Today we practiced reading for structure, which will help students structure their own writing pieces when we begin editing.
Our schedule:
1. Prior knowledge of annotation / talk to the text. Students gave definitions.
2. Annotation of the first paragraph of David Sedaris’ “You Can’t Kill the Rooster.” This is a humorous autobiographical piece. Since irony and humor are advanced reading topics, I thought this would make for a good challenge (and it did!). Sedaris writes about the initial wariness of his family towards southerners after their move from upstate New York. Sedaris uses his parents’ warnings to point out southern stereotypes: “backwards way[s] of life,” rumors of backyard stills, the prominence of Mountain Dew, and the eating of grits and hush puppies. We discussed the idea that these are overblown stereotypes, not truths, used to point out the extreme aversion of his parents to the south and to entertain the reader with a few laughs.
- First step of annotation: define terms or words you don’t understand
- Second step of annotation: outline the paragraph’s main idea (I., II.), supporting ideas (A., B.), and supporting details (1., 2.).
3. Students then practiced outlining a few paragraphs of reading from another memoir.
Absent students should read the first paragraphs of “You Can’t Kill the Rooster” below. Then define any terms or words you don’t know on a separate sheet of paper. Then outline the first paragraph using this format:
I. Main idea of the paragraph
A. First big supporting idea
1. Supporting detail 1
2. Supporting detail 2
etc.
B. Second big supporting idea
1. Supporting detail 1
2. Supporting detail 2
etc.
You Can’t Kill the Rooster, by David Sedaris:
When I was young, my father was transferred, and our family moved from western New York State to Raleigh, North Carolina. IBM had relocated a great many northerners, and, together, we made relentless fun of our new neighbors and their poky, backward way of life. Rumors circulated that locals ran stills out of their toolsheds and referred to their house cats as “good eatin’.” Our parents coached us never to use the titles ma’am or sir when speaking to a teacher or shopkeeper. Tobacco was acceptable in the form of a cigarette, but should any of us experiment with plug or snuff, we would be automatically disinherited. Mountain Dew was forbidden, and our speech was monitored for the slightest hint of a Raleigh accent. Use the word y’all and, before you knew it, you’d find yourself in a haystack French-kissing an underage goat. Along with grits and hush puppies, the abbreviated form of”you all” was a dangerous step on an insidious path leading straight to the doors of the Baptist church.
If you were in class there is no homework.
ALEXA GARVOILLE 