PLN 19

As I scrolled through the learning network blogs on my school's website, I decided to explore a bit and try a new blog. As you have probably figured out, I have a tendency to be a little monotonous. I looked at one teacher's blog (her name is Cheryl, but it somehow feels wrong to call a teacher by their first name) and was a little shocked at what I read. On her blog, Cheryl posted about one article called “Awaiting—still—a renaissance of wonder,” . I suggest you read it for yourself on her blog: "Even in heaven they don't sing all the time" . What I read really affected me, and so I decide to add a little input of my own:

After reading what you had to say about Michael Mazenko’s post, I decided to check it out for myself. I have to say, what I read was a little upsetting. As a student, I know how hard it is to show passion in everything we do (like Mr. Mazenko seems to expect). Often times, we have other things on our minds, or the subject we are discussing hits a little too close to home for us. Silence does not mean a lack of passion, merely a lack of words to express it. We go though the monotonous and laborious schedule of school everyday. Most of us cannot express the love of knowledge that teachers like Mazenko want from us. We’re teenagers. We can’t even find the right words to ask a person out on a date, let alone go into a deep conversation Ferlinghetti’s poem right after school has started. Some times, we just don’t have the energy to be deep thinkers and functional speakers.

It was quiet discouraging to read what Mazenko thinks of teenagers. As you stated, “Just because teenagers don’t behave like kindergartners doesn’t mean that school has “killed” something in them.” We are interested; we just have difficulties saying so. Our “mundane” questions are often an escape from the realities of the world that we face every day. Sometimes, we need something simple in our lives. Your son is 16, and has already faced many hardships. Most of us have. Poems can bring up the oddest, and most painful memories for us. Simple phrases can make us worry. We give simple answers because thinking too hard about it might be too painful.
Perhaps I am just repeating everything you have already talked about, but to hear that a teacher has lost hope I his students saddens me. Do we always wonder aloud? No. However, it doesn’t mean we aren’t still wondering. We’re teenagers, we’re always questioning everything. We can’t always see the beauty in the world because we are starting to see the harsher side of it. You’re right; we know the joys of life, but we still see the dark side of it. Simple answers don’t mean simple minds. They mean that we are trying to make something in our lives just a little easier. At least for the class period.