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Finn, Hawthorne's The Scarlett Letter, Miller's The Crucible, a large collection of American short stories, poems, and historical documents, and we are currently tackling argumentative research papers on a wide variety of social issues.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!

Refrigerator Poetry 2

Here's the poem I promised to share in the first post about Refrigerator Poetry. I'm not planning on this one being the last. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

OUR
SOULS ARE
BETWEEN
PERFECT
LONELINESS
AND
IN THEIR GRIEF
EXPRESS AN
EMPTY PEACE.

BRIGHT
SHADOWY
WISHES
RATTLE
AGAINST
SHAKEN KNEES.

POISONED
SMOTHERED
CEASELESSLY SEEKING
SPENT

BREATHING DEEP STILLNESS
NATURE
WILL BE
OUR
LIFELINE,

WRAPPING
ITSELF
AROUND US
UNTIL
THE
INTERNAL DANCE
SHALL
CEASE.

Refrigerator Poetry

I'm in the process of learning to be a teacher, and one of my favorite "methods" for teaching writing so far is an activity that I have personally deemed "refrigerator poetry." Now, this may remind some of you of a haiku that goes something like this:

Haikus are easy
But sometimes they don't make sense
Refrigerator

But that is not at all what I mean.
This activity earned its name from its similarity to those refrigerator magnets with words or pieces of words on them that are used to make sentences, or in the case of someone I know, to exhaust one's life supply of creativity. Students are given several sheets of paper with lists of random words on them, scissors, construction paper, and glue. They will do nothing except cut out words for a certain period of time -- perhaps 15 minutes. Then they have to write a poem using only the words they've cut out. The rules can be adjusted a bit to allow for trading between students and cutting words apart to create other words that they may lack. Then the poem is glued down to construction paper.
We did this in my "Teaching English" methods class last week, and it was wonderful. I'm a language lover, but poetry and I are not generally on very good terms. I have a difficult time really understanding and loving poetry. I tend to find my own imagined "meanings" in it and read things that aren't there. I am terrible at writing poetry, generally, because I feel constrained by the structure and pressure of doing it the "right" way. But this activity was a great stress-reliever for me. The day that we did it in class, I really enjoyed it and was able to create completely uninhibited. I'm pretty proud of the product, but I can't share it with you here because we had to put them up on the bulletin board in our classroom. I promise to share it when they let me bring it home.
In the meantime, I can confess that I'm such an English nerd that I used the words I had left from class and wrote another refrigerator poem on Friday afternoon while I was snowed in. And, although I am terrible at receiving feedback on my writing (either good or bad), I'm going to share this with all of you in blog-dom. Be kind.

Quiet
Woods fill
Up with
Smooth
Snow

Twinkling
Free
Under the
Hush

The universe
Wanders
Away

Billows
Sliding
Down the
Willow
Breathing Deep

Sounds trailing
Sandman
Smells
A dream


Morning
Sweeps
In around
A forest bower

Inside
The dry flame
Roaring hot

Curled inside a
Sweet cocoon
The easy laughing
Wrinkles His nose
and
mine

When
Comes
Music

Just for us