My Declaration of Principles

In what I consider to be one of Orson Welles' best movies, "Citizen Kane", the main character Charles Foster Kane takes ownership of a newspaper and in it early days he lays out a set of guidelines for himself, his Declaration of Principles. Even though he goes on to violate not only the letter but the nature of these principles, I have always been struck by how articulate these rules were. Similarly, I knew when I wanted to embark on this new project of returning to writing that I would need something similar, a pronouncement of my own to keep me focused, to remind me on those days when it was late and I would really just rather not that getting these thoughts out is really really important.

I make no bones about that fact that I will surely stumble here and there, especially early in this attempt. It has, after all, been a long time since I have done anything like this, put my words on the page. And not just critical remarks, as I do for students throughout the school year. Those words might reflect some of me - my own predilections for well crafted sentences - but they often serve just as rails so student linguistic vehicles don't veer wildly from the cliff of reason and common sense. No, this has to be different. This has to be my edited but essentially unaltered thoughts. To whit: the words on the page are the ones I mean to be there. In this sense, my own medicine is good for me, as I have said such things to my students for years now.

So, my principles? Not many but also not alterable.

1. Details. I intend these thoughts to be as specific as I can make them. Vague and boring language is just that: vague and boring. And while my topics will surely run the gambit I here resolve not to let them be awkward flights of fancy. Having said that because I am engaged in a profession that is sensitive to the needs of the young I also proclaim I will never talk about my students, either by name or description. I will not let these words be free form for some puny rant about the frustrations of my day. This is more important.

2. Ideology. It is my sincerest wish that these words and thoughts, while they convey the things I obviously believe, don't spawn partisan bickering. I worry that such a goal is too lofty and in this world inevitably doomed to failure. By this time next year perhaps I will have fallen into the worst kind of vitrol but I hope not. I have successfully navigated conversations in both my personal and professional life that could have ended in pretty violent language but did not. In this I hope to achieve a little of what Ben Franklin called "moderation".

3. Importance. It does not escape my attention that the world of letters - not to be mistaken with the world of Letters as I teach the mindset and scope of the 18th century world - has flooded the Internet and blogs in a variety of forms exist all over. Reminiscent of Addison and Steele there are posts and responses about everything I could want I find. So when I speak of the importance of this place, this blog or whatever it become, I don't mean to other people. I mean to myself. If for a time it serves only to help me clarify my own thoughts and raise order up out of the tumult that was previously there, then it will have served its purpose. And if by happenstance other find it, read it, engage with it, then I welcome them too.

I titled this thing The Literary Pirate as I thought that accurately represented myself. I suspect the coming days I will need to do some unpacking of that phrase, again more for myself than anyone else.

Perhaps in the end this experiment - that's really what it is - remains an exercise in self-exploration. The words above, expansive and exhausting as they are, boil down to two fairly simple questions:

Who am I?
(and)
Do I matter?