What does one do with a flirtatious, frisky, and fidgety group of 8th grade students?
Well, what would Spielberg do?
He would make a movie, that’s what.
So, the challenge: In three days’ time, form a production company, write a script, cast parts, rehearse, film, edit, and post a one-minute film.
But it can’t be just some advant-gardestaring-at-a-blank-wall-because-I’m-so-darned-full-of ennui-thing. Oh, contraire, Pierre! Zat ees not sineemah! It must have EXPOSITION! CONFLICT! RISING ACTIONS! CLIMAX! And, of course, a serving of resolution and dénouement, YOU! So far, so good. Aside from a few teachers understandably and respectfully requesting the enthusiastic filmmakers quiet their oeuvres,production seemed to run fairly smoothly. From what I can tell, we’re going to run the gamut; everything from re-enactments, documentaries, random dancing, saloon brawls, you name it. It’s going to be grand.
A way for me to keep my sanity, demonstrate plot/theme, and have a quick, engaging mini-lesson: Friday Afternoon Film Festival.
I’ve been finding these great clips off of Vimeo. And although the website is blocked, I can still embed school-appropriate content, like the films you see in my widget sidebar.
Every year my husband and I watch the “Oscars,” the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences award ceremony that honors everyone involved with the best films, actors, directors, and all who create them. It’s like our Superbowl. Don’t make fun of us; we just really like movies.
We haven’t seen as many of the movies as we’d like, and every year, we inevitably say, “Gee, we should really watch more documentaries! That looks like a great way to have your heart ripped out!”
“The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers” Judith Ehrlich and Rick Goldsmith
“Which Way Home” Rebecca Cammisa
Two piqued our interest – “Which Way Home” and “Burma VJ” especially. “Which Way Home” is about Mexican immigrant children who have been separated from their parents and must go on a quest to reunite with their moms and dads. Note the word CHILDREN. “Burma VJ” is about the political unrest in Burma, and that is superlatively the greatest understatement I have ever typed. Others looked interesting and important, of course: “The Cove” is about dolphin slaughter in Japan.
The dolphins won.
The dolphins?!?! Not the orphaned children? Not the man who risked his life to tell an important story? Not the whistle-blowers who are bringing vital information about food to the world? DOLPHINS?!
Now, before you start pouring red paint (or worse) on my fake fur, I am not against animals. I believe that the day that animals are treated as humanely and equitably as humans will be a day of rejoicing, celebration, evolutionary progress, and peace on earth, lion and the lamb, the yin and the yang.
Perhaps this is that “safe bet.” It’s safe to promote the safety of dolphins, intelligent water mammals we have personified into creatures far superior to humans (which may be true) who can’t speak for themselves (true only in terms of we can’t understand them, but they do communicate) and if we decrease the amount of species-ismwe ourselves will raise our collective nobility to the same circle as our cetaceous friends.
Note to students: The reason how dolphins can be drowned is because they are not fish; they are mammals and breath oxygen, and share other mammalian traits.
Note to the Oscars: I’m too busy building background knowledge, explaining the difference between a fish and a dolphin during a teachable moment.
Note to the documentarians: Congratulations. But next time I want the kids to win.
I apologize for my lack of photography skills; my camera does not do a great job on up-close shots.
But this is not a piece of trash.
It is a red dinosaur.
I credit Jada’s inventive, imaginative perspective for spotting it. I, on the other hand, may have dismissed this diminutive sculpture for a piece of candy-wrapper trash. It is, however, really a small dinosaur, specifically a brachiosaurus.
And if you can’t see it, then you better have your imagination checked.
In the Simpsons’ episode, “Lisa Gets An A,”, Homer becomes discouraged by the price per pound of fresh lobster, and seeks to “grow” his own lobster for his consumption. However, he bonds with the lobster, caring, feeding, talking to it, and even taking it for walks.
As I’m watching the episode, it strikes me as odd that Homer would grow to care for his potential dinner so much that he would take it for a walk, but it’s funny nonetheless.
As most things, I didn’t realize really how clever the good writers of the Simpsons were at the time, until….
…I was reading Mary Karr’s novel, Lit.
It’s a definitely a “grown up” book–she battles her long-standing deep emotional scars of her past. Her crazy, butcher-knife wielding mother and wild-cat, alcoholic daddy play key roles, and she must come to terms with her own choices, and try to improve on being a wife and mother, before it’s too late. She’s trying to find the power of prayer right now; and it dawned on me, that if you’re battling demons, you probably need a few angels on your side, in whatever manifestation that takes.
ANYWAY…..(sorry). There is a section where she ALLUDES to the father of surrealism, who, YOU GUESSED IT…used to take his PET LOBSTER FOR WALKS.
I thought I bookmarked that passage in my Kindle, but I didn’t. However, because of the POWER OF THE E-READER, I can do a search for “lobster,” and voila! It was “Apollinaire in Paris, just in from walking his lobster down the street on a leash.”
In fact, three instances of the word “lobster” appear in Karr’s novel: 1. lobster grip, location 2167; 2. lobster down the street, location 3392; 3. we boil lobsters and stuff ourselves with…location 4856.
So, now the reference to Homer being such as Apollinaire in the early 20th century Paris, is even funnier. I get it. And that is the power of allusions – increasing comprehension by increasing and deepening connections.
Now, I am even more curious. Who was the father of surrealism? And who was Apollinaire?
What are typical behaviors in the spring–nervousness, anxiety, an atmosphere of expectation and bedlam, we are experiencing here and now: my 8th grade students act like it’s spring. It’s not. Now, granted we are having one of the warmest winters in years. And everyone is jumping up out of their holes like Whack-A-Moles.
But what is making me grumpy is they are actually resentful and disgruntled when I try to keep the lid on them, using the mallet of my brilliant teaching to hit them over the head and get them to learn, LEARN! WHAM! NOW!
But they are not cooperating.
They are challenging, cantankerous, contrary, edgy, and larcenous. Yes, I have noticed all year they, in general, behave like little magpies and steal whatever they think is “shiny, pretty.” When I opened a drawer and found an empty highlighter packet, with all three highlighters taken and nothing left but the over-produced packaging, I felt more than a “tsk tsk.” I paid for those highlighters, and yet someone felt that the lines between what’s mine and theirs were fuzzy.
I am not happy.
But I don’t want to play martyr either. This is one of those days when I realize that I need to stop and reflect myself. What made me lose my temper? Apparently asking them to work quietly a few times on their final projects (due tomorrow) was not a reasonable request. But they’re not able to tell me what IS a reasonable request. They are only 14 after all. I must put myself in their shoes and figure out what I would consider reasonable. Hmmmm….
The larceny doesn’t stop with my highlighters. (And it’s not just about highlighters; that’s just the latest example.) There was a Red Bull incident. Let’s not go into details. But it’s not good.
And when I tried to explain to a particular demographic of students why drinking highly caffeinated/sugary drinks is not healthy for a young growing human, I get flak.
And I’m tired of flak.
But…deeeeeeeeeep breath…….in…….out……..in……out……let me set my Iced Venti Americano with cream and shots over ice down, and think about this: middle school students are very much like toddlers that can get their own juice. All I can do at this point is try to keep my own blood pressure down.
We have some odd traditions around the world. In the states, we have a large burrowing rodent named Phil who predicts how many more weeks of winter there will be. I wonder if global climate change has thrown him off his game?
Check out the National Geographic link below to find out more:
What does one do with a flirtatious, frisky, and fidgety group of 8th grade students?
