Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Some Suggestions
Posting student art, photos of the school, student poetry, and more about the relationship to food at TAS.
The Role of Poetry
Poetry has a profound role in Zen study. Much of the emphasis is on haiku and enlightenment poems- short, sharp apprehensions of moment. This tradition had a vast influence on American poetry in the early part of the 20th century.
Ernest Fenollossa laid the fuse and Ezra Pound, compounding EF's mistakes, lit it. The book Pound read was called "The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry" (interesting essay here) and it set off the explosion called Imagism, which arguably swept away the poetry of the Victorian age. At least among "interesting" poets.
Hard, precise images. Suspended in space, and somewhat, in time. Moments. An American haiku. I find it intriguing that so many of the poets who worked this vein can be claimed, in part, by Philadelphia. Ezra Pound, William Carlos Williams, and today's poet...Marianne Moore. Much as the Philly connection has been under-scrutinized, so has Moore's entire body of work. I think she will be radically reconsidered someday. The poem that follows has exactly the type of perception I would love to cultivate in our students.
The Fish
wade
through black jade.
Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
adjusting the ash heaps;
opening and shutting itself like
an
injured fan.
The barnacles, which encrust the side
of the wave cannot hide
there, for the submerged hafts of the
sun,
split like spun
glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
into the crevices-
in and out, illuminating
the
turquoise sea
of bodies....
see the whole poem here
If you are interested in a wonderful little museum, filled with art and old books (as well as Marianne Moore's reconstructed office) go to the Rosenbach Museum in Philly. It is one of my favorites. (edit: garbled diction!)
Ernest Fenollossa laid the fuse and Ezra Pound, compounding EF's mistakes, lit it. The book Pound read was called "The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry" (interesting essay here) and it set off the explosion called Imagism, which arguably swept away the poetry of the Victorian age. At least among "interesting" poets.
Hard, precise images. Suspended in space, and somewhat, in time. Moments. An American haiku. I find it intriguing that so many of the poets who worked this vein can be claimed, in part, by Philadelphia. Ezra Pound, William Carlos Williams, and today's poet...Marianne Moore. Much as the Philly connection has been under-scrutinized, so has Moore's entire body of work. I think she will be radically reconsidered someday. The poem that follows has exactly the type of perception I would love to cultivate in our students.
The Fish
wade
through black jade.
Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
adjusting the ash heaps;
opening and shutting itself like
an
injured fan.
The barnacles, which encrust the side
of the wave cannot hide
there, for the submerged hafts of the
sun,
split like spun
glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
into the crevices-
in and out, illuminating
the
turquoise sea
of bodies....
see the whole poem here
If you are interested in a wonderful little museum, filled with art and old books (as well as Marianne Moore's reconstructed office) go to the Rosenbach Museum in Philly. It is one of my favorites. (edit: garbled diction!)
Poor Winter!
It is seven. I am sitting in my dark study. We have a two hour delay, and so, with the family sleeping in I have more time to sit quietly and now, more time to write and think. I seem out of practice.
It is not cold. It is dark. Some of the back roads are icy, hence the delay. But winter, I am sad to report, seems to have fled our valley. Last year's winter was held in a similar pattern: cold air sweeps in, producing momentary ice and snow, warm air sweeps in soon after, melting it away.
A few years ago when my boys were little boys we had the last big winter. Good packing snow and a lasting cold. We build a sizable snow fort and set a candle in it. All night it glowed warmly, in the back of our little artic back yard. I look now at the mud brown and patch white and slip into brief, indulgent mourning...I miss winter.
I also know that the world is always changing. It saddens me that January seems like late-March. But I am also fortunate enough to live in the most lovely place I've ever lived, so I have changed too, and every where and in every time there are moments I long to grasp and long to let go of. That is how we are.
A cold, black creek carving through hard, white snow. That is where winter is for me.
It is not cold. It is dark. Some of the back roads are icy, hence the delay. But winter, I am sad to report, seems to have fled our valley. Last year's winter was held in a similar pattern: cold air sweeps in, producing momentary ice and snow, warm air sweeps in soon after, melting it away.
A few years ago when my boys were little boys we had the last big winter. Good packing snow and a lasting cold. We build a sizable snow fort and set a candle in it. All night it glowed warmly, in the back of our little artic back yard. I look now at the mud brown and patch white and slip into brief, indulgent mourning...I miss winter.
I also know that the world is always changing. It saddens me that January seems like late-March. But I am also fortunate enough to live in the most lovely place I've ever lived, so I have changed too, and every where and in every time there are moments I long to grasp and long to let go of. That is how we are.
A cold, black creek carving through hard, white snow. That is where winter is for me.
The School Day: part one
Some readers are wondering, surely, what our school day is like. When we started the school ten years ago we took for granted several things: that teenagers don't eat well, they don't spend enough meaningful time with adults, and they don't sleep enough.
We committed ourselves to an expensive, but thorough approach to food. The kids would be offered a variety of quality, vegetarian food and would help with the cooking and the cleaning. They would be given some sort of breakfast and allowed to snack at will. We would try to shape their eating habits by exposure and example, and try to encourage self-awareness. We would not get into conflicts about food.
For the most part it works. Most of our graduates develop good eating habits and have a creative, enjoyable relationship to food. Sometimes I think this is the most important contribution we make.
We have between 25 and 30 full and part time students. At any given time, we have 5-7 adults on board. Classes range between individual instruction (in music, living skills, reading, math) and our largest classes of 10 to 12 students. We have one staff person who provides all-around support to the teachers, and a three day a week therapist. Lunches, free periods, and class time all almost always time spent between teachers and students. In addition, several students require quite a bit of support outside of school and throughout the summer.
Sleep. We start at 9:00. This extra hour or two of sleep is crucial. Many of our students don't get up until 7:30 or 8:00. Most seem to go to bed around 11 or 12. The emotional and intellectual tasks of high school are simply out of reach of many students if they are only getting 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night.
We begin each day with a meditation. Some students choose zazen, some a walking meditation. This period lasts about 20 minutes. Generally, we discourage the younger students from doing zazen. We have six acres of grounds, and a little movement in the fresh air does them well.
This is an area to discuss more: what benefits, if any, do the students believe they derive from meditation? We should explore this. We offer some simple instruction, and offer classes in it most of the year.
Lunch is at 12:30. It last an hour. It begins with a moment of silence.
The day ends at 4:00. It ends with a brief period of meditation.
We committed ourselves to an expensive, but thorough approach to food. The kids would be offered a variety of quality, vegetarian food and would help with the cooking and the cleaning. They would be given some sort of breakfast and allowed to snack at will. We would try to shape their eating habits by exposure and example, and try to encourage self-awareness. We would not get into conflicts about food.
For the most part it works. Most of our graduates develop good eating habits and have a creative, enjoyable relationship to food. Sometimes I think this is the most important contribution we make.
We have between 25 and 30 full and part time students. At any given time, we have 5-7 adults on board. Classes range between individual instruction (in music, living skills, reading, math) and our largest classes of 10 to 12 students. We have one staff person who provides all-around support to the teachers, and a three day a week therapist. Lunches, free periods, and class time all almost always time spent between teachers and students. In addition, several students require quite a bit of support outside of school and throughout the summer.
Sleep. We start at 9:00. This extra hour or two of sleep is crucial. Many of our students don't get up until 7:30 or 8:00. Most seem to go to bed around 11 or 12. The emotional and intellectual tasks of high school are simply out of reach of many students if they are only getting 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night.
We begin each day with a meditation. Some students choose zazen, some a walking meditation. This period lasts about 20 minutes. Generally, we discourage the younger students from doing zazen. We have six acres of grounds, and a little movement in the fresh air does them well.
This is an area to discuss more: what benefits, if any, do the students believe they derive from meditation? We should explore this. We offer some simple instruction, and offer classes in it most of the year.
Lunch is at 12:30. It last an hour. It begins with a moment of silence.
The day ends at 4:00. It ends with a brief period of meditation.
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