Category: Learnin’ ‘Em Kids

I teach. Most of these posts are password-protected.

A Shot of Tequila and a High Five

I remember, after seeing the movie Amélie for the first time, having a conversation with someone, probably my mom, about how we should re-watch it every Sunday night before we had to go back to work on Monday. I know exactly jack shit about cinematography so I’m not sure how Jean-Pierre Jeunet rendered the colors that bright and the soundtrack that poignant and the characters that sublimely flawed and the story that enthralling and delightful. All I know is I walked out of the theater all teary and smiley, repeating “Bredoteau! Bretodeau!” in a distinctly Le Pewian accent to myself, wanting to go out and live life! Do good deeds! Find love!

Last night, I decided to watch The Road.

So the opposite.

I mean: enthralling story, yes. But Jesus. I wanted to crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head. Which I did. But before I did, I checked Facebook one more time and saw the news of Osama’s bin Laden’s death.

Some people were rejoicing (“Bin Laden is DEAD!!! Rot in hell you dirty piece of shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”).  Some were sober (“No death is worth celebrating.”). Some questioned others’ Christianity (“Christians, we have been called to live a life that is pleasing to Jesus Christ. How does harboring so much hate glorify our Lord and Savior?”)

My first reaction was surprise—I never thought we’d get him—followed by relief, that this guy who orchestrated a movement that has killed thousands finally got his. And then I had a little Toby Keith moment, where I was like, “And at the hands of the Amurricans goddammit!” I shook that off but quickly realized this little operation would greatly increase Barack Obama’s chances of getting re-elected in 2012. So I posted something like: “Ten years. Obama ftw! Seriously, men and women of the U.S. Military and Commander-in-Chief Obama, I’m awed.”

Of course, what followed was quotes from MLK Jr.: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

And videos from Ground Zero and DC, where people were straight up celebrating, and it reminded me of the footage from Muslim countries around the world, of crowds rejoicing as the Twin Towers collapsed. And I thought, “What are we doing?! We’re doing the same thing we found reprehensible!”

The horror of The Road, combined with the ambivalent feelings I had about the assassination, made for some pretty extraordinary bruxercising for me. I woke up this morning and felt like someone had punched me in the ear infection. That’s right. Like I had had an ear infection and then someone punched me in it. I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw’s still all tender on the left side.

I was grumpy all day. One of my students was doing everything in her power to be my Buddha, and my uterus started causing me my monthly strife. I ate too much. Carbopalooza. I got home to find Violet’s limp not any better than it was yesterday. The WOD kicked my ass. And not one of you, MY SO-CALLED FRIENDS, had told me that my nostril hair had gotten completely out of control.

Downtrodden.

But then my friend (the one I quoted at the beginning of this post) updated her status to: ok, y’all: i get and agree that the death of any human, yes even osama bin laden, is not to be taken lightly, and that his death marks the beginning of yet another period of uncertainty, but before we get all “spiritual” and “now, now kids…”, i think we as americans, and for fuck’s sake definitely our troops, deserve a shot of tequila and a high five. we can go back to being “the better person” tomorrow…

It wasn’t Amélie, but it sure made me feel better.

 

Now It Seems Your Dancin’ Feet Are Always on My Couch

I’ma need you to do something for me.

Wait, let me back up.

I think I’m done teaching fourth grade.

Nine years ago, when I got into the New York City Teaching Fellows program, I intended to teach high school. But I was told I needed a Bachelor’s in my subject area, and I really didn’t want to prod a bunch of adolescents into fulfilling their foreign language requirement. Ándale, muchacho! What I really wanted to do was teach theatre, and I cursed myself for not following my bliss at UNC. My options were limited. There was huge push for us to go into Special Education or English as a Second Language…No phanx. The next highest on the most-likely-to-find-a-job list was elementary.

Now I definitely wouldn’t trade my nine years in third and fourth grades. I’ve learned so much about teaching and learning disabilities and autism and compassion and patience. Moreover, I’ve met some of the world’s dopest people doing it. But I think I’m done.

And in North Carolina, as far as I can tell, you don’t need an undergraduate degree in your subject area to teach high school. You just have to take a certifying exam called the Praxis II. I took this exam for elementary when I was planning to move down here because it was required for my NC certification. Even though I had received a Master of Science in Elementary Education—with a 4.0 and an A+ on my thesis—and taken New York’s certifying exams. Shit, how ’bout some reciprocity, Tar Heel State?!

Anyway.

High school drama teacher jobs are damn near impossible to come by since there’s maybe one at each school, and I’ve realized that I think I’d enjoy teaching English nearly as much.

So! I’m going to take the content knowledge and pedagogy exams for English Language, Literature and Composition, on July 30.

Here’s where you come in.

Wait, let me back up.

In elementary grades, one of the many things we do is help kids find their Just-Right Reading Level. That is, not too easy so they get bored, and not too hard so they get frustrated. Just Right so they learn and grow. Aw.

Well, I don’t know about you, but when I was in high school, we were tracked. Oh-five level classes were for the smarty-pantses, 04 for the kids who did pretty well, 03 the average ones. (No one talked about 02, or 01—you just heard mumblings now and again about remedial classes. They were held in the dungeon or something.)

My older sister and brother were tracked into 05 classes, as was I, but I’m not entirely sure I had an 05 mind. A whole lot of the stuff we read in 05 English was above my Just Right Reading Level.

I resolved this issue by doing a number of things:

  1. Buying the Cliffs Notes.
  2. Having my brother read and summarize it.
  3. Not reading it.

OK, NOW here’s where you come in.

At least four days a week, I write on this blog, which I admit I love doing, but it takes work. If you come here to read, it’s because I, in some way, keep your interest. Maybe I entertain you; perhaps I just push your buttons. Whatever. I serve a purpose. But WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR ME LATELY?

I have three months to read everything I should have read in high school and everything y’all probably did read in high school. So I expect a report of no more than 500 words in the comments from EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU FUCKERS. You may choose your piece of literature, but your report should include a brief synopsis, important themes, literary devices, and historical context. Extra points will be given for information about literary movements, such as New England Puritanism, Naturalism, or Transcendentalism. Or if you write your report as a rap (Dan M).

Go.

Signed,

Ms. Jackson, if you’re nasty