I’m officially two weeks into teaching “The Hobbit.”
And it is such a rollercoaster.
Here are just a few of the moments I’ve had this week:
A group of girls being obsessed with how small a hobbit baby must be.
One student drawing me a Gollum for his character poster with a bottle of lotion because “It’ll help with his slimy skin.” Then being mad when I pointed out that, if he was wearing the ring (which he was), that he would be invisible, which resulted in a dramatic sigh and a “So I didn’t have to do anything other than the ring,” which made me laugh.
A student thinking elves and trolls are the same thing and a lengthy discussion on what defines each species.
A SPED student who barely pays attention answering my daily riddle almost immediately after I finished reading it and everyone in the room being super impressed, including his para.
One girl whining because she thinks The Hobbit is boring and me rather bluntly telling her that if she didn’t like this, which is relatively modern and fun with adventure, then the next three years of her English education were going to be rough. She then proceeded to whine and I moved on. A second later, another girl who never talks turned to me and gave me a shy smile and said, “I like it.” And I don’t think she knows how much that meant to me because it’s so hard to hear that something you’ve spent so much time and energy into making fun isn’t being appreciated.
One of the kids I taught during my student teaching burst into my room and yelled, “The Hobbit?!?! Why do the freshmen get to read it?!” So, ya know, even if all my freshmen aren’t thrilled, I’ve got a few jealous upperclassmen.
Some things I’ve absolutely come to love about it:
My “nerdy” kids have an opportunity to really be excited and be appreciated by the class for producing insight and pointing out things that are important later that the other kids didn’t notice.
My artistic kids are finding outlets through some of the projects we’re doing and are generally thriving.
My musical kids are singing (or trying to sing) all the various songs in the play and no one is judging or teasing them for it. Plus, it feels more authentic when the songs are sung.
The kids who have seen the movies are having great discussions about book-to-movie adaptations and are noticing more and more minute things and getting more “deep” with their discussions of why changes were made.
My kids are actively looking for theme and having great group discussions about things like greed and heroism and what it means to be kind.
My students are starting to learn how to annotate and actively think while they’re reading so they notice things.
Overall, it’s so great and I love it and how much I can do with it. It makes teaching English so much fun right now. I love it. This is what teaching is supposed to be like.
sometimes when john tries to wake sherlock up but he pretends to keep sleeping john will like half roll onto him and dramatically sigh and be like “oh NO the love of my life is going to sleep the WHOLE DAY AWAY whatever shall i do” until sherlock starts giggling and johns like “gotcha” and kisses sherlocks cheeks and nose
For all the people who are curious, I actually live in a grand Florentine Palazzo sometime between the 15th and 19th centuries, and I sigh dramatically and consistently as my boring husband attempts to court me and I wait for a letter from the hand of my Spanish lover.
Teddy Lupin sits in a muggle car in muggle London, his godfather (and guardian), Harry Potter, is driving, they’ve just come back from a day at the zoo, Harry likes educating him about the muggle world as much as possible. Draco Malfoy, his cousin and Harry’s husband, is sitting in the front seat grumbling about mean monkeys who tried to pinch his nose.
“It’s not their fault your nose is all pointy” Harry had teased. Draco had sighed dramatically and promised Harry would have the divorce papers on his desk by Monday. Harry had just grinned and pinched his nose again.
“Can we stop by McDonald’s?” Teddy asks, hopeful.
“No. There’s dinner at home.” Both Harry and Draco say.
“I hate this fucking family.” He says indignantly and receives a hiss of “Language, young man!”
(He ends up convincing them of getting him a Bic Mac and large fries after he threatens to change hair colors in front of the next muggle he sees. He’s munching on fries as Draco leans his head on Harry’s shoulder, who’s smiling softly at both of them. All was well).
(1. This is almost a week late and I’m ?? so sorry 2. This went in a much less funny and much more angsty/fluffy direction than I had anticipated I’m so so sorry……and without further ado “bro…that’s so…not cool…” + holsom for @checkplease-insanity !!)
Ransom rubs his eyes and check his phone for the time. 3:47. He sighs loudly, dramatically, even though he knows there’s no one home to appreciate his theatrics. He’s been working on a paper for his molecular biology class and he thinks, with full honesty, that he’s ready to die. He doesn’t care if graduation is a month away, he can feel death at his heels and he feels strangely at ease as he imagines his paper swallow him whole.
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” Ransom jumps as he hears the front door slam and Holster’s voice float up the stairs. “Mom–mom, fuck.” There’s a thud that Ransom recognizes as Holster’s gym bag and then the strangely light patter of his footsteps up the stairs. “You can’t do that!” Ransom watches, frozen, as Holster stalks into the attic, a scowl on his face, cheeks redder than he had ever seen them, with his phone jammed tight against his ear. A moment later, Holster’s eyes slip closed, his eyebrows knitting together. “Fine,” he says quietly, firmly, into his phone and hangs up angrily, throwing it onto his bed. He collapses next to it.