Thursday, March 14, 2013

“Classy Classrooms?”

            My adventures as a substitute teacher mean I find myself visiting many different schools and spending my days slipping into someone’s personal space for eight hours at a time. I can’t help but notice the different atmospheres teachers create within their cinderblock walls.
            When I taught, my classroom became an extension of my personal taste. I usually had a corner designated for reading. For many years, a small couch with a pole lamp squatted in one area next to bookcases loaded with my favorites. Atop these shelves I’d place philodendrons in jugs of water, pictures of my son and pets, and sometimes fresh cut flowers to brighten the room. I always loaded a huge wicker laundry hamper with an assortment of pillows for Pillow Days. If my classes behaved, on Pillow Days, the students could grab their favorite cushion from the pile, retreat under desks, to the couch, or to a private place in the room, and read or write without the constraints of iron-hard chairs and desks. Whether I taught seniors or seventh graders, having days to stretch out with a pillow and a pencil or book became a special treat. Some days, I’d add to the atmosphere by having a “fireplace” by putting orange paper over the overhead projector to cast a warm glow into the room.
            As a substitute, I’ve learned that not all teachers spend as much time or energy on their classrooms as I did, and I have definitely noted the difference between male and female teachers. If I enter a man’s classroom, I find very little personal items on display. Some may have a photograph or two back by their desks, tucked in next to their computers, of their wives, children or pets. Some may even hang their diplomas along one wall. However, the classroom décor ends there. The posters, if any are on the walls, demonstrate functionality—equations or formulas, copies of historical documents, or a list of literary terms and definitions. My recent encounters with these male educators still have more in their rooms than my first department chair. His sparse room contained absolutely no posters except for a leggy pose of Jennifer Beals from Flashdance.
            Women educators utilize their classrooms as an extension of their personal taste. Instead of one or two personal pictures tucked discretely on a corner of their desks, they plaster photographs down entire file cabinets—attached to the metal furniture with frog magnets (or flowers, pigs, roadrunners, shoes—whatever fancy catches the woman’s attention and displays her passions). Personal furniture crams into the room, too. Women teachers tend to have bookcases and brightly painted hutches along a wall. Their cinderblock barely peaks out from behind a multitude of posters—some professionally printed, others work from current or past students. Nick-knacks clutter these women’s desktops and spill onto any open surface. Tape dispensers, staplers, little storage boxes—all color or theme coordinated!
            I doubt decorating a classroom impacts student learning directly. Studies probably show little correlation between the posters displayed in a room (or lack thereof) and student performance. However, I believe that the more “at home” a teacher feels within his or her space, the more that educator will enjoy the time spent in the classroom. Whether the utilitarian and uncluttered, streamline masculine décor or the colorful embellishments of the feminine influence, if an educator’s classroom becomes an extension of personality, everyone benefits.   
Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

“Burying Dead Bodies”

            My warped mind exercises itself by plotting murders.
            I’ve burned, poisoned, bludgeoned, and strangled. I’ve “run through with a sword” and run over with a car. I’ve frozen and thawed. I’ve sliced-n-diced.
            I don’t know when playing these mind games started, and I’m glad my sociopathic side stays strongly secure within make-believe.
            Imagine my pleasure when I stumbled upon the knowledge that iPhone’s Siri recites a list of where to hide dead bodies! I delighted in learning that someone “out there” thinks in the same murky waters that I find my own mind trolling.
            Siri’s list contains, however, the obvious places:  reservoirs, metal foundries, mines, dumps, and swamps. So I’m spending my downtime during spring break generating a new and unique list of disposal of my victims.
            Of course, I definitely won’t share this list with my readers. Because, you know—I may need to use it one day!

Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman