In Exile.

In lieu of flu-ridden Whitley Co. High School, my adventures in student teaching took me to Williamsburg Independent, a school about 1/5 WCHS' size. Although the school was new to me, familiar faces were nearby -- a old friend from church doing her student teaching, and newer friend who has been teaching English there for a few years. Speaking of friends from church, for a congregation of around 120 (during our school-year influx of college kids), we have a uncommon ratio of teachers to non-teachers. Off hand, I can think of at least 11 who are full time teachers as well several other students pursuing education degrees.

Back to my day at Williamsburg. The differences between the two schools are stark -- size, demeanor, classroom dynamic, instructional styles. For example, WCHS tends to be a rather lively place (for better or for worse), but at Williamsburg, "a fly's foot-fall could be distinctly heard" (to quote Gilbert and Sullivan, my favorite writers of Victorian light opera). Seriously. With few exceptions, the students where not all that distinguishable from mice. Of course, I have only been there for one day. Tomorrow may be entirely different. And I will be there tomorrow since WCHS is out until Thursday (and there are rumors of further cancellations).

That said, I had an interesting experience in one of the classes I observed today. In Mr. H's 4th period class, he began class with a journal entry titled Something that makes me angry is... and 100 words to support the topic sentence. Students, for the most part, took the opportunity to rant about various causes of teenage angst: gossip, miniature feuds, etc. It wasn't all that different from what I have always imagined Avril Lavigne's songwriting method to be.

Two of the students expressed that they have problems with authority. And of those commented that she would respect someone until that person respected her first. I felt bad for her. I don't know if it is possible to arrive at such a cynical position without having been hurt or neglected in a variety of ways over the course of many years. Of course, the position is inherently self-defeating in that imposes upon the rest of the world a standard that somehow does not apply to oneself. But if I had so foolish as to point out the basic contradiction, I would have done little except cause an uproar.

Interestingly, later in the class, the same student commented on the fact that I was writing throughout much of the period, so I told her I was taking notes for my class -- and she expressed great empathy and regret. But I let her know that I actually enjoy writing, so taking notes wasn't a big deal for me. Suddenly, this student who minutes earlier had been railing against the concept of mutual respect between human beings perked up and asked a rapid succession of questions: Do you write poetry? Do you write stories? Do you write lullabies?

Luckily, I was able to give her a "yes" or two, after which she informed me that I had earned "props" in that class. So, when she says respect, does she really mean something about you is cool? That would rather shallow. Another possibility is that she desires to feel some kind of connection based upon a similarity or admiration of some kind. Maybe she wants attention and doesn't know how else to get it. And that's understandable.