Thursday, March 30, 2006

The Bastardization of Everything I Love

Time: To blog more often
Weather: There's been tornadoes and hail. Not in the metro, but around. The sky's yellow.
Mood: Bored. Wide Awake.

Number Dead: None to speak of.
Bullets Remaining: 98

I know. It's getting to be longer and longer in between posts. I don't quite know what to blog about this month. This is what's been naggin' me. As you well may have already predicted, I decided to teach not because of the lucrative money making opportunities, but rather because I loved the idea of working on debate for the rest of my life. I refused to get a minor or an alternate endorsement, like English or history, because I only wanted to teach debate. Idealistic. I know. Then college ended. I started grubbing for jobs. I ended up teaching the one subject I never intended to go near: stagecraft. (Those of you not in the know, that's the tech ed. class where we build the sets for the plays and musicals the drama department performs.)

I loved teaching stagecraft. Correction. I still love teaching stagecraft. I used to teach it every single class, but now I only have 1 class of it. I also teach debate now, which is what I wanted to do in the first place. The fufillment of my life's dream (truly, no sarcasm) to have a debate squad and to be coaching.

In preparation for the fufillment of my dream, I got used to, well over a decade ago, taking notes/projects/readings from all possible communication books, arguments, current events, etc. and mentally stored them for safe keeping. Waiting. For the time when it was time for my squad. No surprise there. However, as a result of my stagecraft carrer, I am mentally safekeeping a whole series of thoughts/projects/readings/viewings for all of my classes. It's exhausting.

Let me explain in an even longer winded fashion.

One of the conditions of hiring me was that I would agree to teach film studies at the end of the semester. I WAS PUMPED. Teach film? Hell yeah! Here's what I didn't know about stagecraft when I took that job: how to build a flat, how to change a bit on a drill, what a chuck key was, how to work a table saw, how to cut at an angle, you name it, and I didn't know how to do it. So this film thing, was gonna kick ass because I fo' sho' could stand around and talk about the shit that I was watching in the theatres and renting from the store. Coo'. I could do it.

So I started the mental preparation for my film unit. Every time I stumbled on a nail or drizzled another coat of paint on some kindergarten constructed piece of scenery, I would mentally escape to those weeks when we could move to film. All the films I saw became the topic of scrutiny. This actually wasn't new for me, I am usually pretty critical of the films I saw anyways and I was already one prone to watch the excentric symbolic films anyways, so I was a leg up on this whole project. First time teaching it was okay and I immediatley fell in love with this unit. Then, in an effort to increase accountability and in order to push my students, I started coupling more readings with the viewings so that basically all year round my kids are building, viewing, and reading. The wholistic learning shit, right? Yeah, right.

The problem is now, I can't turn this thing off. Everything I see, read, or ingest flows through this new filter. The teacher filter. Can I teach it? Is it appropriate to show in class? I have been lamenting for 3 days because we have been working on philosophy in debate and I am dying to show I heart Huckabees, but there's not a rat's chance in hell that I could show it to my kids, with the language and all...My mind still won't give up the ghost...It keeps pressing me to view it and show little clips of it...the "appropriate parts" damn it. While in a theatre, viewing a film for the first time, my mind ticks and the wheels grind during the whole film generating this annoying dialogue about how to cram this awesome film into my class. And it's spreading. Now it's books, moments, t.v. shows, if there's something I enjoy, I think of how to stuff it into a learning moment for my kids. Boardgames, internet quizzes, college notes, even the fucking concept of blogging I have shoved into my classroom. Strategically, this is excellent. What's-his-bucket, you know that one education guy, dudie-mc-teaches-alot, he says that kids learn exponentially faster when you can scoffold by attaching learning to what they know and by using the things kids are already interested. Whooptie fucking do. So now I get a gold star for amazing teaching, but what I realized, after discussing the Harry Potter series with my kids is that now I can't undo the "teacher thoughts." I have been working really hard on creating some private things for myself, such as the Shield. I try really hard NOT to talk about that show with my kids, but fundamentally, even though I know I will never show the Shield to my kids, my mind still thinks about the amazing camera angles and cinematography that goes into the show. I know, I know. I should be enjoying this because I am "enjoying" the show at a whole new level. Yeah. No. Don't think so. I miss the blissfully unaware moments of loving a show because it was "good." Or just the ability to be thinking about the plot of the film or the acting in the film rather than how I can teach it later.

Julie/Julia (can't remember which right now) Penelope talks about this type of containment. She talks about the root of patriarchy coming from the anglo thought that I can take what I love and shove it into a little box and claim it as mine. Game Over. Stick the flag in it and call out the name of your motherland, because what you have conquered is now your property. I thought and still think that part of what makes me a pretty okay teacher is the fact that I care enough about my profession to think about it outside of the school day, but I still feel a little sick to my stomach to think that I am shoving a whole series of things I love into my little shoe box profession. Enough verbage, I am annoyed at myself this evening and all of this sounds like whining, but I am just now wishing that I didn't love my job so much so that I could keep my business and private worlds seperate...

3 Comments:

Blogger genderist said...

It's a sign of passion, my dear... and that you're doing what you love.

5:50 AM  
Blogger bad shoe guy said...

I went through a lot of the same issues for a while. Everything I read or saw I tried to turn into a prose or a dramatic interpretation. I was really mad at myself for not being able to simply experience entertainment anymore. When I was in Honduras a while back (the most rockin' trip ever) I was talking to one of the guys responsible for coming up with new cigar blends. He indicated that when going through the sampling phase of the blends, he and the rest of the higher ups would smoke up to 30 cigars a day (for those of you who don't engage in this activity, let me share that it is my experience that hard core cigar smokers may smoke as many as 4 cigars in a day, and that anything over 6 is rare). I asked, "Wouldn't you lose your ability to properly evaluate cigars after a while? Wouldn't the first cigar always be the best?" To which he replied "The right ones tend to stand out. Sometimes it's even more obvious that way." That's how I feel about this process. After a while, the right things to include in your class tend to stand out, and the rest falls into a nice pile of things you can simply enjoy.

9:41 AM  
Blogger Kate Mc said...

I feel your pain. I can rarely turn off my 'historical interpreter' filter.

1:53 AM  

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