What Do I Do With This?

I'm conflicted after class tonight. My students' assignment was to read a measly 5 page excerpt from Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. It was arguably the easiest and definitely the shortest reading of the semester. Without getting into too much detail, I had an in-class activity planned and I wanted the students to process some ideas in writing, to help the thought process for the small-group interaction they would have afterwards. I told them not to think of it as a quiz, but rather a warm-up exercise. Trust me, if they did the reading, it wasn't hard. At the top of the page there was a brief paragraph quoted from the reading, and the instructions that appear in the image below. Take a look at my instructions, and this student's response.

I had them complete an additional piece of reading in class as they finished this activity. While they read the article, I read their papers. About halfway through the stack I came to this one. At first I smiled. This student is a decent student. I wouldn't say a star, but generally responsible and most of the time attentive. My initial reaction was, at least she's honest about it and I continued through the stack. I had a great class, the activity went well, and there was some good debate. Then I left.

As I was walking to my car I started to get a little annoyed thinking about it. Was I supposed to congratulate her for being honest? Is that her way of apologizing for blowing off the reading? I gotta say, the more I thought about it, the more it felt like entitlement. As long as I tell her the truth, it won't be a big deal. It's kind of like the forced apology by the mean kid at recess, who really has not remorse. It was like shooting me a bird to my face, rather than behind my back. Never mind that a good teacher at any level can usually smell the bullshit a mile away. We can read in the responses those who did the reading and those who are good at hiding the fact they hadn't. And of course it doesn't even take a good teacher to recognize those who clearly don't do the reading. Why not try?

This all left me thinking, what the hell am I supposed to do with this? Am I supposed to take pity on her? Am I supposed to be impressed with her honesty? I have to admit, I'm not impressed and I don't feel bad for her. My husband said she should respect me and my class enough to at least try and bullshit a response. I'm not sure I agree with that either.

All I know is this. I work full time and teach at the university. I write for a daily blog as well as a monthly blog. I have a family. And I come prepared to work, both jobs. I would never admit to my boss I was not prepared, because I would never be unprepared. I don't mean to sound callus or judgmental, but I guess I am. Why the heck did she write this to me? What do I do with this?

Student Poetry Showcase

This post honors the work of my college students who graciously participated in a class activity during which they created found poetry out of their favorite phrases and words from The Everglades: River of Grass by Marjory Stoneman Douglas. For more details, read yesterday's post. I am not sharing their names because I have written about my experiences in my classroom and wouldn't want to invade anyone's privacy by providing a link back to specific names. I did however, ask their permission to share their work. Though none of this writing is my own, I feel as though it is all birthed from my passion and love for nature and writing, and how I chose to share them both in this way with my students. I am very proud of their work- remember it isn't an English or Creative Writing class. I can't share all 24, but here are a few. Enjoy.

Image from trek earth.com

The Evercycle

Half way down that thrusting sea-bound peninsula.
Grass and water together make the river.
Its stringy and grainy dullness glitters with the myriad unrotted silica points, like glass dust.
To try and make ones way among these impenetrable tufts is to be cut off from air.
Clouds fill with their steely haze and leave only outline of the visible world.
Water falls solid, in sheets, in cascades.
The sawgrass and all those acres of green growing things draw up the water within their cells, use it, and breathe it out again

A Typical Tuesday Night

The Everglades begin at Lake Okeechobee

Saw grass reaches up both sides of that lake in great enclosing arms

Its stands drying to old gold, ready to burst into those red flames

Winds slash before them and the rains roar down, making all the saw grass somber

The lion-colored light shuts down as the rain does

Fiery Glade

Wetness that is sweet among salt
tiny hidden blossoms, luminous in the darkness,
give way to mile high pillars of orange light, roily tangerine
spears thrust into the burning brass
rolling clouds of heavy cream against a hyacinth sky
thin screaming hordes bend in the west wind
they bow, they burn
the fierce fire, lord, power and first cause over the Everglades

The Failing Flame

Rains fall from a vicious white and grey sky

The water winks and flashes 

Saw Grass reaches on both sides

The boiling red flames crackle

The grass yields nothing to the blaze

The Spring rains put out the fires

The River of Time
A man standing in the center of it, if he could get there would be lost in the saw grass.
The green things never quite dry out;
They were changeless, they are the changed.
There are no other Everglades in the world.

Here the rain is everything.
Of air-loving life only a little way out of the salt water,
Grows the Caribbean pine.
They became legendary.

The water is timeless forever new and eternal.
A swampy amorphous depression;
The ever flowing river of time.
The Everglades.

Image from everglades-wilderness-waterway.com