little streams

I just instructed my night class genius 1st graders to write stream-of-conscious for the next fifteen minutes.  Instead of watching them stare at their keyboards, terrified of trying to think of an idea, translate from hangul to english, through to keys, and never hope to finish in the alloted time of the test, I threw another winger at em.  Blur the lines of the systems, the rules, the way-it-is-was-and-ever-shall-be that runs this country, and you'd think I'd set fireworks off under the casket at a funeral.  Utter confusion.

The first night I had the class, feeling entirely unprepared (thank you dynamic korea) I pulled a jewel of a creative writing exercise out of my ass (thank you Imad, for all those journals you made us do) and basically made them write backwards mad-libs.  They came up with random words (a not-so-surprising number of them involving Paul McCartney and the Beatles due to Angela's obsession), and I made them put those details into a chronological story.  Voila, a lesson on a basic, forward-moving argument.  Just remember guys, the examples of an essay are a lot like those random details you had to work into your story.  Just make it make sense.  Just try.  Don't worry.

Well, after a bit of coaxing, a LOT of explaining (they are always so worried they will get it wrong, even when they are dead-on) and encouragement TO THE MAX!!! they began typing away at the exercise.  The stories they sent me (after about 35 minutes of writing) revealed a creative, witty, and quite talented group of students.  In fact, I find that in all of my teaching here at GFLHS, shaking things up a bit and saturating them with positivity produces the most entertaining, refreshing, and rewarding results.

So here I am, sitting and watching their fingers turn into little tentacles of their brains.  I am hoping they are using this not just as a typing and writing exercise, but are getting some kind of meditative magic out of it.  I hope that they are handing over any bits of stress, of anxiety, tiredness, moans of mock-tests, and tears for weekends home.  I hope this becomes therapy (ha, since I seem to fail at keeping up with my writing, maybe that is indicative of how little therapy I need in this stress-free life I now live)

But maybe I should be careful about placing them in a box as well.  I love it when my students surprise me.