If anyone wonders what gets a teacher through the day when there’s eight days left in the school year, well, hereyago…
I spent two days explaining the essay, and they spent two days talking over me. Today, when their rough draft was due, I had a line four deep at my desk, asking me how to do the essay. I explained it to one kid, and the next kid said, “Yeah–tell me what you told him.” I seriously thought about carving his spleen with a pair of paste scissors. The next kid in line had a rough draft in which he indicated that the minister in “The Minister’s Black Veil” was shrouded from the rest of the world by his abnormally long hair, and I thought seriously about carving out MY spleen with a pair of paste scissors.
And then it happened–the thing that saved my life.
Ten minutes before the bell, the last kid I helped walked up to me with an open book and said, “So, Ms. Lane… I wanted to do my essay on “The Minister’s Black Veal”–Is that okay?”
I looked at the kid blankly and said, “Mooooooooooooooooooo…”
Then I put my head on the desk and laughed until the bell rang.
And that’s why we all got to keep our spleens.
Veil. Veal. Same thing.
Veal? Veal?? VEAL???
Maybe the minister has a black cow? Who are we to judge the kid's creativity?
When administering GED tests I have smaller groups, and they're all quiet, and they STILL can't pick up all the instructions, even though they are written down and read out loud. Swear-ta-dog, I sometimes want to scream, "I've been explaining this to you guys for years and you STILL can't get it right!"
On the other hand, I need to be coached through a new procedure two or three times before I get it down. If the IT people would only give ME written instructions, I'd be golden!