november 28, 2000. "We had no time to take her to the slaughterhouse last night." - the conversation in the car on the way to school Honestly. Is your car-pool this freaky wonderful? I thought not. (Props to Stacy for pointing out the In Passing site today, which reminded me to write this down after all.) I had so much fun in class today. The thing is, now that I'm on this inhaler with steroid components, I'm not sure if I feel good because things are going well or because I'm just high on goofballs. Still, it's nice to be in the position of trying to decide the question at all. I didn't say much during the first class, as there didn't seem to be that much to say. By the end of the period, I was put into the enviable position of floating watchdog: walking around, helping kids with their theses and trying to keep them from comparing algebra homework. God, I hate that. If I'm standing over a kid, I think the least he can do is pretend to be doing work. I mean, where's the guilt? Where's the unreasoning fear of authority? It's trapped with my generation in 1993, I suppose. During the second period, I was a bit livelier. We were talking about existentialism & nihilism when my co-operating teacher made the comment that punk music was nihilistic. Some of the kids protested, and I found myself talking about Nic (my hardcore punk rock drumming vegan feminist social worker little brother). He believes in almost too many things, man. During the next period, I ended up giving a 30-second explanation of why industrial music is called industrial. ("Have you heard of the German band Kraftwerk?") And when my co-op teacher used the examples of the Ramones and the song "I Don't Wanna Grow Up," I lost it completely. Before I knew what I was doing, I had indignantly squawked, "that's a Tom Waits song!" I really don't know what came over me; I just had this primal desire to protect Tom I suppose. It was in this second period that I delivered my first micro-lecture. We were talking about Oedipal complexes, though I can't for the life of me explain why. I was asked to define the Oedipal complex, so nervous and unprepared, I stood up & began to talk. Freud blah blah stages blah blah oral blah anal blah neutral blah genital blah blah oedipal complex. Sophocles blah blah Electra complex blah blah tenuous ground blah Agamemnon blah. By the end of this, I realized that my knees were about to give; it was then that I figured out that I was terrified. But I had the satisfaction of making a bunch of 16 year olds giggle & cringle at the word "anal," so I think it was worth it. My co-op teacher paid me the compliment of saying, "you know so damn much," especially compared to other student teachers. That's kind of nice to hear. It was also nice in the staff room this morning and lunch hour. At one point we got onto the topic of the Anti-Stephen, and the conversation took on a giggling giddy tone. Petra and I are just consumed by his unique personality - she because she's attracted to the odd and I because all of my best friends are bent in some way and I'd cherished the secret hope that the physical resemblance to St. Stephen would involve a corresponding strangeness of mind & personality. There's not terribly much about the education program that's delightful - it's nice to thoroughly enjoy a personality. What we did, basically, was swap anecdotes. Like his behaviour on the last ed. social. ("I'm dancing because you're a nice Baptist girl," he said to Petra). Or the fact that Josie, our faithful carpool driver, saw him hitchhiking yesterday. (We decided that he was probably doing it for the sheer experience.) At this point in time, sightings of the Anti-Stephen are becoming strange and apocryphal. I love it. I know we're being totally juvenile & silly, but it's so necessary. It's hard to be a student teacher - you don't know if you're fish or fowl or good red herring. Most of the time you're just a bozo in the back of the room scribbling extensive notes on the lecture while the rest of the kids whisper and pass notes. But some of the time, you're "on." And it is to prepare for that "on" time that I shall depart you now. I'll probably lose my high spirits by next evening; tune in tomorrow & find out.