Today was a rainy Friday after the midterm. Most students didn't bother showing up, as one would expect. The bad class had some catching up to do because they never pay attention and I can't finish anything. The good class, I decided to reward with some Internet cartoons, thanks to The Oatmeal.
Educational cartoons, of course.
It was funny watching it dawn on them that normal-looking English words can go together in thrilling ways, and that the pictures were worth looking at. Stuff like this doesn't happen to them very often, it seems.
Of course, I had to make it all learn-y and shit.
Once they realized there was more to be learned here than semicolons (which I assured them at the beginning I despise and have no use for, though The Oatmeal did mention a couple of cases where they might be necessary, should you be the sort of person who likes to list dates, locations, or complicated adjective clauses, which I'm not, you can be sure), they started asking questions.
"Teacher, what is 'knuckles?'"
I showed them the knuckles on my hand. "Isn't that 'fist'?" asked a clever one. I pointed out the difference. A murmur went across the room, and another one said, "There's not a word for that in Turkish." Another one got out his trusty telephone and looked it up, but only found the word for 'joint.' "It's for knees and elbows, too," they explained. I was impressed they knew "knee" and "elbow" in English.
"Okay, " I said. "But what do you say when you see a man with hairy knuckles?"
"Teacher," said one kid, very slowly like I was the dumbest person on Earth, "You don't say anything."
Touché.
Educational cartoons, of course.
It was funny watching it dawn on them that normal-looking English words can go together in thrilling ways, and that the pictures were worth looking at. Stuff like this doesn't happen to them very often, it seems.
Of course, I had to make it all learn-y and shit.
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| Best whiteboard ever. |
Once they realized there was more to be learned here than semicolons (which I assured them at the beginning I despise and have no use for, though The Oatmeal did mention a couple of cases where they might be necessary, should you be the sort of person who likes to list dates, locations, or complicated adjective clauses, which I'm not, you can be sure), they started asking questions.
"Teacher, what is 'knuckles?'"
I showed them the knuckles on my hand. "Isn't that 'fist'?" asked a clever one. I pointed out the difference. A murmur went across the room, and another one said, "There's not a word for that in Turkish." Another one got out his trusty telephone and looked it up, but only found the word for 'joint.' "It's for knees and elbows, too," they explained. I was impressed they knew "knee" and "elbow" in English.
"Okay, " I said. "But what do you say when you see a man with hairy knuckles?"
"Teacher," said one kid, very slowly like I was the dumbest person on Earth, "You don't say anything."
Touché.
4 comments:
At least the dumb one didn't say "You don't say nothing."
The dumb one just picks his nose and stares a lot. He's creepy.
Clever little nose picker. In any case, everyone's got hairy knuckles in Turkey, even the women so it doesn't need to be mentioned.
I wish I could tell something to some of the Turkish men with their exposed hairy chests! =)Does your shirt really need to be unbuttoned that far in public?
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