creative revelation

I was sitting in Ms. Avery’s 11th grade AP English class at SLOHS today, flipping through the literary anthology the students use when I came across a familiar poem from my own jr. year of High School.

T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”  captured my attention when I was 16, but I had all but forgotten what it was about over the last 4 years.  As I glanced over the lyrical poem today, I realized I really sympathize with Eliot.  He’s just trying to have a conversation at a party, ya know?  He’s sitting there,  trying to come up with stuff to say to this girl that gives him the heeby-jeebies.  The poem struck a chord in my own life and therefore I have chosen a new title for the story I wrote back in December.  Henceforth, it will be called “The Love Song of S. Beth Kelly.”

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin? …….. I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid. ……. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question, To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— If one, settling a pillow by her head, Should say: “That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.”

Oh Eliot.  You said it, Baby.

middle school

I’m in ED 300 this quarter, which means I have to get 45 hours of in-classroom observation done by the end of the quarter.  I’m at SLOHS on Tuesday mornings and I go to Laguna Middle School on Thursdays.  I’m trying to get the most out of my experience, so I started taking notes during Mr. Wittman’s class this morning.  

Now, Mr. Wittman is a straight-laced 30 something eighth grade english teacher at Laguna.  He has green plants in the window of his classroom and has posted inspirational quotes on bright paper around the border of the classroom walls.  Such quotes read, “No man is an island unto himself,” and “Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.”  He rides his road bike to school (which, might I add, is the exact same bike that my dad used to ride before he upgraded last summer) and holds a commanding presence in his classroom, standing before his students in impeccably pressed pleated khaki slacks.  

These are the events that unfolded in Mr. Wittman’s class on  Thursday, January 29, 2009.

I sat in Mr. Wittman’s class, pretty bored since he wasn’t really teaching.  I sat in a back row desk and tried not to yawn as I watched the students interact.  Suddenly, Mr. Wittman stood up, walked to the white board and asked the students to define the word “clause.” A student answered promptly and gave a good example.  Next, Mr. Wittman asked for an example of an independent clause.  Here’s the discussion that followed:

Mr. Wittman:  Who can give me an example of an independent clause please? And make it at least PG rated. (I choose to believe that he meant to say AT MOST PG rated….)

Lauren:  I am hungry.

Will: He said AT LEAST PG rated….I am hungry….FOR BLOOD!!!!

Mr. W:  Good.  Now add another independent clause with a conjunctive adjective.

Will:  I am hungry for blood; THUS, I eat a cow!

Mr. W:  Right.  Can someone else give me another example?

James:  Jimmy vivisected a squirrel…..

Mr. W: ;Consequently, he was expelled from school.

Katie:  What does ‘vivisect’ mean?

James: To dissect when its alive!!!

Tess: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Jimmy vivisected a squirrel; consequently, HE WENT TO HELL.  Mr. Wittman!  He went to HELL.

Mr. W:  (doesn’t bat an eyelash) Separation of Church and State.

Samantha:  Do they get numbed first?

Jack:  Of course not!  It’s not a human!

Mr. W:  …and that’s how you make a compound sentence.

———–

I was dying to burst out in laughter.  Jr. Highers are too funny!  Sometimes, life is just so funny you have to record it.  This was one of those humorous moments.  I sat and transcribed the events so that I wouldn’t forget them, and could later relay the story to my dear sweet Brook (We like to take notes of random teacher commentary that we find hilarious).  I was just coming off the brink of bursting out in giggles in Mr. Wittman’s class when a student named Megan looked up at the board.  About 10 minutes had passed, and the students were back to drafting their biological research papers. Megan takes a look at the white board, gasps, and asks, “What does vivisect mean?” James was only so kind as to give another definition.  Megan then almost yelled, “WOW.  That sentence is inappropriate!  Can I erase it?”  Matt, another student then retorted, “It’s not inappropriate, it’s SCIENTIFIC.”

I have a huge respect for Jr. High teachers.  They’re great people.  I tried to stifle my giggles for the remainder of the class, but it was real hard.  I kept looking at the Webster’s Dictionaries placed under each desk.  They are all numbered (for clerical purposes, I’m sure), but most numbers have been scribbled over with a fat black permanent marker that reads 69.  

Ah, Jr. High.