Janie Slaven: THE TEACHER'S DESK: Making Connections
Feb. 8—Never has a hot cup of coffee been as welcome as on these cold mornings sitting at my desk. On these mornings I put on my big, old, gray sweater as I sit down in my captain's chair to orchestrate the day's lessons. I call it my "Old Man" sweater.
This morning, I pull the thick wool collar up as I regard a memoir I will be sharing with the class. The story resides in my tattered teacher's text, and I love the smell of the book as it flops open.
Once again, it is dark outside and the school is silent, but I can hear the young voice of the resilient protagonist as I turn the pages laden with his inspiring story.
The memoir is remarkable and inspiring. It seems the beauty in humanity often shines the brightest through clouds of suffering. From the onset of the memoir, I am enamored with the main character's circumstance and how, sadly, it is the people caring for him that cause him the most pain.
The story is called "Typhoid Fever," and it is an excerpt from the memoir Angela's Ashes, by Frank McCourt. The story is about a 10-year-old Frank residing in a fever hospital in Ireland during the 1930s. He is an observant and kind young boy who is woefully bedridden from typhoid.
This lonely little guy is monitored by pious nurses that forbid him from talking to other patients, or even laughing. And singing is an absolute sin. The nurses are unabashedly cruel and you can openly see that the story is about oppression and how people respond to it.
In the story, beyond the boy's illogical restrictions and the blinding cubicle curtain, an intrepid voice breaks the silence. "Yoo hoo, boy with the typhoid, are you awake?"
Frank is awake, and the young Patricia Madigan gives him gifts of words and poems that transcend the suffering he is imprisoned in. I immediately love the girl's character, and just as much, I love Frank for recognizing her magic.
Consequently, any lesson I teach, I try to bring in real-world relevance. While this concept is an educational requirement of sorts, it also makes basic sense. Students and people make connections from what they already know to grow, adding on to that prior knowledge. Add to the schema Mr. Theodore.
Contextually, before I begin introducing the memoir, I suspect that many of my students will be bored with the details of a typhoid pandemic in Ireland in the 1930s. What they do not know now, but might know later, is that those stories that stick with us are not just about the characters we read on the pages, they are about us.
As a result, before we begin reading the memoir, I am going to present a writing prompt to my students. I call these infamous prompts "Connections." I am going to ask them if there was ever a time during the COVID 19 Pandemic that they were subject to illogical requests. I am sure I will get a plethora of answers, but I am looking for that empathy that will connect them to the story we are about to read.
Regarding COVID, I think we all have a story. Mine range from ridiculous to tragic, which I think is similar to what young Frank goes through in the story. I mean who tells a sick kid he can't laugh?
Circumstance can be a monster, and many times it creates opportunity for others to be cruel. This was the case with poor young Frank; However, his spirit and sense of humor outshined his oppressors. That takes strength.
I love a good story in the morning.
Brian Theodore is a language arts teacher at Corbin High School and lives in Corbin with his wife, who is also a teacher at CHS. He can be contacted at Theteachersdesk.theodore@gmail.com.
