I loved April Fools’ Day when I was a teacher. Every year I would choose one class. One very special class. My choice may have appeared arbitrary and capricious, seemingly based on nothing, but it wasn’t. I always knew which class to choose. The logistics sometimes changed from year to year, and some years 4/1 fell on a weekend. But on the years it didn’t, I managed to pull this off.
I would begin laying the groundwork a few days early. I would act sternly, stressing the importance of a lecture series or a writing assignment or a canon of literature. I would express mild (non-hurtful) disappointment in their academic performance, urging them to work harder, do better. I built up the prank slowly and steadily, never going overboard. By April 1st, the students would be off-balance and confused, muttering epithets under their breath.
What the hell does she want from us?
Is she ever happy?
You can’t please her, no matter what you do.
She’s insane. She should be committed.
Can we send Oves back to hell where she belongs?
I miss my students so much.
On April Fools’ Day I would be exceptionally “cranky” in class, and with fifteen minutes left in the class period, would abruptly instruct them to put their books away and take out a pen and notebook. I would turn out the lights, turn on the whiteboard and walk slowly around the room. Here was my speech:
It has become painfully obvious to me that nothing I have been saying to you guys in the past few days has made any difference. You seem to be content in making the least possible effort rather than stretching your intellectual horizons. I tried emailing parents (no, I didn’t, but you should have seen the heads whip around, as they wondered whose parents got contacted) and offering you time to come in after school, but no one took advantage. I give up. Maybe a 750-word annotated essay will do the trick. This is due at the end of the week. Get ready to take notes.
(No teacher in her right mind would assign an essay due the next day. Besides the fact that these kids have other lives and other classes, it’s just a douche-move. Anyway, they would have been on to me in five seconds. If April 1st fell on a Thursday or Friday, I would make it due Monday, thus “ruining” their weekend plans).
The outbursts began immediately.
This is BS!
I’m going on college visitations!
It’s my birthday weekend, are you serious?
What? I have play practice!
Why do those of us who actually work have to be punished because of the ones who don’t?
Mrs. Oves, wrestling (swimming, field hockey, baseball) districts are this weekend!
My WIFI is out, how do you suggest I do the research?
Ad nauseum.
I brushed aside all protestations with this:
You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not fair. Not everything in life is fair. But you have curriculum standards to meet, and if this class does not catch up to the other classes, you’ll be behind next year. I can’t live with that. Enough, now, I’m done listening to it. Let’s go through the slides.
The air was always thick with resentment, some students outrightly refusing to take notes.
I’m not doing it, I’ll just take the zero.
That’s fine, I would answer. Everything in life is a choice. I respect your decision, as long as you respect the consequences of what it will do to your grade, since the essay will count as a test.
Within five minutes everyone had given in to the inevitability of the assignment, and began disgruntledly taking notes. The Powerpoint was always impressive. I made sure to include ancillary resources and links to videos, and I would distribute a hefty handout to go with the presentation. I even made academic concessions, like letting them use a fun font, or not having to include headers and footers. That kept them off-balance, and off the scent.
Before the big reveal of the last slide, I would stop and congratulate them.
Thank you for your maturity. I know getting a last-minute assignment like this can have the tendency to throw a wrench in your plans, but the earlier you understand that life throws curve balls and doesn’t care one whit about your plans, you’re that much closer to adulthood. I only have one last slide for you today, and then you can get ready for dismissal:
APRIL FOOLS!
The celebration was always wonderful. I loved the comments.
I was gonna say…!
I think I would have taken the zero.
Are you trying to give us heart attacks?
Oh my God, I was going to hate you.
That almost ruined my life.
Ah, teenage drama.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my story yesterday. It was my brief dalliance into the romance genre- you think I could make it as a romance novelist? And it wasn’t all fiction. I did go into the store. I did a huge crush on James Gandolfini before he died. And I love Kevin James. The rest was made-up.
Enjoy this video of Anabel Sweeney singing the Celtic version of “Fields of Gold.” This is just my favorite video to watch for no reason, and my favorite cover of this song ever. Sorry, Sting. I can crush this song pretty effectively myself, but Anabel sets the bar high. Enjoy my contribution to your Easter celebration.