Today, a mouthy grade eight boy hurt my feelers.
I just stared at him with as much sadness as I could muster.
It was a very private moment suspended in time.
Maybe he'll never forget.
xox
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Teen Angst
Grade eights are my favourite for three reasons:
1. They understand sarcasm and can give as well as they can take it: "Miss Crimmins, I never thought of it this way, but it's actually easier to copy your notes when all your lines end up diagonal on the whiteboard. Ever heard of a ruler?"
2. They give everyone a nickname, and while most of the teachers on the floor are called by their last name, they call me Miss. Crim-Crim...even after I told them they probably shouldn't. It's like, they know what's best for me. I love it. It's usually followed by a fist pound. I mean, I probably shouldn't pound fist with them, none of the other teachers pound fist! But you try turning down a fist pound from a grade eight boy!
3. Everything is about killing sprees and gay people. Killing sprees AND gay people! Um...
Maybe I should explain the last one... I am doing a playwriting unit with them, and part of the unit is learning about Renaissance history, and Renaissance theatre (Commedia Del' Arte). They have to use Commedia characters in their plays, that's the deal. But after the first few classes, I quickly realized I'd have to make more deals with them before I lost my internship. All they wanted to do was kill off their characters. We spent an entire class (with all THREE classes!), discussing appropriate ways to kill off characters in their plays. Initially, I said, "No killing." It seemed fair, but they let me know loud and clear that they disagreed. So I stretched my limitations and said, "you may only kill characters through poisoning, and there has to be a happy ending." Arbitrary rules. I don't even know why I say these things. I fear the Man, I suppose. Well, poisoning quickly disbanded their plans for burning, shooting, mauling, stripping, peeing on, peeing over, bow & arrowing, cross bowing, horse trampling, Power Rangers attack, drowning, Ninja fight to the imminent death (direct quote), and poisoning via the tip of a dagger. We decided on poisoning and natural causes such as walking off a cliff (WT...?), flash flood, heavyweight championship, Bowser jump, and go cart accident. The Bowser jump was my idea, and I do not regret it.
Essentially, these plays are going to be miniature gold mines. I cannot wait to bring them home and act them out with my friends on what I hope will be a bi-monthly "Sunday Night Dinner with the Crimmins Kids/Performance Bazaar," hosted by my brother, Jonny and yours truly.
Tonight, I attended Jam Session, where the kids get together and put on an evening of music brought to you by...yep, you guessed it, their own bands! It was truly a nostalgic experience. I heard Spice Girls, Oasis, Alanis Morrisette, and Green Day. I mean, no one, and I mean NO ONE, can hit those high notes like a grade eight boy. I requested "Welcome to the Jungle" but only Harry P. could recall it, and though he tried, it's just not the same acapella.
Lastly, the countdown is on: "Seussical The Musical" opens on May 11 and my kids are going to rock the Kazbah with their slide-ball-change's and box-steps!
I jazz-hand salute you, fair friends!
xox
1. They understand sarcasm and can give as well as they can take it: "Miss Crimmins, I never thought of it this way, but it's actually easier to copy your notes when all your lines end up diagonal on the whiteboard. Ever heard of a ruler?"
2. They give everyone a nickname, and while most of the teachers on the floor are called by their last name, they call me Miss. Crim-Crim...even after I told them they probably shouldn't. It's like, they know what's best for me. I love it. It's usually followed by a fist pound. I mean, I probably shouldn't pound fist with them, none of the other teachers pound fist! But you try turning down a fist pound from a grade eight boy!
3. Everything is about killing sprees and gay people. Killing sprees AND gay people! Um...
Maybe I should explain the last one... I am doing a playwriting unit with them, and part of the unit is learning about Renaissance history, and Renaissance theatre (Commedia Del' Arte). They have to use Commedia characters in their plays, that's the deal. But after the first few classes, I quickly realized I'd have to make more deals with them before I lost my internship. All they wanted to do was kill off their characters. We spent an entire class (with all THREE classes!), discussing appropriate ways to kill off characters in their plays. Initially, I said, "No killing." It seemed fair, but they let me know loud and clear that they disagreed. So I stretched my limitations and said, "you may only kill characters through poisoning, and there has to be a happy ending." Arbitrary rules. I don't even know why I say these things. I fear the Man, I suppose. Well, poisoning quickly disbanded their plans for burning, shooting, mauling, stripping, peeing on, peeing over, bow & arrowing, cross bowing, horse trampling, Power Rangers attack, drowning, Ninja fight to the imminent death (direct quote), and poisoning via the tip of a dagger. We decided on poisoning and natural causes such as walking off a cliff (WT...?), flash flood, heavyweight championship, Bowser jump, and go cart accident. The Bowser jump was my idea, and I do not regret it.
Essentially, these plays are going to be miniature gold mines. I cannot wait to bring them home and act them out with my friends on what I hope will be a bi-monthly "Sunday Night Dinner with the Crimmins Kids/Performance Bazaar," hosted by my brother, Jonny and yours truly.
Tonight, I attended Jam Session, where the kids get together and put on an evening of music brought to you by...yep, you guessed it, their own bands! It was truly a nostalgic experience. I heard Spice Girls, Oasis, Alanis Morrisette, and Green Day. I mean, no one, and I mean NO ONE, can hit those high notes like a grade eight boy. I requested "Welcome to the Jungle" but only Harry P. could recall it, and though he tried, it's just not the same acapella.
Lastly, the countdown is on: "Seussical The Musical" opens on May 11 and my kids are going to rock the Kazbah with their slide-ball-change's and box-steps!
I jazz-hand salute you, fair friends!
xox
Saturday, April 10, 2010
How I Grow
It's okay to make mistakes.
It's okay to not have the right answer.
It's okay to be patient and wait for someone to speak.
It's okay to wonder if you are good enough.
It's okay to accept that you are.
xox
PS. Off to have drinks and a booty shake with my best friend Elizabeth Field tonight. She is visiting the East coast this weekend!
It's okay to not have the right answer.
It's okay to be patient and wait for someone to speak.
It's okay to wonder if you are good enough.
It's okay to accept that you are.
xox
PS. Off to have drinks and a booty shake with my best friend Elizabeth Field tonight. She is visiting the East coast this weekend!
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Process.
My official 7-week practicum started this past week, and as I mentioned in a previous post, I have been assigned to a grade 8 LA classroom. I wasn't given much advice prior; I think my cooperating teacher much prefers the "throw 'em to the wolves" approach, which is fabulous, because I worry far less about making mistakes. Mistakes have become a daily inevitability. I am shamed by how I am only just realizing this cruel but liberating fact two months shy of being 25 years old.
But I digress...
I was asked to not share any personal details with the students upon introducing myself on day one. I thought it was a strange request, but when you're an intern, I've learned that the lesson is in the process, not before the process, so the best thing to do is shut the H up, do what they say, and reflect on their brilliance after. Excuse my language, I've been an intern for many months and I'm feeling a little testy.
So this is what came to me (keep in mind, I didn't think to prepare because aside from my name and purpose, I wasn't allowed to say much else): "Hi, I'm Miss Crimmins. I'm a UNB intern. (Long pause). I'm having the best year of my life, and I'm excited to spend the next 7 weeks with you."
What
The
Shiz
?
"I'm having the best year of my life??"
I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THAT CAME FROM!
"Can we call you Miss Crimms?"
"Uh... no I don't think you can."
And so the adventure continues, no word of a lie.
I wrote what I said on a post-it and put it on my bathroom mirror. It makes me laugh every morning when I get up and look like I was punched in the face. "I'm having the best year of my life" It's still funny. And maybe even true...
xox
But I digress...
I was asked to not share any personal details with the students upon introducing myself on day one. I thought it was a strange request, but when you're an intern, I've learned that the lesson is in the process, not before the process, so the best thing to do is shut the H up, do what they say, and reflect on their brilliance after. Excuse my language, I've been an intern for many months and I'm feeling a little testy.
So this is what came to me (keep in mind, I didn't think to prepare because aside from my name and purpose, I wasn't allowed to say much else): "Hi, I'm Miss Crimmins. I'm a UNB intern. (Long pause). I'm having the best year of my life, and I'm excited to spend the next 7 weeks with you."
What
The
Shiz
?
"I'm having the best year of my life??"
I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THAT CAME FROM!
"Can we call you Miss Crimms?"
"Uh... no I don't think you can."
And so the adventure continues, no word of a lie.
I wrote what I said on a post-it and put it on my bathroom mirror. It makes me laugh every morning when I get up and look like I was punched in the face. "I'm having the best year of my life" It's still funny. And maybe even true...
xox
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