This Is Why I'm Like This: Teaching 9/11

      Ten years ago, I switched around two of my intro classes and took Steph's Comp World Lit classes. She missed theatre and Imma nice guy, and it was voluntary so I did not mind. Also, it was honors, all juniors and seniors who were college bound. Easy Peasy.
      Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer was on the curriculum. For those who do not know, this was the first 9/11 novel of note, published in 2005. These kids had been in elementary school at the time of the attacks, and all had clear memories they could share. It was living memory for all of us, and I just had to point out the time stamps on the voice mails from Oskar's dad and the images of a bombed-to-the-stone-age-Dresden. Easy Peasy.
     This year, the novel is on our curriculum list for LA 11. Not honors kids. Also, this is the first generation who were born after the attacks.
     Ummm.....
     Turns out, I have to teach all angles of 9/11 as well as Dresden, to get them to their final project, which is a Multi Voice Multi Genre memoir.
     Not Easy Peasy.
     In fact, kinda Hard...Phard....there is no matchy rhyme. Difficult Shmifficult. Rough Tough Enough?
     Yet, this is the most successful I've ever been able to structure a unit since embarking on lang arts. Everything in theatre was history lecture/analysis/acting exerises/rehearse the thing/ do the thing. I couldn't find a way to do that in lang arts, as "rehearse the thing" translates to "write in class" and that doesn't go so well. "Can we listen to music? Can I be on my phone? Do I have to write? Why can't I do this at home?" whilst busting them for being on facebook or snapchat or playing some rando computer game with Viking helmets and scantily clad women. OY. I'm too old to babysit and theatre kids ruined me for life cause they want to rehearse.
     This  novel is beautiful and I didn't want to rush it. I also needed to make sure they had the proper background info to fully understand the piece. Something as simple as an answering machine was foreign to them. They don't even set up their voicemail on their phones, they are truly a texting generation. No human contact. Voice mail counts as human contact, apparently.
     I wanted them to get the pain of the piece, the impact that day had on everyone, but particularly New Yorkers. I want them to care, but I know from my recent immersion into this whole "core" teaching thing that if you push too hard, they shut down. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. But...you can drown the son of a bitch,which is the approach I used last year with Night. I will make them care, and I will know they care when they cry.
      That didn't work last year, so I needed a new approach. Instead of addressing the whole thing the way Oprah would---a parade of widows and children---I'd skirt the edges and teach the facts.  Let the novel hook their heart strings while in class, we learned the history of the towers, read reflections of those who were impacted but not directly involved, like an F16 pilot who was scrambled to take down  American Airlines Flight 93, and Ray Romano, and the Atlantic article on "chance", opening discussions on divine intervention, focus, conspiracy theories and answered questions that I was not prepared to answer but did. We watched the slam poet Mike Rosen's "When God Happens", and his line "I ran my finger along the dust in the windowsill and thought bodies" had to be explained, because they didn't grasp that only 300 bodies were found, even though that information was in the facts we studied in class. The people became debris, shattered like the towers.No bodies to recover ties to the novel and the empty coffin, boom. Every choice I've made has been like that, I'm having an out of body experience. AHHHH I made a joke....that was unintentional but not unexpected, based on how this has been rolling along.
     I am not consciously aware of my planning. I just come in and dig around for stuff, set a page count for reading, create theme/symbol discussion questions and everything puts itself together. Jim found the F16 article. Someone on Facebook posted the Atlantic article. Click. Click.
     Which is why I was dreading yesterday. Reading a book on 9/11 on 9/11 is tricky at best, but when it's going well it makes a person jumpy for The Actual Day. So I set up the Atlantic article with writing responses around divine intervention and chance. Then the Rosen poem, suggesting they consider writing a poem as part of their MGMVM. Then the collection of 911 and answering machine calls from the towers for perspective--the first 911 operators had no idea what was going on, those in the building thought it was a bomb and the fire departments didn't answer until the sixth ring...I deliberately avoided calls from the planes, as those felt too Oprah. The 911 calls and the messages to relatives from the towers had more variety in perspective and heart without feeling too talk show-y.
     Which kinda made it worse.
      I had no interest in sharing my own "Where Was I" story. I was too buried under the realities of those who were directly impacted and the stunning symbolism in the novel. Every line is laden with the theme, it's like fish in a barrel, the kids don't have to look too far for examples and I'm sitting there feeling like the Biggest Failure As A Writer Ever.
     So instead of telling my own story, which pales in comparison, or making any sort of attempt at writing a meaningful blog about being a teacher today, I opted to just tell you what's going on.
     I also ate a lot of sugar and came home and drank a lot of beer. It's a weekend plan. It is my only plan, because frankly, the future is not guaranteed.
     That's how my day went.