Guerilla Theatre
Another video.
I’ve seen pictures and video of one of the other events this group did. This one is just awesome in its simplicity and execution. I wish I could join in with some of their events.
A poetic interlude
The seminar class I have this semester is requiring us to write a poem about student teaching. I could have gotten away with a simple Haiku, but that would have felt like cheating. So, instead I wrote a more full-length poem. I’m posting it here because it’s a pretty good one and it’s probably the first actual poem I’ve written in a decade or more. I gave up on poetry as a means to expression a long, long time ago.
Well, here it is:
Ode to Student Teaching
The sleeper awakens
(Grecian Urns can go to hell)
The electronic warble of the alarm wanders
It wanders about the room poking and probing
Probing for an undisturbed ear
Its only purpose in wandering to disturb
‘Neath the homemade quilt from grandma something is spied
Look!
A weak spot! A chink in the quilted armor
An elbow lays bare and uncovered
The warble waddles delicately along the arm
Turning ‘round the other way when the fingers are tipped
The shoulder is crested after finding a purchase in the wrinkled dermis
Peering into the quilted twilight an earlobe is sighted
Now begins the battle across the collar
No ring around here
Though a ring would make travel simpler than just the dermis
One final swing from the earlobe into the canal
The warble swings its pickaxe forged of decibels
The pickaxe shrieks as it arcs through the air
The now warbling shriek slips past the eardrum
It now bores and digs until the brain is found
An arm flashes out from under grandma’s hand-made quilt
Stabbing downwards, the warble is silenced
Bleary eyes rise up to check the time
A grunt, a groan and the sleeper is awakened
This sleeper is not the base of the pillar
He is not the shadow of a mouse on the moon
He is a modern-day apprentice, a servant indentured
Lo! He is a Student Teacher!
The Journey through the Urban Wilderness
(Without Snake Plissken to guide me)
The student is running late
Too many stabs at the snooze
Too long checking e-mail
Too long in the shower
Running to the car
A quick detour to the front porch for the paper
A quick stop at Mc D’s for some tasty breakfast
A quick zip, zig and zag to the school
Entering the Lot
A lot slalom (not Salem’s Lot) begins
Left to miss the oblivious children
Right to miss the oblivious parents
Chunk Ka-Chunk
Chunk Ka-Chunk
Speed bumps go by
Exhaust system is probably gone by now too
The parking lot slalom ends
The final bus passed
The final distracted parent avoided
A snugly-fitting parking spot found
Bleary eyes blink blankly
Still far too early
Students trickle towards the doors
I hope it’s early enough to avoid curious students
The Moat is Crossed
(The castle is stormed)
Hand clenched ‘round my coffee cup
I plunge through the door
Will someone stop me?
Do I look old enough?
Formatia Trans Sicere Educatorum
Visitor’s log is filled in
A secretary hands me a visitor’s badge
Another secretary takes the visitor’s badge back
A visitor’s badge is for visitors and I’m no longer one of those
I’m given a key!
w00t!
That’s right, a key!
Suck it Whigs.
Heading to the classroom
The halls are empty and cavernous
I meet the other house teachers
They smile and offer encouragement
A few last minutes of peace fly away
The Bell shatters the silence
It’s electric warble more insistent than the one earlier
The halls are cavernous no longer
Students mill and stampede simultaneously
Combinations spin, doors open
Books grabbed, make-up and hair checked
Doors close, voices shriek
A line forms outside the classroom
Students peer at a new face
Turning to one another they seek news
Attentions quickly wander and weekends are discussed
The school day follows
Periods begin and end
Seats fill and empty
A day passes in a blur
Blurred days creep on
Slowly names are learned
Personalities encountered
Comfort found
The student teacher starts by watching
Just like the 100 hours of observations
I start with one class and then move to two
Soon my day entire is spent in the front of class
Perhaps I am a teacher
