8 Questions

I have been asked several questions since becoming a teacher that have completely left me speechless. These aren't the kind of questions I don't feel qualified to answer; they're just the kind I never expected to hear.

1. Can I go out to the parking lot? I left my car running this morning.

2. Can I turn my homework in tomorrow? I got hit by a car yesterday afternoon.

3. Can I go to the office? My tooth just broke off.

4. Can I go get my book? I left it on the wrong side of my locker, so I forgot to pick it up.

5. Can you tell us about your first kiss?

6. Do you know who invented the dog whistle?

7. Where does the peace sign come from?

8. Do you know how to fold those paper chain people who all hold hands?

Needless to say, those of you who think that teachers only need to know about teaching their particular subject matter, think again. I've half a mind to write to the dean of my college and demand to know why the English Department didn't teach me who invented the dog whistle. I'm sure he'd take that into consideration and create a class designed specifically around that. In the meantime, Wikipedia is at my frequent disposal.

Sweet River Fool

When I finally moved into my first grown-up apartment, realized that my budget was still up in the air and that would mean I'd have to wait for a while before committing to a monthly cable bill, my years of studying and keeping busy in college meant that I was actually rather confident in my ability to refrain from television. I'd have movies after all, and could borrow whatever I didn't own, and this would finally give me the time I'd been craving to read whatever I wanted. Another one of those things that they never tell you about growing up is that teachers have to read a ton of stuff they wouldn't necessarily choose to read. About 80% of the material I have taught so far this year was brand new to me, so all that time I thought I'd have to read whatever books I wanted was initially taken up with planning and grading for school, and the time that remained left me so drained of energy that I'd rather sit in front of the tv than expand my literary horizons. I have consequently (yes, Senor Allen, people do use "consequently" in everyday conversations) spent the last six months watching movies and all of the tv series on DVD that I could borrow or get on Netflix. But in the past several weeks, I have finally gotten tired of tv and have returned to my once great love. I haven't read as much as I'd like, but I'm working on it, and the internet is helping me do that.

Sometime last Spring, I got an email from one of my favorite English professors at Harding, letting me know that he had just gotten his novel published. At the time, I was a poor college student, so I saved the email for a time when I'd actually be able to afford to buy it. Last week was exactly the time for it. I dug out that old email and ordered Sweet River Fool by Dr. Larry Hunt.

On Friday afternoon, when I was finally able to pick it up from the post office, I was super excited to delve into this new story. Being on Spring Break this week has given me ample opportunity to read whatever I like, so on Monday morning I finally picked up the tale of Snody (pronounced "Snow-dee"). For those of you who don't know Dr. Hunt, he's a really fun guy with a wide array of interests. (Incidentally, as the Tolkien expert on staff, he was my advisor for my Senior Symposium.) After reading only the "blurb" on the back cover, I knew that this was the perfect combination of his deep south Georgia upbringing and his delightful love of medieval literature. Snody, the protagonist, is a homeless drunk, who after a failed suicide attempt, finds an illustrated book about Saint Francis of Assisi in a dumpster and decides that he is going to model his life after Saint Francis. His story is beautifully woven through the lives of the residents of the small Georgia town of Sweet River, and it is inspiring to see the way this unlikely Christ character touches the lives of so many who are suffering and lonely. The writing has a light, yet tender feel and a subtle morality that makes it difficult to find its equal (or even its younger brother) on my bookshelves. I devoured this story in just a couple of days and slept very well on Tuesday night as I imagined being able to lay my head down in God's lap just like Snody did. I'd recommend this book without hesitation, and am hoping that this won't be the last of Dr. Hunt's books I'll be able to add to my collection. If you're interested, I'm certain that he would love for you to buy your own copy here, or I'd be happy to let you borrow mine.

State of the Classroom Address: Room 2 edition

Last night at half past seven o'clock Miss Pruitt of Room 2 delivered this, the State of the Classroom address.

Students, parents, colleagues, friends, I greet you. Tonight, I will inform you all on the successes, failures, and delightfully (usually) random happenings in room 2. We'll laugh; we'll cry; oh, what a time we'll have. I hope that by the end of the address you will all feel that the future of our country is safe (ish) and that at least 50% of ignorance is regularly stamped out.

Three different classes are conducted inside room 2 four days a week, due to Harding Academy's block scheduling on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Sophomores gather to learn and discuss the forms and functions of general English, including language, writing, and reading. So far this year, we've read Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, several poetry selections, and we are currently in the middle of the beauty that is Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities. I fully enjoy my 10th grade students. We have a good time together. Last semester, I failed to thoroughly explore writing and language skills to the degree which I would like, so I plan to remedy that this Spring.

Juniors assemble in room 2 daily to discover the complexities of the history of American Literature. So far, we've read Twain's Huckleberry Finn, Hawthorne's The Scarlett Letter, Miller's The Crucible, a large collection of American short stories, poems, and historical documents, and we are currently tackling argumentative research papers on a wide variety of social issues. My regret from the fall semester was that we spent too much time on the selections I enjoyed the most, so we were forced to cram too much material into too little time. I'm hoping to be able to keep things moving at a pace consistent enough to keep that from happening again, while actually making it through all of the material we still need to cover. It's a daunting task.

Some academically excellent Junior students were chosen to participate in the Advanced Placement Language and Composition course. We read and discussed several works over the summer: The Great Gatsby, The Case for Christ, and Ecclesiastes. Since then, we've tackled Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, as well as a number of essay selections. We used these readings as material to shape our writing. We've explored the forms, functions, and development of essays that analyze literature and those that make strong arguments, and are currently in the process of learning to synthesize the two. We've still got great strides to make before we can walk on the moon of the AP test, but these students are exceptionally bright, and I'm proud of the work they've done as well as consistently amazed at their innate abilities to make intelligent connections.

Besides the satisfaction that comes from watching students learn and grow, there is also a very special part of my job that comes from simply sharing in these kids' lives. I never cease to be amazed at their many quirks and the diversity of their many interests. At one time or another in my classroom, I have participated in conversations about what we should do if there is a school shooting, a student's chipped tooth, the disgusting details of stomach viruses, the possibilities of deodorant that smells like cheeseburgers, the fact that Will loves basketball, the details of my contract, plans to set me up on a blind date with someone who doesn't even live in this state, silverback gorillas, the man who invented the dog whistle, Publius, Captain America, yams, whether a woman's place is in the kitchen, the fact that I have two students in the same class who hate the number 4, and efforts to Save the Manatees from large ships because they're too stupid to get out of the way. There is never a dull day in room 2.

Lastly, I just want to say that even on days when I can't believe it's only number 95 because it feels like number 1095, I still can't imagine myself doing anything else. I've had friends tell me that I was born to do this job, and I am more and more convinced of that fact every day. Even when I'm exhausted from pulling teeth and herding cats (which is what my job is a considerable amount of the time), I'm still thinking about delightful conversations about the movies they think I should see and the smiles on their faces when they find out I'll be there to watch them play that game or perform on that stage. All 87 of them have captured little parts of my heart, and I know that it will simply have to grow 2 or 3 sizes in the next few years to add in all the new faces and lives that I will inevitably love.

Teaching is a very special job, and Harding Academy is a very special place. I find it a privilege and an honor to serve my Lord by leading children to new worlds and fascinating discoveries. I hope and pray that I can bless their lives in a small way because they have infinitely blessed mine.

Happy 100th Day of School, Wildcats! Here's to a fun and productive 78 more!

Announcement of State of the Classroom Address

It's 1:36 pm (6th period), and I'm reporting LIVE from Harding Academy Room 2. Today is the 100th day of the 2010-2011 school year. I've officially been a teacher for 100 days (some may think that I've been teaching for most of my life in some capacity or another, but that's a story for another day). In honor of these past 100 days, I am preparing to deliver my address on the State of the Classroom. Tonight, I'll inform you all on our successes and failures and our plans and goals for the future. Stay Tuned.

Musings from Room 2

It is no secret to those who know me that, although, as a teacher I'm not technically supposed to have favorites, the sophomores in 5th period are pretty special. I don't know what it is that makes that class so different from all the others. Maybe it's the personalities. Maybe it's the time of day, just before lunch. Maybe it's Memphis. Who knows? Nevertheless, there is an abundance of enjoyable moments and memories made daily in Room 2 during 5th period. I often wonder if these kids love me as much as I love them. Probably not. But some days they say things that just make my whole week. I could live on comments like "This class gets me through the day" for a lifetime. I don't know what I'm doing right with these kids, but they feel safe with me, and that is my #1 goal as a teacher.

Today was a day not unlike other glorious Wednesdays when I get to have all my sophomores for an hour and a half. There was random chatting and fun being had by all in the midst of grammar and learning and writing. It was heavenly, as you can imagine. But, for some reason, after several weeks of school, this class began to ask a plethora of questions about me and my life that they had not yet asked.

Are you married?
Do you have a "manfriend"?
Will you write a book? ( I later found out that they want me to write a book about them. Good thing they don't know about this blog.)
Do you have any siblings?
What is your favorite football team?: college and NFL

These are just the ones from today. I've also answered questions that range anywhere from what sports I played in high school to what my favorite movies are. I'm seriously considering creating an autobiography to share with them all. Since the readers of the pickle jar are among my greatest friends, I'm asking you for particular stories, facts, or parts of my life that should not be neglected, should I choose to tell my students about my life. Maybe I'll even dig out the ancient Facebook note on my 16 things for inspiration. The phone lines and comment boxes are now open.

Top half empty

So, tomorrow is THE day. The last four years have been incredible. I've made my share of complaints, but this is truly the greatest place on earth. Not one time in the next 20 years will I grumble about mailing that student loan check. It has all been worth it, and then some.

This is a feeling that can only be understood by those who have shared this life. This place has become my home. It's where my people are. It's where I've grown up and learned who I am. This place and the people here are what have made me into the person that will walk across that stage tomorrow and turn my boring white tassel. I cannot believe I'm actually here.

I'm excited. I've been waiting to be a real-live grown-up for as long as I can remember. But now that it's finally time, I'm nothing short of terrified. I don't have a job. I don't have a place to live. I'm still as single as I was when I got here. THAT was definitely not in my plan. Because the future, even the immediate future, is so cloudy, I have nothing exciting to look forward to and take my mind off of all that I am losing. I have experienced so many "lasts" in the past few weeks that I can't even begin to write about them.

I feel like I've made it to that awkward place at the top of a half-empty page between chapters. I'm sort of just floating around in white space, having not yet found the first line of the next chapter.

I know I've got to start a brand-new life. I don't know how to do that yet. I don't know how to be in this in-between place. I can't even get into what it felt like to leave Pangburn High School for the last time this afternoon. I've complained about student-teaching there a lot, but the truth is that it was a wonderful experience. I learned so much, and grew to love so many people there. I could not help but fall apart a little on the way home when thinking about how much I love those kids and wondering what in the world I'm supposed to do when I'm not getting up and going to school with them every morning. I sat down after dinner tonight and had time to write this blog because there are no lessons to plan or papers to grade or HUFEOs to complete. I have no idea what to do with myself.

I know that this has all been rather random, but my person is rather unsettled right now. I know that tomorrow is going to be wonderful. My family will be here, and we'll all have a lovely time. Sunday will be fine as well because it'll feel like my usual routine. Monday is going to be the problem. On Monday, I'll have to figure out what it means to be a real person and then at least make a plan to do it. I don't want to give all this up. I don't want to have to do all these hard things. I'm trusting God, but so far, he's been speaking very softly.

I hear that the view from the other side is much nicer. I hear that it's all going to turn out ok, even thought I cannot currently see how I'm ever going to feel like things are "right" again when I can't live at Harding. I hear that I'm prepared and that it's normal to be nervous. I hear that no one is ever ready for the biggest things in life. I am looking forward to the day of great peace when I will finally be able to take those things to heart and really believe them. Until then, I'm going to keep praying, keep searching, keep looking forward, and have an amazing day tomorrow when I find myself surrounded by all of the people who love me the best.