postmodernist ideals

Back in college, I took a lit class centered around post-modernist literature. Specifically, the use of post-modernist ideals in 20th century science fiction.

Please note that classes like this are exactly why I was an English major. Sit around for hours and discuss minute detail in obscure books? Sign me up! This has also become an effective parenting tool because no kid can stay awake through a discourse on paradigm shifts in 18th century epic poetry. Just sayin'.

One of the books we read in this class was Donna Haraway's epic collection of essays "Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature." I still have my copy around here somewhere. But the gist of the collection basically is that nature is a construct, not a discovery, and as such is changeable.

So when Goober and I were talking about what he could take to school when he is the "Class Celebrity" -- this is what his teacher calls the child of the week feature present in all elementary school classrooms -- I couldn't help but go back to that book. See, when he is the celebrity, he is supposed to bring something that is important to him and, if appropriate, demonstrate its function. Although Goober's celebrity week is in April, he is my child and therefore is going all Type A anal about it and working out a plan months in advance.

I suggested his bow. Well, technically his new bow. And, yes, normally one wouldn't bring a deadly weapon to second grade show and tell, but this is Wisconsin and he does go to a rural school and his principal was telling me how she and her husband have a "Top Shot" challenge course set up in their backyard. I figured if ever there was a school that would allow a bow at show and tell, this would be it.

Goober said no.

"That was a thing at my old school. I don't do that at my new school," he said.

And it was his thing at his old school. In fact, the birthday cards his classmates made for him all had illustrations of Goober shooting his bow. All Goober talked about was hunting and shooting. Again, this is northern Wisconsin. You're weird if you don't kill things in your spare time.

But now that Goober is at the *special school* he's reinventing himself. He's reinventing nature. Which, according to postmodernist theory, is entirely acceptable. At the *special school* he reenacts scenes from Harry Potter books with his classmates at recess. He gets to be Harry. And I'm excited for him, because he's really having fun and he's using his imagination and he's playacting. Not his usual pursuits, but things I really like seeing him do. He still shoots his bow and he's an amazing shot, but he no longer wants to be known as "the boy who shoots bow." He wants to be the boy who reads Harry Potter and the boy who is good in science and who is really good in gym. He doesn't realize he can still be all these things and the boy who shoots bow, and I think that troubles me a little bit.

But he's young yet. He'll figure it out. If not, I can find my copy of "Simians, Cyborgs and Women." Something tells me my Ubergoober will understand it far better than I ever did.