The Rejection of “Lord of the Flies”

Parents always ask me why I teach Lord of the Flies. They hated the book in middle or high school, they still have nightmares about it. Specifically, Christian parents ask me NOT to teach it. Injustice has hit close to home, and so I would like to explain why I teach Lord of the Flies to your children. I am not supposed to teach right and wrong in class, because that would mean I would have to speak of Jesus. But you and I don’t want to live in a world of hate and violence and moral obscurity, so I sneak Him in, even still.
When I teach Lord of the Flies, kids get mad. They are upset by the violence, they are upset by the bullying, by the symbolism, by the transference from innocence to experience. They acknowledge that man, when left to his own heart and devices, turns to evil. Just turn on the news, look at your twitter feeds, listen to the conversations at school: we are all hurting and we are hurting one another. We (as a culture) are subject to the Lord of the Flies.
And that’s when the seeds of His Gospel sprout. I can’t tell you how many conversations I have had with students post-read who have made the connection between our lost souls and the saving power of Jesus Christ. We alone cannot change this world. We alone cannot change the fact that men’s hearts worship the Lord of the Flies; they’re fooled by him, they’re scared of him, they are devoted to him.
We can’t live on this island without Christ. We cannot change the injustice without Christ. So I keep teaching Lord of the Flies because the truth of God can be revealed however He pleases. In this hour, we so desperately need the truth of God to be revealed.

A Lesson in Leadership

I have a problem child. He is 18 and a handful of trouble. He is about to graduate in May and almost every teacher has had a problem with him at some point in time.

He is trouble. He is sneaky. He is hyperactive. He needs Jesus. Really badly.

So I take it upon myself to be the little bit of Jesus he sees from 12:55 to 3:20 every day. But I did not always have that attitude. I don’t know how many times I’ve wanted him to just go anywhere but my class. I go home and yell the situation to whoever has called me after school and I sit and think about how much better my class and my life would be without him. And then it hit me that no, this kid can’t go anywhere else. He’s in my class for a reason. All of this was put together for a reason.

I started praying for the problem child. A lot. Suddenly, my attitude changed. And soon, his attitude changed. He was calm and complacent and my anxiety about the end of the day ceased to exist. Last week I bought two copies of Dale Carnegie‘s book “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” Ever since I was in ResLife at OBU I’ve wanted to read this book. I’m really big into leadership techniques and for the first time in my career as a teacher I realized that I’m not only teaching them English and critical thinking skills, I’m teaching them how to be leaders. I had dropped the ball on that this year. And for that, I apologized to my student. He’s my aide and was my editor and I had done nothing to teach him how to lead. We can’t expect young people and high school students to be leaders until we equip them. Yes, he will have to respond. But it was my job to equip him for his position.

I gave the student his book on Monday, with an inscription that said how much leadership potential I see in him. He took the book, “Wait, you mean this is mine? Like, legitimately? That just made this that much cooler.” I told him to read chapter one and that I was too and we would talk about it on Friday. “So, this is a book club? We need a super fly name for this. I’m so pumped!”

As hokey as it sounds, he was legitimately excited about reading. So much of his high school career has been him acting out and teachers giving up on him. While these are his final moments at Bethel, I still think he needs someone to pour into him. Every day this last week he has asked me if I’ve read my chapter, “Ms. K, I’ve read two pages. You better be caught up with me by Friday!”

Yesterday, a day before I told him he needed to have the first chapter read, he bounds into my classroom, book tucked close to his chest, “Ms. K! I read my chapter this morning! I want to talk about it. I know we aren’t supposed to talk about it until tomorrow, but I liked it. Actually I hated parts of it, but I liked some of it.”

While my class started their essays, the student and I sat in the back near my desk and chatted about the contents of the first chapter. He didn’t like that the author advertised another one of his books, it seemed braggy, and he didn’t like that the author included an anecdotal story about a father learning that his scolding was actually hurting his child. He said both were too much and unnecessary. We launched into a discussion about evidence and relevance. I explained that Carnegie used the “advertisement” to prove that he’s not just some nobody with no smarts or experience — he knows what he’s talking about. And he used the anecdotal story to prove his point — to prove that he’s not the only on who feels that way.

“But I still don’t think that by keeping criticism from people, that you can lead people that way. I think there are two ways: that way, the nice way, and the way that Machiavelli explains in The Prince.” I kid you not, he brought up The Prince. 

I took a deep breath as his face shifted into that know-it-all look he gets when he thinks he’s trapped me. “Think about this: let’s say you’re a Prince type of leader: you take life by the horns, you show no mercy, you expect things and you expect them now and perfect. Who will be at your side when you die? Anyone? Will they cry in the streets? Will anyone publish a story about you, about how you changed their life and you meant so much to them? Maybe a few of your closest, most power-hungry ‘friends’ will say a few kind words. But the majority of people won’t even care. You lead them, but they’re more than likely happy to see you go away.”

He looked down, “okay that makes sense. Yeah, I see that. But if you lead by example and do it in a more encouraging way, like he used the example of Lincoln and being calm and nice and stuff, more people would care. Yeah, I see it.”

Lightbulb. Hallelujah chorus.

I then divulged how this book is not just something I want him to read so he can learn something, but so I can learn something, too. I explained that I am a leader in this class. I am not a dictator, and I win no real following or attention by yelling and scolding and highlighting the bad. “In fact, how would you have responded if I’d just yelled at you until I’m blue in the face? If I’d just sent you off to some other class and been super mad at you and not try to teach you how to be better?”

He laughed. “I would have left and learned nothing and I wouldn’t have to read this book. And I kind of want to read this…”

Our conversation was interrupted. But I think the first point got across.

In a few weeks, when he’s calmed down some more, I will re-instate him as my editor. He is so smart and so capable, he just needs a push.

I know there are students that fall between the cracks; students I know I scold and look at crossly for not being together enough. But at the end of the day: I’m training young leaders. They may need some tough-love, and I’ve got plenty of that, but what I can give them is what many, many caring people have given me: the opportunity to see potential in myself and the chance to learn how to lead.

True leaders are not born, they are made.



Science Fiction and Civil Rights

I’m embarking on a very interesting journey in my Science Fiction class. This may prove more work for me than my students, but the idea of it is piquing my interest…

We just read “The Crystal Crypt” by Philip K Dick. It’s a really great story about prejudice and a Catch-22 of sorts. I found it on a whim and we just finished it today. The next two days we will be focusing on a project where we will attempt to address issues of Civil Rights via a science fiction short story.

I started to research race and ethnicity and civil rights connections in science fiction and while I got some google hits, my academic researcher either isn’t up to snuff or there’s nothing out there. This has happened to me before when cross analyzing David Malouf’s An Imaginary Life with TS Eliot’s “The Wasteland” and its section “V. What the Thunder Said,” as well as Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale.” All of them have to do with the transience of life, inability to affect change, and the general melancholy of the modern man. I poured my heart and soul into that 20 page paper (only had to be 12!). And when I presented it to Dr. Hagans, he looked legitimately surprised that that kind of cross analysis and information had come from my brain, mouth, and fingertips. To be honest, I was a bit surprised myself. But what I learned is that though each author has his own statement, they’re all basically talking about the same things. My hope, and encouragement from Dr. Hagans, was to pursue some more lit theory and add it to my paper. I never had time to, and I hope that when I further my eduction (sometime ages and ages hence) that I can revisit it. I’d like to devote some time now to this new venture, but it seem as though my research is leading me to more research, and so on… What started out as a simple compare-and-contrast with high school students is quickly becoming a full-time project. Not that I’m complaining…

I think the subject is very interesting for a number of reasons. 1) humanity expresses itself through literature, it stands the test of time, 2) humanity instructs itself through literature, 3) science fiction is not a mere “what if” but it is also a “watch out” and a “pay attention” and a “caution!” to all that read it.

In every Doctor Who episode and every Science Fiction journal article and story there is that underlying theme of accepting The Other. I want to know why we use Science Fiction to get that point across. I also want to see if some of the mid 20th century writers were using their works to promote/defame the civil rights movement. A lot of science fiction stories look at the struggle, prejudice, and eventual destruction or resolution amongst warring parties or different races/species. Star Trek is riddled with the idea of accepting The Other. This isn’t anything new, I know. I’m not coming up with anything new, and I know some of my academic friends may read this and scoff. And that’s fine. I’ll write you into my next science fiction story as another world that denies the existence of a different world — or something like that.

It is my belief that all literature is hiding something. And you can blame Marxist-moral-neohistorical reader within… but if you think about literature for very long, you’ll begin to see it to. That’s why I teach: because who were are a human race (our struggles and differences and fall-outs and future outcomes) it’s all in the literature. Whether I agree with it all or not, I see the situations amoral literature as inevitable and the science fiction as a warning to mankind.

Do not tell me that Art is For Art’s Sake. It may well have intended to be just that, but it’s not. It was created with a purpose. And when we understand that: I think we become more fully human.

Civ haunts me. In the best way possible.


Teacher by day, Author by night.

I have attempted prose and poetry alike. My baby, the egg I have been incubating, is a novel. I’m going to periodically post under the “Art” page with updates on my progress. I have quite a few pages down so far, but it’s a book that’s been in the works for nearly 4 years now. Hoping to finish it all this summer. Please leave comments. I need all the feedback I can get. I realize some of my “facts” are wrong but of course: that’ll be edited out before it’s all said and done.