. . . but Mercutio started it . . .

I was asked the age old question today, while reenacting Act III, Scene I of Romeo and Juliet. "Why do we have to learn this?"

"You have to admit that it is a good story . . . "
"Yeah, but in twenty years I won't need to know this."

I went on to say that we were analyzing great literature, which is a skill that everyone needs, and that it was about the process of that analysis, rather than the story or the analysis itself.

"Plus, we get to play with these plastic swords . . . " and that seemed to make more sense to them. (My mother buys me presents for my classroom at the dollar store . . . one day they had play swords . . . priceless for death scenes)

I get really into teaching Romeo and Juliet, but I have to admit that I understand it much more being through adolescence rather than in adolescence. It is different looking back at the implusiveness of youth, rather than trying to reflect while in the middle of it. Plus there are all those raunchy parts . . . which I so didn't get in ninth grade. And so I stand, with plastic sword in hand, trying to get across that Romeo and Juliet marry nineteen hours after laying eyes on each other because Shakespeare wanted to explore that teenagers just don't think, about consequences, etc. in a room full of teenagers who just don't think about consequences, etc. Kind of ironic.

What I've learned? They pay more attention with the plastic swords and death scenes.