Embedded Files
Not feeling any of these from details from these chapters? Go back to the work we did about “boxing” in our identity and classifications. This one is great to use for conflict and that micro vs macro essential question.
Assigned ______. Due ______.
If you complete it, it's an automatic 100. This is about the process right now not the finished product. The more you write, the easier it is to write, the more powerful your writing becomes, and the more you care about what you're saying and how you're saying it.
Choose any option (see me if you're stuck or have other ideas), and push yourself to write until it feels finished (I don't like to set minimums or maximums because then your brain automatically aims for that and it gets in the way of just focusing on the writing, you'll know when the writing is done, but please aim for over 1 page).
Make sure to choose a title for the writing (this is part of your job to frame the writing, make meaning, and hook the reader).
My example
Nerves
I.
The thing about being shy is that even when you vanquish your fear the victory is fleeting – your doubts rush right back to fill the void like the next wave in an endless cycle.
Complete trust in Fran and weeks of planning did nothing to ease my queasiness on that first morning that I was set to teach a lesson. I texted a friend (who actually grew up near King), while I slogged along on the bus, asking for his advice. His reply was like a second helping of Fran’s initial reassurance.
“It’s good to be nervous,” my phone buzzed back.
“It shows that you care,” he followed up. I had never thought of it that way and it let me breathe for the first time that morning. I’ve since given that advice to nervous students before presentations, concerts, and basketball games and it seems to often have the same effect it had for me then.
A final boost zipped to my screen just before I neared King and got ready to turn my phone off: “Just be who you are. The kids will see that and appreciate it.”
II.
In most student teaching programs you don’t teach for the first few weeks of class. Fran suggested after the first week that I take one class period for the day as a sort of dry run before she turned over all her classes for the next four months.
I had to look at the text again. It’s good to be nervous. Just be who you are.
I picked the poem “Freddie” by Patrick Rosal, my favorite modern poet. This was who I was. This was what I loved. It was a simple poem with an ambiguous ending. It would be perfect for class discussion. I hoped.
One of the most rewarding moments of my career came on that first lesson. I have never really had problems falling or staying asleep but the night before I stood in front of the class for the first time, I was beyond tense and barely slept.
Third period was it. I sat in the back throughout second period, letting Fran’s voice wash over me while I went over my lesson and looked over the seating chart again and again. Namir front left. Atalyah second seat… Something was wrong with my stomach. There felt like there was a hole in its center and something from somewhere was seeping in. Intestines and muscle were sinking into one another and twisting within the strands of their fraying parts.
The bell for the class rang and I took another deep breath before greeting students at the door. Shit. Nervous was not the word. I could hear it in my voice and that meant that they could too. “Good morning” I kept forcing out with a faux smile to pair it with. My palms were clam digging as I rubbed my hands on my khakis. The kids shuffled in, the second bell rang, and I slowly closed the door. I walked to the front of the room and reminded myself to take another breath. As soon as I started talking I cannot describe how… comfortable I felt. Not comfortable in the normal sense of the word but comfortable in this feeling of validation that this was exactly where I was supposed to be and that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. I don’t know how to describe the relief that washed over me in that moment. Namir was generous and got the conversation going. Fran had forewarned them yesterday that I would be teaching today and soon the quizzical looks subsided. Soon some students were letting themselves get wrapped up in the writing. Were asking questions. Were diverging in interpretations. I built momentum as the lesson progressed.
This was where I belonged. Everything leading to this moment had not led me astray and I finally “fit”. Everyone deserves to find something that makes them feel that way.
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