Remembering bell hooks: She signed my books but wouldn't let me take her coat

Earlier this month, we lost the physical presence of a great intellectual, bell hooks. 

I had two memorable encounters with this amazing woman. The first happened while working at UMass Boston. The second was at Goucher College. Prior to teaching, I worked in public relations at several organizations. These positions afforded me opportunities to meet and listen to some phenomenal thinkers, scholars and entertainers.

At UMass Boston in 1998, hooks had visited the university to discuss Brazilian educator Paulo Freire. I covered the event for the University Reporter, the campus newspaper.  The article was titled "bell hooks Addresses Packed Faculty Club." In the piece, I mentioned that the venue was so packed, guests had to sit on the floor. Clearly someone had underestimated the popularity and reach of bell hooks.

University Reporter - Vol. 02, No. 08 - April 1998

I can't honestly say that I remember much about the event. But I recall being impressed with so much about bell hooks. 

With her strong cheekbones, creamy complexion and glasses, hooks reminded me a lot of my own mother. They looked like they could be related. 

I remember being surprised by her voice. I had expected a Black feminist to be loud and intimidating. She was neither. In fact, she was rather soft-spoken and came across as caring and genuine.

bell hooks chose the spell her name in all lowercase letters. This resonated with me. A recently married writer with dreams of more significant publications, I had initially intended to keep my maiden name. I had a byline, after all! But my husband was super uncomfortable with my not taking his name.  Even my own family would address mail to me using my husband's last name. So, I compromised. I chose to hyphenate. Controlling my own name the way bell hooks controlled hers -- down to the unconventional use of lowercase letters -- felt far-fetched to me at the time. 

bell hooks was a prolific writer. I honestly don't think I knew what the word prolific meant prior to researching hooks. But I absolutely loved everything about the word. I, too, wanted to be called a "prolific writer."

Fast forward to 2003. I was working in the public relations office at Goucher College. My second encounter with bell hooks happened while assisting with publicity for a symposium commemorating James Baldwin. 

The details of this event are a bit hazy now, too. However, I remember that part of my job was to greet speakers, coordinate greenroom amenities and make people feel welcome at the college. It was in this capacity that bell hooks politely refused to let me hang up her coat. She opted to keep it with her.

"We New Yorkers have a thing about our coats," she said.

I remember thinking that this was some strange superstition that I, a non-New Yorker who grew up in Chester, Pa., simply didn't understand. But it stuck with me. Over the years, I've wondered if bell hooks' not wanting to hand over her coat was, in fact, a metaphor for the guarded mistrust that Black women have been forced to employ to survive in America. Why put your covering in the hands of another, when you can maintain control yourself?

I was blessed to have bell hooks sign two books during the symposium at Goucher. She signed one of her children's books, Homemade Love, for my then one-year-old daughter. She also signed a copy of Wounds of Passion: A Writing Life. I recall her chuckling when she saw it, saying "Wow! You went way back with this one!"  

Unfortunately, I have no idea where my signed copy of Wounds of Passion: A Writing Life might be. I hope that whoever has it will appreciate its specialness.

I found out first about bell hooks' death from my daughter, now a sophomore in college, who forwarded a post from social media. I searched for the copy of Homemade Love and sent her the image of hooks' note on the title page. I followed it with a note of my own: "You are special!" 

As my daughters approach womanhood, I pray that they will be open to reading bell hooks' writing and watching her lectures. I see that they've already embraced aspects of feminism that I was not ready for at their ages. 

bell hooks made us think. She modeled self-growth and taught us how to articulate many of our struggles as women and as Black Americans. I am thankful for her voice and that it will live on for generations through her prolific writing.

You can watch bell hooks' keynote address at the James Baldwin Symposium at Goucher College in 2003 on C-Span.

* University of Massachusetts Boston, "University Reporter - Vol. 02, No. 08 - April 1998" (1998). 1996-2009, University Reporter. Paper 65. http://scholarworks.umb.edu/university_reporter/65

Look it up! Paper Dictionaries Offer Perks

I recently wrote an article titled "How to Teach World Language Vocabulary with Flashcards: The “Old-School” Strategy Still Works." The post prompted me to think about how I approach vocabulary learning in my own home and what I can do to help build my own children's vocabulary.

Back in the Day

When I was a kid, the dictionary sucked me in -- kind of like the way video reels on social media hook our children today. We always had a good dictionary in the house. And by "good" I mean a huge, unabridged beast of a book that was too doggone heavy to carry around. It rarely moved from its place on the cluttered family desk that we all shared but where nobody ever seemed to actually sit. My siblings and I also kept smaller, student-style dictionaries in our bedrooms. 

I would frequently approach the dictionary to find a word or two while doing homework or reading for pleasure. I'd often look up and realize that I had spent the equivalent of a sitcom engrossed in the dictionary. I soaked up word origins, pronunciations and formal definitions for words I wasn't permitted to say out loud. (Yes, I've been a nerd my entire life!)

Don't Just Google It

In our home today, we have a gigantic, 4-inch-thick Random House Webster's Unabridged Dictionary. It's red, and it rests on a bookshelf in the office. Okay, "rests" might be an understatement. The dictionary lies comatose on the bookshelf in the office. We also have Webster's New World College Dictionary and a small, paperback Student's Dictionary.

After a few years of hearing moans and groans from my children, I finally realized that telling them to "look it up in the dictionary" was not the free pass to explore new worlds and ideas that the statement had represented for me. Google, with its Tesla-style speed and convenience, had outclassed my horse-and-buggy paper dictionary. 

"At least use a dictionary app," I would say in a fuss. "The first definition you see might not be the appropriate one."

"I'm good now," my girls would each respond. "I know what the word means."

Hardcover Benefits

Knowing how to use a hard copy dictionary is a skill I wanted my children to know for many reasons.  The most obvious, grown-up reason (that usually went in one ear and out the other) is independence. What will you do when the wifi is down? That was my go-to question during these conversations. When I heard "switch to data," I knew I'd lost that battle.

Using a paper dictionary teaches a variety of lessons about language and culture. Dictionaries teach us about structure, consistency and organization, including alphabetization. (Putting words and names in alphabetical order is alive and well -- even online.)

Spending some time in the dictionary can also give us a better handle on parts of speech, which help us to become more eloquent in our conversations and writing. 

As a Spanish teacher, I usually get blank stares when I teach parts of speech. Many students struggle to articulate the differences between nouns, adjectives and verbs. For example, when the time comes to teach how Spanish adverbs that end in -mente correspond to English adverbs that end in -ly, a student undoubtedly raises his or her hand. The grammar nerd in me gets excited, until I hear the question: ¿Puedo ir al baño? At least they asked to go to the bathroom in Spanish.

I'm convinced that students who spend more time reading and looking at words have a much easier time understanding grammar explanations.

Dictionaries can teach us about context. When we look up a word and see that it has more than 20 definitions, we understand a bit more about the depth of meaning we can glean from a single word. In fact, some words have dozens of definitions. (Look up the word point for example, to see what I mean.)

And, of course, there are the random words that we learn because we just happen to see them (or the little illustrations next to them) while flipping through the dictionary. These words catch our eye and hijack our vernacular. 

For me, paper dictionaries invoke a respect for linguists and an admiration for language, complete with all of its complexities.

How to Get Your Kids to Use a Dictionary

Here are a few strategies that might help your children learn to use and appreciate a dictionary. Some are from experience. Others are ideas that I wish I had tried with my daughters when they were younger.

1. Take matters into your own parental hands. Don't assume that your child is using dictionaries in school. Many classrooms (include the rooms where I teach) do not have dictionaries, due to space and/or budget constraints.

2. Keep a dictionary handy. Dust off your dictionary, or purchase a more up-to-date one. (Use the affiliate links above to grab one from Amazon.) If money is an issue, ask your child's English teacher if there are any dictionaries in the school's book room that you can borrow for the remainder of the school year.

Place the dictionary in a convenient place where your child does homework. Keep it clear and easy to access. Avoid allowing it to land at the bottom of a pile of books or papers, or else it will never be touched.

3. Be the example. Let your kids catch you using the dictionary yourself.

4. Adopt a family word-of-the-day. Choose a word. Have your child look it up. Use the word throughout the day, and challenge your child to use the word, too.

5. Offer a reward. Hide a dollar bill in the dictionary. Tell your children they can keep it when they find it and earn it. Encourage them to earn it by sharing a new word and its meaning from the page where they found the bill. Give them an extra quarter for using the new word correctly in a sentence.

Share your strategies

Have you ever caught your child in the act of using a dictionary? What works in your household? Share your comments and suggestions below.

5 Ways to Help Your Child the Night Before the SAT

My 11th grader recently took the SAT for a second time. Her older sister, a college sophomore, took the test four times in high school.

As a frequent proctor for the Saturday-morning exam, I view the SAT with an unusual, trifold perspective: as the mother of test-takers with very different learning styles; as a teacher interested in seeing students perform well; and as a proctor hoping to provide a comfortable testing environment for nervous teenagers who are often stressed out about the test.

Getting your high schooler ready for the SAT can easily feel overwhelming for a parent. Many of us haven’t engaged with algebra in decades. And for some of us, the SAT is a not-so-fond memory. In addition, as this NerdyTeacherMom can attest, even when you know a thing or two about grammar, test-taking or academics, chances are your teenagers won’t want to listen to your advice.

I’m here to tell you that you are NOT helpless when it comes to preparing your child for the SAT! I tell my daughters frequently: I am your biggest fan. It’s true.

YOU are your child’s biggest fan. Your role as facilitator, motivator and cheerleader is vital. Thankfully, this position requires zero algebra skills.

Here are five things you can do the night before the SAT to improve your child’s chances of kicking butt on the test.

1. ENCOURAGE THEM.

Remind your children that it’s just a test. Tell them that you believe in them. Text and tell them how awesome you think they are. Tell them you’ll be proud of them for simply doing their best. (And mean it!)

2. REVIEW THE GAME PLAN.

Briefly discuss some of the strategies your child plans to use on the test. (Note the emphasis on "briefly." Avoid lecturing and droning on and on.) Ask them a few questions, such as the following:

• What will you do if you feel yourself falling asleep during the SAT?

• What’s your plan if you have 5 minutes left but seven questions still to answer?

3. GATHER MATERIALS.

Help them collect the items they’ll need the night before, so there’s no scrambling in the morning. If possible, place the small items in a clear storage bag, page protector or pencil case. Remember the following:

• Admission ticket (Print it out.)

• Identification (School IDs, driver’s permits, or driver’s licenses are all suitable.)

• #2 pencils, sharpened (Your child will need old-fashioned, wooden pencils, not the fancy mechanical ones. Make sure they have at least two pencils. Don’t rely on the testing center/school to provide these. If possible, also include a small, manual pencil sharpener.)

• Eraser

• Calculator (Charge it, and add fresh batteries, if needed.)

• Water bottle (See-through is best.)

• Snack (Pack something quick and easy-to-eat that won't be stinky or make a mess.)

• Sanitary and personal hygiene products (If it’s that time of the month, pack sanitary products in a small purse. Don’t rely on the school/testing facility to have feminine products. I’ve never seen a school bathroom stocked with feminine products. Because the test is usually administered on weekends, resources may be locked away and unavailable to proctors.

4. PROMOTE SLEEP.

Encourage your child to get a good night’s sleep. Create a calm, stress-free environment at home. 

I’ve seen students fall asleep during the test. Some students have shared stories of studying until 1 o’clock in the morning and not being able to sleep at all due to anxiety. One student said he stayed up until 4 a.m. playing video games. He had forgotten that he’d signed up to take the SAT in the morning. 

Let your child know that you, too, will set your alarm and will get up in the morning to help things go smoothly. Also, plan a breakfast that your child likes. The testing room will be quiet, and your child’s stomach growling might be distracting to the other students.

5. PLAN SOMETHING FUN.

The SAT is a long exam. The test starts before 8 a.m. and typically dismisses well past noon. That’s more than four hours of phone-free, brain-busting intensity. Something to look forward to -- like a yummy lunch or fun activity -- may be uplifting and motivating. Whatever treat you decide to offer, it will undoubtedly be an appreciated and deserved reward for a job well done.

Comment below to share what has worked with your test taker or to ask a question.

Lessons don't always go as planned, especially when your kids are the students

My 17-year-old and I recently traveled to Raleigh, N.C., for a soccer tournament. The event was a college showcase and welcomed high-school girls and college coaches from all around the country.

Many of the participants arrived by plane or drove hours and hours. While our 300-mile trek paled in comparison to that of many others, the trip was a big deal to me. I did not love the idea of missing school, but I looked forward to bonding and exploring with my daughter on a journey to a new place.

For many teachers, the thought of taking time off is dreadful. First, there are the “sub plans.” Creating lesson plans for substitute teachers is time-consuming. As a Spanish teacher, I try to leave plans for substitutes that require little knowledge of the language, while still creating activities that will feel meaningful and help students improve their knowledge of the language and its associated cultures. This is no easy feat! 

Once the sub plans are created, it’s time to cross your fingers and hope you get a good substitute -- or any substitute. If not, your coworkers will be called on to cover your classes during their already-too-short planning periods.

And that’s just the teacher's perspective. 

As a parent, tournaments that start on Fridays make me cringe for the kids and the classes they’ll miss. My daughter’s team played its first game on a Friday, but we left on Thursday to make decent time for the drive. That means she missed all of her Friday classes, and a few afternoon classes on Thursday. She’s in 11th grade -- arguably the most academically challenging year of high school. Needless to say, she returned with more than just a few hours of make-up work.

Being the NerdyTeacherMom that I am, I contacted her teachers, to make them aware of the absences. But I specifically reached out to my colleague, Mr. Chiarella, who teaches my daughter both AP English and African-American literature this year. I asked him to recommend a book that we could listen to on the drive down, to maximize drive time and help her to not feel so behind.

I was thrilled with my seemingly brilliant idea and excited that my daughter would still be engaged in learning while on the road.

Being the NerdyTeacherDad that he is, Mr. Chiarella recommended not one, but three books that would be included in a soon-to-be-announced literature project: Kindred by Octavia Butler, The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, and The Nickel Boys by Coulson Whitehead. I giddily grabbed all three from Libby, the app I frequently use to borrow books for free from the public library. I did a little jig when I saw that all three were all available in audio form! I was totally willing to use my credits or pay for them outright on Audible, had they not been available at the library.

Since The Nickel Boys was already on my Goodreads “Want-to-Read” list, and it was the shortest of the three titles, I decided we would listen to that one first.

“I have a surprise for you! We’re going to listen to an audiobook! It’s going to help you in school -- and it will help the drive time pass quickly.”

“Please, mom!” My enthusiasm had been met with a groan and an eye roll.

“What? Just give it a chance! It will be fun!”

Crickets.

I waited until we were cruising comfortably on I-95 when I passed my phone to my tech-savvy teen and asked her to start the audiobook.

“Ugh! Can we at least wait until we get to Virginia?”

“Fine,” I said through my teeth. We were about 45 minutes away from Virginia. I turned on National Public Radio instead. My daughter mumbled something and placed an Airpod in each ear.

In Virginia, I pressed play on The Nickel Boys myself. Her body language made it clear she wanted no part of it. Curling her body to the side, she looked out the passenger window as if someone in the next lane would rescue her from an annoying mother.

I persevered. I sprinkled in commentary about how I had read two other books by Whitehead and how awesome of a writer he is. I pointed out that he had won a Pulitzer Prize for the very book we were listening to. When we finished the prologue, I paused the audio. 

“Should we keep going?” I asked with anticipation, thinking that she’d gotten as hooked into the storyline as I had.

“I’m going to read it, mom. Just not now. Please.”

I thought about the miles, hours, days we had ahead of us. I thought about how quickly the years have flown by and how grateful I was to be able to take her on this trip. I contemplated. What kind of memories would we make on this rare girls’ trip together? Should I make her listen to the audiobook with me? Will I be a “softy” if I turn on music instead?

I caved. I grumbled and fussed, mom-style, about how I was trying to help her academically and how she hadn’t really given the audiobook a chance. Then I handed her my earbuds and barked at her to plug them in for me. I would listen to the book myself. And I did. For a chapter or two. I shared a few comments about how good the book was and how she was missing it. 

Then I started to feel bad. I had my earbuds in. She had Airpods in. We were inches apart in the front seat, yet we were each doing our own thing. This was not what I had envisioned for our mother-daughter-bonding trip. I stopped the book, took out my earbuds, and started talking so much that she was forced to stop her own music to respond.

We completed the road trip not having heard any of the three recommended books. But the kid said she enjoyed her “vacation.” For that, I am thankful.

I finished The Nickel Boys a few days later. And yes, I raved about it to my daughter. I started Kindred, too, and I've already told her how much I think she’ll enjoy the book.

While I want to blast audiobooks throughout the house in hopes that my family will develop a strong desire to read or listen to great books, I’ve come to the realization that listening to audiobooks is more of my thing than theirs. I have to accept that everyone has their thing. And I have to accept that my children’s teachable moments are not always going to follow my lesson plans.