50 Shades of Red

From: Me

Subject: Why?

Date: October 19 2012 12:30 EST

To: My darling Risse

“Why did I ever agree to do this?”

The question spilled out of me as I talked to you this morning about my looming hour-long presentation for my state English conference.

You know I have presented here before, once as part of a group in a writing workshop setting, once as part of a dual lesson presentation linked thematically with another teacher, and last year my first time solo-ing. And I – like you – “present” every day in front of a group of demanding high school juniors and seniors. But the ante is upped when you’re in front of your peers, even if they’re strangers.

“How do I look? Do I have my copies of my packet packed? Do I have my extra paper and markers? Is my opening strong enough? What about the closing? How risky/risqué should I get, with the title of my presentation referencing the very non-English curriculum book 50 Shades of Grey?” And a little irrational Sally Field voice stirs in the back of my mind, “Will they really like me?”

I should have waited until I had my answer.

The presentation was called “50 Shades of Love: Exploring the Lost Genre of Letter Writing.” It was an appeal to teachers to think about teaching a universal theme that is often overlooked: love. And to use a genre that is becoming antiquated: letter writing. The 50 Shades reference was at first just a creative hook, something I always appreciate in choosing presentations to attend, and one you warned me against. But it became a link that I used after reading the book, at your urging, before the conference.

The presentation was admittedly shaky at parts. Perhaps it wasn’t the best strategy to approach an unknown audience by comparing the theme of the book to the total control that administrators expect us to have in the classroom, nor re-reading Christian Grey’s rules for a sexual relationship substituting “Student” every time it said “Submissive” and “Teacher” when it said “Dominant.” Granted, I took out all of the sexual references in it, but still it seemed a good idea at the time. (Example: “The Student will obey any instructions given by the Teacher immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner.”) I can almost see you rolling your eyes at me. It was a risk, I admit, especially with people who don’t know me or how to take me.

Thinking silver lining, however, I was able to bring it around and get the group interaction and discussion going as I had planned as my major goal. And getting participants to write a love letter, or at least a note of appreciation. (I even wrote one myself, for you.)

So, back to the question. “Why did I ever agree to do this?”

I asked another presenter the question to help get an answer. She said she did it as a condition of getting a $500 mini-grant. “Did you get a grant?” she asked.

“No.”

She continued that another possible reason was that we enjoy sharing with fellow English teachers and pre-service teachers something that we’ve taught that worked.

“I never taught this lesson before.”

So still no answer, but I’m glad I asked the question. Because it got me to continue the inquiry that began the first thing this morning, and find my own answer. When the pressure was off.

I did the presentation because I want people to look at things differently. It’s been my major theme with my students for years. You can’t settle for things as they always have been, because times change and you need to be adaptable to any change, I say.

So the way that I should have framed it, to both the veteran teachers and the pre-service teachers, is this:

     I want you to look at what you do. And I want you to look at what the state and federal      

     government mandate that you do. And I want you to put that all aside, because I want to talk to 

     you about looking at yourself, and having your students look at themselves, in a different way.

     When is the last time you explained to someone that you love them? When is the last time that 

     you put it in writing? What has happened to the “love” letter? What has happened to the art 

     of written romance?

     With most people choosing to express their feelings in an email, or tweet, or text message, or 

     sext-message, what are we doing as teachers to teach students about expressing themselves 

     properly, elegantly, in dealing with this most basic of human emotions? What are we having 

     them read to show role models in this universal theme -- Romeo and Juliet? What are we having 

     them write that is as motivating as the expression of love?

     And so in my presentation I give you historical and fictional love letters, from people like Abigail 

     Adams and Macbeth, who really knew how to express their feelings to “My Dearest Friend” 

     and “my dearest partner of greatness.” I give you a guiding structure for the love letter. But most 

     of all, I give you the time here today to write to your significant other, or someone who has had a 

     big influence on you, or someone who has made a difference in your life. And I implore you to 

     give them this letter. And get your students to write and send their letters of love and/or 

     appreciation. Writing doesn’t have to be an assignment, it can be a gift.

That’s what I should have said, if only I had been less concerned with the anxiety of doing what I thought I had to and focused more on what I really wanted to share. And maybe it’s the new reality all teachers face every day in education with the new standards and assessments.

So before I get back to checking how my sub did -- and in this case I do mean by substitute, not Submissive:) -- or get back to lesson planning, or grading, or cleaning the house, or all the million other things that are tangled up in everyday life as a professional, a husband and a father, let me make sure I take my own advice.

Here, Risse, is my gift to you:

When I first saw you smile, I was enticed.

When you held my hand, unexpectedly,

I was entranced.

But when you said “I do,” I was utterly

ridiculously

exquisitely

head-over-heels

happy.

Laters, baby.