Monday, May 18, 2009
Joke's on Me
I had this great profound title for a blog entry planned for this morning.
"The Gift of Gross Emotions"
It was going to be so enlightening, and enlightened. How much we hate panic, how much we hate true sadness, heavy emotions, gross not in feeling (though sometimes that too) but in size, quantity, as in "a gross is equal to 144 of something."
What waylaid me? Not even my own gross emotions, which caused anxiety dreams all night, but those of my 13 year old students. The little pricks had a jerk fest all last Thursday and Friday, when I should have been watching them. They found one to pick on and subtly/not so subtly mocked her and her penchance for, imagine this, having her name used correctly. Meanwhile, they have gotten sloppy in their feedback (saying things like "I like this piece a lot," then giving a list of 10 things they think didn't work at all, for instance) and the whole thing snowballed into one very gross mess.
Turns out my class isn't the only place, and certainly not my fault. But I have all kinds of gross emotions about their gross emotions, and it's quite the way to end a term.