I published two poems in 2018, “Yes and No” in Ploughshares (not currently available online) and this poem, “A Liking for Clocks,” in Poetry Ireland Review. These are the first two poems I’ve published from the manuscript I’m working on now, and it was really wonderful to have them appear in two magazines I admire so much alongside so many poems I was happy to discover.
I’m reading at Malaprop’s on Sunday, July 8, in the Poetrio series with Chris Abbate and Jennie Boyd Bull. (That link is a great place to purchase books and support an independent bookstore. They also have some unique book-lovers’ merchandise.)
That quotation is from Hilary Mantel’s Paris Review interview, and I quote it in this interview with Bree Tadish from the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program. Three more weeks until winter classes start! Here’s one question and answer:
What do you hope your students get from your course(s)?
I hope that from the first day students feel that their journey as writers, wherever they happen to be in it, is honored by all of us in the workshop. This craft is never finished, no one has cracked the code, we’re all humbled by the art. If the class can serve as a welcoming, stimulating place where people can take artistic risks and receive feedback that helps them understand their own ambitions as artists better, they can keep growing as writers long after the course is over. The best classes I ever took made me both more humble about how hard it is to write well, and more audacious in my own ambitions, and I think humility and audacity make a great combination for any artist.
I’m offering a Poetry I workshop through the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program in Winter Quarter 2018. This is the first poetry workshop UCLA Extension is offering at their new Woodland Hills (Warner Center) location, which is making their course offerings more accessible to San Fernando Valley residents! (And maybe the Conejo Valley too?)
The course description and registration information are here. Poetry I is suitable for writers with a range of experience levels: it’s an appropriate course for those who haven’t taken a poetry class or workshop before, of course, but I also expect to welcome poets with more experience who are seeking the community and accountability of a weekly workshop. I don’t think there’s ever such a thing as a workshop where everyone is starting from the same place; always, you meet people where they are, and move on from there. You can leave me a message here or email me at nancohen at ucla dot edu if you have any questions!
I’m really looking forward to this! As you can probably tell, Carol V. Davis and I have a few things in common. It wasn’t deliberately planned to have two poets of Russian Jewish ancestry reading on the same afternoon, but since it happened this way, there should be babka and tea, don’t you think?
The Teachers Tournament is in reruns right now–last week was the quarterfinals, and this week we have three days of semifinals and then the two-day final. So I’ll wait to finish this account until the reruns are over.
Two events for your consideration:
- Chevalier’s Books in Larchmont Village here in Los Angeles presents a reading on Thursday, September 7, at 7 PM with poets Charif Shanahan and Victoria Chang and fiction writer Siel Ju.
- I am so excited to be reading with Lisa Rosenberg at Florey’s Book Company in Pacifica, California, on the beautiful Bay Area coast. 7:30 PM, Saturday, September 16. There’s an open mic, too!
As of this writing, the Teachers’ Tournament has been over for about six weeks, a few dozen more contestants have come down the pike, and we’re heading into the last month or so of Season 33. It’s also summer, so I have time to finish up this narrative. Let’s get going.
The three semifinal games were taped in the morning of taping day #2. After fetching a large cup of coffee from the lobby (where I ran into George and his adorable toddler daughter), I got all the way down to the hotel lobby and just past the unnerving waxwork of Robert Pattinson before realizing I’d left my extra outfits upstairs. Fortunately, I was a little early and had time to go back up and grab them. Then it was on to the bus and off to the studio for the ten of us–nine semifinalists and Dennis, who, as the highest-scoring quarterfinalist without a wild card spot, was our official alternate for the day.
I don’t remember a lot about the morning except that it seemed more relaxed than the previous day, with no contestant briefing on the bus and no flurry of paperwork. We got our makeup done, of course, and I’m pretty sure we had a short rehearsal with the buzzers before the audience arrived, once again at 11:15.
I had fewer people in the audience than on the day we taped the quarterfinals because my former students and their friends weren’t attending, and my daughter couldn’t miss school because she had the second-to-last band concert of the year in the evening (which we drove straight to after the taping). But I still had my husband, mom, and cousins.
Another difference between the first and second taping days was that we no longer had to be sequestered. Gail, Sara and David were called to the first game, and the rest of us sat in the audience to watch until just before Final Jeopardy!, when Eduardo, Susannah and I were called to get miked and touched up for the second game. We watched Final Jeopardy! on a monitor in the greenroom. David was ahead with $17,600, but Gail and Sara were also very much in the game with $12,600 and $13,200:
THE PULITZER PRIZES: In 1947 a journalist from the Washington Post became the last to win a Pulitzer for national reporting by this means
The reveal of the answers turned out to be a nailbiter as there was some delay while the judges determined that they would accept David’s answer, “telegram,” as well as Sara’s “telegraph.” He had originally written “telegraph,” crossed it out and written “telegram,” and for a moment it looked as though he had talked himself out of the right answer. But it was accepted, and David became the first finalist.
The previous day, Susannah and I had discovered that we attended the same school, McDonogh School in Owings Mills, Maryland, graduating thirteen years apart and having a number of the same teachers. She’d even had one of my best friends from high school, who had returned to teach there, as her freshman physics teacher. Even weirder, both of our mothers had worked at the school, and both were present at the taping–they’d recognized one another in the audience on the first taping day. Now she and I took up our positions at the first and second podium, with Eduardo taking the third–a real Mid-Atlantic lineup, with two of us being from Maryland and Eduardo from the Virginia suburbs of D.C.
Susannah was quick out of the gate, running the “You’re So Possessive!” category and notching a true Daily Double of $1,200. Once again, I started slow on the buzzer, not successfully ringing in until the tenth question, and came into the Double Jeopardy! round with $3,400 after misidentifying San Bernardino County as San Diego. I’m sure both Susannah and I rued not beating Eduardo to the buzzer on a clue about the original title of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” “Defense of Fort _____,” since there’s hardly a child in Baltimore County who isn’t taken on a field trip to Fort McHenry, but the round went so fast that we didn’t have time for regrets. I still felt frustrated by the buzzer as Susannah and Eduardo made short work of a “Theatre” category and answered the first four “TV Campus” questions, but at least I captured the $2000 question, about the TV show based on Lev Grossman’s novel The Magicians (I’d heard Lev speak at the Antioch University MFA residency a couple of years ago). Still, slightly more than halfway through Double Jeopardy! I was still significantly behind, with $6,200 to Susannah’s $9,600 and Eduardo’s $12,200.
All through my preparation for the show, I’d tried to steel myself against the possibility of falling behind in my score, panicking and ringing in to guess at questions I didn’t know. I’d been struck by how many winners claimed that they didn’t look at their score between commercial breaks, and indeed, the game moves so fast that arguably looking at your score is a dangerous distraction except when you need it to wager. So at this point I doubt I recognized how far behind I was–I just kept looking at the board and trying to ring in when I knew the answer. I answered the first question in “-Isms and -Ologies” (“This religious movement centered in Jamaica is based on the idea of an African messiah”*) and then hit a Daily Double on the next question in the category.
And here’s where I really owe Keith Williams a beer, because if I hadn’t been following The Final Wager I don’t know that I would have had the guts to bet all but $1,000 of the $6,600 I had then. I saw that I had a chance to catch up with Eduardo, that it was a category I felt reasonably confident in, and that even if I didn’t get the question, there was still enough on the board that it wasn’t absolutely impossible for me to make up the loss (although even if there hadn’t been, it was still the right move, because you want to be in the lead going into FJ, and because FJ is almost always harder than a Daily Double). So I bet $5,600–I think Alex repeated the number with a touch of surprise–and I got this question:
The two similar-sounding words for the study of insects and the study of word origins
and I very carefully enunciated “What are entomology and etymology?” and tied Eduardo for first place.
The rest of the game was fast and furious–I was surprised at how exciting it was when I watched it a couple of months later in the back room of a pub with a bunch of friends and a few students who are my daughter’s friends (coincidentally, they’d had their last concert of the year, an afternoon outdoor jazz performance, on the night my semifinal game aired). I knew the outcome, of course, but I didn’t realize how suspenseful it would be to watch it. There were even questions I didn’t remember getting! So much luck involved–I seemed to get lucky on the buzzer for the higher-value questions and miss the lower ones. I was frustrated not to be able to answer the $2,000 Triple Stumper in the “Awful World Leaders” category–I could remember Rita Dove’s masterful poem “Parsley,” which is about the cruelty of Rafael Trujillo, but in the moment I couldn’t think of his name. But I went into Final Jeopardy! in first place with $18,200.
SCULPTURE: The book From Marble to Flesh is a biography of this statue that was created from 1501 to 1504
Well. I immediately thought of Michelangelo’s David. Not knowing the exact dates, I cast around in my mind for something else it could be. The only other one I could think of was the Pietà, and, well, the David just has so much more flesh. It was a bit unnerving, feeling that it had to be the right answer but not coming up with a more solid reason why. However, we all got it, and I became a finalist with a winning score of $23, 601 (a dollar more than if Eduardo had doubled).
After the tournament aired, several of the contestants converged on Dallas/Fort Worth for a mini-reunion on Memorial Day weekend–David lives there, Lindsey drove in from Waco, and Mary and Cody came down from Arkansas. I went too, seizing the opportunity to also catch up with a friend from college who lives in Fort Worth. With David, Mary, and Cody in the gift shop at the Dallas Museum of Art, I bought two pairs of these and sent them to Susannah and Eduardo:
*Rastafarianism (another word I pronounced very carefully).
Are you noticing that the 2017 Teachers Tournament group is not visibly diverse? Because I did. And am.
I’m glad I got to be in it–so glad! And I’m grateful to have met these delightful people, whom I now consider friends. They are a kind group of dedicated educators representing different regions of the country (from Vermont, Arkansas, Wisconsin, New Mexico, Virginia, California, Texas, Michigan, Maryland), different communities (urban, suburban, rural) and schools that vary greatly in size, organization, and philosophy. We had, and continue to have, some wonderful conversations drawing on our varied backgrounds and experiences.
But we also reflect an important issue in American education right now, which is that more than 80% of teachers are white, even as students of color have become a majority in public schools:
Few would say that a black child needs to be taught by a black teacher or that a Latino or Asian child cannot thrive in a class with a white teacher. “Ultimately, parents are going to respect anybody who they think cares for their kids,” said Andres Antonio Alonso, a professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. “But if there are no people who somehow mirror the parents and the kids, then I think there could be a problem.” (Motoko Rich, “Where Are the Teachers of Color?”)
I am not exaggerating when I say that in four years as a department chair, I have helped hire more faculty of color than I was taught by in my first thirteen years of education. I did not have a black teacher until college, when I had one (James Snead, of blessed memory).
Why this is so is not simple. The linked article cites pay, working conditions, lack of autonomy to make changes to benefit students.
Jeopardy! itself has become more visibly diverse since the days when Maya Angelou called out the program in 1995 for only rarely having Black contestants. Among the show’s most successful contestants of recent years are some who are African American or biracial. You may remember, for example, Teen Tournament semifinalist Brandon Saunders, who is currently on what looks like a campaign to conquer every game show in the U.S., or possibly the world; Matt Jackson, who has the fourth longest winning streak in Jeopardy! history and who told Alex Trebek, “My mother is white, liberal and Jewish, and my dad is black, Christian and conservative”; and, of course, Colby Burnett, the Chicago history teacher who is, so far, the only Teachers Tournament winner to also win the Tournament of Champions.
And yet the group I auditioned with in Los Angeles, a city that is now almost half Latino or Hispanic, 10% Asian, and almost 10% Black or African American, appeared predominantly white and Asian.
And it’s still a matter for comment when an African American or Latino contestant appears on the show, let alone wins. Particularly if she is a woman.
I asked Kaberi from last year’s tournament for her thoughts–you may recall from my previous posts that she teaches bilingual students in a Chicago suburb, and she’s South Asian–and here’s part of her response:
One of Newton’s Laws of Physics say, essentially, objects will continue to do whatever they are doing until some force is applied to change that. I think the same is true of game show contestants. If minorities are underrepresented in the potential contestant pool, the show runners should seek them out, make sure they are in a position to audition successfully, even develop programs for young minority children to develop their knowledge base.
And this is especially true for the Teachers Tournament. Why? Because the Teachers Tournament shows are by far the most likely to be watched by young people, the shows’ future contestants. And if Latino or African American or other minority students don’t see contestants who look like them, they will inevitably come to the conclusion that they don’t belong in that community.
And the reverse is also true. In the same way that Barack Obama’s presidency was powerful for the simple fact that he existed, that African American students could watch TV every day for 8 years and see a black man in the Oval Office, they would inevitably conclude that this was possible for them as well. But, like Newton’s law, this is something that will not change on its own. It needs a force to make it change, and that force will have to come from the show’s producers.
I love the way she frames this with Newton, don’t you?
Looking at the show’s social media advertising for the upcoming contestant test, it seems to me that they’re trying hard to send a message of inclusivity. Now that I’m looking for those short “What can you do in 13 minutes?” videos that have been popping up in my Facebook feed, of course I can’t find them, but I seem to remember the featured actors are young and nonwhite (a reminder that Jeopardy! needs to keep building its future viewership). I definitely saw Ian from last year’s Teachers Tournament, who is African American, in one of the photo ads, and, as I’ve mentioned, Chris from Pennsylvania:
There’s a lot more in play than what the become-a-contestant ads look like, of course. I’ve written a lot in these blog posts about not being ready to risk failure, having to surmount fears of looking stupid, coming to believe that neither a win or loss would mean anything about me. Stereotype threat is a factor for me because I’m a woman, and at some level, I’m sure I still believe that the people who are really good at trivia are nerdy white men, despite plenty of experiences to the contrary, including playing on a trivia team with two women multi-day champions and having seen Colby Burnett demolish the competition at TCONA. And I’m a significantly privileged woman, with perhaps a bit of stereotype boost from being Jewish?–and even with many advantages conferred by color and class and education, there have been obstacles:
- The fear of being shamed for aspiring in the first place: “Who do you think you are?”
- The fear of being shamed for falling short: “You didn’t prepare enough/try hard enough/know enough,” all conducing to “You’re not enough.”
- The fear of letting the group down: “You’re supposed to be a teacher, and you didn’t know that?”
And something I haven’t really mentioned here yet:
- The fear of becoming the target of some sort of online (let alone real-world) vitriol, as seems to happen more often to women (see Talia Levin’s piece for Broadly), transgender people, gay men and lesbians who mention their partners on air (just read the Jeopardy! Facebook page comments), and, though I haven’t found much written about it, almost certainly to women and men of color as well, if Viraj Mehta’s experience after becoming famous for possibly accidentally flipping the bird while explaining differential geometry is any indication. (On those Facebook comments, you’ll sometimes also see viewers complaining about too much black history in the questions–you get the sense that any black history, or any implication that American history is black history, is going to be too much for some people.)
These aren’t things to be overcome by ourselves and within ourselves alone, even though some of us will be able to overcome them without much apparent help. If we want to nurture students’ interest in engineering, we create opportunities for kids to learn robotics and chances for them to cooperate with and compete against one another; if we want to send a synchronized swimming team to the Olympics, we find coaches, look for the talent, get the talent in the pool. I think this goes for teachers–a profession for which, in this country, we do very little to cultivate and nurture talent–and for Jeopardy! contestants as well.
It’s great to have the airing of the quarterfinal game behind me! I was kind of anxious and keyed up last week. I felt weird and exposed and everything was heightened and I had trouble with naming the feelings I was having. (I actually wrote a poem, years ago, about the attribution of emotion; it’s the title poem of my first book, Rope Bridge.) Maybe there just isn’t a word for the emotion of achieving a long-held goal while also feeling unpleasantly exposed by the very medium in which that goal has to be accomplished. (You know, publishing a first book is a little bit like that. But it was a book of poems, so the exposure was objectively much, much smaller.)
We held the viewing party in the library at school and I cannot think of one thing that would have made it more awesome. We had students, pizza, a giant prop check from Farmers Insurance Thank America’s Teachers, people from Jeopardy!, a local Farmers agent handing out prizes at commercial breaks, and–fantastic surprise!–Jimmy from the Clue Crew.
— Jeopardy! (@Jeopardy) May 12, 2017
We also invited people to play along and pledge money for their correct answers to the Friends of Kayany, a U.S. group that supports the Kayany Foundation in its efforts to provide education and nutrition to Syrian refugee children living in Informal Tented Settlements in Lebanon. It was really fun to watch the students and staff play along and cheer one another’s correct answers. And we raised over $2000!
Although I remembered little from the taping of the game, I did remember that it had taken me a little while to start buzzing in, partly because I needed to let a bunch of TV DRAMAS questions go by and then I needed to get lucky on the buzzer. I think people at the viewing party had time to get worried, because they gave me a big round of applause when I finally rang in (category: ONCE UPON A TIME) on the clue In some versions of the fairy tale, she survives only after the woodsman cuts open the wolf and frees her. It was as if they were worried I might not get anything after “Little Red Riding Hood.”
I could feel people relax after I got a few clues in a row in the category THIS IS “US.” I know I had a really odd look on my face for the Daily Double question in that category: Violinist Jascha Heifetz was born in this Baltic capital in 1901. The reason is that we’d just heard the name Vilnius that morning in the contestant briefing. I remembered it as an example of how, if you don’t know the pronunciation of a word, you should try to pronounce every letter. Andy Saunders of The Jeopardy Fan just reminded me (before this evening’s Live Panel roundtable, which you can watch here) of an instance when a contestant transposed two letters and wrote VILNUIS, which was ruled incorrect. I believe that was part of the briefing, too. So when I looked puzzled, answered the question, and then glanced at Michael and Lindsey, it was an “Are we being punked?” moment–in my head, anyway. I know it wasn’t intentional–the contestant coordinators don’t get anywhere near the questions, and I’m pretty sure I’d heard the same example in the previous year’s briefing (with no mention of the Baltic or Heifetz). It was just one of those weird coincidences. Nice, though, to learn that I share ancestry with Heifetz–my great-grandparents were Jews from Lithuania. (Although I’m definitely no Heifetz.)
Looking at the scores going into Final Jeopardy!, I am surprised that I bet to win the game. I had $15,400, which was almost certainly going to be good enough for a wild card. I remember seeing that the category FOREIGN WORDS AND PHRASES and knowing that Michael, who had $11,400, taught Spanish and had studied French and Portuguese. I figured that he would bet to win, and that if I could get it, he would almost certainly get it too. It was still a risk to bet, but it turned out okay:
Often used to describe artists ahead of their time, it was also the name of a youth militia in WWII Vichy France.
As so often happens, getting this one wasn’t really about knowledge, more about parsing the question correctly and making a lucky connection. Everyone I know who didn’t get this nevertheless knew the term, including Lindsey (who put ingénue, a much more resourceful guess than I would have been able to make if it hadn’t come to me). But both Michael and I put avant-garde; I won the game, but he boosted his score to $14,800 and in the end we both made it to the semifinals. I play Tuesday, he on Wednesday.