Shakespearean insults - Snapshots from today

I am currently preparing for a literary history theme in my English 6 course, and, naturally, William Shakespeare will pop his nose in to say "hello"! So, while looking for some good sources I bumped into this page collecting Shakespearean insults. Some great insults to be found here - lol-funny indeed! This gave me an idea so now I am prepping for a lesson on just Shakespearean insults!

Link to site

Skolvärlden writes about our Skypeathon

Click on the screen shot below to access the article. 

Student poem - inspired by the art of Alice Pasquini

Icarus 

The city was alive. My eyes burned as I watched the bright neon lights lovingly mingle with the dark clouds. Intimacy. It’s been a long time. I inhaled, and the city exhaled, we’re one and the same. In sync. I am the bird and sky above, the buildings my nest and roots below. 

I was alone, strictly speaking, but I wasn’t lonely, there were others before but they left; plucked by the invisible hand. They were not clever enough; I am. I will not be culled, I will fly. I am a mind and the city is my body. My thoughts resonate with the city, and as the fire flows in my veins, so do the blurred streaks of light throughout the streets, and the growing, blaring sounds of traffic were but a soft murmur, a lullaby. 

It is time. Wings spread, aflame. The people will look up to the charred sky and finally see the stage concealed by this curtain of blue. This is my inferno, my final act of defiance. To set the world ablaze is to end myself, but I am prepared. 

I can feel time becoming physical, it bends, breaks, and loops back on itself. This is where I stay, in a fall where I miss the ground. The wind whistles past my ears and smears the world around me, the city is running paint on a canvas. However, I am no longer part of this composition. I am not the subject, I am not the paint, and I am not the artist. I am the madman and his flame; burning this masterpiece. 

The invisible hand is helpless, a lost child sobbing for its mother, but these cries of an orphan are wasted; resounding across the cold concrete, a mute echo. The hand cries wolf, and nothing cries back. 

I’ve crossed the line, the event horizon, I can no longer escape and neither can the city. What was once a lullaby is now a cacophonic elegy. The smoldering remains of the hand laments and so does the city, but one mourns the revolution and one mourns the martyr. 

The flame has died, and only now may the ashes settle.

Poem by student in English 5

A quick summary of our Skype sessions and our Skypeathon

The map of documented Skype calls currently looks like this:

Documented calls from our Skypeathon - March 16-17 2017:

Call #1:
The first connection turned out to be Sara Gunneriusson, an English/Biology teacher at Bäckängsgymnasiet - due to the snow storm that hit the eastern coast of the USA - our original call was canceled and the next best thing was our own shining star Mrs Sara. With lots of vivacity she engaged the students and set a great standard for the calls to come.

Sara Gunneriusson and students - call #1

Call #2:

Marine geophysicist Dr. Kelly Hogan at the British Antarctic Survey in Cambridge, UK, was our second call and she quickly gave us a lot of information about her research and the state of the polar ice and glaciers.

Kelly Hogan, call #2

Call #3:
Our third call went to Melanie LeJeune and her students at St. Louis Catholic High School in Lake Charles, Louisiana. My students were very happy to talk to students their own age and they got many informative answers to their questions. We hope to do something more with these students in the future.

A photo from the Louisiana side of things....

The students at St. Louis Catholic High School in Louisiana on the screen in the background, call #3

Call #4:
Jennifer Nolan greeted us from a wintery Maine and we were quickly drawn into her enthusiastic way of stressing the importance of the oceans and sea animals. Great call.

Jennifer Nolan, call #4

Call #5:
After a few trial calls with technological mishaps, we were happy to see everything working like clockwork when connecting with Dee Stonis and her students at Michelle Obama School of Technology and the Arts in Park Forest, Illinois.

Dee Stonis and students, call #5

Call #6: 
Nathan Doerr, at Wyoming State Museum, welcomed us in an entertaining and educational Mystery Skype manner which we took to heart.

Nathan Doerr, call #6

Call #7: 
Next thing on the list was to visit Dan Horton and his students at Broadway High School in Harrisonburg, Virginia.

Students in Virginia, call #7

Call #8:
At 5 pm it was time to focus even further west and we connected easily with Vicky Trevino and students at Colegio San Patricio in Monterrey, Mexico. It just happened to be a Twin Day for them (during Spirit Week) so some students were dressed up in similar outfits. They sang their national anthem and persuaded us to do the same. 

Call #9: 
Chrissy Gregg was nice to escort us around the World War II Museum in New Orleans, Louisiana. She showed us planes and war memorabilia while being very hospitable during this Q&A/Virtual Field Trip-session. Thank you! :) 

Call #10:
Next up was a Mystery Skype and the students quickly understood that we were dealing with the USA again. Questions back and forth until we had pinpointed them at North Plainfield High School, North Plainfield, New Jersey. Kelli Beard was teacher in charge on the American side.

New Jersey students on the screen, call #10

Call #11:
My American colleague and fellow teacher Rick Bleemel was helping us out and let us touch down with him north of Dallas in Texas. He revealed that he is cheering for Notre Dame in College basketball and (I think) they actually beat their opponents in the latest game. Yay! One student asked what his favorite historical era is (he is a History/Geography teacher) and I believe he said "the American Revolution."


Call #12: 
We turned a little east for the next call with friend Kelly Fykes and students in Vero Beach, Florida. We played a Mystery Skype version and it took a little time to find them on the east coast of FL. Great questioners and answerers. Always a pleasure Kelly! :)

Students from NA16F were in charge of this call, call #12.

Call #13:
I had arranged a session with Debra Erdmann and her students and today Veralice Estrada helped out in actually going through with the activity. We could find the students at Oxnard High School about one hour's drive north of Los Angeles. Excellent questions were asked on both parts, with special focus on political systems, and it sure was fun to be able to get an insight into the differences between the schools.

A look into a classroom at Oxnard High School in Oxnard, California.

Call #14: 
You could tell that Yellowstone ranger Greg Malloure was used to educational and informational sessions with students telling us about the importance of the national parks and Yellowstone in particular. The students learned that Wyoming is the least populated state in the US with around 600,000 inhabitants.

Call #15:
Our first (and only this time) visit with Canada came true through Dean Vendramin, teacher at O'Neill Catholic High School in Regina, Saskatchewan. I sent over a few questions from my students to his last week and earlier this week we received answers in a flip grid. Next week I will make sure my students answers with flip grids of their own. Thank you helping us out, Dean!

In between sessions this happened:

Call #16:
Is a canceled call still is a call? Well, if it is then we connected with Hampton High School in Hampton, Nevada. But, we really didn't, because our call wasn't picked up. :(

Call #17:
Kerri Thompson is wonderfully creative teacher that I come back to now and then since she is so committed in using digital tools. Her colleagues Alastair and Debbie joined in while we played Mystery Skype/Q&A with students at Tamatea Intermediate School in Napier, New Zealand. Love their uniforms and manners!

Students at Tamatea Intermediate, Napier, NZ. Call #17

Call #18:
Brian Johnson is also a teacher that I have come back to, because we share a common interest in digital tools and collaborations. He graciously answered my students' questions and gave us book tips (he's also a librarian). Brian lives in Arkansas, USA.

Brian Johnson, call #18

Call #19:
As March 16 turned into March 17 we connected with Richard McLaren and his students at Shirley Boys' High School in Christchurch in New Zealand.

Call #20:
Juneau and Alaskan resident Sam Jordan answered many questions about life in that part of the USA. We saw a snow-covered landscape behind him and learned that he moved to Alaska a few years back, from New England. This summer Sam and his family will tour Scandinavia and visit Sweden for a few days. Therefore, he asked what kind of food dish he should eat while here and the answer was a quick "meatballs!". What to avoid? Fermented herring.

Sam Jordan in Juneau, Alaska. Call #20.

Call #21:
Call #21 was another call that never really became a call. This time confusion about the time and other school activities hindered us from connecting. Melbourne, Australia would have been the destination but this time it was a no go. Unfortunately.

Some singing occurred when a call didn't go through:

Call #22: 
At 2 am we called up Daniel Parsons in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii for a tour of the battleship USS Missouri (aka Big Mo), involved in the attacks on Iwo Jima and Okinawa among other things. The virtual field trip was very professional and we could tell that they had lots of experience in conducting educational field trips.

Call #23:
My old-time friend Désirée Harton Gold agreed to help us out with a vacant slot in the middle of the night. It was 9 pm in St. Paul, Minnesota, where she lives, as we connected and got talking about her life as a pastor, American values and the political climate. We have been friends for about twenty years but it was fifteen years since I heard her voice and got to see her "live" again. So thankful for this opportunity Désirée!

Call #24: 
St. Mary's International School in Tokyo, Japan was next. But somehow there must have been confusion about the time because they thought we would call an hour earlier than what we had planned for. So, this time no Japanese connection but we hope for a rain check.

Call #25:
3 x Olympian aerial flyer Emily Cook called us up at 4 am and despite being utterly tired my students managed to ask her interesting questions about her life. Emily was in high spirits and we felt so lucky to be able to meet her like this. Emily told us about how to persevere and not give up even when the going gets tough as an athlete.

Call #26: 
Malaysia was our next Mystery Skype and we connected with Kidurong High School in Borneo, Malaysia. Maggie Muuk was in charge of the call. Unfortunately we experienced some technical difficulties and had to call back many many times after the connection broke down. Still, we felt lucky to have added Asia and Malaysia on our virtual world trip. Thank you!

Call #27: 
The Mitahato Education Development Fund was in charge of this call where we got to learn more about Kenyan Food Culture and recipes. Kiambu, Kenya was the place we connected with and they were two hours ahead of us. Corn flour is a staple in Kenya and we compared that to the wheat flour status here in Sweden.

Call #28:
New Delhi, India was the next place and this call became short and I have to say that we had some problems understanding each other and energy was really lacking at this point in time. Still, my students managed to pull through - great effort!

Call #29:
Early Friday morning we turned our attention towards our own country, Sweden. A Mystery Skype was on the agenda and it sure was fun to see how the Swedish students reacted when they found at that they were both in Sweden. Borlänge was the town, Hagagymnasiet the school and Annika Karlin the teacher in charge. Great fun!

Students at Hagagymnasiet in Borlänge, Sweden. Call #29.

Call #30: 
Our next call, scheduled at 9.30 am, was with the Swedish minister for Upper Secondary School and Adult Education and Training (such a short title!) Anna Ekström. Some students felt an added nervousness in talking to a member of the government but the questions they asked were well thought through and the minister gave them good and comprehensible answers. An added bonus was that the minister's political advisor was Marcus Strinäs, a former alumni of Bäckängsgymnasiet.

Call #31
Anders Jacobsson, writer of many very popular Swedish tween books connected with us at 10 am on Friday morning. The students in SA16M had been fortunate to get to read his new unpublished manuscript and this was an opportunity for them to connect and give him some feedback on that script before it gets published.

Anders Jacobsson talks to the students, call #31.

Call #32:
As some of my students are prospective writers and journalists I thought it would be a good idea for them to speak to a well-known journalist. As luck would have it, I was happy to get hold of Håkan Steen, free-lance journalist/music editor at Aftonbladet and at 10.30 am we reached him for a 20-minute interview. He was a wonderful interviewee as he explained his career path and music interest to the students. His favorite artist? David Bowie. Best concert? Probably Håkan Hellström.

Swedish music editor and journalist Håkan Steen.

Call #33:
Tobias Rosvall, digital manager at Bonnier Broadcasting, works with sports in Stockholm. He got the students to talk about what his job entitles and he Skyped with us from C more's tv-studio.

Call #34: 
The final call of the Skypeathon was to Brighton College in Brighton, UK. Richard Grice talked about his previous experience of working with nuclear weapons and how he changed his career into teaching physics. A great way to end our 24-hour Skypeathon.

Our scheduled calls for Skypeathon - student version

Here is the student version of our scheduled calls. Mystery Skypes marked as "question marks."

MARCH 16: 

MARCH 17: 

Student poem - inspired by Banksy

Banksy's work "Ballerina" was the inspiration for this poem by a female student:

Student version of organization of Skypeathon

Link to student version of the organization of Skypeathon

Student short story about love and overthinking - inspired by the art of Alice Pasquini

A short story about love and overthinking things, inspired by the art of Alice Pasquini, written by a student of mine. 

Love and Overthinking: A Short Story

Photo credit: http://www.isupportstreetart.com/we-all-swim-in-the-same-waters-by-alice/

Jack is your typical teenage boy, bearing long, blonde hair, and blue eyes. His most distinguishing feature is his height, reaching up to about an incredible 7 feet tall, making him an oak among sticks. 

Even though he is a whole lot taller than other boys, or even men, he is still just like everyone else inside, an apple of the apple tree.

Because of his height, he has always been pushed to play sports like basketball, or other activities where he can utilize his amazing height, although he hates playing sports.

Jack has always been lazy, but for a reason. He is far too skinny to hold up his height healthily, which means he gets tired a lot easier than other kids his age, which means height is not his only black duckling feature.

Something he does like, however, is something we all do, but do not see as an actual favorite hobby. Thinking.

He loves to think deep thoughts, questioning this and that, wondering why and how…

Because of these factors, he does not have many friends, as most boys don’t prefer the same cup of tea. Therefore he sees himself as his own best friend, and prefers to keep away from the bunch.

Even though he prefers to be alone, there is one person who catches his eyes, who makes him prefer not to be alone for once.

Her name is Mary.

Mary is just like Jack. She is tall. She is lazy. She prefers to be alone and does not have many friends.

She is also beautiful. She has short, brown hair, and big, brown eyes which you can get lost in for hours.

Jack snaps out of it. ”I don’t like her”, he tries to convince himself. ”I don’t like her”, ”I don’t like her”, ”I don’t like her”, ”I like her”, ”I love her”.

Butterflies start flying around in his stomach, tickling him up to his chest. He doesn’t want to have feelings for her, as he is certain she would never feel the same way.

”I’m not enough”, he thinks to himself.

He asks to go to the toilet, and when given permission, he gets out of the classroom, and goes outside to get some fresh air, to cool down his overthinking mind.

She’s there, outside, sitting on the bench.

He has no choice but to sit next to her, so he does so. He has to let her know what’s on his mind, or else he will always be swimming in a sea full of grief.

Jack decides to leave that sea, and fish in other troubled waters.

He turns to her, and sees that she’s already looking at him. His heart immediately started beating faster when he saw her big, brown, beautiful eyes, staring right into his.

Mary then breaks eye contact and looks down like the shy girl she is, and Jack could do  nothing but admire how cute she actually was. It was like sweets for his eyes.

But then, he started to wonder. Why did Mary look at him in the first place? Why was her expression so adorable? And why did she look away out of shyness?

”You have a cute thinking face”, Mary says out of nowhere, with a smile on her face.

Jack didn’t know what to answer. He was simply too astonished, and was fighting the butterflies in hopes of stopping himself from getting too worked up. Jack isn’t the best at keeping his calm, to say the least.

”Don’t worry”, Mary adds, ”I’m just like you, I get it”.

She turns her body towards Jack, and lets off a gorgeous giggle. Jack immediately falls in love with it, and smiles.

”You’re thinking face isn’t your only cute expression, is it?”, she says with a gentle voice. It was more of a statement than a question.

Jack can do nothing but to try and keep calm, as the feelings are too much for him. He refuses to ruin this chance to get everything off his mind.

But is it really the best time? What happens if it ruins the relation between the two? And what if these are all false signs?

Jack clenches his teeth and fists, realizing he is too weak to stop overthinking.

His favorite hobby is his biggest weakness, his biggest flaw. Every upside has its downsides.

Is it worth it? Does she really show true signs? Will she hurt me? Will I hurt myself?

Jack snaps out of it once again, this time feeling uneasy and nauseous.

He grabs a hold of his blonde, long hair, trying to calm himself down. Mary is still turned towards him, but now with a confused and worried look on her face. She looks as if she wants to ask him what’s wrong, but doesn’t want to go fishing in troubled waters.

Jack can’t contain himself anymore. He has to leave.

”I’m sorry”, he forces out of himself, and gets up, walking away fast, getting as far away as possible from the beehive. He couldn’t do it, and now has even more to think about, making him feel worse and worse, like more and more salt on the wound.

Mary watches him walk away, until he is no longer visible, and then dries her cloudy eyes. She has no idea what she did wrong. Did she say something wrong? Was she not pretty enough? Or was she simply not good enough?

Mary realizes she’s overthinking, not knowing Jack was doing the exact same thing.

All she can think about is his beautiful smile, even though she doesn’t want to.

”I don’t like him”, she tries to convince himself. ”I don’t like him”, ”I don’t like him”, ”I don’t like him”, ”I like him”, ”I love him”.

Thinking can be good, it can change your mind for the better, it can do a lot for you. But it also has its downsides, as thinking can also hurt you. You might think you’re not enough, while you’re someone else’s world. Some people think more than others, but those who think the most are the ones who are affected by it the most.

Therefore, even if overthinking can be a bad habit, one should never let their own brain be their own undoing. In other words, don’t pull the trigger to your own death trap.

We all swim in the same waters, but that doesn’t mean we should drown in our own thoughts.

Student poem - inspired by the street art of Banksy

Here another student, wanting to be anonymous, presents her poem inspired by Banksy's art. 

Photo credit: Getty Images

A Heavy Heart 

Her body was overflowing with happiness

With a heart as light as a feather

Sparkling eyes shining brighter than all the stars combined in one

The sun threw its heat to the surface of the earth forcing the spring to bloom

The laughter and singing of playing children outvoted the buzzing of the city

Children just like her

Glowing smiles 

Free of worry

Dreaming of their future lives 

Pretending to be doctors, musicians and teachers

Waking up to the real world 

Dreams of a future she was never able to grasp, slipping out of her hands

Aching limbs and muscles

Her world instantly turned upside down

Love replaced with hate

Laughter overturned by screaming cries of sorrow

The howling wind echoing over empty streets 

Filling people’s hearts with colorless dust

Forcing out every good feeling that could possibly be left

The sounds of screams and murmuring streams of blood replacing the music of laughter

The world, a cruel place

Snatching the happiness of an innocent child in the blink of an eye

The bitter blast of a bomb buried her hope at once 

Erased the smiles on people’s faces

Opened up the doors for disaster and suffering 

Why would this little girl, out of every person on the planet, experience this hate

This lack of love and liberty

The taste of hate in the air makes the girl on the dusty streets shiver

The absence of peace is making itself reminded

When demons haunt their minds and bodies

When blood spills and tears fall

The life in the war zone is difficult 

Will it ever change? Will the life of the little girl ever go back to how it was before?

Before she was stained with blood

Before the tears were crawling down her cheeks, making marks in the dirt

Before the streets were drowning in dust and again dust

She closed her eyes, slumbering into a sleep that she hoped would last forever

Snapshots from today - Skype session with Flower Mound, Texas, USA

Today we were fortunate enough to be able to join Melissa Rhoades and her students at Lamar Middle School in Flower Mound, Texas, on their Skypeathon. We found out that our call was their 16th Skype session for the day and that they were awfully tired, the time also being 5.30 am in Texas. We learned a few new things about Texas (top picture), among other things, that the state animal is the armadillo. Thanks Melissa and students!

Student poem - Creative writing inspired by Alice Pasquini

Here student Aphinya Kam-Asa presents her poem, inspired by Alice Pasquini's "Deep Tides Dry."

The Abyss 

Falling into the cold dark abyss, into the emptiness of his heart

The stars that were close to me were now too far apart

The things he told me were merely figure of speech

He gave me the half of his heart but yet it was far from my reach

Now I’m waiting for the darkness to devour my soul, waiting for the memories to swallow me whole

The moments I spent up there are not to be told

Secrets are kept and kept until old 

I will not forget what once was the truth

and the stars will sing for him and forever preserve his youth

He was the stars, the dust, the moon, the light

He blew me away into the darkness of the night

Now he shines brighter than the sun

Those who can reach him are; none

I waited for him, I opened up my heart

and the moment I saw him; I knew that he had me from the start

He played me like a cello, with every stroke I sing

He played me until I broke but still I call him my king

Words can not describe him, he was the wings on my back

Now he has left me and my wings have cracked

I’m now falling, falling and infinitely falling into the black

Student poem - creative writing inspired by artist Alice Pasquini

Poem inspired by Alice Pasquini's art, see below:

Flickering lights 

The first warm tear left her eye and found its way down her red cheek.
Slowly, like a snake finding its way through a landscape, 

leaving a trace of black like a tail. 

Soon the lonely teardrop got company 

and the tears began to stream down her face in black lanes. 

She tried to wipe away the teardrops with her hand 

and felt her dry skin scratch against her cheek. 

When her fist was soaked and started to ache like salt in an open wound,
she gave into the waves of sadness rolling over her. 

She tried to breathe normally, 

but every time a wave crashed, 

it felt like someone put a hundred stones on her chest, 

making it hard to breathe. 

A cold hand of panic grabbed her heart, 

it felt like she didn’t get enough air, 

causing her pulse to race and beat like a sledgehammer. 

Her attempts to calm down by counting to ten felt worthless, 

the only achievement was not losing control over her whole body. 

She still had a part of her mind 

and she used it to dream away. 

Letting her thoughts drift away in the right direction to calm her mind, 
picturing her family, 

best friend, 

the cute guy in school, 

school, 

exam, 

failure. 

No, wrong direction. 

Her thoughts bounced like balls, 

and the monster from the deepest part of her soul slowly crawled out in the light. 

It fed off her biggest fear, 

failure. 

And now it was feasting in her dark thoughts and insecurities. 

The black shadow spread in her mind like sun rays in the morning, 
hitting everything visible and affecting it. 

Her body reacted immediately, changing her pulse from human to rabbit, 
as fast as a lightning striking a tree. 

She had to start all over with the counting to ten to handle it all. 

With her hand pressed against her stomach to slow down her breathing, 

she tried to escape the terrifying monster of darkness again. 

This time her soul floated like a butterfly through the dream world, 

built of clouds, rainbows and valleys filled with flowers. 

Containing animals playing around her in the green grass and she imagined the feeling of their soft fur against her hand. 

But especially she dreamt about the stars, 

oh how she wanted to see the burning lights in the sky. 

Looking so weak with their faded, flickering flames, 

yet so powerful. 

Millions of lightyears away, 

still their light cut through space, 

finding its way to her. 

And maybe they knew, 

maybe they didn’t. 

That their flickering light had saved her life. 

Suddenly she felt it in her bones, 

like wolves’ instinct to howl at the moon. 

She heard them screaming her name, and then she soared. 

She cut through the air like an arrow, 

feeling the wind dance in her hair and the cold tickle her body. 

Flying so high that she didn’t bare to look down, 

soon so far away that she slowly faded to a glowing dot on the night sky. 
Becoming a star in outer space, 

able to save someone else’s life with her own flickering light.

by Alice Helstad