Castrating English Class

Okay so given that I’ve only just started student teaching, and have not a lot of in school hours clocked as a teacher, I can’t help but to notice certain trends. I find myself irked by some of them…a lot. One such trend is this near-constant breakdown of literature to its simplest and most drab form. Essentially we are castrating literature: sterilizing it if you will, and really threatening the future of the literature species.

                There seems to be a rather large disconnect on behalf of the administration who can’t seem to grasp that literature should be enjoyed, even to a small extent. Instead schools spend years (critical years, mind you) teaching students how to reduce and dissect something they don’t even understand or enjoy. Surprisingly linguistic, phallic measuring contests between dead white men who live in 18-something may not be the best place to start. Just the idea that we teach Shakespeare to 8^th graders with the hope that they can cut it into tiny “chewable” pieces and  vomit it back up on test months later, is ridiculous. What ever happened to reading for enjoyment? Or better, what ever happened to teaching that reading is something that you don’t have to suffer through? These things called book s exist and sometimes characters have sex and say “Fuck.” It happens.       

Promising Weekend? I Think So...

Since starting college, I have this habit where I look at everyday things and analyzing them. I guess it's a good habit to get into, except when it can't be turned off. Take for instance this weekend. I was a bit tipsy and as I was being driven home, I saw a car pass by with one of those rubber bumper guards hanging out of the trunk. I proceeded to rant about the idiocy that is protecting one's bumper from becoming blemished by placing an ugly piece of rubber over it, thus defacing it anyway. No one in my car seemed to understand me, let alone care. Alas, I shut up. But it got me thinking about looking at routine things or events in deeper ways. Take for instance a bar, itself. Those of you that know me, know I love bars. Usually the people in bars are not my main motivation for going out to them, but I had an interesting revelation. A bar contains people from all walks of life. People that cross paths with each other for one moment, and  probably never will again. Maybe underneath the noise and bad lighting, just behind the copious amounts of liquor there is really just infinite possibility. I mean really anything can happen and I mean anything. It's just fascinating to me.
 In writing this, the thought occurs that perhaps I should drink less and shut up-- this is totally viable as well. 

Epic Grammar Fail

Okay so, first off, I just want to deliver a grim but much-needed affirmation of the fact that people's grammar skills have all but gone extinct. I always thought my impatience for poor grammar was only shared by those of the English (my fancy way of saying English majors). However, I was recently helping a friend (who is a graphic designer) with her online dating profile and I learned that she too has noticed this trend and it bothers her to the extent that she said, "I'm ashamed to admit with what I would do for a guy with good grammar." It got me thinking about my own feelings about grammar and how important grammar really is to writing/talking. I mean we are taught reflective practice by all of our professors, and yet at the same time we are vested with a certain level of academic elitism (by some professors in the English department like She-Who-Must-Not-Be Named -- English majors, you know who). So I'm left wondering if I should care so much for grammar or are my priorities somehow misplaced? If the thoughts are there and I understand them, does the way in which the words are arranged really matter?