Sixteen years ago today, as a senior in high school, I sat in English class working on a random assignment when the teacher’s cell phone went off. It was such an unusual thing to happen; cellphones did not go off during class. She took the call and we heard words like “plane” and “trade center.”
One concrete example of being competent and in charge of an English class group assignment happened during 11th grade.
I was in the regular version of this English class, not AP. I remember receiving a bit of flack about that from the teacher, who was fully convinced I was taking the easy way out by not going for his AP class.
Anyway, we had a group project where we had to create a persona, create the background of a character: who this person is, what they are doing. And then somehow we needed to tie in some type of literary piece. This was an English class, after all, so it wasn’t merely about writing a paper; it required some creativity.
I know our group settled on a female student who was studying different key events in history or was at least interested in history. We decided to create a journal for her where she reacted to various moments in history. Somehow we created journal entries and then also established that she wrote poetry. Yes, I’m sure the poetry aspect was all me, but I was happy to volunteer to make that writing my responsibility.