It only took two years for one of my students to find the blog. So, now I’ve gotta be more careful about what I write. Not that I wasn’t careful already, but I was probably slipping as service was coming to an end. Still, DC and Kyiv read our blog pretty much religiously (not a testament to the writing but more indicative of big brother tapping the phone lines) so we don’t say all that we could…or should. Gotta wait for the post-PC book for that. Gotta use my seven journals full of scribbling for something, don’t I?
Less than two months! Actually, 57 days. Of course I’m counting….
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I just wanted to pop up here and briefly share a poem one of my students—we’ll call him T—wrote in one of my classes. I asked for a volunteer who wouldn’t mind if I shared his or her poetry—in the lesson, we were discussing symbolism in poetry. A boy raised his hand and I present you his poem.
Man go to fishing in village. In village
he breading a fresh air. Man
go to village in horse.
There are good dishes.
My friend skiing
on snowboard on snow.
My friend can skiing to 12 o’clock.
More refreshing than his grammatically flawed, yet original (praise God) prose was the fact that though the rest of his group mates ditched their class (their teacher just didn’t come to school that day), T came into my class and asked if he could join our lesson. He wanted to learn English, he said. He didn’t want to sit around and do nothing. I was happily shocked.
So here’s to you T! Good work!
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