STOP THE PRESSES: Learning can be fun!

Overheard on the staircase at school: "You're not a banana!"

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The other day, my CP2 class was playing a vocab review game, a combo of pictionary and charades (whichever option the students felt most comfortable with). Some of the students were really getting into it, which was surprising from a group that generally has no enthusiasm whatsoever. One student, who has not done any reading or work in ages, actually made vocab flashcards, and was a big participant in the review game. When we were wrapping the game up so we could move on to doing some reading, one girl said, "Can we keep playing? I know that we're learning, but this is fun!"

WOAH. Somebody call CNN and get Wolf Blitzer to break this shit to the public: Learning can be fun.

Seriously though, that was music to my ears. They were buying into what we were doing, even if a part of their brains told them that doing so was weird. This class has been such a struggle for me, that often I just worry about getting through it each day. But maybe we'll be able to do better than that. Maybe if I keep experimenting a little, we'll have more days like this.

Then yesterday, both of my CP1 classes had a great time doing Socratic circles. This was our first of the year. (For those of you who aren't familiar with Socratic circles, in a nutshell they are formal, student-driven discussions. The students are given the very open-ended questions ahead of time and must prepare notes with ideas, quotes from the text, real-world examples, questions, etc. Then they're split into two groups, and each group takes a turn in the inner circle discussing one of the questions, and I stay out of it as much as humanly possible. The outer circle then gives feedback on how the discussion went.) They need a bit of work on integrating their quotes into the discussion and staying a little more focused on the topic, but overall they did a good job. Some very interesting ideas were brought up, and they did really well with actually having a conversation, building on one another's points and sometimes providing counterarguments. They also did well in the outer circle, providing insightful feedback that will hopefully help them recognize how to improve their own discussion skills.

I told the students that we'll probably do at least one of these per unit. They all quickly voiced their approval, saying, "This was awesome!" Sigh. Such bliss. It was nice enough seeing how into the discussions they were--I even let them go over the original amount of time I had set for the discussions to last--so to know that they weren't engaged in what they were doing simply for the sake of getting a good grade was some seriously delicious icing on the cake. One student pointed out in his outer circle feedback that he noticed there was a lot of passion in the discussion he observed. Seeing that kind of passion is what makes me love this job. Yes, they had prepared notes, but these students did not sound like rehearsed robots saying something purely to impress me. I even heard a couple of kids who almost never utter a peep in class speak up multiple times to defend their ideas, and they didn't just say something simple to get their participation done and over with.

I like Socratic circles because they really challenge students to take ownership of what they're doing. After all, they are the ones running the discussions and giving feedback to one another. At the end of each class, I reminded that that the skills they practiced don't need to be reserved for Socratic circles, but rather can and should spill over to our everyday discussions. I told them that I don't want them to always be looking at me when they speak, but rather I want them to look at each other and really, truly listen to what everyone is saying and actually respond, because that's when the magic happens. And, dare I say, that's when it starts to be fun.

Of bibliophiles, Studebaker-lovers, and decorated pumpkins

Happy Hurricane Day, everyone! All the schools are cancelled, and everything in Massachusetts is pretty much coming to a halt--even the MBTA is shutting down at 2pm. So this means I now have time to get some important things done: grade lots of papers and blog. (I could have done some of said grading last night, but chose instead to celebrate the upcoming day off by playing Cards Against Humanity with some teacher friends. I stand by that choice.) And this past weekend was FANTASTIC, so I have plenty of great things to share with you.

On Saturday I went to the Boston Book Festival in Copley Square. It was my first time going, and I am already looking forward to the next one! I didn't get to visit too many of the vendors, but maybe I'll block out some time for that next year. I attended several talks, the first of which was called "The Short Story," with authors Edith Pearlman, Jennifer Haigh, and, one of my favorite authors, Junot Diaz. The discussion was very interesting, and thankfully I'd had the foresight to bring a little notebook in which to record ideas and quotes from the authors throughout the day. A few from this one:

Jennifer Haigh:

• "I write the stories that fascinate me."
• "A sentence in a short story has to travel a very long way."

Junot Diaz:

• Said something about "the multiple realities we all exist in." Don't recall the context, but thought that was a really interesting idea in itself.
• When talking about how some people don't like to read much while they're writing, but he does: "I totally don't give a crap if other people's voices are in my head."
• Talked about how novels can't be perfect, and they reflect our imperfections. Short stories, however, can be perfect, because they are short enough that the writer can hold the whole thing in his/her head and consider each sentence carefully. He says short stories are "strangely inhuman." Also, if you're too controlling, you can't write a novel.
• Mimicking reviewers who criticize him for returning to writing short stories after his previous book was a novel: "I don't understand why he went back to stories after escaping that ghetto."
• Going along with that, he does not like the hierarchy that people project onto different types of writing, how novels are usually more highly regarded than short stories.
• In talking about his character Yunior, he said that, especially in his newest book This Is How You Lose Her, Yunior uses his body to try to avoid dealing with the problems in his life. I'll need to pay more attention to this as I continue reading it.
• Also, when the authors were asked how they locate themselves in time and space in terms of their identities as writers, Diaz, who is a Dominican immigrant, said it's hard to categorize yourself when part of a 10 million person diaspora. I guess that, as a Jewish person, I found this to be a very relatable idea.

After the talk, the authors went outside to the Brookline Booksmith's tent (they are one of my favorite bookstores) to sign books. While the two women sat behind a table, Diaz stood in front of it, the better to interact with the long line of people waiting to meet him. He was so kind and gracious and signed all three of my books, plus took a picture with me. I was utterly starstruck. It was wonderful to see that he didn't look like a guy who was just there to sell a few books, but rather really cared about having that personal connection with the people who cherish his work.

 The authors in the beautiful Trinity Church.

One of my signed books!

After that, I met up with a couple of colleagues as we headed over to see "Great Brits and Books." However, we were disappointed to discover it had already filled up. So instead we headed over to "Serious Satire." I'd never heard of the authors before--Lizz Winstead and Kevin Bleyer, both formerly of "The Daily Show," and Baratunde Thurston of The Onion--but I quickly became a big fan of all three. They were absolutely hysterical, and I now want to buy all of their books! The end of the talk did get a bit too political, perhaps because we're all just so caught up in the circus of the upcoming election, but overall our Plan B turned out to be excellent.

Some gems from this one:

• Kevin Bleyer:
• After sharing this quote from Benjamin Franklin: "I confess that there are several parts of this Constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them," he said, "He sounds like a Republican endorsing Mitt Romney."
• "Is there ever a hero of a joke?"
• Thurston:
• "Presidents are supposed to suck. They're designed to disappoint you."
• Talking about all the problems in our country: "Honey Boo-boo? We did that!"
• On President Bush: "He was good for shitty comedy writers."
• Winstead (my favorite of the group):
• When talking about getting gifts like toy stoves and life-like baby dolls: "Anything my mother was sobbing her life over, I seemed to get as Christmas gifts."
• "The media is now a character in our world." (So true! I though this point was spot-on, and I want to find a way to bring that up with my students.)

I then ventured over the "Graphic Novels," as I've used a few as supplemental materials in my teaching, and my friend Ms. K is a big fan of them. However, this talk was a biiiig disappointment. The first person had no stage presence and was super awkward. Her story/comic that she shared with us was cool, but she didn't discuss her process, her thoughts on this form of storytelling, etc.--she just read the story. And one of the guys was dull and weird all at the same time, and I finally just had to leave. I headed over to "Jewish Jocks," as one of the authors there wrote a book I really like, called How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization. The demographic there was largely older Jewish people, so I felt a bit out of place. But I found out I was sitting next to the wife of Larry Summers, the president of Harvard. We were chatting about how the upcoming storm would give us more time to grade papers, and she asked where I teach, and when I asked her the same question, she responded with Harvard. Then Summers came over, as he was one of the panelists, and when she referred to him as "sweetheart" and wished him luck, I put 2 and 2 together. A woman in front of us asked her what they thought of him being portrayed in a movie ("The Social Network"), and she said they thought it was very funny.

Quotes from the panelists and moderator:

• Moderator: "We're going to be considering a book called Jewish Jocks, and we're off to a good start because no one laughed."
• After Steven Pinker's somewhat rambling talk on Red Auerbach, Franklin Foer jokingly said that they'd told him, "We're going to give you three minutes to link Red Auerbach with genocide. GO."
• "I didn't think Sandy Koufax had his priorities straight."--Summers, on Koufax's decision to not pitch in the World Series on Yom Kippur.

After this fun and thought-provoking day, my colleagues and I grabbed some dinner and planned out an apocalyptic novel, starring us, on a napkin. All in a day's work.


If you're still with me, I'll try to keep the rest of my update quick. Sunday was Pumpkin/Studebaker Day, a tradition in my family. Since I was a kid, we've been going to the Studebaker show at the Larz Anderson Auto Museum in Brookline, as my uncle almost always goes and enters one of his cars. Unfortunately, with the grey weather, he decided not to take the car out this year, and many other people made the same decision. So my dad and I just took a little walk around the park, as we always do (it is gorgeous there in the fall, and I highly recommend that you visit if you ever have a chance!), and then took our usual tour of the museum, which used to be the Anderson family's carriage house. After taking a quick look at the few cars that came, we headed over to Allandale Farm, another important part of our tradition, and picked out a few pumpkins along with some yummy grocery items (we found something called falafel chips--they intrigued me, so I had to buy them. Must try today....). I decorated my pumpkins with glitter and melted crayons, an idea I found on Pinterest.

 The Larz Anderson Auto Museum

 The car with the toilet is always everyone's favorite.

 bicycle

 A beautiful Packard.                                                                                   Now that's a trunk!

Another week in the life of a teacher.

Quotes of note:

• A former student was chatting with me, asking me how things are going, and then she inquired, "How's the synagogue?"
• Played some music during class while the kids were making flashcards, and Hanson's "Mmmbop" came on. A girl asked, "Is this the Jackson 5?" While I'm thrilled she's heard of the Jackson 5, I still felt a little piece of my soul wither away. And I told her this song was popular when I was a kid, and she asked, "When were you a kid?" like I was from the Stone Age or something.

Caught my CP1 classes trying to trick me into thinking they'd done their homework yesterday. Gotta love making the homework question about something that happens in the last two pages of the chapter. When almost every response was irrelevant to the question, I just kept asking each one, "Did you read the WHOLE chapter?" I was not pleased with them, to say the least. Luckily though, they have overall been doing a good job with this book, and today was a much more productive day.

I'm so excited to go to the Boston Book Festival this weekend! I've never been, but it sounds fantastic, and a few of my English teacher peeps are going as well. I'm planning on going to four lectures: "The Short Story," where one of my favorite authors, Junot Diaz, will be speaking (I am ridiculously excited about the prospect of meeting him and getting my books signed), "Great Brits and Books," where I'll get to see Maria Tatar, "Graphic Novels," and "Jewish Jocks," where Franklin Foer, author of How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization. I am so ready to geek out all day long, and I'll be sure to post and update afterwards.

I also wanted to share with you a letter that I read after seeing it shared on Facebook. I read it with my advisory today, and plan on talking about it with my other classes next week. It is an open letter to Ann Coulter, who, during the last presidential debate, referred to President Obama as a "retard." The letter, which you can read here, is a beautifully written piece by a man with Down syndrome who is a Special Olympian. He reminded the ever-classless (and that's me using every ounce of restraint that I posses) Ms. Coulter that such words should not be used as insults, that comparing people to individuals like him, who have to overcome so much and yet still "see life as a wonderful gift....should be considered a badge of honor." As an English teacher, I strive to teach my students about the power of words. Often we talk about that in a positive light, trying to get them to understand that with great communication skills paired with powerful ideas, they can rock the world. But it is important to also remember just how powerful words can be in hurting and degrading others. I talked to my students about this, reminding them that they have no idea how hurtful it can be when people use words like "retarded" and "gay" as insults and turn them into synonyms for "stupid" and "wrong." I asked them to be more conscious of their language, and to speak up when others use this language. I told them that I have asked people, including friends, not to speak that way. Not in a confrontational or angry way, but in a gentle manner that still conveyed that I'm not okay with what they said. Hopefully that message gets through to some of them, because it's important to start a ripple effect in trying to solve these types of issues.

What's Goin' On?

Moment of the week:
I had a writing prompt on the board for my sophomores, which included FDR's quote, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." When I asked one of the classes who said this, a student responded, "Dumbledore?"

And soon after that, the students saw an example of fear itself when a girl informed me that there was a gigantic spider right next to my head. I leapt off my stool, darted behind my desk, and nearly hyperventilated while a kid killed it for me. (At least he didn't eat it, like the kid I blogged about last year.....)



The last couple weeks have had some great moments, and also some struggles and frustrations. I'm tired and stressed right now (so glad I'm going to have a nice, home-cooked meal with my folks tonight), so I'm just going to bullet point to give you some of the highlights:

• My CP1 sophomores are pretty into Lord of the Flies. I feel like I'm doing a much better job of framing our discussions this year. When we started the book, I gave them our essential questions, along with the question that is guiding us for the entire year ("What drives us and makes us who we are?"). I'm really making sure to show how these questions and concepts relate to the real world, and so they generally have lots of ideas that they are eager to share. And most of them, even if they don't always answer the homework questions, are actually reading. I'm also trying to keep in mind that I don't have to talk about every single thing that happens in the book, but rather I just need to keep focused on our central themes and questions in order to avoid an information overload, as well as make our discussions more meaningful.
• My senior classes, on the other hand, have been fairly disappointing. They hate participating, they aren't good about doing their work, and they are just generally unenthusiastic. I'm sure part of it is that this course (all the senior classes are now 1/2 year electives) is new to me, and I'm still not totally comfortable with it, so that's probably coming through a bit. But there also just seems to be this laziness and apathy with a lot of them....I don't know if, because it's called an elective, that they think that it's not "real" English class, if they're uncomfortable having all of the levels mixed together, or if the senioritis is already in full swing, but already I have a lot of kids who are failing. And unlike in the past, they don't have the full year to pull themselves out of the hole. I've got to make phone calls to parents this week, and maybe start telling kids that they are required to stay after with me in the next week in order to come up with a game plan for getting their grades up.
• I have been trying a couple cool things with this elective (called "Criminal Minds in Literature"). As we've been doing Sherlock Holmes, I had them watch an episode of BBC's modern "Sherlock," which they responded quite well to, showed an example of a graphic novel version of one of the stories and had them create their own scenes, and also had them read a cool article on possible medical diagnoses for Holmes (Asperger's and bipolar disorder) in order to appeal to students who are more drawn to the sciences and psychology.
• One of my sophomores stayed after the other day for extra help. I didn't actually help him with an assignment, however. Basically, during the time he was here, he worked on organizing his binder, and the two of us talked about reading strategies he can employ, and talked about a game plan for improving his grades. Sometimes, it seems that even if you're not telling a kid something you haven't told all of them before, just talking something over step by step with them and making it all seem manageable can really help them reframe their mindset.
• And to end on a funny note: One of my former students asked me last week if I'd like to buy a wreath to help support the National Honor Society. Since I'm Jewish, I reminded him that I am not his target customer....

through a kid's eyes

This past Sunday I took my two little cousins, who are 8 and 10 years old, for an adventure in Boston. They’re from California and are in town for part of the summer. I figured that spending all this time away from home would get a little dull for them, and as their big cousin decided it was my duty to help remedy that. I’ve always loved kids; I was always the one playing with toddlers on the floor or talking to the older ones about school and playing games with them. Two years ago, my sister and I took these two cousins to the movies. We figured that would be fun, and a challenge that we could deal with. Since that time they have definitely matured, so I knew I could handle taking them to the city on my own. I absolutely adore spending time in Boston, and thought it would be a lot of fun for me to experience it in a new way.

As it turned out, experiencing Boston through the eyes of kids really was pretty great. I love their sharp eyes and their curiosity about the world. They noticed everything and wanted to talk to me about it, but understood when certain situations called for some discretion and tact. Our adventure began somewhere where there is an abundance of interesting characters: the T (the Red Line, to be specific). We also rode a couple of other trains later on in our travels. The boys were very concerned about people who didn’t follow the rules or etiquette—the woman clipping her fingernails, and the man who leaned against the doors which, as one of them pointed out, specifically said not to do just that. In the station, we walked by a guy with gauges in his ears (the biggest I’ve ever seen), and after we were out of earshot they made faces and commented on it to me. They asked me all about how the T works—what the different lines are, where they go, which one goes the farthest, etc. The older one was quite amused when my prediction that lots of people with suitcases would board at South Station came true, as though I’d just performed a neat little parlor trick. I’ve been riding the T for so long that it usually doesn’t hold too much excitement for me, other than observing some quirky characters and peering at what books people are reading. For them, it held exciting possibilities of destinations unknown, along with a roster of characters equal parts puzzling and fascinating. Later in the day, on the Green Line, the younger one asked me why his seat was a little different. I explained that that’s the spot that people are asked to give up if an elderly or disabled person gets on the train. A couple of stops later, two old and feeble people got on board, and before I could even notice, both boys promptly got out of their seats. Oy, I was so proud at that moment.

Our first stop in town (after the first of many potty breaks, of course), was the Aquarium. Once inside, we first checked out the newish ray and shark touch tank. This was like a dream come true for the boys. After we reviewed the rules for touching the creatures, they quickly plunged their arms into the tank, excited to not be restricted to just looking at everything through glass. The interactive experience with nature was their favorite part of the day. We probably spent a good 10 minutes there, with one of the boys determined not to leave until he finally got to touch one of the sharks. I didn’t mind not touching the animals myself, content to take photos of the kids and watch their joy. As we worked our way through the rest of the exhibits, the younger one commandeered my camera and took pictures of just about everything. He felt compelled to document all of the cool things that we saw. It wouldn’t be good enough to just have me take the pictures—he wanted to preserve the images through his own perspective. The older one enjoyed reading some of the facts about the animals and telling me about them. I of course was so excited to see this love of learning.

The day was filled with lots more great little moments. For example, when we were walking through Boston Common as the boys ate their slush, there was a rehearsal in progress for Shakespeare on the Common. After I explained what it was, the 8-year-old asked if we could watch a little. As an English teacher, I was only too happy to acquiesce. When the director was giving notes to the actors and having them try something again, my little cousin asked me, “Are they doing it wrong?” So I explained that in theater, you often want to try doing scenes in different ways to see what works. I also told him that I do theater. "You do THIS?" he asked incredulously. I laughed and responded that my shows aren't quite this big. After sitting there for probably a little over 5 minutes, I asked the boys if they wanted to go, but the younger one said he wanted to stay a little longer. It was cool to see him experiencing something that is so foreign to him and so outside his usual interests, and actually enjoying it. It’s not as though he could understand what was happening in the scene they were rehearsing, but I think being able to observe the inner workings of the production, plus seeing this stage full of actors in the middle of the park, was just so novel to him.

We then went to the Swan Boats, where the boys noticed that there was an older man working there who was listening to the Red Sox game and updating the score on a little whiteboard. They talked a little baseball with him, and I could see how pleased the man was to chat with these engaging kids. After the boat ride we headed for the Museum of Fine Arts and made a beeline for the mummies. We also wandered around some other galleries of ancient artifacts, which the boys found very interesting, especially the African weapons (but of course). We went through the galleries fairly quickly, children’s attention spans being what they are, but I didn’t mind. I can go to the MFA anytime, so this was their opportunity to see whatever caught their eyes.

It was quite the exhausting day (one of the kids fell asleep on the way home), but very fun. Both kids said thank you at least a dozen times (no joke) throughout the day, which was so so sweet. It was fun to be the cool older cousin for the day, and I managed to resist the urge to act too much like a mom. Yes, I was responsible for them and had to make sure they were safe and stayed in my sight, but mostly I was able to just go with the flow and enjoy hanging out with them. I really liked having the opportunity to have real conversations with them that lasted more than just two minutes, and we talked about all sorts of things: history, science, books, Boston, sports, etc.  And I got to see my city the way a kid sees it—with a sense of wonder, curiosity, and enthusiasm.

Not too late to apologize

First, some humor:

After telling Student 1 to stop petting Student 2’s head, Student 2 said, “You have to pay to pet me—I’m like a petting zoo.”

 Student: “Nice reverse psychology.”
Me: “That wasn’t reverse psychology.”
Student: “It was for me.”

When passing out some papers to my honors class, a few of them started doing the wave. I told them this needed to end now, because otherwise they’d soon enough be tossing around a beach ball. About 15 seconds later, I turn around, and sure enough a student has pulled out a balloon, blown it up, and started hitting it across the room.

Okay, now for the sweet stuff:

Last year, my B period class was horrible. Especially since I was a new teacher, it was my worst nightmare. There were a handful of kids that were not exactly strangers to the administrators' offices, and I had the pleasure of having them all in one room. And it was a CP1 class, and those kids tend to be, overall, the least motivated of all the sophomores. I had a couple kids in there who did pretty much nothing all year. One in particular that I am writing about today was a smart ass, pain in the ass, "I don't care about anything" kind of kid. I tried to motivate him and reach out to him, and he nearly bit off my hand as he snapped at me not to give him a life speech. Needless to say, not one of my favorite people. He also was out of school for the end of the year and the beginning of this year because he got in trouble.

This year, my two office mates each have him in class (since he's taking junior English and retaking sophomore English), and they've told me that this kid is really turning his life around and redeeming himself. I will admit that I've been skeptical. After all, leopards don't usually change their spots. So imagine my surprise when today in the hallway, he asked if he could speak to me in my office. I asked him what's up (and he was surprised I remembered his name), and he said that he wanted to apologize for how disrespectful he was to me last year. I swear, you already could have knocked me over with a feather. He continued to say how it wasn't okay for him to act that way, and that this year he looks around in his classes and sees kids doing the same thing, and it bothers him.

I told the student that I really appreciated his words, and that it takes a big person to apologize like that. I put out my hand to shake his, and as he left he said, "Keep up the good work!" I was so incredibly touched by everything he said and the utter sincerity with which he said it. I very nearly started to cry. It was clear that my colleagues were right about him. He must have really had a wake-up call and done some soul-searching in order to get to this point. Just a year ago, he seemed like a kid on the fast track to nowhere. Today, I saw a man in front of me, someone who is now willing to learn from his mistakes and try to be a better person. I hope he keeps on this good path, because I am so very proud of him.

This isn't the first time that I've been surprised by someone like this. At the end of the last school year, a student wrote me a letter. Things with her had always been rocky--sometimes she was great in class, sometimes very very difficult. In her letter, she said she was sorry for giving me grief, and that she often takes out her anger at the wrong people. She went on to thank me and tell me that I'm a wonderful teacher. That letter is on my bulletin board in my office, and every now and then I glance at it and smile. Then, over the summer, a girl I knew in high school approached me. She had been a jerk to me back in the day, and over the past year she had been nannying for my little neighbor (which worried me). She came up to me and said she wanted to apologize for how mean she was in high school, and that it's really bothered her for a long time. My parents said she had been going through a 12-step program, part of which is making amends with people. I was shocked that she felt I was one of the people she felt the need to make amends with.

I've met a lot of shmucks in my life. And I'm sure that plenty of them will stay that way for life. But these people showed me that sometimes, people can recognize the error of their ways and truly change. Today was one of the best payments a teacher can get, the kind of day we store in our memories to save for a rainy day. Sometimes we have an effect on someone and we don't even realize it, and even think that we've failed in our goal to help that student. Then, out of the blue, they surprise you in the most wonderful way possible.

Humorous odds and ends: Shakespeare edition

Student, during a discussion about Macbeth's speeches in Act V ("My way of life is fall'n into the sere..." and "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...") which mark his downfall: "Oh, so it's like how old people complain."


Compare and contrast:
























I want this Shakespeare T-shirt:

The play's the thing.

Just a quick update today, and I will post again later this week, so be sure to check back!

This year I'm trying to be a bigger part of the school community. Part of that has meant going to a few more events/games than I did last year. Besides making me look good in front of the boss, it also makes the kids quite happy to see me there to support them. This semester, I am also taking on the challenge of directing a play. For the spring show there are going to be two one-acts, and I am directing one of them. I chose a show called 'Dentity Crisis, which I had vaguely remembered seeing back in high school at the Massachusetts High School Drama Festival. It's an (extremely) absurd comedy, and right up my alley. (Go here to read a synopsis.)

When I was in high school, I loved performing in comedies. My favorite was when I played sextuplets in Wonder of the World--each character was crazier than the last, ranging from a bald woman desperate for friends to a marriage counselor who moonlights as a clown and has a shady past (Amy Sedaris originated that role, so those of you familiar with her can imagine just how wacky it was). I got to create different personalities and even use some different voices, and it was great fun. Even though I'm not a big fan of public speaking, doing this was fantastic because it wasn't really "me" onstage, so I could be as crazy as I wanted, because that's what I was supposed to do. With 'Dentity Crisis, I'm very excited to explore that kind of absurdity with the five students I have cast. We had our first read-through yesterday, and spent some time getting to know each other, then read through the show. They were all thoroughly tickled (and confused) by it, often breaking out in laughter while reading. They seem really excited about it, and their energy is exactly what I need right now. I think it's going to be a fun couple of months, and I may actually start looking forward to Mondays (at least a little bit)!

Overheard: "Lord of the Flies" edition

Funny quotes from Lord of the Flies discussions:

"I think Simon is kind of like Switzerland."

Student 1: "Nobody is pure good."
Student 2: "Oprah is."

Me: "Where should we put Piggy on the scale [of pure good to pure evil]?"
Student 1: "Everywhere."
Student 2: "Is that because he's fat?"

funny moments

This week's edition of 'Overheard at School':

During a lesson on utopias:
"Is a cornucopia a utopia with corn?"


Kid #1 has his Spanish homework out. I tell him in Spanish, no Spanish in my class, only English.
Kid #2: "Whoa, you speak Spanish?!"
Me: "Un poquito."
Kid #2: "That wasn't un poquito, that was like mas grande!"
Me: "Your mouth is mas grande!"


Ms. K: "Do you hyphenate T-Pain?"