We read stories and poems byJamaica Kincaid. Tobias Wolffe. Maura Dooley. Scott Banks, Louise Gluck and Natalie Diaz.
We read stories and poems byJamaica Kincaid. Tobias Wolffe. Maura Dooley. Scott Banks, Louise Gluck and Natalie Diaz. Relationship between pa rents and their daughters and sons have a dynamic— a structure or character of how the two interact. For example, a parent may be domineering, irresponsible, loving. impatient, or overbearing. A son or daughter may be obedient, frustrated, appreciative, independent, resentful. or defiant, Choose a story that is closest to the parenting dynamic you have with one ofyour parents, even if it isn’t very close at all. (Remember, in our class a parent is anyone who parents}. Find a word to describe the parenting dynamic in the chosen text, show how the author reveals that parenting dynamic, and then compare and/or contrast the pa renting dynamic in your life to that one. Here’s an example ofan outline you could use: |. lntrod uction II. Show how author reveals parenting dynamic in chosen text “I. Show effect (or guess at the effect) on the child in chosen text Vl. Describe your own parenting dynamic, give a concrete example V. Conclusion: Compare and/or contrast parenting dynamic in chosen text to the one in your life
Powder by Tobias Wolff I Just before Christmas my father took me skiing at Mount Baker, He’d had to fight for the privilege of my company. because my mother was still angry with him for sneaking me into a nightclub during his last visit, to see Thelonious Monk} He wouldn’t give up. He promised. hand on heart. to take good care of me and have me home for dinner on Christmas Eve. and she relented. But as we were checking out of the lodge that morning it began to snow. and in this snow he observed some rare quality that made it necessary for us to gel in one last run. We got in several last runs. lie was indifferent to my fretting, Snow whirled around us in bitter. blinding squalls, hissing like sand. and still we skied. As llu: liil bore us to the peak yet again. my father looked at his wateh and said. "(‘riminy. This’ll have to be a fast one.” By now I couldn’t see the trail. There was no point in trying [ stuck close behind him and tiitl what he did and somehow made it to the bottom without sailing off a cliff. We returned our skis and my father put chains on the .mistin-llealey’2 while i swayed from foot to loot. chipping my mittens and wishing l was home. I could see everything. The green tablecloth. the plates with the holly pattern. the red candles waiting to be lit, 4 We passed a diner on our way out. "You want some soup?” my father asked. I shook my head. “Buck up.” he said. “l’ll get you there. Right. doctor?" < l was supposed to say. “Right. doctor." but I didn’t say anything. n A state trooper waved us down otltside the resort. when: a pair of sawhorses blocked the mad. I]: came up to our car and bent down to my father’s window. his face bleached by the cold. snowflakes clinging to his eyebrows and to the fur trim of his jacket and cap. “Don’t tell me." my father said. it The trooper told him.Tlu: road was closed. ltmight getcleared, it might not. Storm took everyone by surprise. Hard to get people moving. Christmas Eve. What can you do. a My father said, “Look. We’re talking about five, six inches. I’ve taken this car through worse than that." tr) The trooper straightened up. His face was out of sight but i could hear him. “The road is closed.”
l-t IS Ih IT I! Si] no r… r… r4 4 a. My father sat with both hands on the wheel, rubbing the wood with his thumbs. He looked at the ban-icade for a long time. He seemed to be trying to master the idea of it. Then he thanked the trooper and with a weird, old-maidy show of caution turned the car around. “Your mother will never forgive me for this,” he said. “We should’ve tefi this morning," I said. “Doctor.” He didn’t speak to me again until we were in a booth at the diner. waiting for our burgers. “She won’t forgive me," he said. “Do you understand? Never.” “I guess." I said. though no guesswork was required. She wouldn’t forgive him. “1 can’t let that happen.” He bent toward me "I’ll tell you what I want, 1 want us all to be together again. Is that what you want?" “Yes, sir." He humped my chin with his knuckles. “That’s all I needed to hear." When we finished eating he went to the pay phone in the back of the diner. then joined me in the booth again. I figured he’d called my mother. but he didn’t give a report. He sipped at his cofiee and stared out the window at the empty road. “Come on. come on," he said1 though not to me. A little while later he said it again. When the trooper’s car went past. lights flashing. he got up and dropped some money on the check. “Okay. Kimonos." The wind had died. The snow was falling straight down. less of it now and lighter. We drove away from the resort. right up to the barricade. “Move it,” my father told me. When I looked at him. he said. "What are you waiting for?” I got out and dragged one of the sawhorses aside. then put it back after he drove through. He pushed the dDIJr open for me. "Now you’re an accomplice.” he said. “We go down together.” He put the car into gear and gave me a look, "Joke. son.” Down the first long stretch I watched the road behind us, to see if the trooper was on curtail. The barricade vanished. Then there was nothing but snow: snow on the road, snow kicking up from the chains. snow on the trees. snow in the sky. and our trail in the snow. Then I faced lonvard and had a shock. There were no tracks ahead of us. My father was breaking virgin snow between tall treelines. lie was humming “Stars Fell on Alabama." [ i’elt snow brush along the floorboards under my feet, To keep my hands from shaking l clamped them between my knees My father grunted thoughtfially and said. “Don’t ever try this yourself." "I won’t.” “That’s what you say now. but someday you’ll get your license and then you’ll think you can do any1hing. Only you won’t be able to do this. You need. I don’t know—a certain instinct." “Maybe I have it.” “You don’t. You have your strong points. 5ure,just not this. 1 only mention it because I don’t want you to get the idea this is something anybody can do, I’m a great driver. That’s not a virtue, okay? It’s just a fact. and one you should be aware of. Of course you have to give the old heap some credit too. There aren’t many cars I’d try this with. Listen!” I did listen. I heard the slap of the chains. the stiff. jerky rasp of the wipers, the purr of the engine. It really did purr. The old heap was almost new. My father couldn’t afford it, and kept promising to sell it, but here it was,
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