The Only One: Pepsi and Morgan Freeman

I show only one movie to my history class.

(Despite conventional wisdom that says history teachers show a movie a week.) (Or daily.) (I like parentheses.)

Sure, I show clips from others.  I show the ten minute "Small House of Uncle Thomas," a Thai-style adaptation in "The King and I" to show the impact of Stowe's tale--plus it is unbelievably beautiful and exposes tragically literal students to another culture's spare, lovely sets and dancing. I show a few clips from "Roots":  Kunta on the slave ship, Chicken George finding one of the slain participants of Nat Turner's failed slave rebellion. I show some short pieces for fun--like JibJab's Founding Fathers Rap and Lin-Manuel Miranda's piece on Alexander Hamilton for President Obama.

Full disclosure:  if I am unexpectedly ill or don't have the time or brain to make lesson plans (as happened once when I got the sad phone call that my Nana had passed away and I was on a plane that day to be with the family), I will have the guest teacher show a stand-by video--either the appropriate volume of "Roots", or "Nightjohn" (soooo goood).

But movies are too long; kids' attention spans are too short; California's history standards are too plentiful; the state history test, inexorable. History movies in particular tend to be too violent, and Hollywood seems to think Americans need to watch other people having sex in every movie.

So: the only movie I show is Edward Zwick's "Glory." It is rated R, but God bless Pepsi--Pepsi issued an edited-for-classroom-use version and distributed them free to schools across the United States. One landed in my hands, because God loves me.

And despite the fact that I have seen this movie an average of five times a year for almost twenty years, I do not tire of it. I still tear up when the soldiers march through Boston for their send off. I still am struck with the weight of the story, the quality of the acting, the cinematography, the moving score.

And despite short attention spans and less and less background knowledge every year (today, S. gasped, "They had newspapers back then!?"), despite the fact that I have to wrestle them into paying full attention for the first day, by the end of the film I believe the kids are better people, deeper people, and Lord help us, better educated people.

(Plus Morgan Freeman's in it, so you know it's chock-full of avuncular goodness.)

It's waaay too much work...

to not go to work....

Today is day two of Lola vs Laryngitis. My brother, a nephew and a cousin all felt funky around Thanksgiving, and being the sharing family that we are, they gave me their funk. First day back from break, though, I began to sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger (not a good sound for me, by the way). It was clear by lunch that I would soon be voiceless.

Now coming off of break, I was ready to launch a multiday project on the Constitution with my history classes and Animal Farm with my English kiddos. Too sick to really be creative, I grabbed Haley's Roots from the

media center. God bless Alex Haley.

OK, that took care of Tuesday.

But by noon on Tuesday it was clear that my AWOL voice wasn't even close to coming home. I am emphatically NOT a movie-showing teacher. Moreover, teaching history in California is like the Bionic Man racing to disarm the bomb attached to the Liberty Bell*: the CST is in May and I can't be stuck in Washington's administration when they are tested on post-Reconstruction. SOOOO today's guest teacher forged ahead and launched the project.

That is, after I spent two hours typing up instructions and going to my classroom to get the model projects ready and the handouts I had already copied ready for Guest Teacher #2.

And now my voice has come back, but it is all pipes and wheezes and kitten-weak. My friend is subbing for me tomorrow and she has my number so that's good. I am under no delusions that B-5 will fall apart when I'm gone. But being gone for three days with three different guest teachers at the end of a grading period is not gonna do wonders for the kids' education, either.

Do I feel guilty? Yes. Is it beyond my control? Yes. There are teachers who are out on a moment's notice--they have a child suddenly sick, or the surf's up. How do they do it?

*couldn't find it online, so here is the epic fight with Bigfoot instead.

Not-So-Super Vision

The auditorium was full of kids deemed "good" by the Powers That Be. They were consequently being "rewarded" with a movie in the auditorium, but since this was close to twenty years ago, the movie was shown on two TVs and our seats were in the back, making it hard to see or hear whatever was showing. I sat in the back with Thao, one of my wonderful students, who ignored the microscopic reward movie and took the opportunity to tell me all about whom she liked, and why, and all the various details that make up ninth grade girl drama.

As she went on nonstop in that inimitable ninth grade girl way, a stranger we presumed to be a substitute strode purposely toward us. "Young ladies, keep it down," he sternly urged. "Sorry, sir," we replied. Thao inhaled, and off she went again, but a bit more sotto voce.

Five minutes later, Stern Substitute came back, brow further furrowed, and he addressed me exclusively: "Young lady, you have done nothing but talk the whole time you've been here. It is time for you to go back to your class." Mind you, I had only said a few words the whole time ("Really?" "Wow." "No, what?"), but I grabbed my sweater and keys and stood. "Where are you going?" asked Thao, shocked that I was obeying Stern Substitute. "To my class," I shrugged, and as I headed out the door, the auditorium was filled with greetings from all the angels quieter than Thao: "Bye Miss M! Where are you going?"

I at 25 had just been mistaken for a 15 year old girl.

Later, SS found me in my class after school, surrounded by students. He apologized beautifully, and then ruined it by saying, " You have to admit, you WERE talking quite a bit!" I just smiled, but have always remembered both his huge error, his humility in seeking me out to apologize, and his persistence in his original mistaken belief. I try to keep this in mind when I am supervising--not that I have sent adults to class, but that maybe what I think I'm seeing isn't as accurate as I believe it to be.

best sub ever?*

It was the last day before vacation
and all through the class
the kids were all quiet, no whispers, no sass,
The sub held them all in the palm of his hand
He was determined they'd all understand
the Kansas-Nebraska Act on this last day
before the kids were released--yes, he'd have his say
And I, the regular teacher, came back for some papers
was happy to see no child cutting capers
And they turned in their chairs, their eyes shining bright
"Miss M!" all broad smiles that were laced with delight
As I gathered my papers and strode out the school
I yelled,"Have a great week!" and thought, "My job is so cool!"

* and he was fine, too!