Teachers, How Do You Feel About Your Hermiones?

No, that’s not a Winter’s Tale reference. That’s a Harry Potter reference.  Psych.  🙂

So once again my oldest has an actual Shakespeare class, and once again it’s not really living up to what we’d hoped.

They’ve started The Tempest.  Here’s my daughter’s (roughly paraphrased) summary of the first day:

We did Act One, Scene one.  It’s frustrating, because she asked us no questions. Zero. I’m sitting there, waiting for this, I know the answers. I’m dying to say Sycorax, I love that name. But she didn’t interact with us, she just told us what happens.

That makes me sad. I once wrote an entire blog post about that scene, and how awesome the boatswain is. So let’s talk about the situation this teacher finds herself in.

I’m sure that teacher has to assume that there’s zero amount of Shakespeare knowledge in that class. It would be a waste of time for her in most classes to ask a question like, “Is anybody familiar with The Tempest?” because 9 times out of 10 she’s going to get blank stares and silence. So why bother?

Because in this instance she would have gotten an answer.  My daughter’s  hand would go up.  As it would with every question (hence the Hermione reference). She could assistant teach that class.

She’s not trying to be a teacher’s pet. On the contrary, she’s generally an introvert who will avoid answering questions because she feels that for her to answer it is to not give others a chance.  But to not even have the question asked?  That seems like an opportunity missed. It would not be a lie to say that she’s been waiting years for opportunities like that.

Maybe the teacher knows that. She’s well aware of my daughter’s experience with Shakespeare already. I know because I’ve also had that conversation with her. So I figure one of two things must be going through her head:

a) she’s completely forgotten, or just generally disregarded, the knowledge that she’s actually got someone in class this time that knows the material. She’s got a plan, it does not assume a Hermione in the class, why change the plan?

b) she’s deliberately not singling her out to keep balance in the classroom, and not elevate my daughter into some sort of favorite.  Maybe she’s even doing that for what she believes will be my daughter’s benefit, so that the others don’t see it as a negative (i.e. teacher’s pet syndrome)

My problem is that I see it as the opposite. Let’s pretend for a moment that there’s more than one kid in that class that already knows the material. Or at least would be willing to hazard a guess at some questions. And all of them are afraid to be the first one to raise their hand.  Doesn’t it make sense that if you know you’ve got a student who isn’t afraid to raise her hand, and knows the answer, that you should do that?  That maybe it would help bring the other kids out of their shells?  Maybe there’s kids in that class that would hear my daughter rave about how awesome Shakespeare is, how she’s known about it since she was little, and maybe they switch from “I’ve always heard that this stuff is boring and irrelevant” to “One of my peers is telling me that it’s interesting and not that hard, maybe I should listen to her.”

Teachers, help me out here. I’m trying to read somebody’s mind, and maybe I’m way off.  It doesn’t matter the particular material.  Say that you’re in the out of the ordinary situation where you know you’ve got at least one student in the class that knows the material ahead of the rest.  How do you handle that? Take advantage and try to use that kid to draw out the others? Or treat everybody the same? Why?

(In fairness I should acknowledge that there’s an option (c), namely, that this class is about monsters in British literature and thus they are studying Caliban specifically, not the play as a whole. So, since scene one really has nothing to do with Caliban, she glossed over it.  I mean personally I still disagree, because I think that kicking off the story in an exciting way rather than a blah blah blah way is important if you want to keep the kids’ attention, but what can ya do. There are calendar time restrictions, and material to get through.)

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The Simple Pleasures (A Geeklet Story)

Two of my kids are taking PSATs this week.  So, as usual, we’re rushing off to school when one of them says, “Oh, wait, I need a pencil.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “STOP EVERYTHING!” I yell.  “WAIT!”

Everybody freezes.

“Say that again,” I tell her.

“I need a pencil,” she says.

“2b or not 2b?” I ask.  “Come on! How often does that come up organically?????”

My children give me the, “….seriously?” look.  My wife for not the first time that day tries to remind herself why she married me.

Hey, it’s the little things.

It’s Going To Be A Good Year

Longtime readers of the blog will know that we’ve been waiting literally for years for my kids to start learning Shakespeare in school. Middle school was a big bust, with one teacher in the eighth grade who dragged his feet during Romeo and Juliet to the point where my oldest never even finished it, and when her younger sister later had the same teacher, he didn’t even try, he just showed the movie.

My oldest is in high school now and taking a class called Monsters in British Literature, where they’ll be reading The Tempest.  My favorite. The one I used to tell them as a bedtime story.  Plus, bonus? The same teacher does the second semester Shakespeare in Modern Film class, also known as the one where I get Bardfilm to do my kid’s homework.

Well tonight was open house where we got to meet the teachers.  Look what greeted me in Monsters and British Lit?

Oh, yeah.  We’re gonna have a good time with this class.

The class will cover Beowulf and Frankenstein as well as Caliban. The teacher made it a point to mention that she’d recently seen The Tempest at the Globe, and how she just loves being “the Shakespeare teacher.”

I introduced myself briefly – “My daughter’s been raised on Shakespeare. I read The Tempest to them as a bed time story. I think we’re gonna love this class.” I knew I could have talked her ear off.  I had pictures of my kids in the Folger vault loaded up and ready to go on my phone. I showed great discipline, I want everybody to know!

I hope to have very many exciting stories in the upcoming year.  It’s been a long time coming! A fine fine day indeed.

 

 

Right Idea, Wrong King (A Geeklet Story)

I love that my kids are in high school now and I still get to tell Shakespeare geeklet stories.

For some reason the story has come up of when my middle daughter, who is starting her freshman year at private school, went through the interview / application process.  In particular her older sister likes to remind her that when asked what grade she would give the school, she gave a realistic 8 out of 10.

“Obviously,” says my oldest, who is a junior at this school, “You tell them 10 out of 10. That’s what they want to hear.”

“Who are you, King Richard III?” my son asks.

That one gives me pause.  “Love the reference,” I tell him, “But do you want to explain what that has to do with Richard III?”

“Because you just tell them what they want to hear, so you get what you want.  Like the evil daughters.”

“That’s King Lear!” both his sisters reply.

That never gets old.

 

The One Where Shakespeare Geek Is Left Speechless

So we’re out driving with the kids this long weekend. I tell them over my shoulder, “So guys, Amazon made a new original version of King Lear that’s going to be on this month, does anybody think they’d want to watch that with me?”

“Yeah.”   “Sure.”   “Are we allowed to?”

“You’re always allowed to watch Shakespeare with me,” I tell them. “I just didn’t want to force anybody.  King Lear’s a tough one.”

“Is that the one where the king dies, and his daughter hates him?” asks my oldest from the far back seat.

And then this happened.  My son, my youngest, who can’t take his head up and away from his phone and his YouTube videos, says, “No, his daughter loves him the most. But she doesn’t want to just say oh blah blah we love you so much we love you more than anything like the two sisters do because all they want is the land. So the father sends her away but then when he figures out that the other two don’t really love him the other daughter comes back with her army to save him.”

I swear I got teary-eyed.  As soon as he started talking I looked my wife, unable to speak, with what I hope was a, “All my life has built to this moment” look.

When he stopped, and when I could speak, I said, “Nice job, son.  That made daddy very happy.  Well done.”

“But I only know it because you told me.”

“Yes but I think the last time I told you the story of King Lear was like six years ago. I didn’t think you were listening.”