edensgarden's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Red-hot passion, and some paste too. �I�m ready for my close up Mr. Demille.� Where do I start? When we last left our heroine, she was dangling from a cliff 40 feet above reality�oh wait�that�s not right. Friday I was a sight-reading judge at the regional choir auditions. Oh the memories, and let me say, they are not the good memories. Sight-reading is an acquired skill. I didn�t acquire it until almost the end of college, and I�m still horrible at it, despite years of vocal training and violin lessons. I felt so bad for some of these poor kids. For many of them, this was the first time they had tired out for anything, and they had no idea that they were going into to. Some of them didn�t even know what a �chord� was. (It�s the do-re-mi of a song). One girl left crying. She got 3 points out of 40 possible. The only reason she got 3 was that she didn�t sing at all, and there were 3 measures of rests in her part. I would not want to live that part of my life again. So last week I started feeling a �bit under the weather.� I chalk it up to all of the kid germs I�ve been exposed to. So, by Friday night, I really looked like death warmed over. I had big black circles around my eyes. I swear you�d have thought I was in a bar fight. When I came home from judging, I fell into bed. The cold that I had, moved south and settled in my pulmonary cavity. When I woke up in the morning, I felt like my lungs were filled with kindergarten paste. Breathing was a chore to say the least. I was also with out a voice. Not pretty, but on I pressed. At least I know now, that if I fail at teaching I might have a shot in the obscene phone calling business�hehehe Sunday and Monday are vague memories, and now we are at today. Tuesday, and I am halfway done with my 3rd week of teaching, which means I am one-third done with student teaching. Time is flying. We are studying The Great Depression. These kids have no idea of what life was like. I have no idea either, but having lived in a 3rd world country I do have a glimmer of what true poverty and hunger are. My prep hour is 7th. This week the PE classes are using our room for SEX ED. Yes, I sat thru SEX ED today. The guy teaching it was named �Hendrix.� Hendrix prefaced his remarks by saying that he would be using �correct� terms and words in his discussion. Fine, I can handle that, in fact I think that this is the way sex ed should be approached. But then he started talking about �The gift of our Red-Hot passion.� I almost expected him to start talking about �the flowers in our gardens� next. C-O-R-N-Y!! I think today�s 8th graders are mature enough to skip the silly metaphors and be told straight up what the consequences of their sexual choices are. But who am I? Just the adult in the back. Another day in the 8th grade is all� 4:08 p.m. - January 22, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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