Monthly Archives: October 2009

Writing Styles and Humor

When in class one of my favorite weapons in my arsenal against inattentiveness is humor, so I promised my students that with each “-ism” I show them in class that I would provide a joke with each. Today I presented to them artistic and literary examples of Impressionism, Surrealism, and Gothic Literature (not an -ism, I know, but it still counts). Here is the humor I used based on the old, corny English jokes I could recall:

Impressionism: (a one-liner) He is just like an Impressionist painting; he looks better the farther away you get.

Surrealism: (this makes a lot more sense if you know Surrealism) How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a light bulb? Answer: Fish!

Gothic Literature: (prepare a groan) Why do Gothic writers have a hard time getting real jobs? Answer: Because they only know how to mope the floors and depress the buttons.

Yes, yes, I know. They aren’t that great, but the kids appreciated even an attempt at humor. Pity laughs are better than no laughs. :)

Great but not the Greatest of the Day

Dallin Palmer had a great night against Kennewick: “Dallin Palmer rumbled for 300 yards and Stephen Garcia ran for a pair of touchdowns and threw for another as Southridge pounded the Lions on the ground.”

300 yards rushing is a rarity in high school football, any level of football really, and Palmer should be proud and probably thought no one in the conference would match it. He would be the talk of the league for the week.

However, Jacob Sealby had an even bigger night, setting a single game and career rushing mark, with 322 yards rushing against Sunnyside: “Sealby ran for 322 yards on 26 carries, setting the school single-game mark, previously established by Nate Gowing (305 yards) in 2005 at Davis. The 6-foot-1, 195-pound Sealby now has 1,312 yards rushing this season, giving him 2,175 for his career in purple and gold, eclipsing the mark of 2,088 set by Tyce Thomas in 2007.”

What an amazing night of football!

I tend to look at the stat lines in games, and I love looking for these types oddities. One player has a career game, which would normally be the highlight of the evening sports report, but another athlete in the same league (or even game sometimes) has a bigger one. Baseball is normally the arena where this happens most often, but it happens elsewhere as well.

Of course, my mind wandered right back to teaching and education in general. I sometimes see the stories in the newspaper or on television where a school is highlighted for its miraculous improvement in state test scores or the increase in the number of students taking AP courses, and I really wish there could be a regular segment of a news program or a section in the newspaper reserved for the greatness around us every day.

I want to hear about the incremental improvements over time in my local schools, to see the pictures and names of the kids who are the first in their families to earn a diploma, to read about the teacher who works with the most difficult populations without any accolades, to know about the teachers who work behind the scenes and put in boatloads of hours working to improve education for the kids, and so on.

The stories about individual greatness are fun, but I want the realities and the unsung heroes of my profession. Maybe I’m just channeling an old post–I don’t know–but I do respect those local greats who live without honors and awards and still do everything they can to help kids and colleagues.

Come to the Dark Side

I actually think teaching students about the positives and negatives of famous figures is a good thing. Apparently, I’m not alone.

What I despised about history was how boring it was when I was student: dates, figures, war, dates, figures, wars, etc. We never talked about the faults of the Founding Fathers like sleeping with slaves, drunkenness, or corruption; or the Socialist years of Hellen Keller; or the change in Malcolm X’s views after visiting Mecca; or how other stories of American legendary figures may have been exaggerated. Those people were stock and static; they weren’t real.

The only image I saw of Columbus was of him carrying a cross and a sword onto the American shore. We skipped the whole slavery thing, and the brutality thing, and the mean sea captain thing, and the extra voyages thing.

I wrote a post a while ago which relates to this. Here’s an excerpt from the original piece:

Instead of presenting what people truly feel and do as teachers (and in this case journalists), we are given a tale, a fabrication of the truth. Maybe truth can be stretched for a purpose as in a film like Big Fish, but I would prefer the truth.

Of course, this led me to think about the classroom as well. Students often tell me that some of the most interesting things they learn about the writers and historical figures in my classes are the imperfections; they tire of myth and want truth.

The students enjoyed hearing about how Henry David Thoreau wrote Walden alone in the woods, but he allowed himself reprieves from the absolute isolation and independence of the famous pond when he would visit his buddy Ralph Waldo Emerson from time to time. The students’ question “how could he do that for so long” is duly answered.

Ken Kesey became an interesting figure when the students learned of his drug use and flight from justice. Abraham Lincoln’s shifting views of slavery interested the students as did Benjamin Franklin’s dalliances with women, and Thomas Jefferson’s relations with his slaves, and the Colossus of Rhodes’ true appearance, and Thomas Edison’s ruthlessness, and Marie Antoinette’s attributed words about peasants eating cake (which she never said), and Napoleon’s true height, and how George Washington could be considered the 15th President of the United States.

They say the same things about the characters in the texts, too. Every year the students find Lucie Manette in A Tale of Two Cities “boring” because she is not three-dimensional; she has no real imperfection. Lucie is perfect in every way and betters everyone around her. How dull! How predictable! But these same students love Sydney Carton’s boorish and drunken figure as he transforms himself from “a disappointed drudge” into a “far, far better” man.

When we reveal truth we may actually increase interest and appreciation.