Freshman Literature
by Beth Lombardi, English Faculty
In our 9th grade Experiencing Literature class we read August Wilson’s play Fences. After completing the play, students wrote eulogies for the main character, Troy Maxson. We were a bit hesitant initially to ask students to take such a non-traditional writing assignment and truly attempt to engage themselves in the process. However, the students produced incredible results and their efforts were observed during the step-by- step process, as well as in their final products. The culminating event was an in-class funeral for Troy, during which students presented their eulogies.
The project was designed in order for students to enhance their ideas and opinions concerning perspective and point of view, as well as to learn to use evidence to support an argument. Students wrote in the voice or from the perspective of another one of the characters in the play. Their eulogies incorporated their own interpretations of characters, as well as how those characters viewed Troy, the main character. Within the context of the eulogy, they had to include evidence in the form of quotes that supported their character’s opinion of Troy. This assignment was challenging for some students, as they had to step outside of themselves and walk in the shoes of someone living under different circumstances and during a different time period.
Not only did students complete the assignment, but the majority of the students also expressed that this was a project they enjoyed doing. They really felt that they learned from the process. As a teacher, the rate of completion for this project was the highest I have ever experienced. Overall, I believe that the non-traditional nature of the project, as well as the extensive scaffolding set the students up for success from the very beginning.
The highlight of this project was without a doubt the culminating event. All three sections of the class presented on the same day. The room was draped in black, soft blues music played and the students filed into the room in a serious and almost somber manner. Each student delivered their eulogy in front of the room. Some presentations were melancholy and depressing, while others were witty and humorous. Each student was able to use their own voice within the voice of the character they chose. The range of perspectives varied immensely. These were proud moments for both teachers and students alike. I look forward to working on this project again next year with the next incoming class of Facing History students.
Below is an example of a eulogy, this one ably written by Victoria M.
My Dad
Good Morning everybody, for those who don’t know me, I’m Cory, Troy’s son. I’m here to talk about my father. Troy was the most powerful and ugly man I ever met in my life. The sad part was that he was my father and I have to live with that. I remember the time when my father didn’t believe in my dream. He didn’t believe in anyone‘s dream. That’s what hurt the most out of everything. I never talked to him about anything, because he never listened to anyone. During that time I realized that, at that point, that he would never believe in my dream or in me. At that very point, I hated him, and I did for a while. ‘’Papa done went up to the school and told Coach Zellman I can’t play football no more. Wouldn’t even let me play the game. Told him to tell recruiter not to come”(Wilson, pg 57).
Despite, all the bad he did, he also showed me how to be responsible and take care of my family. I remember when he said to me that he don’t have to care about me; that it’s just his responsibility to take care of me. “A man got to take care of his family. You live in my house…sleep your behind on my bedclothes…fill your belly up with my food...cause you my son. You my flesh and blood. Not ‘cause I like you! ‘Cause it’s my duty to take care of you. I owe a responsibility to you!...”(Wilson, pg. 38). Right then, I realized that he had a responsibility to me and he didn’t have to give a damn about me. Then there was the way he talked about life. Since he didn’t know any other way to put it, he compared life to baseball and somehow it all made sense. When I was younger, I remember him always talking about me striking’ out. He would say, “Alright that’s strike two. You stay away from around me, boy. Don’t you strike out” (Wilson, pg 83). Boy, I’m going to miss that. He was always talking about baseball. I would never have thought I would say that I miss that. As a result, all of this made me the man I am today. I would be lying if I said I’m nothing like him, because I am. I’ve learned to live with that. At least I am like him in a good way. He never said I love you and that hurt me the most. He showed me tough love. I hope that I will be able to pass on that story to my son, just like he did with me.
Thank you for your time!