Banner day of teaching...you know how there are some of those weeks at work where you just want to throw your hands up and wipe the board clean-- just erase it all and call it a wash?
It's been that kind of week.
I don't feel like I've accomplished much, academically, and I've been sick with a sinus infection. There's been a lot of business having to do with contracts and planning for next school year and complications related to both.
I've worn my various talismans (talismen?) of protection-- Celtic warrior shield, emerald ring, Egyptian Evil eye bracelet, Virgin de Guadalupe bracelet, Rosary beads, Costa Rican wood earrings, pirate skull bracelet...whatever, I call on the gifts of anybody's otherworldly powers from some of the drama going on this week. (And it's Holy Week and Passover, go figure. Lots of energy brewing!)
So today was a culmination of sorts. Working backwards, my last class period of the day is normally a little wild, so I had a bit of fun with them when, while they were taking their vocab quiz, I came across some errant bubble wrap in the closet. We popped and popped sheets of this stuff. Big giant football player kids, little tiny future-model girls...all gleefully, laughingly popping bubble sheets. One of the students asked, "Can we have Bubble-quiz every week, Miss G?" since it was kind of a silly end of the day. That made me smile.
My third AP class of the day worked through some multiple choice problems to varying degrees of success. Some of them were kind of frustrated with a diagnostic they took earlier in the week, so it was empowering to see them forging ahead and trying, even though it probably felt like 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. There was discussion that some of them didn't want to take the AP exam (for a variety of reasons) and several kids sought me out by the end of the day to tell me of their resolution to give it a shot. I was proud. It's maturity in action.
Now onto a troubled class. I had some widespread cheating on a dumb assignment last week, so I decided to lay down the law with this AP crew. I was particularly disappointed with a handful of the kids because I've really worked with some of these kids, tutored them, helped them enter writing contests, written them letters for college, etc. I felt betrayed. This is what happens when you invest your heart in other people (even fickle teenage people)...they sometimes let you down.
I was really proud of myself because I didn't lose my cool. I spoke with the ones who hadn't cheated, gave them info about their diagnostic, encouraged them and thanked them for choosing the high ground when it came to the easy temptation of cheating. I hope they understood how genuine I was.
Some days teaching feels academic. It should. I'm teaching them literature and composition. Other days, it feels more spiritual-- and that I'm teaching them life lessons that hopefully they will carry in their hearts and consider when they're making other choices and plans for themselves. School is life sheltered-- we keep them under the umbrella of classes, books, social activities, lunch schedules...and then we have to hope that they are learning the lessons that matter-- caring counts, integrity is real, beauty exists in people if you attempt to find it.
Some of the kids got the different speech. They got the, "you're busted because you cheated. Shame on you." That speech was easy to give. I could look those kids in the eye and say it and realize that they hadn't let me down, because they hadn't put in much effort, energy, or heart all year.
It was the kids that I've looked out for, the ones I've helped to guide, listened to their problems, read their journals and given feedback, hugged their parents...those are the kids that got the "I'm so disappointed I can barely stand to look at you" speech. That speech wore me out. It varied by the kid because I KNOW those kids. They succumbed to a quick temptation-- not realizing how personal it was for me. I've given you opportunities to succeed--and you chose the wrong path. For shame. I got a couple tears and apologies. I appreciated it. It is true-- I can't really look at them the same way.
My second crew of kids were "off the chain" as the phrase goes. There was a stolen cell phone and a haphazard way that the school policy handles such things. It wasn't my finest "classroom management" or teaching. C'est la vie. (and don't leave your stupid phone out, it might get taken, duh!)
So my first class of the day was the one where I was thinking back over my day and a warm-fuzzy feeling spread through me like the sun spreading through the clouds on this perfect Georgia day. The kids had a diagnostic for AP-- they took it seriously and were good sports about it. They debated the merits of taking the exam-- some tears happened because this group of kids is incredibly hard on themselves-- yet they are incredibly talented writers, philosophical thinkers, and considerate peers. They do good work.
They had read and answered some basic questions on some William Butler Yeats poems-- one of them being "Leda and the Swan." What I love about teaching AP to smart kids is that I can actually lecture and spin off discussion with critical theory, feminist theory, and current events as they relate to the poetry-- It's. So. Fun.
My magical warm-fuzzy teaching moment came from an unexpected source. This one student hasn't been particularly checked-in to learning all year; in fact, she's been a source of a lot of grief for me.
As I explained the Greek mythology of Leda being the mother of Helen of Troy...reiterating brilliant stories that have informed years of stories, movies, poems after....and how beautiful Helen came to launch 1000 ships, starting wars that left women husbandless and men sacrificing their children, etc. The kids came to the conclusion that Leda must have known something was up when she was pregnant with those swan eggs...that maybe she knew there would be great power and great sorrow from her one experience with that seductive swan.
I showed them some images of painters and sculptor's impression of the blessed event/rape. They were pretty shocked by some of the images, including a more modern one that questions the concept of the person creating the image-- the photographer, the painter, the journalist-- watching a news story such as a RAPE OF A GIRL BY A FREAKIN' SWAN-- and their guilt and complicity in watching a crime occur. This one image has the man painting on an easel with a ship wrecked in the background and the woman questionably enjoying the hostile-swan takeover.
The one student asked, "Wait, so was the swan really a swan? Or did he look like something else to Leda? The poem makes it sound like she was into the, eh-hem, activity-- her "thighs loosened" and "That alliteration of her girl breast was against his chicken breast"-- did he just appear as what she made up to be her biggest fantasy?"
"I like this poem. It's pretty deep."
I mean...I don't know if it's exactly the discussion Yeats intended when he published this sonnet...but man, it was some good academic discourse in my day.
So I suppose my day wasn't really bad at all. I stood my ground against some kid bullies who've learned some bad lessons. I got some smiles and grins out of kids that don't have too many reasons to do so. Frankenstein was read and discussed, AP practice occurred, and yeah, there were some funny poems about swans and Zeus and stuff.
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