What Time Left Behind

Time magazine's cover story on No Child Left Behind is a much-needed evaluation of a controversial, complicated law. I mean, their first example is a school where, before the law was enacted, only 13% of fifth- and eighth-graders could read at grade level or above. Now that number is 36%. That's like a difference of...um...well, it's a big difference.

I've never read the actual document because it's, oh, 1,100 pages, so I'm only as familiar with the law as I am with the criticisms of it. (I'm barely getting through The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, and that's only because I have to for my book club.) This article helped put the statute in perspective. The purpose of the law was to expose failing schools and hold them accountable. And, according to Time, it's done just that.

It's almost everywhere else that the law has underperformed.

Raising student achievement? "Though some districts are reporting significant gains, results on national math and reading tests are mostly flat - so far." (Which is only kind of true - their own graphs show gains in math for fifth- and eighth-graders.)

Measuring school improvement? "The law's reliance on a single,pass-fail system for assessing 'adequate yearly progress' is one of its weakest points." In other words, every school has to reach a standardized plane of grade-level reading. So even kids who make significant gains but don't reach that plane are considered failures.

Raising standards for teachers? "NCLB is the first federal statute to require that teachers actually know the subjects they teach, though there are still some loopholes." Time gave NCLB a mixed review for what it expects of teachers, and teachers have some problems with NCLB. 30,000 educators (and concerned citizens) have signed an online petition against the statute.*

Helping schools improve? "Even the department of Education concedes that its remedies for chronic school failure are not working." Ouch. None of the remedies, which include tutoring and transferring students to non-failing schools, "have any basis in reality or research," says one research professor of education at NYU. Ooh, snap.

The part I was most interested in reading about was how NCLB's intense focus on standardized testing for math and reading leaves other subjects overlooked. With so much time dedicated to taking tests (a skill some smart children aren't good at, to begin with), the article explains how science and social studies have suffered.

I was surprised that the authors left it at that. While those are undoubtedly essential subjects, I was expecting them to then explore the lack of art, music and physical education in our grade schools. Granted, their suggestions for NCLB's improvement include schools providing more information about "achievement in the arts" but the suggestion seems half-assed. What about the effects on students' morale, engagement and, indeed, performance in other subjects due to the dwindling focus on art and music? There have been studies done (they're what VH1's entire "Save the Music" foundation is based on), so why weren't they even briefly referenced?

Even more blatant is overlooking the consequences of diminishing physical education. According to the National Center for Education Statistics (the same source for many of Time's figures), only 17-22% of elementary schools provided daily physical education in 2005. This is extremely important because childhood obesity seems to be growing as fast as a third-grader's waistband. (Seriously, has anyone at Time ever seen those overweight kids on Maury Povich? They eat grilled cheese sandwiches the way others eat french fries) Yes, there are other contributing factors, such as eating habits and extra-curricular activities. But do they think recess makes up for no gym class? Are they thinking about this at all?

Almost 1 in every 3 kids is overweight or at the risk of becoming overweight. It's a greasy, oily, deep-fried downward spiral from there. The huge increase in rates of childhood obesity has led to increased rates of childhood diabetes, so much so that "adult-onset diabetese" has changed names to just "type 2 diabetese" since so many kids have it now. Along with increased blood pressure and stress, today's children are on the road to lifelong health problems. And according to the American Heart Association in 2006, the direct national cost of treating obesity-related diseases are already estimated at $61 billion. That number could go up and up as these overweight children turn into overweight adults. Of course, this problem began before NCLB, but that program's intense emphasis on standardized testing has exacerbated it.

I just couldn't believe Time didn't even touch on this subject. Granted, it's already a long article (almost as long as this post), but still. If it's going to be a comprehensive evaluation of the program, negative side effects should be mentioned, if not thoroughly explored.

Time's final grade for No Child Left Behind? C.

My final grade for Time's article? B.

*Updated - Thanks to input from Philip, this part was modified as the original phrasing may have contained misleading implications regarding the motivations behind the teacher's petition.

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Feist Feels It All. A lot.

The cover of Feist's second album, The Reminder, shows rainbow lasers beaming from her throat, symbolizing either her colorful singing or that her neck is really gay. Feist (she dropped her first name, Leslie) was the lead singer for the punk band Placebo (but not the more famous band of the same name), sang with indie rock supergroup Broken Social Scene and even collaborated with her ex-roommate, the raunchy electro/punk goddess Peaches. Since the rainbow beams are both behind and in front of her, maybe it's saying that her colorful past informs her colorful music?

OK, so I'm overthinking it, but overthinking seems right up Feists's alley. The lyrics produce a cohesive vision of a self-reflective, independent woman who questions relationships but always acknowledges her own roles and flaws in them. Check out the uptempo, wonderfully complicated "I Feel It All," where Feist starts out chanting phrases like the title, "the wings are wide," "wild card inside," and "I know more than I knew before." It's as if she's psyching herself up to tackle the obstacles in her relationship ("No one likes to take a test"). But the head-boppy, guitar-strumming music is so upbeat, as is her delivery, that it sounds like Feist is ready to take it all on.

Then there's the first single, "1234." Finger snaps, cascading pianos, bright horn sections, a back-up chorus and a banjo all swirl around some of my favorite lyrics on the album. "1234, tell me that you love me more/sleepless long nights that is what my youth was for" - I love it! In other words: "Hi, yeah, I'm not a teenager anymore, so that brooding, too-cool, anti-commitment thing isn't going to work. Be emotionally available or I'm out." While so many pop stars over the age of 25 think they have to get caught up in relationship drama to appear youthful (what's up, Gwen Stefani?), it's refreshing to hear a grown woman write emotionally developed, mature music, especially when she's so gosh-darn cute about them (to see what I mean, watch the video here).

With these gems, why does the album seem so long? Maybe it's because out of thirteen songs, about 8 of them are ballads. Seriously, Feist might be a mature, independent woman, but girl needs some caffeine. The lyrics are indeed insightful. Everyone can relate to "Intuition," which questions how and where one gets their feelings about the relationship they're in, such as when do you work at it? When do you move on? (It ends on the melancholy note: "It's impossible to tell/how important someone was/and what you might have missed out on...Did I miss out on you?" Pass the tissues. And the vodka.) It's lovely, but by the album's finale, these moments bordered on overly-precious.

It's not that the slower songs aren't good, but when more than half the album consists of a girl and her piano - plus some funky extra (but minimal) sounds and a lot of water/mountain metaphors (I'll let you figure that out) - they tend to blur together. Feist seems to get lost in her music, as if in a trance, where her vocals echo and wrap and warp around themselves to create more of an ambiance than a narrative. But when she picks up the pace, as in the haunting, jazzy "My Moon My Man" or the tribal "Sealion," her interpretation of Nina Simone's "See Line Woman," she creates an urgent sexiness without losing any of the mood or insight.

Because the Canadian singer-songwriter is riding a shallow but growing wave of buzz into the U.S., I was hoping her sophomore effort would showcase her range of musical interests and to some extent, it does. The instrumentation is creative, unpredictable and sometimes curious, but in a good way. She's a worldly pop chanteuse that just happens to sometimes play the banjo. (I might not know punk, but that seems pretty punk, right? Right?)

After touring for two and a half years supporting her first album, Let It Die, Feist cozied up with her band in a 200-year-old French manor house to record The Reminder. It's intimate, it's torchy, and even though she seems to have been dragged down by all the self-reflection, the overall album is beautiful. So after all that deep, profound self-analysis, let's just say the cover art for The Reminder is cool, and leave it at that.

Also check out: In Defense of Amy Winehouse.
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This Post is AWESUM

I just took a lovely walk through the tree-lined, sun-dappled streets of my neighborhood. I picked up some báhn mí sandwiches, shrimp rolls and steamed pork buns (tee-hee) at a new French-Vietnamese bakery. Hoping to score some limoncello, I stopped in a local liquor store. You know the kind: dirty floors, dirty shelves, merchandise that's been there since 1982, and a very weathered, heavily eye-linered woman behind the counter gruffly asking, "How ya doin'?" as if her throat was lined with sandpaper.

Anyway, they were out of limoncello (that stuff is hard to find, yo) so I picked up some citron vodka. As I was paying for it, I turned around to see a sign behind me:

Absolutely NO wireless communications allowed in this store.

Xplanation - They are VEXING and INSOLENT.

What I love about this is that it's so direct and yet it leaves so many questions. "Xplanation"? Doesn't spelling it like that deserve an xplanation of its own? Was that intentional? And is writing out an "E" such a time-sucking burden? For people who are so against "wireless communications," I would they think they'd find spelling a word like that cutesy and annoying. While this is not the first store to have rules against cell phones, it is the first I've seen to use such sophisticated and accurate adjectives.

Maybe it's not just the merchandise that's stuck in 1982 there. The ironic part is, if there wasn't such vexing wireless communications in the first place, they wouldn't have to put up such a great sign. I think that sign itself might justify all the unnecessary, attention-sapping and, yes, insolent technologies that the store owners are so against. But I wouldn't xplain that to them.

Deep Thoughts with Amy Sedaris

What Amy did when a rich uncle unexpectedly dropped in for a visit:

After he fell asleep, I sprinkled a trail of glitter from the window to his bed so when he awoke he could imagine a fairy had come to visit him while he was sleeping. I also gathered some bricks and stones from the basement that I could heat in the oven and place around his pillow to keep his head warm.

Something we could all learn from. Thanks, Amy.

Check out previous deep thoughts here!

102 Recipes Down!

Only 23 to go!

FINALLY! It's like there's a light at the end of the spaghetti noodle.

When I first started working my way through every recipe in Giada De Laurentiis' Everyday Italian, one of my first posts - way back in February, 2006 - finished with "6 down, 119 to go." Now I have less than two dozen in front of me.

Unfortunately, they're 23 of the more complicated dishes - some calling for a lot of fresh seafood, some with really long roasting times (not what I'm looking for when it's finally 80 degrees outside) and some that I've been avoiding simply because they don't really entice me. (I'm slowly working on my irrational hatred of eggplant.)

Some things that I'm learning along the way:

1) Throw whatever you got into your tomato sauce. Now, I understand that classic tomato sauces are hotly debated, what with the ratio of onion to garlic, vessel of sweetness (carrot or sugar?), and so forth. But, it seems that there's a lot of flexibility after you get the basic template down. Want it spicy? Add red pepper flakes...and then maybe some capers and olives to round out the flavor. Want it thicker? Add some pancetta and Parmesan. (Well, almost anything is better when you add bacon and cheese.)

2) Atkins is WRONG. Some carbs are not only delicious but good for you. Quinoa, a South American grain, can be easily substituted for rice, even in risotto. It won't be as creamy since it has less starch, but it's filling and tastes great. You can substitute low-fat (not non-fat) ricotta in your stuffed manicotti, soy milk (not vanilla) for cream in your frittata, and turkey for just about any recipe calling for pork sausage or ground beef.

3) It really does taste better homemade. I know: duh. When throwing together some turkey burgers, I was able to top them with homemade olive tapenade and homemade roasted peppers. Would it have been fine buried under jarred garnishes? Maybe. But I decided what kind of olives went into mine (no black ones, thank you). And the peppers had a smoky-sweet flavor and tender texture that you just don't find in the jarred kind. (Although Giada's recipe calls for the more laborious method of broiling the peppers instead of just charring them directly over gas stove burners.)

3a) ...Especially when it's fresh. As an addendum, sometimes rule #3 works only if you're using fresh ingredients. For instance, while it is convenient that Trader Joe's sells bags of frozen calamari rings, you'll still be able to tell they're frozen even after you've fried them. But then sometimes frozen is okay, like using their frozen red snapper for Giada's Roasted Red Snapper. So it's just a matter of trial and error. And not listening to me, apparently, since I just contradicted myself in one rule.

On another note, I realized a little while ago that I really should have started a separate blog for this project. But, a lot of what this blog does is intersect food with pop culture, and what better way to do that, while utilizing the immediate user-generated feedback the internet excels at, than by cooking my way through the cookbook of a Food Network star?

Anyway, I'm almost done with this project and I definitely will not be starting a similar project anytime soon. I'm ready and eager to mix it up with different recipes. Bring on the short ribs! And the...um...clementine cake! And the pistachio brownies! And the billion other recipes I've been drooling over the past year and half but putting off, all in the name of Giada. Just as long as they're covered in bacon and cheese (aw hell, why stop there? Smear some Nutella on while you're at it), I'll be just fine.

Also check out: The Food Detective.
And: Oysters and Mussels and Squid - Oh My!

Why I Love The Onion

Because of articles like this:

"Women Now Empowered By Everything A Woman Does"

My favorite part? Where they rip on Luna bars, the energy bars specifically for women:

'Unlike traditional, phallocentric energy bars, whose chocolate, soy protein, nuts, and granola ignored the special health and nutritional needs of women, their new, female-oriented counterparts like Luna are ideally balanced with a more suitable amount of chocolate, soy protein, nuts, and granola,' Klein said. 'Proto-feminist pioneers like Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony could never have imagined that female empowerment would one day come in bar form.'

I don't find this hilarious because I have any problem with products championing women's health per se, but because I find Luna bars specifically to be hilarious. From their website:

"As women, we understand the importance of wholesome, natural foods to help energize and support you through your day and life."

Um, what? That's somehow attributed to XX chromosomes? So then, men who eat healthy are somehow blurring the gender lines? Gosh, now that bowl of quinoa I had last night feels so subversive. I guess that means my morning oatmeal is downright kinky! I don't consider myself androgynous, but apparently my meals are. I wonder if David Bowie ever eats tofu.

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In Defense of Amy Winehouse

Neo-soul singer Amy Winehouse just played at the Vic in Chicago last night and the local critics were eager to voice their disappointment. Time Out Chicago's blog pointed out the shame "that Winehouse’s raw talent – so ably displayed on her recent Back To Black album – didn’t translate to a live setting." And Chicagoist pulled no punches: "From a critical standpoint, she was just a train wreck."

Ouch.

Chicagoist's Tankboy mentions that her SXSW performance "produced the buzz she rode into her sold-out Chicago show." Well, I didn't hear any of that buzz, so I came in with lower expectations. I love BtB, I've seen the music videos and read the booze and drug-streaked stories about her on gossip blogs. More importantly, I also checked out some performance videos on YouTube where she basically stood at a mic and sang in a dark, small space to subdued crowds. So as I walked into the early twentieth-century vaudeville theater, I wondered, "what will she actually do on a full stage?"

First, her 9-piece band, The Dap Kings, filed onto stage. Then Amy struts on to rapturous applause and good Lord she is tiny. Seriously, she's like a foot shorter than everyone else. (I don't just mean on stage. She's basically a foot shorter than anyone, ever) Her huge, upswept black hair and thick Cleopatra eye shadow probably weigh more than she does. She was wearing a belly-baring (and, thusly, tattoo-bearing) t-shirt and the lowest slung jeans I have ever seen. My first thought was, "is she going to sing out of her vagina?" I mean, I know she's talented...

Anyway. I, for one, was riveted by her. She carried a basket full of candy and popped in two huge pieces of bubblegum, and then sang flawlessly anyway. Between songs, after admitting in her thick British accent that she's terrible with onstage banter, she starts throwing candy into the crowd. Chicagoist referred to this as "padding" her set. Since when is talking to the crowd and having fun "padding"? Her remarks, when understandable, were hilarious. She danced in her own little funny way and made sure the stagehands kept her plastic cup full of gin. I like her.

There were nuances that maybe not every audience member could see depending on their angle. Chicagoist criticized her " annoying tendency to try and pull off the 'bad girl' act to mask insecurity and inexperience." She seemed genuinely surprised at the crowd's roaring enthusiasm, eliciting a smirk or widened eyes from her and looking back at her band as if to say, "can you believe this?" I swear we were witnessing this very young - and yes, maybe insecure - woman realizing the power she wields. She seemed to flit from unsure to torchy diva to brassy badass back to shy again within minutes. She is only 23 after all. (And then, to be honest, sometimes she seemed to be coasting on her big, bluesy voice alone.) It was raw, unpolished, uneven and totally refreshing to watch.

Did the show have problems? Sure. The set was short, but if you were smart enough to snag the tickets when they were $20 you might not be as pissed about that. The Dap Kings were underutilized. And, for some reason, they did rush the songs, but it seems inaccurate to criticize Amy for rushing her delivery - the songs were simply played faster so she accomodated appropriately.

Did she nervously fuss with her hair? Not that much, but even if she did, c'mon! Where do you think she keeps her extra booze? And yes she hiked up her jeans a lot, but no one criticizes rappers for touching their crotches for no reason a bazillion times per show. When Amy does it, it's a sign of her lack of presence.

On the contrary, it's exactly all these little tics and flaws that made her so interesting. She's not a one-note, run-up-and-down-the-stage performer, nor should she try to be. She's not a rock star. BtB is polished, but that doesn't mean we have to expect her performances to be. Many of her songs are about her fucking up, she referred to herself as "fuck up" on stage, and she's even documented her refusal to clean up her fucked-up-ness on her hit "Rehab." We all knew exactly what we were getting when going to her show. You can call her a "train wreck," but why stop there? She was a boozy, messy, funny, flirty, great-sounding train wreck. And it was bewitching.

Also check out: Soul Sisters: Amy Winehouse and Joss Stone.
And: Out with the Old, In with the Slightly Less Old.