Yesterday I took over a class for a colleague at Ohlone. I was amused by the lesson plan he gave me:
Pass out slips of paper to each group and have them discuss the topics with each other. Chastise those who do not participate.
As it turned out, only seven of his students showed up, and we had a fabulous time. At least I did. The slips of paper were inscribed with discussion questions. One was, “If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be?”
“I’d change my face, because if you’re pretty you have more chances.”
“I’d change that I’m unhappy all the time.”
“I’d change that I’m so shy. I can’t do anything with my life being so shy.”
“I’d change everything about myself.”
G2 an I are in our hotel in Long Beach, at the California TESOL conference, where I did a presentation this morning on digital storytelling. I had worked very hard, as always, on making it as good as I could in the little time that I had. At 11:30 pm, not long after I had arrived, I was working on revisions and a practice run. G2, who is a royal beyotch, was actually listening and making good editorial suggestions.
I got to sleep around 1:30. I was awoken by my alarm at 6:30. At 8:45, with the help of two of the conference staff, I started setting up the computer. It didn’t work.
Hitched my skirt up to expose my leg, and G2 took a picture. Dropped the top of my dress down to expose that region. G2 took another picture. I won’t post them here.
Computer still didn’t work, but by now I had an audience and had to begin. I surveyed those in front of me, apologized for the technical difficulties, and began.
“Wow, this is SO weird,” I said. “Do I really have to do this?”
“Yes!” I heard in chorus.
“But I don’t even know how to begin,” I countered.
Still, my audience encouraged me to continue. Both members of it. One was G2 and the other was my colleague who had suggested I chastise his students.
A third person showed up a little while later. She works in the Scandinavian Studies department at UC Berkeley and wants to talk more about digital storytelling. It’s like that adage about selling houses: all you need is one buyer. We’ll see.
We can see the Queen Mary from here. Can you see the Queen Mary from your window?
Wait-so you never got the computer up and running for your presentation? I suppose it’s a good thing, then, there were so few people in the audience. Still, though…but you know what I always say (because I’m so well-versed in sucessful job-hunting): it’ll look good on a resume. Enjoy the rest of your time there.
I demand the thigh-and-booby pictures. DEMAND, I say.
Sowwy your computer didn’t work. You look like you’re having FUN doing that presentation, though; a real genuine smile.
I want to study Scandinavian Studies. May I?
And yes, I can see the Queen Mary from where I am, thankyouverymuch.
The presentation partly worked. The slides with words and pictures loaded, but the videos loaded only the first few seconds. So all that hard work I’d done on making them was of no use yesterday. Still, people (all two of them) got the general idea.
And what about my thigh-and-booby pictures?
You’ll have to come see your modest mommy in person if you want to see flesh.
Wow. Mommy. You look delicious! Also, you look like a nice teacher.
Wow, thank you, Bully-Stick.