If You Chill I Chill

From the mouths of babes come words of weirdness:

Life Ass A Knight

In a student essay: “…I want to fight for my village. And that is life ass a knight.”

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One of my students from last semester who always chills in my room before school starts asked me a question today:

--Ms. W, can I set you up on a blind date?

--No. (Are you crazy?)

--But you’d have such cute mixed-race babies!

--Oh, in that case… still no. (But how tempting).

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Perhaps I need to fig-leaf them

Pictures of Michelangelo and Donatello’s statues of David are up on the board. Students are mostly over the fact of nude statues. But, as I suddenly pause in the middle of a sentence, I hear from the back of the room, a quiet conversation not meant to be overheard: “—mine’s bigger.” 

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Ran my activity where students write letters to their teachers again. A few wrote to me, most to other teachers. Some gems:

·  Dear Teacher, I am Black America, who is loud and all about my work. But I know you don’t believe I’m all about my work because I’m black. Not trying to be racist. If you chill I chill bow I’m out.

·      Yall need to help me cause I am not that smart. All yall need to help all the new Hispanic people that come you all think they know English.

·      Math is so hard to me, it is like mowing a lawn for thousands of hours all day and all night. Amen. And now I'm offering math tutoring after school...

·      I don’t think I’m being treated as an equal. Sometimes the class is dead and not hype.

·      From a student who has come to my class exactly twice: I’m a slow learner, and most teachers won’t help me catch up. That’s all that’s needed. May I suggest an additional necessity? Attendance.

·      Dear Ms. W, I’m feeling okay with this class. I like to have little brakes (to stoke your little engine?).  I like that the class be interesting.

·      From a Spanish-speaker: My teacher is beautiful. Hola, miss w! Aww, hola!

·      Ms. W, I like your loud voice when you speak to the class. Well, phew!

·      From one student: hola maestra!

buenos dias yo no mucho ingles y pues solo ce espanol espero que me entien aunque cena un poquito yo quisiera aprender mas el ingles me gusta mucho el ingles y pues quiero aprender lo mas porque me cuesta mucho y pues quiero saber los dos lenguages a unque uno ya loce muy bien y es el espanol pero el ingles me cuesta y solo heso nada mas y me gusta mucho

ok, es bonito y pues si aprendo mas ingles ba hacer mejor.

okay bye.

(Because the point of this exercise is getting yourself and identity across to your teacher, I told certain students they could write in Spanish. Google translate says this one wants to learn English. Teacher says, “awww!”)

Today, each block stopped to have a long discussion before we could go on with humanism. True to form, second block wanted to discuss whether I'd kicked the trashcan over on purpose. Umm, no. Third block needed to have a long debate about whether students should learn vocational subjects or become Renaissance men. Um, yes! Five points to you, third block. You go, third block! And fourth block really needed to get the matter of whether Tupac is alive or dead cleared up. That's the last time I run a comparison of his lyrics and Machiavelli's theories. Oh, fourth block, you make me laugh. 

By the way, I’m reading Waverly, and Scott has the same criticisms to make of education then as we do now: “The history of England is now reduced to a game at cards, the problems of mathematics to puzzles and riddles, and the doctrines of arithmetic may, we are assured, be sufficiently acquired by spending a few hours a week at a new and complicated edition of the Royal Game of the Goose.” Sound legit.

Finished Medieval Manors:

Manor with Feudal Contract