“I’m Mrs. Jacobs, Jacob’s mom” she announced as she reached to shake my hand, “I’m here to check on his behavior in your English class.”
She smiled, her bright artificially whitened and perfectly spaced teeth reminding me
of a movie star.
“Mrs. Jacobs” I said, “so good to meet you, come in and sit down.”
Her extreme pleasantness made me wonder what she had in mind. She followed me
into the classroom, scanning the movie posters I’d stuck to the walls. As we sat, she pointed to the slightly racy photo of Gwyneth Paltrow from a 1998 release of Great Expectations.
“I see you’re watching Dickens, how do your students like it?”
“Oh, they find the plot a little complicated, but not half as challenging as the black and white 1947 Alec Guinness version.”
She sighed, her unspoken criticism of my methods now surfacing like a bubble in a witch’s cauldron.
“I’d heard from Jacob your classes are required to watch the same book twice, do you think that’s wise?”
“It helps the students focus, to see another perspective.”
Mrs. Jacobs stood, her finger starting to wag in my face.
“What’s the point if they’ve already seen it? You know, at home Jacob has an extensive collection, including the classics. He loves watching books. I’d hate for school to ruin that.”
I let the silence after her rant fill the room, then stood to meet her glare.
“Mrs. Jacobs, this is a college prep course, if Jacob can’t handle the extra work, well, maybe he should transfer to a Twitter class. Next week we’ll be watching Keira Knightley’s 2005 rendition of Pride and Prejudice, followed by Colin Firth’s portrayal of Darcy in the 1995 release, and then the 1980 five part BBC miniseries. If there’s time before midterms, we’ll take in the 1940 Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier production. It did, after all, receive a 1941 Academy Award for Best Art Direction, despite its unfaithfulness to the actual book.”
Mrs. Jacobs could tell I knew my stuff, and she backed down.
“I’m sorry” she said more quietly, “I guess I got carried away, but I worry so much
Jacob will get confused and end up hating movies.”
She reached to wipe a tear away. I handed her a tissue.
“I’m sorry too” I said, “but don’t worry so much, Jacob isn’t likely to get confused. He sleeps through most of class.”
“Really?” Mrs. Jacobs brightened. “You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?”
“No, it’s true. He even snores a little.”
We both laughed a bit, the tension easing. By the time Mrs. Jacobs left she knew I was right, that nobody truly appreciates a good book the first time they see it.
