My daughter turned on the television this weekend and asked me, “What’s Sixteen Candles about?” because that’s what happened to be on. That particular movie’s gotten a lot of hate lately as being out of touch with that whole thing called “consent,” but I wasn’t prepared to start that conversation spontaneously on a Sunday afternoon.
“That’s an old comedy from the 80’s that didn’t age very well, people don’t like it very much anymore,” I said.
“But what’s it *about*?”
“Well, there’s this girl who is having a very tough day because her parents are so off in their own world doing their own thing that they forget her sixteenth birthday.”
“That’s not good.”
“Exactly. And of course she’s in love with the most handsome guy in school, but he doesn’t care, because he’s dating the most popular girl in school. Meanwhile, the nerd of the school is totally in love with her and following her around all over the place.”
“Oh!” she said, “Like Midsummer Night’s Dream!”
“…” I replied. “Not really like Midsummer Night’s Dream, no. But I’m probably going to get a blog post out of the fact that you said that.”
“Is it weird that the first thing I thought of was Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
“I love that that’s the first thing you thought of. That makes me very happy.”
The more I think about it I’m guessing she put Molly Ringwald into the Helena role? Wants the one guy, but he’s got no interest because he’s already got a girlfriend, meanwhile this other creep is stalking her? It’s not a bad match. I just never put Lysander and Demetrius into the “jock” and “nerd” categories before. I love that my kids see Shakespeare even in places where I don’t.
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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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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.
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.”