For a multitude of reasons, this post from 2012 has been on my mind all week. Perhaps it is because I am once again reading and scoring AP essays (from home this year), or maybe because I love reminiscing about the beautiful city of Louisville, but I think it has more do with the need for civility in our discourse. Regardless of what ‘they’ are doing, I tell myself, we must continue to face the day with empathy, find our joy in creative outlets, and grant kindness where it is needed most. We must remain the country that our forefathers lived and fought and strived to be, but even more so, because we must now expand their vision to include all people. Read on my dear ones. Perhaps my words will encourage you, as you wake to yet another new day, to do so with more than hope that integrity will be restored before long.
Tag Archives: AP English Literature
AP English Lit exam, a failed School Budget and Teacher Appreciation Week
Irony interests and excites every AP English Literature teacher I know. The defying of expectation in character or plot, the twists of deception, the nuance of regret, the way shadows fall against the backdrop of romance, each singular thread pulled to create the tapestry within a novel, play or poem is what we feed upon from August to May, what we present to those hopeful students who plod through Dostoevsky and gasp over Miller, who acknowledge the majesty of Woolf and Ellison alike irregardless of their divergent settings. This week I ushered my students, those brave souls willing to sit for three hours of an exam to sift through metaphor and imagery and opposition and unlock both literal and emotional meaning and then craft their own response to texts. It is a lot to ask of anyone. I tell them I love them as I leave them under their proctor’s watch, and in that moment, I am so proud of their resolve to crack open this test and shine onward, for they are readers, now a rarity residing in our republic.
hold on to hope
In this time marked by the disintegration of morality in our politically frayed America, where hateful politicians posing as caring humans justify their inhumane practices by treating children with the cold abuse of a Nazi, we must hold on to hope. That fragile and slender of emotions that alone fuels my soul, and no doubt yours, hope, elusive yet necessary. Thankfully for me, this past week, there is the reminder, where there is love one can find hope. Of course there is the always love of family, of sunshine and water, of a cool breeze after a hard day, but in this crazy here and now, I find the love of these friends. Friends who arrived from luck yet stayed dear through the years. Without a falter, these women are there. Yes, lucky me indeed. They provide me hope to endure.
Nine Cent Girl 