I may have done something terribly stupid.
I let my two senior classes vote on what play they’d like to read next. I made up a list of choices and figured I had them pegged — if I were a lazy teenager in high school, would I vote for Shakespeare or A Christmas Carol? Hm. I even tried to sort of sell Dickens to them: “What’s not funny about crippled British kids and ghosts?” They agreed. Or so I thought. And then every last one of the smarmy little freaks voted for Merchant of Venice.
Abused Jews: 1, Crippled British Kids, 0.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad I’ve got them hooked on the Bard. It’s just that I was sort of looking forward to a play with a tad less bleakness after MacBeth. Oh, and my other class? They voted in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie! I mean, what the hell.
I think the girls voted for Prime because it’s so many girl parts. But the boys must have been hoping to see girls in school girl uniforms. It’s the only explanation.
Back to grading papers before the drama starts…