http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CCQ7IiWZBg
Naw man, it's all about the toothbrush. Ha! "New shoes." What a stupid subject.
I'm back! Or rather, the blog's back. It's fitting that I write a post today, as today I feel a fresh breath in me. I've been sick for about a week, and today I'm feeling pretty much back to normal. It was a really irritating kind of sick. If you're like me, then you hate drizzles. If it's going to rain, then I'd rather have a good pour or a steady drip than that miserable, sneezing drizzle on your head. Well this cold was a drizzle. I felt just almost normal, but bad enough that a beer, too much exercise, or too little sleep made me into a jerk.
But I'm feeling better today! So I came to school and whooped my students' butts back into shape, too. The privilege of my position (Teachers Assistant) is that I'm neither teacher nor student, so I get to do things that neither of them trust themselves to do. I come in with otherworldly expectations and hopes that scare both the teachers and students, and it works! So a couple of weeks ago I memorized and performed "Casabianca," a poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans, for two of my youngest classes (about 14 years old). http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/hemans/works/hf-burning.html
After I finished the nine stanza poem, I told the students I wanted them to memorize the first four stanzas by the next week, which stole a gasp from almost all of them. Heck, I had to spend most of the class going line by line to explain this older, poetic English to them. When we left the class, James turned to me and said something like, "I like the idea, but I don't know if they can or will do it." His misgiving oozed slowly into me, and by my performance in the next class I was already feeling the threat of futility as I faced their confused faces.
I came in the next week with low expectations, and James wasn't to hopeful, either. When we came in, James pointed to four students, made them come up to the front of the class to face the others, and made them each responsible for one of the four assigned stanzas. What happened for the rest of that hour and the next astonished the both of us. Everybody but about five or six students had learned the four stanzas. Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of it all was who came out ahead of the pack. It was the sheepish, barely noticeable students who did the best! The ones who had trailed the others for the entire semester were suddenly our shining stars. I don't know if the reason for the surprising success matters. Maybe the stronger students took their natural gifts for granted and didn't work hard. Maybe that exercise just encouraged a strength that many rarely get to use. It doesn't matter to me. All I know was, I WAS RIGHT. From now on: No mercy. I'm never going to be seduced into believing my students are incapable again.
Yet today when I came in, most had made no progress since two weeks ago. I had given them a little break the last week because they had a big test, but I had asked that they learn two more stanzas until today, and some nodded and the rest put up no protest. When I came in today, they greeted me in a union of brave confessions, "we didn't memorize anything." "What do you mean you didn't learn any of it?" I demanded, "We had a different agreement. You told me you could learn two." They pulled that oh so genius trick I witnessed as a student just a couple of years ago and denied in chorus that they had made such an agreement. "You. Guys. Are. So. Full. Of. S***," I told them with a smile. They knew I wasn't angry, but indignant, so I then pushed them all hard for the rest of class. I poked shoulders and demanded a promise from every one of them at the end of both lessons that they have the entire thing memorized next week. The bar is set.
Last year was good. Last year was great! I found the deep pleasure of a somewhat solitary life in my apartment. Being the social animal I am, though, I invited as many friends into my life as possible. I spent a glorious afternoon in November with James and a girl named Samantha feeding ourselves and a couple of lamas while overlooking this paradise I live in.
I played with other students in a volleyball tournament organized by a few of them. With few legit athletic shorts at my disposal, I came with a construction shirt to compliment my baseball pants, thereby cementing an image and reputation in the heads of all present.
When it came time for the Christmas break and the end of the year/end of the world, I decided to leave some of my students with a gift. Knowing how they treasure every German word I utter, I recited and performed "Die Bürgschaft," a thirty or so stanza poem by Schiller, for the two classes I'm now demanding something similar of. Here's a translation that's really pretty good. Give it a look.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hostage/
I spent a wonderful Christmas in Berlin being spoiled by my good friend Hubertus and his family. We sat at the table together for nearly every meal, and we even sang Christmas songs as a family. I kind of consider them my second family. They definitely treat my like I'm a part of it.
I didn't make any New Year Resolutions this year, which I've never done. It's not that I was completely satisfied with myself. Moreso, I feel like I've been making new resolutions almost every day for a while now, and I see no difference between the 1st of January and the 29th. Living by yourself it's hard not to feel your own weaknesses. When I'm lazy, the undone work scolds me. When I don't bring life to my students in school, I'm haunted at home by the ghosts of bad lessons. When I don't write in my blog, I write in a journal that can't write back. Life constantly demands new resolutions. So here I am now, a good two months later, with higher standards and a new toothbrush.
