Most Embarrassing English Class Moments

Today I worked with one of the other English teachers, and he had me read a series of diary entries from a young Irish immigrant girl named Shannon Ryan. The students in the class are sophomores, so they struggled to understand the text when I read aloud.

The text began: "March 2, 1892. My name is Shannon Ryan, and I'll be sixteen next May..." It then continued on to say that her father had recently died and she was going to American on the HMS Shamrock, hoping to find work, but that she would be heartbroken to "kiss Ma goodbye."

The teacher then asked a series of questions about what the students understood in the text. Apparently, they had more difficulties than either the teacher or I had anticipated. Here are some of the more, ummm...entertaining...answers:

PROF: What will Shannon Ryan do before she leaves for America?
STUDENT A: She'll do Mardi Gras?
PROF: Mardi Gras? How did you get Mardi Gras? Sarah, will you read the passage again?
ME: "I dread having to kiss Ma goodbye."
PROF: Ma goodbye. Not Mardi Gras.

PROF: Where is Shannon Ryan when she leaves for America?
STUDENT B: At the airport!
PROF: It's 1892!

PROF: What's the name of the ship?
STUDENT C: The Titanic!
ME: It's 1892!!


But it's not only the students who embarrass themselves; it's also the teachers (*ahem, me*). Nothing has been as bad as Tuesday's nightmare class session. I was with the same teacher, and he was starting a unit on art throughout history. Now, I've always been bad at art -- always. I enrolled in an Art History class in college, hoping that I might improve, but if anything, I've become worse because I now have too many names and time periods to remember. But still, that does not excuse what I said on Tuesday.

First, the teacher showed an ancient South American sculpture, and I was able to quasi-identify it. Then he showed a picture of a Renaissance painting, and I was able to talk about it intelligently (it's the awe-inspiring command I have over the English language). Then he showed a picture of the Mona Lisa. Oh man, I thought, if these students don't know what this is, they're in trouble!

Pride goes before what again?

"And Sarah, who painted this picture?" The teacher asked me. An all too easy answer, but I couldn't believe the words that actually came out of my mouth: "Van Gogh." What did I just say?

"What did you just say?" The teacher asked me.

"Well, I said Van Gogh..." The students were starting to giggle.

"Wait," the professor said. "How do you pronounce it?"

"Van Gogh. How do you pronounce it?"

"Da Vinci." Oops.

The whole class was giving me this awkward look, like I'd just said with absolute confidence that I was afraid of falling off the face of the earth.

At the end of the lesson, the teacher recapped everything that the students had learned during the session. He put up the picture of the Mona Lisa, and asked his students, "Sarah said something wrong about this picture. What did she say?" (*insert long, exhaustive sigh here*)

The mocking didn't end there, but carried on after class and into the teachers' lounge. Even the teachers giggled, and I stopped defending myself. How can one defend a moment of total mental vacancy? Of course, I knew it was Leonardo da Vinci! I knew that. I've seen the darned thing! Oh well. Life goes on.

At least I didn't say it was Leonardo DiCaprio.