judaism, which I can understand. And Reuven can't figure out why it's such a bad thing to be worldly. Honestly, I don't understand either why reading is such a bad thing. Although, for many people it's hard to see how religion and science can reside in the same mind and one not take precedence over the other. Since the way people view the Bible and possibly the Torah (I'm not going to make a blanket statement here because I don't know) is as law. One can't believe in science and be religious because the science negates religion. Minus the fact that a myth is a story to explain something that cannot be explained -- and there is scientific evidence that supports the theory of evolution. The book is the end-all-be-all and any other suggestion is sacrilege. Maybe that's why Danny's father is so upset that Danny is reading philosophy.
The Bible is merely a suggestion, a guide if you will. Its word can't be law because then its law is contradictory.
Labels:
Author: Chaim Potok,
discrimination,
Family,
Holocaust,
Religion
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Chosen: Book One
The reputation of this book, and Chaim Potok, should precede this post. All of the reviews scream its praises. Through the first book, it seems to be a fairly easy read. A fair choice for summer vacation. It has piqued my interest in Judaism. It had not occurred to me, rather naively, that Judaism might have factions and religious animosity toward other people of the same faith, just as many other religions do. But then the only Jewish people I ever came in contact with lived in the same community as my best friend, and hung out at the Jewish Community Center along with many of my cousins.
The interaction in Book One of The Chosen that caught my interest, as most likely intended by the author, was that between the narrator, Reuven and a boy of another branch of Judaism called Hasidism, Danny.
As a front, Danny professes religious domination over the Orthodox Jews, calling them apikoros, someone who denies revelation and the prophecy, or someone who's essentially a heretic. The term is meant as an insult as both baseball teams (oh, yeah. They're playing baseball.) come from yeshivas, or Jewish schools. Long story short, Danny hits a baseball at Reuven's head which causes Reuven's glasses to break and a piece of glass to become embedded in his eye. There was already hatred brewing from the name-calling incidents, and the fact that these two teams were rivals. We find out later that Danny's enmity was so strong that he wanted to bash Reuven's head in with his baseball bat.
It is not overly interesting that Danny came to apologize to Reuven in the hospital. And it is not surprising that Reuven gave Danny a tongue lashing for the incident. What did interest me is that Danny came back the next day. His hurt was not in the fact that Reuven was mad at him, but in the fact that Reuven had not given him the opportunity to speak his mind. It is over this that the two boys become friends. The Talmud says that if someone comes to make amends, one must listen and forgive.
I think it is the act of listening that many people have forgotten. Conversation is so much about waiting for ones own turn to speak, that no one hears the entirety of what someone else says. So Danny and Reuven share a special gift in Reuven's misfortune. Danny speaks and Reuven listens and asks questions accordingly. Who does that anymore?
I wanted to say more on this, but since the post was abandoned, then readdressed, I have forgotten the points I waned to make. If I remember, they shall appear in a subsequent post about the book. I promise.
The interaction in Book One of The Chosen that caught my interest, as most likely intended by the author, was that between the narrator, Reuven and a boy of another branch of Judaism called Hasidism, Danny.
As a front, Danny professes religious domination over the Orthodox Jews, calling them apikoros, someone who denies revelation and the prophecy, or someone who's essentially a heretic. The term is meant as an insult as both baseball teams (oh, yeah. They're playing baseball.) come from yeshivas, or Jewish schools. Long story short, Danny hits a baseball at Reuven's head which causes Reuven's glasses to break and a piece of glass to become embedded in his eye. There was already hatred brewing from the name-calling incidents, and the fact that these two teams were rivals. We find out later that Danny's enmity was so strong that he wanted to bash Reuven's head in with his baseball bat.
It is not overly interesting that Danny came to apologize to Reuven in the hospital. And it is not surprising that Reuven gave Danny a tongue lashing for the incident. What did interest me is that Danny came back the next day. His hurt was not in the fact that Reuven was mad at him, but in the fact that Reuven had not given him the opportunity to speak his mind. It is over this that the two boys become friends. The Talmud says that if someone comes to make amends, one must listen and forgive.
I think it is the act of listening that many people have forgotten. Conversation is so much about waiting for ones own turn to speak, that no one hears the entirety of what someone else says. So Danny and Reuven share a special gift in Reuven's misfortune. Danny speaks and Reuven listens and asks questions accordingly. Who does that anymore?
I wanted to say more on this, but since the post was abandoned, then readdressed, I have forgotten the points I waned to make. If I remember, they shall appear in a subsequent post about the book. I promise.
Labels:
Author: Chaim Potok,
discrimination,
Family,
Holocaust,
Religion
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
A Believer Aside
My latest trip down film lane led me to The Believer, a film about a young, Jewish, anti-semitist who was hell-bent on killing all the Jews. He spends the movie trying to reconcile his beliefs with his heritage. It's one of those movies that forces one to examine his or her own conflicting behaviors. Thinking, "I can't believe that guy wants to kill his own people," thinking it makes sense that Blacks end up in jail since I'm preconditioned to think that my own people are no more than less-than.
The film forced me to think about how I am going to teach the atrocities of the Holocaust to my students who have no frame of reference. Shindler's List wouldn't do it. People are so desensitized by film anymore.

What always gets me, and there was a character who said this, is when people say that the Holocaust didn't happen. That there weren''t as many people discovered buried in mass graves in the concentration camps as actually claimed. I've been to the museum in Washington, D.C. On the outside of the building is this poster. I think about it a lot. Maybe because I've got my own string of "other-ness" that is discriminated against. I don't know. Since I saw this movie and since I'm starting Anne Frank next week.
I have to encourage all you (non-existant) readers out there to, "The next time you see injustice... the next time you witness hatred... the next time you hear about genocide... Think about what you saw."
The film forced me to think about how I am going to teach the atrocities of the Holocaust to my students who have no frame of reference. Shindler's List wouldn't do it. People are so desensitized by film anymore.
What always gets me, and there was a character who said this, is when people say that the Holocaust didn't happen. That there weren''t as many people discovered buried in mass graves in the concentration camps as actually claimed. I've been to the museum in Washington, D.C. On the outside of the building is this poster. I think about it a lot. Maybe because I've got my own string of "other-ness" that is discriminated against. I don't know. Since I saw this movie and since I'm starting Anne Frank next week.
I have to encourage all you (non-existant) readers out there to, "The next time you see injustice... the next time you witness hatred... the next time you hear about genocide... Think about what you saw."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)