NEWSLETTER FROM THE MAINE HUMANITIES COUNCIL

“People come with a rangeof investments and experiences ”a great deal about how the culturallandscape of Bangor seems to bereshaping itself. This has been happening for a long time. Even as recentcensus data suggests the populationof the city is declining, the work of theDowntown Bangor Partnership isshowing real positive effects. Bangornow hosts a successful concert seriesand supports arts events in a varietyof ways — and there’s a burgeoninglocal beer scene, with a growing rosterof excellent local breweries and a livelyannual beer festival.In locating Think & Drink amid allthis, Darren starts by comparing it withGreen Drinks. In Bangor, that groupmeets at a different brewery or pub andarranges targeted project work at placeslike the local homeless shelter. Darrensays, “Green Drinks is a social groupthat also Does Good” (capital lettersseem to be implied) — “but Think &Drink is different. It’s more like a salon.”But what, one might well ask, doesit do?When the stage is set and the eventbegins, Darren aims to create a seriesof ‘lens-turning moments.’The first such moment happens asthe panelists speak in “Citizens and theClimate.” When Steve Train describeswhat he sees from his boat in Casco Bay,everyone — however much they alreadyknow or don’t know about climatechange — has their existing lens turned,refocusing on Steve’s particular experience.A second moment comes when themembers of the audience turn to listento each other and a third when theWINTER16–17group reconvenes as a whole. In thisiterative process the lens sometimesreveals other abiding concerns beyondthe ‘official’ topic — concerns like whatdoes it mean to be ‘a Mainer’? Whatinvestments and experiences do peoplebring with them as they think abouttheir world — and how do those ofsomeone born and raised in Bangordiffer from, cohere with, and contradictthose of someone recently arrived here?These are concerns that seem particularly alive in Bangor.What successful Think & Drinksessions do, then, is provide multipleopportunities for people to test,enliven, and recalibrate their ideasand opinions. Many of these areopportunities for listening: to thepanelists, to the moderator, to theothers at the table. But equally valuableare the handful of moments in whicheach person has the chance to expresstheir own view on a complex issueto this small, receptive group of strangers. In this moment, a person has thechance to hear themselves thinkliterally — to practice saying, or tryingto say, what they mean about somethingthat matters.The final turn comes at the end of thesession. Darren likes to close with anopen question: “So. What can we do?We here, what can we do?” In askingthis, he asks us to go beyond eventhis idea work and consider how whatwe think might shape what we do.This is heady stuff. Then Darrenlaughs. “But it isn’t the masterclassin whatever topic,” he told me. “Itcan’t be. People are also there to havea drink and good time; it needs to belight as well.”How does he keep it light? Thesame way he keeps our conversationlight: with wry humor, often at hisown expense. He hopes it helps thegroup keep some perspective. “Weall need to get over ourselves a little,don’t we, so we can talk the difficultthings through.”The much appreciated Dr. Darren J. Rancomoderating for Think & Drink in Bangor.photos: jodi renshawSo what Think & Drink really doesisn’t all “thinking” after all. Eachsession invites us, with help, to walka familiar tightrope: to think abouthard things in a sociable way. Whichis, at bottom, what a communityneeds to do.3

ON PIONEERS AND FRONTIERS:A NEW BOOKS, NEW READERS EXPERIENCEBY REBECCA DAWSON WEBBSome of the women had never votedbefore, and they plan to now.We meet in a windowless roomthat has the feel of a large utilitycloset, long tables pushed togetherin an awkward fit, under dull lighting.The women arrive carrying multiple,heavy concerns — longing for theirkids, longing for release, which alwaysfeels too far off. They are working jobs,working programs, taking classes, andcoping with stress and quarters thatare too close. They are wary about trust.These women are acutely aware ofrights — the rights they have lost, therights they may not fully regain. Butone right that these women have notlost, though they are incarcerated at theSouthern Maine Re-Entry Center,a minimum-security women’s prison,is the right to vote. Maine and Vermontare the only two states in our countrywith no restriction on voting rightsfor felons.As they drift into the room, thewomen’s moods are palpable, and oftenreflective of the latest issue they arecoping with. Yet many remain remarkably positive. We begin by taking somedeep breaths and checking in, acknowledging the separate realities of eachof our worlds.We have gathered to discuss the14th Amendment, the central themeof “Pioneers and Frontiers,” the mostrecent series of the Maine HumanitiesCouncil’s New Books, New Readersprogram. The program — children’sbooks curated around a theme that4invites adult-level discussion — istargeted for emerging adult readers.Most of these women have little orno trouble reading. Still, because thebooks are short and the topics deep,New Books, New Readers works particularly well in correctional facilities.There have been other series withother women at this same location,ones on hope, community, friendship,and the value of sharing your story.The discussions have been rich andhonest. The women connect the topicsto their lives. “Pioneers and Frontiers”is a less intimate series yet still sorelevant. It offers a history lesson inhope, struggle, and triumph. The bookstell the story of those who have foughtfor equal rights: the right to vote, theright to equal treatment, and the rightto fair access. The subject is particularlypertinent today.Handing out the books the MHCprovides is always a delight. Occasionally one of the women will recognizea title, and exclaim, “Oh, I love thisbook.” Receiving the books is a visual,tactile experience. The women gentlyopen the covers and run their handsand eyes across the pages, takingin the many different styles of printand artwork. Recently, one of thewomen commented on how much shepreferred the feel of certain books toothers. We all started to pet the pagesand noticed the variations — smooth,grainy, thick, thin. And then, of course,we had to smell them. Children’s booksare a reminder of the joy of reading andthe way it is a full sensoryexperience. Almost all of thewomen in the class havechildren or grandchildrenthey will share their bookswith. One grandmother inthe “Pioneers and Frontiers”group, who wanted to knowmore about the historyof Thanksgiving, is sendingthe books to her granddaughter but asking her to waitto read them until they cando so together.Around our joined tables, we readaloud. We look at pictures. We talkabout the Constitution and the BillMHC

of Rights. The women reflecton which of the Bill of Rightsmatters to them most. Theyall value the 4th Amendmentthat protects the right toprivacy and prohibits warrantless search and seizure.One of the women is particularly interested in the 8thAmendment which prohibits“cruel and unusual punishment;” she is writing a paperabout the death penalty.We note how many of thefirst ten amendments setdown rules about whatconstitutes a fair trial. Thewomen observe how muchthey don’t remember or neverknew from their history classes. Butthey are interested in learning now.We focus on the 14th Amendment,WINTER16–17the one that is cited in more legalcases than any other because of its DueProcess and Equal Protection clauses.We learn about its ratification in 1868which granted “all persons bornor naturalized in the United States,”including our newly freed slaves,“equal protection of the laws.” And thenreading Granddaddy’s Gift, we see theway that Jim Crow laws turned AfricanAmericans, newly minted citizens, intosecond-class ones who could not voteunless they were able to pass a literacytest or pay a poll tax and be braveenough to face the threat of violence.Freedom on the Menu and Rosa remindus of those who protested Jim Crowlaws with sit-ins at lunch counters andbus boycotts during the 1960s. Lillian’sRight to Vote celebrates the 1965 VotingRights Act, whose key provision — thatpromised federal oversight to ensurethat any changes to voting laws werenot racially discriminatory — was struckdown by the Supreme Court in 2013.We talk about all the disenfranchisedin this country and the voting restrictions that were in place in 14 statesthis fall for the first time in 50 yearsfor a presidential election.Some of the books address thefraught issue of immigration. Comingto America tells the history of immigration and how it started back with thenomads who traveled to Alaska fromAsia during the Ice Age. In Emma’sPoem, we learn about the source of thewords: “Give me your tired, your poor.Your huddled masses yearning tobreathe free.” And we see an Italiangrandmother in Picnic in Octobercelebrating this invitation and thankingLady Liberty for taking her in. Thesebooks remind us that we all comefrom immigrants, many of whom cameto America looking for a better future.We are also reminded that thejourney to a possible better life is noteasy. My Diary from Here to There offersus the perspective of a young Mexicangirl making the difficult transitionto life in the United States, where herfather, a legal citizen, has come to findwork picking fruit in the fields ofCalifornia. And Separate is Never Equalhighlights the fact that hard-wondreams are achieved through determination and struggle, like the fightfor equal access to a quality education.These are important reminders,especially now.This yearning — for equal rights,for a better future, more opportunitiesor a second chance — is something weall share. Certainly these incarceratedwomen do. We all want our storiesto be heard and our voices to matter.And this is what New Books, NewReaders does: it connects throughstories — the books to the people, theindividuals to each other, the largerthemes to the particulars. Children’sbooks are such a simple deliverymethod, but such a potent openingfor conversation and greater understanding.Rebecca Dawson Webb is a regularfacilitator for MHC programs, includingLet’s Talk About It and New Books,New Readers. She is also a longtimewriting coach, teacher, and editor,who leads memoir writing workshopsand is passionate about helping peopleshare their stories.5

THE TRICKLE-DOWNOF WINTER WEEKEND:Q & A WITH CLAIRE MORIARTYAND JIM BULTEELOF ORONO HIGH SCHOOLBY DIANE MAGRAS, EDITORClaire Moriarty and Jim Bulteel, members of Orono High School’sEnglish Department (with Erika Dixon, Amanda Johnston, Don Joseph,and Chris Luthin), are among a group of educators who have, in variouscombinations, attended Winter Weekend for the past 15 years. For years,I’ve heard about these teachers adapting what they’ve learned at theMaine Humanities Council’s popular big book gala to their classrooms.In celebration of Winter Weekend’s 20th anniversary, I asked Claire and Jimto share their thoughts as educators on the Winter Weekend experience.QFirst off, what are your generalgoals regarding Winter Weekendfor the classrooms and more at OronoHigh School?AClaire: I heard somewhere that“reading and writing should floaton a sea of talk.” That’s the spirit of theMaine Humanities Council WinterWeekends, a spirit we want to fosterin our classrooms; the idea that ourconversations, however informal theymight seem, go somewhere.Jim: We’re a school that places greatemphasis on rich seminar discussions,especially in the Humanities. WinterWeekend gives us the sources, the depthof scholar’s knowledge, and not least,the enthusiastic shot in the arm to wantto bring great literature in front6of young people. Winter Weekendcondenses the expertise of scholarsfor us to mine for ideas not just aboutthe books but about the contexts outof which those books sprang. It remindsus that when a student leaves school,and goes on with life, literature can staywith them and enrich their life’s course.One day, I’d love to see a former student,now in Carhartts or a pressed suit,show up at Winter Weekend and join us.QCould you share some examplesof what you’ve done over the yearswith your Winter Weekend experience?AClaire: Listening to speakersat the 2010 Winter Weekendcertainly helped me frame a semesterlong study of George Eliot’s Middlemarch. Our high school class metseminar-style a couple of times a week;we tackled everything from the novel’spolitical setting to the choreographyof marital spats. Students set up theirown web page, chatted nightly, carriedraging arguments into other classes,and capped the whole thing with a graduation weekend spent binge-watching theBritish TV serial, which they pronouncednot nearly as good as the book. Oh, andt-shirts. They made t-shirts emblazonedwith their logo: the Middlemarchers.Jim: The experience of reading a greatbook, a huge door-stopping volume, israre for my students. “Too long!” theymoan, when I hand them Anna Karenina.“Still too long,” they say, when I askthem what they’ve learned, but, as onestudent said to me today, “Now I seethe ideas. Actually, I like this book.”I think of my classes as the literaryequivalent of the slow food movement.Slow reading — luxuriating in thetext — understanding it as a workof artifice, of meaning made by construction and imagination, is a skillI think each student should possess.Whether, in their future lives, they readagain I won’t know — but I hope thatif they don’t, they will learn to slowlyappreciate portraiture, the symphony,or another of the art forms.QEach year, I notice both of youtaking notes (especially Claire).I wonder what you’re looking for eachyear and how you translate that to theclassroom.AClaire: It’s not so much whatI’m looking for but what I comeupon. Notes give form to what’s goingon in my head. For example, notes haveallowed me to press Tolstoy and Proustinto service in a couple of nonfictionMHC

courses we offer. In the appendix toPevear and Volokhonsky’s translationof War and Peace [WW2009], you’ll findTolstoy’s rejoinder to critics in which hedeclares that one of the greatest novelsof all time is not a novel. In the prefaceto his translation of Ruskin, Proustcalls reading “that fruitful miracle ofcommunication in the midst of solitude.”Yes. That’s just the ticket — just thetone we’re looking for.Jim: Have you seen Claire’s copiesof the novel? Each year, they areso heavily marked and lined andannotated, filled with post-its andstrips of paper covered with ideas,that they seem like the materialembodiment of her neural pathways.read them when I’m about to startteaching the book. The lectures giveme ideas for directing the studentsto certain features of the story, thecharacters, the implied contextof a time long ago that no longeris immediately obvious to us.QWe like to think that WinterWeekend provides a content-richexperience that energizes, engages,and inspires its audience. How doesit do all that for teachers?AYes, notes: call me old-fashioned,but if I don’t take notes I don’t learn.Or I fall asleep, digesting the excellentfood, in the darkened lecture room.I bring the notes back here and I re-Claire: I noticed one of thepresenters on Absalom, Absalom![WW2015], moved from the presentbackward through time. It struck meI could try the same thing with thesyllabus I was developing then, a coursecalled #blacklivesmatter. So in a workshop on Faulkner, I realized I couldadapt that technique and move froma close reading of Kendrick Lamar’slyrics, backward in time throughEach year, members of Winter Weekend’saudience members return their copies of thatyear’s book, which are donated to OronoHigh School. The following WinterWeekend alumni texts are activein Orono’s classes this year: AnnaKarenina, Swann’s Way, and TheInferno. In the wings for use anotheryear (some have also been used in thepast): Middlemarch, One Hundred Yearsof Solitude, The Iliad, The Odyssey, andMoby Dick.Toni Morrison’s Jazz, Frederick Douglass’autobiography, all the way to Othello.The renowned speaker wasn’t thereto offer advice on the design of a highschool English course, and I wasn’tthere to look for it. But there you haveit. A draft syllabus materialized in mymarginal notes as if in time-lapsephotography.Jim: There are fashionable movementsin literary criticism, but what WinterWeekend does is provide what doesn’toften get recognized: intellectualfun — appreciation and thoughtfulness.Where else can you go to put those twowords together?QAAre there books or topics you’vedreamed about for Winter Weekend?Claire: Well, I do have a lifethreatening crush on GustaveFlaubert, and the Lydia Davis translation of Madame Bovary is fabulous Orono High School is a public school in Orono,Maine, with an elective-based approach thathas been its hallmark here since the mid-20thcentury. It has only two required English courses:a year-long Grade 9 English class and a semesterlong sophomore course in Expository Writing.The department has dozens of course offeringsin literature and writing, including AmericanLiterature, War and the Human Experience,Women and Literature, Translation, and Howto Argue. These are open to all students.Each year, a different teacher in the EnglishDepartment offers a Special Topic in Literature/Humanities. These focus on literature in anenriched and detailed way and have studentsdemonstrate their understanding of the topicthrough discussion, presentations, research,creative emulation, and analysis. Middlemarchwas the Special Topic in the 2010/2011 years,as described by Claire in this article.opposite: Jim Bulteel exiting Bowdoin’s KresgeAuditorium during a recent Winter Weekend.photo: dan d’ippolitoWINTER16–177

SELECTEDGRANTS:JAN – OCT 2016All of the teacher participants pose for a Winter Weekend 2016 group shot, with the sixOrono teachers congregating on the far right. photo: dan d’ippolitoJim: The great poets have beenoverlooked recently. Surely EmilyDickinson should be a topic one year,and Elizabeth Bishop another? Andwho could provide more width ofpossibilities for planning the weekendthan William Blake? Art, poetry,psychology, history — eccentricity! AndOvid’s Metamorphoses have resonatedthrough Dante and Shakespeare downto today’s many translations. Austeninvented the free indirect narrativepoint of view in the simply deliciousEmma. Finally, that great novelist,Conrad has three candidate books,I think: Nostromo, Lord Jim, and Heartof Darkness. Oh, Kafka! And The BrothersKaramazov How long have you got?I’m barely getting started QHow would you recommendWinter Weekend to other teachersas a content opportunity for the classroom?AClaire: The book selectionsthemselves — and the extra ordinary presenters — are the bestargument for Winter Weekend. Spendingthe better part of a year (or the wholeof February break!) making your waythrough some deliciously long workyou’ve always meant to read (or finish);the sheer pleasure of reading, in thecompany of others, of talking andlistening, of sharing a meal, is whatdefines Winter Weekend: the restorativepower of it all.Winter Weekend is authentic professionaldevelopment. There is nothing medicinalabout it, nothing in the Read-This-It’sGood-for-You vein that can blight someliterary discussions. All of us returnrevitalized, animated; and that experience enriches both teaching andlearning. I so look forward to readingPalace Walk and hearing what you allhave to say about it.Jim: I can’t quite figure out why I don’tsee more of my colleagues from aroundthe state here, especially those whoteach the great books. AP English Litteachers ought to be mobbing youto get in, I think. I’m convinced theywould leave refreshed and revitalizedand eagerly seeking the opportunitiesto bring yet another wonderful storyto their students.With eagerness matched by no otherprofessional opportunity in the year,I await Palace Walk.For more information about this year’sWinter Weekend, refer to the back coverof this publication!The Maine HumanitiesCouncil’s grant programassists non-profitorganizations in Mainedevelop public projects thatincorporate one or morehumanities disciplines.We’re particularly interestedin supporting projects thatare collaborative, stimulatemeaningful communitydialogue, attract diverseaudiences, are participatoryand engaging, and invite

Julia Walkling Program Officer walkling@mainehumanities.org Ian Watkins Development and Communications Assistant ian@mainehumanities.org The Maine Humanities Council, a statewide non-profit organization, uses the humanities — literature, history, philosophy, and cult