The Life of Bon: November 2010

Thursday, November 04, 2010

The art of kissing

It seems I may have failed to mention that I am currently spending all day every day with the riff raff of West Jordan. I am officially a full time teacher at Copper Hills High School. An adult. Responsible. Legitimate. A career woman.

The kids are out of control.

The first ten minutes of class all kids are supposed to bring their own book and read. Most of them forget. Or just don't bring it. Or prefer to sleep. So I supplied some of my own books so that they don't have an excuse to not read. I guess I should have looked through the books a little more thoroughly before allowing fifteen year olds to let loose on them.

In my stack of books is "The Art of Kissing." I stole it from my sister's house a couple of years ago, skimmed through it, found it interesting, and then threw it in a closet, not to be retrieved again until I was desperately looking for books to put in my classroom. I carelessly threw it in a box with other books, not glancing at the title or the scandalous pic of people making out on the cover. I carried the box into the school, the book never surfacing. An aide put the books on my shelves for me.

And that is how, without my knowing, The Art of Kissing successfully manuevered its way into my classroom and onto my shelf, free for any horny fifteen year old to read.

This morning I was giving a passionate and intense lesson about effective thesis statements. The class was focused. In the zone. I had convinced them that creating a strong thesis would make their whole life complete.

I heard snickering from the corner.

"Yes? Is everything okay?" I asked P, the class clown.
"Ms. Blackburn this book is genius! It is changing my life!" Unlike the rest of the class, P. had not put his book down when the ten free reading minutes were up.(An interesting fact to know is that P had a fat hickey on his neck last week. I teased him mercilessly about it)
"P., I don't think you need to read any more about that subject. Put it away and get out your notebook."
"But Ms. Blackburn. I mean wow! Why you even got this book?" And then reading outloud "A successful romantic kiss will take you to another world. You will be so involved in the kiss that you can't think about anything else." The whole class burst into laughter. I was biting my lip trying to fight the smile.
"P, if you can't be quiet you'll have to go out in to the hall." Usually this threat works. It scares them. Makes them think the hall is evil. Or possessed. Didn't work with P.
"Yah sure I'll go in the hall if I can keep reading this book!"
"Just go!" I demanded. P pranced his way out of the classroom, the book carefully tucked beneath his arm as if a fellow student was going to try to snatch it away from him. He stopped just outside the wide open door and started reading loudly "One of the most sensual places to kiss is behind the ear..."
"P! Close the door!"

At this point the class was gone, their raging hormones causing them to lose it completely in hysterics of giggles.

"Okay guys. Why is it so important that a thesis be debatable?" I tried in vain to get them back. To get them to concentrate. To convince them that they love thesis statements. They were all blusing and smiling and asking if P. could come back in and read more of that book. And then I realized that getting them to refocus on thesis statements was an absolute and utter lost cause.

I mean really... since when has a thesis statement ever been able to compete with the art of kissing?