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Sep. 28th, 2011 10:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_rainetteI often joke about how afraid I am of falling at skating, mostly because I am deeply afraid of breaking a bone. First because it hurts a lot, obvioulsy, but also because a cast would make my everyday life really really difficult, especially with the kids' extra-curricular activities (skating, skating, skating, EVENING OFF OMG, skating, oh look choir, skating, skating).
A cast would not make working impossible, though. It would be complicated, of course, but I could still work if I had temporarily lost the use of a limb. The one thing I cannot afford to lose, as a teacher, is my voice. My voice is my primary tool in the classroom.
Ahahahahahaha you know where this is going, right? Right. I have a bad coold that's settled on my lungs, and now I have lost my voice. I am staying home today in the desperate hope that resting my voice will make it better, because else I might have to think about going to the doctor's and ask for a cortisone treatment. As I told a friend yesterday evening, the only way I could still teach today would be if I bought a whistle and taught the kids in Morse code. Of course this implies that I'd have to learn Morse code first.
Have you ever noticed how when you whisper to people, they whisper right back to you?
Rainette *whispers to supply teacher*: so these are the maths sheets
supply teacher *whispers*: and that's for the afternoon?
rainette *whispers*: what?
supply teacher *moves closer but keeps whispering in the (empty) classroom*: we do maths in the afternoon?
rainette *coughs up half a lung*
supply teacher *jumps back OMG*
It's that kind of day. People don't know if they should come close to me (I whisper) or stay as far away as they possibly can (I cough). Except for Tadpole, who 1) likes hugs, dammit, and 2) passed the cold on to me in the first place.
Yesterday the kids in my class coloured pictures for a colouring contest (don't ask) and all the little girls picked the princess. It broke my heart a little to watch all my little Congolese girls run for the yellow pencil for the hair, the pink pencil for the skin, the blue pencil for the eyes, like this is the only viable option for a princess. I want them to know that they can be princesses, too. That they are princesses.
It made me think of Chimamanda Adichie's speech on TED: the danger of a single story, so I thought I'd repost it in the off-chance that one of you hasn't seen it yet. Also, if you don't know what to read next, consider putting Half of a Yellow Sun on your reading list. You will learn a lot aboput African history (Nigeria and Biafra in particular) in the course of a beautiful and complex human story.
A cast would not make working impossible, though. It would be complicated, of course, but I could still work if I had temporarily lost the use of a limb. The one thing I cannot afford to lose, as a teacher, is my voice. My voice is my primary tool in the classroom.
Ahahahahahaha you know where this is going, right? Right. I have a bad coold that's settled on my lungs, and now I have lost my voice. I am staying home today in the desperate hope that resting my voice will make it better, because else I might have to think about going to the doctor's and ask for a cortisone treatment. As I told a friend yesterday evening, the only way I could still teach today would be if I bought a whistle and taught the kids in Morse code. Of course this implies that I'd have to learn Morse code first.
Have you ever noticed how when you whisper to people, they whisper right back to you?
Rainette *whispers to supply teacher*: so these are the maths sheets
supply teacher *whispers*: and that's for the afternoon?
rainette *whispers*: what?
supply teacher *moves closer but keeps whispering in the (empty) classroom*: we do maths in the afternoon?
rainette *coughs up half a lung*
supply teacher *jumps back OMG*
It's that kind of day. People don't know if they should come close to me (I whisper) or stay as far away as they possibly can (I cough). Except for Tadpole, who 1) likes hugs, dammit, and 2) passed the cold on to me in the first place.
Yesterday the kids in my class coloured pictures for a colouring contest (don't ask) and all the little girls picked the princess. It broke my heart a little to watch all my little Congolese girls run for the yellow pencil for the hair, the pink pencil for the skin, the blue pencil for the eyes, like this is the only viable option for a princess. I want them to know that they can be princesses, too. That they are princesses.
It made me think of Chimamanda Adichie's speech on TED: the danger of a single story, so I thought I'd repost it in the off-chance that one of you hasn't seen it yet. Also, if you don't know what to read next, consider putting Half of a Yellow Sun on your reading list. You will learn a lot aboput African history (Nigeria and Biafra in particular) in the course of a beautiful and complex human story.
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Date: 2011-09-28 04:25 pm (UTC)-J
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Date: 2011-09-28 04:37 pm (UTC)Hofpefully I'll be better tomorrow though! I don't want to stay away for too long (and I'd still have to go to school and get stuff ready for a substitute teacher anyways, which is a pain)
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Date: 2011-09-28 11:28 pm (UTC)Thank you, thank you, thank you.
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Date: 2011-09-29 01:27 pm (UTC)