The bard and the board

One of the things that I miss in my virtual classroom is a blackboard. The blackboard is my back board-- a solid surface to which I frequently turn, as I would to a trusted friend. Of course, strictly speaking, the blackboard at school is a green board. Besides, there are whiteboards, so all three could be more correctly categorised as boards. Anyway, as Shakespeare’s charming Juliet might rhetorically enquire, what’s in a shade? A board of any colour works as well as another.

Talking of Shakespeare, I have been expounding his works for over four decades. I begin my discourse by scrawling William Shakespeare across the board. This is not redundant. While my students are aware that there is no escaping the dramatist, that realisation proves ineffectual when they try to spell his surname.

They write Shakespeare as Shakespear, which reads as if William is wielding a weapon! Since I keep reiterating that the pen is mightier than the sword, youngsters probably find ‘spear’ a suitable semi-sobriquet. I feel that the omission of the last letter is taking ‘What’s in a name?’ a little too far. I insist on the inclusion of that final ‘e’, although weird variations of Shakespeare prevailed in the past. In the 19th century, it was actually Shakspere!

I also use the blackboard to clarify concepts pertaining to Literature. For example, I illustrate (quite literally) what we mean by the word plot in drama. Drawing a series of horizontal, interlinked rings, I declare, ‘Plot is a series of events, each of which is connected to the next.’ My explanation, reinforced with reference to the play we are studying, appears crystal clear to me, not least on account of my definitive diagram. Evidently, my masterpiece lacks merit. When I ask for the literary term for a cause-effect storyline, I expect to hear an emphatic ‘Plot.’ The resounding response, however, is ‘Chain!’

Scorning such setbacks, I have acquired a blackboard to supplement my online instruction. It reminds me of my childhood, when I scribbled on a slate mounted on a makeshift easel, with my dolls in attentive attendance. As I teach indoors again, the wheel has come full circle! That expression, slightly adapted, owes its origin to Shakespeare’s ‘King Lear’; appropriate, I would say. For me, the two have always been inseparable: the Bard and the board!