På vores årlige exchange til USA hos vores partnerskole Hoggard High School i Wilmington, North Carolina samarbejdede vi denne gang med en amerikansk engelskklasse om ’Local Legends’ for: The south loves its local legends and ghost stories!
Som en del af forløbet blev vi en regnvåd formiddag guidet gennem Down Town Wilmingtons hjemsøgte steder, og til slut i forløbet skulle eleverne skrive deres egne ’legends’ i grupper med både amerikanske og danske elever. De måtte opfinde deres egen historie eller tage elementer fra en eksisterende og brygge videre på den. Historien skulle indeholde de karakteristika, der kendetegner denne genre som for eksempel overnaturlige elementer, ”Rygtet siger” og en form for ’dare’.
Her følger et par af elevernes uhyggelige historier:
Fort Fisher Hermit - Robert Harrill
As a child my mother used to tell me stories about her experiences with a local hermit who lived at Fort Fisher at Carolina Beach. His name was Robert Harrill and at the age of 62 he left a hard life in the mountains for one of simplicity on the coast. He made his home in an old civil war bunker. He scavenged off the land and lived a quiet, humble life. Teenagers loved to play pranks on him and Robert would just smile eerily as if he knew something they didn’t.
One day Robert randomly disappeared and no body or trace of his whereabouts ever found. Then at Fort Fisher weird things began to happen. Local teenagers would dare each other to sleep in the bunker Robert once dwelled in but not one would last the whole night.
Then on one tragic night the unthinkable happened. A 16-year-old boy disappeared never to be seen again. Two years later, though, a casket was found floated ashore. Police lifted the lid and there were the remains of the 16-year-old boy. In the casket was a stone engraved with the initials “RH”. The police thought, “No, this couldn’t be possible” but there was no other explanation. Robert Harrill or his ghost was very much there and haunting the bunkers he used to call home.
Roland Grise Middle School
A long time ago my grandpa told me the story about a girl who died at Roland Grise Middle School. It was the second year of Roland Grise being open. There was a ninth grade girl named Sarah who was getting ready for formal one night when all of a sudden she heard someone knocking on her door. Sarah answered the door and it was her friend Jessica. Jessica told Sarah to go out to her car so they wouldn’t be late for the formal.
On the way to the formal, Jessica asked Sarah if she had heard about the secret ladder to the roof of Roland Grise. Sarah had never heard the story of the secret ladder and was very intrigued. By the time the story was over, Sarah and Jessica had arrived at Roland Grise. They got out of the car and walked to the front of the building. Sarah was wearing new red 3-inch high heels that were difficult to walk in. When the two girls got to the front of the building, they realized they are standing where all the ninth grade boys hung out. The boys all began to talk about the secret ladder.
Once again, Sarah felt very drawn to the phenomenon and wanted to climb it. The stud of the school, James Smith, was standing by the ladder trying to find someone who would climb it with him. James called Sarah over and dared her to climb to the top. Sarah wanted to impress James and was curious about the ladder and decided to go for it.
When Sarah and James got to the top of the school, it began to rain very hard. Sarah could not walk very well in her new heels because she was not used to them and in addition, it was raining. Sarah decided that she wanted to walk to the edge of the roof and slightly lean over the edge to impress Jessica and James. As she was getting to the edge, she stepped into a puddle and lost her balance. All her classmates heard after she fell off this elusive roof was a loud thump on the ground.
The newspapers later reported that she fell 33 feet to her death and that she landed in the very middle of the front courtyard near many parents and teachers who could only watch in horror as she fell to her death. From that day on, at every formal at Roland Grise, if you listen very closely, you can hear her red 3-inch heels walking across the roof, and if you pay close attention, you can see the shadow of Sarah leaning over the edge of the roof.
Sammen med en amerikansk historieklasse arbejdede vi med begreberne ’national identitet’ og ’nationalisme’. I tilknytning hertil skulle eleverne arbejde med uddrag af en tekst af den irske historiker og samfundsforsker Benedict Anderson, der definerer nationer som "forestillede fællesskaber". De blandede grupper skulle som afslutning på forløbet præsentere deres arbejde.
Nedenfor følger en af gruppernes produkt, der blev fremført som en rap:
The Nation as Imagined Community
There once was a dude
Named Benedict Anderson
What did he do?
He defined a Nation
Imagined, limited and sovereign communities.
Now let’s break it down, and take a closer look at these
Sometimes, you gotta use imagination
It’s not always black and white, use creation.
People in a nation will not always meet;
You wouldn’t be likely to see them on the street.
Nations are limited by the borders
This helps keep everyone in order.
A nation is sovereign, it comes from the people
These people unite in the church under the steeple
One more thing
We call it community
What it does is bring together you and me,
In America we call each other brothers,
Because we live in the land between waters,
Nation and culture together we associate,
But characteristics and negatives we abrogate,
Anderson says beyond borders we dissipate,
Stuck in the lines confined like a surrogate
Anderson says spirit is anthropological
I’d never look to see it as if it were economized
At the base of it all we find food,
Systems of people’s lives are construed,
By the basic things we need to survive,
Through nationalism and culture humanity revived.
Her afprøves ekko-effekten på Den canadiske Ambassade i Washington