Analyzing The Beatles’ song “Blackbird” with 4th graders…
Us (after listening to the whole song): “The lyrics repeat ‘blackbird fly’ over and over. What do you think this song might be about?”
Kid: “Freedom!”
Us (excited that for once, a kid is inching towards a non-literal interpretation…) “Ohhh, interesting! Explain!”
Kid: “BLACKbird. Like black people. Black people weren’t always free. So it’s saying black people should be free.”
My 8 years of teaching have provided me with a mountain of bullshit so high and steep, I’m considering building a chair lift and charging people to black-diamond ski down it.
In a unit about text interpretation (our favorite unit, because it’s never not a shit show), we analyzed the song “Let it Be…”
Us: “Let’s look at this line– ‘And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me.’ What might that mean?”
Kid (raising hand excitedly): “The power is out!”
I’ve been accused of being moody, but I really don’t think it’s too much to ask that everyone stay out of my damn way when I’m PMSing, when it’s Sunday night, when it’s all day Monday, or when it’s winter. The second half of autumn and any high-allergy spring is a risky time as well. Best to stay out of my damn way then, too.
I am absolutely delightful on June 29th.
Co-teacher (helping a kid write his historical fiction story): “If the colonial man in your story is chopping down a tree and the tree is falling, what might he yell out?”
Kid: (blank stare)
Coteacher: “Starts with a T…”
Kid: “Oh! TINDER!!!!!!”
Therapist: “You’ve been saying for a while now that you might want a career change. It seems you haven’t felt very fulfilled at your current job.”
Me: “Right.”
Therapist: “And you said you were going to take some time, explore some options, talk to a few people, do some research, and come up with a plan.”
Me: “Right.”
Therapist: “So, you did that?”
Me: “Yes I did!”
Therapist: “And you have a plan?”
Me: “Yes, in fact I do!
Therapist: “I mean besides ‘get pregnant and quit.'”
Me: “Oh. Then no.”
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
As I enter my tutoring session, I recieve this text…
Ok, yeah. I tried REAL HARD not to let my explanation of math get in the way of their epically loud hammering and drilling.
What. Goes. ON?!?!
The kids are writing historical fiction stories as part of our Colonial America unit.
Kid: “I named my character John McFly!”
Me: “Hmmm. Do you think John McFly is a good name for a character who lived in Colonial America? Does that make sense for that time period?”
Kid: “Well…not COLONIAL America, but in 1984.”
(Long silence)
Kid: “So…right after.”
Hey teachers! Guess what? I just discovered that cheese makes the perfect after-school snack on a particularly rough day, just as long as you make sure it’s brie and that there’s an entire wheel of it and that you’re alone and that you eat it with your fist and that you salt it with your own tears.
Us: “There is NO talking during this test. Starting right now– absolutely NO TALKING.”
Kid: “Ok! Got it!”
Emily's Posts 