Texas Bluebonnet Writing Project Blog

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Exploding the Moment (Based on Barry Lane)

Put Your Before and After Exploded Moments in Comments to this Post.

posted by Jeannine Hirtle @ 7/12/2007 12:42:00 PM  

13 Comments:

  • At 7/12/2007 12:44 PM, Blogger Rediesha Thompson said…

    BEFORE:
    I eagerly spoke to her after class, as this was my first “teacher moment” with a student, and learned that she had a learning disability.


    AFTER:
    After reading Mikala’s private note to me, and failing to continue the lesson due to my concentration being broken, I finally accepted that I would have to privately speak with her. I reached for one of my pale green sticky notes, hoping to slide it on her desk while walking around. “See me after class” I wrote. “Now all I have to do is slide it on her desk without anyone seeing.” I thought. We were taught this in college. You never single a student out in front of their peers. “You’ll always be sorry” Dr. Shiring would tell us. I walked through the aisles pretending to be monitoring, but all I wanted to do was drop this pale green sticky note off at her desk. I approached slowly, extended my hand, and stuck it to her paper. “What is this! Mikala shouted. “Oh, you want to talk to me after class? Ok.” “Well hell!” I thought. “I could have done that!” I eagerly spoke to her after class, as this was my first “teacher moment” with a student, and learned that she had a learning disability.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:45 PM, Blogger Writing Unplugged said…

    Exploding the Moment:

    Once, I gently told her -hurry dear, we are all waiting for you- and that was more than enough to make her burst into tears.


    Once, I gently told her -hurry sweetie, we are all waiting for you- and that was more than enough to make her burst into uncontrollable heaps of tears rolling down her cheeks as if a water dam had been cracked open. It happened so fast that I could not understand what just happened. It took me a while to figure out that my words must have triggered an unpleasant memory for her. With my sweetest smile and softest tone I apologized to her. –Sorry, was it something I said? I can assure you this won’t happen again-. She looked up and the water dam was once again the way it should be, closed. I think I’ve saw a glimpse of a half smile on her face.

    ~Sugey~

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:45 PM, Blogger Jolyn said…

    I went to my shelf and got this big book of 20th Century Occurrences.


    A feeling of panic coursed through my body. I thought to myself, “How do I get his attention? How do I show him?” I prayed a small prayer of deep supplication – Lord please give me wisdom. I don’t know anything about the needs of this child, yet he’s waiting on an answer. (If anyone ever wants to argue about prayer being removed from school, I could carry my own in that debate. As long as there are teachers and students, prayer prevails.) I thought to myself. What would I do if I wanted to know something about a topic about which I have no prior knowledge? I could send him to the library then I could eat what was left of my lunch in peace. I could suggest he get on the internet at home and then I could feel as he was responsible for his own work. Wait, I don’t know if he has a computer. I could ask for the advice of another teacher and get back to Charles in a couple of days when I had a better answer. All of these things were options, but Charles was waiting on an answer now – not in a couple of days. I looked behind Charles at my bookshelf of garage sale purchased books which I hoped one day would come in handy. Today seemed like the day. I went to my shelf and got this big book of 20th Century Occurrences. As I lifted the hug book from the shelf, I had immediate doubts about its ability to help, but I had to start somewhere.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:47 PM, Blogger Unknown said…

    Dianna

    Chris is the son of friends of mine. He, too, disliked Miranda intensely, and while he and his family were having dinner at our house one night, he told everyone how Miranda would abuse us verbally in class.

    It was a strange coincidence that Chris was in my class. One evening my husband was looking at my class rosters, and said “Gavora? You’ve got a Gavora. That was the name of one of my commanders at Ft. Eustis. Ask him who his dad is.”
    So I did, and Chris’s father was indeed someone my husband had briefly worked with. Much to my embarrassment, it me took about fours months before I finally invited Chris and his family over for dinner. It was President’s Day weekend.
    When they arrived, it felt a bit odd having students over for dinner, even if we were somewhat acquainted with the parents. Chris’ twin sister, who is also my student, also came, but she tends to be quiet, so the brunt of the conversation fell upon Chris and me because we are both talkative. Sonn Chris brought up the names of students in class whom he liked and disliked.
    “How do you put up with Miranda, Mrs. Trang? She is so rude to you?” asked Chris.
    “It takes every ounce of my patience, Chris. There are circumstances I am not allowed to talk about, but I can tell you that I have just about had my fill of her. Not only is she rude to me, but she is so condescending to just about everyone in class” I replied.
    Chris’s father, Bill, jumped into the conversation: “Well, what specifically does she do?”
    “Oh, you tell your dad, Chris. Just thinking about her ruins my appetite,” I moaned pitifully, hoping everyone in the room would feel sorry for me.
    Chris grinned and said, “Man, would not believe how she talks to Mrs. Trang. As if she is some kind of domestic help. She never stays in her seat--Mrs. Trang has to stop class to make her move back just about every class period. If she needs something, she never asks. She demands it, like she’ll say, ‘Excuse me. I need a pencil. I can’t take this stupid quiz without a pencil and I didn’t bring one. And she hits on every guy, except me, that is,’” eyeing his mother carefully.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:48 PM, Blogger Sherry said…

    Before: She knows it is all too easy for her.

    After: Dixie is one of those kids who seem to know something about everything. Unlike most of her peers, she actually reads the newspaper and pays attention to what’s happening in the world. I remember our first current events quiz. I had warned the class that they would be tested over news items, mostly things on the front page of the paper. Explosions, murders, tsunamis and UFO’s--surely these are the kinds of things to interest teenagers. Besides, I keep telling them, you’ll be old enough to vote in two years and you need to know what’s going on. When I first made the announcement, they complained for a solid five minutes. “I don’t get the newspaper” “Well read it online,” “I don’t have a computer” “Use the computers in the library or listen to the news on the radio” “My radio doesn’t work” “Ride to school with a friend and listen with them” “I walk to school” “Download it and listen on your Ipod” “But I’m a poor student and don’t have an Ipod.” It was endless. Still, on the appointed day, the quiz began. Five questions worth 20 points each and a bonus question. I couldn’t find much exciting news to ask about, so the bonus was a sports question—at least most of them could score an easy 20 points on that. “Number 1, Name two people running for governor of Texas. (Surely they had noticed that one of the candidates was named Kinky). Number 2, What new drug has become a big problem across the Metroplex?” and so on. As a bonus, they got to name the new quarterback for the Cowboys. I repeated the questions, then we exchanged papers for discussion and a trade and grade. I could see Dixie’s big smile of satisfaction. Where other papers had blanks, hers was filled, and she not only knew Rick Perry and Kinky, she also named Chris Bell and Carole Keaton Strayhorn.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:50 PM, Blogger Christine said…

    Before: One day, Matthew decided to sit under the desk to read, declaring it was much easier to read in the dark.

    After: Within five minutes, Matthew began to renovate his under-desk into a makeshift reading fort, duct taping his filthy coat as a curtain covering the one exposed side. In a class of quiet readers, tape ripping caught everyone’s attention. Eyebrows arched I walked over to see what he was up to. The class was tracing my every move, though pretending to be reading their novel assignment. Crouching down I pulled back a corner of the coat/curtain and underneath was a blonde shadow sitting cross-legged holding his novel in one hand illuminated by the crude flashlight he previously designed in science class as part of our electrical circuits unit. I whispered, “What are you up to down here?” “I’m reading chapter 7 like you asked us to. I read better in the dark.” He quickly turned his attention back to his book. For the first time all year, Matthew was actually completing an independent reading assignment without giving some excuse or using a stalling tactic. I thought to myself, “Whatever works!” which I had heard one of my education professors say repeatedly. She was a really wise lady.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:50 PM, Blogger Sessamalie said…

    Old Moment:
    It was Lance and his mother. They were cleaning out Lance’s locker.

    Exploded Moment:
    Walking back to my classroom, my last stop before retreating home for the evening, I came upon a parent and child in the otherwise cavernous hallway. Lance and his mother stood amid a minefield of papers, books, clothing, pencils, pens, and broken crayons. Over and over, he reached into his locker to pull out an item from his hoard. The cleaning was systematic. Lance placed things meant to be saved on the floor while trash went in the plastic bag his mother held open in her outstretched hands. Despite his grand size, he looked small, cowering under his mother’s disapproving gaze. His hunched shoulders signaled defeat. His mother lorded over him, letting out sigh after exasperated sigh as he deconstructed the malaise in his locker.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:56 PM, Blogger RBoyd said…

    After I finished reading the chapter I asked the simple question of “How would you have acted if you were Ralph?” and naturally hands shot up like rockets all around the room. Yes, I thought they are really going to participate. “Garret what would you have done?” I would have raced away in the car and never returned home again!” the sound of laughter up roared among the class as I even had to giggle at the thought of that. I felt as if the entire class was enjoying answering this simple, basic, and “can’t be wrong” question. A little light bulb went off in my head … maybe I should call on Celeste, this would be an easy answer for her to give so that she would start to gain confidence in herself. Bingo… “Celeste, how about you?” She turned and looked at me as if I had just ran over her favorite dog, Leo and crushed her soul to the size of a pomegranate seed. Like a well-oiled machine her head begin to be pulled down by the heaviest weight of all, her lack of confidence, and embarrassment of her drastic learning disability. My heart sank to what I thought at the moment, was a bottomless pit of inconsideration. “How could I have put her on the spot like that?” How am I going to fix this step backwards that I just made?

     

  • At 7/12/2007 12:58 PM, Blogger Heather said…

    BEFORE: When it was just her and me, she’d tell me some snippet about what her father was going through- another check up, another bout of chemo, etc.

    AFTER:
    One afternoon, I was sitting on the curb outside our concrete playground standing guard over the fifth grade class. It was an Indian summer day in early December. Even for Texas, this heat was out of the ordinary. The sun shined brightly down and there was not a trace of wind in the air. The students’ skin was flushed from the heat and I could see the glisten of sweat across their faces. Two little girls, Aisha and Alexa, had taken refuge from the suns’ unwavering gleam to sit in the shadows next to me. They were in a heated discussion about the kickball game taking place in front of us. I looked up as I saw Ashley walk over to us. Her shoulders were slumped as if she was holding the weight of the world on her skinny little shoulders. Her face was flushed with the heat, but there was no animation in her face. “Are you okay, Ashley?” I asked. I bet it’s another fight with one of the girls”, I thought to myself. Maintaining a friendship in fifth grade was quite a lot of hard work. “No,” Ashley softly replied. She looked up as if she was going to say more, but cast a look at the other two girls and put her head back down. She bent down with a sigh and sat down next to me. I gave her a pat on the back and a smile, but left her alone. I observed the other two girls animatedly talking about the game. They seemed so carefree compared to Ashley. I looked over at Ashley again. She looked up at me and said, “My dad has another Cat Scan today.” “Really?” I asked cautiously. I had learned in these past few months that she could care less what I had to say. She just needed me to listen. “Yeah. They need to see if the cancer’s spread.” Ashley said. My heart broke at the reality of her world. Alexa had stopped watching the kickball game and was eavesdropping on our conversation. Alexa looked at Ashley and then looked at me. A worried look crossed her face. She beckoned me with her finger. I leaned over to her curious as to what she wanted. “Ms. Haagen? “ She whispered. “Is he going to die?” My heart sank as I heard her question. Alexa’s voice was quiet, but I was sure Ashley had heard. Ashley squared her shoulders as if she was reaching into her inner reserve of strength. She looked at Alexa and caught her eye. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, he might die.”

     

  • At 7/12/2007 1:00 PM, Blogger pat huster said…

    Last week my husband and I went to see Live Free or Die Hard and, as usual, I ran into a parent. That’s what happens when you live and teach in the same town.

    The lady sitting next to me gazed into my face and said, “You’re a teacher at CMS, right?”

    Thoughts zigzagged across my brain. Do I have a giant scarlet T stamped on my forehead, or is it that bleary-eyed teacher look I can’t get rid of? I just wanted to spend a nice, quiet evening with my hubby. Okay, Die Hard won’t exactly be quiet. Skip and I just wanted alone time with dinner and a little beverage. I had a full glass of wine in my hands transporting it slowly to my lips. Drat, why am I drinking wine now? Why am I at a movie theater? Why did I leave the house?

    “Yes, I’m Pat Huster and you are?”

    “I’m Ashley Sexton’s mom. I just wanted you to know that you changed her life.”

    I think I found another moment to explode right here.
    She told me that I had changed her daughter’s life. Before walking into my classroom, Ashley hated to read. I, her mom said, showed her how great books can be and all that can be gained from them. She spends all of her birthday money on new books. I have to admit that I cried a bit sitting there in the movie theater, good thing it was dark.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 1:01 PM, Blogger teachtoinspire said…

    Before

    The room when silent and all eyes were fixed on my every move. I walked over to Gaby and leaned over and put my hand on her shoulder and then like a roaring cascade the tears overflowed her checks and dripped onto the desk






    After

    The room went silent and all eyes were fixed on my every move as I took each step I could hear the throbbing beats of each heart get louder and louder as I drew near Gaby. As I reach out, the chorus of the beating sounds began to diminish into silence. Softly my hand touched her shoulder and then like a roaring cascade tears overflowed her checks and splattered onto the hard surfaced desk.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 1:08 PM, Blogger Janelle said…

    Original Sentence:
    He patiently waited for me to finish with a student ahead of him.

    Exploded Moment:
    He stood changing his weight from one leg to another, his hand on his hip. Then, he swizzled some papers on my desk. I glared at him without moving my head. He immediately stopped and grinned, turning the corners of his mouth towards his bright eyes. He began to look around the classroom, swinging his paper up and down just to pass the time.

     

  • At 7/12/2007 1:08 PM, Blogger Kinderbeanie :) said…

    Before Explosion:"Wooga here?" I remember when the saggin', sideways-hat-wearing young man came saundering into the room.

    AFTER Explosion: “Wooga here?” I remember the young man who was saggin’, blingin’ and had a grill that a very high end orthodontist would use to finance a fancy-smanchy trip to somewhere far and exotic—well, this young man came slowly striding with that limp-walk thing that eventually got him into Room 100 wearing a sideways hat. He was so skinny that he would have whooshed away with a strong wind. He sort of posed before asking this “wooga question” and he seemed more or less to have remained frozen in time.

     

Post a Comment

<< Home