After a long as hell 10 weeks of read this and summarize, read this and reflect, read this and debate, read this and discuss (and I know you may only be speaking out loud because participation is an actual grade in the class) we finally get to the juicy goodness of the last 2 weeks. This is where everyone writes about themselves. We love it right? I mean we have been reading everyone else's writing for ages (or 10 weeks) and now we get to say more than just a paragraph about what we think.
"I know I'm ready to jump right in...aren't you all? These stories are good stuff!"
Blank stares and nervous jitters are complemented by the inevitable question of "So like what are we supposed to actually write about?"
I used to sigh in exasperation and stare back for a sec. Now, after five consecutive years of this, I smile and say "Who wants to fill us in?" And behold! There are always at least three people who answer through gritted teeth and eye rolls. I always fall in love with whoever says "READ the DIRECTIONS."
So I am looking at stuff to read. Mind you I like variety so I decide to bring in the big guns:
We go right for Junot Diaz's
MISS LORA and I explain that it is fiction, but reads like a journal entry so why not look at it first? Then we look at an excerpt of
DRY by Augusten Burroughs and of course we hit up Sedaris'
ME TALK PRETTY ONE DAY which after Diaz and Burroughs seems a little tame, but inevitably someone giggles at his exaggerated lisp when we hear the audio.
Looking at my chosen titles, I love what I see. Wit, humor, sarcasm, blunt honesty and pain. It isn't often that I get the responses I would like to hear. People are still afraid to curse in class (after ten fuckin weeks with me...imagine?!) but I press on.
So this morning we talk about the readings. And it seems nobody has read them except for two painfully shy kids who look like hives are about to bust out of the sheen of sweat glistening on their brows. SO I go for it: "I know you two have read the stories, so tell us what you think." One says he didn't read it, and the other goes, "I don't even know what the fuck to say... I mean, shit...I'm speechless"
BRAVO when they get to the point of at least knowing it's okay to reiterate vocabulary from the text.
That said, I look forward to one more session of this tomorrow where the class will likely share their red faced chagrin and MAYBE one or two will break the pattern and earn those 20 participation points. But I guess that's the beauty of this. Always a different story and always room, for what it depends on the campus, the season and the ballsy factor to start. I can't wait for Summer when our angry inner bitches come out! Man do they have good stories.
Hope the end of your semester is as much fun as mine!
Memoir & Prenatal Massages
K
