"Everything dies, baby, that's a fact. But maybe everything that dies someday comes back. Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty, and meet me tonight in Atlantic City." ~bruce springsteen
I love that song. Counting Crows do a good cover of it. I may have to make this a Springsteen week. Although the week is almost over and I don't know when I'll update again, so maybe it'll be Springsteen time until I decide to move on. There are just so many good lyrics of his that I can use. I'll stick to the classics, though. Like Atlantic City. And because I try to talk about Bono as much as possible, I'll bring him in now. I haven't posted a Bono picture for a long time. So here he is with The Boss at U2's induction to the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame. Springsteen gave the speech to introduce the band, calling them "a band that wanted to lay claim to this world and the next one, too." Bono's hair was getting dangerously long at this point. U2 gives a lot of credit to Springsteen for influencing their music.
School has been going well. I've only been student teaching for 2 weeks, and I haven't done any actual teaching yet because this week is exam week and last week they were reviewing, but what I have experienced so far has solidified my desire to be a teacher. I love it. I love being around the students. I love hearing them say my name (they call me by my last name, of course). I love the way they look at me when they ask me a question; it's as if they're certain that I'll have an answer for them. I love how a few girls come into the classroom every day during lunch and eat with me and my cooperating teacher. I love how there are always students in the room, complaining or whining about grades, making up work, or just hanging out. I'm fully aware of the probability that my feelings towards the job will change slightly after I start teaching; I don't know that the kids will be as friendly to me after I start giving them assignments and grading them. I graded the essays they wrote on their exams, and most of them probably won't be too pleased with me when they receive their scores. I always used to think I would love grading papers, but I'm already sick of it. It's not a fun job. It's very difficult to be objective. I have gotten to read some pretty interesting things, though. It's a miracle that some of these kids have made it to 12th grade. They had to write essays on what they see as three important values evident in the English literature that they've read so far. Despite the teacher's explanation of what 'values' are, including examples such as honesty, courage, etc., some of them still don't get it. I've read essays on "values" ranging from "money" to "this is my deer, go hunt your own." Oy.