A Typical Monday Afternoon English Class
I wrote this towards the end of year 11, as a reflection piece on year 11 going on to year 12, it still makes me laugh today, as this is a serious, typical, year 11 English class. As my teacher Mrs Chessell later reflected, "I hope your wasted afternoons in my English class didn't affect your results TOO much". Please read and comment :P.
Statement of intention – This piece of writing is intended to reflect upon the past year of school, and well as question what may lie ahead in the next. It is also intended to be a humorous piece, and can be enjoyed by anybody, thought it may ring truer for current students and parents of VCE students. This is also one of my last few chances to complain about English, and I hope that my teacher is not TOO offended by this piece. :)
A Typical Monday Afternoon English Class
Bell rings. All start to move towards lockers. People cluster around in small groups chatting, none of them quite ready to accept that lunchtime is over. A few of the more studious students begin to slowly unlock locks and pull out books, before shuffling off to class. Others continue conversations until the year level coordinator comes out of his office and tells everyone to, "Get to class!!!" Few heed this immediately but begin to wrap up their discussions. Lunch ends at twelve forty-five, but class doesn’t start until one o’clock.
Depending on the class each student had, as well as the students themselves, different objects would be taken out of lockers. For example, if it was Corey and it was Indonesian, there would be a container of rice and a can of tuna. If it was Sarah and it was History, some form of fiction novel would find its way in. It’s the little things that get us through our classes. In this instance it’s English, and the iPods are hastily stuffed into pencil cases and shirt pockets.
As a group we move towards the English room tentatively, hoping that by some mysterious miracle our teacher is away and that we get a ‘study’ session instead. We are usually disappointed, as Mrs Chessell, being the dedicated woman she is to her job, is always there, and is never late either. Our dawdling pays off. Generally the first into the room, we get the first pick of seats. Middle row suits wells, towards the windows, but usually tables are all over the place and must be dragged around.
Nagging begins. Jess begins her bombardment of Mrs Chessell, "What are we doing today?" "That sucks" "This is crap" "The text sucks" "Everything sucks". The class is used to it by now after three terms. Other students ask for work back, and discuss the highs and lows of the marking system.
12.55 and by now there are at least fifteen students in the classroom. Give it another twenty minutes and the whole twenty-four will be there, but the class must press on.
We begin. Go over work that hasn’t been handed in yet. Ironically, the people who haven’t handed in their work aren’t here yet, and as they dribble into class, Mrs Chessell goes back to the start to explain what they owe. Discussions brew underneath the teacher’s words, and eventually, she is unable to be heard. Moves on, passes out hand outs.
We have had some shockers of handouts, but this seems to be the worst. VCE comes to our house. Written by a mother. We read the article out as a class, reading a paragraph each. We have all finished the article by the time the second paragraph is being read out loud, and we don’t understand why we must go through this inane ritual.
The article is long and intended to be funny yet falls short. This woman has no idea about VCE! We could write better articles about it and we aren’t in it until next year! A picture that is set above the article is hastily defaced and moustached. Nearly missed it.
The whole class is now in attendance, and the reason for the article is still unknown. Then we are hit with it. "This is your topic for your next folio piece; to reflect upon this year and speculate about next year." Yuck cough spew. We all hate this topic. Bad enough to have to live through the year, but reflect upon it? And next year is a year we are all trying to forget about.
Year 12. The big one. The one you spend twelve years of your life preparing for. The one where you are supposed to drop everything you’ve ever done to study solid for ten months. You hear the horror stories and you think ah, it’ll all be different next year. It won’t be as hard. But somewhere inside you know that it won’t be any easier for you than it was for them. You live it up this year because you know that next year you will have to knuckle down. Study will become your middle name and by the end of it you will never want to see a book again. That is what we see year 12 as.
We all reflect upon this sort of thing, but nobody picks up his or her pen, uneager to be the one who actually writes all of that and submits it. Mrs Chessell then hands out criterion for the folio. Robyn and Jess pull out paper and pen. Hangman of course.
Criterion 1: (10 Marks)
Knowledge and control of the chosen content and exploration of complex ideas and information.
"I give up"
"No, guess!"
"I give up!!!"
"NO you have to guess!"
"It’s not a Queen lyric is it?"
"No way! Guess!"
"OK, give me an S"
"Yup."
"OH I GET IT NOW…the Spice Girls? Jess…"
Shhhhh girls"
Criterion 2 (10 Marks)
Ability to select language features, structure and content appropriate to the intended audience and intended purpose of the piece.
"Ummmm b?"
"Yes, two."
"Okay, ‘lucky that my breasts are small and humble, so you don’t confuse them with mountains’, is that it?"
"Ha ha yes! Do you remember that song?"
"Um…no."
"Shakira!"
"Oh my God yes I do! That’s way old!"
"Yeah I know we were talking about it in chem!"
Matt and Mark turn around. "Shakira? I could think of a way better one than that."
"SHUT UP MARK"
"Will you all shut up! This is what the criterion sheet will look like next year!"
Criterion 3 (8 Marks)
Coherence and effective organisation
"Jess it’s your go."
"I know!"
"Hurry up!"
"Ahhhh ok fine!"_ _ _ _/_ _/_ _ _
"Ummm, a?" _ A _ _/_ _/_ _ _
"E?" _ A _ _/_ _/ E _ _
"S?" _ A _ _/_ S/ E _ _
"R?" _AR _/_ S/ E _ _
"M?"
"Damn!" MAR _/_ S/ EM_
"Ahhhh ‘Mark is emo’"
"Hey! I’m not emo!"
"Yeah Mark you keep telling yourself that!"
"If I have to speak to you lot one more time you’re off to Mr Wilson"
Criterion 4 (7 Marks)
Control of the conventions of the English language
"You’ll know this one"
"I don’t know it Robyn!"
"You know this one!"
"OK, um, G?"
"Yes!"
"Hahahahaha ‘Gang wars!’"
"That’s right!"
Across the classroom Sarah F and Steph hear us.
"Gang wars!"
School production binds us all together months after it is all over.
"Will you lot shut up and let me finish explaining this!"
We lose interest in hangman and take to watching the clock. Some of us do work, though general chatter prevails though out the class.
Two boys that had until now been absent wander into class.
"We were watching the footy finals."
"And the fight was awesome!"
It so happens that they have the tape with them and they begin to load it up into the VCR. Mrs Chessell makes a feeble protest, before giving up and allowing us to watch the fight ‘just once’.
The whole class leaves their seats and crowds around the television. They spend ten minutes trying to find the fight, and two minutes watching it.
"Oh I missed the part where Rory hits Hendo"
Rewind, watch it again. Mrs Chessell tells everyone to get back to his or her seats.
We begin to work, with many people slowly adjusting earphones subtly so as to not get caught. There are plenty of secret ways that no student in their right mind would divulge to any authorities.
Michael needs a sheet, so Mrs Chessell rushes out to get one from her office. Tape is loaded into VCR, watch the fight again.
Fifteen minutes until the bell. Book are put away, hangman paper is screwed up into a ball and thrown at someone. We stand up as a whole, as we have been given permission to leave class early.
There is chaos as we all try to leave. The sounds of chairs scraping against tables are prevalent. Door slams several times, as no one holds the door open. Everyone just wants to leave.
Class is out early and the shuffle begins. Nobody wants to be first to History, or Accounting, or General Math, or whatever subject they have then. Novels and tuna come out, slow shuffle, don’t go too fast or you’ll get there first.
Life is a series of small rituals and it’s those rituals that get you through every year, every week, every Monday afternoon English class. Next year is going to be a big change to these rituals, but we’ll all step up to them. After all, without hangman or footy grand finals where would we be? Perhaps learning more, but in the end, if that’s what makes us happy, then maybe we should just do it.
Statement of intention – This piece of writing is intended to reflect upon the past year of school, and well as question what may lie ahead in the next. It is also intended to be a humorous piece, and can be enjoyed by anybody, thought it may ring truer for current students and parents of VCE students. This is also one of my last few chances to complain about English, and I hope that my teacher is not TOO offended by this piece. :)
A Typical Monday Afternoon English Class
Bell rings. All start to move towards lockers. People cluster around in small groups chatting, none of them quite ready to accept that lunchtime is over. A few of the more studious students begin to slowly unlock locks and pull out books, before shuffling off to class. Others continue conversations until the year level coordinator comes out of his office and tells everyone to, "Get to class!!!" Few heed this immediately but begin to wrap up their discussions. Lunch ends at twelve forty-five, but class doesn’t start until one o’clock.
Depending on the class each student had, as well as the students themselves, different objects would be taken out of lockers. For example, if it was Corey and it was Indonesian, there would be a container of rice and a can of tuna. If it was Sarah and it was History, some form of fiction novel would find its way in. It’s the little things that get us through our classes. In this instance it’s English, and the iPods are hastily stuffed into pencil cases and shirt pockets.
As a group we move towards the English room tentatively, hoping that by some mysterious miracle our teacher is away and that we get a ‘study’ session instead. We are usually disappointed, as Mrs Chessell, being the dedicated woman she is to her job, is always there, and is never late either. Our dawdling pays off. Generally the first into the room, we get the first pick of seats. Middle row suits wells, towards the windows, but usually tables are all over the place and must be dragged around.
Nagging begins. Jess begins her bombardment of Mrs Chessell, "What are we doing today?" "That sucks" "This is crap" "The text sucks" "Everything sucks". The class is used to it by now after three terms. Other students ask for work back, and discuss the highs and lows of the marking system.
12.55 and by now there are at least fifteen students in the classroom. Give it another twenty minutes and the whole twenty-four will be there, but the class must press on.
We begin. Go over work that hasn’t been handed in yet. Ironically, the people who haven’t handed in their work aren’t here yet, and as they dribble into class, Mrs Chessell goes back to the start to explain what they owe. Discussions brew underneath the teacher’s words, and eventually, she is unable to be heard. Moves on, passes out hand outs.
We have had some shockers of handouts, but this seems to be the worst. VCE comes to our house. Written by a mother. We read the article out as a class, reading a paragraph each. We have all finished the article by the time the second paragraph is being read out loud, and we don’t understand why we must go through this inane ritual.
The article is long and intended to be funny yet falls short. This woman has no idea about VCE! We could write better articles about it and we aren’t in it until next year! A picture that is set above the article is hastily defaced and moustached. Nearly missed it.
The whole class is now in attendance, and the reason for the article is still unknown. Then we are hit with it. "This is your topic for your next folio piece; to reflect upon this year and speculate about next year." Yuck cough spew. We all hate this topic. Bad enough to have to live through the year, but reflect upon it? And next year is a year we are all trying to forget about.
Year 12. The big one. The one you spend twelve years of your life preparing for. The one where you are supposed to drop everything you’ve ever done to study solid for ten months. You hear the horror stories and you think ah, it’ll all be different next year. It won’t be as hard. But somewhere inside you know that it won’t be any easier for you than it was for them. You live it up this year because you know that next year you will have to knuckle down. Study will become your middle name and by the end of it you will never want to see a book again. That is what we see year 12 as.
We all reflect upon this sort of thing, but nobody picks up his or her pen, uneager to be the one who actually writes all of that and submits it. Mrs Chessell then hands out criterion for the folio. Robyn and Jess pull out paper and pen. Hangman of course.
Criterion 1: (10 Marks)
Knowledge and control of the chosen content and exploration of complex ideas and information.
"I give up"
"No, guess!"
"I give up!!!"
"NO you have to guess!"
"It’s not a Queen lyric is it?"
"No way! Guess!"
"OK, give me an S"
"Yup."
"OH I GET IT NOW…the Spice Girls? Jess…"
Shhhhh girls"
Criterion 2 (10 Marks)
Ability to select language features, structure and content appropriate to the intended audience and intended purpose of the piece.
"Ummmm b?"
"Yes, two."
"Okay, ‘lucky that my breasts are small and humble, so you don’t confuse them with mountains’, is that it?"
"Ha ha yes! Do you remember that song?"
"Um…no."
"Shakira!"
"Oh my God yes I do! That’s way old!"
"Yeah I know we were talking about it in chem!"
Matt and Mark turn around. "Shakira? I could think of a way better one than that."
"SHUT UP MARK"
"Will you all shut up! This is what the criterion sheet will look like next year!"
Criterion 3 (8 Marks)
Coherence and effective organisation
"Jess it’s your go."
"I know!"
"Hurry up!"
"Ahhhh ok fine!"_ _ _ _/_ _/_ _ _
"Ummm, a?" _ A _ _/_ _/_ _ _
"E?" _ A _ _/_ _/ E _ _
"S?" _ A _ _/_ S/ E _ _
"R?" _AR _/_ S/ E _ _
"M?"
"Damn!" MAR _/_ S/ EM_
"Ahhhh ‘Mark is emo’"
"Hey! I’m not emo!"
"Yeah Mark you keep telling yourself that!"
"If I have to speak to you lot one more time you’re off to Mr Wilson"
Criterion 4 (7 Marks)
Control of the conventions of the English language
"You’ll know this one"
"I don’t know it Robyn!"
"You know this one!"
"OK, um, G?"
"Yes!"
"Hahahahaha ‘Gang wars!’"
"That’s right!"
Across the classroom Sarah F and Steph hear us.
"Gang wars!"
School production binds us all together months after it is all over.
"Will you lot shut up and let me finish explaining this!"
We lose interest in hangman and take to watching the clock. Some of us do work, though general chatter prevails though out the class.
Two boys that had until now been absent wander into class.
"We were watching the footy finals."
"And the fight was awesome!"
It so happens that they have the tape with them and they begin to load it up into the VCR. Mrs Chessell makes a feeble protest, before giving up and allowing us to watch the fight ‘just once’.
The whole class leaves their seats and crowds around the television. They spend ten minutes trying to find the fight, and two minutes watching it.
"Oh I missed the part where Rory hits Hendo"
Rewind, watch it again. Mrs Chessell tells everyone to get back to his or her seats.
We begin to work, with many people slowly adjusting earphones subtly so as to not get caught. There are plenty of secret ways that no student in their right mind would divulge to any authorities.
Michael needs a sheet, so Mrs Chessell rushes out to get one from her office. Tape is loaded into VCR, watch the fight again.
Fifteen minutes until the bell. Book are put away, hangman paper is screwed up into a ball and thrown at someone. We stand up as a whole, as we have been given permission to leave class early.
There is chaos as we all try to leave. The sounds of chairs scraping against tables are prevalent. Door slams several times, as no one holds the door open. Everyone just wants to leave.
Class is out early and the shuffle begins. Nobody wants to be first to History, or Accounting, or General Math, or whatever subject they have then. Novels and tuna come out, slow shuffle, don’t go too fast or you’ll get there first.
Life is a series of small rituals and it’s those rituals that get you through every year, every week, every Monday afternoon English class. Next year is going to be a big change to these rituals, but we’ll all step up to them. After all, without hangman or footy grand finals where would we be? Perhaps learning more, but in the end, if that’s what makes us happy, then maybe we should just do it.
posted by Jesicka309 @ Sunday, February 10, 2008
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