Everyone loves a teacher during the school year. People see them hard at work, classes full of children and arms full of prep work and marking. Yes, teachers are diligent and hardworking, they think to themselves. "I don't know how you do it," they say.
Enter summer. Suddenly, teachers aren't so beloved. People don't appreciate the Facebook posts about how much sun a teacher got Wednesday afternoon, or how much teachers seem to looove sleeping in. Suddenly, it becomes, "must be nice to be a teacher", and "I can't believe you get paid in the summer!" and "what an easy job! How much do teachers make again?"
Now to be fair, (and I've said this before) many teachers don't technically get paid for the summer - they are on a ten month contract, simply split over 12 months. And many do, indeed, put in an amazing number of hours of unpaid overtime due to that constant prepping and marking required of them (especially, I venture to say, English teachers). And teachers do prep during the summer too. Keep in mind also,that teachers, for the most part, can't take holidays off-season - they are limited to school-sanctioned holidays like Christmas, spring break, and summer. No February trip to Cancun for us!
That said, truthfully, the extended holiday time is a very nice teacher perk. Who wouldn't want two months off every summer? And this summer has been absolutely full of family time - bike rides and walks to the park and ice-cream dates and swimming and sun. Still to come are parties and camping and a road trip to the States. And, of course, more bike rides and parks and swimming and sun.
It makes me thankful for this concentrated time to just - breathe. To enjoy my family and this time together. Soon enough, I'll be prepping for next year. For now, though, I plan to stay up late, wake up later, and make memories with my husband and children. It is nice to be a teacher.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Things to Do, People to Write, Goals to Ignore...
Yeah, okay, so it's been a while. I could blame all sorts of things: lack of time, inspiration, interest, readership... but honestly, I just got busy and then sort of forgot about this thing.
I love writing. And I actually love this blog. I'm just a busy girl with so many would-be hobbies, I can't seem to stick with any of them. Here are the top 15 things I'm "working on" now:
So I'm goal setting. August. I'll get it all done in August. Of course I'll get it done in August. Right??
I love writing. And I actually love this blog. I'm just a busy girl with so many would-be hobbies, I can't seem to stick with any of them. Here are the top 15 things I'm "working on" now:
- I wrote a novel in November. I'm trying to edit it now. Maybe I'll do something with it. Maybe not. I'm thinking about it though.
- I'm working on writing this other book. I LOVE it. But I'm only on page five.
- I'm planning on writing something with my sister in August. We're in the storyline stages now.
- I have a stack on my "to-read" pile. I just finished "The Host" by Stephanie Meyer. It was surprisingly great. I know she doesn't have a reputation among many literary snobs as being this great writer, but I think she writes in a way that is interesting and pleasurable to read. And the Host was simply fantastic. So there.
- I started using Twitter. Mostly to keep up with the husband.
- I want to get running again. Or join a gym. Or SOMETHING physical.
- I need to re-do my grade 9 English Language Arts units. I don't like the way my course was laid out this year, and I didn't enjoy all the texts I did in that class either. And since English is a course where you can pick and choose how you want to accomplish the outcomes, I'd like to at least be picking things that might be interesting for the students (and for the teacher, too).
- I need to read Hiroshima and plan a unit around it for a new grade 11 course I'm teaching. I also need to plan an adventure unit - and find some adventure novels at a variety of reading levels.
- I'd like to update my professional blog, but I can't figure out how to sign in. As in - I can't even get to the sign-in page.
- I have the space for the children's playroom emptied, but I need to now fill it with their stuff.
- The house is a disaster. I need to clean it.
- I have 700 prints that I printed two months ago to put into my photo album. They are in a box on my dining room table.
- The beach is calling my name.
- I started a series on Netflix. I like it but am only on episode five. I want to watch some more please.
- A friend from work lent me a tv series that looks awesome. I haven't started yet. But it's on my list!!
So I'm goal setting. August. I'll get it all done in August. Of course I'll get it done in August. Right??
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Slow Fade of Lost Friendships
I remember being 15 and experiencing the pain of "breaking up" with a friend. It was a sharp disagreement about something unimportant, followed by angry words, silence, and then the realization that we had officially "broken up". It was sad, and I regret not making amends when I could. When I think about it, it was my anger and unforgiveness that led to the end of our friendship, and I wonder how things might have been had I chosen to let the slight slide off my back, instead of reacting so hotly, and then so very coldly.
As an adult, though, I no longer "break up" with my friends. Instead, friendships that were once so very important to me simply fade away until there is nothing left at all, except maybe the odd comment on our Facebook pages. The reasons, of course, vary.
One friend ceased calling years ago when I stopped going out on the weekends with her. She and I were tight, when I wasn't living out my faith like I should have been. She had this warm, fun, sexy personality, and I felt free and confident and happy just being with her. She was, at the time, my closest girlfriend, and I loved her. I was heartbroken when I realized we just weren't friends anymore. We tried, once, when I was on my mat. leave, to imagine we were still friends - we hit the beach together, in our two-pieces with our cameras and sunglasses and oversized beach bags. It was fun, but artificial, and we didnt' try again.
Another moved to a different province, and no effort was made on either of our parts to stay in any real kind of touch. This girl has this amazingly sharp wit: Few people made me laugh like she did - and still does, when we interact via, of course, Facebook. I love her still. But we're not truly in one another's lives any longer.
Another became a stay-at-home Mom, and made all sorts of new stay-at-home-Mom friends, who just had more in common in terms of lifestyle, interpretation of faith, and children's personality (even though our girls are only a week apart, they never really played very well together). And so she stopped calling and accepting invitations out. And to be honest, I think, when we were still making an effort to connect, I was a little condescending about her beliefs and a little boring to be with, too. We just lost all things in common, perhaps.
Another is in the process of fading, well on its way to oblivion, in fact. I can feel it coming; phone calls and text messages aren't returned for weeks, plans are frequently broken, and our conversations are stilted and forced. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. Sometimes, I'll try to remember a time I might have offended her or disappointed her or hurt her feelings. But in reality, I think it's just the busyness of our lives and the fact that, when life is so busy, time can only be stretched so far. And some people just don't make the cut. And in this case, it's me. And it's disappointing and sad - but not entirely unfair. I mean, we were friends as kids, and maybe it just isn't translating so well into adulthood.
When people matter to you, no matter how busy life is, you simply make the time. That's just the way it is. I know. In the close friendships that I am blessed to still have, we are all so busy we can barely breathe: but somehow, we still connect. Whether it's going out for dinner once a month, catching a movie once in a blue moon, or hanging out twice a year, we stay connected through sheer force of will. We text or call, we Facebook Message or Email. We make an effort to at least personally communicate, even when we can't physically find the time to be together.
The older I get, the more people I seem to lose through neglect, or polite distance, or hurts unspoken. And I wonder if I should fight the loss more: Do I double my efforts to hold on to the fading friendships, or do I accept the fact that we only have so much time to go around, and to spend this precious time on people who we no longer really know is not a worthwhile endeavour at all?
I don't know. But this I do know: I know I'm thankful for my current friends and I hope every day that they know how much they mean to me. I am also thankful for the friends that I have lost: thankful for what we meant to each other once, thankful for the memories I have because of them.
As an adult, though, I no longer "break up" with my friends. Instead, friendships that were once so very important to me simply fade away until there is nothing left at all, except maybe the odd comment on our Facebook pages. The reasons, of course, vary.
One friend ceased calling years ago when I stopped going out on the weekends with her. She and I were tight, when I wasn't living out my faith like I should have been. She had this warm, fun, sexy personality, and I felt free and confident and happy just being with her. She was, at the time, my closest girlfriend, and I loved her. I was heartbroken when I realized we just weren't friends anymore. We tried, once, when I was on my mat. leave, to imagine we were still friends - we hit the beach together, in our two-pieces with our cameras and sunglasses and oversized beach bags. It was fun, but artificial, and we didnt' try again.
Another moved to a different province, and no effort was made on either of our parts to stay in any real kind of touch. This girl has this amazingly sharp wit: Few people made me laugh like she did - and still does, when we interact via, of course, Facebook. I love her still. But we're not truly in one another's lives any longer.
Another became a stay-at-home Mom, and made all sorts of new stay-at-home-Mom friends, who just had more in common in terms of lifestyle, interpretation of faith, and children's personality (even though our girls are only a week apart, they never really played very well together). And so she stopped calling and accepting invitations out. And to be honest, I think, when we were still making an effort to connect, I was a little condescending about her beliefs and a little boring to be with, too. We just lost all things in common, perhaps.
Another is in the process of fading, well on its way to oblivion, in fact. I can feel it coming; phone calls and text messages aren't returned for weeks, plans are frequently broken, and our conversations are stilted and forced. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. Sometimes, I'll try to remember a time I might have offended her or disappointed her or hurt her feelings. But in reality, I think it's just the busyness of our lives and the fact that, when life is so busy, time can only be stretched so far. And some people just don't make the cut. And in this case, it's me. And it's disappointing and sad - but not entirely unfair. I mean, we were friends as kids, and maybe it just isn't translating so well into adulthood.
When people matter to you, no matter how busy life is, you simply make the time. That's just the way it is. I know. In the close friendships that I am blessed to still have, we are all so busy we can barely breathe: but somehow, we still connect. Whether it's going out for dinner once a month, catching a movie once in a blue moon, or hanging out twice a year, we stay connected through sheer force of will. We text or call, we Facebook Message or Email. We make an effort to at least personally communicate, even when we can't physically find the time to be together.
The older I get, the more people I seem to lose through neglect, or polite distance, or hurts unspoken. And I wonder if I should fight the loss more: Do I double my efforts to hold on to the fading friendships, or do I accept the fact that we only have so much time to go around, and to spend this precious time on people who we no longer really know is not a worthwhile endeavour at all?
I don't know. But this I do know: I know I'm thankful for my current friends and I hope every day that they know how much they mean to me. I am also thankful for the friends that I have lost: thankful for what we meant to each other once, thankful for the memories I have because of them.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Ms. Alyssa, Novelist
November was National Novel Writing Month and, as a high school English Teacher, I agreed to take on the challenge - and I succeeded. 50 000 words later, NaNoWriMo is done at last. It was done, in fact, 2 weeks ago. I am, however, still recovering.
It turns out writing a novel is no small feat. It feels great to have finished it, but I'm so behind in all other areas of my life, I'm not quite sure it was a wise decision to embark on the task. On the plus, it modeled a dedication to my craft to my students, and encouraged two grade 9 students to work together to write their own - and you should see how proud they are of their accomplishment. I also really like my piece, although it's rough, at best.
Of course, in order to get this done, I neglected my friends, family, schoolwork, blogging, and self for the large part of November - and I'm still paying for it now. My stack of marking makes me want to cry, I've been logging major husband time of late, and I count myself among some of the worst friends. I also still somehow have Christmas shopping to do!! But, as the new year approaches, I'm happy to have a list of new resolutions I can make - like keep up on marking, for instance. And don't write any more books.
Anyway, I'm off to tuck my little girl in for her nap and tackle some essays on To Kill a Mockingbird, followed by a class set of tests, and then a different set of essays on the Screwtape Letters. And to remind myself that, of course, it was all worth it. After all, I'm a novelist now, right?
It turns out writing a novel is no small feat. It feels great to have finished it, but I'm so behind in all other areas of my life, I'm not quite sure it was a wise decision to embark on the task. On the plus, it modeled a dedication to my craft to my students, and encouraged two grade 9 students to work together to write their own - and you should see how proud they are of their accomplishment. I also really like my piece, although it's rough, at best.
Of course, in order to get this done, I neglected my friends, family, schoolwork, blogging, and self for the large part of November - and I'm still paying for it now. My stack of marking makes me want to cry, I've been logging major husband time of late, and I count myself among some of the worst friends. I also still somehow have Christmas shopping to do!! But, as the new year approaches, I'm happy to have a list of new resolutions I can make - like keep up on marking, for instance. And don't write any more books.
Anyway, I'm off to tuck my little girl in for her nap and tackle some essays on To Kill a Mockingbird, followed by a class set of tests, and then a different set of essays on the Screwtape Letters. And to remind myself that, of course, it was all worth it. After all, I'm a novelist now, right?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
On being a double-working Mom
It makes me feel sad when I hear well-meaning but largely uninformed people make sweeping generalizations and broad statements about how daycare kids are neglected by their parents, or unable to bond to their Mothers, or robbed of the necessary love and attention needed to for a beneficial start to life. I marvel at the confidence with which some people assert that Mothers who work outside the home are willfully sacrificing the well being of their little ones for the personal satisfaction that comes from pursuing a career. And I'm surprised with how many times my stay-at-home-friends will tell me that "so-and-so" obviously doesn't really care about their family, because look how they just "shove their kids into a daycare."
The cries of "unfit!" and "selfish" are easily heard above the quiet, exceedingly busy, unrelenting sacrifice we who work outside the home are making on a daily basis in order to provide our children with the best life we possibly can, as we follow our own convictions that it takes a metaphorical village to raise a child and that when we enlist of the help of well-trained, caring, kind professionals to help us with the childcare, we are acting in what we truly believe is the best interest in our children.
We who work outside the home do the same tasks as those stay-at-homes who so easily claim the title of "working mom" for themselves, because indeed, all moms are working. We cook for our families, clean our homes, do our laundry, grocery shop, buy and mend clothes - we just do it all in addition to the job we hold outside the home.
We also, by the way, read to our children. We engage in countless conversations with them, both lighthearted and meaningful. We drive them to swimming lessons, dance, soccer practice, Sunday School. We teach them about God, pray with them, hug them, kiss them, play with them, laugh with them, and demonstrate that we love them - just as thoroughly as the stay-at-homes.
While we who work outside the home are working at an additional job, many hardworking stay-at-homes are also working - cleaning, shopping, cooking, mending. They are not always pouring into the lives of their little ones as some people would have you believe - they have other work that needs to get done. And I admit, that time is well spent. Many of their homes are cleaner than mine will ever be. They don't run out of milk. Their meals taste better and their cookies are home-baked. They may even get enough sleep at night. But their children are not, let me assure you, better loved than mine. They are not more attended to, not happier, not better taught. In fact, some are less so.
My time in the evenings with my children is precious in a way that some people can't comprehend. I dont' join ladies Bible studies, don't "escape" to retreats, don't go out nightly or even weekly "with the girls". I work all the time; while I'm outside the home, entrusting the care of my precious little ones to the capable hands of others, and while I'm home with them, blessed with the opportunity to pour love and attention into their lives. While I am part of a community group, and I sometimes go out on a date with my husband or make an effort to try and see my own friends every once and a while, I don't take "time", need a "break" enjoy "getting away". I miss my children every second while I'm at work or out, but glad they are getting the love and affection they are from those I have chosen to care for them, and when I am home, I am doing all the Mothering in the world. The other stuff - the cooking, the cleaning, the shopping - it gets done, eventually. While the kids are in bed, or on the weekends with the kids along. But it's not a priority, and I don't mind having a messy house in exchange for a full life.
When I really think about the blind accusations and incorrect assumptions made about double-working Moms, to be honest, I think I can sometimes even get a little resentful. My Mom worked outside of the home my entire life. And let me assure you, I am as "well-developed", "well-loved", "self-confident" as any of my home-stayed peers and friends. I'd challenge any of them to show me how their Mother did a better job of raising them than mine did. My mother is my role model and my friend - and she has always been.
I respect and admire stay-at-home Mothers. They've followed their convictions. But I think it's funny how people assume that staying at home is the greater sacrifice. Let me tell you, it is not. It is difficult to trust the care of our children to another, difficult to work out of the home AND at the home (as we double-working mothers do), difficult to ignore the the silly statements insisting that I should join this club or that in order to "take a break". Difficult also to hear stay-at-homes make the statement "oh, you have holiday time? Must be nice to get all that time off!" - when in reality, the time I'm taking "off" is exactly what they do every day (not time off at all - simply time at home).
I love what I do. I love my job, my students, my work. But I love my children even more, which is why I do what I do. It's your right to disagree, but you'd be wrong. And that's that. :)
The cries of "unfit!" and "selfish" are easily heard above the quiet, exceedingly busy, unrelenting sacrifice we who work outside the home are making on a daily basis in order to provide our children with the best life we possibly can, as we follow our own convictions that it takes a metaphorical village to raise a child and that when we enlist of the help of well-trained, caring, kind professionals to help us with the childcare, we are acting in what we truly believe is the best interest in our children.
We who work outside the home do the same tasks as those stay-at-homes who so easily claim the title of "working mom" for themselves, because indeed, all moms are working. We cook for our families, clean our homes, do our laundry, grocery shop, buy and mend clothes - we just do it all in addition to the job we hold outside the home.
We also, by the way, read to our children. We engage in countless conversations with them, both lighthearted and meaningful. We drive them to swimming lessons, dance, soccer practice, Sunday School. We teach them about God, pray with them, hug them, kiss them, play with them, laugh with them, and demonstrate that we love them - just as thoroughly as the stay-at-homes.
While we who work outside the home are working at an additional job, many hardworking stay-at-homes are also working - cleaning, shopping, cooking, mending. They are not always pouring into the lives of their little ones as some people would have you believe - they have other work that needs to get done. And I admit, that time is well spent. Many of their homes are cleaner than mine will ever be. They don't run out of milk. Their meals taste better and their cookies are home-baked. They may even get enough sleep at night. But their children are not, let me assure you, better loved than mine. They are not more attended to, not happier, not better taught. In fact, some are less so.
My time in the evenings with my children is precious in a way that some people can't comprehend. I dont' join ladies Bible studies, don't "escape" to retreats, don't go out nightly or even weekly "with the girls". I work all the time; while I'm outside the home, entrusting the care of my precious little ones to the capable hands of others, and while I'm home with them, blessed with the opportunity to pour love and attention into their lives. While I am part of a community group, and I sometimes go out on a date with my husband or make an effort to try and see my own friends every once and a while, I don't take "time", need a "break" enjoy "getting away". I miss my children every second while I'm at work or out, but glad they are getting the love and affection they are from those I have chosen to care for them, and when I am home, I am doing all the Mothering in the world. The other stuff - the cooking, the cleaning, the shopping - it gets done, eventually. While the kids are in bed, or on the weekends with the kids along. But it's not a priority, and I don't mind having a messy house in exchange for a full life.
When I really think about the blind accusations and incorrect assumptions made about double-working Moms, to be honest, I think I can sometimes even get a little resentful. My Mom worked outside of the home my entire life. And let me assure you, I am as "well-developed", "well-loved", "self-confident" as any of my home-stayed peers and friends. I'd challenge any of them to show me how their Mother did a better job of raising them than mine did. My mother is my role model and my friend - and she has always been.
I respect and admire stay-at-home Mothers. They've followed their convictions. But I think it's funny how people assume that staying at home is the greater sacrifice. Let me tell you, it is not. It is difficult to trust the care of our children to another, difficult to work out of the home AND at the home (as we double-working mothers do), difficult to ignore the the silly statements insisting that I should join this club or that in order to "take a break". Difficult also to hear stay-at-homes make the statement "oh, you have holiday time? Must be nice to get all that time off!" - when in reality, the time I'm taking "off" is exactly what they do every day (not time off at all - simply time at home).
I love what I do. I love my job, my students, my work. But I love my children even more, which is why I do what I do. It's your right to disagree, but you'd be wrong. And that's that. :)
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Stop! NaNoWriMo Time
So, if you haven't noticed by now, I've been neglecting this blog. I haven't been forgetful, nor run out of things to say. But, it's November.
I know for most of you, November is Mo-vember, or mustache month. But it ALSO happens to be NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. It's a 30 day challenge to write a 50 000 word novel. The focus is on quantity rather than quality; an exercise intended to encourage writers to take risks, to experiment freely, and to simply WRITE, without getting bogged down with careful planning or meticulous self-reflection. The more writing, the better. As an English teacher, I challenged my students to try it out. As so I took the challenge myself.
I'm on 14 717. I hope to reach fifteen thousand words tonight. I'm on track though. It's a super fun activity, and I both HATE my story (so cliche!) and LOVE it (sooo fun to write!)
So, that's where I've been, and will mostly be for the remainder of November. I'm also, of course, trying to catch up on my marking in time for midterm reports, which need to be in my Wednesday!
Oh, and it's now snow-covered here. It really IS beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. And I LOVE it!
I know for most of you, November is Mo-vember, or mustache month. But it ALSO happens to be NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. It's a 30 day challenge to write a 50 000 word novel. The focus is on quantity rather than quality; an exercise intended to encourage writers to take risks, to experiment freely, and to simply WRITE, without getting bogged down with careful planning or meticulous self-reflection. The more writing, the better. As an English teacher, I challenged my students to try it out. As so I took the challenge myself.
I'm on 14 717. I hope to reach fifteen thousand words tonight. I'm on track though. It's a super fun activity, and I both HATE my story (so cliche!) and LOVE it (sooo fun to write!)
So, that's where I've been, and will mostly be for the remainder of November. I'm also, of course, trying to catch up on my marking in time for midterm reports, which need to be in my Wednesday!
Oh, and it's now snow-covered here. It really IS beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. And I LOVE it!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Ugg. And YAY!
Yup, one of the worst and best things about teaching ELA here in… well, in the province I teach in… is choosing my material. We have a list of “recommended texts” for each grade (or, in some cases, grade range, which means some students study the same book in grade 10, 11, and 12!) but really, we’re more or less free to choose the texts we want to accomplish our many governmentally required course objectives.
It’s great, in that if I don’t like a particular text, I’m not stuck trying to generate enough enthusiasm to effectively spend a month on the drivel, nor work on keeping my lips from sneering every time I say the author’s name. It’s also great if we’re trying to organize units thematically – we can choose a text that fits a particular theme. Nice, too, because it’s fun to change things up as a teacher, and also choose a text that fits a certain group of students.
It’s great, in that if I don’t like a particular text, I’m not stuck trying to generate enough enthusiasm to effectively spend a month on the drivel, nor work on keeping my lips from sneering every time I say the author’s name. It’s also great if we’re trying to organize units thematically – we can choose a text that fits a particular theme. Nice, too, because it’s fun to change things up as a teacher, and also choose a text that fits a certain group of students.
It’s hard, though, because so many literary texts are so very depressing, and while I think tragedy is an extremely valuable writing form, often rich in meaning and lasting impressions, it can also be a drag to read piece after piece of sad, dark, “true-to-life-especially-if-you’ve-had-a-very-bad-life” literature.
I don’t want my students to ONLY be learning lessons from unhappy characters, or seeing how their poor choices resulted in their unhappy lives (so we can make better choices, of course). I mean, some of that is fine. But piece after piece of that kind of writing makes teaching ELA so – I don’t know, exactly – unhappy, maybe.
The Pigman, for instance (a great piece of writing taught in grade 9, which really does teach a number of valuable things and tends to engage the readers), makes the statement at the end of the novel when, (spoiler alert!) this old man dies due to the actions, mostly, of these two well-meaning but messed up young teens, “Maybe we were all baboons for that matter – big baffling baboons—smiling away and not really caring what was going on as long as there were enough peanuts bouncing around to think about—the whole pack of us—…baffled baboons concentrating on all the wrong things.” The quote and conclusion is a great lead in to questions like, “how do we concentrate on the wrong things”, and “how can we make our lives really matter/count” – but I wonder, can’t there be a more uplifting and positive way to bring these questions to light? Isn’t there a text out there that can be pleasant to read as well as meaningful?
And, of course, as a Christian teacher of many teens, am I being responsible about the literature I’m choosing? I wonder if God’s going to look at me in the end and say, “Seriously? You made them read THAT?” (or something to that effect). I want to have no regrets about the way I spent my students’ time, about the things I had them take into their minds, about the way I chose to bring up important literary and moral and critical thinking issues. I mean, YES, there is value in texts like the Pigman (to pick on one title, which seems convenient for the moment), but is it the BEST way to get value from the course?
The Pigman, for instance (a great piece of writing taught in grade 9, which really does teach a number of valuable things and tends to engage the readers), makes the statement at the end of the novel when, (spoiler alert!) this old man dies due to the actions, mostly, of these two well-meaning but messed up young teens, “Maybe we were all baboons for that matter – big baffling baboons—smiling away and not really caring what was going on as long as there were enough peanuts bouncing around to think about—the whole pack of us—…baffled baboons concentrating on all the wrong things.” The quote and conclusion is a great lead in to questions like, “how do we concentrate on the wrong things”, and “how can we make our lives really matter/count” – but I wonder, can’t there be a more uplifting and positive way to bring these questions to light? Isn’t there a text out there that can be pleasant to read as well as meaningful?
And, of course, as a Christian teacher of many teens, am I being responsible about the literature I’m choosing? I wonder if God’s going to look at me in the end and say, “Seriously? You made them read THAT?” (or something to that effect). I want to have no regrets about the way I spent my students’ time, about the things I had them take into their minds, about the way I chose to bring up important literary and moral and critical thinking issues. I mean, YES, there is value in texts like the Pigman (to pick on one title, which seems convenient for the moment), but is it the BEST way to get value from the course?
Anyway, that’s just my current frustration. I’m not sure I have an answer. I just keep looking for that text that is extremely well written, meaningful, and uplifting. So far, I just haven’t found it. And not to be pessimistic or anything, but I’m not even sure it exists.
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