Thursday Thoughts of a Twitterless Thinker 8-27-09

The 9th Grade Literature lesson on Tuesday was about astronomer Galileo Galilei. As I was introducing the subject, I said, “Doesn’t this topic make you want to start singing a song?” I looked expectantly at the students, only to have blank stares returned.

“You know, ‘Galileo, Galileo’…” I offered.

Continued blank stares.

“Galileo, Galileo, Figaro, Magnifico-o-o-o…” I sang.

One student smiled and said “Oh” in recognition. The other seven gave me looks that said, “Clearly, our new literature teacher is a blockhead.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody?” I prompted.

Nothing.

“So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye-i-i…So you think you can love me and leave me to die-i-i…” I sang while doing my best head-banger imitation in unison with the one student who had heard of the song. (It was a bonding moment--49-year-old teacher and 16-year-old Frodo-haired teen both nodding their heads violently to the tune the teacher was singing.)

It was almost as bad as watching the inauguration last year and having eight fifth graders have no idea who Aretha Franklin was.

One of the thoughts that went through my Twitterless head today was the importance of family.

Now I’ve always known family is important, but a couple of recent events have impressed upon me how vital these relationships are.

No matter how bizarre, demented or drug-addicted you think Michael Jackson was, the overwhelming truth is that his little children loved him. All footage of his children I have seen clearly shows the mutual adoration. To them, he was their world. They didn’t love him because he could dance well or because he was a musical iconoclast. They loved him because he was dad.

No matter how much of a drunken womanizer you or I think Teddy Kennedy was, his family, especially his children, nieces and nephews, are not shy about singing his praises. Even in video footage from years ago, his siblings’ children describe him as a warm, loving, parental surrogate who was always there for them, whether for weddings, graduations, baptisms or special accomplishments. His family doesn’t revere him because of his political stances or his place in Massachusetts society. They honored him because he cared for them.

Why spend so much time trying to please the world, our bosses or strangers, when it is these intimate family relationships that matter the most?

My fifth grade son had 3 ½ hours of homework today. The only reason it wasn’t 4 hours was because I told him that after 3 ½ hours of homework and 2 hours away at kyuki-do, that he was not about to do the additional 30 minutes of required reading. Added to 6 ½ hours of school, he spent more time on schoolwork than Computer Geek spent at work. I’m hoping this is not indicative of the rest of the school year.

Happy Birthday on the 28th to You-Know-Who from You-Know-Where who wishes to remain anonymous! Make sure you all wish her a happy day! (It’s not me.)

The principal of our high school has a unique way of punishing irresponsibility. She buys a box full of small neon super balls, with smiley faces on them. If a student comes unprepared (no paper, no book, no pencil, no homework) she writes their name on the “goofball,” and puts it into a large clear flower vase. At the end of the year, whoever has the most goofballs in the vase, has to take her out to lunch at the restaurant of her choice. “And I always pick the most expensive thing on the menu!” she says. On the first day of school Monday, she pointed out last year’s “winner” and said, “How much did it cost you to be a goofball last year?” He slunk down in his seat and said, “$36.” He’s determined not to be the winner again this year.

Here’s a fun way to help your kids with division. When I make a treat, like peanut butter balls for example, I have my son count how many I made. Then I have him divide the number by how many people will be partaking of the treat. If he correctly divides the number, he gets to keep the remainder. If he calculates incorrectly, the remainder goes to the cook—me! He was excited once when I made 29 peanut butter balls and there were five of us eating them. He correctly divided out that each of us got 5, with a remainder of 4, meaning he got 9. Oh happy day!

I was heart-broken last year when I discovered I wouldn’t be teaching the same group of kids this year that I had for 4th and 5th grade. Instead I would be teaching high school literature. (So I luckily get my 6th graders for at least one hour a day.) I was nervous at first. Teenagers scared me. I used to have two of them so I know.

After four days of school, I am happy to announce---I love teenagers! They are funny, insightful, caring, funny, smart, observant, studious, attentive, and funny! And they’re funny! They get most of my jokes. What’s not to love? Also, I've gotten two presents and a hug already this week. I'm lovin' it.

Teaching literature is a hoot. I get to read for about six hours a day. What a job. Is there anything better than doing what you love all day long? I guess the only thing better would be a job where I got to read all day, while scrapbooking with a bowl of Farr’s E.L. Fudge chocolate ice cream, during Dancing With the Stars. And then blogging about it the next day! Heck, yes.

I’ve mentioned Farr’s E.L. Fudge ice cream three times now. Helloooooo….where are my free coupons?

Today [Thursday] marked the two-year anniversary of the day my big (4’11”) sister had a stroke. She was depressed, feeling like two years of her life were spent living in a reduced manner. I, on the other hand was happy, thinking how grateful I was that her life was spared and we’ve had two more years with her and many more to come. Two perspectives of the same event. Both valid.