Bob Knight: Forever a Hoosier Icon

"I wish I could give you a little bit of an idea on what our starting lineup is going to be, but I can't. The Bloomington Faculty Council was supposed to have it to me by four o'clock this afternoon, but they got caught up in a debate over whether to put petunias or daffodils in a flower bed behind the old library building."
~Bob Knight on his radio show as the Indiana basketball coach


If Indiana had an icon, who would it be? Larry Bird? Oscar Robertson? Evan Baye? Richard Lugar? Amelia Earhart? David Letterman? John Mellencamp? Kurt Vonnegut? Of all those deserving candidates, are any of them more closely associated with and representative of the Hoosier state than Bob Knight? I doubt it. Knight was brilliant, fiercely loyal, and never boring. Perhaps most importantly in this state, he won a lot of basketball games (without resorting to cheating, reportedly), which is why many IU fans still revere him.

So almost midway into a semester of grad school and teaching, my mind took a little intellectual tangent away from academic articles and toward The General himself. I often arrive at the discourse a bit late, and this is no exception. The two books I read--John Feinstein's A Season on the Brink: A Year with Bob Knight and the Indiana Hoosiers and Steve Alford's Playing for Knight: My Six Seasons with Coach Knight--were written and published in the 1980s. Somehow it felt like getting in touch with my heritage. Fittingly, one of my favorite movies, Hoosiers, also came out during this time.

Feinstein's book was predictably better written, since he is a journalist, but Alford's work provided an interesting contribution as well. Everyone knows that Knight threw a chair onto the floor during a game later in Alford's career at IU, but one of my favorite anecdotes--"war stories" the IU players called them--was after an early-season loss to Purdue during Alford's freshman season when Knight kicked them out of the locker room for a few days, told the assistant coaches not to show up for practice, and told the players to coach themselves until their next game against Michigan State. "You didn't put enough effort into the Purdue game to deserve coaches and managers," he said, according to Alford. Knight quietly watched the practices that players designed. He also forced them to order their own transportation and a place to stay for the trip, though he relented on those plans after they executed them.

Alford, like so many other IU players that graduated, seems to reconcile the methods with the results. Feinstein is a little more detached, a little more objective. "In a good mood," he wrote, "there is no one in the world more delightful to be around (than Knight) because he is so bright, so well-read. In a a bad mood, there is no one worse." According to Alford, Knight--who gave Feinstein surprising access during the 1985-1986 season--wasn't thrilled with how Feinstein's book was written, although Alford claims it was accurate. The relationship between Knight and Feinstein apparently soured.

Could I have played for Knight? Well for one, I was good enough. But if I had been? I don't know. I probably wouldn't have handled his "mind games" very well, kicking players out of practice and such, riding the older players. Keeping my mouth shut has never been a strength. But then again, maybe I could have become one of those players who channeled my disgust into working harder and getting better. Who knows. Either way, I feel connected to him for what he for the sport I love in my state.

The Value of Diversity

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain." ~James Baldwin


"Diversity" has been a buzzword for all of my lifetime it seems, surely coming out of the various waves of historical movements like feminism, civil rights for racial minorities, and now, gay rights. In many venues, it has been presented in such a way that diversity is good, but some diversity is better than others, i.e. we want the foreigner, but not so much the conservative Republican or even, say, the mentally ill. The extent of the diversity also seemed really limited at times with all the focus on race or nationality and not enough said about religion or socioeconomic said. (Reading Wendell Berry's The Hidden Wound serves as one of the better exceptions to these trends in my own life.) That said, surely that I am a white male affects the way I receive these conversations the way I do.

But if talking about diversity has not always been a positive experience for me, interacting with diversity almost always has, whether it was friendships with African Americans growing up, attending a wealthy boarding school as a low-middle-income high schooler, visiting a Native American town a couple times in college, or teaching in a mostly-black school with Teach For America.

In a recent conversation with an African-American female friend, she offered one of the most compelling reasons for our needing diversity. She said that it was within her experiences with diversity that she is able to confront (and in the best circumstances, heal) her own biases, prejudices, and maybe even hatreds. For her, interacting with difference looks much different than it does for me because our backgrounds are not the same, but I do resonate with the need to interact with people who who are different than us. In TFA, we operated out of a similar assumption: we all have biases that affect the way we make decisions and interact with people.

It can go the other way, too, of course. That is to say, we can have a negative experience that reinforces our own stereotype. I'll offer two very different examples to illustrate my point. Let's say someone theoretically (or not so theoretically) grows up in the suburbs. As they grow up, they move to a city, and are, at some point, held up and robbed at night by a black male. Such an experience would probably reinforce a fearful prejudice that may already be there.

It can work the opposite way, too. Let's say said African American is admitted into and chooses to attend a mostly-white, elitist sort-of university. That person has trouble fitting in socially or struggles academically and maybe even bumps into a few racial incidents. Probably not going to affirm him or her that white people can be lovable or good.

As a more tangible example, think Juan Williams (an African American and former NPR employee who should never have been fired for admitting his own bias), admitting that when he gets on a plane he is consciously or subconsciously more nervous if he sits near a Muslim person. A very natural bias, birthed out of experience, that can probably only be healed by interacting with enough Muslims enough to learn a different pattern of engagement.

It is my theory that we develop these biases from either ignorance or negative experiences, and that the resentment builds as an avoidance of coming to grips with our own vulnerability. Most of us possess assumptions that are comparable to Williams', attitudes that can only heal through honest reflection and real interaction with people of another race or religion, or someone who has more or less money, or who plays a different sport or attends a different school. Diversity, in this sense, can make us more healthy and whole.

Valentine's Day 2012: "Do You Love Me?"

As hopefully you know, it's Valentine's Day, which I'm told comes from some Christian martyr in ancient Rome. I'd be lying if I pretended to know the story well. As for today's meaning, we could surely exaggerate it and become depressed by our aloneness or over-pleased by our relational glee or we could even criticize the day as just another commercial stunt, but what came to my mind this morning, for whatever reason, was a passage in the Gospel of John. The context then wasn't romantic or sexual in implication, but I do think it was very central to who we are as humans, and because of that, it has something to say to us even on Valentine's Day in 2012.

In verses 15-17, we find the following conversation between Jesus and Peter:

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.

Most of the analysis I've heard about this passage centers around Jesus's interesting and surely metaphorical response to Peter: "Feed my sheep." But my interest today is in the very question itself: "Do you love me?" I believe our question is the same. That is to say, we all possess a very deeply-rooted desire to be loved, even if we're unaware that the question motivates our subconsciousness.

Some of us act it out in very desperate, sad ways, others of us do it in the detached denial of someone who has been burned by love once (or many times) and is determined to never go there again. Sometimes the question and perceived answer drives us to depression, other times to sheer ecstasy. Sometimes the answer seems very plain and routine, but that we recognize the monotony in the first place indicates that the question is still there.

I believe we see evidence of the question also in our vice. When we do not feel loved or when we are too scared to risk love, we turn to all sorts of varieties of cheap substitutes, some more harmful than others. The degree of our addictions certainly varies, too, but the thread is still the same: Will you love me? Because if you won't, certainly Facebook will or my favorite television show or my achievement at work or the Notre Dame sports team that's in season or at least this food I'm about to consume. Surely "it" will fulfill my needs or at least cover up the absence of something--love--that's more fulfilling. We all do it, don't we?

This question--of our life, I suspect--puts us in a vulnerable place. We tremble at the possibilities of a pending answer. We wonder if someone could love even the unattractive parts of ourselves. May you, however, hear a resounding "yes" from the intimate people in your life today. Happy Valentine's Day!

Education and Purpose

"I wish there was at least some polite little perfunctory implication that knowledge should lead to wisdom, and that if it doesn't, it's just a disgusting waste of time!"
~Franny, in J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zoey

"Why don't all of us—the teachers and the students—try to take these books to heart, not just analyze them and then go on to the next book. We may be smarter, but are we better?"
~A student in Robert Cole's The Call to Stories

"Objectivity has come to be simply the academic uniform of moral cowardice: one who is 'objective' never takes a stand."
~Wendell Berry


Knowledge for knowledge's sake. I used to believe in it, but not so much anymore. Don't get me wrong: I love to inquire, to read, to discuss, to write. But only when their seems to be a connection to the life that I am living. I have little desire to hide in the corner of a library and read boring, detached academic journal articles whose meaning doesn't seem to connect. Sometimes, as a grad student, that gets me in trouble because I am more likely to express my disgust than I am to "play the game" well. There's usually a class per semester that challenges me in this way (and this semester is no exception).

One of the moments I recall that began to plant seeds toward a changed perception was a conversation a few years ago with a mentor with a PhD. He does quite a bit of writing, speaking, and teaching, but has never pursued a tenured professorship. "Why not?" I asked him. I've never forgotten his answer.

He told me it was because too much of university life exists on an island. In books, classrooms, and blocked off from the world by aesthetic gates. People live one life before college, another life in college, and an altogether different one after college. "There have been opportunities," he told me. "But I was always afraid I'd get too detached from real work and real people."

"You don't think you can find those things in the university setting?" I asked him.

"Too many times, no," he said.

As one who teaches and does much of his current work in adjunct cubicles, I know what he means. In academia we say things that would never fly outside our own walls, and that's sad. We try to get students to separate out their own life from the material they are studying: an impossible task and harmful one at that. My response to this kind of pedagogy, more often than not, is boredom.

But this is not to dismiss academia altogether. It plays an important role in life, mostly always has (in some capacity), and probably always will. It will undoubtedly be a part of my own professional pursuits in the future.

So what is the alternative vision? Let me first illustrate with an anecdote. As an undergraduate student at Anderson University, I took a microeconomics course, most of which definitely challenged my own ways of thinking. That is to say, I've always been a lot more interested in what something means than the scientific or the mathematical aspect of whatever that thing was. It's partially a weakness, I'll admit. But this particular professor made a habit out of writing two words on the board after solving various problems. "Who cares?" he would write. In other words: what is the point? why does this matter? what does it mean? And then he would go into his own diatribe of an answer.

What he was doing was connecting the objective to the subjective, the scientific to the humanities, the skill to the knowledge, the order to the wisdom. Rather than isolate, he believed in coherence. If it didn't mean anything than it wasn't worth learning. Not knowledge for knowledge's sake, but rather, to borrow the student's idea from quote in the Coles' book, knowledge to become better. Now that is a vision for education that I can live into for the long haul.

2012 Super Bowl: Maybe Sneaking into the Playoffs is Good Strategy

It happens every year. Teams that rolled all season and have wrapped up divisions and playoff home-field advantage begin resting starters to avoid injuries in weeks 15, 16, and 17. Almost inevitably, what had been the NFL's hottest teams just a few weeks earlier come out flat in the playoffs and go home early. Think this year's Packers. And to be fair, with this year as an exception, we've seen that in Indianapolis as much anyone has. Is there a connection between the "resting starters" and the going home early?

You'd have to be in a coma or hate football to not know that the New York Giants beat the New England Patriots 21-17 last night in the Indianapolis-hosted Super Bowl. Eli Manning bested his older brother's one Super Bowl win by doing what he's done all year: calmly driving his team into position to take the lead with less than one minute to go. Manning was assisted by Mario Manningham's version of "the catch," in what would become the Giants' sixth straight win to end the season. You see, after week 15, the Giants sat at 7-7, on the verge of missing out on the playoffs.

As I watched this Giants' team's impressive run, I thought back to the last time they won the Super Bowl (in 2008), and I checked and confirmed my suspicion: that team had not been good enough in the regular season to earn a first round bye, either. Is that a trend? At least two other teams immediately came to mind: last year's Packers (10-6 regular season, earned a wildcard playoff birth) and the only Colts' team during the Manning era that won the Super Bowl (finished 12-4 in the regular season, not good enough to earn a first-round bye).

So with a question forming (Something like, is it a mistake to rest players late in the season? Or: are teams that earn a first-round bye in the NFL playoffs really at a disadvantage?), I decided to do some quick Wikipedia research. For time's sake and because I'm really only interested for this question in the modern NFL game, I looked at every Super Bowl Champion since 2000. In what I already know is a small sample size, here is what I found.

Overall, it's a pretty mixed bag. Of the thirteen Super Bowl winners I considered, seven of them had earned a first-round bye. One of the more interesting cases was the 2010 Saints, which began their season 13-0, lost their last three, then recovered in time to snag a playoff run and a Super Bowl win. Of the six winners that came from a wildcard round, five have come in the past seven seasons. Only two teams that have won a Super Bowl since 2000 have had the best record during the regular season.

So maybe it's not enough to cast aside the "resting starters" philosophy, although recent Super Bowl winners definitely seem to be ones that don't. At the very least, though, we should be able to acknowledge that maybe a few losses during the regular season aren't really such a bad thing.

Super Bowl Excess?

I should start by saying I love football. My grandfather on my dad's side was a Hall of Fame high school coach in Wisconsin who won several state championships, so I guess you could say it's in my blood. (He's also a Notre Dame graduate, so maybe that explains my obsession with the Fighting Irish.) Anyway, I grew up playing the game, I probably spend too much time watching it in fall and winter, and I still enjoy a good recreational game. So I'm not out to hate on a sport that I love.

Also, there are degrees to which hosting the Super Bowl is terrific for Indianapolis, the city in which I currently live. Surely, there will be a short-term economic boost, and more than that, the city is benefiting from some excellent exposure, and so far is getting tremendous reviews for its hosting abilities. So I'm not out to hate on Indianapolis either.

Disclaimers aside, there is something that troubles me about this whole thing. The other night, I biked downtown with a couple of roommates, and we enjoying the outdoor concerts, checked out the Indy cars (painted as one NFL team each), and even drank an $8 beer. Which is the starting point of my uneasiness. Would it be possible, for example, for a legitimately poor person to participate without being irresponsible with all the hefty prices of foot, drinks, and games?

The Super Bowl is basically a week-long party. I like a celebration as much as anybody: good food, good drink, good people, maybe even a dance floor at the end of the night. But what exactly are we celebrating? The city? The end of a football season? My theory is that it's just an excuse to be drink too much, to blow off school and work, and probably most of all, to exploit. Houses are renting for thousands a dollars a night. Some people pay more than $100 to park for a day. That's a lot of wealth changing hands. There are people out there who are making bank off this thing, and I doubt it's the Indianapolis schools, hospitals, and charitable organizations.

It kind of reminds me an amusement park experience, which has never settled well with me either. Spend a bunch of money in a place you don't know, eat a bunch of bad food, wait in long lines for one-minute rides, then go home. Or what I imagine a cruise to be like, since I've never been on one before. But some friends of mine that have come back bragging how much they ate and drink and how much weight they gained. Excess. The ultimate gluttony. I'm not so sure the big Super Bowl party is not essentially the same thing.

There is also reason to believe that the prostitution industry bolsters its presence and activity during this week, which is even more troubling. And even more exploitative. I was glad to see that Indiana's governor Mitch Daniels and his legislature has tried to act in a preventative manner, but it also be great if some of the players or coaches came out and spoke against this.

All this said, there's almost no doubt in my mind that I'll watch the big game on Sunday (and cheer hard against the Patriots!). I may even join the party downtown one more time on Friday night. But I do so with mixed feelings at best. I just think there are better ways to celebrate than this.

"The Vegabond Artist Just Making Things Happen": An Interview with Zachary Shields

Zach Shields and I first met as high school baseball teammates, but have crossed paths in Indianapolis several times in the past couple years. I have become quite interested in his video storytelling work. He's employed by Canteloupe TV and will also do some teaching this spring at the Indianapolis Art Center. He also works on a variety of independent solo projects, which you can find on the web. He and I recently sat down at the Indianapolis Winter Farmers' Market to discuss some of his work.

Chris: Zach, several years ago, I noticed some attention you got for a documentary you shot in Indonesia. What prompted that trip and looking back what did it mean to you?

Zach: It's funny because we won a Webby award for that thing, so we ended up at an awards ceremony, and there we were along with Arianna Huffington, Thomas Friedman, and Prince. That's funny because of the way it all happened. A few of my buddies were volunteering over there after the tsunami, and they wanted me to take a semester off to come help. Well, I couldn't do that, but I had a capstone project I had to do for school, so I decided to go extreme by going over and shooting stuff for six weeks to see if I could find a story. I had no idea how to create something like that. Most of my work to that point had actually been messing around with animation. I didn't even know what YouTube was. The timing worked out, though, and it became a real life crash course. The project culminated in a fund-raising effort to pay for two girls who over there who needed a surgery. It really motivated me to take on something like that again.

Chris: After browsing some of your work, it's apparent your work has taken you to some pretty neat places: Indonesia, Bolivia, Haiti, Alaska even. If you could go back to any of those places, where would it be.

Zach: Definitely Indonesia. I'd love to see what it looks like now. I went six months after the tsunami, so it wasn't complete chaos. It was my first project, and I'm not sure I'll ever have another trip like it. I basically went by myself without knowing what I was doing, and I was surrounded by the affects of one of the worst natural disasters in recorded history. I learned a lot about life, about understanding situations, about working with people, and about realizing when someone is just trying to rip you off. So many memorable moments. Right before I flew back, I almost got stranded on an island. The guy who brought me over ditched me to hang out with his girlfriend. It was the kind of place where a boat comes and goes every three days. I had to get pretty forceful to get people to listen to me.

Chris: Your work seems to broach all sorts of topics from disaster relief to Martin Luther King's death to fly fishing. Can you walk me through the creative process a little bit? How do you come up with an idea and how do you move forward from there?

Zach: It's pretty opportunistic, although I do like to work on community-based stuff. The stuff I do on the side just comes to me; threre's rarely much time to plan it all out. I love that aspect. Figuring in out as you go. It's the most exciting part. Sometimes it doesn't seem to be going anywhere at first, but it's great to see it all come together at the end.

Chris: You're a pretty talented person and surely there have been or will leave Indianapolis. Why stay here?

Zach: It's funny you ask that question because I almost left last August for a job in D.C. The money was better, and I love D.C. But I just couldn't do it. For a while, all I wanted to do was leave. But it can be pretty draining to live like that, being in a place but wanting to be elsewhere. So at some point I just decided that if I were ever going to be happy, I just needed to get involved, get to know the people here. Indy is a good place to do that, whether it's the coolest place on earth or not. I've seen people make this happen for themselves, and I've tried to be a part of it. I don't think as much any more about making more money or living somewhere else. And Indy has changed for the better in the eight years I've lived here. Fountain Square, the market, neighborhoods being revitalized, public art, concerts, even the Super Bowl. I enjoy hosting visiting friends a lot more now when they come.

Chris: Let's talk vision for a moment. If we sit back down at this table as retired grandpas in fifty years, what would would you hope to have accomplished in between?

Zach: I hope we do that. I think about the future a lot, and it stresses me out. But don't have a set career path in mind. Career paths can almost be a barrier because you begin to think in terms of what am I going to get out of every situation. I used to be like that. But when I stopped, I started doing better work, and what do you know, people will often pay you when you do better work. Although, I know I'm lucky to have a consistent job, and that gives me more freedom than some people have. I want to do this stuff that we're talking about: be involved, know the people around me, tell good stories. I'm fortunate to be surrounded by a core group of friends who care about this stuff, too. I hope the career takes care of itself.

Chris: What are you working on currently?

Zach: I'm about to kick off a project called Play Indy. It's going to be a crowd-sourced documentary in Central Indiana. I'm going to have people submit clips of how they play, whatever that looks like. Doing stuff for the sake of doing it. It could be anything. The idea came to me out of the Spirit-Place Festival in November. It's really interesting topic to me; there are scientific and economic arguments for this sort of thing. We need to create, we need to make; we need to explore. I want it to be super local grassroots solicitation and with investment from a variety of people. I don't want many barriers. The website, www.playindyfilm.com, be up in a few weeks.

Chris: Sounds like a neat project. Thanks a lot, Zach. Before you go, I gotta ask: Patriots or Giants?

Zach: I'm hoping the Giants win because I get a really bad vibe from Bill Belichick. I just don't like the guy. Plus, a Manning's in town, so I hope he wins.

Chris: I hope so, too.

Trouble in Paradise: Does Peyton Manning Really Want to Stay in Indianapolis?

The Peyton Manning saga continues. Last August, I sat through a Colts' training camp practice at Anderson University. It was a sweaty day, and Manning wasn't practicing, so I left early, disappointed. Admittedly, I'm a Bears' fan first, despite the fact that I live in Indianapolis, but as a sports fan, even I would have relished such an opportunity to see one of the best quarterbacks in the history of the NFL (a career completion percentage of 65% for almost 55,000 yards, 399 touchdown passes, and 198 interceptions, all with the Colts) from that close. The organization didn't seem to be saying much about Manning, and he'd had a recent surgery, but still, I expected him to be ready and starting for the season opener.

But the Colts' dropped a bomb in September by announcing that Manning would be out for the season after his third neck surgery. They signed Kerry Collins to replace him, and we all know how well (read: terrible) that went. The Colts' slid in impressive fashion from division favorite to a disastrous 2-14 record, using three inept quarterbacks along the way. The slide coincided with the same season for which the Super Bowl was (is) to be located in Indianapolis, with the AFC spot painfully being filled by the hated Patriots.

All the while, speculations about and by Manning continued. Rumors circulated that Manning wanted to play before the season ended, although he never did. With "Suck for Luck" bumper stickers thriving throughout the city, Peyton's father, Archie Manning, went on record to say he didn't think Manning and Luck could exist on the same roster. Shortly after, he retracted his statement.

Meanwhile, the Colts' season ended without earning a playoff invitation for the first time since the 2001 season. Owner Jim Irsay said goodbye to general manager Bill Polian and head coach Jim Caldwell. Actor Rob Lowe caused quite the stir by tweeting that Peyton Manning was going to retire, although his sources now seem to have been misguided.

All this led to the latest part of the drama: Manning's candid comments about the Colts this week, which Irsay apparently didn't appreciate. Peyton did say, "It's well-documented that I want to play in the same place my whole career." But he also said things like "I'm not in a very good place for healing, let's say that. It's not a real good environment down there right now, to say the least. Everybody's walking around on eggshells. I don't recognize our building right now. There's such complete and total change."

My response after reading some of the interview--even before Irsay responded--was that's really weird. Why is he saying this stuff publicly? It almost sounds like he's shopping himself. Making himself available, indirectly, for any teams that might be interested. Readying himself for any change that might be coming. And how healthy is he anyway?

Will the Colts trade Manning? Does he want to be traded? We'll certainly find out soon, but if the organization was smart, they'd think back to a model Green Bay (accidentally?) used not too long ago with Brett Farve and Aaron Rogers. Go ahead draft Luck (or even RG3 from Baylor), but if Manning's healthy, the job is his, at least for another couple years or so. Peyton mentors the youngster, until he retires--with tears in his and all his fans' eyes--and the Colts already have their next franchise leader.

Then, maybe someday Peyton gets named the head coach in the same organization for which he quarterbacked. A pipe dream? Maybe. Oh, if only egos weren't involved...

The Power of the Authenticating Detail

In the late John Gardner's The Art of Fiction, he gives us advice that can either liberate or exasperate the writer. "The search for aesthetic absolutes is a misapplication of the writer's energy," he tells us. Instead--and this is much more difficult--"all legitimate questions raised in the reader's mind must be answered, however subtly, inside the work." How's that for a task? To get there, there are "no rules" but lots of techniques, he says. And the writer "must read widely and deeply and must write not just carefully but continually."

In class, we used the language of "authenticating detail" as one the key skills and judgements a writer must possess. What is sitting on the protagonist's desk? What is hanging on the wall? How does he or she respond to a broken relationship or to a death? What is in his or her past? What is his or her mother like? How does he or she act when in anger?

It would be an interesting lens with which to read. In class, we discussed Joyce Carol Oates short story, "ID," by asking why she uses the details she does. It becomes so obvious that there is "method to the madness." I can imagine that if I reread some of my own favorite books--Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow, J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye, Jonathan Franzen's Freedom, Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose, or Philip Roth's American Pastoral--in the light of "authenticating details" that I would have a similar experience. The details effective writers choose are not accidents.

As writers, these details must be purposeful, that is to say they must work for us, they must be believable, and they should anticipate and answer the reader's questions. Sometimes, often probably, that means subjecting our work in the hands of good critics, objective ones and not just our mothers and best friends who will undoubtedly praise us for everything we do.

It is not work for the faint of heart, apparently. In my arrogance, I had no idea there was so much to learn about the writing craft, but I am enjoying this season of soaking it all up and soliciting lots of criticism for my own work. As Gardner warns us, writing is more than self-expression.

Low-Income Education and Renaissance Reading with Mike Rumbaugh: An Interview

Chris: Mike, we met in Jacksonville as Teach For America corps members. What did you learn during those two years about the teaching profession?

Mike: Yikes. What a first question! For the sake of your readers I will keep it short with just one takeaway from my last four years working in education.

We have to separate teaching in a low-income school from teaching elsewhere. They are different jobs that require different skill sets. Putting a student, who faces all of the disadvantages and institutionalized racism of being a poor minority in this country, on the path towards college is completely different from taking a white, middle-class kid and keeping him or her on the path towards college. Those two jobs are entirely different and should be treated as such. Lumping all educators into one box hurts all teachers, even though it doesn’t hurt all students. Mostly, it hurts students of color who are unlucky enough to be born into disadvantaged communities.

Chris: Do you have a favorite memory from Jacksonville, teaching or otherwise?

Mike: There are too many to count but I will list a few that come to mind:

1) Sunday afternoon football with you, D-Mitch, Weston, Gravier, Phil, Dorrien, Richard, Garrett and the rest of the crew.

2) Beach days with Feezor, Weston, Jameson, Richard, Keyairra and the bunch.

3) The first days of induction. When the 55 of us were still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with literally no clue what we were getting ourselves into. It was a great time to meet everyone, hear everyone’s background and really be thrust into a community we didn’t know very well.

Chris: You've spent the last two years working with and developing new teachers, but last I checked you weren't going to continue on past this year in that line of work. Any idea what's next?

Mike: The daunting "whats next" question (laughs). This is on my mind constantly and probably gives me the most heartache day to day. Although I am trying to just be happy in the moment, instead of planning to be happy in the future, "whats next" ultimately comes up in nearly every conversation I have.

Currently I am trying to get my stuff together to apply to business school for the Fall of 2012. With work and life and getting such a late start it’s really hard at the moment but I am hoping to pull it all together. If not than business school will be the goal for fall of 2013 and in the interim I will move back to Philly and work with TFA there, look for a job outside of education, or even take a year off to ski and enjoy the Rocky Mountains.

Chris: You mention Philly, which I know is where you’re from. What do you miss the most from there?

Mike: The people. The underdog attitude. The chip on the collective city’s shoulder. The vulgarity. The history. The corruption. Cheese steaks and Yuengling. Lorenzos. Temple. Big 5 Basketball. Watching Eagles fans melt down year in and year out, since I was born and raised a Steelers’ fan.

Chris: I know you're a reader. What are you reading these days and why?

Mike: My dad recently described me as a renaissance reader, which I thought was accurate in a way. I’ve usually got several different genres going at one time, so here’s a sample:

Why are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? by Beverly Tatum was assigned for work and I absolutely love it. It’s a must-read for white people or anyone who works in education, especially in low-income communities. Go buy the book right now if you can.

I have to prepare for business school somehow, so I’m also reading Case Studies and Cocktails.

All the Kings Men by Robert Penn Warren is American literature at its finest, weaving two topics together that I love: corrupt politicians and Louisiana.

I’m also enjoying some stunning poetry by Phillip Levine on the life and times of working class citizens in Detroit. The title is What Work Is.

Lastly, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith. What better way to escape then to read a fictional (or is it?!!) tale of how Abraham Lincoln’s main driving force in life was ridding the world (i.e. United States) of vampires to avenge his mother’s death.

Chris: I don’t think we could script a better place to end than that, Mike. Thanks!