Four!
Apparently, I play golf.
For the second year in a row, I've had a borderline meaningless English elective thrust upon me, this time in the form of Oral Communications. It won't be nearly as disastrous as my Compensatory Reading campaign was last year, in part because I'm keeping it entertaining and casual, imploring my students to hop along for the almost-informal learning ride rather than compel them to overreact to an overserious burden that is so much b.s. The guidelines are vague, bearing no utility, and so it's become the laid back Dave Jones show. After all, it is my fourth prep and I've given up my free periods for my AP Latin tutoring, so I mayaswell just have some fun rather than set myself up for failure by burning out.
So we began the year by making persuasive speeches on a topic of choice, which killed more time and produced more decent conversation and debate than I had originally hoped. We recently began a unit on self-concept in the textbook, which is written at a 5th grader's level give or take 3 grade levels either way but still manages to hit on some meaningful points. It began with a quotation from Martin Luther King, Jr. as all good Southern textbooks do that runs something like: "We fear others because we do not know them. We don't know them because we do not communicate with them." So we had a little open-ended chat about the Middle East and inevitably with a socially conscious white teacher leading a classroom of 30 black children we fell into the black-white stereotype debate.
Suffice to say that it went well, and I'll spare the majority of the details since we've all had our teacher moments and this one, though profound, is only locally profound, but one of the oddest statements my students made was that all white people play golf. I've heard hte bulk of it in similar past conversations: I talk white, by which they mean I talk smartly; I dress white, by which they mean I dress professionally; and I listen to white music, by which they mean I listen to bands like Tool and Mindless Self-Indulgence. Guilty as charged. Apparently, though, on the weekends I wake up early, pull on a polo shirt and khakis, and play a round of 18 before I do other white things like sip on Starbucks Coffee while studying the dictionary or attending the latest death metal concert.
We all shared a good laugh after they saw that I couldn't hold in my own laughter, a perfectly cheesy if insightful moment. It's just sticking in my head because I have never even given a thought to taking up golf, nor do I know too many people who have, but the stereotype makes so much sense upon some superficial reflection.
Excuse me while I go polish my non-existent set of irons...
For the second year in a row, I've had a borderline meaningless English elective thrust upon me, this time in the form of Oral Communications. It won't be nearly as disastrous as my Compensatory Reading campaign was last year, in part because I'm keeping it entertaining and casual, imploring my students to hop along for the almost-informal learning ride rather than compel them to overreact to an overserious burden that is so much b.s. The guidelines are vague, bearing no utility, and so it's become the laid back Dave Jones show. After all, it is my fourth prep and I've given up my free periods for my AP Latin tutoring, so I mayaswell just have some fun rather than set myself up for failure by burning out.
So we began the year by making persuasive speeches on a topic of choice, which killed more time and produced more decent conversation and debate than I had originally hoped. We recently began a unit on self-concept in the textbook, which is written at a 5th grader's level give or take 3 grade levels either way but still manages to hit on some meaningful points. It began with a quotation from Martin Luther King, Jr. as all good Southern textbooks do that runs something like: "We fear others because we do not know them. We don't know them because we do not communicate with them." So we had a little open-ended chat about the Middle East and inevitably with a socially conscious white teacher leading a classroom of 30 black children we fell into the black-white stereotype debate.
Suffice to say that it went well, and I'll spare the majority of the details since we've all had our teacher moments and this one, though profound, is only locally profound, but one of the oddest statements my students made was that all white people play golf. I've heard hte bulk of it in similar past conversations: I talk white, by which they mean I talk smartly; I dress white, by which they mean I dress professionally; and I listen to white music, by which they mean I listen to bands like Tool and Mindless Self-Indulgence. Guilty as charged. Apparently, though, on the weekends I wake up early, pull on a polo shirt and khakis, and play a round of 18 before I do other white things like sip on Starbucks Coffee while studying the dictionary or attending the latest death metal concert.
We all shared a good laugh after they saw that I couldn't hold in my own laughter, a perfectly cheesy if insightful moment. It's just sticking in my head because I have never even given a thought to taking up golf, nor do I know too many people who have, but the stereotype makes so much sense upon some superficial reflection.
Excuse me while I go polish my non-existent set of irons...
posted by David Jones | 20:08
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home