Sir Gawain and 10th Grade Boys

 "Never forget that you're teaching the students, not the subject."

I'd heard teachers say this my whole life and mentally assented, but now, after several years in the classroom, I get it in a whole different way. 

In my current job, I teach three rounds of the exact same lesson plan each day. As much as I may love my material (and I do love a lot of it), even I can admit that it could get boring fast, especially the third time around. 

But it doesn't, because even though the material is familiar to me, it's always new to my students. And I can never know for sure how they will respond. Sure, I can predict and prepare and attempt to lead them to a particular response to the subject. I can generally predict which students will make profound comments, connections that I might not even have thought of. But when it all comes down to it, I don't know what any of my students will say when they raise their hand and I call on them. Sometimes we will be in the middle of a great and (I think) captivating discussion. I'll call on an astute student who's had his hand up, and instead of making an insightful comment, he'll ask to go to the bathroom. Other times, the students who usually spout banalities will actually have something really interesting to contribute. I truly never know what to expect - and that's what keeps this interesting. 

In 10th grade Medieval Literature, we started the semester off with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which is such a fun book to teach. It includes elements of the eerie and supernatural (one of the first scenes is a giant green knight getting beheaded, picking his head up off the floor, issuing a challenge to his assailant, and galloping from the scene on a green horse). But it also includes a lot of questions about reputation vs. character, best intentions vs. actions, obvious temptation that we avoid and insidious temptation that hamstrings us before we know what's happened. 

The central episode of the book involves Sir Gawain, our hero, visiting a castle and being accosted early in the morning on three successive days by the wife of his host. She is ravishingly beautiful, skimpily dressed, and very obviously throwing herself at Gawain, who has to walk a fine line between maintaining his virtue and not offending his host and hostess in a very remote location. 

This is a fun lesson to teach. 

I usually start off by sitting on some poor 10th grade boy's desk and getting a little too close for his comfort - just close enough to make him uncomfortable and to make his classmates laugh, but nothing inappropriate. I then remind them that this discomfort is NOTHING compared to what Gawain is facing, in his bed in his skivvies early in the morning with his ravishingly beautiful married hostess almost literally pinning him down so he can't just run. 

Then I ask them what they would do if they were Sir Gawain. 

"Remind her politely that she's already married." (He tried that and it didn't work.)

"Politely ask her to leave, and if she doesn't, firmly assist her from the room." (That would be great, but he's not decently attired, which makes this a complicated endeavor.)

"Wrap the sheet around himself and run!" (Like Joseph with Potiphar's wife. Oh wait, five of my students don't know this story. We can't have that. Brief segue to recap the story of Joseph and Potiphar's wife.)

In my third class of the day, with my supervisor in the room for my formal observation, one of the students I enjoy the most for his confidence and engagement and complete unpredictability, stands up, shrugs his shoulders, grins (I know it's impish, even beneath the mask), and says "I mean...well..."

I prompt him to use his words please. 

"Well...I mean..." he shrugs again, "I'd probably just go with the flow." 

"Go with the flow how? Like Gawain did? Walking the line between courteousness and virtue and somehow pulling it off?"

He shrugs and grins again. "I mean...well...it's consent..."

Split second of silence, and then I hear a short burst of laughter from my supervisor. Bless her - she's taught high schoolers for years and raised three of them - nothing takes her by surprise. Then the class is metaphorically in an uproar. Laughing, incredulous, sheepishly agreeing, attacking the spokesperson, who can totally handle it. 

I'm laughing too, rolling my eyes, and thanking the Lord for the opportunity to engage with these crazy, dear, thoughtful teenagers. This is my kind of conversation. 

"Ok...well, by our culture's standards, unfortunately, that's all that's required to make this acceptable. But what's wrong with this?"

Classmates chime in.

"She's married!"

So?

"It's against the code of chivalry!"

"It could hurt Gawain on his quest!"

"Rumors could spread and ruin his reputation!"

I nod, affirm the answers, and ask, "What else?"

Crickets. 

"Y'all. Chivalry is a cultural code that we left behind hundreds of years ago. If this were just about violating the code of chivalry, then if Gawain lived today, it would be totally acceptable for him to "go with the flow." After all, in our culture, consenting adults basically get to do whatever they want. But culture doesn't determine morality. God does. And God says over and over again throughout the Bible that adultery is wrong. Period. That's what's so dangerous about this situation. The Lady isn't just tempting him to violate a cultural code; she's tempting him to violate the law of God."

They have quieted down now, and they're listening. But I can see that they still think this is just about Gawain and a lady in some long-ago, far away castle. 

So I tell them, "Y'all. This is about us. You might never have thought about this, but I'll tell you straight: many of the people I respect most in the world have been 'propositioned' at some point in their lives. And they had to decide how to respond. Were they going to slip into that sin and excuse it, or were they going to stay committed to their morals? We're all going to face times like this, and it might not be nearly as obvious as the Lady was."

Now I have their complete attention. I can see them processing. Thinking. This was an unexpected turn. So I let it sink in, and then I move on to the next part of the lesson. 

I don't teach the subject. I teach the students. I truly never know what my students will say, or what avenue of conversation will open up on any given day. 

In the world of literature, we talk often about the idea of cultivating a moral imagination. It's the idea that moral formation is about so much more than a list of do's and don'ts. It's about helping students imagine what it would be like to be in morally complicated situations, and then giving them the opportunities to see how protagonists respond to those situations. Sometimes the protagonists do the right thing; sometimes they don't. Either way, it gives the students a safe space to think through the ramifications of different responses to different kinds of situations. Then, hopefully, that will cultivate their ability and desire to act rightly in their own lives. Will any of my students be accosted in a castle by a ravishingly beautiful medieval woman? Nope. But might they face situations at college parties or later in life that are equally morally compromising? Yep. And my hope is that this conversation will stick for some of my students, and that when they end up in those situations, they will remember not only the biblical commandments about sexual purity, but also the example of people like Sir Gawain, who remained steadfast in a very sticky situation.

But the beautiful thing about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is that while it's about moral fortitude, it also deals with moral failure. Gawain stays faithful when up against the Lady's temptation, but he falls in another way later in the book. He is crushed. But rather than staying crushed, he humbles himself, admits his mistake, and vows to always wear a memento of his sin to keep him humble. Gawain went on to accomplish many daring feats and adventures, but rather than getting puffed up by pride, he remembered his human frailty and depended on the character of his Savior rather than his own gleaming reputation. That, too, is something I hope my students will remember when they fail. I hope they will confess, repent, remember, and move forward to do great things in the grace of God. 

Things I Learned This Month | February 2018

Franz Marc | "Deer in the Snow II" | 1911

Greetings from Munich, where we are facing a Siberian cold front (literally)! I thought I was used to cold winters from four years in Chicago, but I've come to accept that I will never be used to sub-zero temperatures. It doesn't help that my apartment has insulation from decades ago, which means that however high the heat is blasting, it's been hovering around 60 degrees Fahrenheit here. Brrr! I'm super grateful for wool sweaters and tea and fuzzy blankets. But according to the weather forecast, it's supposed to rise above freezing in the next couple of days. Hurray!

Enough griping about cold weather. Once again, it's the end of a month and I'm following Emily Freeman's lead and continuing my ritual of sharing a handful of the things that I learned this month.



1. There is a ballet adaptation of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

Can you imagine? I can't. This week I used the whitewashing the fence story at school, and I ended up discovering all sorts of interesting things...

2. Mark Twain went bankrupt at one point in his life, because he had a penchant for investing in inventions that never took off. 

After he got back on his feet, he insisted on paying off all his creditors, even though it wasn't legally required for him to do so after declaring bankruptcy.

3. Sudoku did not originate in Japan.

It was a brain teaser in the late 1970s in America. The Guardian has an article all about it here.

4. Plastic was invented as cheap, environmentally-friendly alternative to ivory. 

Bummer that it is now a huge environmental problem. But who knows? Maybe plastic is the reason elephants are still around.

5. When time travel is involved, a Victorian mystery can include allusions to Hercule Poirot and Peter Whimsey.

For my Skype book club this month, we read To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis. (Isn't that a great title?) It's sort of set in 2050, but it's a time travel mystery, so most of the action takes place in 1888. Because of the time travel twist, Willis is able to include all sorts of references that should be anachronisms and still be consistent. I'm a fan. If you're looking for a light, delightful read that also provides lots of food for thought, this might be the book for you.

6. On my list of favorite classical music, Brahms' "Deutsches Requiem" is up there with Handel's "Messiah" and Vivaldi's "Four Seasons."

I got to perform this at the beginning of this month with the choir I joined here. Words really can't express how incredible this music is. Just go listen to it. My favorite movements are 2, 3 and 6. Movement 6 has one of my favorite moments in all music ever. But the whole thing is amazing. If you do listen to it, take a look at the English translation of the lyrics - they are all lifted straight from Scripture.

7. Imposter syndrome is a thing. 

I'd never dealt with this before, but I was in several situations this month where I thought, "Why the heck am I the person in charge? I have no idea what I'm doing!" Is this what all of adult life is like? Or am I just a baby adult and will it get simpler?

Things I Learned This Month | January 2018

As per usual, I'm following Emily Freeman's lead to share a handful of things I learned this month. 

1. In Italy, hot chocolate is more like hot, drinkable chocolate custard than our typical hot chocolate. Basically, it's to die for.

2. Shortbread cookies only take 3 ingredients. This one's dangerous, y'all.

3. Skiing is not the only thing to do in the mountains in winter. There's also sledding, snowshoeing, hiking, and frolicking in the snow. I climbed up a mountain with a friend last weekend (we were supposed to be sledding but kept wondering what vistas would open before us if we went just a little higher), and it was such a blast.

4. I am not a good speller. It's embarrassing, but it's true. I've ignored the fact for years, because usually when in doubt I can do a quick google to double-check my spelling. But now I'm a teacher. In a classroom. Where I'm frequently writing vocabulary words on the blackboard. While I'm usually right about my spelling, I'm also occasionally wrong. It's a lesson in humility to stand in front of a classroom and admit that I managed to graduate from college without a firm grip on spelling. (Ironically, my German spelling is perfect.) *sigh*

5. Just because I want to watch a TV show in the middle of the afternoon, when I can't, does not mean that I want to watch one in the evening, when I can. Do you ever plan to use your relaxing time one way, really look forward to it, and then realize that it's not actually what you want to do when the free time comes? I do. Strangely enough, I sometimes make myself do the thing anyway. I wanted to do it earlier, so I must want to do it now, right?!? While this is good when it comes to things like exercising, it's just kind of ridiculous when it comes to something like watching a show on Netflix. It was weirdly freeing to recognize this pattern and give myself permission to not do the thing I thought I wanted to do. Am I crazy?

6. The Munich Readery is one of my happy places. 

7. Along those lines...I've turned into a multiple-books-at-once kind of person. Through high school, I was very firmly a one-book-at-a-time person. I'm not sure when that changed, but I realized this week that I'm currently reading two hard-copy books, a book on my kindle, a different book on my phone's kindle app, and listening to an audiobook. Oh, and that doesn't count my daily Bible reading. Oy. (A good friend of mine recently told me that "to say you're bookish is to say a fish prefers to swim in water." Ha.)

Via Pinterest

stealing cabs and driving to mailboxes: the first two weeks of teaching

“What exactly are you doing for your Fulbright?”

That’s a question I’ve gotten a lot since I accepted the Fulbright English Teaching Assistant (ETA) position in April. I’ve mostly fended it off, because I didn’t really have a good idea myself of what this was going to look like. But now, having just wrapped up my second week of classes, I feel like I can answer that question.

I’m the ETA at a Fachoberschule for health and social services. The German school system is pretty complicated, and rather different than the American school system, so I’m not going to try to explain the system as a whole. I’m teaching 12^th and 13^th grade, and my students range from 17-23 years old. They are being prepped to go into health and social services, though many won’t go that route. Some will go to university, some won’t. Many have no idea what they want to do with their lives. (Who can blame them?)

As the ETA, I’m helping out the English faculty as the native speaker in the classrooms. I’m teaching 10 different classes – once a week for each class – and I help run the English Club. (I also have Fridays off, which is glorious.) In some classes, the teachers have given me free rein to teach however and whatever I want. In others, I’m given specific themes to deal with. The 12^th grade is in a module on social problems right now, so I’ve been assigned, among other things, lessons on immigration, gun law, murder rates in Chicago, and the death penalty.

It’s sometimes a little overwhelming, considering that I have no training as a teacher and am no expert on most of the subjects I’m supposed to expound upon. But the challenge is exciting. I’ve always loved learning, and in my last two years of college I began to get an inkling that I might also really love teaching. So far, I do. My mentor teachers are extremely welcoming and supportive, which helps a lot, but what really makes me enjoy it so much and keeps me on my toes is the students.

The students are fascinating. It would be difficult to imagine a more diverse group. Only about half are of German heritage. The others, while mostly born and/or raised in Munich, come from a wide variety of backgrounds. I have students whose parents are from Italy, Turkey, Slovakia, Ukraine, Chechnya, Croatia, Poland, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Egypt, Eretria, Togo, Kosovo, Serbia, Denmark, and Greece. (I’m probably forgetting something.) There are Christians, Muslims, Jews, and non-religious kids. One of my students has Serbian parents, was born in Munich, lived in Mississippi for years, and moved back to Munich three years ago. Her Southern drawl was extremely disconcerting the first time I heard it.

Most of them speak excellent English, since they’ve been taking English since 3^rd grade, so rather than teaching the nuts and bolts of the language I get to help them think about diverse topics and facilitate group discussions. Sometimes they’re reluctant to talk, but if I can get them started then the discussions are fascinating, since they have such a wide range of backgrounds and opinions. Here’s a representative handful of quotes, culled from discussions on immigration, DACA, and what it means to be American:

 “America should take more refugees from Syria because they’re responsible for the situation in Syria.” (Ok....how exactly are we responsible for that one?)

“Trump’s wall is a good idea.”

“Anyone who wants to live in America should be able to do so, as long as they aren’t hurting anyone.”

“If America doesn’t want illegal immigrants, they should fix Mexico’s problems.”

“Trump is right to look out for Americans first.”

“Governments should look out for everyone, not just their own citizens.”

“Feeling American is what makes you American, regardless of what the government says.”

Thus declare my students.

The stereotypes are amusing, too. There’s the usual: fast food, everything supersized, football, cowboy boots, guns, BBQ, patriotism (so many stereotypes seem to come from Texas). The most random conception of Americans?

“Americans are lazy: they drive to their mailboxes instead of walking down the driveway.”

“Americans steal other people’s cabs.”

At my confused prodding, the student explained that when someone in America hails a cab someone else usually hops in first, riding merrily off while the luckless first comer has to try again.

What do you know? I'm learning things about Americans I never knew...

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