2013 Meme: Topic # 3
Jan. 11th, 2013 07:42 pmDay 3: What's worse, the fact that kids these days wear baggy pants, or that they won't get off my damn lawn?
This topic is hard for me. First, I am a terrible literalist. I like the way![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
springheel_jack approached it, but I think that being a middle school teacher just gets in the way of that. I literally see baggy pants (well, not in the English sense... just the American and possibly Canadian sense?) all day long. I used to be around screaming teenagers on their homeward commute after school, on the bus, before I had a car. That experience very much lent itself to the 'please get off my damn lawn,' feeling, though I live in an apartment. Normally, though... youth fashion doesn't bother me at all, though I find it hard to view it as aesthetically PLEASING to me. I can't get excited about 500 gym shoes with marginal differences, or track suits and athletic team jerseys as couture. But it doesn't BOTHER me. It's not that I'd rather see kids wearing something else, exactly. (This is a bit sad to admit, but I sort of like how my niece looks in her hella boring Oakland school uniform -- khaki pants or a khaki skirt, a white shirt of some sort, and/or a navy shirt, I guess? She wears clothes well, though, so probably anything would look good on her.)
The off the lawn thing... well... sometimes. God, sometimes after a tiring day at work, yes, I feel crotchety as hell. But not today, thankfully. I am having a good time, for the most part, right now, teaching how to write an argumentative essay (responding to a piece of literature, in this case, the adaptation of "A Christmas Carol" as a play with 31 parts! Almost every kid in my class had lines! Only from their seats; we didn't memorize the script and act it out. Still). I was schooled to within an inch of my life on the organization of a five paragraph essay in high school, and I am happily forcing that method on my hapless students. But I think it works well, rigid cage that it is. Once you learn the rigid cage, though, you can fly free, yet stay on topic.
I. Introductory paragraph with thesis statement
II. Body Paragraph 1
Topic Sentence
generalization introducing evidence
detail (e.g., at this point, quote from source)
explanation (aka, analysis, commentary)
transition
g
d
e
tr
g
d
e
tr
Concluding Sentence
III. Body Paragraph 2, see above
IV. Body Paragraph 3, see above
V. Concluding paragraph
All the hard upfront work is done on a three by three rectangular grid, a G-D-E sheet, and then if necessary they add some transitions and maybe a Topic sentence with transitional language and a concluding sentence, and voila. It's kind of instant mix, add water, but as I say, if they learn it well enough, then they can evade it and write better than it.
But I've certainly gotten off topic right now! Ha. Anyway, it's somewhat fun to teach this in a writer's workshoppy kind of way, with kids scribbling furiously on those forms and then checking with me and getting immediate feedback. I don't get as much time as I'd like to interact with kids one-on-one, and they are like thirsty plants drinking up the focused attention.
This topic is hard for me. First, I am a terrible literalist. I like the way
springheel_jack approached it, but I think that being a middle school teacher just gets in the way of that. I literally see baggy pants (well, not in the English sense... just the American and possibly Canadian sense?) all day long. I used to be around screaming teenagers on their homeward commute after school, on the bus, before I had a car. That experience very much lent itself to the 'please get off my damn lawn,' feeling, though I live in an apartment. Normally, though... youth fashion doesn't bother me at all, though I find it hard to view it as aesthetically PLEASING to me. I can't get excited about 500 gym shoes with marginal differences, or track suits and athletic team jerseys as couture. But it doesn't BOTHER me. It's not that I'd rather see kids wearing something else, exactly. (This is a bit sad to admit, but I sort of like how my niece looks in her hella boring Oakland school uniform -- khaki pants or a khaki skirt, a white shirt of some sort, and/or a navy shirt, I guess? She wears clothes well, though, so probably anything would look good on her.)The off the lawn thing... well... sometimes. God, sometimes after a tiring day at work, yes, I feel crotchety as hell. But not today, thankfully. I am having a good time, for the most part, right now, teaching how to write an argumentative essay (responding to a piece of literature, in this case, the adaptation of "A Christmas Carol" as a play with 31 parts! Almost every kid in my class had lines! Only from their seats; we didn't memorize the script and act it out. Still). I was schooled to within an inch of my life on the organization of a five paragraph essay in high school, and I am happily forcing that method on my hapless students. But I think it works well, rigid cage that it is. Once you learn the rigid cage, though, you can fly free, yet stay on topic.
I. Introductory paragraph with thesis statement
II. Body Paragraph 1
Topic Sentence
generalization introducing evidence
detail (e.g., at this point, quote from source)
explanation (aka, analysis, commentary)
transition
g
d
e
tr
g
d
e
tr
Concluding Sentence
III. Body Paragraph 2, see above
IV. Body Paragraph 3, see above
V. Concluding paragraph
All the hard upfront work is done on a three by three rectangular grid, a G-D-E sheet, and then if necessary they add some transitions and maybe a Topic sentence with transitional language and a concluding sentence, and voila. It's kind of instant mix, add water, but as I say, if they learn it well enough, then they can evade it and write better than it.
But I've certainly gotten off topic right now! Ha. Anyway, it's somewhat fun to teach this in a writer's workshoppy kind of way, with kids scribbling furiously on those forms and then checking with me and getting immediate feedback. I don't get as much time as I'd like to interact with kids one-on-one, and they are like thirsty plants drinking up the focused attention.