I am sitting at the front of the classroom in a chair at the teacher’s podium. I tried to use a laptop but the technology was too much for me.
I notice some kind of speaker thing with a red light in front of me–who knows what that’s for? I wonder if it is actually a mic that is connected to the recording capabilities for this classroom. Of course the document camera is all up with all it’s arms poking out–that irritates me a lot–like a vicious octopus that keeps getting in my way when I want to see students.
I like the tray that holds the keyboard, but I really don’t like the keyboard much, it’s high and hard to push the keys. AND I keep doing it wrong, so I go back and edit as I’m writing. I always say to everyone in every class ever–don’t edit yourself while you’re writing and here I’m doing it because I don’t want to go back here to proofread later on. I have other stuff to do later on that is much more fun: like tackling How to Be An Explorer of the World explorations.
The chair I’m in is actually quite comfy; my eyes are in the right location to see the screen without strain; my feet are perched on the bottom shelf so my legs/knees are not uncomfortable. HOWEVER, the sound in the room is interesting and makes me jumpy… lots of keys getting tapped, pages turning, sighing, slight hesitations, then a barrage of keys… I like consistent sound or sound I know rather than sound I don’t. Perhaps this is why I pick a playlist for a semester and really stick to it for writing. I know what’s coming.
I love the clipboard that’s sitting in front of me: it’s got ink stains. It’s an old-fashioned brownish one made of wood pulp of some kind I think. Red and blue ink splashed about here and there in random swatches… sort of like someone went over the edge of paper rather than the ink bleeding through paper.
I can see all my students in my peripheral vision… Orange t-shirt on one, flowers on another, hat on another, sunglasses on one head, red glasses on another…tapping, tapping, tapping.
AHA. Like “The Raven” tapping, tapping at my door… can’t remember the words exactly, but it’s that sort of sound. Imagine if you could not see anything, it was all black and dark, with no light of any kind, and all you could hear was the tapping of computer keyboards, corrections, backspace, backspace, backspace, when tap tap tap 20 times in a row as the writers moved quickly into one part of the text. then pauses, when you could hear sighs or swallowing or sniffing or shifting bodies. Sometimes, there might be a very long pause. What would you think when the pause occurred, that the beings who’d been typing were coming to get you? What would you think about where you were? Would you say, “Hello, are you all a bunch of writers?” Or “Why are you typing when I’m in the dark like this? What sort of twisted joke is this?”
And the typing would just continue on as before, in fits and starts, with pauses and backspacing, with pages turning, with human breathing, with an occasional beep because someone had done something incorrect. Is this a scenario from a modern Dante’s Inferno? Or is this just a writing class creating blogs posts?
As I look around, because I’m not in the dark, I see so much gray and other muted colors: black, tan, green/tan. wood tones, pictures with black frames, some white, but lots and lots of cool tones–not much warmth. Why can’t one wall of a classroom be painted bright red or orange or sky blue? I would like every ceiling to be painted sky blue so that as we work indoors we might have the illusion of the sky above us.
And then someone sneezes really loudly… excuse me, bless you…
I am happy for the fine lumbar support.