I’ve decided I need more joy in my English lit. classes. So today, rather than racing through the material, I gave myself enough time to read them poetry (Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Time does not bring relief” and Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy”), and have them listen to the first song of Hamilton. And I let them have time to write a Dickenson-ish poem (which they didn’t have to share with me or the class unless they felt like it). And there was much rejoicing.
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