Friday, October 7, 2011

Sweet Mobility and Laughter Incapacitations

I hope that incapacitating, joyful, childlike laughter is always a part of my adult life.  But sometimes, it would be handy to have some control over the immobilizing laughter that, unannounced, spontaneously hits me in the presence of certain creaturedome.  For example, my students.  There is rampant creaturedome in my classrooms.  Some of you probably know that there is a direct correlation between control of my arms and legs and the magnitude of my laughter.  Translation: hard laughter causes me to fall over.  And we're not talking about a little bending over, holding my sides--this is an instantaneous collapse to the ground.  

My students are very funny.  Even when they're being bad or silly or just playful, and I should, probably, be reacting to them in other ways than with laughter, it's difficult to keep a straight face.  We played Physics Jeopardy today in order to review for a quiz on Sunday.  They get really competitive, which is great because they're so involved and excited, but it's difficult for me to call on the "first hand up" when they all instantaneously raise they hands.  And still, whichever student I call on, of course I'm met by a chorus of, "Miss!  I had my hand up first.  Not fair, Miss!" from the rest of the class.  (All students call teachers "Miss" here, and that's it.  It's really funny and great.)  Anyway, at one point, I was laughing so hard at their intense earnestness toward this game of Physics Jeopardy (as if it would surely determine the rest of their foreseeable lives) that I nearly lost leg-control.  (Probably did not make them any happier, since they were taking this all VERY seriously.)  I maintained (minimal) dignity by holding onto the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom.

This week I asked them to research an Arab physicist and present in class about this person's contributions to science, regional and global implications of these contributions and any funny or personal stories they could find about the scientist.  I also told them I'd give extra credit for dressing up like the scientist.  They were so hilariously creative with the costumes--cotton beards, cloaks, various types of turbans, lab coats, goggles.  And the greatest part was how theatrical some of them were, really getting into the character of the scientist.  I learned about an Egyptian nuclear physicist named Sameera Moussa who died tragically in a car that drove off a cliff and was believed to be the only "alien" to gain access to secret US atomic facilities in California.  Many of the kids talked about the famous Arab physicist, Abū ʿAlī al-Ḥasan ibn al-Ḥasan ibn al-Haytham (yes, they had to write this name on the board for me), who had many Newtonian and Einsteinian views of physics before these two men were even born, and also feigned insanity to escape certain death after an Egyptian caliphate ordered he redirect the Nile or die.  One of my students reenacted the certain escapades of an Arab predecessor to the Wright brothers, a man who designed a bird costume and climbed to the tallest point in the city to "fly."  My student stood on top of one of the lab tables and reenacted the flight attempt with great comedy and drama...myself and the other students were in great anticipation throughout the narrative and sighed with relief to hear that he survived.

Other highlights from this week:

1.  The Johnny Rodgers Band played during school meeting.  It was very bizarre and wonderful to hear Ray Charles and Louis Armstrong covers here.  At first the kids had no idea how to react, but eventually one senior stood up and starting dancing and waving his uniform tie over his head.  The kids went WILD.  The fact that someone was brave enough to dance during school meeting as if at a rock concert really excited them.  It was wonderful to watch.  

2.  We were saddened here as well by the news of Steve Job's death.  I'm not an Apple person, but I recognize him as a brilliant and ingenious man.  I was interested to learn that Steve Job's biological father is actually Syrian.

3. I'm renting a wooden clarinet.  Feels so great to be able to play here.  I'm really getting some great time outside of work to do things I love, like music and reading and writing. 

4. I am extraordinarily happy.[1]
 
5.  I am MOBILE!  I've teamed up with two other teachers to rent a little Honda Jazz from the school.  Now even more opportunity for exploration!  
 

[1]
 
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, only to forget me, Nivea.  You, more than anyone, deserve to be happy—”

“Who told you that I want to be happy, Severo?  That’s the last adjective I would use to describe the future I aspire to.  I want an interesting life, adventurous, different, passionate—in short, almost anything other than happy.” 

--Nívea, from Isabel Allende's "Portrait in Sepia" (my current read)

Oh, Severo, you noble martyrly fool.  Why do you get to decide what she wants or deserves?

1 comment:

  1. You sound like a fantastic teacher! I wish we had that much fun in my physics classes. I'm glad you're having a good time.

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