Friday, October 14, 2011

“Harriet Tubman didn’t take no stuff...” –Eloise Greenfield


Mrs. Schlichting didn’t neither…

Late last month I received an email from my dad informing me that my fifth grade teacher, Marilyn Schlichting , had passed away.  The first thing that came to mind upon receiving this sad news was Eloise Greenfield’s poem “Harriet Tubman.”  While this may seem quite random to most, for those of you who were blessed to take part in Mrs. Schlicting’s fifth grade class, you will know exactly what I’m talking about.  You see, each and every week the stick thin, spunky woman would assign her students a poem to memorize.  We had five days to memorize the poem word for word, and then dreaded Friday would arrive when each of us would take turns standing up in front of the class to recite the assigned poem.  As you can imagine, after listening to 20 plus kids recite the same poem over and over again, you knew it pretty well (plus you were not allowed to sit down until you had recited it to, what she considered, the best of your ability). She assigned all sorts of poems ranging from Robert Frost’s classic “The Road Not Taken” to “La Noche Antes De Navidad” (The Night before Christmas in Spanish).  But, for whatever reason the one that stuck with me throughout the years was Harriet Tubman…  

"Harriet Tubman didn't take no stuff..."


Perhaps the reason this poem stuck with me the most is because I associate it with Mrs. Schlichting and her personality.  You see, she was a force not to be reckoned with.  The best way I know how to exemplify this is to share my favorite 5th grade story:

It was springtime and I was eleven years old in Mrs. Schlichting’s fifth grade class.  One afternoon Mrs. Schlichting announced that we were going on a walk outside and instructed us to get in a line at the door.  Curious about what seemed like a random activity (this was the first impromptu nature walk she had taken us on), but eager to have a break from school work, my classmates and I quickly lined up.  She led us out of the building to the sidewalk.  From there we took a lap around the parameter of the school until she suddenly stopped and called us to gather ‘round.  We all huddled close together wondering what the holdup was about.  She pointed down at the sidewalk to some weeds that were growing out of the cracked pavement and started teaching:  “These are sidewalk weeds and they are edible.” 

I’m sorry, come again? Did she just say what she thought she said?

She proceeded to bend down and pull out a big bunch of weeds and then led us back to the classroom.  When we arrived back in class, we were instructed to sit down at our desks while she went to the sink and washed the bundle she had harvested from the sidewalk.  As you can imagine, we were all a little nervous about where this was headed…

She’s not really going to eat that is she?

Oh no, much worse.  Not only was she going to eat the sidewalk weeds (she started munching away on the greens as if they were nothing more than some iceberg lettuce) but also threatened our recess privileges until we all tried a bite.  I wish I was kidding.  We all stared at her in disbelief.  Did she not realize how many people had walked on those weeds? Not to mention, how many dogs had likely…you fill in the blank.  Some kids protested, but Mrs. Schlitcing would have none of it. We had no choice but to pull off a branch and start chewing. 

While in the moment it was a bit traumatizing, looking back, it’s just plain funny.  On more than one occasion I have tried to figure out her motivation for the spontaneous weed lesson.  Was it to teach us nature survival skills (just in case we ever get lost in an urban jungle)?  Was it to improve our immunity or perhaps increase our appreciation for the small yet beautiful/useful things we pass by (or over) each day?  It could be any of those, but I like to think that it came down to a woman with a great sense of humor and a brilliant use of authority. 

Well played Mrs. Schlichting, well played.

"Harriet Tubman didn't take no stuff…"

Rest In Peace

Friday, October 7, 2011

"When I dream, on my own, I'm alone, but I ain't lonely" -Jack Kelly (Christian Bale)

It is true. I recently fell off the blogging bandwagon.  Call it lack of motivation, busy work weeks, or just plain laziness, the truth of the matter is that I have not been inspired to write as of late. But now is the time to seize the day.  And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.

For those of you who have read my blog closely (bless you all) and are up on pop culture, you will have noticed that this is my second reference to Christopher Nolan’s (or as I say, Christian Bales’s) masterpiece Batman Begins.  You may be thinking, “dang, two references, this must be this girl’s favorite movie!”  In which case, you would be wrong.  So so very wrong.  While I do greatly appreciate this film for its many witty quotes and numerous scenes of Christian Bale flying from rooftops – give me a choice and I would pick watching Christian Bale dance and sing through the streets of New York City every single time. That’s a no brainer. That’s right, my favorite movie has and will always be Disney’s classic Newsies.

This heartwarming musical, inspired by the true story of the 1899 New York City newsboy strike, debuted in 1992. At the time it received less than glamorous reviews.  One writer went as so far to say the film, “suffers from sluggish storytelling, a vocally challenged cast (led by an uncomfortable-looking Christian Bale) and poorly shot dance numbers bursting with anachronisms.”  The critiques and poor publicity (however unjust, untrue, and misplaced as they were…), did not keep the film from infiltrating hearts and homes throughout the country.  My heart and home was no different.  Though I cannot remember the first time I saw Newsies, I know I was young (six maybe) and I know I have watched it hundreds of times since.

I am a fan of this musical, to say the least.  When I got my first CD player, the Newsies Soundtrack was the first CD I purchased (to be followed by Chumbawamba…go figure).  I used to sit in my room and sing the female vocal parts over and over again (mind you, of the 16 tracks, there are only four songs with female vocals) practicing for the one day I would get to perform Newsies on the big stage.  I also spent many evenings playing and rewinding, playing and rewinding, playing and rewinding the VHS trying to learn the choreography.  To this day I can still (proudly?) replicate many of the dance steps. 

You see, I was convinced that one day Newsies would make it to Broadway and I was even more convinced I would play a leading role in the show.  Well, many years later, I am pleased to announce my dream has come true…at least partially.  Newsies has finally made it to the big stage.  And while I am not starring in the ensemble, I have the best seats money can buy!  This weekend I’m headed up to Jersey (the show has yet to be picked up by New York Broadway) to see the show I have dreamt of since the age of six.  So, here’s to dreams coming true (partially).  Carryin’ the banner!

And as for Christian Bale looking uncomfortable, I’ll let you be the judge of that:
 

For those of you who have not seen it, and still want to be my friend…I guess we know what you’re doing this weekend…www.netflix.com