Freud Asks a Question

Today Freud said (see 1st post for details) "What's up with Britney?"

In 8th period, I asked a question:
Me:What category does this poem fit into? Metaphysical, Romantic, Victorian, or Modern?
Kevin raised his hand.
Me: Yes Kevin?
Kevin: What's up with Britney?
Me: What?
Kevin: It's on the board. Did something else happen? What did she do now?
Me: How am I supposed to know? I came in this morning and that's what Freud was asking. I guess he's been thinking about it this weekend. You'll have to ask him.
Kevin: Oh. Well, Romantic, because it's about his moment of inspiration in nature.
Me: I wonder what kind of poetry Britney would write...

After Class, Genafer stops by.
Me: Yes?
Genafer: Metaphysical, Ms. Stutelberg.

It took me a while to realize she was answering the Britney question.

Thursday Hell

I am not usually one to complain, but one aspect of my teaching schedule this year bites. On Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, we have a single-period day, periods 1-8 with lunch as 5th hour. On Wednesday and Thursday, classes are blocks (96 minutes), odds on Monday and evens on Thursday. We only have three classes on Wednesday and students are let out of school 1 1/2 hours early while teachers do professional development. On Thursdays, there are four block classes with a lunch in the middle.

My prep period is 7th and I have team planning (English department common planning for collaboration and department meetings) 3rd hour. That means on Mondays I teach one 96 minute class and I'm done for the day.

Then comes Thursday. On Thursdays I teach 4 block classes, 96 minutes each, with a break for lunch in the middle. It is absolutly the most exhausting thing I have ever done. I feel like I have done 6 hours of aerobic exercise at the end of the day. My 8th period class thinks I'm losing my mind. Yesterday they told me that I was acting "a little Britney" and I think we all know what they mean by that. Yes, my students have to sit through four 96 minute block classes on Thursday, but it's not the same. Keeping teenagers' attention for 96 minutes involves acrobatics, including juggling, stand up comedy, inspiration, and something that seems more like a game than learning. Every Thursday. Three different courses. All grade levels. To top it all off, on Thursdays the school day lasts 2 extra minutes, until 2:47, to even up the class periods. TWO EXTRA MINUTES.

I scream. The room goes black. I'm on the floor. It's all over.

By Friday morning, I sort of know my name again. I can write straight on the chalkboard. I'm no longer "a little Britney." I'm Stutelberg again, semi-embarassing member of the faculty volleyball team and the teacher who says, "We don't say 'shut up' in my class....we say 'shut your ugly face.'" And the kids laugh. She's back!

The Bard is Hard!

The other day, my students were having trouble discerning Spenserian and Shakespearean sonnets. First, let me be honest, when I read the above sentence, I almost can't believe it. We've gotten much farther this year than I expected we would. Anyway, a little background...

Both the Spenserian and Shakespearean sonnets are organized in quatrains with a rhyming couplet at the end. The Spenserian sonnet rhymes abab bcbc cdcd ee. The Shakespearean sonnet rhymes abab cdcd efef gg. You can see how the two could be easily confused. One types carries a rhyme through to the next quatrain, thus linking them more closely. But both have that all-important end couplet that resolves, restates, or redefines the central problem of the sonnet.

This is what I came up with on the fly. First I asked, "Who is the O.G. of poetry?" [O.G. = Original Gangsta'] The students replied, "Shakespeare, duh!" "Well," I said, "the O.G. uses the gg! That's how you can remember!"

Were they laughing at me or do they just think I'm that cool? Either way, I bet they'll always remember who uses the gg.

Shakespeare...OG!