UBC LLED367-302 2016

lled367finalcopylessonplan-2

You think your Mr. Smarty Pants

You bring up silly examples to prove a point

Everyone still loves you

You goofy old man

I groan in pain, leaning into my seatbelt as the car jerks to a stop.

“We’re here! Get up!” my sister snaps, slapping my shoulder before hurriedly rushing out of the car and out my arm’s reach. Shoulder throbbing and blurry eyed, I step out of the car and take in a long, deep breath. A familiar fishy smell greets my ever sensitive nose, and I fight to hold back my grimace because I knew my dad was watching. I can’t risk upsetting him with the season just around the corner. He can’t feel, under any circumstances, like he has already lost the fight. So, I suck it up and shuffle down the ramp with my family.

My dad unlocks the boat, and my sister and I scramble into the cabin and immediately claim our seats. She shoves me against the wall as I laugh in triumph. I got the better seat this year. We settle in as my dad fires up the engine and sets off towards the wharf.

The shops come into view as we chug along the water, and I can feel my excitement bubbling in my chest. My sister and I automatically jump up from our seats as we pull closer to the dock, and we each grab a rope. Our boat sidles up next to the wooden planks, and I’m overjoyed because I can finally see the red roof, the frozen yogurt shop. Today’s going to be a good day, and dad’s fishing season is going to be great, I just know it.

Below is a racist letter written to the editor of a BC newspaper. Because of public complaints, the letter was removed from the newspaper’s website.

It was only 12,000 years ago, or less and this would be considered; in all those years the so-called First Nations:

• Never “discovered” the wheel
• Never had a written language.
• Never discovered astronomy
• Had no science or scientific discovery.
• Had no mathematics
• Made no medical discoveries
• Never had written music.
• Only “figured out” a drum and a rattle for musical instruments
• Had no metallurgy
• Had no sails for boats (only had canoes.)
• Created virtually no mechanical devices
• Possessed almost nothing that required hard manual labour over a period of time, i.e: building with or carving out of stone
• Made almost no inventions
• Are just in the last 200 years getting caught-up to most of the rest of the world
• Have a history that is notable only for underachievement

Are these people in trouble? Yes.

Do they need help.? Yes.

Are they responsible enough to look after themselves and efficiently spend the billions the tax payers are giving them? Certainly not.

The only way to fix this situation is to bring them into society as equals. They should be getting jobs and paying taxes like the rest of us because in reality, they are no more special than any of the hundred or more other cultures that call Canada home.

Turn off the taps. Do away with this “traditional use” and “cultural” nonsense. Educate their children to become modern citizens

Instead of finding their identity and source of pride in some folks who occupied the land 15,000 years ago. Let them stand or fall on their own account.

Just like the rest of us have to.

“Shanghai, Hong Kong, egg foo young / Fortune cookie always wrong.”

Slinky                                                                                                                                                    Lissome                                                                                                                                                   S-s-s-sinous Asian felines,                                                                                                                                                       You’re up to no good,                                                                                                                     Aren’t you?

Sick, slant-eyed opportunists,                                                                                                                You can’t be trusted.                                                                                                                             Clearly.

What doe-eyed  Cocker Spaniel ingenue could hope to prevail                                         Against the merged malevolence of your magnificent tails?

The following example is for a lesson in dialogue.

“Little Pig, I know you’re in there!” shouted Mr. Wolf.

“No I’m not,” replied Little Pig rather sarcastically.

Mr. Wolf was not having it. “Hey Pig, I need some advice,” he pleaded, “please come out!”

Just then, Mr. Wolf felt a little tickle in his nostril. He huffed and he puffed and he sneezed that little tickle right out of his nose.

“AAAAACHOOOOOOO!” he bellowed. 

And with that, Little Pig’s house crumpled in a pile of straw and sand.
“Oops,” admitted Mr. Wolf, a little embarrassed.

Little Pig was nowhere to be found.

Mr. Wolf then walk down the street to the next pig’s house.
“Hey Piglet, I need to ask you something.  Come out!” he shouted once more.

“Can’t hear you!” mocked Piglet.

“Yes you can,” Mr. Wolf responded irritated, “you just heard me ask you to come out!”

“No I didn’t,” replied Piglet.

“How annoying,” murmured Mr. Wolf to himself. 

Just then, Mr. Wolf felt a little sniffle in his nostril. He huffed and he puffed and he sneezed that little sniffle right out of his nose.

“AHHHHCHOOOOO!!! he sneezed. “Ah, that felt good,” he announced to nobody in particular.

He looked down and saw the house of twigs in a pile on the ground.

“Oops,” Mr. Wolfe whispered to himself, “not again.”

Piglet was nowhere to be found

Reluctantly, Mr. Wolf went to Boss Hog’s house. 

“Boss Hog, can you open up? I’ve got a question you might be able to help me with!” shouted Mr. Wolf, with a little less confidence than before.

“Whaddya want, Wolf?” bit back Boss Hog.

“I’ve got a cold,” cried Mr. Wolf, “and I don’t know what to take for it.”

“Ahhhh! Hows about some tea with ginger and lemon and honey, followed by a little bit of pink medicine and a good night’s sleep.” said Boss Hog thoughtfully.

“Great idea!” shouted Mr. Wolf. “Wow,” he said, “that was really good advice, Boss. I knew I could on you pigs.”

Just as Mr. Wolf was turning to leave, he felt a little flutter in his nostril.  He huffed and he puffed and… and… and… “AHHHHHCHOOOOOOOO!”

Mr. Wolfe sneezed that flutter right out of his nose.  He also blew the roof off of Boss Hog’s big brick house.

“My bad,” said Mr. Wolf with a sly grin. 

I stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and still rubbing my eyes. Opening the refrigerator, I squinted my eyes at the sudden light and peered in. What I saw confused my still sleepy brain. Stacks and stacks of aluminum foil pans. Nothing else.

I blinked. Where was my breakfast? My normal breakfast? “Mooooommm!!” I knew she was awake already. If she wasn’t, oh well. My breakfast time was ticking away. My mom walked into the kitchen casually, as if the world was still normal.

“Hannah, you’re so loud in the morning.”

I was rushing around gathering things into my backpack. There was no time to waste. “Mom, where did you put my yogurt? There’s only stacks of pans in the fridge.”

My mom opened the fridge and brought out one of the pans. “Oh, there wasn’t any room for your food so your dad ate them all. We needed the fridge space for all the lo bak go and leen go. You know how your grandma’s friends get at this time of year. They make around 100 and give half to us.”

Great. Now I was stuck eating mushy cake pie things every meal for the next two months. My stomach gave a mournful growl. It knew what was up. Happy Chinese New Year everyone.

In the story ‘The Rabbit’ by R.P. Macintyre, the son ends up being smarter than the parents. Write about a time when you were smarter than the person in authority. Use as many adjectives as you can without repeating:

(actually, this is when my 10 year old proved smarter than me)

One rainy morning, upon waking in his disastrous bedroom, my ten year old son began screaming in a shrill manner. “Mom”, he yelled with a helpless edge to his voice. “My iPod is dying a horrible death. It strangely refuses to charge!”

We were already running extremely late, me having selfishly snoozed the alarm too many times, ensuring a rushed morning for everyone else.

“I’m sorry to hear”, I replied. “I understand how exceptionally important your iPod is to you, but we’re severely late and you’re being excessively dramatic about this.”

Eventually, he was gently coaxed into the car, but his mood was markedly sulky. “This is an awful, unfix-able problem”, he whined. “And you don’t understand. I know you don’t!”

“That is an exorbitant lie!”, I retorted. “I do so understand!”

Two days later I received a strikingly legitimate looking email from an old friend, insisting I click on a link. So I did. And then my brand new laptop shut down and began to make a funny whirring sound.

“This is horrendous!” I cried, in a defeated sounding voice.

“What’s wrong Mom”, my interested son asked.

“I think my $1200 laptop has contracted a dreadful virus through a loathsome email link”. I embarrassingly  began to sob in a dejected, heart-breaking manner.

“That’s awful”, he replied.

“You”, I said, “do not understand just how heinous this is, and how despondent I am.”

“Turns out that I was completely right”, he replied, “when I said you didn’t understand how disastrous it was for me when my beloved iPod stopped working”. “Oh well, “he said, “now you do”…