And I forgot why I overloaded Scenario’s 1997 Honda Civic gills and drove her to the Delta.
John Ashbery begins many of his poems in the middle of a thought, usually via a conjunction. Abruptness is the truest form of beginning. There is no cradle to crave narrative – not even our own – that unfolds perfectly. At times it is that these false expectations that prevents me from updating all the wonderful people back home. Damn it I am good at making my absences seem so poetic!
And we started catching up.
…I forgot why…
I forgot in the stream of days where I pushed school from my mind once I arrived home. The items to share and say piled high:
My creative club took off in a spray of sparks and in shouted lines in the center of my humid classroom after I caught a six minute nap at my desk. This week my students will begin work shopping their poems and will prepare to submit. AND….my creative writing class is a go for next year. I got it back on the books!
Time to Teach a NOVEL – j/k
I figured out that questions are an essential to my classroom. I flew high on this after teaching a Sherman Alexi e piece “Superman and Me” just in time to teach a novel. This realization butted right into the block schedule. Block meant all my students would were exchanged for the sophomores. I learned I do love my job. Within all the gripes and mutters into my coffee cup I forgot how my juniors kept me going. Test prep did offer its own lessons. New students gave me some steel in my spine that was much needed. Test prep objectives are more concrete so my goals for each day became clearer.
And I remembered how TFA convinced me to leave all and every.
Tonight we met to discuss the ELA pilot, which is the framework TFA adopted in Nashville and the Delta for English teachers. These visiting staff members were a reminder how hard everyone in TFA works toward a single goal. Surrounded by so much enthusiasm and passion and people who knew what I attempted each and every day…that reenergized me. I am a part of something and it’s so much bigger than I am.
In forgetting my direction and reason for traveling all seemed for naught. I also had two cups of coffee at dinner, so the first draft of this post came out as an existential metatextual poem full of conjunctions and phrases like “We’re a deck of a flimsy cards afraid of houses.”
Caffeine, now with delusions!
Final note of this hodgepodge:
Student: Can I call you Steve?
Mr. Stevens: *questioning look*
Student: So it seems like we're on familiar terms