To be an English teacher means that everywhere I go, someone looks to me if a grammatical error has been made. Or if they think an error is made. As if I would correct it.
"Don't do that in front of the English teacher," said in the tone of horror you might use to say, "Don't take your pants off in the restaurant!"
Because I look at many things in terms of dog behavior, I see myself as a sassy and adventurous Jack Russel terrier (true--they are famed for their stubbornness and that's definitely one of my flaws). I see the more "serious" English teachers as chihuahuas (always ready to snap and make a big deal about a trifle).
(Of course I am generalizing about dog breeds here, which I try not to do, as each dog is an individual, but often breeds do share typical traits).
My life has been infinitely enriched by my subject, Language Arts. I truly think I would be dead, had it not been for the impact reading and writing have had on my life. Notice that I don't say I'd be dead if I didn't have this awesome command of grammatical structures.
But enriched because Language Arts is the stuff of which real life is made--dreams, hopes, love, birth and death, loss, wonderings. What it means to be human.
|Barney and Iggy. Iggy ready to obey a command. Barney ready to subvert the system.|