Okay--Tuesday was not.a.good.day. Graded a lot, and ya'll read a lot, and the APees answered or not-answered a lot, but I didn't feel a whole lot of interest going on. It's the end of the quarter, and third quarter at that, so thank you to those who cooperated, and a pox upon those of you who skated by.
Gifted English II: Amazing discussion questions on TFA, part I--who is Ikemefuna? Why do we think something ominous could happen? What is ironic about the role of the goddess Agbala? Could you live in this culture? Why or why not?
AP Literature: World class packet on HofD, followed by explanation./deconstruction of the passage from Sense and Sensibility, "Magnolias in Snow," and Dylan Thomas. Hopefully, our books will come in!!!! I am sick of waiting and sicker over having paid for rapid shipping.
All Classes: SPRING BREAK SPEECH.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Dance Marathon Thriller Dance
Wouldn't it be so cool if all of my classes learned how to do this? EA knows how to do the dance (she frequently did it on the Prague trip) and maybe she could offer training or something.
Or maybe we should just do our homework. . .
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Gifted English II: Continue with work on Things Fall Apart by Achebe, with further instruction on memoir writing (due Thursday!) and grammar.
AP Literature and Composition: Since we didn't really do what I had planned to do on Monday (although what we did was all kinds of awesome, from introducing the text of Heart of Darkness to content vocabulary to analysis of "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden, then we need to work on AP Practice today. Ten points! Some of you could use the boost!
AP Literature and Composition: Since we didn't really do what I had planned to do on Monday (although what we did was all kinds of awesome, from introducing the text of Heart of Darkness to content vocabulary to analysis of "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden, then we need to work on AP Practice today. Ten points! Some of you could use the boost!
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Last week of the third quarter! Thank goodness--this was a roller coaster.
ANNOUNCEMENT: Ms. McMillen already sent out a ConnectEd call about this issue, but I want to reinforce the info: Tomorrow night in our auditorium at 6:30 is special guest Rene Napier, discussing the importance of not drinking and driving. Spring Break is right around the corner, and while many of you are responsible and do not take such risk, you'd be amazed at how many otherwise good-hearted people have made terrible choices and then pay for those choices for the rest of their lives--or with their lives. Consider attending, and share with your parents.
Gifted English II: Per the e-mail I sent last week, we are going to the Media Center at the start of the period to check out Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. If you already have your own for annotating purposes, you do not need to check out an additional copy. When we return to class, I need to discuss a few things with you--notably, where Achebe found his title, and also reviewing a few things about memoir and the craft of writing. GRADED WORK IS IN THE BOX.
AP Literature: If you did not take the Romanticism Unit Test on Friday, nor the make-up session on Saturday, then you are going to need to schedule make-up time ASAP. We have a busy schedule this week, so you will need to A) come before school, B) come during lunch, which may prove difficult since the test is 100 questions long, or C) come during one of your VCC off-periods on Tuesday. This needs to be done quickly, as grades are due Thursday. GRADED WORK IS IN THE BOX. K12 Planet should be completely updated by tomorrow afternoon (it takes a few hours to upload) so if you need make-up work see me as soon as you can.
Today in class--"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Haydn and two short multiple-choice passages. Heart of Darkness was delayed in shipment, but UPS assures me it will be here by tomorrow for all of you who ordered a 2.00 copy. We will begin prepping for that book in class tomorrow.
ANNOUNCEMENT: Ms. McMillen already sent out a ConnectEd call about this issue, but I want to reinforce the info: Tomorrow night in our auditorium at 6:30 is special guest Rene Napier, discussing the importance of not drinking and driving. Spring Break is right around the corner, and while many of you are responsible and do not take such risk, you'd be amazed at how many otherwise good-hearted people have made terrible choices and then pay for those choices for the rest of their lives--or with their lives. Consider attending, and share with your parents.
Gifted English II: Per the e-mail I sent last week, we are going to the Media Center at the start of the period to check out Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. If you already have your own for annotating purposes, you do not need to check out an additional copy. When we return to class, I need to discuss a few things with you--notably, where Achebe found his title, and also reviewing a few things about memoir and the craft of writing. GRADED WORK IS IN THE BOX.
AP Literature: If you did not take the Romanticism Unit Test on Friday, nor the make-up session on Saturday, then you are going to need to schedule make-up time ASAP. We have a busy schedule this week, so you will need to A) come before school, B) come during lunch, which may prove difficult since the test is 100 questions long, or C) come during one of your VCC off-periods on Tuesday. This needs to be done quickly, as grades are due Thursday. GRADED WORK IS IN THE BOX. K12 Planet should be completely updated by tomorrow afternoon (it takes a few hours to upload) so if you need make-up work see me as soon as you can.
Today in class--"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Haydn and two short multiple-choice passages. Heart of Darkness was delayed in shipment, but UPS assures me it will be here by tomorrow for all of you who ordered a 2.00 copy. We will begin prepping for that book in class tomorrow.
Friday, March 20, 2009
and while we're at it. . .
Many of you have already seen this, as it has made the rounds of the "internets" for some time. Most claim that it came from English students in high school, but apparently The Washington Post had a contest in 1999 seeking bad analogies, and these came up. Feel free to pass it on; it's great for a chuckle. And don't abuse similes and metaphors--they are your friends!
BAD ANALOGIES
BAD ANALOGIES
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30. (Note from Ms. Hilley--I don't like this one! Jeopardy; argh!)
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Call for Writers
In class, we discussed the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, in which contributors craft one sentence for a novel that doesn't exist in order to honor the Victorian "novelist" Edgar Bulwer-Lytton, of "it was a dark and stormy night" fame. Some of you have already risen to the challenge.
Seeking inspiration? Here's the site: http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
And here are some of my current favorites. Congrats, btw, to Tony, Brody, and Brendon, for coming up with some fantastically disturbing and amusing entries.
Seeking inspiration? Here's the site: http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
And here are some of my current favorites. Congrats, btw, to Tony, Brody, and Brendon, for coming up with some fantastically disturbing and amusing entries.
The camel died quite suddenly on the second day, and Selena fretted sulkily and, buffing her already impeccable nails--not for the first time since the journey began--pondered snidely if this would dissolve into a vignette of minor inconveniences like all the other holidays spent with Basil.
--Gail Cain, San Francisco, California (1983 Winner)
The lovely woman-child Kaa was mercilessly chained to the cruel post of the warrior-chief Beast, with his barbarous tribe now stacking wood at her nubile feet, when the strong, clear voice of the poetic and heroic Handsomas roared, "Flick your Bic, crisp that chick, and you'll feel my steel through your last meal."
--Steven Garman, Pensacola, Florida (1984 Winner)
The countdown had stalled at T minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick, rubbery lips unmistakably--the first of many such advances during what would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my career.
--Martha Simpson, Glastonbury, Connecticut (1985 Winner)
The bone-chilling scream split the warm summer night in two, the first half being before the scream when it was fairly balmy and calm and pleasant for those who hadn't heard the scream at all, but not calm or balmy or even very nice for those who did hear the scream, discounting the little period of time during the actual scream itself when your ears might have been hearing it but your brain wasn't reacting yet to let you know.
--Patricia E. Presutti, Lewiston, New York (1986 Winner)
Like an expensive sports car, fine-tuned and well-built, Portia was sleek, shapely, and gorgeous, her red jumpsuit molding her body, which was as warm as the seatcovers in July, her hair as dark as new tires, her eyes flashing like bright hubcaps, and her lips as dewy as the beads of fresh rain on the hood; she was a woman driven--fueled by a single accelerant--and she needed a man, a man who wouldn't shift from his views, a man to steer her along the right road, a man like Alf Romeo.
--Rachel E. Sheeley, Williamsburg, Indiana (1988 Winner)
Professor Frobisher couldn't believe he had missed seeing it for so long--it was, after all, right there under his nose--but in all his years of research into the intricate and mysterious ways of the universe, he had never noticed that the freckles on his upper lip, just below and to the left of the nostril, partially hidden until now by a hairy mole he had just removed a week before, exactly matched the pattern of the stars in the Pleides, down to the angry red zit that had just popped up where he and his colleagues had only today discovered an exploding nova.
--Ray C. Gainey, Indianapolis, Indiana (1989 Winner)
Dolores breezed along the surface of her life like a flat stone forever skipping across smooth water, rippling reality sporadically but oblivious to it consistently, until she finally lost momentum, sank, due to an overdose of fluoride as a child which caused her to lie forever on the floor of her life as useless as an appendix and as lonely as a five-hundred-pound barbell in a steroid-free fitness center.
--Linda Vernon, Newark, California (1990 Winner)
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Gifted English II: Memoir example in class, followed by topic conversation for your next paper. Bring a discerning eye.
APees: Romanticism Unit Test. Bring a pencil.
Notes to All Students:
APees: Romanticism Unit Test. Bring a pencil.
Notes to All Students:
- I will be at the Barnes and Noble on Bumby and Colonial Drive at 1 p.m. on Saturday for anyone who needs to make up the unit test; I know this is unconventional, but A) grades are due next week and B) that way I'm available to shop with any student going with me to Germany next week. If no one shows up by 1:05 for academic reasons, we're shopping right away. Otherwise, I am prepared to hang out until 2ish before we look at travel books and go over packing lists and such.
- I am currently entering grades and scoring focus papers and will try to have everything uploaded by Monday to facilitate the end of the quarter; there is no quarter test, but bear in mind that I cannot process resubmits this late in the quarter. See me if you need to make anything up, and I will have printouts for each of you as soon as possible.
- If you need service hours for NHS, see me IMMEDIATELY.
Budget Concerns
As many of you are now aware,the projected budgetary shortfall for OCPS next year is as much as 240 million. I attended a rally after school today, waving signs at the corner of Mills and Michigan. I've written as many e-mails and letters as I can. Short of crawling into the brains of lawmakers, I don't know what else to do.
To be completely honest: My job next year is safe, although it will probably be more difficult to do it well. (This year has been hard as it is.) I have a contender in this fight, though, because the future of our state is directly related to the generation we are now educating. If I didn't believe in what I did for a living, I would have quit a long time ago. I think you all deserve to have a good education, with cultural opportunities and decent class sizes. Please stay aware of what's going on.
Mr. Godfrey is having his students do a research paper for his econ class about the budget issue. I will be gathering some info for you to use as resources and would be happy to be an interviewee if you need it, but I cannot post that information on this site due to proprietary challenges. If you go to the homepage for Orange County Public Schools, though, you can find the district's perspective on the issue, including the intriguing statistic that lottery monies would only open our schools for one day in OCPS. You can find the link here: www.ocps.net. I will have more detailed information available in my classroom tomorrow for any interested seniors.
To be completely honest: My job next year is safe, although it will probably be more difficult to do it well. (This year has been hard as it is.) I have a contender in this fight, though, because the future of our state is directly related to the generation we are now educating. If I didn't believe in what I did for a living, I would have quit a long time ago. I think you all deserve to have a good education, with cultural opportunities and decent class sizes. Please stay aware of what's going on.
Mr. Godfrey is having his students do a research paper for his econ class about the budget issue. I will be gathering some info for you to use as resources and would be happy to be an interviewee if you need it, but I cannot post that information on this site due to proprietary challenges. If you go to the homepage for Orange County Public Schools, though, you can find the district's perspective on the issue, including the intriguing statistic that lottery monies would only open our schools for one day in OCPS. You can find the link here: www.ocps.net. I will have more detailed information available in my classroom tomorrow for any interested seniors.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Unrelated to academia, but on my mind: The actor Natasha Richardson passed away this afternoon, after a "minor" ski accident. So sad, and I will never see Love, Actually the same way again--Richardson's husband, Liam Neeson, opens that film playing a grieving widower with such force and conviction that it is almost unbearable to watch. Many sad things have happened in our world of late--many sad things today, as a matter of fact--but for some reason, perhaps due to her role in The Parent Trap, my niece's all-time favorite film, this felt more piquant than everything else. R.I. P.
Gifted English II: More with memoir today. Think about this:
APees: Jane Eyre and language; applying AP FRQs to the novel. Final review Q&A for tomorrow's test. BRING A PENCIL TOMORROW.
In other news: I will be participating in a protest after school today in front of Rep. Andy Gardiner's office, to call attention to the 240 million dollar projected (if not exaggerate) shortfall for the upcoming school year. Feel free to stop by. This affects your future, and far be it for me to be political (insert maniacal laughter here) I think we all need to be involved. This stinks for education, and even though the general economy is feeling the pinch horribly right now, education literally cannot take one more hit.
In other, other news: I am experimenting with Twitter and like it. More info pending!
Gifted English II: More with memoir today. Think about this:
Do memoirs tell the truth?
According to J. A. Cuddon, "An autobiography may be largely fictional. Few can recall clear details of their early life and are therefore dependent on other people's impressions, of necessity equally unreliable. Morever, everyone tends to remember what he wants to remember. Disagreeable facts are sometimes glossed over or repressed ...." Cuddon, J. A. The Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory, 1991. The English novelist Anthony Powell said, "Memoirs can never be wholly true, since they cannot include every conceivable circumstance of what happened. The novel can do that."
APees: Jane Eyre and language; applying AP FRQs to the novel. Final review Q&A for tomorrow's test. BRING A PENCIL TOMORROW.
In other news: I will be participating in a protest after school today in front of Rep. Andy Gardiner's office, to call attention to the 240 million dollar projected (if not exaggerate) shortfall for the upcoming school year. Feel free to stop by. This affects your future, and far be it for me to be political (insert maniacal laughter here) I think we all need to be involved. This stinks for education, and even though the general economy is feeling the pinch horribly right now, education literally cannot take one more hit.
In other, other news: I am experimenting with Twitter and like it. More info pending!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Note: Many thanks to Milda, who has taken over Word of the Day. And further thanks to Kinas, for providing interesting monthly updates of weird holidays.
Gifted English II: A few students need to finish the Othello tests, while others will be moving on to Memoir. Please bring your copy of E.B. White's tale and work on the questions attached.
APees: Finish the Romanticism review and distribute graded work. ROMANTICISM TEST IS FRIDAY. I know lots of ya'll have tests Friday in other classes, and I sympathize, but there is no other time to move it. My apologies.
Gifted English II: A few students need to finish the Othello tests, while others will be moving on to Memoir. Please bring your copy of E.B. White's tale and work on the questions attached.
APees: Finish the Romanticism review and distribute graded work. ROMANTICISM TEST IS FRIDAY. I know lots of ya'll have tests Friday in other classes, and I sympathize, but there is no other time to move it. My apologies.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Moral Homework
Every so often, I assign moral homework--an assignment that you don't have to do, but that I think might be cool if you did. Assignments have ranged from "do something nice for someone unexpected" to " really stop and look at nature from a different perspective" to the all-time award winner of "crawl around on the floor to get a really different perspective." One time I asked students to Name Your House. Some of you did it, with hilarious results.
Today, my AP Lit classes read a most truly moving piece of literature-- "Meditation 17" by the amazing John Donne. Reactions were mixed throughout the day, from the sleepy to the irascible, but some students seemed to get into it and in at least two of the classes I suggested re-forming contact with a friend or family member from whom you've drifted. (Not someone you've gotten into major conflict with; this isn't Dr. Phil.) I know on Facebook you can "poke" people or request to friend or be friended; I think face-to-face or a phone call might be more ideal for this sort of thing. This afternoon, I thought more about it, and I think I'm going to extend the Moral Homework suggestion to everyone.
We're in spring now, and some of you are starting to get twitchier than usual. Friendships are falling apart. Grades are slipping. And I think you'd be shocked if you knew how many of the kids sitting right next to you with smiles plastered on their faces are really, really lonely right now.
So maybe "reach out and touch someone" isn't the greatest assignment, but I was just thinking that if we could all reach a little beyond ourselves, would that be an entirely bad thing?
Read these words from Donne, arguably one of the greatest minds of his century:
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.
No man is an island, entire of itself. Remember the movie Castaway? I don't remember the name of the character, but "Tom Hanks" was so crushingly lonely and hungry for companionship that he made a little friend out of a volleyball. Even though we all crave solitude--some more than others--we all need human contact. Think about it. There might be someone sitting across from you, two periods a day, who could really add to your life in friendship. Maybe you've lost touch with a friend from last year due to different schedules, other voices, other rooms, but maybe now would be a good time to say, How are you?
Sorry if you think this is treacly or overly sentimental. I just think that the interconnectedness between people is one of the driving mechanisms of this life, and that you owe it to yourself to try to cultivate good, positive relationships wherever you can. So think about today's moral homework, and see if it's worth doing. John Donne would tell you to!
Much love,
Ms. H.
Today, my AP Lit classes read a most truly moving piece of literature-- "Meditation 17" by the amazing John Donne. Reactions were mixed throughout the day, from the sleepy to the irascible, but some students seemed to get into it and in at least two of the classes I suggested re-forming contact with a friend or family member from whom you've drifted. (Not someone you've gotten into major conflict with; this isn't Dr. Phil.) I know on Facebook you can "poke" people or request to friend or be friended; I think face-to-face or a phone call might be more ideal for this sort of thing. This afternoon, I thought more about it, and I think I'm going to extend the Moral Homework suggestion to everyone.
We're in spring now, and some of you are starting to get twitchier than usual. Friendships are falling apart. Grades are slipping. And I think you'd be shocked if you knew how many of the kids sitting right next to you with smiles plastered on their faces are really, really lonely right now.
So maybe "reach out and touch someone" isn't the greatest assignment, but I was just thinking that if we could all reach a little beyond ourselves, would that be an entirely bad thing?
Read these words from Donne, arguably one of the greatest minds of his century:
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.
No man is an island, entire of itself. Remember the movie Castaway? I don't remember the name of the character, but "Tom Hanks" was so crushingly lonely and hungry for companionship that he made a little friend out of a volleyball. Even though we all crave solitude--some more than others--we all need human contact. Think about it. There might be someone sitting across from you, two periods a day, who could really add to your life in friendship. Maybe you've lost touch with a friend from last year due to different schedules, other voices, other rooms, but maybe now would be a good time to say, How are you?
Sorry if you think this is treacly or overly sentimental. I just think that the interconnectedness between people is one of the driving mechanisms of this life, and that you owe it to yourself to try to cultivate good, positive relationships wherever you can. So think about today's moral homework, and see if it's worth doing. John Donne would tell you to!
Much love,
Ms. H.
APees: Works Cited Page
Your Jane Eyre paper needs to use two outside sources that either directly or indirectly influence your thought process on the paper's topic. You have three topic choices--a character/genre analysis, a close reading of a motif, symbol, or theme, or an analysis of the Fay Weldon statement regarding moral reconciliation/spiritual assessment. Your outside sources need to complement your commentary or somehow affect your reading of the novel; the novel does not count as one of the two sources but may certainly be listed as a third.
To create a standard Works Cited page, follow these steps. You may use www.easybib.com to help you format the individual entries, but remember to proofread carefully, especially for punctuation.
1. Start the Works Cited page on a new piece of paper, unnumbered.
2. Center "Works Cited" on the top line--do not underline, italicize, or otherwise embellish the two words. Do not enclose them in quotation marks, either--I did here to distinguish the words from the rest of the sentence.
3. Flush with the left margin, start your first entry, alphabetized by keyword. Double-space all entries, and indent the second or third line of each entry one tab (or five spaces pica, if typing.)
4. Do not number entries, and only double-space between entries.
5. You can find further examples and more specific help here: http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/557/06/
To create a standard Works Cited page, follow these steps. You may use www.easybib.com to help you format the individual entries, but remember to proofread carefully, especially for punctuation.
1. Start the Works Cited page on a new piece of paper, unnumbered.
2. Center "Works Cited" on the top line--do not underline, italicize, or otherwise embellish the two words. Do not enclose them in quotation marks, either--I did here to distinguish the words from the rest of the sentence.
3. Flush with the left margin, start your first entry, alphabetized by keyword. Double-space all entries, and indent the second or third line of each entry one tab (or five spaces pica, if typing.)
4. Do not number entries, and only double-space between entries.
5. You can find further examples and more specific help here: http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/557/06/
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Happy St. Patrick's Day!I actually bought a green handbag for the occasion. And green nail polish!
Gifted English II: Othello Unit Test. Bring a pen or pencil--it will definitely take all period.
APees: Review for Romanticism Unit Test, with a classy handout to help you. Don't forget that the Jane Eyre paper is due by midnight tonight on www.turnitin.com.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
A new week begins!
Gifted English II: Collect Othello papers and do title parade; followed by passage analysis of "Once More to the Lake" by E.B. White and distribution of the memoir assignment. Homework: Read over rules 12-16 in Elements of Style and be prepared to discuss in class tomorrow.
AP Literature: Review MLA format and how to do a Works Cited page, then move into "Meditation 17" by Donne. Romanticism test review is tomorrow in class. HW: Jane Eyre focus paper, due tomorrow night at midnight.
Gifted English II: Collect Othello papers and do title parade; followed by passage analysis of "Once More to the Lake" by E.B. White and distribution of the memoir assignment. Homework: Read over rules 12-16 in Elements of Style and be prepared to discuss in class tomorrow.
AP Literature: Review MLA format and how to do a Works Cited page, then move into "Meditation 17" by Donne. Romanticism test review is tomorrow in class. HW: Jane Eyre focus paper, due tomorrow night at midnight.
FCAT Week is over. . .
. . .and I am so relieved.
And I've been out for the count for a bit, having had dental work done on Thursday morning.
Couple of updates:
1. Almost HALF of my sophomores did not make the deadline on the Othello paper, which was due last night at midnight on www.turnitin.com. To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement--I really don't think I'm even challenging you as much as I could or should, and you can't even make a simple deadline? (Of course, half the students DID, but half DIDN'T and are probably assuming that I'll just take it late. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You're already down a letter grade, so don't make it worse--upload THIS WEEKEND.)
2. So, APees--take this as a warning. The Jane Eyre paper is due by midnight on Tuesday, with a hard copy following on Wednesday in class. Of course, papers submitted earlier will receive extra consideration. We will go over this in class on Monday. And you have my extreme condolences on the chaos that was last week.
And I've been out for the count for a bit, having had dental work done on Thursday morning.
Couple of updates:
1. Almost HALF of my sophomores did not make the deadline on the Othello paper, which was due last night at midnight on www.turnitin.com. To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement--I really don't think I'm even challenging you as much as I could or should, and you can't even make a simple deadline? (Of course, half the students DID, but half DIDN'T and are probably assuming that I'll just take it late. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You're already down a letter grade, so don't make it worse--upload THIS WEEKEND.)
2. So, APees--take this as a warning. The Jane Eyre paper is due by midnight on Tuesday, with a hard copy following on Wednesday in class. Of course, papers submitted earlier will receive extra consideration. We will go over this in class on Monday. And you have my extreme condolences on the chaos that was last week.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Upcoming Assignments
1. Sophys: The Othello paper is due Friday night by 11:59 p.m. on www.turnitin.com. If you have trouble uploading it, you may e-mail it to jennifer.hilley@ocps.net or hilleyj@gmail.com by the same deadline and I will post it for you. The assignment: Defend Iago. How can you use evidence from the text to justify or at least explain Iago's nefarious actions? Remember: The Writing Center is still open during FCAT days for help.
2. APees: The Jane Eyre paper requires TWO outside sources, one of which I am giving you this week (should you decide to use it.) The three topics are:
Also, for your Works Cited page, you are welcome to use a web helper like www.easybib.com, which will format according to MLA style for free. Most web pages now feature a helpful bibliographic entry at the bottom of each page for your use, as well.
2. APees: The Jane Eyre paper requires TWO outside sources, one of which I am giving you this week (should you decide to use it.) The three topics are:
- Selecting any motif, symbol, or theme from the novel, and analyzing how it complements the work as a whole.
- Genre analysis: How Jane's development is revealed through the novel's use of its own categories. (Bildungsroman, journey literature, Gothic romance. . .)
- Fay Weldon quote from the 1996 AP exam, focusing on moral reconciliation and spiritual reassessment and a new form of happy ending.
- http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/bronte/cbronte/index.html
- http://www.ipl.org/div/litcrit/bin/litcrit.out.pl?au=bro-36
- http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/english/melani/cs6/bronte.html
- http://faculty.plattsburgh.edu/peter.friesen/default.asp?go=240
Also, for your Works Cited page, you are welcome to use a web helper like www.easybib.com, which will format according to MLA style for free. Most web pages now feature a helpful bibliographic entry at the bottom of each page for your use, as well.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
I hope you turned your clocks ahead one hour; otherwise, you're going to be very surprised first period tomorrow. Also, this is a good time of year to check your home's smoke alarm--test it by holding down the button for five seconds, and if it makes a weird sound get new batteries for it. I'm not a fire marshal (ha, ha) but I care about safety!
I spend the weekend hibernating in Flu Zone and feel (marginally) better, so I will be in class tomorrow. I have a parent conference at 9:00 but I will be in my classroom before/after for anyone who needs anything.
Gifted English II: We have three major tasks to do today: Go over the FCAT testing list, and ensure that you know where and when to report on Tuesday and Wednesday; review for the inevitable Othello test that is coming up at the end of the week; distribute the new reading assignment for our new non-fiction unit. This will be the only day I will see you this week--Thursday is a testing adjustment day, and you will have third period all morning, and Friday I will still be out due to Thursday's dental issues. See me today or e-mail me if you have any questions or concerns about anything.
AP Literature: I will address questions on the Jane Eyre paper and remind you that you can earn FIVE EXTRA CREDIT POINTS if you bring your rough draft to the Writing Center for consultation today, tomorrow, or Wednesday. The paper is due Friday. In class today, we will begin reviewing for the Romanticism Unit Test and read a metaphysical poem by John Donne, "Death Be Not Proud."
I spend the weekend hibernating in Flu Zone and feel (marginally) better, so I will be in class tomorrow. I have a parent conference at 9:00 but I will be in my classroom before/after for anyone who needs anything.
Gifted English II: We have three major tasks to do today: Go over the FCAT testing list, and ensure that you know where and when to report on Tuesday and Wednesday; review for the inevitable Othello test that is coming up at the end of the week; distribute the new reading assignment for our new non-fiction unit. This will be the only day I will see you this week--Thursday is a testing adjustment day, and you will have third period all morning, and Friday I will still be out due to Thursday's dental issues. See me today or e-mail me if you have any questions or concerns about anything.
AP Literature: I will address questions on the Jane Eyre paper and remind you that you can earn FIVE EXTRA CREDIT POINTS if you bring your rough draft to the Writing Center for consultation today, tomorrow, or Wednesday. The paper is due Friday. In class today, we will begin reviewing for the Romanticism Unit Test and read a metaphysical poem by John Donne, "Death Be Not Proud."
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
My seventh period class, no doubt disgusted by all of the nose-blowing and wretched coughing, and worried about my increasingly pink cheeks (fever is 101, thanks) talked me into getting a sub tomorrow. That flu that detonated many of my students has taken over my reality, which means that for the first time in my teaching history I am out for three consecutive Fridays. Am I happy about this? Not at all. Last week, I took my mother for a mandatory CAT scan, tomorrow is Fever Day, and next Friday is Dental Woe Recovery Day. March madness continues, and stinks. 2009 is just not opening well!!!
Sophys: Peer edit for rough draft. Your substitute will go around and stamp each rough draft; when you submit the final draft by March 13, 2009, no stamp on the rough draft =woe. Be sure you are stamped!!! The peer edit will be less complicated than last time; read for five minutes, then trade. Ten minutes total. Afterwards, you may watch The Great Smothering in the film. Hint: Othello does not have a happy ending.
APees: The substitute will distribute the Jane Eyre focus paper assignment. For those of you who have already finished the novel, I strongly suggest using the period to plan your paper and find evidence. For the rest of you--the vast majority--READ*. This novel needs to come to a conclusion. Also, if you have the money for Heart of Darkness, hang on to it until Monday--I am ordering books today regardless, and have ordered a few extras. We can settle up on Monday.
*READ does not mean free period, or going to Bakery Plus, or playing with your CrackBerry. It means READING one of the greatest novels of all time. READ.
Sophys: Peer edit for rough draft. Your substitute will go around and stamp each rough draft; when you submit the final draft by March 13, 2009, no stamp on the rough draft =woe. Be sure you are stamped!!! The peer edit will be less complicated than last time; read for five minutes, then trade. Ten minutes total. Afterwards, you may watch The Great Smothering in the film. Hint: Othello does not have a happy ending.
APees: The substitute will distribute the Jane Eyre focus paper assignment. For those of you who have already finished the novel, I strongly suggest using the period to plan your paper and find evidence. For the rest of you--the vast majority--READ*. This novel needs to come to a conclusion. Also, if you have the money for Heart of Darkness, hang on to it until Monday--I am ordering books today regardless, and have ordered a few extras. We can settle up on Monday.
*READ does not mean free period, or going to Bakery Plus, or playing with your CrackBerry. It means READING one of the greatest novels of all time. READ.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The flu marches on. Oh, that's a pun. Get it? Marches? Tehee.
Sophys: Review FCAT; reminder of rough draft; Cassio's drunken and disorderly conduct; Othello realizes the sordid truthiness.
APees: Share Bertha CWs and begin questions for Chapters 21-26 (a continuation of our discussion in class on Wednesday.)
Sophys: Review FCAT; reminder of rough draft; Cassio's drunken and disorderly conduct; Othello realizes the sordid truthiness.
APees: Share Bertha CWs and begin questions for Chapters 21-26 (a continuation of our discussion in class on Wednesday.)
Bertha Speaks
Warning: This one is long, but I have no idea how to do a cut-text like in Livejournal. My HTML is really, really limited. . .so, sorry.
Today I assigned my seniors to rewrite a scene from Jane Eyre from the perspective of the "madwoman in the attic." I never assign something I'm not willing to do. . .and in fact, I have done this one in the past. . .but today I was inspired, and this is what came of it. Trash or treasure. I wrote this in sixth and seventh periods today, after throwing out what I started in fifth. Writing is a recursive process; this still needs work.
Bertha Speaks
He said he’d come for me last week; like everything else he’s ever said, it was a lie. His lies tasted like truth but over time the voices have confessed what they were afraid to tell me at first: Like all men, he lies. Now I just long for the balm of sleep.
And so it’s been a lonely week, many days and nights of sorrow during which my hair grew gray and my nails became talons. The wretch who brings my meals stinks of whiskey, and she never speaks or looks directly at me, but in some ways her voice is loudest of all.
On the first day, I stare out the small garret window in disbelief at the grayness and overwhelming oppression of what he jovially called the English sky. How I miss the colors of home—the bright plumage of the parrot who used the sing me songs of the sea, the green grasses that seemed to catch fire in the morning light. Here it is dreary and cold, and even the birds circle aimlessly over the browns and grays and beige washes of the land below me. The first day seems to go on forever; I feel like I take meals over and over, and scarcely sleep. He would come for me, restore me to my rightful place at his side, and we would go back home to the islands. I scream a lot the first day, until my broken voice finally silences the angry chorus in my head. How I hate him, this first day of imprisonment.
The second day is much easier; I laugh and chat for hours, it seems, and Grace—a name unbefitting a wretch of her stature—gives me thread and a needle. By the dim light of the oil lamp I ply my needle, dying the muslin reddish with my efforts. I remember feeling immense satisfaction that I created so moving a gift for my lord, my Edward. I laugh until my sides hurt, and don’t notice until nightfall that my one small window now hides behind bars. Despair sinks over me and I sleep, curling my battered fingers into fists like an angry infant.
Day three dawns cold and fair, with shafts of light peeking in through the slats on my permanent shutter. I yawn and stretch, alone for once, and observe my reflection in the mirror over my bureau. I hadn’t noticed it before, but someone has apparently broken the edges, leaving an uneven border and patches where the mercury glass had been scratched viciously, but if I lean to the left I can discern my visage, and I frown at the facsimile staring back at me. I decide that I am too fine for the attic, but too poor a guest for the parlor, so I set about with my morning toilette, combing my hair and smearing rouge on my pale cheeks. The guests below wouldn’t want a pale specter such as myself casting a pall over the evening games. Now I would just wait for an invitation.
Hours pass. Grace appears with a tray, and calls me a fool. She doesn’t appreciate my sartorial efforts. Grace is a fool. Edward just forgot. He will come for me, and we will play charades, and he will hold me enclosed in his powerful arms and croon promises of love and recompense for his shabby treatment. All will be well. I fall asleep, still besmeared with makeup I crafted myself from soot and candle wax, waiting for him.
Much time seems to pass after the third day; I rage and scream and break the shutter in an attempt to assuage my grief at my husband’s apparent forgetfulness. I thought the fourth day would never come; caught in a limbo between days for an unsupportable passage of hours and minutes and weeks, I feel the dread growing within me. And amid that dread, I formulate a plan. Mohammed will go to the mountain. I have read of such things, such Eastern religions, in my youth. Mohammed will go to the mountain since the mountain will not visit the lonely prophet.
Each new day brings me closer to my wedding night. Or has it already passed, and I missed it? The fourth day finally comes, after much waiting and plotting, and my keeper falls asleep by the hearth late in the afternoon, her keys dangling from her scabbed fingers. I idly wonder who had bitten her thus; I can’t imagine that she tastes sweet. Those wounded fingers yield the keys quickly enough, though, thanks to the brownish amber she’d drunk, and I smooth down my hair to make myself more presentable for my journey. Grace snores fitfully as I work key after key in the old brass lock until the tumbler turned and I stealthily push open the oak door that stands between my reality and my hopes.
Four days he had left me upstairs, and I had aged a decade! How unfair it is for women. Men age so slowly, it seems, and every element of suffering is etched permanently into our faces and our bodies. I catch a glimpse of my shadow, hunched and timid, a ghost of what I once was. My joints ache from disuse, but I manage the stairs easily enough, looking in every open doorway for my lord and master. Voices rise from below—a child’s singsong cadence in a tongue I do not understand, the gruff remonstrations of that devilish housekeeper, the dulcet tones of another unknown to me. These sounds comingle with the voices in my head, distracting and jarring me. I do not hear Edward, or what I remember of Edward. Four days is a long time. Anger wells up within me as I reached for the burning tallow. Four days is forever.
A cacophony assaults my ears, and I pull at my hair in a vain attempt to stop the flames from spreading. I have been listening so intently to the voices that the room has become engulfed in orange, red, vibrant hues of flickering flames when I fail to keep watch. The heat rises as live sparks dance from the duvet to the pillows to the tufted rug below the bed, but for a moment, lost in thought, shreds of hair in my hands, I feel the warmth of Jamaica in my bones. The fire gives such lovely light—casting away the endless gloom of this so-called country that will never be my own. A roaring scream, astonishingly from my own throat, draws the old woman from below. I am smothering, dying, wrapped in coarse serge, hands beating at my head and arms, smoke everywhere.
“Grace Poole!” she shrieks. “You have quite forgot yourself!”
Ahh—so I am Grace, and the wretch upstairs had been mistaken. But it is not to be; the familiar, sour smell of drink reaches my nostrils, even amid the acrid smoke, and my keeper stands in shame at my side.
“You can’t leave her be, for even a moment!” the housekeeper cries. “And to get into the bottle again—fie, for shame!”
I tremble. He had left me for so many days, recoiled from my touch, and now he would never come upstairs again. You don’t understand, I want to say, but the voices have to be heard first. The fire is my only joy.
“See? Gibberish. She’s a savage, the poor creature.”
No, you don’t understand. He is my husband, and we’re going to be married. Just as soon as I can cool my fiery skin and sleep.
Firm hands guide me back to my chamber, bathe me, dress my wounds, speak in soothing tones barely audible above the ongoing clamor between my ears.
“We musn’t tell the new girl; he would be ever so angry!”
Hungry for even a mention of him, I gaze up at my keeper, and her keeper. “Edward?” I ask plaintively.
“She’s muttering again. Best let her sleep. We’ll clean up his bedchamber by morning and add a lock here, lest she get out again. Pay mind to her, Grace. Don’t trust her for a second.”
I want to cry, want to let them know that he promised to come for me last week. I know it’s only the fourth day but I can wait no longer. He promised me kindness and companionship and safety, and I can wait no longer. We are married. We are to be married. We are married, yes? Yes, I thought so.
The voices slip into a dull roar, and I close my eyes in hopes of sleep. I am Mrs. Rochester, not Grace. I am the lady of the house. Tomorrow I will be stronger, and tomorrow I will make myself known to him. He lies and breaks promises, but he is my husband and I can wait no longer. Four days is forever.
Today I assigned my seniors to rewrite a scene from Jane Eyre from the perspective of the "madwoman in the attic." I never assign something I'm not willing to do. . .and in fact, I have done this one in the past. . .but today I was inspired, and this is what came of it. Trash or treasure. I wrote this in sixth and seventh periods today, after throwing out what I started in fifth. Writing is a recursive process; this still needs work.
Bertha Speaks
He said he’d come for me last week; like everything else he’s ever said, it was a lie. His lies tasted like truth but over time the voices have confessed what they were afraid to tell me at first: Like all men, he lies. Now I just long for the balm of sleep.
And so it’s been a lonely week, many days and nights of sorrow during which my hair grew gray and my nails became talons. The wretch who brings my meals stinks of whiskey, and she never speaks or looks directly at me, but in some ways her voice is loudest of all.
On the first day, I stare out the small garret window in disbelief at the grayness and overwhelming oppression of what he jovially called the English sky. How I miss the colors of home—the bright plumage of the parrot who used the sing me songs of the sea, the green grasses that seemed to catch fire in the morning light. Here it is dreary and cold, and even the birds circle aimlessly over the browns and grays and beige washes of the land below me. The first day seems to go on forever; I feel like I take meals over and over, and scarcely sleep. He would come for me, restore me to my rightful place at his side, and we would go back home to the islands. I scream a lot the first day, until my broken voice finally silences the angry chorus in my head. How I hate him, this first day of imprisonment.
The second day is much easier; I laugh and chat for hours, it seems, and Grace—a name unbefitting a wretch of her stature—gives me thread and a needle. By the dim light of the oil lamp I ply my needle, dying the muslin reddish with my efforts. I remember feeling immense satisfaction that I created so moving a gift for my lord, my Edward. I laugh until my sides hurt, and don’t notice until nightfall that my one small window now hides behind bars. Despair sinks over me and I sleep, curling my battered fingers into fists like an angry infant.
Day three dawns cold and fair, with shafts of light peeking in through the slats on my permanent shutter. I yawn and stretch, alone for once, and observe my reflection in the mirror over my bureau. I hadn’t noticed it before, but someone has apparently broken the edges, leaving an uneven border and patches where the mercury glass had been scratched viciously, but if I lean to the left I can discern my visage, and I frown at the facsimile staring back at me. I decide that I am too fine for the attic, but too poor a guest for the parlor, so I set about with my morning toilette, combing my hair and smearing rouge on my pale cheeks. The guests below wouldn’t want a pale specter such as myself casting a pall over the evening games. Now I would just wait for an invitation.
Hours pass. Grace appears with a tray, and calls me a fool. She doesn’t appreciate my sartorial efforts. Grace is a fool. Edward just forgot. He will come for me, and we will play charades, and he will hold me enclosed in his powerful arms and croon promises of love and recompense for his shabby treatment. All will be well. I fall asleep, still besmeared with makeup I crafted myself from soot and candle wax, waiting for him.
Much time seems to pass after the third day; I rage and scream and break the shutter in an attempt to assuage my grief at my husband’s apparent forgetfulness. I thought the fourth day would never come; caught in a limbo between days for an unsupportable passage of hours and minutes and weeks, I feel the dread growing within me. And amid that dread, I formulate a plan. Mohammed will go to the mountain. I have read of such things, such Eastern religions, in my youth. Mohammed will go to the mountain since the mountain will not visit the lonely prophet.
Each new day brings me closer to my wedding night. Or has it already passed, and I missed it? The fourth day finally comes, after much waiting and plotting, and my keeper falls asleep by the hearth late in the afternoon, her keys dangling from her scabbed fingers. I idly wonder who had bitten her thus; I can’t imagine that she tastes sweet. Those wounded fingers yield the keys quickly enough, though, thanks to the brownish amber she’d drunk, and I smooth down my hair to make myself more presentable for my journey. Grace snores fitfully as I work key after key in the old brass lock until the tumbler turned and I stealthily push open the oak door that stands between my reality and my hopes.
Four days he had left me upstairs, and I had aged a decade! How unfair it is for women. Men age so slowly, it seems, and every element of suffering is etched permanently into our faces and our bodies. I catch a glimpse of my shadow, hunched and timid, a ghost of what I once was. My joints ache from disuse, but I manage the stairs easily enough, looking in every open doorway for my lord and master. Voices rise from below—a child’s singsong cadence in a tongue I do not understand, the gruff remonstrations of that devilish housekeeper, the dulcet tones of another unknown to me. These sounds comingle with the voices in my head, distracting and jarring me. I do not hear Edward, or what I remember of Edward. Four days is a long time. Anger wells up within me as I reached for the burning tallow. Four days is forever.
A cacophony assaults my ears, and I pull at my hair in a vain attempt to stop the flames from spreading. I have been listening so intently to the voices that the room has become engulfed in orange, red, vibrant hues of flickering flames when I fail to keep watch. The heat rises as live sparks dance from the duvet to the pillows to the tufted rug below the bed, but for a moment, lost in thought, shreds of hair in my hands, I feel the warmth of Jamaica in my bones. The fire gives such lovely light—casting away the endless gloom of this so-called country that will never be my own. A roaring scream, astonishingly from my own throat, draws the old woman from below. I am smothering, dying, wrapped in coarse serge, hands beating at my head and arms, smoke everywhere.
“Grace Poole!” she shrieks. “You have quite forgot yourself!”
Ahh—so I am Grace, and the wretch upstairs had been mistaken. But it is not to be; the familiar, sour smell of drink reaches my nostrils, even amid the acrid smoke, and my keeper stands in shame at my side.
“You can’t leave her be, for even a moment!” the housekeeper cries. “And to get into the bottle again—fie, for shame!”
I tremble. He had left me for so many days, recoiled from my touch, and now he would never come upstairs again. You don’t understand, I want to say, but the voices have to be heard first. The fire is my only joy.
“See? Gibberish. She’s a savage, the poor creature.”
No, you don’t understand. He is my husband, and we’re going to be married. Just as soon as I can cool my fiery skin and sleep.
Firm hands guide me back to my chamber, bathe me, dress my wounds, speak in soothing tones barely audible above the ongoing clamor between my ears.
“We musn’t tell the new girl; he would be ever so angry!”
Hungry for even a mention of him, I gaze up at my keeper, and her keeper. “Edward?” I ask plaintively.
“She’s muttering again. Best let her sleep. We’ll clean up his bedchamber by morning and add a lock here, lest she get out again. Pay mind to her, Grace. Don’t trust her for a second.”
I want to cry, want to let them know that he promised to come for me last week. I know it’s only the fourth day but I can wait no longer. He promised me kindness and companionship and safety, and I can wait no longer. We are married. We are to be married. We are married, yes? Yes, I thought so.
The voices slip into a dull roar, and I close my eyes in hopes of sleep. I am Mrs. Rochester, not Grace. I am the lady of the house. Tomorrow I will be stronger, and tomorrow I will make myself known to him. He lies and breaks promises, but he is my husband and I can wait no longer. Four days is forever.
Othello - Put money in thy purse
This is what we saw in class today.
"I'll sell my land!!!!!"
What fools will do for love. . .
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Flu, flu, flu. Oy vey, the flu. It's so bad I had to take out my nose ring.
Sophys: FCAT review passage about turtles; one sentence makes no grammatical sense and the others are choppy, but we have to address give multiple choice questions regardless. Then--Act I of Othello for pre-writing purposes. IF YOU BRING YOUR OTHELLO PAPER TO THE WRITING CENTER TODAY OR TOMORROW YOU GET EXTRA CREDIT ON YOUR ROUGH DRAFT. Rough draft due Friday.
APees: Fantastic and sassy review of Jane Eyre chapters 22-26--with more Bertha!--and then a creative writing opportunity in which we may "be Bertha."
Sophys: FCAT review passage about turtles; one sentence makes no grammatical sense and the others are choppy, but we have to address give multiple choice questions regardless. Then--Act I of Othello for pre-writing purposes. IF YOU BRING YOUR OTHELLO PAPER TO THE WRITING CENTER TODAY OR TOMORROW YOU GET EXTRA CREDIT ON YOUR ROUGH DRAFT. Rough draft due Friday.
APees: Fantastic and sassy review of Jane Eyre chapters 22-26--with more Bertha!--and then a creative writing opportunity in which we may "be Bertha."
Monday, March 02, 2009
Strong Bad E-Mail Dragon
This might explain the sticker on the door to the English Department Office.
TROGDOR RULES!!!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Flu season rolls on. Apparently, I felt so awful the last time I posted here that I spelled "past" as "pat." Either that, or watching reality TV on VH1 has melted my brain. Either is a distinct possibility. Take care of yourselves, people! C'est importante!
FCAT is next week; specific schedules will be posted Thursday. We will be reviewing FCAT strategies in my sophy class on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of this week before the film screening of Othello. (I will be distributing permission slips tomorrow; they MUST be returned Wednesday if you wish to see selected scenes of this film.)
Sophys: Distribute aforementioned permission slips and focus paper assignment. Also, we are going to review the first of several FCAT strategies (as in, please take it seriously and don't use this as an opportunity to be cute or sarcastic) and look at the style section of Elements. I am so proud that we have finished the play! Isn't it great? From "goats and monkeys" to Ludovico's unfortunate line today, the play is just chockablock with quotable material.
APees: Timed Writing, this time on a porose passage--page 160 in the CLIFF book, otherwise known as the Not Quite as Scary Practice AP Book as the Scary Beige One. This book features a friendly, non-threatening green and yellow cover, and nice big print. Okay! That said, this prompt is delish. . .a passage that might be from a novel that might have been written by someone whose name rhymes with "Blane Mawsten." In other words, all the girliness you can stand. I think prose passages are easier to evaluate in writing than poetic ones, particularly if you have trouble digesting poetry, but this one might cause trouble if you fail to identify the tone. Tone is everything, people!
Like last week, I will grade these as I get them, and pass them back out on Wednesday in class for review. You can safely assume that we will have a weekly AP practice session each week between now and the AP exam.
Oh, and congratulations on the Romanticism project presentations today--they were marvelous. I have never seen such diversity of expression.
FCAT is next week; specific schedules will be posted Thursday. We will be reviewing FCAT strategies in my sophy class on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of this week before the film screening of Othello. (I will be distributing permission slips tomorrow; they MUST be returned Wednesday if you wish to see selected scenes of this film.)
Sophys: Distribute aforementioned permission slips and focus paper assignment. Also, we are going to review the first of several FCAT strategies (as in, please take it seriously and don't use this as an opportunity to be cute or sarcastic) and look at the style section of Elements. I am so proud that we have finished the play! Isn't it great? From "goats and monkeys" to Ludovico's unfortunate line today, the play is just chockablock with quotable material.
APees: Timed Writing, this time on a porose passage--page 160 in the CLIFF book, otherwise known as the Not Quite as Scary Practice AP Book as the Scary Beige One. This book features a friendly, non-threatening green and yellow cover, and nice big print. Okay! That said, this prompt is delish. . .a passage that might be from a novel that might have been written by someone whose name rhymes with "Blane Mawsten." In other words, all the girliness you can stand. I think prose passages are easier to evaluate in writing than poetic ones, particularly if you have trouble digesting poetry, but this one might cause trouble if you fail to identify the tone. Tone is everything, people!
Like last week, I will grade these as I get them, and pass them back out on Wednesday in class for review. You can safely assume that we will have a weekly AP practice session each week between now and the AP exam.
Oh, and congratulations on the Romanticism project presentations today--they were marvelous. I have never seen such diversity of expression.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Personal Note: I think I'm coming down with the flu. Great! I had to be out Friday for a family medical issue, and I think the stress of the pat week has weakened my immune system and made me tetchy. I will be there tomorrow, but I wouldn't get really close--and I will be doing the Vitamin C thing.
On to curriculum:
Gifted English II: Review the new vocabulary list, go over the Elements style guidelines, and transition into Act V of Othello.
AP Lit: Romanticism project presentations, part II. Timed writing tomorrow.
Planning Ahead: Germany Spring Break trip meeting Tuesday night 7 p.m. in my classroom. This isn't for next year's travels, but for the people signed up to go later this month to Germany. (I have some room left if you are interested in this spring break, though--see me tomorrow.)
On to curriculum:
Gifted English II: Review the new vocabulary list, go over the Elements style guidelines, and transition into Act V of Othello.
AP Lit: Romanticism project presentations, part II. Timed writing tomorrow.
Planning Ahead: Germany Spring Break trip meeting Tuesday night 7 p.m. in my classroom. This isn't for next year's travels, but for the people signed up to go later this month to Germany. (I have some room left if you are interested in this spring break, though--see me tomorrow.)
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