02.04 Analyzing Characterization TEKS 5B Confessions of a High School Hoarder by: Jason Bray 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 So they say that you don t really learn anything the first few weeks of the school year, especially your Freshman year, when the teachers have no idea what your name is and everyone is getting used to the idea that we aren t kids anymore. Well, I am here to tell you that I sure learned something last week. I learned that there is such a thing as coming to class too prepared. I also learned that you never know what to expect next in Mr. Bray s Reading class I walked into Mr. Bray s class on Wednesday and everything seemed normal. I threw my backpack onto the shelf and sat down at my desk. It s funny how I already thought of it as my desk, even though I d only sat in it for like 8 days. I felt pretty comfortable in my seat. I wasn t fidgeting or fighting the urge to check my hair or tapping my pencil on the desk or anything. I d come a long way since the first day of school. I even said Hi to the girl next to me, something I am not really used to doing. All in all, things were going great. Little did I know, that was all about to change. The tardy bell rang and I was still in my desk, watching Mr. Bray bounce around the room. Man, he s pretty light on his feet for guy his size He took attendance real quick and looked right at me when he called my name. He already knew who I was, which made me feel pretty good. Anyway, Mr. Bray was just about to get started when suddenly, there was a knock at the door. We all turned to see who it was. A kid at the front of the row hopped up out of his desk to open the door. He peeped out of the window and just froze. There was another knock, this time more firm. The front row kid snapped out of his daydream or whatever and turned the doorknob. That s when trouble walked in. Guided Questions answer on your own paper What can you infer about the narrator, based upon indirect characterization in lines 1-7 only? What can we infer from the actions described in lines 11-14? MAKE A GUESS What can you infer from the way the front row kid answers the door? What do you think the trouble will be?
27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 She was the cutest thing I d ever seen. Gorgeous, long, blonde hair. Big green eyes. She walked into the room and showed Mr. Bray her schedule. Mr. Bray said something like, Let s welcome our new classmate but I didn t even catch her name. I was completely and utterly speechless. The whole room seemed to go silent. She was all I could focus on. Oh man, she was so cute Mr. Bray was saying something but I couldn t make out the words. He lifted up his arm and pointed right at me. She turned and looked my way. I thought I was going to die right there. She walked towards me and smiled. She glanced around the room and gave a little wave to someone in the back. It was the cutest little wave I ever saw. Oh man, this was too much What did Mr. Bray tell her? Why was she walking towards me? The pencil in my hand took on a life of its own and started tapping on the desk. I reached up with my free hand and brushed my fingers through my hair. I felt my face getting hot. She was heading right for me When our eyes finally met, she gave a little grin. I grinned back. Then things changed. That s putting it mildly. I should probably say that s when things began to go horribly wrong. The new girl took a seat in the desk right behind mine. I had to fight the urge to tap my foot on the floor. I wanted to turn around and say something, but class was starting, and to be honest, I was terrified. She was so out of my league Maybe she liked bad boys. Maybe I should just turn around and say something to her. Maybe when Mr. Bray got on my case about talking during his lecture, I could say something really cool and funny back to him. But wait, maybe she didn t like bad boys? She did, after all, take a seat right up front with me. So many questions So few answers I could feel the sweat running down my Why do you think the narrator could not hear Mr. Bray s words in lines 32-33? What do you think Mr. Bray said to the new girl in line 38-39? What can you infer about the character s actions in lines 39-41? What sort of characterization is found in line 47? Direct or indirect characterization?
54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 back. Then I heard her voice. It sounded like an angel from heaven had landed behind me and spoke these words softly into my ears psst. Hey. You gotta pencil I can borrow? I turned around halfway and said well, I didn t say anything, actually. I was unable to speak. My pencil tapped faster on the desk. I looked at my hand as if it belonged to someone else. I forced it to stop that crazy tapping. I brought the pencil around and offered it to her without a word. I hoped that she thought I was just trying to stay out of trouble, and not that I was terrified out of my wits. She took the pencil I offered and whispered a quiet thank you that made my spine tingle. It s cool I said in a big, loud voice. I mean a really BIG, awkward, cut-the-teacher-off-right-in-the-middle-of-his-sentence loud way. The whole class looked at me. Mr. Bray just stood there staring at me with those tinted glasses on. I couldn t see his eyes but I could feel his eyeballs drilling a hole into my head. Well I m glad to hear that everything s ok. May I please continue? The whole class laughed. The angel behind me giggled. It sounded like music. I felt the heat rush up into my face. At least nobody but Mr. Bray could see how red I was turning. Thank goodness I m a front row kind of guy I fumbled around with my binder and opened up the bag of pencils I carry. I was so nervous, the whole thing slammed to the floor. Pencils toppled about and rolled all over the floor. I closed my eyes and wondered how I would make it out of class alive. I was certain that I d have a heart attack right here, right on the spot. Dang, man a guy next to me said. What s up with all of those pencils? There must be like a hundred of them, and they re all, like, different and stuff. The whole class, including Mr. Bray, looked down at What do you think made the narrator speak in a loud voice in line 64? What purpose do the hyphens in line 65 serve (why are they there?) What can you infer from the way Mr. Bray speaks in line 69? What do you think a front row kind of guy is? (line 72)
81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 the dozens of pencils on the ground. There were short ones. Yellow ones. Red ones. Mechanical ones. Chewed up ones. There were every type of pencil you could imagine rolling around at my feet. The loudmouth guy next to me spoke up again. Dang, son, look at that madness Yo, man, homeboy here is a straight up PENCIL HOARDER The class burst into laughter. He bent over to pick up a handful. Yo man, check this out He waved the handful around and everyone laughed. EWW, dawg This one has teeth marks ALL OVER it, I mean look at it He continued waving the pencils around, much to everyone s delight. Dude, man, for REAL why you keeping all these trashy pencils, man? What, are you some sort of pencil hoarder? I heard the musical laughter of my angel above everything else above the snorting and laughing from the jerk next to me, above the annoyed shouts from Mr. Bray to quiet down, above the sound of my pounding heart. I heard her laugh and laugh, and I slowly melted into my desk. Mr. Bray gained control of the room, but the damage was done. That was the longest, most painful fifteen seconds of my life. Oh well. I could always transfer to another school, I guess. Maybe somewhere in Saudi Arabia or something. I scooped up the last of my strange pencil collection and sat with my shoulders hunched over. Life wasn t through with me yet. Oh, not by a long shot. Mr. Bray began his lesson again. Ok, ok. That s enough. Ok let s talk about the story we are going to read next. It s an excerpt from a story called The Musgrave Ritual, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It s a Sherlock Holmes story, It was written over a hundred years ago in the sake of saving time, I m going to give you a quick summary of the story. He continued in a loud, booming voice, utterly defeating all of the laughter and chatter. What can you infer about the loud-mouthed guy based upon his speech? Based upon his speech, What sorts of things do you think this loud mouth guy is into? (lines 84-91) What can you infer from the way the new girl laughs? (Line 92)
108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 Things died down quite a bit. I began to cool off. The minutes on the clock slowly ticked away. I was beginning to think that maybe I could do some damage control later and get beyond all the pencil hoarder comments. I was totally ignoring Mr. Bray and trying not to think of the giggling angel behind me. I thought to myself, Maybe she ll think that was cute, or something. I just gotta come up with a good story about the pencils. I began thinking up a crazy story to explain away the fact that I had way too many pencils in my binder. I was feeling much better as my story took shape. I ll just say I found them or something. Found them all in this huge ziplock. Or should I say I stole them? Nah, who would steal a bag of nasty, chewed up pencils? A pencil hoarder? Someone shouted out. Was he a pencil hoarder too? My planning came to a sudden, screeching halt. The class exploded in laughter. I was at a loss. What were they talking about? Oh man, said the angel s voice behind me. This story is right up your alley. Just then, the bell rang. Everyone piled out of the classroom. Mr. Bray approached my desk with a look of concern on his face. I see you didn t highlight your story at all. I understand. It was a rough start to the day for you. Tell you what, take your story home and highlight it there. We stopped right here on line 65, right where we find out that Sherlock Holmes was somewhat of a hoarder. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that Mr. Bray was holding back laughter. The loud mouth guy came back into the room. I forgot my binder, Mr. Bray. Can you write me a late pass? Mr. Bray shook his head, no. He explained that sort of thing was frowned upon, but that the kid could tell his teacher to call if he didn t believe the kid s story about the binder. What is funny about the timing of the speech in line 119?
135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 The kid just shrugged, as if it really didn t matter to him anyway. No problem. I ll run back to my next class real quick, and if I m late, then whatever.. See ya, Mr. Bray. See ya, HOLMES I looked at the kid, then at Mr. Bray. I grew furious. Then I calmed down. Then I broke down. I laughed. Holmes. I had to admit, that was pretty funny. Maybe I was a hoarder, just like Sherlock Holmes, but so what? At least I always had my pencil ready for class. I gathered up my stuff and prepared to leave. Yo, Mr. Bray, I said. You want these pencils? I don t think I ll be carrying them around anymore. Mr. Bray smiled and thanked me. Yeah, I think my days as a pencil hoarder are over, I called over my shoulder as I left the room. I turned to the loud dude as we both exited the class. Hey, man, no hard feelings, huh? I was just playing around with you back there. Yeah, it s cool, I said as we headed towards the cafeteria. So, do you have any idea who that new girl is? Nope, but I m down to go find her. You ready? Yeah, let s go see where she ran off to. Ok, lead the way, Holmes We both laughed as we entered the hall and went off in search of the next adventure. What change do we see in the narrator in lines 138-140? Why do you think the narrator gave his pencils away?(line 143) (5) Reading/Comprehension of Literary Text/Fiction. Students understand, make inferences and draw conclusions about the structure and elements of fiction and provide evidence from text to support their understanding. Students are expected to:(b) analyze how authors develop complex yet believable characters in works of fiction through a range of literary devices, including character foils