Wes Craven’s Got Nothing on Me

High fives for everyone! No, not high fives. Butt shaking, fist pumping happy dances!

Today, these arrived:



Yes, I’m taking the more interesting turn at the fork of “rational” and “completely delusional,” but guys, grammar books!  French ones!

It’s like a high school student’s worst nightmare showed up at my door, and I not only invited it in, I asked if it wanted to be BFFs – and it said yes.

Because these books? Yeah, they’re mine. I bought them.

They’re going to get a place of honour on my bookshelf. I should set up a shrine to them, actually, complete with offerings of coffee, croissants, and poutine. Reminders of home to welcome them into mine.

These things are that important.

I won’t try to explain why. It might get political, and I don’t want to think about why I needed to buy these books. I just want to make sure you’re all aware of one very important fact: with these spiral bound worksheets of awesome in hand, I’m don’t have to wonder anymore. Now, I know.

It’s not Freddy Krueger that my students see when they fall asleep. It’s not him they fear.

It’s me.

Mme. MacKenzie, verb practice sheets in hand, has become her students’ worst nightmare.

That is, until they realize that they actually know how to read French.

To understand it.

To speak it.

To use it for their own goals.

Until they realize that they aren’t afraid of it – of me – anymore.

But, like Freddy, I’ll come back. Again and again. With class after class sharing the same nightmare.

Thanks, photocopying rights You get a rump shaking fist bump. And a high five, too.

One thought on “Wes Craven’s Got Nothing on Me

  1. Lauren

    As a graduate of a French Studies degree, and with absolutely zero claims to being a teacher, I am envious of you and lust after your books.

    Does that make me a nerd? Yes, and I am unashamed.