But I can make up examples.
Sort of.
So, I will tell a somewhat amusing story of failure and success all in one, followed by random links to funny snapshots of life in my house to make up for two months of nothing.
Scene: Western Thought class, last day of school before THANKSGIVING BREAK.
Characters: Several students, and, of course, me.
I have just given them a highly important bit of information: "Cogito, ergo sum," commonly translated "I think, therefore I am" is better translated, "I am thinking, therefore I am." I have said several useless things such as "Because in Latin the present tense might be the present progressive, and in English we have a way of showing this, and Descartes must have meant the progressive." and then realized how useless they were.
Finally, I stop mumbling grammatica, and try to explain why this is important:
ME: See, if you say "I think, therefore I am" you could mean something more along the lines of "I have the capability of thinking" or "I am a thinking being" or "I have thoughts sometimes." Descartes doesn't know he exists because he thinks sometimes. In between the thinking, he can't know what's going on. He knows he exists when he is thinking.
I get [probably justifiedly] blank stares.
ME: Okay, so imagine you're using your computer. You know how the computer has a sleep mode? Well, you're watching a film on your computer. You hit sleep, and then the computer is off. Then the computer starts again. It starts exactly where you were in the movie. It is as if there were no break. So, imagine your experience of life is just like the movie on that computer. There could be eons of time between one moment and the next, but you only know about when you're thinking--the movie is playing--so you can't really know where you are or that you're existing in the in between times. You can only be absolutely sure about your existence when you're experiencing it, like the movie playing. And you can't know that there is no in between time.
I get nods and OH!!!! I SEEs and generally more comprehending looks. I feel like a successful teacher for a moment.
STUDENT 1: Okay, so when Descartes talks about the computer turning off...
ME: [OH NO! EXAMPLE FAIL!] Descartes doesn't talk about the computer turning off. He lived in the 17th century.
STUDENT 1: Oh, yeah, of course.
ME: [Maybe I was too harsh, and he was trying to get at something else. That was mean.] So that was just an example to try to explain why it's a better translation to say "I am thinking" not "I think." What were you...
STUDENT 2: WAIT! Descartes didn't say that?
ME: No.
STUDENT 2: SO YOU JUST MADE THAT UP?!?!?!?!
ME: Yes, it was...
STUDENT 2: YOU MADE THAT UP JUST NOW?!?!?!? WHOAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ME: ...
So... does anyone have any questions?
----------------------
Anyway, that was the story of the day. And here now are some links:
School Teaching:
Fun with the Faculty
ADELE
Pagan Studies
Kindergarten Sunday School: OUCH!
I Love My Family:
Snowstorm!
(Il)Logical
Do you remember?
Memory, Part 2
Studying
Riding in the Car
*Phew*
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Latina est...
Amusing anecdote from day one of sixth grade Latin, presented in dramatic form:
--------------
--------------
Me: Let's try to figure out what this means: "Latina est Gaudium et Utilis." “Latina?”
Quizzical Girl: … Um … Latin?
Me: Yes… that wasn’t a trick! “est”?
Studious Girl: “is”
Me: Yes. Now can anyone guess what “gaudium” means?
[Enthusiastic Boy's hand rockets into the air]
Me: Yes?
Enthusiastic Boy [slams hand back down on desk]: Never mind. It’s definitely wrong.
Me: You don’t know that for certain. What did you think it was?
Enthusiastic Boy: GOUT!
Me: Ah… you were right—that’s not what “gaudium” means. But you’re listening to the way it sounds, and that is one thing you should be doing.
[We establish that “gaudium” means “fun” and of course they know that “et” is “and”]
Me: Now “utilis” you might be able to figure out.
[ Another girl’s hand shoots up]
Me: Yes?
Little Girl: Useful!
Me: Exactly! What made you realize that?
Little Girl: I thought it sounded like “useless.”
-------------------
I had to giggle.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
I just know an awful lot about EMOTIONS... at the moment.
Well, I really don't...
In some ways I'm not a terribly emotional person. I can be quite dense, emotionally speaking, when it comes to interpersonal relationships. I hurt people's feelings by mistake, because I'll say things that would never bother me for an instant, and don't even know I've just made them want to cry.
In other ways, I'm an emotional mess. The "other ways" are basically art/music/literature/film/stories of any kind/etc.
So, things that have made me cry include:
UP
Hamlet
Greek pottery (yes, really...)
You've Got Mail
Of Mice and Men
"Porgi Amor"
Till We Have Faces
"The Forest of the Dead"
The list could really go on for as long as I cared to type or you cared to read. Which, in the latter case especially, is probably not very long at all.
I'm not ashamed of it... not really. I am embarrassed when I cry over something that I didn't like, and don't think was really worthy of it... like La Bohème or A Walk to Remember... but otherwise I am pleased that a work was crafted well enough to have elicited my emotion.
The problem is that it takes very little to set me off. For example, I was listening to the most recent Cabin Pressure series finale, and I went through the whole gamut of emotion. I laughed a lot, which is to be expected of someone listening to a comedy show. But about five minutes into it, I started pacing because the plot was unexpectedly tense, and about fifteen minutes in, I had tears in my eyes while the studio audience was laughing. Two days ago I cried at the end of the Harry Potter movie... even though I knew what would happen, and I don't think it was that good of a film. Three days ago I teared up over Wilfred Owen's "Dulce et Decorum Est." And this morning, I just asked my mom if an abridged Macbeth she was looking at had the line "All my pretty chicken's and their dam in one fell swoop!" and I couldn't say anything after I finished the line because I'd started crying!
Mind you, I don't mean I burst into hysterical sobs, but I will get to the point of having to stop talking so that it doesn't show through in my voice... and my nose goes really red... a tear or two slide down my face...
So here is the issue--when we read "Dulce et Decorum Est" aloud in class, will I cry? When we study Macbeth and someone quotes Macduff, will I need tissues?
And if the answer to either of those questions is "YES YOU WILL!" then what?
I am very concerned that my students realize how much I love my subject. But how does crying play into that? I know personally, that some people's tears are very meaningful, while others' aren't. Even as I think about pastors I've heard preach, there are some who when their voices begin to shake, carry me along with them, and there are others who make me slightly irritated, because I think... Really? You're crying now? And the factor that makes the difference isn't sincerity. So what is it?
Hopefully I'll have some real experimental answers to these questions a year from now. And hopefully those answers won't be in any way along the lines of "students are totally creeped out by teachers who become teary over what they are teaching, and I get teary all the time."
Ah well...
In some ways I'm not a terribly emotional person. I can be quite dense, emotionally speaking, when it comes to interpersonal relationships. I hurt people's feelings by mistake, because I'll say things that would never bother me for an instant, and don't even know I've just made them want to cry.
In other ways, I'm an emotional mess. The "other ways" are basically art/music/literature/film/stories of any kind/etc.
So, things that have made me cry include:
UP
Hamlet
Greek pottery (yes, really...)
You've Got Mail
Of Mice and Men
"Porgi Amor"
Till We Have Faces
"The Forest of the Dead"
The list could really go on for as long as I cared to type or you cared to read. Which, in the latter case especially, is probably not very long at all.
I'm not ashamed of it... not really. I am embarrassed when I cry over something that I didn't like, and don't think was really worthy of it... like La Bohème or A Walk to Remember... but otherwise I am pleased that a work was crafted well enough to have elicited my emotion.
The problem is that it takes very little to set me off. For example, I was listening to the most recent Cabin Pressure series finale, and I went through the whole gamut of emotion. I laughed a lot, which is to be expected of someone listening to a comedy show. But about five minutes into it, I started pacing because the plot was unexpectedly tense, and about fifteen minutes in, I had tears in my eyes while the studio audience was laughing. Two days ago I cried at the end of the Harry Potter movie... even though I knew what would happen, and I don't think it was that good of a film. Three days ago I teared up over Wilfred Owen's "Dulce et Decorum Est." And this morning, I just asked my mom if an abridged Macbeth she was looking at had the line "All my pretty chicken's and their dam in one fell swoop!" and I couldn't say anything after I finished the line because I'd started crying!
Mind you, I don't mean I burst into hysterical sobs, but I will get to the point of having to stop talking so that it doesn't show through in my voice... and my nose goes really red... a tear or two slide down my face...
So here is the issue--when we read "Dulce et Decorum Est" aloud in class, will I cry? When we study Macbeth and someone quotes Macduff, will I need tissues?
And if the answer to either of those questions is "YES YOU WILL!" then what?
I am very concerned that my students realize how much I love my subject. But how does crying play into that? I know personally, that some people's tears are very meaningful, while others' aren't. Even as I think about pastors I've heard preach, there are some who when their voices begin to shake, carry me along with them, and there are others who make me slightly irritated, because I think... Really? You're crying now? And the factor that makes the difference isn't sincerity. So what is it?
Hopefully I'll have some real experimental answers to these questions a year from now. And hopefully those answers won't be in any way along the lines of "students are totally creeped out by teachers who become teary over what they are teaching, and I get teary all the time."
Ah well...
Monday, July 25, 2011
I just know an awful lot about HIKING... at the moment...
Why am I posting this? On a School blog?
Well, mostly because I had fun writing it, and I want to share it with THE WORLD!
But also, because it is about some students, though not in a student-y context... so I feel it's justified. Enjoy!
It was a beautiful morning at Belle Cottage in the city formerly known as Eden. I sat at the counter and proofread a friend’s paper while listening to Michael Bublé. Dad came into the kitchen, and began dancing (and singing) with Mom to “Save the Last Dance for Me.” Brother and Brother’s Friend were doing… whatever thirteen year old boys do to entertain themselves, and probably applying copious amounts of AXE deodorants and hair gels.
But a serpent had crept into our cottage—a serpent of discord, known to Acadian rusticators as THE HIKE OF DEATH!
A few pieces of background information before I embark on the tale:
First, THE HIKE: Acadia National Park has many lovely biking trails. It has many lovely hiking trails. But it also has several endangered species, including the Peregrine Falcon. So at times certain trails are closed. I only know of one—The Precipice. The Precipice is, to quote my father,
“The BEST trail ever. It’s really hard, and you climb the whole time. The Beehive is NOTHING! I RAN up the Beehive. None of the other trails are hard. But the Precipice is the BEST!
Next time we come, I’m going to bring my gun and SHOOT THE PEREGRINE FALCONS so that I can climb the Precipice—the BEST TRAIL EVER!”
I’ve heard that speech every year for at least fifteen years. Because every year we come to Acadia, and the trail is closed for the sake of the falcons.
Well, three days ago, we drove by the Precipice and it was OPEN! So the second day of our trip was set aside for Dad, thirteen year old Brother, and thirteen year old Brother’s Friend to climb the BEST TRAIL EVER.
Second, THE CAST:
Dad: You’ve just been introduced.
Mom: By no means a frightened overprotective sort. But definitely a mom.
Brother: A thirteen year old lacrosse player and biker and BOY.
Brother’s Friend: A thirteen year old biker and BOY.
(Me: an easily amused chronicler... for now...)
And now, THE STORY:
Mom decided that the Precipice sounded slightly scary. She and I were not planning to climb, but the child of her old age and his friend were. So she formulated a plan. She would make them see sense.
MOM: Boys, you need to REALLY think about this. This is the Precipice. This is a REALLY hard trail.
[boys do not react]
MOM: Okay, let me look. Here. In this book. [reading from ancient trail guide book] blah blah blah… closed the trail… most popular…. OKAY! “Precipice is also the MOST DIFFICULT”
FRIEND: PERFECT
MOM: “Climbers should expect an experience PHYSICALLY STRENUOUS and MENTALLY STIMULATING”
[BROTHER makes a YES! AWESOME! headbop]
MOM: “Iron ladders and rungs help hikers scale up to twenty feet at a time” You got that, boys TWENTY FEET!
FRIEND: YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MOM [persisting, though I would’ve given up at this point]: Listen to this! “PRECIPITOUS accurately describes the trail” PRECIPITOUS!
BROTHER and FRIEND: AWESOME!
MOM: Here! “The trail cuts across the face of Champlain, climbing in spurts, falling occasionally, and always offering ABSOLUTELY STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS of the area” STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS!
BOYS: HAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!!!!!
MOM: We don’t laugh about this! We THINK about it!
[BOYS continue to giggle as Mom continues]
MOM: “Higher up, irons rungs and ladders assist hikers over the steepest stretches.”
BROTHER: See, Mom, LADDERS!
MOM [ignoring him]: “The upper portions of his hike require serious physical work, not to mention a bit of MENTAL GUMPTION” See? [she has been their teacher, so her glare after this line is presumably based on knowledge] “MENTAL GUMPTION to skirt what basically amounts to in places, a cliff.” Do you understand that, boys, SKIRT a CLIFF. SKIRT [indicates with hands what skirting a cliff is] You will be SKIRTing a CLIFF. Do you understand? SKIRT!
[BOYS continue making faces and giggling]
It turns out, however, that a persistent mom can do anything. Because suddenly the whole tone of the thirteen year old sound effects changed. Perhaps, just perhaps, the words “skirt a cliff” do acquire an eerie quality after a sufficient number of repetitions. But for whatever reason, I was hearing “well... maybe… It’s not really that dangerous… is it… hang on, hang on, no, maybe we shouldn’t… well…”
And Mom jumped on that.
“You should look at pictures. So you know what looking down a cliff is. HON! [to Dad] Show them pictures!”
And as little brother saw the first picture he continued with his less gleeful inarticulate starts of phrase, and brother’s friend clammed up completely.
That was where Dad stepped in.
DAD: Well, no matter what, I’m going up.
[BOYS start making sounds indicative of threatened masculinity.]
DAD: Really, it’s not that hard.
MOM: Ern… Ern… Ernie… you need…
DAD: Seriously, Jen, look. Look at this. There are ladders! It’s easy!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah… there are ladders.
MOM: But you don’t…
DAD: I looked it up. Only one person died in the past ten years, and he was STUPID!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah…
[MOM makes unconvinced noises]
DAD: Seriously, Hon, a FIVE YEAR OLD could do it.
MOM: I want you to ask a Park Ranger. It says “strenuous.”
DAD: OLD LADIES hike these trails. You don’t have to…
BROTHER: Yeah, Mom… Mom! We don’t need to ask…
[MOM glares]
[DAD continues to look at pictures]
DAD: See this? Look at this! It’s got ladders!
BROTHER: YEAH! Mom… Mom! WE’ll be fine.
MOM looks fairly defeated, but directs some more glares toward the general vicinity of DAD and the Pictures
BROTHER continues inarticulately convincing MOM and FRIEND, and most likely himself that he wants to go.
DAD continues looking at pictures and muttering “really, Hon…. It’s easy… just… they’ll be FINE…”
FRIEND continues sitting on the couch and smiling, until…
BROTHER: He used to be scared of heights, but he’s fine now, right?
FRIEND: Yeah… yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.
BROTHER: He rappelled down a cliff. He’s totally over it now.
FRIEND: Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.
It is an indication of just how defeated Mom was, that she just went up and got ready for our ladylike hike around Jordan Pond, destined to end in Tea and Popovers and Delicious Gourmet Sandwiches, and did not jump on this golden opportunity.
EPILOGUE:
MOM and I enjoyed our walk and our delicious luncheon. MOM only worried about them twice: Once to have a mini debate with herself if she should call, and risk startling anyone to his death with a sudden vibration and/or ring tone. And the other time to say that “of course Daddy is climbing behind them. He’s not stupid.”
All survived the hike.
FRIEND apparently nearly fell off the cliff.
DAD took pictures of BROTHER and FRIEND histrionically falling off the cliff.
BROTHER and FRIEND wanted to climb the Precipice, or HIKE OF DEATH again.
It occurred to MOM about half an hour after seeing the pictures that DAD was climbing ahead of them.
FINIS
DVD EXTRA:
Me: I’m going to be conducting classes IN Latin. I’ll ONLY speak Latin, so you boys had better brush up on your Latin.
Brother [whispering to Friend]: How do we say “use the bathroom” in Latin?
Brother’s Friend [whispering back]: dumpo, dumpare, dumpavi, dumpatum
Well, mostly because I had fun writing it, and I want to share it with THE WORLD!
But also, because it is about some students, though not in a student-y context... so I feel it's justified. Enjoy!
THE HIKE OF DEATH
Or
Mothers, Fathers, and the Power of Persuasion
Or
Mothers, Fathers, and the Power of Persuasion
It was a beautiful morning at Belle Cottage in the city formerly known as Eden. I sat at the counter and proofread a friend’s paper while listening to Michael Bublé. Dad came into the kitchen, and began dancing (and singing) with Mom to “Save the Last Dance for Me.” Brother and Brother’s Friend were doing… whatever thirteen year old boys do to entertain themselves, and probably applying copious amounts of AXE deodorants and hair gels.
But a serpent had crept into our cottage—a serpent of discord, known to Acadian rusticators as THE HIKE OF DEATH!
A few pieces of background information before I embark on the tale:
First, THE HIKE: Acadia National Park has many lovely biking trails. It has many lovely hiking trails. But it also has several endangered species, including the Peregrine Falcon. So at times certain trails are closed. I only know of one—The Precipice. The Precipice is, to quote my father,
“The BEST trail ever. It’s really hard, and you climb the whole time. The Beehive is NOTHING! I RAN up the Beehive. None of the other trails are hard. But the Precipice is the BEST!
Next time we come, I’m going to bring my gun and SHOOT THE PEREGRINE FALCONS so that I can climb the Precipice—the BEST TRAIL EVER!”
I’ve heard that speech every year for at least fifteen years. Because every year we come to Acadia, and the trail is closed for the sake of the falcons.
Well, three days ago, we drove by the Precipice and it was OPEN! So the second day of our trip was set aside for Dad, thirteen year old Brother, and thirteen year old Brother’s Friend to climb the BEST TRAIL EVER.
Second, THE CAST:
Dad: You’ve just been introduced.
Mom: By no means a frightened overprotective sort. But definitely a mom.
Brother: A thirteen year old lacrosse player and biker and BOY.
Brother’s Friend: A thirteen year old biker and BOY.
(Me: an easily amused chronicler... for now...)
And now, THE STORY:
Mom decided that the Precipice sounded slightly scary. She and I were not planning to climb, but the child of her old age and his friend were. So she formulated a plan. She would make them see sense.
MOM: Boys, you need to REALLY think about this. This is the Precipice. This is a REALLY hard trail.
[boys do not react]
MOM: Okay, let me look. Here. In this book. [reading from ancient trail guide book] blah blah blah… closed the trail… most popular…. OKAY! “Precipice is also the MOST DIFFICULT”
FRIEND: PERFECT
MOM: “Climbers should expect an experience PHYSICALLY STRENUOUS and MENTALLY STIMULATING”
[BROTHER makes a YES! AWESOME! headbop]
MOM: “Iron ladders and rungs help hikers scale up to twenty feet at a time” You got that, boys TWENTY FEET!
FRIEND: YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MOM [persisting, though I would’ve given up at this point]: Listen to this! “PRECIPITOUS accurately describes the trail” PRECIPITOUS!
BROTHER and FRIEND: AWESOME!
MOM: Here! “The trail cuts across the face of Champlain, climbing in spurts, falling occasionally, and always offering ABSOLUTELY STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS of the area” STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS!
BOYS: HAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!!!!!
MOM: We don’t laugh about this! We THINK about it!
[BOYS continue to giggle as Mom continues]
MOM: “Higher up, irons rungs and ladders assist hikers over the steepest stretches.”
BROTHER: See, Mom, LADDERS!
MOM [ignoring him]: “The upper portions of his hike require serious physical work, not to mention a bit of MENTAL GUMPTION” See? [she has been their teacher, so her glare after this line is presumably based on knowledge] “MENTAL GUMPTION to skirt what basically amounts to in places, a cliff.” Do you understand that, boys, SKIRT a CLIFF. SKIRT [indicates with hands what skirting a cliff is] You will be SKIRTing a CLIFF. Do you understand? SKIRT!
[BOYS continue making faces and giggling]
It turns out, however, that a persistent mom can do anything. Because suddenly the whole tone of the thirteen year old sound effects changed. Perhaps, just perhaps, the words “skirt a cliff” do acquire an eerie quality after a sufficient number of repetitions. But for whatever reason, I was hearing “well... maybe… It’s not really that dangerous… is it… hang on, hang on, no, maybe we shouldn’t… well…”
And Mom jumped on that.
“You should look at pictures. So you know what looking down a cliff is. HON! [to Dad] Show them pictures!”
And as little brother saw the first picture he continued with his less gleeful inarticulate starts of phrase, and brother’s friend clammed up completely.
That was where Dad stepped in.
DAD: Well, no matter what, I’m going up.
[BOYS start making sounds indicative of threatened masculinity.]
DAD: Really, it’s not that hard.
MOM: Ern… Ern… Ernie… you need…
DAD: Seriously, Jen, look. Look at this. There are ladders! It’s easy!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah… there are ladders.
MOM: But you don’t…
DAD: I looked it up. Only one person died in the past ten years, and he was STUPID!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah…
[MOM makes unconvinced noises]
DAD: Seriously, Hon, a FIVE YEAR OLD could do it.
MOM: I want you to ask a Park Ranger. It says “strenuous.”
DAD: OLD LADIES hike these trails. You don’t have to…
BROTHER: Yeah, Mom… Mom! We don’t need to ask…
[MOM glares]
[DAD continues to look at pictures]
DAD: See this? Look at this! It’s got ladders!
BROTHER: YEAH! Mom… Mom! WE’ll be fine.
MOM looks fairly defeated, but directs some more glares toward the general vicinity of DAD and the Pictures
BROTHER continues inarticulately convincing MOM and FRIEND, and most likely himself that he wants to go.
DAD continues looking at pictures and muttering “really, Hon…. It’s easy… just… they’ll be FINE…”
FRIEND continues sitting on the couch and smiling, until…
BROTHER: He used to be scared of heights, but he’s fine now, right?
FRIEND: Yeah… yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.
BROTHER: He rappelled down a cliff. He’s totally over it now.
FRIEND: Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.
It is an indication of just how defeated Mom was, that she just went up and got ready for our ladylike hike around Jordan Pond, destined to end in Tea and Popovers and Delicious Gourmet Sandwiches, and did not jump on this golden opportunity.
EPILOGUE:
MOM and I enjoyed our walk and our delicious luncheon. MOM only worried about them twice: Once to have a mini debate with herself if she should call, and risk startling anyone to his death with a sudden vibration and/or ring tone. And the other time to say that “of course Daddy is climbing behind them. He’s not stupid.”
All survived the hike.
FRIEND apparently nearly fell off the cliff.
DAD took pictures of BROTHER and FRIEND histrionically falling off the cliff.
BROTHER and FRIEND wanted to climb the Precipice, or HIKE OF DEATH again.
It occurred to MOM about half an hour after seeing the pictures that DAD was climbing ahead of them.
FINIS
DVD EXTRA:
Latin is Important
Me: I’m going to be conducting classes IN Latin. I’ll ONLY speak Latin, so you boys had better brush up on your Latin.
Brother [whispering to Friend]: How do we say “use the bathroom” in Latin?
Brother’s Friend [whispering back]: dumpo, dumpare, dumpavi, dumpatum
Monday, July 4, 2011
Stuff
Hello friends!
I have started this blog to chronicle my time as a teacher. I have several specific goals for it.
1. I want to keep writing. I'm going to be a teacher, not a student anymore (philosophical questions about whether a teacher is a student, etc. aside), and I will not be required to write much in the way of analysis. I'll have to think things through, and discuss them, but that's a bit different. I expect my writing here will still be slightly (VERY) rambly, but I hope it will make sense.
2. I've taught two classes so far, and I have had many entertaining anecdotes. It seems a shame to keep them to myself.
3. I have friends in different places around the world, and I'm sure they're all dying to know all the gory details of my career. Who am I to deny them so keen a pleasure?
If you decide to follow this blog, here are the types of things you can expect:
1. Book reviews. When I say "book review" I don't mean it in a particularly standardized way, but I hope to give an introduction to, and some thoughts on, books I'm reading as preparation for class and that I'm teaching in class. (My review of Sophie's World should be up in a day or two.)
2. Teaching anecdotes. I like to share funny stories. Maybe I'll have interesting serious ones, too.
3. Rambles. This is the dangerous bit. The open-ended category that includes rambles on... my philosophy of education, thoughts inspired by a class, or a behavior, or an incident... ideas about teaching... pretty much anything. I do have a different blog that I update VERY sporadically for truly random stuff, and a livejournal for my fannish geekiness. The stuff on this blog will be school-related stuff. But that is a rather large category.
Finally, a brief overview of what I'll be teaching:
1. Western Thought I --This is a class for Juniors. It includes a historical survey of philosophy from the Presocratics to Postmodernism, and modules on the Enlightenment and Modernism.
2. British Literature -- This is a class for Sophomores. It is just a survey of British Lit. The students will have had two years of literature from a more technical standpoint and one year of American lit. In their Junior and Senior years they take Great Books.
3. Rhetoric -- This is a Freshman or Sophomore class. I am not absolutely clear on what the curriculum is at the moment because it's changed since I went to school, but I know the focus will be on public speaking.
4. Latin -- This is for 6th through 8th grade. The students study Latin from 3rd (4th?... I think it's 3rd, though...) grade on, so by the time I get them, they've done amo, amas, amat hundreds of times. I get to start them on Wheelock's Latin.
5. Music -- Hopefully I'll be conducting a mixed high school choir. But this depends on scheduling and interest, etc.
Well, I am determined to keep this blog up and post reasonably regularly. (Say, once a week at the least, though when life gets interesting, there could be many more.) If my list hasn't frightened you off, I hope you'll stick around.
-An Expert on Stuff
I have started this blog to chronicle my time as a teacher. I have several specific goals for it.
1. I want to keep writing. I'm going to be a teacher, not a student anymore (philosophical questions about whether a teacher is a student, etc. aside), and I will not be required to write much in the way of analysis. I'll have to think things through, and discuss them, but that's a bit different. I expect my writing here will still be slightly (VERY) rambly, but I hope it will make sense.
2. I've taught two classes so far, and I have had many entertaining anecdotes. It seems a shame to keep them to myself.
3. I have friends in different places around the world, and I'm sure they're all dying to know all the gory details of my career. Who am I to deny them so keen a pleasure?
If you decide to follow this blog, here are the types of things you can expect:
1. Book reviews. When I say "book review" I don't mean it in a particularly standardized way, but I hope to give an introduction to, and some thoughts on, books I'm reading as preparation for class and that I'm teaching in class. (My review of Sophie's World should be up in a day or two.)
2. Teaching anecdotes. I like to share funny stories. Maybe I'll have interesting serious ones, too.
3. Rambles. This is the dangerous bit. The open-ended category that includes rambles on... my philosophy of education, thoughts inspired by a class, or a behavior, or an incident... ideas about teaching... pretty much anything. I do have a different blog that I update VERY sporadically for truly random stuff, and a livejournal for my fannish geekiness. The stuff on this blog will be school-related stuff. But that is a rather large category.
Finally, a brief overview of what I'll be teaching:
1. Western Thought I --This is a class for Juniors. It includes a historical survey of philosophy from the Presocratics to Postmodernism, and modules on the Enlightenment and Modernism.
2. British Literature -- This is a class for Sophomores. It is just a survey of British Lit. The students will have had two years of literature from a more technical standpoint and one year of American lit. In their Junior and Senior years they take Great Books.
3. Rhetoric -- This is a Freshman or Sophomore class. I am not absolutely clear on what the curriculum is at the moment because it's changed since I went to school, but I know the focus will be on public speaking.
4. Latin -- This is for 6th through 8th grade. The students study Latin from 3rd (4th?... I think it's 3rd, though...) grade on, so by the time I get them, they've done amo, amas, amat hundreds of times. I get to start them on Wheelock's Latin.
5. Music -- Hopefully I'll be conducting a mixed high school choir. But this depends on scheduling and interest, etc.
Well, I am determined to keep this blog up and post reasonably regularly. (Say, once a week at the least, though when life gets interesting, there could be many more.) If my list hasn't frightened you off, I hope you'll stick around.
-An Expert on Stuff
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