Have you met Julie from Foursons? I absolutelyfreakin' love her. She's so sweet, and she's a loyal, wonderful blogging friend. When I asked if she might be interested in bringing funny back here at my blog, she so sweetly agreed. I think you'll be glad she did. Please show her some love as she entertains you while I'm pluggin away logging way too many hours during this insanely big week at our business.
I have been honored to guest post over here today at Undercover Mother. Guest posts are always stressful because I worry about entertaining someone else's readers. I can only hope I will be able to make you laugh or snort or gasp or talk to yourself or spit out your Dr. Pepper at your computer screen or.... OK you get the point. Without further ado....
So, I recently wrote a post quoting some "precious" high schoolers that I had the honor of spending the day with. It was a joy really- my pleasure. I left a quote out of that post purposely. It was such a doozy of a conversation that I thought it deserved a post all to itself.
I was substitute teaching in a sophomore English class. I normally try to avoid 10th grade classrooms because honestly- 10th graders are horrible. But, I needed a job and the head of the English department was my freshman English and German teacher when I attended this school eons ago and she calls me up every time someone on her team is going to be out. It's pretty awesome, actually.
So anyways, I was in a 10th grade English class and we were reading a poem by Randall Jarrell titled Losses. My job was to have the students read the poem aloud and then I would ask them the questions that were in the teacher's manual about the poem. You know, those teachers have it easy. They don't have to actually know anything, it's all in the teacher's manual for them. And I should know- seeing as how I taught 7th-12th grade English once upon a time. I didn't have the answers- I had the book. Again, I digress.
So the poem was written by a WWII veteran who felt that his sacrifices for our country were not appreciated. They were on the "wrong page of the almanac" as he so eloquently stated. So eloquently, in fact, that only two 10th graders out of all 7 classes knew what an almanac was. Crazy how the Internet has changed the way kids learn now.
The kiddos are doing their assignment and answering questions about the poem. I am sitting at the teacher's desk making myself look busy writing blog posts. Yeah, it's a tough job. Ahem. A male student interrupts my writing and asks me what this means: "We blazed upon the lines we never saw." I explained to him that the author was talking about how they would set fire to enemy land (from a plane) without actually seeing who or what they were fighting.
The boy looked at me and said, "Whoa, that is not what I thought it meant at all." And as I looked at the boy I could literally read his mind and know that when you "blazed up" you were indeed lighting fire, but not the kind the author was indicating. Yup, that's right. He thought the author was blazing up a doobie, ganja, grass, weed, pot...whatever your favorite term is.
I was officially thrust into adulthood in that moment when the lines between teenager and 30-something were officially drawn and I learned that the definition for the word "blazed" does not mean A brilliant burst of fire; a flame. *sigh*