26.4.23

Celebrating 1,000 Posts: Reflecting on My Blogging Journey on Stones of Erasmus (Is it a Milestone Worth Celebrating? Yes! I Think it Is.)

Celebrating 1,000 posts on Stones of Erasmus! From poetry to lesson plans, join me in reflecting on my journey as a writer and educator.

1,000 Blog Posts Later
Writing my 1,000th post for my blog, Stones of Erasmus, is a milestone that I find challenging to write about. I started this blog when I was still a Benedictine monk, and it has stayed with me through various life changes, including my stint as a high school English teacher in New Orleans, my time at the New School for Social Research, and my New York City sojourn.

Initially, my blog was a mishmash of embarrassing pieces of poetry and ersatz literary criticism, sprinkled in with some theology and movie reviews. Over time, my blog has evolved and become more focused. Although it still includes some of those early elements, such as movie reviews and records of my visits to random art museums, it now features a lot of educational content related to my teaching career.

One of my earliest obsessions was making things up, and my journey as a teacher has allowed me to indulge that passion. I create digital educational resources such as clip art and lesson plans that I share on my blog. I also write about my creations, sharing my experiences with my readers.

A Writer's Blog As An Excuse To Journal
Writing on my blog has also allowed me to indulge in another childhood obsession: keeping a journal. I still have my first spiral notebook, which contains my first journal entries from the end of my fifth-grade year through the monotony of sixth grade. As an adult, I have only read it once. However, I am considering adding it to my blog, which would be a fun and nostalgic experience.

Answering Questions from My Students
Some of my high school students have asked me about my blog, such as whether I make any money. The answer is yes and no. I used to use AdWords from Google, but I stopped using it. My blog does make money, but it is minimal, around one hundred dollars a year. The income comes from people clicking on a link to one of the digital educational resources I sell, such as my popular lesson plan on teaching Plato's Allegory of the Cave to middle and high school kids.

The Future of Blogging
Another student asked me why I continue to write my blog when long-form writing appears dead. My blog is more permanent than other forms of social media, and I enjoy the idea that more people are likely to stumble upon it, whether through a Google search or a link somewhere. I am always surprised when old posts receive a resurgence, such as a post I wrote years ago about words from Greek mythology or a post I wrote about The Iliad, which has remained popular for some reason. The difference between long-form blogging and other types of content on the internet is that blog writers offer a unique perspective on things. I enjoy reading other blogs, such as those written by nannies or teachers, because they share their personal experiences, which is powerful.

As my blog has evolved, I have also learned some important lessons about writing. One of the most important lessons is to keep writing, even when I do not like it. I easily get discouraged when I get few views or comments on my blog. However, I have learned that if I keep writing, eventually, people will discover my work, and it will find an audience.

Another lesson I have learned is the importance of editing. Writing is a process that takes time to craft a well-written post. I often write several drafts before I am happy with the final version. It is also essential to proofread my work carefully, looking for spelling and grammatical errors. Reading my work out loud is helpful, as this helps me catch mistakes I might have missed otherwise.

Finally, I have learned that blogging is a community activity. Blogging is not just about writing for myself but also about connecting with others with similar interests.

Drum roll, please.
Here are my favorite selections from Stones of Erasmus (in no particular order):

22.4.23

Clip Art: A Boy Akimbo Pondering Dasein

A portrait of an adolescent boy looking askance at the camera, discussing the beauty of wonder and being against the backdrop of dasein.

Source: Created by Stones of Erasmus, claymation (with digital elements added by open-source artificial intelligence). This image is created and made with love by Stones of Erasmus (stonesoferasmus.com).

Update: I created a remix.

6.4.23

The Ineluctable Bond of Two Boys Broken: Movie Review of Close (2022)

In this post, I write a spoiler-y review of the 2022 Belgian film Close. This review is meant for after viewing the film.
Image Credit: Diaphana Films
Close Garners Accolades on the Film Prize Circuit
Have you recently watched the Belgian film Close (2022), directed by Lukas Dhont and starring two incredible young actors, Eden Dambrine and Gustav De Waele? The movie was highly acclaimed, nominated for an Academy Award, and won the prestigious Grand Prix at the Cannes film festival. The story is a tragic one about two boys. Having read multiple stories of queer, questioning, and gay young people killed or dying of unsuspecting causes, I went into the film with skepticism. For example, I loved the novel Absolute Brightness by James Lecesne — but, again, it is a story of a young, bright, young person who dies because of hatred and homophobia. But I digress — in this story of two young boys who live in a small Flemish town near the flower fields of Brabant, the story is more about adolescent male friendship than anything else. 
I Did Harbor Some Assumptions (I Confess)
        After watching the trailer, I confess I assumed that the blonde-haired boy, Leo (played by Dambrine), was the more fragile of the two. He appears smaller, in contrast, to Remi (played by De Wael), even though in real life, the former is several years older than the latter, and during filming, De Wael had to wear platform shoes to appear taller than Dambrine. And in an interesting backstory, Lukas Dhont discovered Dambrine on a train, conversing with friends, and asked him to audition for the part — which he did. All of this to say, while my original assumption was wrong, the film is very much about the character of Leo, both in his friendship with Remi, which only takes up less than half the film, and the micro-steps that follow the boys' breakup.
The Exposition of a Boys' Friendship 
       The movie portrays two thirteen-year-old boys with an unbreakable bond. They are kindred spirits, and their connection is unexplainable. A beautiful scene sets up the friends' bond where Leo, as they both cannot sleep on a summer evening, tells Remi a story about a gecko and its colors. Remi lights up as Leo tells the story, and the camera is positioned intimately close to the two. Film trumps other forms of narrative works where the body, the face, can tell a story, and I was drawn into the ease of their facial expressions and how comfortable the two adolescents are in each other's presence. Leo, in this scene, is portrayed as a poetic and sensitive soul, and his monologue foreshadows what will come. I thought Remi would reject Leo, but it was the reverse. 
        Their friendship is exposed to the public eye of their peers. Once they start going to a new school, the other kids make note of the boys' friendship and ask if they are a couple. Despite their kindred and beautiful connection, the question "Are you together?" is enough to put a blunt edge between the two kids' bond. In my head, I thought Leo took it to heart and had a more difficult time dealing with that. But actually, in the movie, Leo is more riled up about the accusation and pushes Remi, the other boy, away. The two boys detonate internally, each in their own unique way, and a gulf begins to split between them. It is in this splitting apart that the film attempts to explore.
An Inexplicable Event Happens. 
         There is a field trip, and Remi is not there. The kids go to the ocean and return, and Leo discovers that Remi has committed suicide. Leo runs frantically, heaving, and arrives at Remi's house, but no one is home, and he sees the door to the bathroom has been busted open. And he knows. In a scene earlier in the movie, Remi was in the bathroom and wouldn't come out, and the mother kept banging on the door. It was after Leo and Remi had a fight. It is evident now. As Leo stares into the window of the empty house, Remi is no longer here. And this is where the story becomes not one of a beautiful friendship but a story of a piece missing, of Leo's tortured journey. And Remi's mother — it was the mother who discovered her son. And when Leo discovers that Remi was in the bathroom when he committed suicide, he internalizes it as his fault.
         Leo goes through the motions. He silently attends his friend's funeral. Leo's emotional journey is acute and raw as he tries to find solace in his older brother and silently deals with his feelings at hockey practice and in class. Leo's guilt and sense of responsibility for Remi's death are palpable, and it is painful to watch a child suffer in such a way. He has to listen as other kids talk superficially about Remi. One boy mentions that Remi seemed happy, but Leo breaks the silence and questions whether the boy really knew. "Was he happy? did you know?" Leo asks and storms out of the room. A counselor comes to talk to the middle school class, but the guilt on Leo takes a toll on him. He befriends another boy on his hockey team, but their friendship differs from his friendship with Remi. Leo finds ways to confront or be with Remi's mother, who is also obviously dealing with her grief. And in this part, the story feels fragile and raw — because, as a viewer, I did not know who would break first, Leo or the mother.
The Question of "Why?"
        The film raises several questions, such as why Leo was not kinder to Remi, why Remi did not seek help from his loving parents, and why it all ended horrifically. Leo is so shaken by it viscerally, but he is still so young that he cannot verbalize his feelings. Remi is dead, and that reality is painful enough, but Leo also holds on to this feeling that he is responsible for his friend's death. A child should not have to go through this type of suffering, right? However, the director slowly turns the viewer's attention to Leo and his struggle to deal with his friend's death without providing easy answers to the "why" of it. The film culminates in an inevitable confrontation between Remi's mother and Leo, which provides a sense of closure, but not resolution. The scene is in the woods, the trees serving as a backdrop of both characters' pain — a place set away from the real world of school, family, and home. Without giving away too many details, this is how the film ends.
Closing Remarks
        The movie's personal and emotional performance from the cast is remarkable, and the actors spent a lot of time together processing the story's magnitude. The film's title, "Close," hits home, portraying the story of two boys who cling to each other. I could identify with the boys — as I, too, had close friendships growing up, and I think this is a phenomenon that many young men experience. Leo and Remi express their feelings about society's bias about close male friendships when girls at lunch call out the boys' friendship, but they first retort, "Well, what about girls? You can have a girly friendship," and no one says anything. The worst crime a society can commit is snuffing out love between two people. I felt like Leo and Remi hold an ineluctable bond that is intense, loving, and special. It is not a gay story, specifically, but one of love, friendship, and the dissolution of those bonds. And it is that dissolution that cries out to heaven for justice.
       I finished the movie visibly shaken. I had not felt this emotionally challenged by a movie about love and connections lost since the 2017 film Call Me By Your NameAs a viewer, one can bring their own emotions and experiences to the film, and "Close" explores the complexities of friendship, guilt, and grief, especially among young boys. It sheds light on toxic masculinity, its impact on society, and the intensity of friendships at a young age. Overall, "Close" is a poignant film that leaves a lasting impact and is a deserving nominee for an Academy Award.
Stray Observations
  • The film boasts the debut of the two actors Eden Dambrine and Gustav De Waele.
  • The working title was "We Two Boys Together Clinging," which is the title of a poem by Walt Whitman, which inspired the work of artist David Hockney.
  • The film reflects Belgium's linguistic diversity, with French and Flemish spoken due to the country's small size and the presence of Dutch, Flemish, French, English, and German in daily conversation.
  • The small Flemish town where the film is shot is called Wetteren in East Flanders.
  • I lived in Belgium for over a year as a student at K.U.L. in Leuven.
Close (2022)
Diaphana Distribution
Directed by Lukas Dhont
Starring Eden Dambrine, Gustav De Waele, Léa Drucker, and Émilie Dequenne
Original Screenplay by Lukas Dhont and Angelo Tijssens.

5.4.23

Creation Myths of Ancient India: World Mythology Series for the Middle and High School Humanities Classroom

Teaching creation myths from ancient India can be an exciting way to engage middle and high school students in the Humanities or English Language Arts classroom. It provides an opportunity to explore different cultures, beliefs, and worldviews. In this post, we will delve into the significance of creation myths and explore some examples of creation myths from ancient India.

I discuss how to teach creation myths from ancient India to middle and high school students in a Humanities or English Language Arts classroom.
From the soaring Himalayas to the tropical coastline,
the Indian subcontinent's diverse geography
has shaped India's rich and complex history.

Creation myths are an integral part of human history and culture. They are stories that explain how the world came into being and how humans, gods, and other beings came to exist. Ancient India is rich in mythology and has a plethora of creation myths that provide a unique perspective on the universe's origin.

What is a Creation Myth?

A creation myth is a traditional story that explains how the universe, Earth, and all living things came into existence. These myths are often considered sacred and passed down through generations. Creation myths vary across cultures, but they all share a common thread: they attempt to answer fundamental questions about the nature of existence and our place in the world.

Creation Myths from Ancient India

India has a rich and diverse tradition of creation myths. These myths are drawn from Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and other religions that originated in India. Here are a few examples of creation myths from ancient India:

The Rig Veda Creation Myth: This is one of the oldest creation myths in India, dating back to around 1500 BCE. It tells the story of the god Prajapati, who creates the world by sacrificing himself.

The Puranas Creation Myth: The Puranas are a collection of ancient Hindu texts that describe the creation of the universe. They tell the story of the god Brahma, who creates the world by meditating on the lotus flower that grows from the navel of the god Vishnu.

The Buddhist Creation Myth: In Buddhist mythology, the universe goes through
Ancient India boasts a host of creation myth traditions.

cycles of creation and destruction. The creation of the universe is said to begin when the Buddha Amitabha creates a pure land, a perfect world where beings can attain enlightenment.

The Jain Creation Myth: In Jainism, the universe is eternal and has no beginning or end. However, it constantly changes, and beings are reborn in different forms. The universe is divided into six realms, including the human realm, the animal realm, and the realm of the gods.

Teaching Creation Myths from Ancient India

Teaching creation myths from ancient India can be a fun and interactive experience for students. Here are a few tips for incorporating these myths into your Humanities or English Language Arts curriculum:
  1. Provide Context: Before diving into the creation myths, provide students with some background on ancient India, its religions, and its culture. This will help students understand the significance of these myths and appreciate their cultural and historical context.
  2. Engage in Close Reading: Read the creation myths with your students and encourage them to analyze the language, themes, and symbols used in the text. This can be a great way to build critical thinking and analysis skills.
  3. Compare and Contrast: Compare and contrast the creation myths from ancient India with creation myths from other cultures. This can help students see the similarities and differences between different worldviews and gain a broader perspective on human history and culture.
  4. Explore Art and Literature: Creation myths from ancient India have inspired a wealth of art and literature. Encourage students to explore visual art, literature, and music that are inspired by these myths. This can be a great way to connect with the myths on a deeper level and explore their cultural significance.
Conclusion

Teaching creation myths from ancient India can be an enriching and enlightening experience for middle and high school students. It provides an opportunity to explore different cultures, beliefs, and worldviews and to build critical thinking and analysis skills. 

Feel free to check out my TpT store, where you can purchase my unique lesson plan on teaching creation myths from ancient India!

I sell a ton of Humanities-based educational digital downloads on my TpT store and on Made by Teachers. Check 'em out!