Poetry Got Me In Trouble

It all started with a simple, award winning poem by Chrissa:

My Precious Gift

I looked with tenderness,

I looked with love.

This miracle in front of me,

Was gifted from above.

For how could I deserve,

Me, as best?

I may never know,

But I do know I'm blessed.

This blessing in front of me,

This child, so sweet,

Was given by God,

I am now complete.

Nice, eh?


While this poem was part of a Creative Writing assignment, she entered it into the "In Seneca Valley" magazine's poetry contest... and won.  This magazine is produced by our school district for businesses and families in the Seneca Valley School District.  Mostly full of ads, but meant to convey stuff that is going on in the schools in the area.  Personally, I don't read the magazine... I find it best served in the trash can.


Her win was announced a couple of months ago.  


Two days ago, she was stopped by her (former... it was last semester) Creative Writing teacher who informed her that the magazine changed their mind.  It would not be published.  Why?  Well, mention of a baby and miracle and use of the word "I" seemed to imply that Chrissa was endorsing teen pregnancy.  Someone MAY read more into it and decide to go out, get shnockered, and get knocked up.


Think I'm kidding?  I'm not.


Yep, the magazine felt the poem was too controversial-- too wishy-washy-- too open for the wrong interpretation to be printed in their beloved magazine.  So, they threw it out.  Why announce it as a winner only to throw it out later?  I have no idea.  But, after all, you never know what influence it could have on the weak minded.  I mean, I read it and suddenly felt the urge...

Eh, not so fast.  Not being one to take things lying down, I found the email to the magazine's editor and sent her a kindly worded email (really... I tried... I'm not good at being sensitive, though).  Excerpts include:

Me: "Can you please let me know what, specifically, in the poem was so offensive or open to such a wide interpretation that you thought some teenager might actually want to get pregnant by reading it?"  "The idea that the poem was about teen pregnancy is ludicrous."  "The magazine should not conclude that a poem clearly written to show the love a mother has for her child endorses teen pregnancy."  "What are you-- stupid or something?"

Okay, the last sentence I made up.

I did receive a response.  Excerpts:

Them: "We as the publisher always have final right of refusal.  The poem, while beautiful, left a lot to interpretation.  The school district agreed that this wasn't the best forum for this particular poem.  I have asked the public relations director to ask your daughter if she would either revise the poem slightly OR submit another poem."

And, again, from me (excerpts only-- I ALWAYS get the last words in an argument):

Me: "Define 'revise the poem slightly'... again, I don't know what was so offensive that it has to be taken out?"  "Interpretation is the essence of poetry... I don't follow your logic knowing that poetry is meant to be interpreted by the reader."  "Why are you not concerned about how your readers might interpret some of the ads you have in the magazine, or the other articles you print, or the photos you put in it?"  "I had assumed, since we get this magazine in the mail, that your reading audience was more mature than you claim us to be... students at SV and their families will read this poem for what it is, not for what it isn't."  "Her work on this poem was exceptional and innocent, and fear of misinterpretation of it should not warrant a need to have the poem completely revised, otherwise you should revise the entire content of your next edition because anything you put in there could be wrongly interpreted by someone."

I haven't heard back yet.  Chances are the magazine will not publish it as it is.  I've told Chrissa that it is her call... she can revise it or send in a new one.  They promised to print what she sends in as long as it doesn't cross some threshold for censorship.  But, I did tell her that her poem was great, it won, and there should be no reason to adjust it just to get it into their crummy magazine (that no one reads).

So, more to come, I'm sure.  My next steps are already planned, depending on how they respond.  I could go as far as to mark up the current edition with my thoughts on how I'm interpreting each page... that should be fun... and mail it back to Mrs. Editor-in-Chief.  Or, I can forward this to our local radio station (the hosts have a nationwide audience) and urge them to aire my grievances over the radio waves.  Or, I could post it in the local paper and say that our highly-intelligent school district, being the smarty-pants that they are, thought we were all too dumb and bubble-brained to read it for fear that it would spark a mass-teen-pregnancy trend in the local schools, and therefore decided to keep this potential time bomb of a poem out of our over-sexed hands and out of our over-sexed minds.  

But, isn't it amazing?  The school will talk about teen pregnancy until the cows come home.  Some schools condone it (or, certainly don't downgrade it) by passing out "how to" manuals on the subject.  Yet, you get a student to write a poem about the view that a mom has for her child, and suddenly THIS is going to create sexual pandemonium in our youth? 

Phew!!

Technology Re-do

Our cell phone disappeared.  It was the second phone in a pair we had purchased a year or so prior to our move to Pittsburgh.  The first one took a spin through the washing machine, thanks to Chrissa.  Though she had partially redeemed herself after putting the phone in a bowl of dried rice for a day or so (in order to soak up any remaining moisture), the phone eventually succumbed to its conditions and stopped working altogether.  It went the way of all cell phones in our home-- to the kids toy box.

Note: while this may seem obvious, I recommend NOT loaning out anything to a person that doesn't have a job. My replacement phone was a $30 imitation... not the $100+ phone that found its way through a wash and spin cycle.  It was akin to someone borrowing my truck, driving it off a pier into the Atlantic, and replacing it with a 1982 Subaru Brat.

The latest phone-- the twin of the original pair-- disappeared without a trace.  I'm guessing it is somewhere between our home and the home of a friend that Michelle was visiting a few weeks ago.  Of course, we've found phones in our potted plants at home, in Barbie's house, under couch cushions, and inside major appliances, but our scan of the area didn't turn it up.  

We were left with only the $30 knock-off.

Incidentally, around this same time, our home computer started to act like anything else that reaches retirement age-- it slowed way down, started to sputter and spit, got cranky when it was turned on, and began emitted a strange smell.  It would also complained every time we asked it to do something. Clearly, it was time for us to put him to sleep as well.

With a tax return in hand, we ordered a new Dell PC for the home-- one that bragged of speed and memory, something Michelle and I have lost in ourselves over the years.  It arrived and I went to work hooking it up and getting it into production mode.  

On the mobile phone front, I put Michelle in the car and went to the nearest Verizon store.  She walked in with a simple flip-phone in mind, and came out with an iPhone 4.

The technological gap is what I mean to discuss here.

The computer we bought is about 3 times faster with 3 times the memory and performance of our old one.  Nevertheless, it will not make dinner, get a job, or vacuum the floors-- not that we expected it to, but it always amazes me that despite its qualities, family members still complain that it isn't doing enough.  The internet, for example-- web pages open up much faster than our old one, but the consensus is that it still isn't what it should be.  I suppose a computer will be good enough once it senses what you want to do and does it before you ask, or an internet search will be so fast that you actually go back in time.

The phone was a fun process as well.  Like our camera debacle a few years ago, we struggle to keep up with technology in our home.  We were, perhaps, in the top 3% of Americans that still clung to their film camera before we bit the bullet and went all digital 3 years ago.  I think we finally got embarrassed with the whine of the film mechanism inside the camera whenever a photo was snapped.  Or, it could have been the need to put the camera up to our eye to make sure everything was lined up before we took the shot.  That act was the modern day version of putting the camera on a tripod and throwing the black blanket over your head to open the shutter.

Anyhow, the phone.  Michelle, as I mentioned, had a simple phone in mind going in to the store.  I had the iPhone or something similar in mind.  There was going to be a clash of opinions on the matter, but I think Michelle and I expect this between us on any subject.  Her going-in argument was, "What is free/cheap?"  Mine was, "What is the latest and greatest?"  Since we walked out with the iPhone, it should be no surprise who won that debate.

However, once at home, the technology gap that I referred to became more pronounced.  The iPhone, while open for debate, is one of the most complex pieces of tech that I've ever held, yet all packaged into a system that is rather easy to use.  It replaces our camera, video recorder, iPod, GPS, and most of our magazine subscriptions.  I haven't figured out how it can replace my job, but I'm looking.  And, Michelle hasn't figured out how to get it to replace me, but I'll bet she's considered looking as well.  Yet, with all of this, the questions I got were as follows: "How do you unlock it?"  "Where do you plug it in?"  "Why is it so small to read?"  "Where is the 'off' button?"  "Why isn't it faster?"  "How do I just use the phone?"  "How do I hang up?"

Point is-- if you don't stay "up" on technology, you lose the ability to use it once you get caught back up.  

I used to work for Voicestream Wireless, believe it or not.  Voicestream is/was the predecessor to T-Mobile, I think.  Anyway, one day, this old farmer walks in to the store holding an original Motorola DynaTac 8000.  If you've never seen one of these, picture this-- a truck load of them could be stacked and cemented together to make a well structured doomsday bunker.  The phone he was holding was huge... at least a foot long with an antennae on it that stretched another foot.  The buttons were the size of dinner plates.  He put it on the counter and said, "I'd like to activate this thing."  This man had been out of the loop so long that he didn't understand why we couldn't get it to work, nor could he see at his ripe old age the phone of the day that were so small in comparison that he had to look at it through the bifocal part of his spectacles.

My worry is that we, as a family, are getting to that point.  Our TV is still of the old tube type-- the same TV we bought on sale at Sam's Club a year after we were married.  Its as long from front to back as it is wide.  Yet, I can't bring myself to buy a replacement because it still works.  I think once the time comes, I'll walk into a store to buy and the TV's will be unrecognizable, then I'll start doing what I'm accusing others of doing now by asking, "Where's the 'off' button?" as they are showing me how the TV can bend space/time.

With that said, we are adjusting to our new iPhone and computer.  So far, so good. 

Now, I have to get this post finished.... where is the "send" button?