Impassioned

Today was an awesome day. The kids were damn near perfect. I was able to joke around and keep things light while they worked (and boy were they really working!) on their projects. I called students up one-by-one to conference and check their progress. At some point during first period I began fist bumping each child as they walked away, saying, "BOOM!" if they had all their materials. This obviously sparked some head-shaking and laughter. 

My honors class requested that I play music while they worked and, deciding that they'd earned it, I obliged and turned on Michael Jackson.

In an attempt to rouse 6th period out of their Friday afternoon stupor, I repeatedly slammed my Nerf basketball into the floor, allowing it to bounce high before catching it in any number of goofy ways while yelling, "Wake up!" Luckily it worked. 

On my drive home, I tried to pinpoint the cause of my good mood. I've been in a slump lately. I've dreaded work. I've been short on patience. My lessons have been flat despite my best efforts to energize the kids. I'm sure some of that is caused by the time of year... but I'm fully aware that a lot of it has been my attitude, my frustration with my own inability to get the kids to produce really good writing. The state writing assessment is sixteen school days from Monday, and I'm afraid they peaked too soon. We're all burned out and I've been at a loss. The real problem has been that I can't seem to explain exactly what I want out of their writing... So for today's lesson I decided to show them. In a desperate attempt to prove that I felt their pain, I decided to show them that we could turn any topic into a detailed narrative. I sat up front with my computer and asked them to choose a random topic. They came up with "Clark's"... a gas station on the corner that serves fried chicken. Ugh.

"Ok!" I said trying to hide my displeasure. "Let's write a narrative. Remember... 'live' verbs and sensory details!" I began typing.

The bell on the door rattled against the glass as I swung it open and slid in to escape the cold. My fingers were numb and I could barely feel my toes, but it was worth the walk down to Clark’s gas station. As I approached the glowing case of chicken, the feeling gradually reentered my limbs and excitement took over. My mouth was watering in anticipation.

My feet glided across the grease-coated tile floor as I licked my lips and glanced at the menu. The lady behind the counter had her hand on her hip as she barked, “What do you want?”

“Chicken...” I said as I pointed. She poked the tongs under the glass, snatched two pieces of savory, spicy chicken tenders and dropped them into the bag. Grease quickly began to seep through the white paper, but that only made me hungrier. 

When I exited through Clark’s glass door again, I barely noticed the cold that had so plagued me a few minutes prior. I was too busy gorging myself with that delectable delicacy.

Now, I know this isn't exactly a fabulous piece of writing... but as the cursor sat there blinking, silence blanketed the room, and my heart raced in nervous anticipation. Then I heard a "Woah..."

"See? We can make anything vivid!"

"No... you type FAST, Miss B!"

The class burst out in laughter...

"On the real though... that was awesome! We can do that!" said another student.

A relieved smile spread across my face. It was like inspiration had plastered itself across the board before their eyes. Light bulbs appeared and pencils furiously scratched across paper. I took a risk and probably broke some rules in terms of "good instruction." But that risk flipped this gloomy February Friday on its head and put all of us in an irreversibly good mood. It gave me a shot in the arm that my coffee cup has been failing to provide as of late, and most importantly, it helped my kids produce some really awesome writing today. Let's just hope it lasts through the weekend.