The Last Casualty of the War of 1812
From time to time a newspaper article surfaces featuring the last casualty of World War I or World War II, who is usually a farmer in France or a construction worker in Germany blown up by an old land mine or an unexploded bomb. I do not think any unexploded bombs remain around Fort McHenry, nor were mines, torpedoes, or other infernal devices planted in Lake Champlain, around New Orleans, under Lundy's Lane, or along the River Raisin. Nonetheless, the War of 1812 and that modern devil, Power Point, have nearly killed me.
I consider it poor manners to complain about how hard one works--it is far more tasteful to present a carefree visage to the world, as if everything comes easily--but I am guilty, from time to time, of a little déclassé display of dismay, and now is nearly such a time.
I have the great privilege of teaching a section of War and American Society this term at Science Hill. I think I am the first person outside the two teachers who created the course many years ago to be able to do so, and when I took it from them (as they once split the course, one teaching early wars (also known as The Civil War and Some Other Stuff) and the other later ones) it was one of the things (even if it was neither the first nor the last) that made me want to become a teacher. Therefore, I want to do it justice. I have not the gift for clever activities that some of my colleagues have, although I am working on it, and am improving some. I do not typically use much technology either, having resisted much technology more advanced than chalk. I once had an overhead projector, and I lost it. Still, to make the most of this course, I decided to begin making Power Point slide shows to go with my lectures.
I dislike most PowerPoint slide shows. People tend to slap a bunch of text and bullets up there (and not interesting bullets like a Minie ball or one of those humongous bullets used by late 19th Century buffalo hunters) and then read it. My slide shows are just pictures with captions. I thought these would be easy to make. Instead, they at least double the time it takes to write a lecture (as I create the lectures and slide shows simultaneously).
I thought my lecture for the War of 1812 would be a simple one: Tippecanoe (and the Thames, too!), Lake Erie, Lundy's Lane, Horseshoe Bend, Burning of Washington, Fort McHenry, New Orleans, Johnny Horton, Treaty of Ghent.
I have discovered that the War of 1812 is not so simple. There are approximately one million small battles, spread all over creation, many of which are interesting (and I have discovered that I have long conflated the Battles of Lake Erie and Lake Champlain in my mind, and am glad to be corrected by further reading except that I am embarrassed when I think how many times I have told the story wrong) or significant in some way.
This has resulted in the longest single slide show and the longest lecture I have made for this class (although it will probably work out to be two days' worth of lecture and slides, so I suppose I could view it as having planned two lectures by accident). Still, I am nearly licked from this war, and rather tired from staying up past my bed time making a dozen others so far. I'll be glad when it's done, particularly if I get to teach this class again (as I really hope to do, although even at my best I know I cannot compare to Wild Bill Stanton in energy or enthusiasm, so he will always be--deservedly--the first choice to teach the course) and can re-use them, but it's rough going some nights.
Still, I hate to complain. I could be getting my head knocked in along the River Raisin or at Fort Mims or having my house burnt like poor Mr and Mrs Madison or still be teaching on the 8-9 campus.
I consider it poor manners to complain about how hard one works--it is far more tasteful to present a carefree visage to the world, as if everything comes easily--but I am guilty, from time to time, of a little déclassé display of dismay, and now is nearly such a time.
I have the great privilege of teaching a section of War and American Society this term at Science Hill. I think I am the first person outside the two teachers who created the course many years ago to be able to do so, and when I took it from them (as they once split the course, one teaching early wars (also known as The Civil War and Some Other Stuff) and the other later ones) it was one of the things (even if it was neither the first nor the last) that made me want to become a teacher. Therefore, I want to do it justice. I have not the gift for clever activities that some of my colleagues have, although I am working on it, and am improving some. I do not typically use much technology either, having resisted much technology more advanced than chalk. I once had an overhead projector, and I lost it. Still, to make the most of this course, I decided to begin making Power Point slide shows to go with my lectures.
I dislike most PowerPoint slide shows. People tend to slap a bunch of text and bullets up there (and not interesting bullets like a Minie ball or one of those humongous bullets used by late 19th Century buffalo hunters) and then read it. My slide shows are just pictures with captions. I thought these would be easy to make. Instead, they at least double the time it takes to write a lecture (as I create the lectures and slide shows simultaneously).
I thought my lecture for the War of 1812 would be a simple one: Tippecanoe (and the Thames, too!), Lake Erie, Lundy's Lane, Horseshoe Bend, Burning of Washington, Fort McHenry, New Orleans, Johnny Horton, Treaty of Ghent.
I have discovered that the War of 1812 is not so simple. There are approximately one million small battles, spread all over creation, many of which are interesting (and I have discovered that I have long conflated the Battles of Lake Erie and Lake Champlain in my mind, and am glad to be corrected by further reading except that I am embarrassed when I think how many times I have told the story wrong) or significant in some way.
This has resulted in the longest single slide show and the longest lecture I have made for this class (although it will probably work out to be two days' worth of lecture and slides, so I suppose I could view it as having planned two lectures by accident). Still, I am nearly licked from this war, and rather tired from staying up past my bed time making a dozen others so far. I'll be glad when it's done, particularly if I get to teach this class again (as I really hope to do, although even at my best I know I cannot compare to Wild Bill Stanton in energy or enthusiasm, so he will always be--deservedly--the first choice to teach the course) and can re-use them, but it's rough going some nights.
Still, I hate to complain. I could be getting my head knocked in along the River Raisin or at Fort Mims or having my house burnt like poor Mr and Mrs Madison or still be teaching on the 8-9 campus.