Blog Post 12 – Alexie’s The absolutely true diary of a part-time Indian

            I enjoyed reading Alexie’s book, not only for the story but also for the strength of the main character Junior/Arnold and the accompanying drawings by Ellen Forney.  It took a lot of guts for Arnold to break with cultural tradition to decide to go to school off the rez.  Attending school at the more affluent—white—school in the neighboring town of Reardan offered him opportunities that “poor reservation Indians” didn’t have (p. 13).  For example, new friend Gordy tells Arnold there are 3,412 books in the small Reardan school library, and reading one library book every day would still take 10 years.  Arnold didn’t understand the significance.  Gordy explained that “even the smallest parts [of the world are] filled with things you don’t know” (p. 97).  Arnold was impressed with Gordy’s insight, calling it a “huge idea” (p. 97).

            This book is able to take small, seemingly insignificant stories and weave them into important life lessons.  For example, Arnold gets a visit from teacher Mr. P who is concerned about his future if he stays on the reservation.  This simple visit causes Arnold to ask his parents “Who has the most hope?” (p. 45).  Arnold wasn’t surprised when they told him “white people” (p. 45).  From these brief interactions, he decided to transfer from the reservation school to the one in Reardan where he could enjoy more opportunities.  If we pay attention, we can all learn from pivotal moments like Arnold’s. 

            Fits of shallowness sometimes attacks us.  Arnold is asked point-blank by Penelope if he is poor.  To his credit, he doesn’t try to lie, realizing that she cares about his well-being rather than his simply “thinking about her breasts” (p. 127).  Arnold realized that true friends care about the person under the breasts. 

            Grief affects us all.  After struggling with Eugene’s death, Arnold finally returns to school.  A vile teacher—Mrs. Jeremy—provided opportunity for Arnold’s friends to back him.  He learned that the “world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are assholes and the people who are not” (p. 176). 

I respect Arnold and what he stands for.  I hope to be able to conduct myself with honor like Arnold and his friends. 

            With pride, I will keep Alexie’s book on my classroom bookshelf.

Blog Post 11 – Rivera’s The education of Margot Sanchez

            Now that I own a copy of Rivera’s book, I will likely place it on my classroom bookshelf.  However, I’m not quite sure whether I’ll find a use for it in my adult ed classroom. 

Rivera’s book is mostly easy to understand—except for some Spanish words and phrases that have no translation for non-Spanish speaking readers.  It uses vivid language to describe how teenage Margot lives her life in “Rich Adjacent” Brooklyn (p. 34). 

This book is full of teenage girl angst and soap-opera relationships.  I cannot think of one of my former students who might have gained value from reading it.  As a general rule, adult GED students walk through fire to return to the world of education.  They want to learn what they have to and get out of there, having a distinct sense of Cut to the chase.  Therefore, I predict they would have little patience reading about Margot’s teenage foolishness and other tomfoolery. 

I was especially turned off by the way Margot treated her parents.  Perhaps that’s realistic for how teens act, but that doesn’t mean I want to read about it or promote that attitude to my students.  Before even beginning chapter one, I could feel the bad attitude.  On the dust jacket, the author offered a list of “Things/people Margot hates.”  What an atrocious way to begin a book!  The main purpose of that statement seems to feed hatred.  I wonder why people must use the word hate so freely.  Feelings of hatred should be reserved for more drastic and terrifying subjects, such as Adolf Hitler and the Holocaust.

            Margot reminds me of the antithesis of Anne Frank even though one is a fictional character and the other a real person.  Anne is in a terrible situation, but tries to focus on the good, whereas Margot has it good but refuses to see it, focusing instead on negative feelings and how to weasel herself to a party. 

Margot seems incapable of showing appreciation for what others do for her, treating them badly.  For example, Margot is angry with her father for his treatment of Moises, so when Margot’s “Papi pulls into [their] driveway,” she “continue[s] the silent treatment” (p. 34).  After retreating to her room, Margot “still wear[s] the same face [she] kept the whole time Papi drove [them] home.  Rage face” (p. 35). 

             Near the end, the book redeems itself a little by having Margot finish working for the store to pay back the money she’d stolen.  I was touched, however, by one phrase: “Secrets can cause more pain than facing the truth head-on” (p. 286).  So true.

            Perhaps my students would enjoy reading Rivera’s book.  Perhaps not.  Time will tell.