More Parenthood and Teacherhood

June 30, 2023 — faemom

When I was in high school, I wasn’t a fan of William Shakespeare. I found him overrated and a hack. I did give him a chance. I read “Romeo and Juliet” and “Antony and Cleopatra” on my own in my freshmen year. I hated Shakespeare’s version of Cleopatra. I hated the women of “Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I hated Lady Macbeth. Surprisingly I loved Richard III. Somehow I got Hamlet.

When I voiced my opinions to one of my professors in college, he thought my opinions were based on my ignorance of Shakespeare. I’m sorry, what? So to prove his ass wrong, I took all the Shakespeare classes. I read every one of those damn plays and sonnets. I never let on to my Shakespeare professor what I thought of the Bard; hence, she thought I loved him. I left college believing Shakespeare was a hack. But he was also a genius.

Now I teach him. Because I have to. The man’s imprint on literature, all literature, is unfathomable. Also nerd humor. So much nerd humor.

So when my colleague said she decided to teach “Macbeth” this last year, I exclaimed, “I have MEMES! So many! I’ll sent them to you!”

Because this woman is my mother’s age and not tech savvy at all, she said, “What is a meme?”

“Do you live under a rock?”

“You’re a b—–.”

“Yes, well, memes have been around literally forever. Since humans have been able to make contemporary jokes based on pictures and words. Basically memes are taking one or more allusions and combining them in relative ways.”

“Why do you know so much?”

So I made her a PowerPoint of over 100 Macbeth Memes. It was a lot. But every time I wanted to stop, I found a new one. She ended up using them as bell work, where the kids would write about what they thought the meme meant and why it was relevant to the scene or character. Then she had the kids explain the meme to her because she often didn’t get the reference. It was great.

So when Tornado E said, “Remember how you wanted me to tell you when we read Shakespeare? We’re reading Macbeth.”

Me: I have MEMES! Like So Many Memes! I’m sending them to you!

Tornado E: Please don’t.

Me: Too late. Sent one.

Tornado E: Why are you like this?

Me: Oh! And you’re about to find out what I yell ‘The Birnam Wood is moving!’ every time you carry my Poet-tree for me at my school.

Tornado E: ….

Me: You’re going to love Macbeth.

So for weeks I sent him Macbeth memes every day. Poor kid.

Until one day:

Tornado E: Hey, remember when you told me to tell you when we’re reading Hamlet?

Me: It’s finally happened.

Tornado E: We’re starting it tomorrow.

Me: Ok. Sit. I need to explain something very important. If you don’t understand this, Hamlet will suck. Ok. Hamlet is your age. He’s no older than 22. He’s in college.

Tornado E: That’s not what my teacher says. She said he was like 30.

Me: That makes no sense. Hamlet is in college. He had a big fight with his dad before going back to college, and his dad died. So he’s dealing with the guilt. Then before he can even come home, his mom marries his dad’s brother. Which now Hamlet is mourning, filled with guilt, and this is over the top. And Hamlet should be king and he’s not. Why? Because he’s too young to be king.

Tornado E: Ok, this makes more sense.

Me: If Hamlet is 30, then he’s a loser, failure to launch, too immature to be trusted with anything. The whole play makes no sense. If he’s a young adult, then his indecisiveness makes sense because he’s too young to know what to do or who to trust. Ignore the age of any actor. Trust me.

Tornado E: Ok.

A week or two later.

Tornado E: I’ve decided to ask for your help. Because it seems you know what you’re talking about.

Me: And?

Tornado E: You seem to know more about Hamlet than my teacher.

Me: I think I should be offended somewhere.

Tornado E: My teacher wants me to analyze Hamlet through the Freudian lens.

Me: What the f? Are you kidding me? Freud? What is wrong with your teacher? That’s not even- No. Freud is wrong over most things. Like most things. And that interpretation is wrong. Like so wrong. And. It’s not even in there.

Tornado E: What are you even talking about?

Me: Ok. Freud coined the theory of Oedipus complex. That boys are secretly in love with their mothers.

Tornado E: What the hell?

Me: It’s been disproven. It’s very stupid once you think about it. Can mothers and sons have strong bonds? Absolutely. Does that mean that the boys want to screw their moms? No.

Tornado E: What was wrong with that man?

Me: The drugs. Any ways. There’s a modern interpretation of Hamlet that the reason Hamlet is upset that his mom marries his uncle is because he’s secretly in love with his mom.

Tornado E: Ewww.

Me: It’s not in the literature. It is in some of the movies. And it’s gross. But that’s not the reason Hamlet is angry. 1. Hamlet is mourning. His mom should be mourning. 2. His mom remarried quickly. Most kids have a hard time with their parents remarrying after a divorce or death. Then his mom marrying so quickly feels like a betrayal. 3. His mom marries his dad’s brother, leaving Hamlet to wonder if this relationship started before his dad was dead. So yeah, Hamlet has every right to be angry.

Tornado E: That makes sense. But I still have to use Freud.

Me: I got you covered. She said a Freudian lens, right? Freud was right about psychoanalysis, which is our past trauma can affect our present. He was right about the talking theory. So. How has Hamlet’s past shaped his decisions today? OR How would Hamlet handle the situation if he had someone who he could talk to and who could guide him or at least give him a better line of thinking?

Tornado E: Ok. I think I have an idea. You know you’re rather good at this.

Me: Yeah, it was my major. It’s my job.

A few weeks later.

Tornado E: Hey, I have to come up with a metaphor for Hamlet or an aspect of the play.

Me: Cool. Do you need help? I’ve got some ideas.

Tornado E: I already have one. A Burger King crown.

Me: Kid, you’re going to go far. I’m proud of you.

Posted in Raising Tornadoes, Sometimes I'm the star, Tornado E. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a Comment »

Telling a Lesson

February 12, 2018 — faemom

Me:

Me: Sit down (to the kid who was up for the 10th time)

Kid: I can’t miss.

Me: You’re 14; you can sit for 50 minutes.

Kid: But you don’t. You never sit for 50 minutes.

Me: First, I chose a career where I don’t have to sit for 50 minutes at a time. I like standing. And kid, I went to Catholic school. I had to kneel for 50 minutes. Now. SIT.

I smirked at the end of the story that I was telling my mom in the kitchen.

Tornado E: Mama, why did you have to kneel for 50 minutes?

Me: It was a punishment. I talked in church.

Tornado E: Did you tell your student that?

Me: What? No. I’m not an idiot.

Tornado E: Huh.

Huh, in deed…..

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Dress Up Time

September 8, 2017 — faemom

It was Spirit Week at school this week. They do them after 3 day weekends or breaks to entice kids back to school. Right. If you want teenagers in school, bring food. Any ways, one day was Battle of the Ages. They expected us to dress Greek, Roman, or Spartan. Uh… Um….. I …. Nevermind.

Now personally, I thought it was a misfire. Not everyone can dress like a Greek or Roman or have the confidence to. I would’ve, but I was a nerd. And at least, it was better than Gender Swap Day. I cringe just writing it.

So the day came. I took a sheet and folded it into peplos. (Told you I was a nerd. I do nothing in halves, so when I was in middle school, enamored by Greek myths, I learned to dress as the ancient Greeks.) I pinned it with help from my mother and cinched it with a tie.

Because some of the adults who watched my nerdy-ancient-loving teenage phase encouraged me, I have quite a lot of jewelry inspired by ancient designs. I put on earrings, rings, and a necklace.

I braided my hair in a few braids. I put on a few silver headbands. I twisted and knotted my hair before shoving in a dozen or more bobby pins.

Off I went in sandals, instead of my usual combat boots or mary janes.

And the kids loved it.

“Miss, are you a goddess?”

“Miss, you look beautiful!”

“Wow, miss, you’ve got school spirit!”

“Miss, how did you do that?”

“Miss, you’re so cool.”

“Miss, your hair looks amazing.”

As I teach freshmen, I didn’t expect a lot of participation for Spirit Week. They’re too worried that they will look uncool. For fewer participated in Battle of the Ages, only one. None of the student council or cheerleaders.

When I arrived home, I had forgotten that the boys hadn’t seen me yet.

They ran to greet me when they heard the door open. They stopped in their tracks.

Tornado S: Mama! What are you wearing?!

Tornado A: You look pretty, Mama!

Tornado S: You look beautiful, Mama!

Tornado E: You look like a goddess, Mama. Did your students think you were a goddess?

Me: One asked if I was Zeus. I said I didn’t have the beard for it, but he said I would look cool with a thunderbolt.

Tornado E: Pssht. You should have said you were Athena. That’s who you look like.

Me: Thank you, my boys.

I kissed them all.

 

Posted in Raising Tornadoes, Sometimes I'm the star. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a Comment »

A Difference of a Year

August 2, 2017 — faemom

Last year was one of the worst birthdays I ever had. It cracked the top three. It was the second day on the job, and my room was far, so very far, from being ready, especially as I had freshman orientation the next day. My new key from the district didn’t work, but someone saw my distress and let me into my room to put my stuff in. So I was nearly late for the group picture. After pictures, I ran around the campus trying to find someone to help me with the key. Oh, I can’t help; go ask Mr. So-and-so. Oh, I can’t help, go ask So-and-So. Finally I got a sub key to get in my room to grab my stuff for my meeting. Which I was now late too. They were talking about teen depression and suicide. And I got triggered. Tears streamed down my face as I stood in the back until I finally had to ran as professionally as I could to the hall before collapsing in sobs. What the hell? After that meeting ended, I was able to compose myself for the next meeting, which ran long. Then I had to run to the district office to get a new key and race back to my school and my unfinished room. I nearly started crying again at all the work still left to do as my room had been completely thrashed by summer school and was a left over room from someone who had retired. Why clean up if no one is ever going to see you again? I worked as long as I could but was not nearly done. I got home just before we had to race to dinner and then to karate and then I had to drop my boys off at their dad’s. Yeah, last year really did suck.

But this year. My room was pretty much intact, and my parents and the boys came in with me on Saturday to help me. I was done with everything I could do yesterday at 1:30 but stayed until 2:30 because I had a meeting at that time. (That’s when I learned I’ll have 38 students in one period. Holy cow! I don’t even have enough desks!) Today I still had issues like no speakers, no remotes, no AC, and a leaky room. But the AC was fixed, and the remotes were found.

So imagine my delight when my phone rang during my planning time during freshman orientation. It was my mom, and I had to answer it just in case one of the boys was hurt.

Me: Hello?

Tornado A: Happy birthday to you! You live in a zoo! You look like a monkey! And you smell like one too! Happy birthday, Mama!

Me: Thanks, Baby.

Posted in Raising Tornadoes, Sometimes I'm the star, Tornado A. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a Comment »

Nope, Never Ok, Not Ever.

April 24, 2017 — faemom

“Nazis. I hate these guys.”

This year Nazis keep coming up, and it annoys the crap out of me.

Earlier in the fall in two separate class, on two separate days, two different boys gave the Nazi salute. It may help to tell you that I work in a high school that is over 90% Hispanic. And yes, both boys were Hispanic. But no matter the race, my reaction would have been the same.

You! Outside NOW!

Me: (in my mother voice) What did you do? Do you think that was respectful? Do you think that was appropriate? For my classroom? For public? Do you even know what that sign means?

Boy: (finally saying something instead of shaking his head, in a whisper voice looking at his feet) It’s just the Nazi salute Miss.

Me: (in my mother voice) “Just the Nazi salute?” Do you know what the Nazis stood for? The one pure race. Which they believed would be white. They believed all others inferior and preferred them dead. They would want you dead. And by doing that sign, you are saying you agree. With. Them.

Boy: (snaps up head to finally look me in the eye) But it was just an old German thing.

Me: No. They are Nazis still very much alive and active and everywhere. (At this point, the boy’s eyes go round.) And you are saying you’re a race traitor.

Boy: I’m… I’m sorry, Miss.

Me: And I (The Voice) Don’t ever want to see THAT sign in my class A. GAIN. (Normal teacher voice) Am I clear?

Boy: Yes, Miss. I’m sorry, Miss. I won’t do it again.

And after the second time, it hasn’t happened since.

While I hesitate to mention my work on my Mommy Blog, it brings me to what has been happening in Tornado E’s grade. With 6th graders. In a school across town with a 70% white majority. With a middle class background.

Tornado E has been coming home with some interesting stories.

Mama, the boys are talking about the Nazis. They think they’re cool. I don’t think they’re cool. I don’t like this, Mama.

So and so thinks Hitler was funny. I told him Hitler was evil, not funny. I don’t think he believed me.

Mama, so and so drew a swastika, and all the boys laughed. No, Mama, he erased it before the teacher saw.

Mama, so and so put a finger under his noise and said he was Hitler. The boys laughed. I keep telling them it’s not funny.

Mama, one of the boys said “Heil, Hitler” to one of the boys. No, Mama, the teacher didn’t hear. I don’t like this, Mama.

So the boys and I have had talks about race and privileged. We’ve talked about what to do when we are in a group of people who are saying bad things. We’ve talked about how to confront our friends.  And I decided this had to stop.

Only I dropped the ball, being a busy mom and teacher. Until I was at a 6th grade field trip, eating alone, recharging my batteries, sitting in a corner, watching the dynamics, listening.

Mumble, mumble, Nazi, mumble, weapons. Laughter. Mumble, Nazis, mumble, mumble. Laughter. Nazis, mumble, mumble. Mumble, mumble, Nazi weapons.

With the first Nazi that reached my ear, I locked on to the group of boys who were sitting far enough away from me that I couldn’t hear every word and further still from every adult, especially the teachers. So I watched them, listening. I watched them laugh and have a good time. The inflection was not what you want boys to be using when speaking of Nazis. I had enough.

So I went to the teachers and told them all about what I heard through the year so far and that Tornado E was being put into a rough spot, having to moniter his peers. I told them how I had handled it and learned that many of the kids had no idea how serious this conversation was and suggested that it be dealt as a class issue. The teachers agreed and thanked me.

Two weeks went by.

Mama, one of the boys dared another boy to do the Nazi salute. So he did. And then a bunch of them did it behind a teacher’s back.

Oh for Christ sake.

I immediately sat down and wrote the teacher about the incident.

I got a reply from the teacher a few hours later apologizing for not talking to the social studies teacher, promising it will be addressed with all the classes.

I haven’t heard of an incident since. But I swear if I do, I will march into that principal’s office first thing and demand that this nonsense end.

Man, I hate Nazis.

Posted in Raising Tornadoes, Sometimes I'm the star, Tornado E. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a Comment »

What’s new?

October 7, 2015 — faemom

I start a job and look what happens to my blogging. I knew it. I absolutely knew it.

I’m a long term sub, which means I can’t breathe the word “sub” or the kids will eat me for lunch. Luckily, I’m a tough meal to swallow. I’ve spent the last few days hammering the class back in to shape. With Fall Break next week, I expect my job will take longer. I’ve spent the last several nights thinking of how I can …. manage….my …..class…..

I’m teaching math. Not my strongest subject. But I’m an adult, so I do algebra every day. I can do this. I plan to just follow the book. “Make sure you follow the state standards,” remarked my principal. Dude, you know my background; you know my crappy (oh so very crappy, as in half of what a starting teacher makes) pay. I’ll follow the textbook because that should be effective since the school board picked it.

I’m hoping things will settle down and ease up. I hope I can do right by these kids.

Posted in Sometimes I'm the star. Tags: , , , . Leave a Comment »
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