School Protest

Well, that didn't work out so well. We spent a whole month learning about protest--its hazards and limitations and occasional triumphs, (Isn't it awful--about Syria? That country needs our prayers.) and what happened at school today? The students had caught a whiff that the Friday afternoon activity was related to the literature selections of the month. During lunch they staged a march around the teachers' lunch table--homemade signs on broomsticks held aloft, and improvised placards tucked into the covers of view binder notebooks, held high.

"We are the 99%." (You Occupiers, you . . . )

"We Need Sunshine. Not Literature."

"Volleyball. Not Literature"

"Give me liberty or give me death." (Not original. Overly dramatic.)

No, no. Wrong take-away lesson. Better than riots or sedition, but still wrong.

"Aren't Friday afternoon activities supposed to be fun? Aren't they supposed to be student planned?" This from a sophomore.

"I have a history lesson for you," I informed him. "When I came, Friday afternoon activities consisted of films. I got a catalog to choose from. They all looked boring and the scheduling looked impossible and I never got into it. (How did I get by with this under-par performance?) So we did other things--PE every other week, etc. Then we started doing Literature and Current Events stuff on Friday afternoons--till Harry and Wendell both left and Andrew came and the two of us eventually ran out of ideas and steam. So we got the students to help us. We assigned two of them every week to come up with something for everyone to do. Later, when Mr. Schrock came, we did some student-planned activities and some teacher-planned ones. Last year we started another series, asking specifically that students share/demonstrate something about their life outside of school--skills, passions, talents, etc. So you see, it's never been really focused on having fun. It's just happened sometimes along the way." (I actually can't quite remember what I said, but something like this.)

"Oh. That makes sense."

Later, on Gox Box (our Amish-crafted instant messaging system between teachers), I told Wes about the conversation with the student. "I hope he evangelizes his neighbors," he answered.

The whole protest was [almost] all in good spirits, and not a real problem.

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I wish the students knew how lucky they are. Today the unflappable Mr. Schrock continued his introduction of A Tale of Two Cities. He had prepared some terrific study helps and read excerpts from the book, and added tidbits of history and things to watch for, asked leading questions, and in a dozen ways helped prepare the students for a good reading experience. His college major was literature, and he's really good at making literature memorable and interesting. Mutiny is a totally inappropriate response to such generous offerings.

There was more inappropriate behavior, now that I think of it. Inattention and intentional diversions during the literature session, ignoring my request for help on assembling Rural Roots booklets "because I don't feel like it," sneaking off to McDonalds after school without the benefit of parental permission. . . Yessir. A weekend for cooling the jets and stoking the revival fires--out of the classrooms and into their homes. Good timing.

On the other hand, Kristyne sweetly offered to set up the Rural Roots display tonight at their church, and she's not even in the composition class. Lillian diligently scrubbed and mopped the typing room till it shone. Several of the comp students came to help of their own volition--without having to be summoned. Matthew and Ruth brought a wonderful hot lunch. The school choir is sounding better all the time--so good I could cry. I learned about tomorrow's "Gathering for Gardeners" today, in time to go tomorrow. I don't know how I missed all the advance notices. Hiromi wants to go too--a first.

Dan Schrag, a 90-year old brother from church fell and broke his hip, and the surgery to insert three screws could be done with incisions small enough not to need stitches. He ate a good breakfast this morning. He also has dementia, so his care could be a real challenge, but the surgery he had sounds so much better than the initial report we heard: he needs a partial hip replacement.

Marian was here so I came home to a clean house. Hiromi had put the chicken for supper into the oven and it was roasted to perfection when I got home. He had put away the groceries too.

I took a few snatches of time during the day to read A Tale of Two Cities, and savored the words Dickens uses so masterfully. And now that I've almost run out of things to protest, I'm taking the book to bed with me--so as to end the day with a good thing. I'll leave the protest to the Syrians--and the Pilgrim students.