Skip to main content

Story: Teaching III

If you are a substitute teacher, all you can offer is self-control.

Less is more. Here's how it works. Here's how it works when you are in the middle school.

(1) The project is, invariably, YOU ARE AN IMMIGRANT! WRITE IN YOUR JOURNAL! It doesn't matter which school you're at, it doesn't matter whether the philosophy is progressive or conservative...The project is always: BE AN IMMIGRANT! That little creative-writing twist seems to give everyone a warm feeling. You see: The kids aren't ACTUALLY immigrants! But they are PRETENDING! They are PRETENDING to be immigrants!

(2) The girls are smarter than the boys. If it's a little gay boy, then he may have his sh*t together. Otherwise, there is a wide and stunning gulf between the girls and the boys--every time.

(3) There will be three levels of writing quality. The weakest projects will belong to the boys. The boys can't quite wrap their heads around the creative writing component. So their projects will say: "My immigrant is named _____. He came from ____ in _____. He came by ____." The weariness with which they have done their typing seems to leap off the page. It seems to leap--and to infect you. With their weariness, they seem to be punishing their teacher. They seem to be mirroring back the very weariness that the teacher herself felt as she drafted the project parameters.

The middle-quality assignments: These come from the girls. They get that they are supposed to be a fictional character. "I know!" says one girl, momentarily inspired. "I'm going to do three parts. Part One will be preparation for the journey. Part Two will be ON THE BOAT. And Part Three will be AT ELLIS ISLAND." Exhausted by this burst of industry, your student will stall right there. "What happened on the boat?" you ask. Exasperated, the student simply stares at you. Soon, she will begin murmuring to a classmate about a web site you've never heard of.

The brilliant assignment: There will be one genius student. She will be female. She will have invented a living, breathing character: full cloth, from thin air. This character will speak with rage. Her journal entry will drip with sarcasm. "Oh, great," the writer will type, "I have to IMMIGRATE. Good grief. Steerage class: That sounds fun! I can't believe my so-called PARENTS are doing this." And there it is: That one phrase, "so-called PARENTS." That's ballast. That will buoy you. It will get you through the day.

(4) Discuss teaching in therapy. Your shrink will say that you should never make your frustration evident. If you are going to deploy frustration, it should be stagey, exaggerated frustration. It should be Disney-on-Ice frustration. Meryl Streep, delivering a carefully-calculated version of faux-frustration. Your shrink is a very wise man.

(5) Ask for help. Just put it in an e-mail, to your overlords. Document the experience. Show them you care...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

The Death of Bergoglio

  It's frustrating for me to hear Bergoglio described as "the less awful pope"--because awful is still awful. I think I get fixated on ideas of purity, which can be juvenile, but putting that aside, here are some things that Bergoglio could have done and did not. (I'm quoting from a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of the Church.) He could levy the harshest penalty, excommunication, against a dozen or more of the most egregious abuse enabling church officials. (He's done this to no enablers, or predators for that matter.) He could insist that every diocese and religious order turn over every record they have about suspected and known abusers to law enforcement. Francis could order every prelate on the planet to post on his diocesan website the names of every proven, admitted and credibly accused child molesting cleric. (Imagine how much safer children would be if police, prosecutors, parents and the public knew the identities of these potentially dangerous me...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...