Over the last few years, there have been a few topics I would have liked to write my thesis about, instead of the French educational system. One of these fantasy theses would compare country music to hip hop. Though one is rural while the other is urban, and one has mostly White artists while the other has mostly Black artists, both represent minority cultures that value what is looked down upon by mainstream culture. In their songs, they assert the validity of their nondominant cultural references.
A few examples from country songs:
"Just a boy in a pickup truck with a tendency of getting stuck" (Taylor Swift)
"You were hangin' your feet off the tailgate of Billy Don's Ford" (Julianne Hough)
"I ain't never seen a country boy with tires on his truck this high" (Jake Owen)
There are definite parallels between these references and references to bling, cars, and certain neighborhoods in hip hop as signs of cultural authenticity. ("I am truly country/hood.") However, country music tends to express more nostalgia for rural Southern culture, while hip hop paints a decidedly more negative portrait of urban environments, historically to raise awareness about social problems. These trends vary from song to song, of course, which is why it would take a thesis (or book) to thoroughly compare and contrast the two music genres.
The only time I have seen country and hip hop come together is "Over and Over Again," by Nelly and Tim McGraw. Watch it here. If only the two were bridged more often...
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Adventures in Korea
Highlight: Krispy Kreme, Mister Donut, and Dunkin Donuts are within a block of where I work. Oh snap.
Disappointment: Costco is not very cheap here. Nor are electronics.
Thank you to all the Korean people who have been nice to me. Specifically:
*Gas station attendant emphatically gesturing "Chuk!" to point me towards the supermarket.
*Himart salesperson who drew me a map of where to go.
*Supermarket salesperson who followed me around until I realized you were handing me free laundry detergent samples.
*Student who surprised me with coffee on the day when I needed it most.
Disappointment: Costco is not very cheap here. Nor are electronics.
Thank you to all the Korean people who have been nice to me. Specifically:
*Gas station attendant emphatically gesturing "Chuk!" to point me towards the supermarket.
*Himart salesperson who drew me a map of where to go.
*Supermarket salesperson who followed me around until I realized you were handing me free laundry detergent samples.
*Student who surprised me with coffee on the day when I needed it most.
Musing: The thing about teaching
The assumption behind programs like Teach for America is that smart people, even if they have no teaching experience, can make good teachers. I have always been skeptical of this assumption, because going to Harvard has nothing to do with your ability to teach. However, my first week in Korea has taught me that you can be a decent teacher if you are "smart" in that:
You think quickly on your feet
You know the material so well, you can explain it multiple ways
You can analyze mistakes and immediately identify the conceptual problem
You sound knowledgeable
Even then, only professional development and experience can teach you how to manage and discipline a class of 30 students effectively. So the TFA skepticism remains.
You think quickly on your feet
You know the material so well, you can explain it multiple ways
You can analyze mistakes and immediately identify the conceptual problem
You sound knowledgeable
Even then, only professional development and experience can teach you how to manage and discipline a class of 30 students effectively. So the TFA skepticism remains.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Joy of LSATs
I just took a practice LSAT exam, and it was one of the more disgusting things I’ve done recently.
Studying education has made me acutely aware of the flaws of standardized tests. One of the biggest is goal displacement: instead of focusing on the knowledge tested in the exam, you become focused on preparing for the test as an end in itself. It’s more about the test writers than my future legal clients. But perhaps law schools would rather know how well we can study for an exam, rather than our actual ability to reason through logic problems. This is quite possible.
Studying education has also made me more critical of statistics, and how they are interpreted. Right before the exam, Kaplan (administering the test) told us your LSAT score matters 3-4 times more than your college GPA in law school admissions. They couldn’t tell me how they got this number, and I have no hypotheses. How do you quantitatively determine how much weight one admission factor has over another? While there may be statistical models for this, I don’t think law schools are releasing those numbers to Kaplan.
This is not to say that Kaplan prep courses are not helpful to prepare for the LSATs; they can really change the way you read problems, and improve your score. But they make money off of preparing people for the LSAT exam, not getting higher GPAs. So the more important they make the LSAT seem, and the more insecure they make you feel, the better their business. For example, while reviewing problems, they said, “You may have gotten this problem right, but you can do it faster.” (Read: You need us!) Pedagogy mixed with advertising. My favorite.
In any case, I can’t afford their $1200+ prep courses. ($100 off doesn’t help much.) I’ll just pore over the practice books that they deemed useless…
Studying education has made me acutely aware of the flaws of standardized tests. One of the biggest is goal displacement: instead of focusing on the knowledge tested in the exam, you become focused on preparing for the test as an end in itself. It’s more about the test writers than my future legal clients. But perhaps law schools would rather know how well we can study for an exam, rather than our actual ability to reason through logic problems. This is quite possible.
Studying education has also made me more critical of statistics, and how they are interpreted. Right before the exam, Kaplan (administering the test) told us your LSAT score matters 3-4 times more than your college GPA in law school admissions. They couldn’t tell me how they got this number, and I have no hypotheses. How do you quantitatively determine how much weight one admission factor has over another? While there may be statistical models for this, I don’t think law schools are releasing those numbers to Kaplan.
This is not to say that Kaplan prep courses are not helpful to prepare for the LSATs; they can really change the way you read problems, and improve your score. But they make money off of preparing people for the LSAT exam, not getting higher GPAs. So the more important they make the LSAT seem, and the more insecure they make you feel, the better their business. For example, while reviewing problems, they said, “You may have gotten this problem right, but you can do it faster.” (Read: You need us!) Pedagogy mixed with advertising. My favorite.
In any case, I can’t afford their $1200+ prep courses. ($100 off doesn’t help much.) I’ll just pore over the practice books that they deemed useless…
Monday, January 19, 2009
Reflections on my admission (to Harvard)
As I prepare to enter the job market, I think back to my college applications. Like many of my classmates, I applied to Harvard on a whim, without particularly wanting or expecting to come here.
Apparently, they liked something about me. Between my high school documentary and my sarcastic admissions essay (mocking the stereotypical admissions essay), maybe they saw me as a rebel. Did they expect me to challenge the status quo? Did the admissions officers predict that I would become president of a student organization on campus, and then leader of a nonprofit? Have I lived up to whatever potential they saw in me?
Or, on the other hand, did they predict that my big dreams would become modest ambitions? That I would put in three “social justice” hours a week, and take a comfortable job after graduation?
Either way, it’s not in their hands. It’s up to me, and in some ways that’s harder to face. The admissions officers gave me a place to loiter for four years, in the hopes that it would be an enriching experience. Or that, at the very least, I wouldn’t screw up their statistics too badly.
Now I need to get myself somewhere.
Apparently, they liked something about me. Between my high school documentary and my sarcastic admissions essay (mocking the stereotypical admissions essay), maybe they saw me as a rebel. Did they expect me to challenge the status quo? Did the admissions officers predict that I would become president of a student organization on campus, and then leader of a nonprofit? Have I lived up to whatever potential they saw in me?
Or, on the other hand, did they predict that my big dreams would become modest ambitions? That I would put in three “social justice” hours a week, and take a comfortable job after graduation?
Either way, it’s not in their hands. It’s up to me, and in some ways that’s harder to face. The admissions officers gave me a place to loiter for four years, in the hopes that it would be an enriching experience. Or that, at the very least, I wouldn’t screw up their statistics too badly.
Now I need to get myself somewhere.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Musing: Fed up with identity politics
I have a love-hate relationship with French colorblindness. On one hand, not taking racial statistics creates challenges in being able to fight discrimination and identify social problems. (Who are we discriminating against? It's racism...but you can't talk about their race. We don't have those.) In France, refusing to talk about race often means ignoring the problems.
On the other hand, Americans can get bogged down with identity politics. In conversations, we tailor what we say to our audience, taking into account things like race, afraid of being un-PC and offending someone. In academics, Black people study Black people, Asian Americans study Asian Americans, and so forth for every axe of identity. Studying a group that you do not belong to is not common. It has to do with credibility, authenticity, legitimacy, and personal interest.
White people in France studying minorities with a postcolonial lens is *not* the solution, but have we gone too far in the other extreme?
On the other hand, Americans can get bogged down with identity politics. In conversations, we tailor what we say to our audience, taking into account things like race, afraid of being un-PC and offending someone. In academics, Black people study Black people, Asian Americans study Asian Americans, and so forth for every axe of identity. Studying a group that you do not belong to is not common. It has to do with credibility, authenticity, legitimacy, and personal interest.
White people in France studying minorities with a postcolonial lens is *not* the solution, but have we gone too far in the other extreme?
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