Confessions

Confession #1: I am not writing this after my second cup of coffee. I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee. So, as a self-proclaimed caffeine addict I confess that what follows may not be the result of coffee brilliance, but rather first mumbles of the morning with a modest cup of ginger tea.

Confession #2: I am an English teacher. And, I am a horrible speller. I just wanted to get that out of the way. Many people assume that great spelling comes with the territory. They are wrong. I grew up on the era of spell check. Most of what I composed after the 6^th grade was on a word processor, and during that significant year in many people’s lives (lets say 1992) when computers graced the homes of middle class families, I soon learned about my spelling deficiency with the overwhelming appearance of red squiggly lines. Microsoft Word, in its infancy, brought this to my attention, in a moment of quite embarrassment, those awkward moments that occur all too often for adolescents. Soon afterword, I decided to not let anyone know about this deficiency, and the brilliance of spell check is that my cover-up actually worked! For nearly 20 years I haven’t let a red squiggly line appear on my screen for more than a few seconds. And, if that isn’t enough, I avidly edit so my readers will not catch onto my secret.

I’ve recently decided, however, that I’ve carried around this dirty little secret for far too long and that it’s time to come clean, mostly for the sake of my students. This is partly, I’ll admit, because as a teacher I’m far too exposed. I write on the chalk-board on a daily basis, often taking notes based on classroom discussion. Unplanned, un-word-processor-spell-checked words come flying at me and I’m expected to spell all these words correctly (and write nicely too)—it’s too much! I can’t handle the pressure! So, I’ve leaked my secret to a few classes, always hoping I don’t loose my stereotypical librarian looking English teacher respect. Yet, as a result of my confession, I’ve realized that by exposing my spelling weakness, they are able to accept themselves a bit more easily (and befriend me in the process). You see, these 18-year-old technology-saturated students are often terrified of the English language—its rules, conventions, when to put a comma where, when to use whom rather than who and vise versa. They assume I, on their other hand, their librarian looking English teacher, hold all of this knowledge over their heads with an oppressive force as if I know everything and they know nothing. So my confession, you see, is transcendent in the way that the great pedagogical philosopher, Paulo Freire, intended. It’s a win-win. I’m creating a post-structuralist, student-centered classroom, and at the same time as I’m coming clean with myself! So, today, I extend my secret to the second cup of coffee readership and say it with confidence—I am an English teacher, and I am a horrible speller!

Confession #3: I considered NOT spell-checking this blog entry to illustrate just how horrible my spelling really is. I confess, however, that I am not that brave yet. Give me time.

Yours,

Jamie