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Stories... | by ShadowSystems | 2009-04-02 14:22:29 |
| A Connotative Overview -or- The Torture Chamber |
by ShadowSystems |
2009-04-02 14:47:47 |
MWC
Wednesday, April 18, 2001
Homework Assignment One: Page 35, Question 1.
Write a short description of your classroom's communication potential.
What furniture is in the room?
How is the room arranged?
Are the students seated in rows? In a circle?
Where is the instructor's space?
At the front of the room? In the middle?
What are the acoustics like?
Are there any windows in the room?
Do they offer pleasing views? Could they be distracting?
Are there any chalkboards or other visual aids that might affect communication?
Is the temperature comfortable?
Are heaters or air conditioners noisy?
Explain how these and other factors influence the communication that goes on in your classroom.
Conclude your description with a statement about the kinds of communication your classroom encourages.
(An inflexible atmosphere for one-way lectures? An open forum of give and take? An intimate setting for private conversations between members of small groups?)
Room 106: A Connotative Overview
(aka)
A Torture Chamber The Marquis de Sade Would Enjoy.
As I look in through the window of the room, I wonder if I haven't somehow been transported backwards in time & space to France, circa the Dark Ages.
At first glance, I see the Dungeon Masters perch at the head of the chamber, squatting like the proverbial Whip Master on any slave ship, with multiple Racks spaced in rank & file rows down either side of the cell waiting for victims.
Agonizingly microscopic & uncomfortable chairs ring them like vultures on a fresh kill.
The acoustics are excellent as the walls reflect the screams of the tortured back to the ever-gleeful Master; every groan, moan, and whispered plea for mercy heard as easily as the loudest wails, shouts, curses & screams.
There is but one window into the room, and even it is more a sickly portal into the bowels of hell than a cheery eye into the World outside - it fails to be a distraction, even a brief one, for the only glimpse it offers is of the other cells with their prisoners staring back in equal degrees of misery.
A giant mural on the wall behind the Master's perch depicts all the ways in which a human body can be broken; a mind may be shredded and rebuilt to think anything the Master wants it to.
The air is dank and musty, hot and thick with the eons of damned souls still trapped inside, and the feeling of claustrophobia is as overwhelming as the smell.
One constantly hears the Whispers of The Damned as they beg for release, and such murmurings often drown out the sadistic monologue of the Dungeon Master as he imparts his twisted knowledge into the zombified minds of his victims.
The Master encourages his victims to put their two cents worth in - the more voices adding to the general malaise the better - and it matters not if we scream alone, or en masse, as the Master feeds upon it all.
Room 106: A Denotative Overview.
(or)
Oh Look, A Broom Closet.
But then I blink and the vision clears.
The room consists of the teacher's desk at the head of the room, opposite the door.
It faces the twin rows of the card tables serving as desks, and forces everyone's eyes to remain forward if they intend on following the lesson.
The chairs are reminiscent of Kindergarten's butt-numbing devices that no child ever managed to sit still in, and yet they have, for some reason, brought them back for us to sit in as adults.
You can hear every word, cough, belch, and whispered fly's mumble, but this isn't so much that the acoustics are excellent as it is to the fact that the room is only marginally bigger than a broom closet.
The one window is worthless to anyone not sitting either on the teacher's desk, or right up against the glass itself, as the only view it offers is of the blank wall facing the room.
There is a chalkboard at the head of the room, behind the teacher's desk, but it has seen better days and is in dire need of a strong cleaning.
The room's temperature alternates between lukewarm to freezing, depending on if the air conditioner has hiccoughed into life at that particular moment or not.
Communication is encouraged, but often runs off topic and leads to rambled diatribes about politics, life, and other completely unrelated verbal detritus.
The room isn't conducive to gathering in groups - there isn't enough room to move about, much less circle ones chairs.
[Note: I got an A on this. hehehehe]
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