So check out what she had to say about our costumey day on Governor's Island:
http://queuedpaper.wordpress.com/2008/06/09/acting-my-jazz-age/
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Here We Go Gajabbling
When a 7th grader interrupts a lesson to tell you that a word you’ve just used doesn’t exist, your instinct is to disagree.
“No, fantastical is a word. Punk.”
The bigger problem? Well, I make up words all the time. For example: Shaarkvark-noun-a cross between a shark, and an aardvark. Used in a sentence? "Hear about the shaarkvark that attacked a surfer and then hid itself among a group of traveling gypsies? It used its proboscis like a thief in the night." No one ever argues about the existence of the Shaarkvark, so why argue about "fantastical"?
A way for any teacher to discover dozens of new words is to read spelling mistakes out loud when grading papers! These words will sound, to the human ear, like other words that actually exist, but because these words don’t exist there’s an innate hilarity to the ridiculousness of their pronunciation. In one instance, a student of mine attempted the word "gaugeable" but came up with "gajabble," which I quickly took to be some sort of expletive. "Gajabble! I forgot my lunch money at home!" or simply just "Gajabble!" Go ahead and say it out loud. This whole process is a lot more entertaining than it sounds, and, whatever, you just don't know what you're missing.
But back to fantastical. So, at first I was confident in my decision that, yes, fantastical is a word, but then I thought “Gajabble! What if I’m wrong and he’s right and I’m just the stupid drama teacher that makes up stupid words that sound like they should only be used when referring to unicorns or Sasquatch.” The class must have seen this cross my mind. Maybe I looked confused or afraid of being wrong, or I simply hesitated when I gave my answer, because then they collectively used the Jugulator (Jugulator-noun-a form of attack specifically aimed at the jugular of any individual, though most often used towards drama teachers).
Student: “No, Ms. Silvestri, there is no way in hell that fantastical is a word. You just made that up.”
Teacher: “No, I didn’t, and for being so sassy about this whole thing your homework is to look it up.”
Needless to say, he “forgot” about his homework.
I didn’t.
I walked into my next class with three dictionaries and a printout from dictionary.com.
He walked into class, read all of the definitions to the class out loud, and then, again, for being so rude about this whole thing, I told this fantastically-challenged student to write a paragraph for homework using the word fantastical in every sentence.
Here is what he wrote:
“Drama 7 – Ms. Sylvestri – 4/10/08
I am a fantastical person. Yes, fantastical is a word. I found that out from my drama teacher the hard way. I was not in a fantastical mood the day when I said fantastical wasn’t a word. But, I was wrong...fantastical is a word.”
I like that “finding out the hard way” implies simply “using a dictionary.” Also, it always goes without saying that the teacher is always right. Also, kid spelled my name wrong. Gajabble!
If nothing else comes from this venture into language, this drama class will never forget the word fantastical. And they’ll also learn to never challenge anything I say in class again. Ever.
“No, fantastical is a word. Punk.”
The bigger problem? Well, I make up words all the time. For example: Shaarkvark-noun-a cross between a shark, and an aardvark. Used in a sentence? "Hear about the shaarkvark that attacked a surfer and then hid itself among a group of traveling gypsies? It used its proboscis like a thief in the night." No one ever argues about the existence of the Shaarkvark, so why argue about "fantastical"?
A way for any teacher to discover dozens of new words is to read spelling mistakes out loud when grading papers! These words will sound, to the human ear, like other words that actually exist, but because these words don’t exist there’s an innate hilarity to the ridiculousness of their pronunciation. In one instance, a student of mine attempted the word "gaugeable" but came up with "gajabble," which I quickly took to be some sort of expletive. "Gajabble! I forgot my lunch money at home!" or simply just "Gajabble!" Go ahead and say it out loud. This whole process is a lot more entertaining than it sounds, and, whatever, you just don't know what you're missing.
But back to fantastical. So, at first I was confident in my decision that, yes, fantastical is a word, but then I thought “Gajabble! What if I’m wrong and he’s right and I’m just the stupid drama teacher that makes up stupid words that sound like they should only be used when referring to unicorns or Sasquatch.” The class must have seen this cross my mind. Maybe I looked confused or afraid of being wrong, or I simply hesitated when I gave my answer, because then they collectively used the Jugulator (Jugulator-noun-a form of attack specifically aimed at the jugular of any individual, though most often used towards drama teachers).
Student: “No, Ms. Silvestri, there is no way in hell that fantastical is a word. You just made that up.”
Teacher: “No, I didn’t, and for being so sassy about this whole thing your homework is to look it up.”
Needless to say, he “forgot” about his homework.
I didn’t.
I walked into my next class with three dictionaries and a printout from dictionary.com.
He walked into class, read all of the definitions to the class out loud, and then, again, for being so rude about this whole thing, I told this fantastically-challenged student to write a paragraph for homework using the word fantastical in every sentence.
Here is what he wrote:
“Drama 7 – Ms. Sylvestri – 4/10/08
I am a fantastical person. Yes, fantastical is a word. I found that out from my drama teacher the hard way. I was not in a fantastical mood the day when I said fantastical wasn’t a word. But, I was wrong...fantastical is a word.”
I like that “finding out the hard way” implies simply “using a dictionary.” Also, it always goes without saying that the teacher is always right. Also, kid spelled my name wrong. Gajabble!
If nothing else comes from this venture into language, this drama class will never forget the word fantastical. And they’ll also learn to never challenge anything I say in class again. Ever.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sorry I'm Late; I Got Distracted by Your Fridge
It’s not unusual to read out loud when you’re tutoring. A student may find they take notes better from listening. It’s faster for them. They remember it better. Whatever the reason, reading out loud is not an issue.
On Friday morning, however, at maybe 8:30 am, my tutoree approached me with a packet of information for which she couldn’t wait to take notes. She was rushing, worrying about a quiz only 35 minutes away. She also needed to learn different parts of the body in Spanish.
“No Problem,” I said. “There’s plenty of time for both.”
But then I looked at the packet. As my student set up all of her materials to take the most thorough notes ever, I froze at the sight of what I would be expected to read out loud.
Was it childish?
Yes.
Immature?
I sure am.
But can you blame me?
An entire office, full of colleagues and students, was about to listen to me read out loud a very long packet on “The Male Reproductive System” or “The Meat-Whistle.”
At 8:30 am, the office was completely silent. The faint clicks of a keyboard, the almost silent but all-too-vocal adolescent complaints about the strong smell of egg-sandwich; these were all that could distract from the pre-pubescent giggle-inducing words I expected to read out loud, and surely, neither would be as distracting as the words “scrotum” or “testes” at such an obscene hour.
So I started to read, and my student saw me blush. “Keep writing,” I said “if you know what’s good for you’RETHRA.” We had a good laugh. We learned all about the penis. She diligently took notes on balls: what temperature they’re most comfortable in, why they shrink up when they’re cold, and why they hang low when they’re hot. We discussed how semen and urine come from the same place, and how disgusting that is. In the end, it was kind of fun. “Vas Deferens” is even kind of fun to say!
But the best part of everything was on page 4, when the packet encouraged you to check your balls once a month. “As a reminder” the packet suggested, “write a message on an index card to yourself, and keep it in a place where you’ll see it often. The front of your refrigerator works very well. Laminate the card to keep it from wearing out.”
To translate, someone was suggesting to carry around an index card that said, “check your balls.” Laminated, no less, to keep it from wearing out? WEARING OUT? What would you be doing that your index card would NEED to be laminated to keep yourself from ever making a new one? Up until now, the wear and tear of a thorough ball-check-reminder never crossed my mind. I mean, why would it? I don't have balls to check. But now it's ALL I can think about. I'm nonplussed.
Let's face it, if the well-being of your index-card-ball-checking-reminder is your biggest concern, then you have other big concerns you just don’t know about. If you own a machine that laminates things, however, you have an extreme business-advantage in the ball-check industry. Good Work, and good luck.
If you don't own a laminating machine, you have a very awkward experience at the Office Max awaiting you. Good luck, and don't wear a trench coat.
Also, don’t forget kids, HANG IT ON YOUR FRIDGE. It’s not just a reminder for you: it’s a reminder for everyone who ever wants a chilled snack.
I guess what makes it even better is that the packet then suggested that you make one for your dad, too. Imagine this “look what I learned in school today” moment: “Here dad, I made you this card that will remind you to check your balls once a month. You can leave yours on the fridge, with mine!”
Of course, the packet preached abstinence. I don’t know why it bothered. That’s like saying, “look at this new toy that aches to have fun, but don’t use it.” Instead of saying don’t have fun, it would have been smarter for my student read about how to have safe fun. I think the importance of condoms outweighs the necessity of a laminated-ball-reminder, but maybe, just Maybe, that’s the next section I get to read out loud.
On Friday morning, however, at maybe 8:30 am, my tutoree approached me with a packet of information for which she couldn’t wait to take notes. She was rushing, worrying about a quiz only 35 minutes away. She also needed to learn different parts of the body in Spanish.
“No Problem,” I said. “There’s plenty of time for both.”
But then I looked at the packet. As my student set up all of her materials to take the most thorough notes ever, I froze at the sight of what I would be expected to read out loud.
Was it childish?
Yes.
Immature?
I sure am.
But can you blame me?
An entire office, full of colleagues and students, was about to listen to me read out loud a very long packet on “The Male Reproductive System” or “The Meat-Whistle.”
At 8:30 am, the office was completely silent. The faint clicks of a keyboard, the almost silent but all-too-vocal adolescent complaints about the strong smell of egg-sandwich; these were all that could distract from the pre-pubescent giggle-inducing words I expected to read out loud, and surely, neither would be as distracting as the words “scrotum” or “testes” at such an obscene hour.
So I started to read, and my student saw me blush. “Keep writing,” I said “if you know what’s good for you’RETHRA.” We had a good laugh. We learned all about the penis. She diligently took notes on balls: what temperature they’re most comfortable in, why they shrink up when they’re cold, and why they hang low when they’re hot. We discussed how semen and urine come from the same place, and how disgusting that is. In the end, it was kind of fun. “Vas Deferens” is even kind of fun to say!
But the best part of everything was on page 4, when the packet encouraged you to check your balls once a month. “As a reminder” the packet suggested, “write a message on an index card to yourself, and keep it in a place where you’ll see it often. The front of your refrigerator works very well. Laminate the card to keep it from wearing out.”
To translate, someone was suggesting to carry around an index card that said, “check your balls.” Laminated, no less, to keep it from wearing out? WEARING OUT? What would you be doing that your index card would NEED to be laminated to keep yourself from ever making a new one? Up until now, the wear and tear of a thorough ball-check-reminder never crossed my mind. I mean, why would it? I don't have balls to check. But now it's ALL I can think about. I'm nonplussed.
Let's face it, if the well-being of your index-card-ball-checking-reminder is your biggest concern, then you have other big concerns you just don’t know about. If you own a machine that laminates things, however, you have an extreme business-advantage in the ball-check industry. Good Work, and good luck.
If you don't own a laminating machine, you have a very awkward experience at the Office Max awaiting you. Good luck, and don't wear a trench coat.
Also, don’t forget kids, HANG IT ON YOUR FRIDGE. It’s not just a reminder for you: it’s a reminder for everyone who ever wants a chilled snack.
I guess what makes it even better is that the packet then suggested that you make one for your dad, too. Imagine this “look what I learned in school today” moment: “Here dad, I made you this card that will remind you to check your balls once a month. You can leave yours on the fridge, with mine!”
Of course, the packet preached abstinence. I don’t know why it bothered. That’s like saying, “look at this new toy that aches to have fun, but don’t use it.” Instead of saying don’t have fun, it would have been smarter for my student read about how to have safe fun. I think the importance of condoms outweighs the necessity of a laminated-ball-reminder, but maybe, just Maybe, that’s the next section I get to read out loud.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
There's No Hope With Dope
All my successes in life are owed to the cast of Saved By the Bell and the president of NBC.
Learn a Lesson Right Now
Learn a Lesson Right Now
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
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