As always, I loved hearing the story I know so well from a new perspective. I was very intrigued by the reasons Mr. March gave for heading off to the Civil War at an unusually late age, why the March family found themselves in the poverty we know from the original novel. I enjoyed getting to know Marmee before the birth of the little women and better understand the woman who told Jo that she, too, fought to keep her temper under control. Having read and watched biographies on Louisa and the entire Alcott family, I constantly drew connections between the stories and the histories, wondering what actually passed through their minds and if these fictional thoughts were anywhere near their true ones. I was thoroughly excited when an unexpected narrator entered the scene for a handful of chapters in the middle. This novel adds a new dimension to the March story that Alcott never intended to divulge, but that fed my appetite for more that I hadn't realized existed until the opportunity presented itself.
Many of the passages about teaching stood out to me, especially because I finished the book as I finished my fifth year of teaching. In history, Bronson Alcott rubbed elbows with the Transcendentalists, and he was passionate about the educational process. In the story, Mr. March said that while teaching, his "objective was to awaken their [the students'] hearts to the ideas dormant there, rather than implant facts into their memory" (p. 142). Here he speaks of teaching those who were considered contraband during the Civil War -- people who had been slaves but whom the Union forces had freed; although living a lot far different than my students, I feel a responsibility to accomplish the same goal. I see so much more to accomplish with my students than teaching them the correct steps of graphing a polynomial equation, much more that involves what is within my students already. Marmee reminds Mr. March, too, that, "[t]he education you gave to so many, that cannot be taken away" (p. 257). Not only do I take comfort in that thought, but I also think back to the earlier quote...the content we tackle beyond standards-based instruction is probably the material that will remain even when the quadratic formula has faded. And this is what I need to remember on the difficult days, on the days when I wonder what exactly is going on in my classroom. In all I do, I aim to awaken dormant ideas about students' self-perception, students' perception of one another, and students' perception of the rest of the world.
As the army chaplain, Mr. March also deals with matters of the spirit, as did Mr. Alcott in his day. Here, though, Brooks speaks through the character Grace Clement, a former slave who faced demons Mr. March can hardly fathom. She tells him,
"I do not ask your absolution. I simply ask you to see that there is only one thing to do when we fall,
and that is to get up, and go on with the life that is set in front of us, and try to do the good of which
our hands are capable for the people who come in our way. That, at least, has been my path" (p. 268).
Sometimes I read a passage and find myself thinking, "This is my heart. These are the words I've been looking for to describe my aim." I suppose that is why I preferred majoring in English literature and not creative writing; I take great comfort in knowing someone else out there feels or thinks the way I do. This is how I felt when I read Grace's clarification for Mr. March. As a recovering perfectionist, the standing back up part is most difficult, but focusing on doing good for others does help with the motivation to do so.
As I read the final pages, I was sad to leave the March family once again. I'd slipped back into their world, unexpectedly, and I enjoyed it as I always have. I think I understand Laurie a little bit from the original novel, who frankly tells Jo that he simply knew he was supposed to be a part of their family; Brooks's novel has helped me do just that once again.
Next up, my report from China!...
No comments:
Post a Comment