Let's Just Call This "Untitled"

The only reason I am writing this is because I committed myself to writing something each day. And I really don't do that anymore because I have exempted Sundays. But if I exempt any more, I'm afraid I'll stop writing all together. So I am writing this.

Whatever this is.

You see, I have no subject, no theme, no notion of what it is I want to write about. But there must be something or why bother? Well, there's the matter of discipline. Of the kind that does not require silk whips, and at least one scantily leather clad woman with dark hair and flashing eyes and... A little self-discipline is a good trait to have, to exercise.

I was taught this by Miss Grossman, my first ninth grade English teacher. She had a rule, homework would be one third of our grade. I, of course, rebelled. I had nothing special against the rule, mind you, it's just that I was 14 and liked rebelling. I argued my point, which was pretty simple, I thought, and logical.

I got A's and a few B's on tests and quizzes, never lower. I turned in any classwork and this, too, received similar grades. I saw no purpose in homework which merely repeated what was clearly knowledge that I already had.

Miss Grossman was adamant. She said it reinforced that knowledge.

I countered that the test scores proved that I had no need for reinforcement. I argued that homework could actually be detrimental and impede learning. Consider, I said, the student who failed to grasp the concepts then went on and repeated the misconception in his homework. He would now have reinforced his errors and hurt his grades in the process. Yes, it would lead to correction but not immediately. And the students like myself, who did not misconstrue the lessons, would merely be repeating what would be boring. Thus, turning us against any interest the subject might pique otherwise.

She then posited her strongest argument...

It would be a third of my grade and averaging solid A's for all other work against the Zeroes I would get for homework not turned in would result in a, at best, score of 66.6% and that was just below the minimum passing grade of 67% at that time in scholastic history.

I took ninth grade English twice.

And I thought I was smart.

Silly me.

But I still think Miss Grossman would have looked great in thigh high, shiny, leather boots.