Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Do What I Say, Not What I Do


With apologies to Jane Austen: It is a truth universally acknowledged that teachers get lesson plan ideas from some strange places. (Can you discern I am cleaning out files??)

Years ago, I was helping a friend prepare her two pre-schoolers for the cul-de-sac’s block party when I got the inspiration for one of my most popular lessons in Public Speaking. Sherri’s 5-year-old, Cassy, twirled around the living room in her Cinderella costume while her mom and I struggled to get 4-year-old Sean into the cowboy outfit he had chosen but now decided would not do as he had changed his mind in favor Batman. The doorbell’s chime interrupted the twirling and the struggling.  Cassy danced to answer it and returned with Joyce, Sherri’s 17-year-old niece who was going to shepherd the kids around the neighborhood. Joyce was dressed as a diva: bejeweled and bedazzled in mauve sateen capris topped by something gauzy and wispy and shod in 4 inch fuchsia heels. Cassy was in immediate shoe-lust, complaining that her plastic “glass slippers” were “stupid and dumb” and not as cool as Joyce’s shoes. Sherri’s eyes rolled and I hunkered down for a second front of struggling. Joyce squatted down to Cassy’s level, looked her in the eyes and declared, “Cassy, my shoes might be cool, but I’m just a diva. You are a Disney Princess. You are Cinderella. Besides which, I’ll bet I have my shoes off before tonight’s over and you’ll still be dancing in yours.” Cassy grinned and twirled away.
Driving home that night, I thought about what Joyce had said, and I wondered how often kids heard older people give them advice that they themselves never followed. I wondered if Cassy ever noticed that Joyce never did remove her spiked heels though she walked around and danced until the party ended.
The next school day, I shared the anecdote with my Public Speaking students and asked if they had examples from their lives of Joyce’s “Don’t do what I do, do what I say” advice to Cassy. A forest of hands went up immediately. I did not have enough time remaining in the class period for everyone to share their story. Every student in the class wanted to tell at least one instance of what Jeremy said his Dad called “The Adult Prerogative.” Listening to the kids share their stories while watching the nodding heads of those not yet speaking, I had a lesson epiphany.
When the class convened the next day, I introduced the new speech topic: “If you could have your parents obey one rule they make you obey, what would it be?” The kids applauded. Questions arose: “Do we have to limit it to one?” (Yes.) “Can it involve siblings?”  (Yes.)  “Can it be about a friend?” (Yes, if you are also involved.) “Is there a time limit on how long I can talk?” (Yes, 3 minutes.)  “May I have an extension? I’m really going to need longer than three minutes.” (Sorry, no.) Enthusiasm was rampant. For the first time all year, I had 100% of the required pre-speech outlines completed on time.
As the actual speeches began, I noticed an increased level of attention and a similar rise in politeness. I had to tell no one to put up other work or to quiet down. This was a subject they all wanted to talk about. There were no surprises. I heard what I had anticipated as the kids wanted parents to quit smoking, quit drinking, be on time, keep promises and do housework.
In the 16 years since those first speeches were delivered, a few have remained with me as memorable. Seth wanted his dad to have a “work night” bedtime that was the same as his school night one - 10 PM. His arguments were that his father was older, needed more sleep and had to get up even earlier in the mornings than he did. Sheryl thought that her mom should have computer privileges revoked every time she was late picking her up from practice just as hers were revoked whenever she was late getting chores done. (She argued picking her up was one of her mom’s chores.) Randell believed his dad should have to let him know when he was going to be late because, “I worry about him as much as he worries about me.” Chelly wanted to “preview” her mom’s dates just like she did to her. Larry considered it only fair that,”If I have to be nice to Mom’s new husband, then my Dad should have to be nice to him too.” Wendy argued that since she was not allowed to watch tv or talk on the phone until her homework was done that her mom who was going to college at night should have to follow the same rules. Felicia believed that her father’s rules about what constituted suitable clothing for her for school ought to apply to his new girlfriend’s attire for work. My favorite was Dan who thought that if he was not allowed to listen to music while driving because “it was distracting,” then his mom should not be allowed to listen to her talk radio station because, “she gets so mad that she just screams at the speakers and pounds the steering wheel.”
The speech never lost its fan base. Students looked forward to it – a truth I realized the last Fall I taught when Oscar declared during the first week of class, “Ms. Mayer, I can’t wait for the parents’ rules speech. My brother gave me a copy of his from 10 years ago and most of it is still true. My parents have not learned much since then.”
I wonder if back in the day, Oog turned to Moog and scolded, ”No, dearest, you cannot have a pteranodon as a pet,” while she petted her brachiosaurus.


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