The team leaders at the National Writing Project are engaging us in some fascinating online lessons about teaching argument writing. Two recent lessons had us layering texts, messing around with how an idea might change. We participated in the text examination and the writing just as we would have our students do in order to prepare us for what might happen in the classroom. However, I was not prepared for the deeply personal lesson I was to experience.
We began with a quick free-write exploring what we thought about reality TV. My first thought was that I watched very little--I have no idea on what channel the Real Housewives reside, and the desert island survivalists have faced all those challenges without me watching. But then I remembered the years I have faithfully watched Dancing with the Stars and my list expanded to include Master Chef, Design Star, Food Network Star, American Idol--shows that demonstrate anyone, including me, can become a superstar.
I viewed these shows benignly. What's wrong with imagining that I can do anything--design the perfect room, create an amazing dish, sing in public?
But then I began examining texts, and I watched my thinking evolve. In a promo for Dance Moms, I noticed the scowling female adult, dressed in black, fronting the beaming girls and their mothers, all dressed in white. The trophy held by the mean-spirited instructor has been snapped in two, supporting the theme that second place is not acceptable. I read a study conducted by the Girl Scouts showing that girls who watched a greater number of hours of reality TV were meaner, and I began to think about how my favorite reality shows edit their productions to highlight the whiners, the untalented, the participants willing to throw the other contestants under the bus. Master Chef encourages strategizing to take advantage of a contestant's lack of knowledge of a particular culinary style.
In another text, a blogger suggests that reality TV is the new family TV, drawing busy families together in front of the television set. For a brief moment, I agreed with the author and cheered this Ward and June Cleaver family moment, but then I thought of my own home and what gets displaced when I sit with my husband in front of the TV, foolishly thinking these are the moments that hold our marriage together. When we watch TV on the opposite ends of our double reclining couch, we are not eating together, walking together, or talking together. Let's bring back family dinners instead.
Realizing that my TV watching habits were unexamined, I have quit watching TV. Indiscriminate TV watching is not in keeping with the life of mindfulness I wish to live. After a long period of being away from the piano, I startled myself by playing for extended periods of time. I finished another book and prepared a Greek dish that requires an hour of preparation and numerous cooking pots. I am gleefully considering a long list of other activities for which I now have more time.
For about a year now, I have been thinking and writing about my values and trying to align my practices with them. The majority of television shows, and reality TV shows in particular, do not support collaboration and cooperation, and I am increasingly recognizing the value of those practices. I was raised a pacifist; it's time to pay more than lip service to my upbringing. This year I won't be idolizing any fresh-faced singer, and the stars will dance without me. Messing around with text has sorted itself out after all.
