aaaaaaaaaaaaaclassroom full of young children are assigned by their teacher to memorize the same poem and recite it in front of the class. the poem is not important, nor the author of the poem and even less the teacher of the class. on this day, the day the class is meant to recite the poem, the teacher asks for a volunteer from her mostly timid students to begin the reading and several hands peek above the four rows of nervous heads. the first recantation is practiced, if not rushed, eager to be gotten through first. the second is overly dramatic, more labored-nearly tedious. thankfully for this teacher, who, just today, as recommended by her doctor, increased her daily dose of the SSRI inhibitor Zoloft from two 25 mg green bars to two 50 mg blue bars, the fire drill, scheduled by the school district for 11:00 but taking place at 11:03 on the digital display above the door in each class because the school time was three minutes ahead of what the teachers commonly called "life time" and what others might refer to as Eastern Standard Time, interrupted the third before he ended the second stanza. As the class lines up at the door, no fewer than three students are more than relieved having completely forgotten the day's assignment. AND by the time the students will arrive back in the classroom, there will only be enough time to assign tomorrow's homework.
tomorrow's homework is a five sentence reflective paragraph on the student's experience of reciting the poem to the class. In lieu of the day's events, the teacher allows the students the option of writing about their experience during the fire drill; since the topic of the assignment was self-reflective writing, the subject hardly mattered.
all but one will write about the drill. the other will write that he wished he hadn't gone first.
No comments:
Post a Comment