We created bucket lists in my grade five classes this week. Each student made a small paper booklet with three things he/she wanted to do before dying. Our target vocab for the lesson was "I want to..." which fit perfectly with the project.
Their desires ranged from mundane -- Before I die I want to go shopping -- to accidentally profound -- Before I die I don't want to die.
Quite a few kids wanted to be rich/win the lottery, and I also had a surprising number of wannabe zookeepers. I want to fall in love was another popular one, complete with little pink hearts and smiling stick figures -- both boys and girls.
My students' bucket lists highlights
I want to taste food from every country.
I want to meet (insert name of popular K-Pop boy band).
I want to be bitten by a shark.
I want to raise every kind of animal in the world.
I want to fly in a plane.
I want to eat plankton. (???)
I want to fly in a fighter jet.
I want to visit Canada.
I want to visit New York.
I want to meet Hillary Clinton.
I want to be president.
I want to go bungee jumping.
I want to go into a pothole. (Yes, I was used to translate this one.)
**
I was recently talking to someone about how we're taught to dream big as kids, but the minute we get out of high school/college, we're told how important it is to make money, settle into a career, create stability, forget our band, our art, our big ideas.
**
My co-teacher, 22, dainty and adorable, has a slew of male 6th grade admirers. From said devotees, she has received love notes, Ferrero Rocher chocolates, and phone accessories. (Actually, these were all from one particularly enthusiastic admirer who used to come by our classroom every afternoon, open the door, giggle, and run away. Ah, puberty.)
I, on the other hand, attract strangeness. Always. A few days ago, I was sitting at my desk, working on my computer. I looked up to see one of my students wearing a sweater fully zipped over his face (like the picture below except the face zips up to complete a monkey, not a skeleton). He stood by my desk and bobbed up and down, slowly waving his arms in the air.
I burst out laughing, and another student pointed at him "Monkey!" then she pointed at me "You beautiful! Monkey you love!"
So, to recap: SH's admirers bring her chocolate. Mine do faceless monkey dances.
Here is a poem that makes you realize you don't know ANYONE. Enjoy.
Their desires ranged from mundane -- Before I die I want to go shopping -- to accidentally profound -- Before I die I don't want to die.
Quite a few kids wanted to be rich/win the lottery, and I also had a surprising number of wannabe zookeepers. I want to fall in love was another popular one, complete with little pink hearts and smiling stick figures -- both boys and girls.
My students' bucket lists highlights
I want to taste food from every country.
I want to meet (insert name of popular K-Pop boy band).
I want to be bitten by a shark.
I want to raise every kind of animal in the world.
I want to fly in a plane.
I want to eat plankton. (???)
I want to fly in a fighter jet.
I want to visit Canada.
I want to visit New York.
I want to meet Hillary Clinton.
I want to be president.
I want to go bungee jumping.
I want to go into a pothole. (Yes, I was used to translate this one.)
**
I was recently talking to someone about how we're taught to dream big as kids, but the minute we get out of high school/college, we're told how important it is to make money, settle into a career, create stability, forget our band, our art, our big ideas.
**
My co-teacher, 22, dainty and adorable, has a slew of male 6th grade admirers. From said devotees, she has received love notes, Ferrero Rocher chocolates, and phone accessories. (Actually, these were all from one particularly enthusiastic admirer who used to come by our classroom every afternoon, open the door, giggle, and run away. Ah, puberty.)
I, on the other hand, attract strangeness. Always. A few days ago, I was sitting at my desk, working on my computer. I looked up to see one of my students wearing a sweater fully zipped over his face (like the picture below except the face zips up to complete a monkey, not a skeleton). He stood by my desk and bobbed up and down, slowly waving his arms in the air.
I burst out laughing, and another student pointed at him "Monkey!" then she pointed at me "You beautiful! Monkey you love!"
So, to recap: SH's admirers bring her chocolate. Mine do faceless monkey dances.
Here is a poem that makes you realize you don't know ANYONE. Enjoy.