Take Notes: There Will Be A Test Tomorrow...

I try to stay sanguine (adj: cheerful and optimistic) about my high school students.  I constantly admonish (verb: to warn or advise strongly) myself to keep in mind their disparate (adj: separate and distinct) backgrounds and ability levels when considering their performance in my class, but invariably (adj: every time) my patience gives way, and I find myself distraught (adj: upset) over not only what they don’t know, but at how obstinately (adv: stubbornly) they cling to that ignorance.

This year, I am teaching eleventh and twelfth grade English courses.  This means dealing with seventeen and eighteen year olds, ostensibly (adv: presumably) getting ready to enter the adult world.  My goal is to facilitate (verb: make easier, help to accomplish a goal) this transition by making sure that they possess the requisite (adj: necessary) skills to succeed in college, so as to improve their chances of acquiring (verb: getting) a higher-paying job.

A pivotal (adj: important) aspect of that preparation is vocabulary.  In the academic world, an expansive (adj: wide and well-developed) vocabulary is the hallmark (noun: sign or indicator) of an effective education.  For purposes of reading comprehension, effective writing and especially for speaking cogently (adv: sounding intelligent and convincing) on subjects, a good vocabulary is imperative (adj: necessary.)

And so I inundate (verb: flood, overwhelm) my students with vocabulary, requiring them to learn ten new words each week, and quizzing them on their usage, while also introducing words in conversation, by way of my scintillating (adj: brilliant) wit.

But the inexplicable (adj: unexplainable) and exasperating (adj: frustrating) thing is that these kids resent my attempts to teach them these words.  They constantly show disdain (noun: contempt) for the lessons, and constantly ask why such lessons are necessary.  I repeatedly point out the didactic (adj: educational) purpose and value of expanding one’s vocabulary, but they doggedly (adv: persistently,) refuse to allow these new words into their own personal lexicon (noun: collection of words.)

It is as if the students are terrified at the thought of accumulating (verb: gathering) new words, perhaps fearing that their brains are not capacious (adj: roomy; spacious) enough to allow for any more words than they already know, and the addition of new words would force them to elide (verb: erase) words they have previously learned.

And so they become obdurate (adj: stubborn) and do their best to impede (verb: stop or prevent,) the learning process, adamant (adj: without compromising) in their belief that there can never be any tangible (adj: real, measurable) benefit to them in increasing their vocabulary, despite the plethora (noun: wide variety) of reasons to the contrary.

Over the years, I have become increasingly despondent (adj: sad and hopeless) over the thought of these kids’ futures.  With their paucity (noun: severe lack) of knowledge, especially regarding vocabulary and language skills, I find it dubious (adj: doubtful) that they will be able to excel in higher education, and I am concerned that this lack may curtail (verb: limit or cut short) many opportunities later in life.  Unsurprisingly, I have become somewhat bitter from the incessant (adj: unending) pejorative (adj: nasty, negative) comments and their constant apathy (noun: just plain not giving a shit,) and fear that it might be affecting me. 

As a direct result of the constant contact with my pupils (noun: little bastards,) my own language has become more coarse (adj: full of damn swearing) and vulgar (adj: even more full of damn swearing,) and have even picked up their habit of casual blasphemy (noun: God damned swearing.)

Likewise I’ve become more cynical (adj: basically me) and my speech has become impregnated (adj: not what you think) with sarcasm (noun: that stuff that comes out of my mouth, genius.)  I find this trend somewhat unsettling (adj: entirely predictable to anyone who’s spent time with teenagers) and, I worry, irreversible (adj: I don’t drink.)

But I persevere (verb: I need the money) at my chosen vocation (noun: seriously, like the only thing I can do, I’ve looked at my options,) and do my best to maintain my cheerful and optimistic demeanor (noun: grin and bear it till Friday, and don’t punch any of the little pricks.)

However, I want to do what is right and honorable (no modern definition found,) and so I continue teaching vocabulary, in the hopes that this endeavor (noun: hopeless, quixotic crusade of futility) will provide me a sense of personal gratification (noun: nope.)

Because a future where our words die out is too execrable (adj: shitty) to imagine, and somebody has to act as sentinel (noun: sucker who gets ground under the wheel of repetition) for our language, so that the situation does not become untenable (adj: all fucked up.)

And so I shall remain vigilant (adj: I don’t really have much choice, especially with Common Core on the way,) and man the ramparts (noun: my classroom, in which I no longer get to spend my freaking planning period,) to guard against the onslaught (noun: 125 new little bundles of attitude each year) of academic lassitude (noun: they just don’t give a crap anymore,) so that our proud nation does not fall into intellectual penury (look it up your own damn self, I’m off duty.)

From Square One She'll Be Watching All Sixty-Four

I have this daughter.

I may have mentioned her in the past, usually to point out how awesome and smart she is.  Her mother and I do our best to help her become the best person she can possibly be.  That means giving her exposure to all kinds of new experiences, letting her try her hand at a variety of activities, and encouraging her in those things she finds interesting.

Nah, I'm just funnin' ya, we're doing our best to turn her into a total nerd like us.

Grace is forced to watch Star Trek, watches us play D&D on the weekends, and is carefully shielded from all things sports.  She gets books and miniatures for her birthday, and there are Star Wars ornaments on her Christmas tree.  The indoctrination is in full swing.

Of course, one has to apply a steady hand with such brainwashing.  Push too far, and you could end up with a cheerleader, or one of those student government types who shops at Tommy American Air Postal...whatever.  Or she could be the wrong kind of geek, like one of those pathetic CCG junkies.   Blecch.

So we've done our best to pace ourselves, never trying to push her too hard in any one direction.  The iron fist of nerd culture must be wrapped in the velvet glove of subtlety (although I've always felt that analogy is a little suspect, I mean, when the Hell is a velvet glove subtle?)

Anyway, we try to allow her to find her own way, and only occasionally erecting blockades in her path to help, ahem, direct her.

So when it was time for her to pick clubs for aftercare, we left the decision up to her.  On the day she was to sign up, one of her little friends from aftercare ran up to her and said "You should sign up for Chess Club!  I'm in that on Mondays, and we could be in it together!"

My daughter, affect completely flat, responded: "okay."

And like that, she was in Chess Club.  I hadn't even known that there was a Chess Club for the Kindergarten classes.  But it all fit, I mean she loves playing board games with us, and chess teaches the fundamentals of sportsmanship, taking turns and following rules.

When she found out that I sponsor the Chess Club at my school, she was even more excited.  Here was something else that Daddy and daughter could share!

Except... I suck at chess.  I mean really, truly suck at playing the game.  I never play the game, and my "Chess Club" is actually a front for our actual activities; playing much better games like Carcassone, Munchkin, Pandemic and Battletech.

So, whereas every geek father dreams of the day his child is good enough to beat him at a game, I knew I wouldn't have very long to wait.

I just didn't think it would be after one lesson.

We had a teacher work day today, and now that my little girl is in Kindergarten, that means she is off school on those days.  Her brother went to preschool as normal, but she got to come in to school with Mommy and Daddy, about which she was very excited.

So she was in my room while I was entering grades, and Mommy was enduring a meeting.  The girl child had been reading Charlotte's Web for a while, and finally got tired of reading.  The wifi was acting wonky, so she couldn't play games on my laptop, so she started exploring my classroom.

She found a chess set, and immediately wanted me to play a game with her.  I explained that I had to get all my grades entered, and talked about all the students that wanted me to post the grades on Edline to see if they had been saved by the last minute work that I was nice enough to let them do at the last minute, and that I had been warning them about all nine weeks which they had ignored repeatedly and which...

Fuck 'em.  "Set up the board, sweetie."

So as I pulled up a chair, she started to ask me which pieces went where.  I told her, because of course I remember the piece order.  But then it was time to place the King and Queen, and I realized that there is probably some rule about which one goes on the left or right.  But for the life of me...

"The Queen always stands on her own color Daddy."

Well shit.  I need to remember that.

So we started a game.  It did not last for too long, as I finally just said "let's start over."  She was down to like four pieces, and was already doomed.

I don't think you do a child any favors by pulling your punches or letting them win.  To her credit, she handled losing pieces well (which happened a lot,) and repeated her mantra that as long as she was having fun, the game was still worth playing.

So after declaring the first massacre a practice game, we set up another board and started again.  She was a little better, and was trying to think ahead.  I pointed out a few cases where I had set up a trap for her, and also those times where Daddy's terrible skills had set a trap for himself.  I encouraged her to watch for those, and take advantage of Daddy when he made such mistakes.

Once again, the outcome was foregone, and we decided to quit and go to lunch.

After lunch, I assented to one more game.  This time, I gave her more hints about when I was trapping her, or when she was about to leave a piece open.  For this game, I was going to show her an actual checkmate, and I was lining her up to have her king bracketed by my rooks.  It was a little too Darth Vader, really: "All too easy..."

But then it happened.  It probably should have happened like eight moves prior, but neither of us saw it.  She was stuck, and nearly every one of her pieces was blocked; anywhere they moved was a deathtrap.  She was irked that she could not move anyone, so I pointed out that her bishop could still slide off to the side of the board.  It wouldn't help, but at least he wouldn't get captured.

Except it would help.  It would threaten my King.  It would force my King to move...no, not there....how about...no.  Huh.  My little girl had me in checkmate.

If you can't spot it, the bishop in question is to the left.  My king has exactly three spaces he can move to, and they are all covered by the bishop, or one of the two pawns.  That's what checkmate looks like, kiddies.

I had to explain this several times.  She kept trying to get me to move, like she was taking pity on me or something.  She had never played a game where you were supposed to leave your opponent with nowhere to run.  It felt anticlimactic to her, even when I did the cool melodramatic "knock over your own King" move.

She had won, and all she could say was: "Oh.  Can we play that again?"

On the one hand, I'm so proud of her.  She beat her old man at Chess at age five!  But then again, I left my left flank wide open, and she didn't even spot it and go for the carotid.

We got a lot of work ahead of us on this kid, but she'll figure it out.  I have no doubt both her skill and her bloodthirst will improve with practice, and in no time at all, she will be leaving opponents on the Chessboard, black and blue.

That's when I teach her Battletech, and destroy her utterly.  A daddy still has to have his pride, right?

Keep Christ(obal) In Columbus Day!

Okay, it's Columbus day, and every year, a lot of people feel it is clever to point out that Columbus (and other European explorers like him,) "stole" this country from the Native North and South Americans.  And they seem to feel that posting these things in a tone of righteous indignation makes them edgy and poignant.

But it's time to let it go, people.  If you would stop and look at all the other shit that happened that long ago, it might make you wonder why we still fixate on it so.  It happened, it sucked, but it was sort of what people did back then.  Acting like we in America are somehow barbaric because of this secret shame in our background is asinine.

EVERYONE has this shit in their history.  Conquest is largely an outdated concept today (we have U.N.s and stuff for that,) but it was simply how things got done back then.  If your empire needed to grow, you needed more resources.  If the people next door had 'em, and you could take 'em, you got 'em.

Everyone in Europe was doing it to each other, but they were too evenly matched for there to be much success.  Do you feel Columbus' conquest was an unfair fight because the natives didn't have guns?  Maybe you don't understand how war works.  I'm not trying to draw a comparison between the two conflicts, but how many people felt the US invasion of Afghanistan was a bad thing because we had better weapons?  That's kind of our thing, you know?

When colonial powers roll up into your territory with vastly superior weaponry and technology, you're getting conquered, end of story.  You think the American Indians got a raw deal?  Go talk to some Indian Indians.  They had a massive, successful culture that was a hell of a lot more advanced than anything the Aztecs put together.  But guns?  They missed that lesson, and that's why they speak English when you call tech support.

And yet, the same internet dwellers who post snarky shit about Columbus, and consider his actions a hate crime, will think nothing of dressing up in Victorian cosplay and reenact the era when plenty of native cultures fell beneath the old 'reeking tube and iron shard.'

So how about you cut the famed explorer some slack, shut up about what a thief Columbus was, and instead get back to bitching that you still have to work today, and yet you can't go to the damn bank because those pricks get the day off.

"Introvert" Is The New "OCD"

Growing up, I knew what the words 'introverted' and 'extroverted' meant, but I never thought about them too much, because they simply weren't that important.  They were footnotes to a person's personality, like "sports fan," or "avid reader."  They help describe you, they don't define you.

You see, words like those are not meant to be cattle brands, burned into the flesh of the afflicted, permanently labelling them like the mark of Cain, thus forever isolating them from the normal people.

But they're also not meant to be worn as badges, used to proclaim your special uniqueness.  They shouldn't separate you from the rest of the humanity like a leper, but they also shouldn't indemnify you from criticism of your actions and choices.  They are tendencies.  Terms like 'introvert' do not demarcate you as a separate species, requiring special treatment (and special privileges,) above and beyond regular people.

But that's exactly what you've seen, haven't you?  On Facebook or...whatever other social networks there are out there, I only ever joined one (I must be an introvert that way,) people are proclaiming their introversion from the rooftops, crowing loudly about how everyone else needs to let them be the quiet shut-ins they were born to be.

We get lists and instructions on how to spot an introvert, how to handle introverts, how to respect their boundaries, what you are not to criticize them for or even mention, and how to keep them stress-free and happy.  It seems like the only place to go from here is to sell Introvert Chow (all rights reserved,) perhaps sold alongside 'low social pressure' plates and serving ware, so that these delicate creatures don't suffer any 'functioning human being' cross contamination.

Look, I get that people feel differently about lots of situations, especially social ones.  My wife has real difficulties in social situations.  Her idea of Hell is a cocktail party, and I am not in any way exaggerating; she would rather face physical injury rather than be taken to a party, and she is only a mild case.  There are people with genuine troubles like social anxiety disorders or agoraphobia.  These people may seek treatment from medical professionals who will analyze them, diagnose their problems, and prescribe therapy and or medication in order to allow them to live a more fulfilling life by allowing them to participate in human interaction as they desire.

But 'introvert?'  That's never been a medical condition.  No one has ever needed to be institutionalized for 'acute introversion.'  The Army doesn't grant a medical discharge because a soldier 'really doesn't enjoy crowds,' and the only medication for feeling awkward at parties is the same one people have prescribed for centuries: booze (not recommended for everyone.  Side effects may include blurry vision, vomiting, and disastrous life choices.  consult your designated driver before taking Booze.)

It's almost the opposite of what happened to terms like ADD and OCD.  Both of these are recognized conditions that interfere with people's lives (although I realize that there are plenty who believe ADD is over-diagnosed or outright nonexistent, but it does not matter for this point.)

But people use them like they are general terms for personality traits.  If someone gets distracted by something interesting (which is what is supposed to happen; that's what defines interesting,) they will laugh and talk about their ADD, as if they'd spent their formative years sent to doctors and doped to the gills on Adderol.  Or if someone gets really involved with something (or feels the need to clean or organize something,) they will apologize for their OCD tendencies, even though they've never felt helplessly compelled to walk through the halls of your high school and touch every single locker featuring a number 8.

We ALL get distracted, and we all obsess a little bit.  Just like we all experience feelings of depression or paranoia, but we are not actually depressed or paranoid (or bi-polar, which suffers egregious overuse, and is applied to anyone who possesses more than one mood.)

And the same thing is happening to 'introvert,' but in that case, the term was always the kind of thing that we all felt once in a while, but some people felt that way more often, it was simply who they were as a person.  Or a beautiful snowflake.

People are calling themselves introverts because they don't usually like to go to parties.  But what if you just have shitty friends?  How about those who say they are introverted because sometimes they would rather spend a quiet night in.  Well who doesn't?  If you can't handle a quiet night at home now and again, you may have a social condition on a much different part of the spectrum.  My favorites are the people who cite as proof of their introversion the fact that the like to read.  Really?  Maybe you need to toss a basic Psych textbook onto the old book pile.  Or a thesaurus...

Being an introvert isn't an affliction.  It doesn't make you a mutant, and it doesn't make you any less able to cope with the outside world than any other personality quirk.  And it doesn't entitle you to any special treatment .

You know all those super helpful internet guides on how to treat introverts?  Go back and look at them again.  Now ask yourself which one of those is NOT appropriate to do for all of your friends and acquaintances.  Doing the suggested actions doesn't make you an introvert whisperer, it just makes you not an asshole.

I bet your other friends, both extroverts and whatever the other option is (Neutroverts? Verts? Rational Human Beings?) would also appreciate being shown the same compassion and consideration.  And what's more, being non-introverts, they will be able to properly thank you for this consideration.

So come on introverts, both real and bandwagon variety!  Come on out and join the big wide world!

Or don't.  Your choice.