Tuesday 11 December 2012

7. You be the teacher! - Hitcher


We are working in taking the fear out of poetry at the moment in class in preparation for your Unseen Poetry section of the Literature exam paper you will take in the summer. You are all coming along well but we still have a way to go.

You have said as a class that you learn best when a teacher respects you, is relaxed and connects with you as an individual, is passionate about their subject, enthusiastic, allows you to discuss things (e.g. circle time), makes it practical (doing stuff) and is knowledgable. I could not agree more, these are great things for you to focus on in this task.

So I have challenged you to teach a poem to the class that you have never seen before. This task was met with responses ranging from "Yeah, whatever! That is easy" to "Oh me god...how do we do that?". You will be great, you are the experts as you see teachers all the time and know what works well. Think about how you will get them interested (starter), what you will do in the main section of the session and what you want the class to know at the end of you session and how you will assess this. No pressure then guys!

You have finished 45 minutes group planning in class and will have some time to finish off at the start of the lesson on Thursday and we will then begin the student lead lessons. We will have a class discussoion on your poem after you teach it so be ready for questions.


Freya, Simran, Megan, Annabel, Tom and Sophia - over to you!

Hitcher

       I’d been tired, under
the weather, but the ansaphone kept screaming:
One more sick-note, mister, and you’re finished. Fired.
I thumbed a lift to where the car was parked.
5     A Vauxhall Astra.  It was hired.

I picked him up in Leeds.
He was following the sun to west from east
with just a toothbrush and the good earth for a bed.  The truth,
he said, was blowin’ in the wind,
10   or round the next bend.

I let him have it
on the top road out of Harrogate – once
with the head, then six times with the krooklok
in the face – and didn’t even swerve.
15   I dropped it into third

and leant across
to let him out, and saw him in the mirror
bouncing off the kerb, then disappearing down the verge.
We were the same age, give or take a week.
20   He’d said he liked the breeze

to run its fingers
through his hair.  It was twelve noon.
The outlook for the day was moderate to fair
Stitch that, I remember thinking,
25   you can walk from there.

 

    


 

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