Mar 13, 2008 10:14
Publishing co., again. They all enjoyed their Sunday brunch at the Grewcock. They also liked the show.
This morning I'm trying to brainstorm alternate lesson titles for the upcoming third-grade textbook. The task is to turn something like "What is a State" into "Kimbazzle wang bow whatisastate hoop-de-doo!"
Or something like that.
My boss passed and asked what I'd come up with, which hadn't been much, and he'd looked it over, laugh-sighed, and said, "Well, it's tough, isn't it? We may end up throwing most of it out..." And he walked away.
I realized this morning that when he refers to "the people working on these textbooks" who "don't know anything about third-graders," he's also referring to me. I haven't been in a classroom like that in eons, and I've never officially taught kids that age. I'm a stranger in a strange land here, alienated from work and the people I'm working for. It's enough to make you Marx.
--
Reist asked in class the other day: "Would you keep doing whatever it is you're doing--for nothing? And if not, why are you doing it?"
Publishing co., again. I can answer the first question, but not the second.