On Memorial Day Weekend 2012, Peter and I headed for a weekend at Waldport. We drove up to Philomath, then drove down the Alsea River. We made a pit stop at Clemens Park and stayed a while as the larkspur was in bloom, and the river brought back memories to Peter.
I put this together like a journal entry, trying to capture the rhythm of a mind, a set of eyes, and an interaction with another person’s memory. Audio turned out rougher than I would have liked, but maybe next time I’ll get it right!
This was the first week at camp, one like you could never have known. You couldn’t have, you were far too young to know what I don’t know now. You were a kid on Long Island’s South Shore. You might have gone to Montauk or Cape Cod, but this week for you was probably the beaches of Pt Lookout with Aunt Carolyn (dead over a decade now) eating Entenmann’s Cookies and experiencing life with the anxiety at the margins. Beach, sun, evening visits from the ice cream truck, Italian Ices, pizza—these were all at center of the universe. You might remember some textures like the sand in your toes or the flourescent burn from the first few days out.
No, the pictures I can share with you 33 years later are in the woods—not an ocean for hours—with three whose life runs through you now and probably ran through you then, somewhere, in some unreleased packet. They are you now.
I think we are all getting excited about the beginning of Summer and the prospect of exploring some possibilities at camp (Miles in Minecraft?). I am trying to make sure these three have some sense of who you are, what your world is like, and how those you knew that they never could in the same way are narrated. I want to use the time at camp with them to help them understand the stories we shared, the people we knew, and the places we saw.
I guess I am writing to you because I feel like a see you all the time now, it’s fun seeing you again, even if remotely through my blog. I have no pictures of you at that time, I really don’t know exactly what you look like, but I know the people you know. I have found a lot of their traces in old photo albums. They need to be part of this story we make for you over the coming weeks.
Already having my own domain and website, as well as nearly all of the requisite social media accounts, completing Week 1 of DS106 – Camp Magic Macguffin was a pretty easy thing to start. The bulk of the first … Continue reading →
While I have more than enough already to do, this week I decided to dust off the old Fritzwinkle.com and jump into this summer’s version of DS106, Camp Magic Macguffin. Since I have been doing a lot of research and … Continue reading →
For today’s Daily Create which asks us to represent the moon somehow, I immediately thought of the Three Moon Wolf shirt, which is an internet phenomenon that Tom Woodward turned me onto more than a year ago. In short, the Amazon page for this somewhat cheesy t-shirt design has become the inspiration for a comment campaign that has earned this piece of clothing a kind of internet cult status. According to many the shirt has magical qualities that are bestowed to any who wear it. This mythology around the Three Wolf Moon shirt was born out of the more than 2400 product reviews, add to that 48,000 users voting on the comment narrative and you have a pretty compelling example of freeform participatory storytelling. And after all that the shirt still has a rating of 4.5 out of 5 stars on Amazon. It’s one of those fascinating cases where the most unlikeliest of stories plays out in the comment fields of a seemingly unremarkable item on a commercial site.
For today’s Daily Create I photoshopped in the Three Chinese Officals meme which actually doubles as a design assignment (3 stars—which is far too many for this!). I love the idea of three hovering Chinese government officials congregating in front of duPont wondering what’s going to come out of the epicenter of Teaching and Learning technologies next.
Imagine a life where possibilities are opening at a speed that veers unpredictably between exhilarating and terrifying. The familiar, precisely because it’s familiar and safe, still tugs at you, but even so, you want out because your old life constricts as much as it comforts. Besides, your social milieu, which often feels like an endless struggle to achieve, or resist being slotted into some arbitrary niche—pretty, ugly, smart, dumb, athlete, klutz—is changing fast. You feel driven—by inner need and outside pressure—to make choices. Meanwhile, the manipulative, often harsh, powers that be, who created the larger world they’re busy shoving you into, have clearly not done a bang-up job of it, either in their personal lives or as part of society. And they want you to get out there and ?x their mistakes—just at a moment when worry over the imminent demise of their entire socio-economic structure is never far from the surface. It can be cruel and scary out there. Dystopian, even.
Chances are, anyone not imagining this life, but actually living it, is a teenager.
In some ways, I guess it is natural that the TALONS class would incorporate into its evolving storytelling and myth-making the influences of dystopian literature, fan fiction, and the classic zombie film. In the background of the class’ study of novels, history, and current events, math and science, the approaching Adventure Trip (constituting the class’ Leadership 11 Final Exam), the class blog has become the setting for unfolding video, and literary riffs on the classroom setting, as well as TALONS characters enacting both a five part series of zombie films and an epic, multi-authored fan fiction bringing the Hunger Games to the afternoon corhort.
There is no avoiding the violent nature of the Hunger Games, and each post begins with a variation of the following caveat:
(Warning: The following post depicts scenes of violence, using fictionalized examples of real people. Please do not read if you might find any of this offensive / disturbing. This narrative is for educational purposes only. Any references and ideas taken from the Hunger Games trilogy are the strict property of the brilliant Suzanne Collins).
But what I find remarkable about the TALONS versions of each story – and perhaps what constitute each genre’s appeal with today’s young people – is an awareness and an articulation of the human qualities that perpetuate our survival in desperate times, whether in real life, a zombie movie, or young adult fan-fiction. Each are excellent examples of using an existing structure of genre or plot-line to tell a story that is uniquely personal.
Check them out (and don’t miss the informative ‘Legend‘ to help see into the intricacies of the class dynamic at work in the story):
The platforms stilled, each tribute squinting in the sudden light, trying to adjust to their surroundings. They were standing in the middle of a field of grass, an enormous ancient stone city before them, practically crumbling before their eyes. Behind them was a forest, thick with every kind of tree, green and lush with life. The tributes looked around, dazed by the beauty of their surroundings. For a moment, all thoughts of death and murder disappeared out of their heads, but seconds later, the gong sounded and each tribute shot off their platform, scattering in all directions.
Morning came and Bronwyn wasn’t prepared. She had hardly slept that night after yet another cannon had roared, causing her to wonder who had died this time. She exhaled softly and packed up quickly, sliding down the tree ready for day 2. The moment she hit the ground, she heard the sound of feet running. She ran and leapt behind a bush, peering through and seeing, to her surprise, Leanne. She was standing in the middle of a clearing, holding a badminton racquet. Bronwyn frowned. A badminton racquet? What kind of a cruel trick was that? But suddenly, the small hole Bronwyn had been staring through darkened as someone stood in front of it.
Chelsea climbed up the tree, searching for a place to stay. Sean climbed close behind, trying not to look down. He didn’t know why he had saved Chelsea, but he had. Shaking his head, Sean called up to Chelsea that he had found a branch. Swinging sideways, Sean landed on the branch and pressed himself against the trunk, closing his eyes and listening for any noises. Instead, the anthem played and Sean blinked and looked up at the darkened sky.
About half an hour later, Alisha was happily roasting several chunks of meat over a spit. She leaned forward and studied them carefully, inspecting them and making sure they were cooked thoroughly. Then, with quick and precise hands, she whipped out a handful of Japanese Yew berries and stuffed them into the meat.
Humming to herself, Zoe loaded up Jonny’s crossbow, and crouched down, lying on her belly and began to aim. Alisha had been right. Only one could win.
Camp is now over (see the final story. If you are craving an experience like this, head over to ds106 and see how to participate. For more on the Summer of Magic Macguffin, see.....
