You know I love my students. I love teaching writing to my students.
So, you have to know that this person was never one of my students…
…else, she’d know how to spell her curse words correctly.
This reminds me of a message I received from a student almost two years ago who was not satisfied with a grade, and proceeded to call me a ‘birch’ in the message. I don’t know if the student realized what she did, but my dean thought it was interesting.
Speaking of ‘birches’, I am reminded of a class I took long ago, in the early 1980s, at Mississippi State University. It was an advanced English composition class of 12 students, hand-picked for this particular professor. I loved this class. We had an assignment one week to take a piece of classical writing or poetry, and reinterpret it however we liked. The sky was the limit.
I picked Robert Frost’s poem, “Birches.”
I reinterpreted the poem, and retitled it, “Bitches.”
I received an A and a very humorous note back from the professor. He told me he’d never be able to read Robert Frost in the same way again.
I wish I could find it. If I do, I’ll share it.