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我之所以教书(2)

在我没有作出任何暗示的情况下,全体同学起立为他鼓掌。当大家纷纷跑上前去拥抱他的时候,阿尔笑了。

这就是我之所以教书的原因。之所以教书,是因为我可以在那些面孔下面了解到一些故事;是因为我可以看着孩子们成长、欢笑、学习和友爱;更是因为那些像阿尔一样的学生们。

Why I Teach

Whitney L。 Grady

I know my students。 Masses of awkward seventh graders swarm the halls of my rural middle school each day; hauling backpacks over one shoulder; talking and shuffling along the tile hallway floor from class to class。 I watch them like a general from my post(my classroom door) and smile at the fact that I can call each one by name。

I know their secrets; their stories。 Dora slouches1 and is shy; and I know it is because she spends all her time at home trying not to get noticed; so she won’t feel the brunt of her stepfather’s angry hand。 Jay can pitch like a tenth grader; and all the girls swoon2 when he and his blond hair strut by; but I know he doesn’t really even like baseball that much (he plays because his dad wants him to) and he is too scared to ask out the girl he likes。 The kids think Keith is just the class clown; but I know of his dreams to bee an astronaut(and I’ve remended him for space camp)。 I know my students because I am their writing teacher。 They trust me with their stories and so I am given the privilege3 of having a secret bond with each and every one of them。

I teach my students about the power of words; and I try to let them find release and expression through writing。 We learn to trust each other in writing class because we learn how hard it is to write openly and honestly; and we learn that sharing your words takes courage。 I see courage every day in my classroom; and I am always amazed at the words that e from my students’ hearts。

One such example of courage took place during author’s chair; a sharing session at the end of our writer’s workshop in which students volunteer to share what they have written。 We had a new student to the school; Al。 Al was small and; with his dimpled cheeks and baby face; he looked younger than his classmates。

In fact; when Al was first introduced to the class two weeks earlier; one student said; “You’re not in the seventh grade。 You’re a baby。 ”

To that; Al quickly responded; “I’m Al Billslington; and I am in the seventh grade。 ”

Despite his obvious courage; Al had been with us for only a short while and was still trying to fit in。 So I was a little surprised when he volunteered to read during author’s chair。 I had one of those teacher moments; when I smiled and nodded for him to read;  while inside I said a silent prayer that the other students would not tease4 the new kid after he read。 The room fell silent; and Al began to read。

“If I had one wish; it would be to meet my dad。。。 ” He started out loud and clear and held the attention of my usually restless seventh graders as he read on for what seemed like fifteen minutes。 He told of how he had never known his father; who had left the family when Al was a baby。 He shared the intimate details of his struggles to be the only man in the house at such a young age; of having to mow the lawn and fix broken pipes。 He revealed to us the thoughts that raced through his mind constantly about where his father might be and why he might have left。txt电子书分享平台

我之所以教书(3)

My eyes scanned5 the room for snickering faces of seventh…grade kids who I knew were prone to jump at a weakness and try to crack a joke; but there were no snickers。 There were no rolling eyes or gestures insinuating boredom or pending attacks。 All of my seventh…grade students were listening; really listening。 Their eyes were on Al; and they were absorbing his words like sponges。 My heart was full。

Al continued on; telling of nightmares at night; of never knowing a man so important to him; yet so unreal。 I could hear his voice growing shaky as he read such passionate and honest words; and I saw a tear roll down one of his dimpled cheeks。 I looked to the audience。 There were tears on Jessica’s face and on the faces of a few others seated quietly; intently listening。

They are letting him do this; I thought。 They are allowing him to share something he perhaps has never shared before; and they aren’t judging him or teasing him。 I felt a lump6 in my own throat。

Al finished; struggling now to read his last sentence。 “If l had one wish; it would be to meet my dad; so I wouldn’t。。。 ” His tears were rolling now; and so were ours; “。。。 so I wouldn’t have to close my eyes in bed every night just wondering what he looks like。 ”

Without any cue from me; the class stood up and applauded。 Al smiled from ear to ear as they all rushed him with hugs。 I was floored。

This is why I teach。 I teach because I am allowed to learn the stories behind the faces。 I teach because I can watch kids grow and laugh and learn and love。 I teach because of students like Al。

。。

欢聚一堂

凯西·皮平·哈里斯

感恩节那天,我家的所有亲戚都聚在一起,他们围坐在长桌旁,或是坐在高脚桌上。有的人一边看电视一边调侃着什么。

电视中的一些节目吸引了他们的注意,一个大人喊道:“快听!”另一个人则附和道:“天啊,真棒啊!”

他们的语言简单朴实,不时还夹带一些方言,都是一些有趣的俗语,可以活跃气氛,还可以暖场。

这与学校的老师教我们的语言是不同的,像亲戚那样说话是不允许的。有时,父母说一些学校里不教的话,他们会经常纠正自己,就像改正错误似的。

当然,我们也学会了一些方言,说话时也会冒出一句。这些方言说起来很舒服,也很亲切。

父亲家的亲戚都是来自阿肯色州和俄克拉荷马州,他们说话时都带有当地口音,声音很高、很好听,从我们的谈话中就可以很容易地听出来,我和哥哥经常因为语言跟别人有差异而遭到取笑。

母亲家的亲戚来自伊利诺伊州,他们的说话速度都很快,也有口音,我和哥哥均受到了影响,学校的孩子们有些听不懂我们的话。

父亲家的亲戚很爱笑,日子过得很开心。母亲家的亲戚很严肃,很多时候都是静静地体会和享受自己的快乐。

他们之间的这种差异就像一条五颜六色的文化织棉,给了我和哥哥一个多角度的生活。感恩节通常是逍遥自在的一天,舒适而让人期待,是这个季节的第一个真正的节日,人们会聚在一起,享受一个“极其”快乐的日子。

时光荏苒,越来越多的家人离开了人世,可以聚在一起的人也越来越少。屋内仍然回荡着动听的音乐,并慢慢远去。放着高脚桌和长桌的房间现在也只剩下了一张桌子。食物还很丰盛,但是房间却十分冷清,心情也低落了下来。

“介意出去散步吗?”哥哥吃完晚饭后问我。

“当然!”

于是我们穿上夹克出去了。

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