How to Take Teachers At Their Word, or How WALC Saved My Ass

Enabling quote of the day: "About your final projects: You don't need to explain them. They don't even need to make sense or mean anything."

This works out well for my final project. In fact, this comment is said specifically in reference TO my final project. I feel just so special.



Part A: Outwardly, I pontificate on my utterly obsessive love for the coolness that is Tannic Acid... and Redwood Trees in general ... while inwardly offering thanks to my equal obsession with using pastels as note-taking devices as well as Mr. G, Mr. B, and Ms. T for their love of all things Hendy Woods.

Having received essentially a visual biology-lesson-as-healing lecture, the circle of students stares at me. Even the teacher-child cocks his head like a confused dog. So sighing, onward I plod.



Part B: Reveal... a quilt. Tie it to the Gee Bend exhibit at the MOAD/De Young and a woman's voice saying, "After he died, [my mom] quilted his overalls all together, wanting him to keep her warm through the winter, covered in his love."



More tilting of heads. Time to bring out the big guns of Part C:
Read student writing and poems. It always makes 'em cry. And crying people? No longer critical thinkers. Good stuff. And doubly fortunate for me, since I couldn't create a connection if I tried, these 30 criers ultimately turn out to be great at forging healing art and healing connections between redwood trees and quilted sheets, and poetry honoring people, places, concepts and things.

And so they all nod at last. Sigh a collective sigh. And we are off to the next project. And I am free. Don't understand it? Me neither, but please re-read quote of the day.