Culture

Beginning next school year, I officially get to teach a pop culture class. I taught such as a class while I was a student teacher a couple of years ago. Right now, I am unofficially teaching the class under a "General Literature" title. As I'm working my way through things on a trial run, I've come up against a notion that bothers me a bit: how should a Pop Culture class be taught to make sure that it isn't a history class. When I worked with the class before, it was just a smidge away from a history class (and an awesome one at that) that started with a 1950s culture and proceeded through the decades to examine how our culture came to be what it is. But for me and my stylings, I feel the need to firmly establish it as an English class.

My ideas came slowly over the past few weeks and started taking root over the weekend. It will take a load of work on my part, but my plan is as follows:

Our culture is several things. Our is a culture of fear, a culture of youth, a culture of infatuation. Culture can be dissected into several themes, each with a history to back it up. A culture of civil injustice. A culture of music. A culture of rebellion. A culture of media.

I want to establish units around a certain type of culture that has at one point or another made a significant impact on our culture as a whole.

I ask you, oh awesome reader, to add any other cultures you can think of for such a class.

Big Ol' Stack of Work

I never enjoy taking days off work. Catching up afterward is such a hassle, it rarely seems worth it. Taking five days off in a row has a greatly amplified effect. My work stack of papers and things to sort out upon my return to work is daunting, indeed. I spent about half an hour just sorting papers without having the chance to grade any of them. I have two student assistants--something I would never consider having if not for my work load. I don't know any of my students' names.

The difference between this and any other day-off conundrum is that this time it was totally worth it. With my son at home, I want nothing more but to be there. If there were a way to work at home, I would take it up in a second. leaving home is harder than ever before and I have to take the time before I mosey out the door to sit and just watch him sleep. He's such a stud and he's the most worthwhile thing to look at since I met my wife.

First Work Week of the Year

Lincoln Public Schools ranks in the dumbest of districts in the category of planning. When we take our time off around Christmas, we have to return to finish the first semester. This is stupid for several reasons that can be easily foreseen (such as students' forgetting everything before the take the final for any given class). This year, however, poor planning could not have been entirely avoided. As our semester leaks into 2010 (pronounced twenty-ten if you know what's good for you), Lincoln find itself in another run of snow days. Just as it did right before our Winter Break, we have had three snow days that have left us baffled as to how to best end the semester. The days we have, by the way, are not so much connected to the snow, but to the temperature which is reaching its icy fingers down into the negatives (a "feels like" -20). I don't know when that will clear up, but as it stands, we have had to work twice this week back from break. Nutty. I don't know that it would be any better had the semester ended sooner, but at least I would not have to deal with students strolling in on finals day asking, "What are we doing?" Because for that, I don't know what I could give them and consider it fair.

Weekend of Odd

Weather gets crazy in Nebraska. After living in Colorado and Texas, where the weather is pretty predictable, Nebraska has taken this many years to get used to. So when Saturday morning was gorgeous, I should have expected it to not last. Silly me. We wandered to the park, knowing that it was the ideal temperature (in the high 50s--good hoodie weather). Unfortunately, as soon as we got there, clouds rolled in and the wind decided it wanted to put on a show for us. Leaves leaped into our faces and the wind chilled us. Within 20 minutes, we threw the idea out and went back to my place. Sad. I was hoping for a quality fall afternoon, but no luck.

Watched Star Trek again on Saturday night. Tis so good. Which leads me to the next odd thing this weekend--New Moon. I know that it surprised everybody, but how does a vampire romance outsell The Dark Knight on its first day? I'm still in shock.

Sunday was a crazy day in which my mind was bent on putting things in the place. I didn't want to grade or do anything work related, but house projects were on my mind. So I moved a bed around, some shelves, did some laundry (but was so gracious to leave some for my wife to do), and finished off the leave sin my front yard.

The day was interrupted for a church meeting that went well, but was one of those that leaves a funny taste in your mouth.

Thanksgiving's coming. Three days of work. Praise be.

People Who Can't Shut Up

Seven weeks. A student of mine spent seven weeks on one story, and he never completed it. One reason is that he didn't focus for any whole class period. The other is that he would not stop. As a writing teacher, my main focus with my students is on efficiency and effectiveness. Say what you need to say, say it clearly, say it well. Typically, students can't write more than 40 words on any given topic or event, but this fine gent is on the extreme opposite. In any given story, he clicks through his phone to ensure that every text message related to his story is accounted for. Every minute is spoken of, not in any great detail, but there it is, taking up space on the page. For this week, I told the student, "You're starting a new story. It can't go over 500 words." Because most student feign a heart attack at 500 words, I didn't expect today's comment.

"What if I go over 500 words?"

"Then we'll cut it down to 500."

The paper was at 800. "I'm kind of done, but I need to go back and add all the dialogue and stuff."

He keeps trying to add more into the story. It's about his weekend at NabrasKon, and I instructed him to write about one event. Just one. "What about one on Friday, one on Saturday, and one on Sunday?"

No. I don't need it. Even I, in all of my nerdy glory (I thought of grade points as experience points yesterday), don't need to read about your weekend that much. Focus on the small things. Make them interesting. Make them effective. Make them efficient. I conference with him on Friday. I'll be sharpening the knife.

So Far, I Like It

After day one of new class tactics, I think I will really enjoy it. For Comp, time flies by, and I have a scheduled time to yell at people when they don't turn things in. The only downside I'm seeing is that I have to stay organized and know what I'm going to say for each student before our conferences. So far, this hasn't been an issue. Today, I actually worked ahead (wasn't planning on that), and I had some dead parts in our conversation. I had a student ask me if I wanted her to come back after I knew what I wanted to say.

In General English, life was great for me. My co-teacher has volunteered to take the half of the class that never wants to do anything. My half isn't great, but they are a quiet bunch and mostly want to at least have something to do.

My biggest fear right now is taking a day off. For Gen English, it won't be bad, but I don't want to miss a day of conferences ever. So I guess I'll keep plugging along and hope that nothing unexpected shows up.

Trying New Things

This week, I'm starting something new with my classes. This seems to happen every year. I'll start the year, things will go pretty well, but I'll find that something is missing, and I go into trying something different.

In composition, the name of the game is conferences. I've split my classes into five equal groups, one group for each day of the week. Each day I'll meet with the people in that day's respective group. Each student will receive feedback specific to their work ethic and ability. Overall, I hope that this cuts down my grade time because I actually talk to each student every week.

In general English, I'm splitting the class into two. One side is made of students who have decided to move ahead and read on their own--basically, those who want to learn. And the other section are those that couldn't give two farts for education. With a co-teacher, one that hopefully shows up on time, we will trade off with the groups and work with them at different paces. This is not going to be as easy as composition, but will hopefully be more beneficial to those who want to learn something.

I didn't sleep too well last night, so I'm pretty tired. I may fall dead tonight..then rise from the dead to live again tomorrow.

Heading for the Weekend

It's getting closer. I can almost taste it. Though this weekend will be like so many before it and load me up with a lot of things to do, I welcome it anyway. I preach tomorrow and still need to pull my sermon together. On Sunday, I'll have plenty o' grading to do. But aside from that, no real plans. Wife has a baby shower on Sunday, and I should probably rake up the million and a half leaves in our back yard. In my spare time, if I'm not totally exhausted, I'll write.

My writing has been fun, but I didn't get a chance to do any last night at all. Instead I went and saw Where the Wild Thing Are. If you haven't seen it yet, go. For me, there were so many levels to connect with. There were the childhood remembrances, but I've heard a lot of people talk of that. What thrilled me were the creatures. It makes me sad that so few creatures are created anymore. With the rise of CGI, the beauty and art form has suffered, and with the talent of the Jim Henson company, I could cry that they don't have more opportunities to demonstrate their magic.

Anyhow, I must do work stuff again (lame).

50 Hour Week

Parent Teacher conferences are always a real pain. It's not that the parents are so bad. It's not that I don't want to see parents (because I do; way better that talking over the phone). The bane of it all is the extra eight hours I have to put in over the first two days.

I don't know what would make this necessary nuisance any better. Maybe line it up with a break or a long weekend. That would be awesome anyway because so many take a day off anyhow by the end of the week (apparently we have 8 teachers for which they couldn't find subs).

Luckily, my classes remain chill throughout the day and this weekend requires little to nothing of me. I will grade and read, play games, and not have to teach a Sabbath School lesson or preach. Stress should reduce, and life will be peachy.

In other news, I'm getting the itch to write again, but I'm truly distraught about how to go about it. Ideas are coming and going on a week that I can't focus on much of anything. And with my laptop urinated on and my destruction of my mouse for my desktop, I'm not sure how things will come to be (I've even been jotting down things by hand...BY HAND! It's all caveman-ish.).

Things that make you go, "@#$^%&!!"

Last night I went to see Toy Story and Toy Story 2 in 3D--good times. Though I can agree with a friend of mine that they are not my favorite of the Pixar crew (pretty sure Up will go uncontested for quite a while), but these two flicks are still pretty sweet. First of all, I haven't watched either in years, so to revisit them in a theater with the bonus of 3D was a great little outing. The downside to the evening is that it led for a later night than usual, and with that, my day has decided to seize me.

I woke up late. I was expecting that. I rushed to get ready and was about to get out the door when I noticed a funk steaming from my take-home-stuff-from-work bag. I think I had noticed it the night before when I went to the basement to feed the cats, but I couldn't identify a source, so I thought nothing of it. Now, with me fighting to get out the door, the smell was unmistakably familiar--urine.

"You've got to be kidding me."

In my bag, a folder full of graded papers and my school laptop marinated in a puddle of piss. It was a moment when I couldn't even think of a swear to fit my irritation. My wife felt horrible for me, but obviously her sympathy was all she could offer. I wipe the machine free of most of its foul feline coating and popped the battery out figuring that it could be anywhere among the cracks. Eventually I wrapped it in a grocery bag and headed for work.

Couple of hours later, and nothing has improved much. People have asked me if it still works. "I don't know," I tell them. "I'm afraid to check." Eventually, I did. I clicked the battery back in, plugged it into a wall, and it squealed at me. The sound was like a whale song, but higher pitched and furious. I picture a guy listening to the sounds in a room and interpreting. "Mmm...she's angry."

I'm angry.

Parent teacher conferences are tonight and that machine has my student records on it. Luckily, I know my students fairly well by now and we can talk about character and work ethic more than assignments.

The only other joy of today is that the computer guy at school was very cool about the who thing. I'm on a list to get a new computer by the end of the month anyhow, so my old one was going to be gotten rid of anyway. I'll be without a laptop now for a couple of weeks, he says, but after that, I'll have a better machine.

Nine and half hours to go before I head home...

There Was a Whoosh Sound...

...and with it went my summer, leaving me parked in my school building like Dorothy was left in Oz (except I didn't kill a witch upon entry--not a bad idea though). I look forward to the beginning of school because it hasn't changed much from when I came as a student--I see friends that I haven't seen since last Spring. This is awesome, primarily because teachers love to talk to teachers. I feel sorry for my wife from time to time when she hangs out with me and a group of teacher-friends (constant griping, usually).

I also like school because, usually, it equips me with writing material. There are so many nutty people that wander these halls that I don't even have to think anymore when I sit down to write. These first days, though, are insane, leaving me with little time to do much of anything. Starting next week, though, I will likely be posting every day again with silly happenings and psychotic activities of my young scholars.

Going Back

So, with my feeling like my laptop will soon die, I've avoided doing anything on it at all. Unfortunately, I've had enough going on in the last week to write about, I feel totally lame for not stealing my wife's computer to do my blogging. Oh well.

Aside from my sister-in-law and my youngest brother moving to Lincoln (later blog), the next big business item is my job. Today marks the day that I return to work. Nothing more exciting than meetings today (yippee!), but soon my classrooms will resound with stimpy-stompy of colossal, adolescent feet.

In that vein, I had another teacher nightmare last night. The last one I had a week or more ago involved students working beyond my expectations, leaving my plans in ruins. I got angry at them for progressing too quickly and they called the principal to come in the room and yell at me. By the time the principal arrived, the students had all left, and I was trying to put on a shirt (I don't know when I lost my original shirt, but at that point, the shirt was gone).

Last night's was more terrifying. I dreamed that I had a schedule conflict for my first class--teaching composition (which really is on my schedule) and co-teaching with another with another English Ten teacher. They were both schedule during the same time (first class of the day), and I decided to commit to the co-teaching. I was soon sought out and barked at quite harshly by administration for neglecting my composition duties.

It's been a not entirely too strange addition in my most recent line of bizarre dreams. Last week I had to flee a team of assassins that somebody had hired to kill me. The dream had a very Samurai Jack/Dexter's Lab feel. Very strange.

I'm glad it's Monday...Weird.

I generally take side with the "I hate Mondays" crowd. But for some reason, I'm really happy to be at work. There seems to be just enough going on at home or in my personal life that has kept me either on-edge, worried about something, or just stupidly busy. I haven't been able to get the grading done that I need, I've had a lot on my mind about tenure, and I've finally started thinking seriously about looking into Master's work. The frantic busy times of my Sundays have made it very difficult to put energy into any of it.


At work, I'm diagramming sentences (something I've always been nerdy about) and I'm getting more time to relax. I've been able to put myself at ease more thoroughly than I have been able to do this weekend.

Also, I had time to read a good chunk of scripture. Hebrews 12 is just plain groovy, and got me highlighting all sorts of juicy spiritual tidbits.

Oh No! Work!

I've always considered myself a bit lazy. I often wait before plunging into anything and then take the way that seems the easiest. But if being a teacher has taught me anything, it's that I'm a frickin' busy bee compared to the slothful work ethic of my students.

I have my composition kids writing one paragraph corresponding to a subject that begins with each letter of the alphabet. By the end of one week, students will have 26 paragraphs. I've never seen anybody freak out so much. The word seems to have spread to some of my other classes. "How could you do that?" they scream, as if I've led a marching band over a field of infants.


Then, today, I told my English Ten that they will likely have to write out 15-16 paragraphs for their take-home Lord of the Flies Test. They didn't freak out quite as much, but those who had been talking instead of taking notes had to scoop their slackened jaws from the floor.

It's the sadist in me that leads me to writing. It's thrills me to see them dip into what they consider suffering. I don't even try to tell them it's because they'll have bigger things to write in college or that it will do them well in the long run. I just want to become a figure of a mean, old man.

Knee Deep

So even though I had a three day weekend, I didn't get hardly anything done that I needed to. The worst part? It's my fault. My fault and Easter. But mostly still my fault. I've got loads of grading to finish off and my brain feels floaty, so again, I don't want to do anything. I need to finish my chronicles of my D.C. trip, so I'll aim to finish that tomorrow. But I need to start digging back into the papers now.