Scenario 1
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
Fortunately, I am no old woman and we are situated far from Marikina, the country's shoe capital.
I
asked my Art History2-2 class to join my Art History 2-8 so I would no
longer schedule a make up class for them having missed their regular
Tuesday schedule. It was a good thing that room 701 was a big classroom.
I
was kinda jittery. It was the first time that I ever joined these two
Ace sections together in one session and I thought that the number of
questions that would pop up would surely drive me nuts, not to mention
the occasional jokes that the regular clowns would need to crack to
complete the day. Questions were sometimes relevant. But there were
those days when their being fidgety matched their mental restlessness.
Like that day, coming from the christmas season's long lull. Many of
them were still in their vacation mode and were too unfocused.
But,
having performed in front of a large audience when I was taking my M.A.
in Theatre, I was able to muster enough courage the moment I set foot
inside the classroom.
New year, new hair
style, new Mac, I thought would buy me peace. But suspended animation
lasted for a few seconds. Questions came pouring in even before I could
set up the LCD projector.
“Ma’am, did you break up with your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have one.”
“How much is your laptop?”
“Very affordable,” I answered with a grin.
“Why are we so many today?”
“Why did you not attend the Paskuhan? You missed seeing our costumes. I was Darna! Blah! Blah! Blah!”
“Did
you win the raffle? Sir Deon did! He won an entertainment set without
the TV! Its like videoke without the video. He only won the oke!”
“Okay, everyone. Settle down so we can start.” I nearly busted my lungs on my first sally.”
They
all dutifully sat down but the questions did not wane. I had to do
something threatening. I could not afford to lose control nor to
dismiss the class with an unfinished lesson. Preliminary Examinations
would be coming in less than a week. I had no other choice but to
dramatically bring out my red pen to signify my readiness to give a
demerit to anyone who would interfere with the smooth flow of the
discussion.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.
My powerpoint presentation of the Romantic period was embellished with pig pictures to signify the coming year of the pig.
“Ma’am, do you believe in feng shui?”
“Not much. This is my way of wishing you a happy new year.”
I
told them that the term Romantic does not just mean love and passion.
It means anticlassicist, individualistic, exotic, and emotionally
wrought. I also told them that during this time, a number of artists
revived King Arthur, Charlemagne, and Alexander the Great.”
“Ma’am, is he really gay?”
“Okay
class. I can only give you my personal opinion. First, he and his men
were always together, away from home, and in the battle field. Second,
they also had needs.”
I was able to breeze through the historical
background and social milieu without so much fuzz. Until that Gericault
part of the lesson. I showed them the painting The Raft of Medusa and
why it was considered a good representative artwork.
“Ma’am, did they find the sunken Medusa?”
She gave them some broth, without any bread.
“Any of you familiar with The Legend of the Sleepy Hollow?”
A good number raised their hands.
“Good, your assignment goes like this…”
I
told them to pretend that it would be staged and that their group was
commissioned to design the costume, the stage, and the poster of the
play.
“Ma’am, will the stage be physical or symbolic?”
“What do you mean physical or symbolic? Why are you asking me that? Shouldn’t you be the one to decide on that?”
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
I
told them to discuss the division of work among the group members. But
one of them could not take it any longer. She was just like that one
Edgar Allan Poe character, she felt that she must scream or die.
“Ma’am, can we take a break? Look, I am having a nosebleed, physical and symbolic!”
Of course, she was joking.
