Tell me why I don’t like Mondays.
Go ahead. I dare you. It’ll be difficult—especially after today.
Today marked a solid way to start the week, mostly because I bathed in the calm waves of an in-service day. Typically, Monday mornings are nightmarish for most professionals, particularly English teachers who need to scurry around, make sure everything is in order for the week, that the scripts are ready for each production, for each show.
But today? Decidedly different.
I used the time to fine-tune my community-based project, to learn about new avenues to help my squirrels improve their interpretive skills, and to sharpen my favorite unit: poetry and literary analysis.
Teaching poetry to 9th grade boys will prove to be a challenge, but I welcome it.
I love word play, the beauty of our vernacular, the specific patois of regions and culture. We are masters of our own language, the owners of their meaning. Sometimes we keep them to ourselves; often we share them with others so that they, too, can soak in their grandeur, how mismatched lyrics perfectly fit in turns of phrase—very naturally, as if this unseemly juxtaposition of words has always been together.
Despite the contradictions, the truth exists. We are each a paradox, waiting to be understood by our audience.
Ah, poetry, I embrace you—now please embrace my squirrels.
No comments:
Post a Comment