English 1C: CONOVER, NEWJACK, Prison, Pop Culture & False Convictions

TED CONOVER

See Ted Conover's website. It is worth a visit. Check out his blog post Yo, CO! Vinny Retires. It gives a nice insight into Conover and his former CO colleagues. Unfortunately, Conover's  interview with Charlie Rose is no longer available at his website here or on the Charlie Rose website. (But try it again; it might get reposted.) However, I have a copy of the interview, so we will (and did) watch it in class. 

At Conover's blog: Rehab at Sing Sing, May 22, 2012.  Here's the first two paragraphs of Conover's reflections: 

Newjack: Guarding Sing Sing is still considered contraband in New York state prisons – at least until the seven pages deemed a threat to security back in 2000 have been torn out. But though my book can’t come in whole, it appears that, as of last week, I can.

Rehabilitation Through The Arts, which helps stage a play at Sing Sing every year, invited me to see the inmate production of  “A Few Good Men.” To my surprise, Sing Sing approved my visit and then Albany said okay, as well. I was rehabilitated, politically speaking – and last Friday, for the first time since I turned in my badge in 1998, I passed back through the prison gate.

Go to Rehab at Sing Sing, May 22, 2012 to read more.

Conover also wrote "A Snitch’s Dilemma," about Alex White for The New York Times, June 29, 2012.  If there was ever a "secrets, lies and spies" story, this is it.  Here's the first paragraph:

"Kathryn Johnston was doing pretty well until the night the police showed up. Ever since her sister died, Johnston, 92, had lived alone in a rough part of Atlanta called the Bluff. A niece checked in often. One of the gifts she left was a pistol, so that her aunt might protect herself."

If you like, read the rest of Conover's story about Alex "the Snitch" White, a member of the Black Mafia Family, and "Behind the Cover Story: Ted Conover on the Murky World of the Snitch" for Conover's point-of-view about his article.

Conover also has a report on a slaughterhouse in Harper's, May 2013. 

From Harper's May 2013 issue

The Way of All Flesh

Undercover in an industrial slaughterhouse

By Ted Conover

Here's the first two paragraphs:

The cattle arrive in perforated silver trailers called cattle pots that let in wind and weather and vent out their hot breath and flatus. It’s hard to see inside a cattle pot. The drivers are in a hurry to unload and leave, and are always speeding by. (When I ask Lefty how meat gets bruised, he says, “You ever see how those guys drive?”) The trucks have come from feedlots, some nearby, some in western Nebraska, a few in Iowa. The plant slaughters about 5,100 cattle each day, and a standard double-decker cattle pot holds only about forty, so there’s a constant stream of trucks pulling in to disgorge, even before the line starts up a little after six a.m.

First the cattle are weighed. Then they are guided into narrow outdoor pens angled diagonally toward the entrance to the kill floor. A veterinarian arrives before our shift and begins to inspect them; she looks for open wounds, problems walking, signs of disease. When their time comes, the cattle will be urged by workers toward the curving ramp that leads up into the building. The ramp has a roof and no sharp turns. It was designed by the livestock expert Temple Grandin, and the curves and penumbral light are believed to soothe the animals in their final moments. But the soothing goes only so far.

The story continues at Harper's, but it only offers limited access to its magazine online, including the above Conover article. You may be able to find the full-text through EbscoHost, a database available through the PCC Shatford Library.

Sing Sing Prison Cell

RECOMMENDED: C-SPAN did a video documentary on Sing Sing in 1997, close to the time Conover was there. To watch the unedited footage go here and see inside Sing Sing, from correction officers to inmates, locked cells to its history and architecture.

William M. Vander Weyde (American, 1871-1929).
 Electric chair at Sing Sing, ca. 1900,
 glass plate negative.

Newjack by Ted Conover

Discussion Questions Suggested by Students

1. On page eight Conover writes that after making eye contact with the prisoners he got a “sense that grows of the human dimension of this colony.” What does this mean?

2. On page 99 in the last couple of sentences of the first paragraph, we find that Conover was told, “you’re going to learn, CO, that some things they taught you in the Academy can get you killed.” This can be either a threat or advice. What does it say about the prison system that what you were taught could cost you your life? Offer five examples from Newjack to develop your discussion.

3. Why would a professional enforce another officer’s questionable demand to keep a prisoner locked up? (See page 102 when a CO is asked to enforce a rule that wasn’t a rule.)

4. Why would one officer (in this case Wickersham) humiliate another officer in front of the prisoners? (See page 110 and the line, “Do you have a problem with picking this inmates comb off the floor?”)

5. With reference to page 122: Conover writes about being a correction officer from a man’s perspective, and he says that the job is depressing, tiring, and stressful. There are also female prison guards working in the male prison. Do these females go through the same emotional rollercoaster or are they more likely to be taunted by the inmates than male prison guards?

6. In Chapter 5 (171-209) Conover gives the reader background on the jail system and the development of electrocution. Why does he present this information and what was he trying to convey by discussing these topics? Offer five examples from throughout Newjack to support your position.

7. Study the Jack Henry Abbott quote on page 126. Does this quote reveal prison life as described by Conover? Explain.

8. What importance is Conover’s report of the suicide watch to his story about Sing Sing?

9. Why is Lewis Lawes so important to Sing Sing’s history? Why does Conover bother to tell us about him? (Pages 199-202)

10. What does Conover mean when he says, “I was probably somewhere in between”? (221) What does this say about Conover’s personality and his connection to prison life? In support of your position give  five specific examples from Newjack where Conover is “in between.”

11. Name five examples of race as a topic for Conover to discuss in his book. How is racial issues significant (or not) to life in Sing Sing?

View to the northwest, with B-Block on the left, A-Block to the right and
Messhall Building in the middle. B-Block yard, with more grass than at present, lies
 in the left foreground. This was probably taken in the 1960s. from Ted Conover's website.

Newjack by Ted Conover More Discussion Questions Suggested by Students

 

1. Do you think Conover is consistent when attempting to challenge the stereotypical views of prison life? For example, do you still view prisoners as victims? Or do you now feel sympathy for prison guards?

2. Do you feel content with what Conover has illustrated in Newjack? Or do you feel like certain scenarios have been left out? Is spending one year at Sing Sing enough time to really become familiar with a prison guard’s lifestyle?

3. Why does Conover place one or more epigraphs at the beginning of every chapter in Newjack? Does he use them to strengthen the argument that he is trying to make within the chapter, or does he offer them as counter examples to what he believes? Explain.

4. On page 142 Conover states, “No one, as far as I could see, improved in prison.” Do you think this--with reference to Newjack--also applies to the prison guards? Why?

5. Throughout the book Conover italicizes words and phrases such as “the cure” (142), “he” (150), “support” (155). Italics are usually used for emphasis or to show importance, but why is Conover italicizing these words?

6. At the end of their day in the Visit Room, Colton says, “It’s a regular Hallmark card” (156). What does he mean?

7. Do you think that correction officers “control” the inmates of the inmates “control” the correction officers? (234)

8.  The title of Chapter 7, "My Heart Inside Out," is taken from from Anne Frank's diary.  Who does it apply to in this chapter?  Why?

9. Why was it most common for things to go wrong in the prison with inmates during the holidays? Why is it that most suicides occur around that time of year? (294)

10. How hard was it for Conover to work as a CO with the prisoners? Give five examples from Newjack of the good and the bad for him, and then argue whether or not Conover was comfortable in the role of prison guard.

Original cell block at Sing Sing. from Ted Conover's website.

Newjack by Ted Conover EVEN MORE QUESTIONS Suggested by Students

1.  Conover writes, "The process of breaking a man simply takes longer and costs more.  Does it represent injustice or tyranny?  That depends on your point of view." (136)  What is Conover's point of view?  Discuss with five examples from Newjack.

2.  Explain why Conover writes at length about the history of Sing Sing and the death penalty.  Point to several examples from the book.

3. Based on Conover's experience and understanding of other COs, does learning about your prospective prisoners serve as a positive or negative in being able to maintain control?  Explain.

4.  Does Conover offer a fair representation of his superiors (as corrections officers) or does he seem set on making them look like bad guys?  Explain with five examples from Newjack.

5. In the Charlie Rose interview, Conover briefly mentoned that the frustration he went through at the prison followed him home.  Do you think Conover believes it is possible for guards to leave their frustration in the work place?  Explain.

6. Why is race such an important part of Sing Sing prison?  Point to several examples from Newjack as you discuss the question.

7. What makes a good corrections office, in your opinion? If you were a warden, would you hire Conover as a corrections officer?  Why or why not?

8.  Do you think Conover's first day on the "gallery" was as stressful as any other OJT's?  Do you think it was less or more stressful, considering that he is an established writer and journalist?

9.  Turn to pages 123-26 (and other pages, too) as you discuss Conover's experience with inmates as a corrections officer, writer, and citizen. With reference to five examples from Newjack, does Conover compartmentalize (i.e., divide) his perspective as corrections officer, writer, and citizen?   Or not? Explain.

10. Why would a C.O. (in this case St. George) choose not to write a prisoner up when said prisoner has cearly disobeyed some rules? (86)  A follow-up question: Conover writes that "Smith succeeded because he viewed the inmates as human beings." (87)  What does Conover mean by this?

11. What is the point of the Academy if it doesn't prepare you for the real thing? (94)

Conover in his correction officer uniform at Sing Sing Prison

PRISONS

"The Dannemora [Prison] Dilemma" by Ross Douthat. The New York Times, June 13, 2015. From Douthat's op-ed: "All told, our prisons house around 2.2 million Americans, leaving the land of the free with the world’s highest incarceration rate. And they house them, often, in conditions that make a mockery of our supposed ban on “cruel and unusual” punishment: gang-dominated, rife with rape, ruled by disciplinary measures (particularly the use of solitary confinement) that meet a reasonable definition of torture." Click on this to read the full op-ed.

The Supreme Court made an important decision regarding prison conditions in California.  From The New York Times, May 23, 2011, article, "Justices, 5-4, Tell California to Cut Prisoner Population": "Conditions in California’s overcrowded prisons are so bad that they violate the Eighth Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment, the Supreme Court ruled on Monday, ordering the state to reduce its prison population by more than 30,000 inmates." The Los Angeles Times story on the Supreme Court decision can be found here.  KQED has also posted an audio interview about the decision.

PBS Frontline has posted online "The New Asylums," its  report about prisons housing the mentally ill. Produced in 2005, the program runs about 60 minutes. It is introduced with these words: "Fewer than 55,000 Americans currently receive treatment in psychiatric hospitals. Meanwhile, almost 10 times that number -- nearly 500,000 -- mentally ill men and women are serving time in U.S. jails and prisons. As sheriffs and prison wardens become the unexpected and often ill-equipped caretakers of this burgeoning population, they raise a troubling new concern: Have America's jails and prisons become its new asylums?"

PBS Frontline has reported other stories about prisons. Look for "Locked Up in America," and its two programs "Solitary Nation" and "Prison State "

A former prosecutor wearing a suit writes: "I Got Myself Arrested So I Could Look Inside the Justice System" by Bobby Constantino, in The Atlantic, December 17, 2013.

What is "Club Fed"? Here is one story, "The Secrets of White Collar Prisons," from Dujour 

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ANGLOLA PRISON

In Newjack, Conover mentions the documentary The Farm: Life Inside Angola, that we saw in class. If you missed it, you can watch it online here.  Wish to see the sequel to it?  Watch The Farm: 10 Down, made ten years after the original in the series. Go to nola.com for a profile of filmmaker Jonathan Stack and his work on the first  documentary and its sequel about the prison.

Learn more about Angola and the life of one prisoner who spent 41 years in solitary confinement for the crime of killing a prison guard.  The inmate, Herman Wallace, died of cancer just three days after a judge overturned his conviction. NPR reported that "Wallace's conviction [was overturned] on the grounds that he had been denied a fair trial because he was indicted by a grand jury comprised solely of men — in violation of the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment."

This photo of Glenn Ford was taken by his lawyer on March 11, 2014—Ford's first day of freedom
 after 30 years in prison—near St. Francisville, Louisiana. (Gary Clements)

"Glenn Ford's First Days of Freedom After 30 Years on Death Row" in The Atlantic monthly by Andrew Cohen, March 14, 2014. Imprisoned since the Reagan's first tem as president, a man tastes freedom.

"Anywhere he wanted to go, the jubilant defense attorneys told a hungry Glenn Ford late Tuesday afternoon as they left the television cameras behind, piled into their car, and left the yawning grounds of Louisiana's notorious Angola prison. Ford was hungry, very hungry, because from the moment he had learned that he would be released from death row—after serving 30 years there for a murder he did not commit—he had decided that he would not eat another morsel of prison food." Read the rest of the article here.

"[Angola] Prison rodeo offers hope where it is lacking." Los Angeles Times, November 27, 2012. Louisiana State Penitentiary [Angola aka The Farm] hosts a popular, long-running prison rodeo, where inmates, many facing life sentences, compete for prizes and a bit of respect.

By Molly Hennessy-Fiske, Los Angeles Times

ANGOLA, La. — In the middle of the rodeo arena, the four men could smell manure from the animal pens and cracklins and caramel corn from the stands as they steadied themselves in their plastic lawn chairs, spread their hands on the red card table in front of them and planted their feet in the mud.

They were bracing for the bull.

Once it was turned loose, the last one sitting in this game called Convict Poker would win. . . .

Louisiana State Penitentiary was once a plantation, Angola, named for the origin of its slaves. Inmates work the fields for 2 cents an hour at what is now the largest maximum-security prison in the country, an 18,000-acre compound about 50 miles north of Baton Rouge that's home to the state's death row and more than 6,200 other prisoners, many of them murderers, armed robbers and rapists (who aren't allowed at the rodeo).

Click here for the full story.

Watch an Angola Prison Documentary from the Atlantic magazine. 

Jeffrey Goldberg reports.

Angola for Life

This was published by the Atlantic on Sep 09, 2015: "There are more than 6,000 men currently imprisoned at the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola—three-quarters of them are there for life, and nearly 80 percent are African American. It's the end of the line for many convicted criminals in Louisiana, which has the highest incarceration rate of any state in the U.S. In this Atlantic original documentary, national correspondent Jeffrey Goldberg goes inside Angola to speak with inmates and with warden Burl Cain, who has managed the prison for two decades. Cain and his colleagues grapple with the crucial question: What does rehabilitation look like when you're locked away for life?"

Read Goldberg's recent reflection on the filmmaking process, as well as his in-depth report on crime in Louisiana, "A Matter of Black Lives," from The Atlantic's September issue. Follow this link for more information about the documentary and Goldberg's reporting. 

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PRISON and POPULAR CULTURE

Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour

Episode 6: Jail (From Season 1) 

 Standard Podcast Play in Popup

(prison noises)
It’s night time in the big city
A truck driver runs a red light
A strange quiet man practices tae chi in a park

“The Big House, the brig, the clink, the coop, the gray bar hotel, the hoosegow, the joint , the jug, the pen, the pokie, the slammer, the stir”

The Singers and Songs

• Johnny Cash: Folsom Prison Blues
• Magic Sam: 21 Days in Jail
• Bessie Smith: Send Me To The ‘Lectric Chair
• Warren Storm: Prisoner’s Song

“A little bit of swamp pop from Louisiana, which fused R & B, Country, Cajun, and Creole, a real Brasshopper mixture. And, just like Ringo, he’s a singing drummer.”

• The Pretenders: Back on the Chain Gang
• William Shakespeare, def poet
• Andre Williams: Jail Bait
• Cannon’s Jug Stompers: Prison Wall Blues

“Gus Cannon, one of the best-known of all jug band musicians, made himself a special harness, so he could wear his jug around his neck and play banjo at the same time.”

• Kenny Lane and his Bull Dogs: Columbus Stockade Blues
• Joe Simon: Nine Pound Steel
• Jimmy Patton: Okie’s In The Pokie

“A thick slab of rockabilly madness…soundin’ funky drunk and full steam ahead.”

• John Prine: Christmas in Prison
• Sir Douglas Quintet: In The Jailhouse Now
• The Mississippi Sheiks (Lonnie Chatmon, Walter Vinson, Bo Carter, Sam Chatmon): Jailbird Love Song
• Wanda Jackson: Riot in Cell Block #9
• Merle Haggard: Sing Me Back Home
• Hurricane Harry: Last Meal

(Click here for complete notes on this episode at The Bob Dylan Fan Club)

The 40 Best Prisoners in Pop Culture

By Paste Staff, August 21, 2013 

Great Escapes: From 'Shawshank' to 'X-Men,' Pop 

Culture's Top Prison Breaks

By NBC News,  June 8, 2015

‘Lockup’ Exec. Producer on Prison TV, and How It’s 

More Popular Than You Think

By The Observer, May 9, 2015

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FALSE CONVICTIONS 

People go to prison for crimes they did not commit. Addressing this issue, The Innocence Project has helped free 303 people. based on DNA evidence, as of April 6, 2013. Affiliated with the Benjamin N. Cardozo.School of Law at Yeshiva University. the Innocence Project was instrumental in helping Brian Banks get his rightful freedom. See, below, an interview with exoneree Brian Banks and his attorney Justin Brooks, director of the California Innocence Project.

First Exoneree to Play Professional Football Inks a Deal With Atlanta Falcons
Posted by the Innocence Project here: April 4, 2013 4:20 pm

Nearly one year after kidnapping and rape charges against a former Southern California high school football player were dismissed, Brian Banks’ dreams to play professional football were fulfilled Wednesday when he inked a deal with the Atlanta Falcons.

The alleged victim claimed that she had been forced to the school’s basement and raped without a condom, but DNA testing did not find sperm on her underwear. Banks was exonerated after the alleged victim was video recorded denying that any crime had taken place.

As a collegiate prospect with a verbal commitment to play at the University of Southern California, Banks was forced to set aside his dreams in 2002 when he took a plea deal to avoid trial and the risk of a lengthy prison sentence. After a five-year stint in prison he was forced to register as a sex offender and wear an electronic monitoring bracelet.

Following his exoneration last May, Banks, who was represented by the California Innocence Project, received calls from several professional football teams and was invited for workouts and tryouts.

Watch Banks and California Innocence Project Director Justin Brooks, above, talk more about Banks’ story and what it means to go pro on MSNBC’s Politics Now.

Yusef Salaam is escorted by police in a scene
 from the documentary "The Central Park Five."
 (Clarence Davis / NY Daily News Archive / 
November 29, 2012)

More False Convictions

People go to prison and some released--just ask Yusef Salaam, above--for crimes they did not commit, as some students discovered during past semesters for their research papers.

The Los Angeles Times of November 24, 2014, reported "California's Longest-serving Wrongfully Convicted Inmate is a Free Man," and it can be found here.

The Washington Post reported a story about an Ohio man falsely convicted and released on December 9, 2014. NBC News also reported on this story.

Four articles from the Los Angeles Times examine wrongful convictions with a special focus on the Central Park Five and a recent documentary about the case:  "A 10-year nightmare over rape conviction is over," May 25, 2012, "Cannes 2012: Ken Burns' 'Central Park Five' explores famous crime," May 24, 2012, "A Voice at Last for the 'Central Park Five," November 28, 2012  and a "Review: Devastating 'The Central Park Five' details injustice," November 30, 2012. 

from the PBS website for THE CENTRAL PARK FIVE, "a new film from award-winning filmmaker Ken Burns, tells the story of the five black and Latino teenagers from Harlem who were wrongly convicted of raping a white woman in New York City’s Central Park in 1989. The film chronicles The Central Park Jogger case, for the first time from the perspective of these five teenagers whose lives were upended by this miscarriage of justice."  Here is the trailer for the documentary broadcast on PBS:

"FBI Admits Flaws in Hair Analysis Over Decades," The Washington Post, April 18, 2015

"Fix the Flaws in Forensic Science," The New York Times, April 21, 2015

"Man Convicted in Murder Investigated by Scarcella Is Ordered Freed," The New York Times, April 14, 2015.

By MARC SANTORA and NATE SCHWEBER

More than two decades after Rosean S. Hargrave was convicted of murdering an off-duty correction officer in Brooklyn, a judge on Tuesday afternoon ordered him released from prison, saying that his trial was deeply flawed and unfair.

The case against Mr. Hargrave was built, in part, on the work of Detective Louis Scarcella and his partner, Stephen W. Chmil, and it is one of dozens of cases that have come under review since accusations emerged that Mr. Scarcella once framed an innocent man.

The scrutiny of Mr. Scarcella’s work has led the Brooklyn district attorney’s office to move to have several convictions thrown out, but this ruling marks a first time that a judge has conducted an independent review of a Scarcella case and found profound problems.

Justice ShawnDya L. Simpson of (New York's) State Supreme Court offered a scathing review of Mr. Scarcella’s record, finding that his work as a detective fundamentally compromised the defendant’s right to a fair trial.


Continue reading the above New York Times news report here.

Friends and family members of Rosean S. Hargrave at a hearing Tuesday in which he was ordered released from prison. Mr. Hargrave was one of two teenagers convicted of shooting two correction officers, killing one, in 1991. 

Credit

Sam Hodgson for The New York Times

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Tip: "How to Beat a Polygraph Test." Read this from The New York Times, By Malia Wollanapril, April 10, 2015.

The New York Times, April 26, 2015

Earthquake Aftershocks Jolt Nepal as Death Toll Rises Above 3,400 [over 7,000 as of May 7, 2015]

By THOMAS FULLER and CHRIS BUCKLEY

PHOTOGRAPHS|12 Photos

Nepal Searches for Survivors After Earthquake

Nepal Searches for Survivors After Earthquake

CreditNarendra Shrestha/European Pressphoto Agency

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KATMANDU, Nepal — Each time this city shuddered with aftershocks from the earthquake that convulsed Nepal, Samaj Gautam felt an urge to join the millions of residents who fled to safety outdoors. But working in a hospital emergency ward inundated with the wounded, and their broken limbs, fractured skulls and other physical traumas, Dr. Gautam said Sunday night, he and his colleagues had to suppress their fears and stick to treating patients.

“I’m feeling exhausted but also scared because the tremors have been by the dozens,” Dr. Gautam said as he worked through his own exhaustion in the emergency ward of Bir Hospital in Katmandu, where he had been since soon after the earthquake hit Saturday. “But the most worrying thing to me is the aftereffect. Sanitation, disease, these are also serious worries.”

By early Monday, Nepalese authorities had sharply raised the death toll to more than 3,200 death toll, [April 27, 2015: death toll over 3,800], but the full extent of the devastation and death was still unclear. It 3as that uncertainty, over what the earthquake had wrought and what the future might hold, that spread fear and anxiety across Nepal. The true extent of disasters like the one that hit Saturday often become clear only in the days and weeks afterward, as the digging-out gains momentum and crews work through the rubble of lives upended.

READ THE REST OF the above article here.
READ MORE NEWS at this page.

Where to Donate

Here is a list of some of the groups soliciting donations for relief efforts in Nepal:

American Jewish World Service: ajws.org

The Salvation Army: salvationarmyusa.org

International Medical Corps: internationalmedicalcorps.org

Handicap International: handicap-international.us

Unicef: unicef.org

PayPal: paypal.com

Mercy Corps: mercycorps.org

Catholic Relief Services: crs.org

Habitat for Humanity International: habitat.org

Global Giving: globalgiving.org

The American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee: jdc.org

Oxfam: oxfamamerica.org

World Vision: worldvision.org

Red Cross: redcross.org

United Nations World Food Program: wfp.org

Samaritan’s Purse: samaritanspurse.org

CARE: care.org

Save the Children: savethechildren.org

Lutheran World Relief: lwr.org

The Jewish Federations of North America: jewishfederations.org

SOS: Children’s Villages International: sos-childrensvillages.org

Doctors Without Borders: donate.doctorswithoutborders.org

MAP International: mapinternational.org

International Relief Teams: irteams.orgtinue reading the main 

Con

English 9 (Creative Nonfiction) Schedule

This schedule is tentative.

It might be updated, 

so check it twice daily.

Mon. 3/23

Revision Due: Profile of Place/Person #2

Student Manuscript Readings

Best American Essay groups meet
Wed. 3/25

Brian Turner Readings (find them on English with McCabe). 

For Turner: review the whole post on English with McCabe, but read the two excerpts from his memoir, My Life as a Foreign Country, the New York Times Book Review, and the article from the Telegraph.
Best American Essay group essays and dates assigned
Mon. 3/30

CN: Pearson (45)

Brian Turner Readings
Tue. 3/31

PCC closed - Cesar Chavez Holiday
Wed. 4/1

Best American Essay group (Art, Victoria, Augusto)
Best: Baxter's "What Happens in Hell" (142)

In-class: Brian Turner Readings
Thurs. 4/2

Borders of Diversity Conference with Brian Turner
Mon. 4/6

CN: Dillard (357)
See Creative Nonfiction's Issue #55, Spring 2015, The Memoir Issue.
Wed. 4/8

Best American Essay group (Eva, Graham, Nick Serki): Sullivan's "Ghost Estates" (236)
Best American Essay group (Jessica, Marissa, Nick Sanchez): Yang's "Field Notes on Hair" (217)

Mon. 4/13

Class Canceled

Due: Memoir Draft (Typed 7-8 pages.) Leave one copy with the English Dept., C245, by Monday April 13th, 5:00PM. Get it time-stamped. Be sure your name and my name is on your draft.

Wed. 4/15
Class visit with Tracy Dolezal Macrum of South Pasadena Review, The Quarterly Magazine &
SouthPasadenaNow.com
Review SouthPasadenaNow.com and copies of The Quarterly distributed earlier in the semester.
Best American Essay group (Mavi, Acacia): Mirsky's "Epilogue" (266). Everyone reads essay.
Bring one copy of your Memoir Draft to class

Mon. 4/20
BRING A COPY OF YOUR MEMOIR TO CLASS
Best American Essay group (Mavi, Acacia): Mirsky's "Epilogue" (266). 

Best American Essay group (Casey, Alex, Andrew): Munro's "Night" (17)

Wed. 4/22
BRING A CLEAN COPY OF YOUR MEMOIR TO CLASS
Best: Daniels (225)
Best: Gilb (254)

Mon. 4/27

Revision Due: Memoir (Typed 7-8 pages)
This is the FINAL REVISION.
I will collect it and grade it.

Student Manuscript Readings

Wed. 4/29

Student Manuscript Readings
Best: Smith (188)

Monday, May 4th, 10:15 AM—12:15 PM

Final Exam Meeting

Inscape Submissions Due today by 9:00 A.M.
It must be perfectly edited, proofread and follow submission guidelines. See Inscape submission guidelines for details.
Send it to me at cjmccabe@pasadena.edu
You must attend class--be there by 10:15 AM--today and verify that I have received your submission. If, however, you fear not being able to attend this meeting, send your work days earlier--Friday, May 1st, by midnight--and await my email reply that I have received it. If you don't get an email response from me, I didn't receive it.
This submission counts towards 10% of your course grade.

Follow-up: Writings about Rape on College Campuses

On Monday, 4/6/15, Alex initiated a discussion and others joined in, raising questions about the Rolling Stone article about the alleged gang rape at the University of Virginia. The New Yorker's George Packer writes about the topic in "Rolling Stone and the Temptations of Narrative Journalism", an April 6, 2015 column. Also, in The New Yorker, April 24, 2015, is Margaret Talbot's "Going to Court in Jon Krakauer’s "Missoula'" about Jon Krakuer's book Missoula, which "remind[s] us of what a brave and risky thing it still is for a woman to report a rape."

"Trash Food," a brilliant essay by Chris Offutt.

from Oxford American, April 10. 2015

"The term 'white trash" is an epithet of bigotry that equates human worth with garbage. It implies a dismissal of the group as stupid, violent, lazy, and untrustworthy—the same negative descriptors of racial minorities, of anyone outside of the mainstream. At every stage of American history, various groups of people have endured such personal attacks. Language is used as a weapon: divisive, cruel, enciphered. Today is no different. For example, here in Mississippi, the term 'Democrats' is code for 'African Americans.' Throughout the U.S.A., 'family values' is code for 'no homosexuals.' The term 'trash food' is not about food, it’s coded language for social class. It’s about poor people and what they can afford to eat."

Read the whole essay here. Or below: 

Over the years I’ve known many people with nicknames, including Lucky, Big O, Haywire, Turtle Eggs, Hercules, two guys named Hollywood, and three guys called Booger. I’ve had my own nicknames as well. In college people called me “Arf” because of a dog on a t-shirt. Back home a few of my best buddies call me “Shit-for-Brains,” because our teachers thought I was smart.

Three years ago, shortly after moving to Oxford, someone introduced me to John T. Edge. He goes by his first name and middle initial, but I understood it as a nickname—Jaunty. The word “jaunty” means lively and cheerful, someone always merry and bright. The name seemed to suit him perfectly. Each time I called him Jaunty he gave me a quick sharp look of suspicion. He wondered if I was making fun of his name—and of him. The matter was resolved when I suggested he call me “Chrissie O.”

Last spring John T. asked me to join him at an Oxford restaurant. My wife dropped me off and drove to a nearby secondhand store. Our plan was for me to meet her later and find a couple of cheap lamps. During lunch John T. asked me to give a presentation at the Southern Foodways Alliance symposium over which he presided every fall.

I reminded him that I lacked the necessary qualifications. At the time I’d only published a few humorous essays that dealt with food. Other writers were more knowledgeable and wrote with a historical context, from a scholarly perspective. All I did was write personal essays inspired by old community cookbooks I found in secondhand stores. Strictly speaking, my food writing wasn’t technically about food.

John T. said that didn’t matter. He wanted me to explore “trash food,” because, as he put it, “you write about class.”

I sat without speaking, my food getting cold on my plate. Three thoughts ran through my mind fast as flipping an egg. First, I couldn’t see the connection between social class and garbage. Second, I didn’t like having my thirty-year career reduced to a single subject matter. Third, I’d never heard of anything called “trash food.”

I write about my friends, my family, and my experiences, but never with a socio-political agenda such as class. My goal was always art first, combined with an attempt at rigorous self-examination. Facing John T., I found myself in a professional and social pickle, not unusual for a country boy who’s clawed his way out of the hills of eastern Kentucky, one of the steepest social climbs in America. I’ve never mastered the high-born art of concealing my emotions. My feelings are always readily apparent.

Recognizing my turmoil, John T. asked if I was pissed off. I nodded and he apologized immediately. I told him I was overly sensitive to matters of social class. I explained that people from the hills of Appalachia have always had to fight to prove they were smart, diligent, and trustworthy. It’s the same for people who grew up in the Mississippi Delta, the barrios of Los Angeles and Texas, or the black neighborhoods in New York, Chicago, and Memphis. His request reminded me that due to social class I’d been refused dates, bank loans, and even jobs. I’ve been called hillbilly, stumpjumper, cracker, weedsucker, redneck, and white trash—mean-spirited terms designed to hurt me and make me feel bad about myself.

As a young man, I used to laugh awkwardly at remarks about sex with my sister or the perceived novelty of my wearing shoes. As I got older I quit laughing. When strangers thought I was stupid because of where I grew up, I understood that they were granting me the high ground. I learned to patiently wait in ambush for the chance to utterly demolish them intellectually. Later I realized that this particular battle strategy was a waste of energy. It was easier to simply stop talking to that person—forever.

But I didn’t want to do that with a guy whose name sounds like “jaunty.” A guy who’d inadvertently triggered an old emotional response. A guy who liked my work well enough to pay me for it.

By this time our lunch had a tension to it that draped over us both like a lead vest for an X-ray. We just looked at each other, neither of us knowing what to do. John T. suggested I think about it, then graciously offered me a lift to meet my wife. But a funny thing had happened. Our conversation had left me inexplicably ashamed of shopping at a thrift store. I wanted to walk to hide my destination, but refusing a ride might make John T. think I was angry with him. I wasn’t. I was upset. But not with him.

My solution was a verbal compromise, a term politicians use to mean a blatant lie. I told him to drop me at a restaurant where I was meeting my wife for cocktails. He did so and I waited until his red Italian sports car sped away. As soon as he was out of sight I walked to the junk store. I sat out front like a man with not a care in the world, ensconced in a battered patio chair staring at clouds above the parking lot. When I was a kid my mother bought baked goods at the day-old bread store and hoped no one would see her car. Now I was embarrassed for shopping secondhand.

My behavior was class-based twice over: buying used goods to save a buck and feeling ashamed of it. I’d behaved in strict accordance with my social station, then evaluated myself in a negative fashion. Even my anger was classic self-oppression, a learned behavior of lower-class people. I was transforming outward shame into inner fury. Without a clear target, I aimed that rage at myself.

My thoughts and feelings were completely irrational. I knew they made no sense. Most of what I owned had belonged to someone else—cars, clothes, shoes, furniture, dishware, cookbooks. I liked old and battered things. They reminded me of myself, still capable and functioning despite the wear and tear. I enjoyed the idea that my belongings had a previous history before coming my way. It was very satisfying to repair a broken lamp made of popsicle sticks and transform it to a lovely source of illumination. A writer’s livelihood is weak at best, and I’d become adept at operating in a secondhand economy. I was comfortable with it.

Still, I sat in that chair getting madder and madder. After careful examination I concluded that the core of my anger was fear—in this case fear that John T. would judge me for shopping secondhand. I knew it was absurd since he is not judgmental in the least. Anyone can see that he’s an open-hearted guy willing to embrace anything and everyone—even me.

Nevertheless I’d felt compelled to mislead him based on class stigma. I was ashamed—of my fifteen-year-old Mazda, my income, and my rented home. I felt ashamed of the very clothes I was wearing, the shoes on my feet. Abruptly, with the force of being struck in the face, I understood it wasn’t his judgment I feared. It was my own. I’d judged myself and found failure. I wanted a car like his. I wanted to dress like him and have a house like his. I wanted to be in a position to offer other people jobs.

The flip side of shame is pride. All I had was the pride of refusal. I could say no to his offer. I did not have to write about trash food and class. No, I decided, no, no, no. Later, it occurred to me that my reluctance was evidence that maybe I should say yes. I resolved to do some research before refusing his offer.

John T. had been a little shaky on the label of “trash food,” mentioning mullet and possum as examples. At one time this list included crawfish because Cajun people ate it, and catfish because it was favored by African Americans and poor Southern whites. As these cuisines gained popularity, the food itself became culturally upgraded. Crawfish and catfish stopped being “trash food” when the people eating it in restaurants were the same ones who felt superior to the lower classes. Elite white diners had to redefine the food to justify eating it. Otherwise they were voluntarily lowering their own social status—something nobody wants to do.

It should be noted that carp and gar still remain reputationally compromised. In other words—poor folks eat it and rich folks don’t. I predict that one day wealthy white people will pay thirty-five dollars for a tiny portion of carp with a rich sauce—and congratulate themselves for doing so.

I ran a multitude of various searches on library databases and the Internet in general, typing in permutations of the words “trash” and “food.” Surprisingly, every single reference was to “white trash food.” Within certain communities, it’s become popular to host “white trash parties” where people are urged to bring Cheetos, pork rinds, Vienna sausages, Jell-O with marshmallows, fried baloney, corndogs, RC cola, Slim Jims, Fritos, Twinkies, and cottage cheese with jelly. In short—the food I ate as a kid in the hills.

Participating in such a feast is considered proof of being very cool and very hip. But it’s not. Implicit in the menu is a vicious ridicule of the people who eat such food on a regular basis. People who attend these “white trash parties” are cuisinally slumming, temporarily visiting a place they never want to live. They are the worst sort of tourists—they want to see the Mississippi Delta and the hills of Appalachia but are afraid to get off the bus.

The term “white trash” is an epithet of bigotry that equates human worth with garbage. It implies a dismissal of the group as stupid, violent, lazy, and untrustworthy—the same negative descriptors of racial minorities, of anyone outside of the mainstream. At every stage of American history, various groups of people have endured such personal attacks. Language is used as a weapon: divisive, cruel, enciphered. Today is no different. For example, here in Mississippi, the term “Democrats” is code for “African Americans.” Throughout the U.S.A., “family values” is code for “no homosexuals.” The term “trash food” is not about food, it’s coded language for social class. It’s about poor people and what they can afford to eat.

In America, class lines run parallel to racial lines. At the very bottom are people of color. The Caucasian equivalent is me—an Appalachian. As a male Caucasian in America, I am supposed to have an inherent advantage in every possible way. It’s true. I can pass more easily in society. I have better access to education, health care, and employment. But if I insist on behaving like a poor white person—shopping at secondhand shops and eating mullet—I not only earn the epithet of “trash,” I somehow deserve it.

The term “white trash” is class disparagement due to economics. Polite society regards me as stupid, lazy, ignorant, violent and untrustworthy.

I am trash because of where I’m from.

I am trash because of where I shop.

I am trash because of what I eat.

But human beings are not trash. We are the civilizing force on the planet. We produce great art, great music, great food, and great technology. It’s not the opposable thumb that separates us from the beasts, it’s our facility with language. We are able to communicate with great precision. Nevertheless, history is fraught with the persistence of treating fellow humans as garbage, which means collection and transport for destruction. The most efficient management of humans as trash occurred when the Third Reich systematically murdered people by the millions. People they didn’t like. People they were afraid of. Jews, Romanis, Catholics, gays and lesbians, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the disabled.

In World War II, my father-in-law was captured by the Nazis and placed on a train car so crammed with people that everyone had to stand for days. Arthur hadn’t eaten in a week. He was close to starvation. A Romani man gave him half a turnip, which saved his life. That Romani man later died. Arthur survived the war. He had been raised to look down on Romani people as stupid, lazy, violent, and untrustworthy—the ubiquitous language of class discrimination. He subsequently revised his view of Romanis. For Arthur, the stakes of starvation were high enough that he changed his view of a group of people. But the wealthy elite in this country are not starving. When they changed their eating habits, they didn’t change their view of people. They just upgraded crawfish and catfish.

Economic status dictates class and diet. We arrange food in a hierarchy based on who originally ate it until we reach mullet, gar, possum, and squirrel—the diet of the poor. The food is called trash, and then the people are.

When the white elite take an interest in the food poor people eat, the price goes up. The result is a cost that prohibits poor families from eating the very food they’ve been condemned for eating. It happened with salmon and tuna years ago. When I was a kid and money was tight, my mother mixed a can of tuna with pasta and vegetables. Our family of six ate it for two days. Gone are the days of subsisting on cheap fish patties at the end of the month. The status of the food rose but not the people. They just had less to eat.

What is trash food? I say all food is trash without human intervention. Cattle, sheep, hogs, and chickens would die unless slaughtered for the table. If humans didn’t harvest vegetables, they would rot in the field. Food is a disposable commodity until we accumulate the raw material, blend ingredients, and apply heat, cold, and pressure. Then our bodies extract nutrients and convert it into waste, which must be disposed of. The act of eating produces trash.

In the hills of Kentucky we all looked alike—scruffy white people with squinty eyes and cowlicks. We shared the same economic class, the same religion, the same values and loyalties. Even our enemy was mutual: people who lived in town. Appalachians are suspicious of their neighbors, distrustful of strangers, and uncertain about third cousins. It’s a culture that operates under a very simple principle: you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone. After moving away from the hills I developed a different way of interacting with people. I still get cantankerous and defensive—ask John T.— but I’m better with human relations than I used to be. I’ve learned to observe and listen.

As an adult I have lived and worked in eleven different states—New York, Massachusetts, Florida, New Mexico, Montana, California, Tennessee, Georgia, Iowa, Arizona, and now Mississippi. These circumstances often placed me in contact with African Americans as neighbors, members of the same labor crew, working in restaurants, and now university colleagues. The first interaction between a black man and a white man is one of mutual evaluation: does the other guy hate my guts? The white guy—me—is worried that after generations of repression and mistreatment, will this black guy take his anger out on me because I’m white? And the black guy is wondering if I am one more racist asshole he can’t turn his back on. This period of reconnaissance typically doesn’t last long because both parties know the covert codes the other uses—the avoidance of touch, the averted eyes, a posture of hostility. Once each man is satisfied that the other guy is all right, connections begin to occur. Those connections are always based on class. And class translates to food.

Last year my mother and I were in the hardware store buying parts to fix a toilet. The first thing we learned was that the apparatus inside commodes has gotten pretty fancy over the years. Like breakfast cereal, there were dozens of types to choose from. Toilet parts were made of plastic, copper, and cheap metal. Some were silent and some saved water and some looked as if they came from an alien spacecraft.

A store clerk, an African-American man in his sixties, offered to help us. I told him I was overwhelmed, that plumbing had gotten too complicated. I tried to make a joke by saying it was a lot simpler when everyone used an outhouse. He gave me a quick sharp look of suspicion. I recognized his expression. It’s the same one John T. gave me when I mispronounced his name, the same look I gave John T. when he mentioned “trash food” and social class. The same one I unleashed on people who called me a hillbilly or a redneck.

I understood the clerk’s concern. He wondered if I was making a veiled comment about race, economics, and the lack of plumbing. I told him that back in Kentucky when the hole filled up with waste, we dug a new hole and moved the outhouse to it. Then we’d plant a fruit tree where the old outhouse had been.

“Man,” I said, “that tree would bear. Big old peaches.”

He looked at me differently then, a serious expression. His earlier suspicion was gone.

“You know some things,” he said. “Yes you do.”

“I know one thing,” I said. “When I was a kid I wouldn’t eat those peaches.”

The two of us began laughing at the same time. We stood there and laughed until the mirth trailed away, reignited, and brought forth another bout of laughter. Eventually we wound down to a final chuckle. We stood in the aisle and studied the toilet repair kits on the pegboard wall. They were like books in a foreign language.

“Well,” I said to him. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” he said.

I nodded.

“I think I won’t eat those peaches.”

We started laughing again, this time longer, slapping each other’s arms. Pretty soon one of us just had to mutter “peaches” to start all over again. Race was no more important to us than plumbing parts or shopping at a secondhand store. We were two Southern men laughing together in an easy way, linked by class and food.

On the surface, John T. and I should have been able to laugh in a similar way last spring. We have more in common than the store clerk and I do. John T. and I share race, status, and regional origin. We are close to the same age. We are sons of the South. We’re both writers, married with families. John T. and I have cooked for each other, gotten drunk together, and told each other stories. We live in the same town, have the same friends.

But none of that mattered in the face of social class, an invisible and permanent division. It’s the boundary John T. had the courage to ask me to write about. The boundary that made me lie about the secondhand store last spring. The boundary that still fills me with shame and anger. A boundary that only food can cross.

Chris Offutt grew up in Haldeman, Kentucky. He is the author of Kentucky Straight, Out of the Woods, The Same River Twice, No Heroes,  and The Good Brother. He has written screenplays for True Blood, Weeds, and Treme,  and TV pilots for Fox, Lionsgate, and CBS. He lives in Oxford, Mississippi. 

GUSTAVO DUDAMEL: The One, True Dude!

Some readers of English with McCabe, especially some new fans of Gustavo Dudamel from English 1A--and I know there are some old friends of The Dude himself, out there, too--who might want to know more about him and even see him live, on the podium. 

The Los Angeles Philharmonic has put together a page (or is it pages?) on Dudamel. The overwhelming Dudamel website can be found here..  Hunt around on the site, get information about concerts, Dudamel's recording history, video interviews with him, and music, music, music. He does conduct concerts during the summer at the Hollywood Bowl  and, of course, he conducts the Los Angeles Philharmonic at Disney Hall, which was designed by architect Frank Gehry.  It is not uncommon for additional tickets to be released the day of that night's concert, even for performances previously announced as "sold out."

Tickets go fast for his performances, but with some planning and persistence you can get in without having to pay ransom prices to a scalper.

KAIRO ORTEZ POSTED THAT STUDENT TICKETS FOR DISNEY HALL ARE AVAILABLE FOR PERFORMANCES.  SEE THE COMMENTS SECTION.  THANKS, KAIRO!

On Sunday May 16th, 2010 Dudamel was profiled once more on 60 Minutes. See this other 60 Minutes page about him too. The program follows his first year as the music director of the L.A. Philharmonic and work with Los Angeles youth orchestras.

Guess whose in the news, again?  Do I need to tell you?  Didn't think so. Search "Gustavo Dudamel" on Google. You'll find plenty. Read about LA Phil Live and how Dudamel and the  Los Angeles Philharmonic perform concerts that are HD broadcast in movie theaters.