No Classroom “Rules”…


Here in NZ, our current Curriculum encourages allowing children to find their own way to explore their interest, to allow them the opportunity to use teacher feedback to plan their next goal (in all areas of the curriculum).

We’re encouraging “inquiring minds”, “thinking like a scientist”, “ownership of learning”…

So how great to read this teacher’s post at Edutopia.org on
“Why I Don’t Have Classroom Rules”

No Classroom rules
Click th’ Pic for the article

 

An extract from current W. I. P.


Bondzie stopped off at the coffee machine and poured himself a mug full of such a tarry looking near-black ooze I had to refuse his raised eyebrows as an offer. It looked like something surgeons would draw from a smoker’s lungs. Thank god for the water flask. I followed him into his office. He closed the door, almost on me, with a swift but near-silent, definite ‘click’ of the latch, and stepped behind his desk. I perched on the edge, until seconds later a timid knock was followed by a junior clerk wheeling in a chair.

As I sat down, Bondzie pulled his screen around at an angle. He motioned for me to shift my seat to where we could both see it. A keyboard password, a mouse click or two, and up came the media player.

Bondzie broke the silence.

“She’s up on the top floor. Bitter as hell. Didn’t go the way she’d expected.”

“What did she expect?”

“You’ll see. And, try not to freak out.” He clicked on Play.

Alone in the rain


FIAF #65 - Alone in the RainShe walks through the rain,
heading down to the river.
So tall is she the umbrella can’t stop
her long skirt soaking up
rainfall below her knees,
and soon it clings to her limbs uncomfortably.
We watch her go, as she often does so
when her mood gets her down.
But his body’s never there.

 


Written for F.I.A.F. in 2011, at Multiply


FIAF #77 - FabianPerez-NightPleasures-
Night Pleasures” art © Fabian PEREZ

Got my back against the bar,
cigarette smokes curling around
in grey and blue.

Been standing here for hours,
‘cause you made an offer I’d not be
able to refuse.

Whatever chance I had befor e, honey,
it ‘pears I’m the sucker who’s gonna lose.

I got them ol’ bar-leaning, rumpled suit, old man, whiskey-waiting blues.


Written for a Fiction In a Flash challenge at Multiply (R.I.P.) in 2012.

 

Black Warehouse


Years ago, this was a busy commercial warehouse.

One year’s flood damage took more than shops and homes – it took people:  in dirty swirling waters, or as refugees seeking a new start elsewhere.

Except Pop Haggerton.
The old fool’s still living in that damp garret up there, convinced that if waters subside, the town will regrow.


Originally posted at Multiply (R.I.P.) in 2012, for Word Fix at 56 challenge

A discarded rabbit


James, at eight, closely cuddled an old toy rabbit from when he was three.

This house was too large, too cold, too damp, too miserable.

Two years here and the family all felt the gloom of the dark, isolated gothic run-down ruin.

When they finally moved out, James happily dropped Bun-bun, and left him there.


Originally posted in response to a 56-word writing challenge (Word Fix at 56) , based on a photograph, in 2012