Theme Thursday: Gigantic

Gigantic.
So many things to choose from: my pile of unfolded washing; the list of props I have to find for the musical; the pile of Year 10 tests waiting to be marked; the resentment I bear towards the men in our house who NEVER change the toilet roll (I am declaring a moratorium on this you know...I will not change another roll I did not finish myself >:-(......); the list of costumes still to be sewn; the responsibility for getting 'the bag' with the netball equipment to the game on Saturday (our coach is sick); my big fat a***................

Mindful of the pettiness of the here and now, the enormity of time and the steadfastness of God and nature, I will refrain from posting pictures of any of these and give you instead; Stonehenge. Although you can't quite see how gigantic it is cos they won't let you near it any more. Not even if you're a Druid. Or maybe especially if you're a Druid?

Actually, it looks really small here doesn't it?

Click over to Cheese Party and see if anyone else has a Gigantic offering which actually IS Gigantic.

Where were you?

Bobby Kennedy: 1968
Not sure when I first heard but vividly remember walking to school as he lay dying in hospital and seeing a heart drawn in chalk on the pavement with the words 'Pray for Bobby' inscribed.




Elvis Presley: 1977
Sitting in my dad's Holden Kingswood at the intersection of Cross Road and Goodwood Road, taking my younger sister to school.





John Lennon: 1980
Sitting on the beach at Barwon Heads in Victoria. A child ran up to a nearby parent calling out that John Lennon had been assassinated. I thought they had made a mistake because no-one assassinates pop stars.




Princess Diana: 1997
Putting a video on for my two year old early on a Sunday morning in the summer. I was heading back to bed but I couldn't work out why the news was screening pictures of the Royal Wedding from 1981 so I stopped to watch.........





Paula Yates: 2000
Driving with my friend Claire to pick up our children from a party. I was so sad but almost unsurprised. I had been devastated by the death of her partner Michael Hutchence too but I can't remember where I was when I heard about him.






The Queen Mother: 2002
We'd been in Spain on holiday and returned to England to be picked up at the airport by our friends. Back at their house the radio announced plans for her funeral. We were stunned. We hadn't heard she was dead. "Where have you been?" asked my friend, "it's all anyone's been talking about for days." Well, we'd been in SPAIN!!!!!


Heath Ledger: 2008
Arriving in Glenelg for our first staff gathering of the school year I heard it on the radio and texted the Bestie immediately. Again we were in shock. We had both adored him.





Michael Jackson:2009
Walking into the school library this morning, frantic and flat out trying to complete a modified exam for a 9am start. A host of students greeted me with the news...and their opinions. Fascinating.

At 11 years of age my bedroom walls were plastered with pictures of the Jackson 5. Even today the strains of "I'll Be There" bring a lump to my throat. My parents bribed me to good behaviour with promises of the 'Going Back To Indiana' soundtrack! (I still have it) Somewhere along the line Michael lost the plot. Mightily. Actually he went out with less of a a bang than a whimper it seems to me; but when he was flying high we were all watching.

Some Early Favourites From the History Exam

Q: What was The Iron Curtain?

A big metal curtain which blocks the sunlight, made of iron. Because this is a foolish idea, there was only ever one made thus dubbing it 'The' Iron Curtain.
Honestly: no idea.

(part of an essay on the Vietnam War))
Back at home, the public was getting anxious(? not sure..difficult to read). They wanted the soldiers back and were willing to fight for it. Ironic. They want peace so they'll fight for it. LOL

....Are Doomed To Repeat It.....

Boy 1: "Yeah, but like why do we have to learn things like Ancient Rome and stuff? When are we ever going to use that? I mean unless you're going to be a museum curator or a historian or something and like, that's not very likely is it?"

Boy 2 (M)"Yeah Mrs A, we should be learning stuff about TODAY. About the issues that are happening now, that will affect us in the future, why can't we learn about THAT??"

Thusly went part of a conversation between students and teacher in a Geography lesson on Friday afternoon.

This one Geography lesson a week has been the bane of my existence this year. It is the 'worst' Year 10 class; straight after lunch on a Friday; they're not really my class, I simply babysit them once a week for their extremely talented and popular male teacher who has another class at that time and we differ in our expectations of what they should actually do in a single Geography lesson on a Friday afternoon. They think they should do nothing. I disagree.

As you can imagine, a significant portion of the boys in the class (and a significant proportion of the class are boys) see this lesson as an opportunity to have a little fun with the teacher. At the beginning of the year, the bell would go at 1.40pm and by 2.00pm I had maybe 2/3 of the class present. The rest (we shall call them 'The Reprobates'*) would straggle in, sans books, pencils and work ethic and proceed to clatter loudly though the room to the back row, prop their chairs up against the back wall and put their feet up. When quizzed on their lateness they would look me straight in the eye and say, "We were looking for our books in our lockers." The fact that they were all wet through from an obvious water fight in the toilets was neither here nor there.

After a few weeks of detentions where they had to write out the importance of coming to class on time, I had cured most of their lateness but rubbed their 'attitude' up into a veritable static storm of resentment. They crackled as they entered the room.

I further endeared myself to them by beginning to escort them to their next lesson as it became evident that they used the 45 sec walk from one classroom to another to visit the toilet, locker, drinking fountain, squabble, water fight or disappear off into the bowels of the school never to return. The end of last term saw an escalation in the resentment as I gave several detentions for reading manga comics in class and talking during 'silent time' (don't ask, it's a school tradition).

The manga comics incident was one of those headshaking moments. I noticed, as the rest of the class were discussing the current Australian water crisis, a young man in the front row, head down, absorbed in his reading. He wasn't even trying to hide it. When asked to hand over the book he was outraged.
"But it's not mine! He (points) lent it to me."

Later, as others were answering written questions I tackled him on the issue.
"What makes you think that it is in any way acceptable to be sitting in class reading a comic?"
"Well, I didn't have my textbook or my exercise book so I couldn't do any work, so I might as well."

Aaaaaanyway, I digress (now there's a surprise). To some degree it was a difficult class for the kids too as I was not their regular teacher and relied upon him to give me the work for them to complete. He usually did this about 30secs before I walked into the classroom so I was left playing catch-up and could not always answer all their questions, not that The Reprobates had any intention of asking any, well not intelligent ones anyway. Their questions usually had ulterior motives like trying to trick me into saying something that would get me into trouble with the ultra conservative Christian School Board.

In the second to last week of term their teacher was on a course and had not left me any work (horror) so I visited the Library and found an animated film about life in space after the Earth had been destroyed; Titan AE or something. Do you think The Reprobates could manage to let me get it up and running without incident? Of course not. Granted they probably didn't know what the film was and may have assumed an old frump like me was going to force them to watch a documentary on endangered marsupials in the Amazon, but their deliberate group singing over the top of my introduction tried my otherwise sunny countenance and I sent one of them outside.

Once the rest had shut up and were watching the film I went out to see my little friend and discuss his behaviour. He was arrogant and rude in the extreme and rather than engage in a fruitless power struggle I suggested he just go straight to the Focus Room. He was irate!

"You can't send me to the Focus Room! You haven't given me a warning yet! School rules say you have to warn me, move me and THEN send me out! You didn't even warn me or move me!"

"I think you've had enough warning already mate," I reasoned," You've had three terms worth of warnings, you know what is expected of you."

"Ah! But every lesson should be a fresh start. We get our warnings all over again every lesson."

"But you don't give me a fresh start every lesson."

This slowed him for a moment.

"Yes, but you're the teacher, you should lead by example."

"M, I have tried time and time again to give you a fresh start. I speak to you civilly in the yard. I ask how you're going and you cut me dead."

"But there's a line between being a teacher and a friend you know."

"I'm not trying to be your friend. I am trying to be pleasant and civil but you boys, when you come into this class carry every detention you've ever received with you. You walk in the door in attack mode and you never give me a fresh start. Why should I give you one?"

There was a momentary silence.

"Well, I'm sorry about that."

Pardon? Did I hear him correctly? Did he just apologise????

"That's alright M. If you can sit out here quietly for a moment I'll see if I can let you back in the classroom."

**********************************************************************
He was indeed able to re-enter the classroom and although I am not saying he is a radically changed young man, he has at least given the whole thing some thought. This was evidenced by this week's lesson and the conversation with which I opened the post.

This week I had given up any hope of getting any work out of them. They had the list of revision questions to attempt and I had made it clear that I was available to help if they needed me but I was b******d if I was going to knock myself out on a Friday afternoon on the week before exams. I sat with a group of kids looking at the questions, trying to decide what a 'scattergraph' was, when M and his two friends called to me across the aisle with their question about History.

To begin with, it was difficult to ascertain whether they were simply being malicious, having a 'go' at a subject they know I teach, but I decided to try the 'fresh start' principle and engage in the discussion rather than attempting to steer them back onto Geography questions they had no intention of completing.

Firstly, I felt it necessary to point out that if they wanted a subject which dealt with current issues, things that would affect their future, then Geography is it. After all, the current topic is Environmental Issues!
They kind of acknowledged this but pushed it aside as they continued on with their rant against History.

"I mean, what's the point of learning about Ancient Egypt?"

"I thought most kids liked learning about ancient Egypt?"

"Well, yeah, that was quite interesting BUT other History topics, what use are they?"

"Hmm, you mentioned Ancient Rome. What happened to it? Why did it collapse? It got too big didn't it? And what is happening to our world economy today? It's got so large and interdependent that if one large economy falters it affects us all. We're seeing that now."
(I know this is a pretty loose interpretation but I was going for impact here)

"Yes, yes, yes, but we should be looking to predict things about the future. I mean, why aren't we talking about Mumbai?"

"Well, do you know the History of Mumbai? Of India? Do you know what the attackers are protesting about?

Back and forward we went. He led himself into it. "The reason you are able to 'make predictions' about things," I suggested, " is because you have seen things happen in the past and you have learned from them. That is History!"

The conversation then ran from 9/11 to North Korea to East Timor to the Middle East. I pointed out to them that if they wanted to talk about these things they had to be in possession of the facts ie history; if only to ensure that they are pleasant and intelligent dinner table companions!!

"So knowing all this stuff is just about social life really?" asked M.

"That, and impressing an employer you are a well educated, well rounded individual."

" I still don't see why we have to learn things that we're not going to use!"

"Well, " I foolishly began," that's a very 15 year old point of view. You really don't have any idea just yet what you will use in life or work in the future. "

M looked at me attentively and was obviously considering this proposition. His mate however couldn't leave it alone.

"Are you saying we're childish???? At least we don't wear bright pink mickey mouse ipods. That's like what an eight year old does!!!!!!!!!!!" The other two looked at him as if he were mad.

I couldn't decide whether I was disappointed that he was still on his previous 'get the teacher agenda' or pleased that the other two weren't. I decided to go for humour.

"Oh! Ow, ow!" I feigned extreme pain," Cuts deep mate! Touche."

This time all three of them were looking at me.
"What the hell is 'touche'?"

*sigh* I guess I've still got a long way to go in the teenage boy/teacher relationship stakes.



*Reprobate: I have just checked the definition of this favoured word and found it to mean, as I intended, an 'unprincipled person'; but more co-incidentally, in Christian Theology(archaic) it apparently means 'predestined for damnation'!!!!!! My, my.

Image Credits

roman coin

globe

tin of paint

We Stand On The Brink....

5th November 2008: Adelaide, South Australia

And so it came to pass.

As I watched the excitement, the elation, the relief, the emotion,
I was overtaken by something completely different.

*************************

'I have a dream.'

I was 7 years old when I lived in New Haven Connecticut in 1968. I was an Australian kid on sabbatical with her family in the midst of one of the most turbulent times in American history. We arrived in the country in the week that Martin Luther King was assassinated. He was 39 years old.

From my childish perspective I remember only a few vivid things. We were staying in a hotel until we could find a house and because of this, when my father was scheduled to attend a conference in Washington we all went, as a family, on a Greyhound bus. We arrived late afternoon and were taken directly to another hotel at around 5pm. My mother recalls that there was a 4pm curfew (I thought it was 6pm but I was only seven at the time so we'll trust her recollections) and there was no food in the hotel so my father had to negotiate with a shop or something a few doors up the street and wrangle some bread rolls for us, as the military police were patrolling the streets.

I vividly remember the army jeeps and the soldiers with machine guns on their hips. I think it was vaguely exciting and certainly there was a sense of being in the middle of something 'big'. My mother's recollections include the fear inherent in walking the streets as a white woman with two little girls. Everything was within walking distance from the hotel and so we walked to the Smithsonian Institute and other typical tourist spots during the day when my father was at the conference. Mum remembers the black Americans sitting in doorways and on steps, glaring at her as she walked past. Washington was in the grip of the race riots.

I remember the funeral of Martin Luther King on television; I remember his perfect dark face framed by the soft gathered silk of the coffin lining; I remember my mother explaining why he was important and why he was dead; I remember her pointing out a young, sharp faced man in the front rows of the pews and exclaiming 'That's President Kennedy's brother.'

Speaking about it now, she doesn't have a clear memory of the time that she told me these things, things which would shape my thinking for years to come. She explained how painful the funeral must have been for Senator Kennedy as his brother had also been shot dead some five years before. How did my seven year old mind take in so much violence? At seven does the US become 'that place where great men are shot dead'?

Certainly this idea was to be reinforced months later as an assassin's bullet also found Bobby Kennedy. I remember watching it on TV; I remember walking to school and seeing a large chalk heart drawn on the pavement with the words 'Pray for Bobby' scrawled within. Another 'people's champion' fell. What kind of country does that? I don't think anyone told me about Abraham Lincoln at that stage. I think that came later.

So when I see Barack Obama and his family emerge triumphantly onto the walkway as President and First Family-elect, my heart is filled with foreboding. I can't help it; I am a child of the sixties.

God Bless you America for actually doing it. God Bless all of you who got up off your backsides and made a difference. It is time for a change. Is it a coincidence that this year is the 40th anniversary of the death of Martin Luther King? Could he ever have imagined that 40 years hence there would be an African American waiting in the White House wings?

All I can pray is that the Security service is on its toes.