Thursday, Oct. 14, 2004
Thursday night exhaustion, posted at 8:36 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com By Thursday, lately, my exhaustion has reached epic proportions. I can remember a few Thursdays in a row now in which I just come home, and struggle to keep my eyes open while I sleepwalk through the motions of checking my e-mail and eating dinner. I'm sure it has a lot to do with getting up at 4:30am in the mornings to go to the gym, but it very well might be about not doing it, as well, as I don't usually make my morning trip to the gym on Thursdays because I figure I can do it in the afternoon. This is always a mistake, but I'm so tired by the time Thursday comes that I generally just do it anyway. I haven't gone yet this Thursday afternoon/evening, and I'm not sure if I will.So I had my after school film series today, which kept me at school until after six but it's well worth it. We watched Dead Man Walking and had a brief discussion afterwards about its connections to A Lesson Before Dying. There are quite a few. There's certainly plenty for an essay there, because there are striking similarities (one person guides another to redemption and dignity while on death row, and both the guiders and the prisoners change as a result) as well key differences (the film removes the important component of racism out of the equation, and the death row inmate is guilty of the crime he commits). His guilt, though, in a way equalizes the films in some way. A Lesson Before Dying has very little, if any, elements of trying to appeal the decision. Because Jefferson is a black man in the 1940s south, there's no way he can fight his case. In a weird way, this is similar to the Sean Penn character, because his extreme guilt makes the film all about finding his redemption, and only a small amount focuses on appeals. Neither work is really about the death penalty. Both use the death penalty as a vehicle for portraying a man's search for redemption and dignity.
And now I'm at home, having taken the fatal nap between 7pm and 8:30pm, and must decide if I should throw in the towel for the evening and just go back to bed, or try to accomplish something like go to the gym and to the grocery store. I'm not even leaning any way, yet. I would have liked to have gone to the dollar store to get a broom, because they have cut custodial staff so much that my classroom hasn't been cleaned in three days, so I think I have to break out the broom. But I think they probably close at 9pm and I'll never get there in time. I could go to the gym now that I'm awake, and get a bit of a workout in so I don't feel like such a lazy bum. But, eh, it's not really grabbing me right now.
I was supposed to be on a date right now, seeing Uncle Vanya at the Everyman Theatre. But she never returned my call, and the e-mail I sent to the address I thought I had for her bounced. But I can't imagine doing anything socially this evening, so it's for the best. Rose almost talked me into going to see Margaret Cho at the Hippo tonight, but I was too exhausted, and $36 was too steep. I've never seen a comedian live, and Margaret Cho (the Richard Pryor of the 2000s) is is my favorite, but I still haven't even bought her latest CD and that's probably money better spent since it lasts longer.
I suppose I could just go lay down and read Peace Like a River, this month's book club selection for my English department. I'm on page 12 and we discuss the book tomorrow. Ugh.
I'm leaning towards going to Bally's getting on a machine, and reading it there. It'll probably be good for me. I wish I hadn't eaten that sandwich.
By the way, tonight I realized that the choice of making a sandwich instead of just having cold cereal qualifies as ambitious dinner preparation for me. I was just going to have cereal, but I thought, no, I'll treat myself: I'll have a sandwich.
**
Today I had an experience with a kid who has done nothing for me all year and is failing badly with a 40%. He did turn in his essay, though, and had asked me a couple of times to make sure it was one of the first I graded. I could tell he was proud of it. I read the essay, and it wasn't bad, but it wasn't an "A". Or a "B," for that matter, or even passing. So I had a dilemma - how can I score this thing without getting him too down so he wouldn't do his work for me, but without lowering my standards for him.
So I called him up to my desk and read his essay, unscored, with him. I scored it along with him. I asked him where his thesis was. (He didn't have one.) He looked for it, and then pointed to a rhetorical question at the end of his introduction. I told him that a thesis statement is a statement, not a question. He tells me, "Yeah, but I didn't really know what I wanted to say until I was done."
I could have hugged him. "That's!", I said, "exactly what you should be using writing for! To figure something out. That's what good writers do!" He smiled. I smiled. I told him that it was great to hear him say that, because now I can tell he's going to be a good student for me, because he was using writing as a tool for himself, not just as something to please a teacher with. I scored his essay as a 64 and am letting him (along with everyone else) rewrite it if he wants. I hope he does. I think he will.