Mrs. Ram's Jams

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    • A Poem: Sunshine and Turpentine

      Posted at 10:03 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on April 11, 2020

      On an indigo whim,
      she sweeps her soul into sunshine and turpentine,
      whispering its bouquet to the wind.

      It butterflies like dandelion fluff,
      parachuting on the breeze.

      While teasing the ground,
      with ambrosial and noisome sounds,
      it harmonizes into hymns of him–
      a heady elixir that grieves the miles, the years, the bigger picture–
      and lands on his sleeve.

      He breathes in her song, her scent–
      what went wrong and what it all meant–
      and breathes out: I was never enough.

      white dandelion under blue sky and white cloud

      Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

      Posted in poems, poetry, Uncategorized | 3 Comments | Tagged poem, poems, poetry, writing
    • Why I Love and Hate Teaching Romeo and Juliet

      Posted at 3:34 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on February 22, 2020

      Psssttt. Here’s a secret. This English teacher hates Romeo and Juliet more than the Montagues and Capulets loathe each other. (I know. Gasp. Shocked emoji face. Call Karen in HR and fire me right now.) And because it’s entrenched in the freshman canon, I will never escape its overtly romantical clutches as long as I am teaching English I. 

      Why do I hate Romeo and Juliet and teaching it?

      1. Romeo, a whiny lover boy ruled by his teenage emotions, is my least favorite Shakespeare character. I spend the entire time wanting to smack him and talk some logic into him. 
      2. Benvolio sucks too. Whenever something big happens on stage, Benvolio summarizes the just-happened events for new-to-the-scene characters. 
      3. The way Romeo and Juliet talk to one another makes me gag. Love stories aren’t my Ram Jam. 
      4. The students harp on the fact that Juliet is 13 and never recover from it. They also debate Romeo’s age endlessly (The text never gives it.). They talk about this the ENTIRE time we’re reading. 
      5. It’s full of sexual innuendo, and I teach middle school. Need I say more? 
      6. I’d much rather tackle The Taming of the Shrew, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Othello, or Macbeth. 

      And while I do lather on the Romeo and Juliet hate thick, I love teaching it for almost the same reasons I despise teaching it.

      1. I take my hate and shout it from the desktops from the beginning. It’s simple really. I let the kids know I hate Romeo and Benvolio. I don’t tell the students why. I string them along and build interest to hook them, revealing tidbits here and there why I hate Romeo and Benvolio as the acts unfold. I use my Romeo hate to teach characterization. I use my Benvolio hate to teach summarizing. I make my hate passionate, fun, and refreshing instead of letting it bring my lessons down. Frequently, the kids hate Romeo too, and we bond through our mutual dislike. 
      2. Even though it’s a love story and the ooey-gooey language makes me cringe, I appreciate the poetry. We analyze the heck out of the figurative language and poetic structure of Romeo and Juliet’s dialogue. For example, when Romeo and Juliet meet for the first time, they actually start rhyming together in their religious imagery-filled banter and wind up creating a shared mini sonnet, which is pretty freaking cool from a structural standpoint. 
      3. The kids relate to the teenage emotions running rampant throughout the text even though they pretend that all of the kissing mortifies them. We discuss why it’s important to not be ruled by emotions and how to consider situations logically. 
      4. The kids have zero knowledge of Elizabethan theater and England before they start reading and are fascinated by what they learn. The fact that it was illegal for women to act so men played all the parts blows their minds. They’re horrified and enthralled when they discover women could get married at twelve years old and were sometimes married to much older men. They have no concept that modern medicine did not apply back then, women often died in childbirth, and child death rates were high. They’re floored when they realize Nurse was Juliet’s wet nurse and that the word nurse etymologically stems from a Latin word meaning “to nourish.” 
      5. On the day we start Act I Scene 1, I tell them Shakespeare is a dirty old white guy to prepare them for the puns and hook them into the play. You might find this method a little shocking, but have you read this play? It’s full of inappropriate jokes, and while it might have gone over your head when you were in high school, my kids understand what they’re reading. If I didn’t prepare them for the dirty jokes, my lesson could crash and burn in a million different ways. They appreciate being treated like adults. When I handle it this way, it minimizes the puns, and we’re able to focus on the storyline and the structure. 
      6. Even though Romeo and Juliet isn’t my favorite play, I love Shakespeare and theater. I’m able to channel that love into a play I hate (My only love sprung from my only hate! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.). I’m in my element when I’ve got the bard and a script in front of me, and the students see the best me when this unit rolls around each year. 

      drama-312318_640

      What are some texts you hate but you have to teach? I’d love to hear! I’d also love to know why and what you do to combat your hate to make interesting lessons. 

       

      (Also, another shocker, I’m not a huge fan of To Kill a Mockingbird—but that’s a whole other blog post.)

       

      Posted in books, poetry, reading, teaching, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments | Tagged benvolio, blogging, blogs, drama, english teacher, i hate romeo and juliet, juliet, plays, poetry, reading, romeo, romeo and juliet, shakespeare, teaching, teaching shakespeare, writing
    • A Poem: The Sated Double Standard

      Posted at 3:09 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on February 15, 2020

      pampered, never neglected, but unheard
      isolated, never surrounded, but invalidated
      waiting, never going, but placating
      hating the sated double standard

      Posted in poems, poetry, Uncategorized, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, challenge, daily challenge, daily post, daily prompt, daily word, isoloate, pampered, poem, poems, poetry, ragtag daily prompt, rdp, waiting
    • A Teacher Poem: Buzz Words

      Posted at 11:17 am by Mrs. Ram Jam, on January 25, 2020

      begin with the end in mind, AKA backward design
      Common Core and 504
      ELL, STEM, and IEP are not absentee (But if they were, you’d have to let them make up the work, for sure.)
      collaborate and debate
      Claim retired, and its replacement is assertion; try teaching that to little persons.

      rigor
      response
      reflection
      rubric
      will point you in the right (write?) direction

      facilitate with fidelity; provide actionable feedback . . . (but don’t call in sick unless you’re having a heart attack)
      Is your summative assessment warm or cold? (Grab a blanket–so we’re told.)
      flip the classroom; personalize learning (to get their brains churning)

      What’s the objective? 
      Does it align with the standards?
      How does the curriculum get them college and career ready?

      Scaffold.
      Differentiate.
      Rigor.
      Peer conversations.
      Rigor.
      Text complexity.

      Rigor.
      Rigor.
      Rigor.

      Build relationships. 
      Rigor.
      One to one.
      Rigor.
      Lexile.
      Rigor. 

      Rigor.
      Rigor.
      Rigor.

      TRIGGER WARNING

      The kids still find it boring.

      And by week’s end, the only buzz words we care about are Tito’s, tequila, and Tanqueray (with honorable mentions to happy hour and chardonnay).

      close up photo of person holding wine glass

      Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

      Posted in poems, poetry, teaching, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged blogging, blogs, english teacher, humor, middle school teacher, poems, poems about teaching, poetry, teacher, teaching, teaching middle school, writing
    • A Poem About Ulcerative Colitis: The Ouroboros

      Posted at 2:01 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on January 18, 2020

      What does ulcerative colitis feel like? Here’s my best poetic attempt.


      twisted under blankets to smother

      the bushfire 
      raging through the
      death adder
      hissing 
      flicking its forked tongue
      fangs
      puncturing smoke and blaze
      scarring its wake vermilion, bitter, black
      sloughing its cinders
      a phoenix-masked ouroboros

      twisted under fire blankets aching for the rain


      As always, invisible illness only remains invisible unless we talk about it.  I hope all my fellow chronic pain sufferers find their rain soon.

      rain-863339_1920

       

       

      Posted in chronic pain, poems, poetry, ulcerative colitis, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged blogging, blogs, chronic illness, chronic pain, ibd, inflammatory bowel disease, invisible illness, poems, poetry, ulcerative colitis, writing
    • A Poem: English Class Will Never Be Baseball

      Posted at 3:40 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on September 21, 2019

      English class will never be baseball.

      Cracking open a book can’t compete with the crack of the bat and the crowd’s cheers for you.

      Fumbling through Homer’s The Odyssey will feel more like fumbling a grounder in the bottom of the ninth during a tied game than hitting a homer to win it all.

      Throwing words around with a pen and paper to write an essay will never rival throwing warm-up pitches in the bullpen.

      The thunk of the catcher’s hand pounding his mitt between curveballs and changeups will never sound like “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” nor The Catcher in the Rye.

      Wry puns and satire will never play hardball in your playbook. Three strikes you’re out and triple plays are more important to you than the rule of threes and idioms.

      Sliding into second and shaking hands at the game’s end will never be sliding into the second act of a Shakespeare play.

      And that’s just fine, sluggers, because English class isn’t supposed to be baseball, but the real MVPs and big leaguers value both.

      baseball

      Photo by Matthew T Rader on Pexels.com

       

      Posted in poems, poetry, reading, teaching, Uncategorized, writing | 4 Comments | Tagged baseball, blogging, blogs, english class, english teacher, middle school teacher, poems, poems about teaching, poetry, teaching, teaching boys, teaching middle school, writing
    • A Poem: You’re the Apple of my Eye, Phone

      Posted at 1:50 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on August 24, 2019

      you’re the apple of my eye phone the best pal I’ve ever known

      olive you so much that I’ve lost the common touch I’d rather touch my screen than plum give two shoulder shrugs about my hygiene let alone being publicly seen

      yore the apple of my eye phone the best pal I’ve ever known

      when I’m in the driver’s seat I don’t need my eyes on the road because I’m gazing at my lap typing in my passcode and texting eggplant emojis to my bestie sorry about not paying attention at that last red light don’t get testy btw thanks for the courtesy honk I was ordering personalized t’s from etsy

      your the apple of my eye phone the best pal I’ve ever known

      I no longer care about capitalizing letters punctuation or spelling correctly scrolling through facebook is more compelling than peeling pineapples for a crisp confusing sentences are the new who dis and peals of laughter dissolve into the will o’ the wisps

      yore I meant your dammit autocorrect you’re the apple of my iPhone the best pal I’ve ever known

      Posted in poems, poetry, Uncategorized, writing | 3 Comments | Tagged Apple of my eye, blogging, blogs, iPhone, poems, poems about technology, poetry, writing
    • A Poem: Timeworn

      Posted at 12:42 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on July 13, 2019

      Don’t blink.
      Clichéd lip sync.
      The pitter-patter of little feet.
      Buckle them into their car seats.

      Time flies.
      Hackneyed reprise.
      They grow up too fast.
      Romanticize the past.

      Clichéd lip sync.
      Buckle them into their car seats.

      Let them be little.
      Trite transmittal.
      Time please slow down.
      Stave off nervous breakdowns.

      Clichéd lip sync.
      Buckle them into their car seats.

      Where has the time gone?
      Banal yawns.
      Can’t they stay little forever?
      Attempt to keep it together.

      Mama needs a drink.
      Clichéd lip sync
      because society pretends motherhood is always sweet.
      Buckle them into their car seats.

      Posted in kids, parenting, poems, Uncategorized, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged blogging, blogs, don't blink, kids, parenting, poems, poetry, time flies, writing
    • A Poem: Collecting Dust in the Dungeon

      Posted at 5:34 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on March 23, 2019

      I am a day late using this word prompt! My bad! Please forgive me daily word prompt aficionados! Also, it’s a bit of a mess. Like me.


      a dungeon of

      Birds Killed and Mocked and Thorns

      Letters Scarlett O’Hara-ed in the Wind

      Gatsby’s Expectations unGrateful

      Naked Juliets and suicidal Romeos

      Mice, Lennie, and George Orwell

      451 flames flickering like 5 Slaughterhouses ignited

      Purple Arms will never Color Farewell in a Dark Tower

      because they’re collecting dust in the dungeon

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

      Posted in books, poems, poetry, reading, Uncategorized, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, blogs, books, dungeon, poems, poetry, reading, writing
    • A Poem: Her Mom Instead of Her Mommy

      Posted at 11:27 pm by Mrs. Ram Jam, on March 15, 2019

      Have you seen My?
      She’s been lost for a while,
      and I’m in denial
      because I’ll never get to tell her bye.

      Once she’s gone, she’s gone forever,
      and I’m not just yet ready for never
      again to have my My.

      Oh my my!
      Oh how I cried
      and died
      a little inside
      when I realized My was a thing of the past
      because Mommy is gone and Mom is here at long last.

      And My is no longer the end but the beginning, my mom instead of Mommy.
      And oh my my!
      Oh how I cry
      and die a little inside
      because I have to learn to be her mom instead of her mommy.

      Posted in kids, parenting, poems, poetry, Uncategorized, writing | 1 Comment | Tagged blogging, kids, parenting, poems, poems about kids, poetry, writing
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