Showing posts from October, 2012
"Red-rover Elana, red-rover, Dina. Batya started so Elana came. Elana started maybe."

The chanting grew louder, quicker tempo. "Red-rover Elana, red-rover, Dina. ..."

What were they on?

I peered over the top of my scuffed list and stared at the girls in front of me. There were five of them now, enthusiastically chanting a string of nonsense. "Can't I study in here? There's a quiz in a few minutes!"

"But we are studying!" they retorted and continued with the inane chanting.
Or so I thought.

My classmates had discovered the Magic of Mnemonics.

Fast forward a few years.

I am at the door of my Jewish History classroom, test piles tucked under my arm, when I hear it. Strange tunes being repeated, from one girl to the next. I listen closely - those words sound familiar. Ah, of course. They are studying for my test. A surge of pride electrifies me. I've made it! I've presented my students with a course of study serious enough to promp…

She was dancing before she could walk

My little one buggied and cheered through her morning music session. She totally digged the instruments - shakers, triangles, tambourines, you name it. She went through them one by one.

Most importantly, she walked across the room to retrieve those items. I find it intriguing to note that only when she really, really, REALLY wants something, when there is an all-important (fill in the blank) then she'll go for it. She hardly notices that she is walking. And that's when she makes her best efforts.

A Test of Integrity

I tapped my foot impatiently. The bell had already rung, and the other class would need all the time they could get. 'Thorough Student' hurriedly scanned her last sheet, and gave me a sheepish grin as she handed in her test paper. At last!

I hurried up the aisle, set to gather my materials and head into the next lesson. And stopped. Two students from the other class, Dafna* and Miriam* were reading something in the front of the classroom. I could almost feel the niggling question mark hovering in front of them. As I neared my desk, the corners of my mouth turned down into a grimace, a frown, and then a terribly astonished face. I actually felt this transformation, bit by bit.

The girls sensed me approach and guiltily fled the room.

What to do?
What to do?
I slowly piled the completed test papers and made my way into the hall. What to do? I met a teacher on the way, and whispered my dilemma. "I would fail them," she recommended, "just a full-out zero." I c…