of course i did [warning: explicit, humorous language].

Right now I’m sitting in an echoing corridor of Morrison Hall, poking my head in the two seperate rooms my students are taking their finals in. Why two seperate rooms? Well, I’ll tell you.

I got to campus at 10:30 AM to pick up the tests. After that, I went to grab breakfast on campus with Ezra. So far, so good. At 11:19, I go back to my office to grab the tests, only everyone else had already left and I was locked out. After a good deal of running up and down the dreaded stairs of Carroll Science and a couple of calls from students, I finally make it to Morrison Hall. As I’m walking in, I see both sections of my academic dependents exiting a room that was “crowded as hell.” So, together, we took a little walk around the building, found a couple of empty rooms and got started — though not before I announced that it was “probably a good thing I only had one semester to fuck students up.”

Well, it was bound to happen someday. I finally said “fuck” in front of my students. Two hours shy of leaving with some dignity I said, almost literally, “fuck it.”

Good thing I’ve spent the entire semester conditioning my students to a) not be shocked by anything I might say or do and b) to just roll with it. After dropping the ole f-bomb, showing up 10 minutes late for the final, telling them I wore my new boots so I wouldn’t have to shave my legs, and going pretty much rogue on departmental policy, they just went along with it all, laughing as they did, reminding me to be glad they’d already filled out my student evaluations. As if I hadn’t thought of that. 

While passing out the test, two of my students told me how the other proctors were freaking out and making “executive decisions” in my absence, which I guess is what happens when you’re on top of things as a teacher. I’m actually really proud that my students just up and left, all together, to find me. To quote one student: “They didn’t understand we’ve been with you all semester. 11:30 means 11:45, and everyone would be fine.” It’s taken some of my closest friends a lot longer to figure out the same thing. 

As they’re handing in their test, saying good-byes and wishing happy holidays, they’re telling me how much they enjoyed my class (*ahemgradesnotinyetahem*). I’m pretending it’s not just because of my general spaznuggetry. Each time I say bye, I reminded how this really is what I love doing. Though I’m about to take a couple of years off and work in completely unrelated sector, these kids brought home the reason I got into my discipline to begin with: because I love using English to show students what they’re capable of,  helping them find their voice and be taken seriously. And also to say “fuck” in front 43 college freshmen at the nation’s largest Baptist university. 

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would it have been better not to know? yes.

I used a student suggested roll call question last week: if one day you found yourself in jail, what did you most likely do to get there? The answers I got covered a spectrum of things likely to make Ms. Adams uncomfortable, from the slightly disconcerting (”Shoplifting? I don’t know? I just don’t like paying for things?”) to the irritating (”Probably for standing up for something I believed in.”), to the ohgodohgodohgod (”Probably…..torturing and killing someone. Yeah. Someone who made me mad or something.”).

Then we got into the sticky situation of getting caught for something they do on a regular basis. For example, “I’d probably be in a fight. Like last weekend. That cop…man. What was his deal?” Or, “DUI, DWI, one of those. Probably doing something stupid like hitting a pedestrian.” Lots of underage drinking, breaking and entering, and — that perennial favorite — trespassing. 

Trespassing did you say? The top of the Alico building? Waco rights of passage (even though I’ve yet to make the climb), blah blah blah. Then, one of my favorite little deviants goes there:

“You know what another fun building to break into downtown is? That one with the Olive Branch. It’s so easy too! You climb up the fire escape to the third floor and climb in the broken window. They tried to close it up once but…”

You get the picture. My student has been regularly breaking into my apartment building. Terrific. 

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best p.s. ever

After the Adderall-free, stream-of-consciousness rant I gave on introductions and conclusions, I receive this day-making e-mail from a student (the body of the email was about an assignment, the P.S. is the relevant bit):

P.S- You really saved me on Tuesday with your comment about not taking your ADD medicine. I started laughing when you said that but then I remembered that I had forgotten to take MY ADHD medicine that morning as well and I had a test later on that day. Luckily I was able to go back to my room to get it. Just wanted to let you know how you inadvertently helped me out.

Ms. Adams: she spazzes out so you don’t have to! 

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teaching wk. 9, pt. 2: the day i told my kids i’d be a stripper

When Dr. Losey offered me a TA position, he assured me my students would love me because I’m “quirky and self-deprecating in a really endearing way.” While that’s not a traditional pedagogical approach, it’s how I’ve survived so far. Unfortunately, at this rate, it will also result in an escorted removal from Baylor’s campus.

Today we did peer reviews. A couple of kids finished really early, so I handed out index cards and asked for three suggestions for roll call questions. Roll call questions are a unanimous favorite in both my classes, and they’ve actually helped me a lot as well. I ask an unusual or telling question at the beginning of class, and as I take attendance, they answer. It’s a practice that has helped me get to know my students, makes them feel at ease, and is a lot of fun in general. Questions have ranged from “What was your favorite TV show as a kid” (I almost lost control of both my classes with that one) to “If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?” The raciest things ever got was “Who is your celebrity crush?”, so they obviously have a precedent for what is and is not appropriate. Too bad they, like I, ignore that.  

If I didn’t love my students before, I certainly would now — and not just because I hope they don’t report me. Yes, there were a lot of boring, half-assed entries (”What’s your favorite color?” , “If you were stranded on a desert island…”, etc), but I was thrilled by some of the other suggestions; those will be their own entry. First, let’s talk about how I told my kids I’d be a stripper. 

One student, who cracks me up for a lot of unintentional reasons (and who I’d already publicly antagonized, albeit lovingly, this class period), turns in a card on which his third question is, ahem, “If you had to be a stripper, a prostitute, or a slave, what would you choose? Why?”

First thing out of my mouth: “[Student's Name], are you trying to get me fired? Why would I ever ask this in class?”

Second thing out of my mouth: “Guys, listen to what [Student's Name] thinks is a good thing to say in class…”

After I read the question — and pointed out it should be “which” not “what” — I wondered again why he would ask that, especially when the answer is so obvious: of course I’d be a stripper. Who would choose to be a prostitute? And even as a prostitute, you’d get paid, unlike a slave. As a stripper you don’t really have to touch people. Another student pointed out that wasn’t true, because sometimes you have to give lap dances. I agreed, but pointed out that’s not the same thing. 

I apologize to parents everywhere. But also, what sort of children did you send me?

Perhaps if this had come during a normal day, it would be one thing, but I had already pointed out that, though I love my ringtone (”Business Time” by Flight of the Conchords), it’s kinda weird when my dad calls.

Also, I had to say at one point, “Kyle, while are you fondling John?” “Fondling” had been an overstatement, since Kyle was just rubbing John’s shoulder and leg to make him uncomfortable and being wildly successful. I had to ask him to molest John on his own time, and not in my class where I responsible for John’s virtue.

And then, I had told a story about running into one of the students in the class at Season’s Creamery. After leaving, Ezra had said, “You did that thing you do.” I responded, “What thing?” He said, “You know, that thing you do where you wave your arms and make that weird ‘baaah’ noise.” Then followed a conversation in which, through fits of paranoia, I went through my many, many recurring gestures that occasion me to wave my arms and go “baaaaah.” I concluded that being a crazy octopus is the cornerstone of my communicative skills. 

Then I told them I would be a stripper. At least I didn’t say prostitute. 

 

 

 

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teaching, wk 9: “it’s a party hat!”

I haven’t written about teaching in a while, but that’s not to say it’s been going badly. In fact, it’s been going pretty great. I’ve found something of a stride in the classroom, I’m not letting them out twenty minutes early (sometimes I don’t even finish, which I thought would never happen), and I’m starting to get some feedback. Most exciting, I’m seeing some of my students make leaps in their writing. 

I did a mid-semester evaluation/questionnaire and got some surprising results. Most surprising is that they want more grammar lessons, which means I need to review more grammar. Luckily, Jonathan Gitlin has a fabulous, grammar-master of a mom who wrote a fabulous, grammar-simplifier of a book. I’m planning to work that into many a lesson from now until the end of the semester. 

I had a few kids tell me I was their favorite teacher and that they enjoyed my class. I also had students tell me, however, that they wanted to be better writers by semester’s end, but they didn’t want to write so much. That aside, I felt pretty good about myself. Which is why days like today are inevitable. 

Today I covered introductions and conclusions: what they should do and some good ways to make them do it. At one point, I had four different abstract shapes on the board, each explaining an introduction. Sure they were. And my analogy of intro = birth announcement/conclusion = eulogy was unanimously declared (okay, by one student — but she was loud) lame. Which is was. But guess what? Lessons on intros and conclusions are lame. I was keeping tone. The highlight of my lecture came in the first class when, while describing the specific-to-general pyramid, I realized I’d made a party hat. Like this:

Then I exclaimed, “Party hat!” That was quickly followed by my fourth apology/explanation that I didn’t take my adderall this morning. I took it before my second class. It didn’t go much better, though they were spared my explanation of the unhealthy relationship between the independent and dependent clauses on either side of a colon (”I need you, baby! I can’t exist without you! I have no meaning when you’re gone!” self-satisfied chuckle). 

Really, making a fool of myself doesn’t bother me like it used to. Getting to know my students makes the whole thing worthwhile. I did student conferences all last week, and while it was exhausting, I kept thinking how much I like my students. They’re actual people. And they’re precious. 

My day had two shining highlights. First, during my “lecture,” I accidentally made up a new word: “relephant.” It’s an elephant that matters. Second, in response to the roll call question asking for their irrational fears and phobias, one girl said butterflies. She is terrified of butterflies. I still don’t know how that happens. 

 

 

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