“…flopping around at the end of the rope.”

November 19, 2008
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They say that the longer you teach at a particular grade level, the more you start to resemble a student at that grade level. In my case, I was already there when I started. Some who know me say that I’m barely out of junior high myself. (My wife pegs me from 13-16, depending…) So it’s easy for me to see how easy it is for my students to drift a bit. And certain things fascinate them, so I should know better than to even open certain doors. But, of course…

Yesterday, we were debriefing after chapter 19, where The Giver makes Jonas watch his “father” release the lighter of the two identical twins. (Aside: I have a set of twins this year – one year I had 3 sets – and they have been great sports about us joking about releasing one of them. In fact, their birthweights are nearly identical to the ones in the book, with the same separation. One of them we now call “Little Guy.”)

They were appalled by what Jonas witnessed. They couldn’t cope.

We talked about China’s one child policy, and how many times only boys were “allowed to be born.” We talked about Hitler. We talked euthanasia and putting your dog to sleep. We talked about how, since 50 babies are born each year, 50 old people would have to be released. We were having a fine conversation.

Then I made the mistake of mentioning that what the little twin got was a “lethal injection” and that was how they put death row inmates to death in most states.

“Don’t they still hang them in some states?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I heard sometimes they don’t die, and they’re flopping around at the end of the rope, and…”

“Thank you, can we get back to our discussion? These people think they are doing the right thing. They want to make sure that they never return to the days when there was hunger and starvation. They think they have to control the population… Yes, ‘Gene’?”

“Does hanging just break your neck, or does it make it so you can’t breathe or what?”

“I believe it would do both. Can we move on?”

“Why’d he stick the needle in the baby’s head?”

“Your veins are close to the surface; you can see many of them. (Lots of flexing and ewwing.) Babies have a layer of baby fat, so their veins aren’t so close to the surface.”

“What happened to the box after the father pushed it through the hole?”

“My guess is there’s an incinerator on the other side.”

Half the class goes “ewww” and the other half asks what an incinerator is. Now everybody has some sharing to do about some relative’s ashes.

“All right, all right, save it for circle time.”

“Yeah! When’s that?”

“We don’t have circle time. Now can we get back to our discussion? Why would people put up with this?”

“Because they don’t know any different.”

“Nice. And… yes Gene?”

“So what if the rope breaks, and you don’t die? Do they just try again?”

“We’re about to find out.”

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Best Faux Pas Ever. (Glad it wasn’t me.)

(Friday Flashback – Last Year) “Mrs. G” has been teaching in our district for over 40 years. She’s been at our school since it opened in 1980. She’s taught English, art, social studies, music, and much more. She is literally an immovable object, and doesn’t need to rise from her chair to strike fear (well, not exactly fear any more, but…) into 8th graders’ hearts. She doesn’t care what people (parents, admins, other teachers) think of her, and speaks her mind whether it’s “appropriate” or not. She currently teaches 8th grade US history, and has been going toe to toe with a particularly pesky student I had last year. Now, this “Steve” sends me e-mails about how the posts he’s reading in the discussion forums on our Moodle don’t have enough thought behind them, and he has a real brain. But he’s a loud-mouthed pain in the rear, whose parents it seems, are wrapped around his finger. I was probably the only teacher he got along with…until Mrs. G. He’s still a pain, and though, like me she recognizes and likes the Steve underneath, she’s not afeared of giving what she gets. So… Food is not allowed in our classooms. [...]

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Mr. Coward has been teaching on the beautiful central coast of California since 1989.

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