REVIEW: The Surprise Attack of Jabba the Puppett (might make you cheer for Jabba)

Angleberger, T.  (2013).  The Surprise Attack of Jabba the Puppett.  New York:  Abrams.

208 pages.

Appetizer:  *The author of this blog insists you hum or listen to the opening credits of one of the Star Wars movies as you read the following*

It's the start of the spring semester, and Dwight has returned to McQuarrie, but it is still a dark time for the middle school.  The evil empire of school administrators have implemented a new program called "FunTime" to ensure students learn the fundamentals of the core subject areas for standardized tests that are months away.  The actual video-based lessons prove to be anything but fun.  All electives, like music and art, have been abolished.  It falls to a rag-tag band of seventh graders to try to maintain the culture of creativity and Star Wars fandom that they have worked so hard to create.  They must search for other brave students to start a rebellion.

I love this series so much!  It's not just because of all of the Star Wars puppets.  I love the way Angleberger addresses major issues in education (like the ridiculous over-emphasis on standardized testing!) in an accessible way.  Such an important critique.

It does seem that addressing the issues of testing, overuse of worksheets, and test prep programs are taking over this series.  My biggest critique of this particular book is that it seemed to struggle to find a balance between taking on the fight against standardized testing and dealing with the usual issues of the middle school social scene.  A few "does she like me?  Does she like him now?" scenes were forced in.  There should have either been more attention to those concerns near the end (which is the route I would have preferred), or the initial scenes probably should have been cut.

While there is a small resolution at the end of the book in regards to the Origami rebels fight, the characters are left gearing up for a larger battle and I'm very curious to see how Angleberger will take it on in the next book:  Princess Labelmaker to the Rescue.

One of the reasons I love showing this series to my education students is because all of the books are framed as being an inquiry.  In The Surprise Attack of Jabba the Puppett, one of the main characters, Harvey, who is often the nay-sayer of the group, attempts to do an experiment to track the learning of himself and his cousin.  At one point, Harvey's dad pipes in with a critique of the experimental design.  The plot also features several of the characters doing a variety of calculations to determine how many students have to get certain scores for their testing rebellion to have an impact.  So many across-the-curriculum connections!

As always, the end of the book provides the how-to steps to create finger puppets.  This time both an illustrated guide for Jabba AND an Ewok are included.  Here's a picture of the Jabba I made from the cover page of a draft of my tenure-track portfolio for work.  I'm thinking of handing it in with the final portfolio:

Dinner Conversation:

"Me and Kellen knew we would be starting a new case file when Dwight got back.
We just didn't know what it would be about.
I mean, you never, never know what to expect from Dwight." (p. 2)

"Today was January 6, the first day of the spring semester.
We found out that there are going to be a lot of weird changes at school.
Judging by how excited Principal Rabbski was about them, they could not possibly be good.  And judging by the posters that were going up around school--"Get Ready for a Fun Time with FunTime!!!!"--they're probably really, really bad." (p. 3)

"Instead of going to your elective classes each day, you'll be assigned to a new classroom, where you'll use the FunTime system to prepare for your upcoming state Standards of Learning tests." (p. 13)

"The first thing on the worksheet was the exact same problem that the Professor had done on the video.  Then there were nine more very similar problems.  It took about twenty seconds to do the whole thing.  Like I said, we all learned how to do these a long time ago.
When we were all done, Mr. Howell hit the play button and Gizmo went over the answers....very, very slowly...and showed us how to do each one...very, very slowly.
And then he sang!" (p. 20)

"By the time we all met in the cafeteria for lunch, we were all thinking the same thing:  How is Origami Yoda going to get us out of this?" (p. 22)

"'It is time for faithfulness...solidarity...courage...all the qualities of a Jedi.'
"But for what?" Kellen and I asked at the same time.
Origami Yoda looked at each of us...even at Dwight.  For a second I thought about how crazy it was, all of us sitting there staring at a finger puppet and then the finger puppet staring back at us watching while the finger looked at the guy who owns the finger.
But something else told me it wasn't crazy.  When Origami Yoda looked at me with his crinkly eyes, I knew what he was going to say.  And I knew I was going to agree.
"Come the time has...." Origami Yoda said slowly, "for rebellion."
Snort," snorted Harvey." (pp. 25-26)


Tasty Rating:  !!!!

REVIEW: My Life as a Book

Tashjian, J.  (2010)  My Life as a Book.  New York:  Christy Ottaviano Books.

211 pages.


Appetizer:  Derek's mom, dad and teacher are always trying to force him to read and to make vocabulary lists (although, he prefers to create images using stick-figures to represent the words.  These decorate the margins of My Life as a Book.)  He is less than excited about this.  He's okay with reading, he just likes to read comic books and collections of Calvin and Hobbes (Sidenote--the book is dedicated to Calvin and Hobbes author Bill Watterson, how nice of a touch is that?).  Why won't adults just understand that?

When Derek discovers an old newspaper article about the death of a teenage girl on Martha's Vineyard in the attic, he can't help but be curious as to why his parents have kept it.  Especially after his mom refuses to talk about it.  All Derek wants to do is have an adventure over the summer, but his best friend, Matt, is set to go to Martha's Vineyard to solve the mystery without him.  His mom won't stop bugging Derek about reading his assigned books and she even enrolls him for an educational day camp.  How can he have an adventure now?

There's a lot of heart to this story, especially as Derek struggles with the way that he is connected to the dead teenage girl.  Plus, when he's stuck at an educational day camp with his class know-it-all, Carly, he is forced to get to know her better and discovers that they just might have interests in common and that his parents just might have some good reasons for wanting Derek to excel at school.

My Life as a Book is the kind of middle grade novel that teachers absolutely love.  It speaks to the experience of being a reluctant reader and uses a lot of humor.  As Derek learns to appreciate literature, he's guided by various people through the process of visualizing stories, engaging with the characters emotionally and predicting what will happen.  *Does a dance*  Yay for a book helping to teach kids how to engage with a story!!!!!!!

I'm so excited about the literacy dimensions of this book that, even though I talked about visualization with my undergraduates last week, I created a new class discussion so I could bring up the book with them later today.

The doodles in the margins, (done by the author's own teenage son, I believe), will appeal to kids who love to draw and kids who had previously taken a chance on reading for enjoyment and gotten hooked on The Diary of a Wimpy Kid series.

I'd previously read Tashjian's young adult novel, The Gospel According to Larry and actually found myself enjoying this book a bit more.  I think it was my teacher perspective that made the difference.

The one aspect of the story that had me going, "hmm," was the fact that Derek is twelve-years-old.  He feels much younger, like nine years old, perhaps.  Making Greg behave that young actually makes a lot of sense though.  Since many reluctant readers will probably refuse to read about characters who are younger than them, by aging Derek to be twelve it means a wider range of kids can try to pick up the book.  Plus, even with the pictures of vocabulary words, there is some advanced vocabulary, even with some of the words that aren't defined with pictures.

There's also a nice touch about companion animals who help people with physical disabilities, and training and fostering them.  Derek's mom is a vet, so he gets to meet a companion monkey.  And in his words,  "I now have a new and exciting mission:  talking my mother into letting us raise a monkey" (p. 138).


Dinner Conversation:

Page 1, My Life as a Book

"The teacher places the reading list squarely in front of me.  "I'm afraid you'll have to try and fit in three of these books during all that fun."
I like Ms. Williams, but I wouldn't complain if she was kidnapped by crazed bank robbers in need of a getaway car.
The reading list--unfortunately--isn't going away either.  I stare at it and wonder what I've gotten myself into.  One of the books is about a kid and his dog over summer vacation and all the exciting things they do together and the lessons the boy learns.
I have a dog and--trust me--that stuff only happens in books."  (pp. 8-9)



"I still would rather be home, but I suppose there are worse things than doing sports all summer.  I tell her I'll look through some camp Web sites and find a good one tonight.
She shakes her head.
"Skateboard camp?" I ask.
"Not this time."
"Rock climbing camp?"
"No."
"Karate camp?"
"No again."
I suddenly fear for my life.
"You have too much time on your hands," she says.  "You're going to Learning Camp." (p. 63)

Page 83, My Life as a Book

Tasty Rating:  !!!!!

It's a Book!

Guys, I am so mad that Lane Smith's next book, the aptly named It's a Book, doesn't come out until August 8th.

I want it now!

You see, around week six of my class, I discuss children's literature and technology with my students.  I show them videos of how you can play with the illustrations with the iPad version of Alice in Wonderland.  And what does it do that a book is sold as an "app" instead of as a...book?  We discuss whether they like to read from a computer screen.  We discuss the unique smell that some physical books seem to have (and how, as a child, my dad would actually sniff inside a book to assess its quality and decide whether or not he would buy it for me.  Oh Dad, you are part of the reason why my students think I'm kinda weird.).

While my students usually humor me with a handful of answers about how they feel about the new technological trends over the two hour class, I absolutely would love to bother them with these discussions over several more classes.  (I mean, I barely touch on the ways that young readers can use technology to respond to books.)  I only briefly discuss how authors are more accessible to readers with blogs, vlogs, facebook and twitter.  I need more time!

But, I just saw the trailer for It's a Book.  And I think even though I still won't be able to devote a whole month to technology, I would be able to squeeze in a reading of this book in the class discussion and still not torture my students with over-talking about this aspect of children's literature. 

It would seem Smith has taken a position in how he feels in the tech vs book debate (which by the way, I feel is a false dichotomy.  Just because I have a kindle, iPhone and iPad and I regularly download books doesn't mean I've stopped buying traditional books.  And I doubt I'm alone in this.).  But it would be a nice contrast to when I hold up Billy Twitters and His Blue Whale Problem, in which a boy named Billy Twitters is saddled with the gift of a blue whale that proves to be hard to care for.  I mention how if the reader has knowledge of Twitter, the seemingly unrelated story takes on a whole new significance.



So, since this book--oh so relevant to one of my favorite discussions--won't be available until August, my month off, meaning even though I plan to get this book as soon as it is available, I still won't be able to show it to students until sometime in October (oh, cruel, cruel world!) I'll just have to rely on showing tomorrow's class (and my summer course!) the trailer.  Because that's all I'll have.

You Do Remember I'm the One Who Grades you, Right?

So, when I teach my children's literature course, I like to show how some children's literature has expanded beyond the page.  This takes many forms.  Showing multi-media stories and incorporating videos of authors speaking tend to be the expected routes.

But I also show my students videos of the OSU quidditch team and their facebook page.  I show them where they can find fanfiction on some of the books we read.  I have them listen to songs by Harry and the Potters, Danny D, and The Parselmouths.  I give them a list of all the children's authors that I've been able to find who have Twitter accounts.  I also wear T-shirts with references to specific books.  If the students email me information about the book being referenced, then they can receive extra credit.

I like doing this stuff.  I think it adds some fun to the course and allows students to see how important books can become to people and how creative some responses to literature can be.  Plus, it always gets a few laughs, which is fine.

But this quarter, as I've been presenting some of these (SUPER AWESOME!) aspects of children's literature, some of my students have been going beyond letting a few giggles slide and have been making comments.

Comments like, "What kind of losers have the time to write Harry Potter songs?"  "'Team Peeta' means your one of those crazies who's obsessed with some character," or "Do you not watch TV?  How do you have time to do all of this?"

Now, while each of these comments was made on a different day by a different student,  and while these types of comments don't make me angry, per say, after comments like these are made, I do want to wander over to the questioning student, knock him or her on the head and ask if anyone is home.

Cause you see, I bought the songs by the Harry Potter bands for the students to hear.  I bought and wore the "Team Peeta" T-shirt for the same reason.  And yes, I do watch TV, but I also devoted my life to this children's literature thing, so of course I always want to learn more about it and its many manifestations.  Plus, I multitask when watching TV.  So there.

I'm glad that my students feel comfortable enough to express their opinions and ask vaguely insensitive questions.  But at the same time, I also have to fight the temptation to remind them that I decide what grade they receive.  And while, at the end of the day, I do grade solely on their work and effort, every now and then, I'd like to remind them about social graces and not mocking their instructor's interests to her face.  Cause the instructor's interests are related to the course.

You see, these comments remind of how a professor once cautioned my class to never email a professor about missing a class, implying the class is a low priority in your life.    This lesson seemed obvious.  Not only is it rude, but unwise.  Don't depreciate the person who controls your grade.  Then I became a teacher and started receiving those types of "I had something more important to do" emails.  (Literally.  I once got an email saying "I have something more important to do than attend class."  I should have replied, "I also have important things to do.  Such important things, that I may not remember to give you a good grade in my class." But I didn't and I've since developed a tougher skin.

But the judgmental comments about the subject matter I have chose, is a new development.

These kinds of things can really annoy a professor.

And if you annoy her enough, some professor might decide that instead of reading that one book for next week, she'll require you to write a song from the point of view of a Harry Potter character.

And sing it in front of the class.

Then you'll really have the answer to who writes those weird Harry Potter songs.  Wouldn't that be cruel fun?  Of course, the professor jumping up on the desk and yelling, "Who's the HP loser now, Beeeeeeyooooootches?!" may be a little overkill.  I'll--she'll--try to control herself better next time.

And now we reach the point of my ramblings:

Undergrads of the world, watch how you word that email or question about the awesome  children's literature nerds of the world.  Cause not only am I, your professor, one, but I am also the self-appointed avenger protector of my peeps.

Fear my wrath, for I am a fan of both ironic assignments and yelling.

A (Teacher's) Rant

My pet peeve as a teacher is that one student. That one student who doesn't attend classes. EVER.

Since the vast majority of my students are in my class to learn how to teach children's literature in educational settings, you'd imagine they would value attending class. And many do. But not the chronic skippers.

Now, I know it's a common belief that you can be a college student, never attend class, hand in assignments and still get good grades.

And I tell you now, NOT IN MY CLASS, KIDDIES! My course is discussion based and built on the idea that the students and I will make more meaning about children's literature by discussing the books together. Reader Response Theory, my friends. I'm all about it.

And as a teacher and person, I know bad stuff happens. I know that individual students occasionally have to miss a class for one reason or another. I respect that. And all I ask is that the students let me know that they have to miss and then approach me to discuss the subject of the session they missed so I can share the key points and activity ideas.

But, within the last two quarters I've had three of these chronic skippers. One went to my class twice. One attended once. And the third I've never seen face-to-face. For reals. And while these students might send one email sharing that they regret to miss my class once, I don't hear from them or see them for weeks at a time. And they usually don't hand in several of the assignments.

This frustrates me so much because my class is only two hours long and it meets once a week. I try to make each class as interesting, accessible, relevant and informative as possible. The same is true for the assignments. And I have trouble understanding how a person can't show up and sit in a chair for two hours, once a week.

Then, inevitably, around week eight or nine of the ten week quarter, I receive an email from the chronic skipper, informing me of their personal sob story, of everything that has gone wrong with them over the last few months. But what they fail to include in these emails is why they couldn't contact me sooner. Did all their fingers break? Did they not have a friend or relative who couldn't get a note to me? They also don't share why, exactly, they couldn't hand in those two to three assignments they didn't complete (or, I imagine, even start). On time. Late. Or at all. And why they didn't look up my policy for late papers which is also clear in the syllabus.

In my replies to these students, I always strive for that balance between respectful and authoritative. But, inside, I am raging.

And that rage is starting to show in my syllabus and class. I've added a note in the attendance policy that if a student misses six or more of the ten class sessions they will fail the course. And I've planned the speech to go with it when I mention this point on the first day of the quarter. It involves phrases like, "If you can't attend class for a few hours a week, how do you think you'll be able to teach a classes from 8 AM to 3 PM, five days a week? HOW?!" and "If you think it's difficult being a student, I assure you, being the teacher is much more difficult. It will take more time, more studying and you'll have to become even more organized. If you can't attend class and complete five assignments as a student, then I don't want to see how you'd do as a teacher."

Except, when I go over the speech in the shower, there's a lot more swearing.

Does sharing this information make me a mean professor? Am I being unreasonable? When I ramble on to friends about these students, they usually think I'm being too nice. Yet, there are students who earn failing grades, but who seem to expect something much closer to the front of the alphabet. And I don't understand. I don't understand at all. And so I rant.

But here's the thing, if I go "teacher as researcher" on myself for a moment, I would look at the attendance sheet and learn that all of my chronic skippers begin by skipping the first week of class. So, when I rant to my students, I'd essentially be speechifying at and terrifying the students who aren't my pet peeves.

Solution? Record myself ranting, post it on youtube and email the link to the chronic skippers when their behavior becomes obvious by week four or five. I'm sure the university wouldn't have a problem with that. Not a one.

Thanks for listening.

*Steps off the soap box.*