Sometimes a Class is Just Special

By Cindy Reitzi

October 2002

Reizend -- (German) a word meaning both charming and irritating
We’re not supposed to, but we do. All teachers have favorite classes. It may be unfair, but there are some groups we prefer over others if we honestly admit it.

Favorite classes are a moment in time with the right accidental mix of individuals that work. Since teachers don’t usually choose their classes, they are happenstance and are not functions of calculation or imagination. They are serendipity.

Favorite classes are highly individual and a mesh of teacher and student personalities and values. A favorite class for one teacher could be total irritation to another.

They are not always what you’d predict. Sometimes you don’t realize they’re a favorite class until you’re telling all those stories to friends … and laughing. They are the classes that charm and irritate. They are not necessarily classes that are paragons of order, organization, or obedience. They include the creative chaotics, the challenging chatterers, and the ones who question.

They are the high school classes who still wonder in the open-mouthed fascination of children facing the unknown, the undone, the “undiscovered country.” They are process-oriented; they are the classes for whom the question is more important than the answer. They are rare. They are not always the class you want to leave with a sub.

One year, this favorite class was 5th hour, a motley mix of 9th graders. They were simply not like other classes. If I gave an open-ended “thinking” assignment or anything involving debate, I would often be greeted with positive onslaughts of “Alright!” or “Can we…?” “Why don’t we…?” or “Could we try…?” suggestions. They reveled in possibilities, questions, and what-ifs. I liked my other 9th graders, but their response to this kind of assignment often ranged from meek shrugs, silence, or procedural demands for a detailed accounting of my grading system, how-do-I-do-it-so-I-get-an-A instructions, and “How are we supposed to…?” complaints to assignments that had no one right answer. Fifth hour usually was ready for anything; my other classes wanted the finite and predictable.

Fifth hour also liked to contribute to the curriculum. I didn’t mind. Their ideas often improved my existing lesson plan. I learned some valuable lessons when we read “Romeo and Juliet.”

Many students in 5th hour became avid Shakespeare groupies. They were especially excited to act out the play with their friends. The problem was that most of them wanted to be Romeo or Juliet in the same scene. The romantics in class were inspired by the moment when Romeo meets Juliet. It’s the scene that invented the “he-sees-her-across-a-crowded-room-and-instantly-falls-in-love” romantic device that is just ripe for teen sensibilities. So, in their inimical 5th hour way, several students “campaigned” to be cast.

“I’ll kiss someone!” offered Emma, who wanted to play Juliet.

“Well, kissing is optional,” I said.

“I think we need a Black Romeo,” chimed in DaVita persuasively.

“OK,” I relented and threw out my lesson plan. “You can all do it.” So three Romeos and Juliets acted out the same scene three different ways.

They took their parts seriously and acted them with passion. It felt like a mini-Shakespeare festival. Each pair created a different scene. One Romeo boldly strode across the room to Juliet; another sidled up stealthily. One “kiss” was an abrupt peck; another was a swooping tango dip (to dramatic gasps from the audience). What we witnessed was a demonstration of different interpretations of the exact same words and moments and a high-level lesson in staging a scene from a play. Most 9th graders probably haven’t attended enough plays to know that different interpretations and staging are possible. It was far more than I had originally planned.

Two other things impressed me. Not all of my Romeos and Juliets were the anticipated “A” students. And, not one of these students asked if they were getting “extra credit” for acting out the scene. They just wanted to because they loved the play ... because it was fun to do with their friends ... because they were excited to read something as “grown-up” as Shakespeare.

The difference between this class and others was passion. Maybe it’s unfair to compare, but there were days I wished my other classes were more like 5th hour. But some things can’t be orchestrated by a teacher. They have a life of their own and you hope, as a teacher, that you have the wisdom to step out of the way. Sometimes over-planning just gets in the way. Some things just work. But not as planned.

Posted September 27, 2002