Showing posts with label classroom teacher. Show all posts

12.4.25

Action Figure Challenge on Chat GPT: A Photorealistic Action Figure of Me Teaching Humanities (Complete with Books, Coffee, and Whiteboard Charm)

A photorealistic action figure tribute to the everyday magic of teaching humanities — complete with books, coffee, and chalkboard charm.

"Greig, Humanities Teacher" Action Figure

I can relate to the "Action Figure Challenge" because it brings back memories of me as a kid ogling the newest He-Man action figures in my local K-Mart toy aisle while my mom gathered supplies from the housekeeping department (if you know, you know). When I noticed people using OpenAI's image-generating capabilities to create bespoke action figures of themselves in their professional roles, I knew I had to participate and share my own creation.

Participating in this challenge also serves as a form of healing from a disappointing experience I had with Hasbro and their G.I. Joe action figure promotion. The deal was simple: fill out a form, mail it in with some money, and receive a personalized action figure crafted to your specifications. However, instead of the custom figure I envisioned, Hasbro sent an obviously generic figure with only a printout listing my specifications. Even as a naïve ten-year-old, I knew something was amiss. So here's to you, Hasbro — you contributed to the end of my childhood innocence.

Now that I'm forty-something, I don't exactly play with action figures anymore, though I still have a few figurines hanging around—a pink capybara and a woolly mammoth from Amherst College. Sadly, all my original G.I. Joe, Star Wars, and He-Man figurines are probably languishing in a trash heap somewhere in Arabi, Louisiana (which, in my imagination, is the universal dumping ground awaiting collection by a garbage boat on the Mississippi River).

There's something reflective and even psychologically compelling about action figures. Ostensibly, they're designed for children — particularly those between school age and pre-adolescence, a time when the human mind is especially attuned to play, mimicry, and exploring inner, yet undeveloped fantasies. As a kid, your agency is limited, and you're often at the mercy of your parents. Toy play becomes a way to compensate for this lack of control, simultaneously shaping your vision of your future self. It makes sense, then, why the action figure challenge is trending now: in uncertain times, we often seek solace by imagining ourselves in a simpler era—even though we know, deep down, such simplicity never truly existed.

Here is the prompt I used and fed to Chat GPT (I also added a photograph for the AI to use as a reference:

A full-figure action figure of a person displayed in its original blister pack packaging. 3D toy style.

The packaging header prominently displays the name 'Greig' using bold, stylish typography appropriate for a modern collectible figure. Below or tastefully integrated nearby, the role 'Humanities Teacher' is shown in a clear, complementary font. The overall text design should feel fashionable, appealing, and thematically aligned with the academic and intellectual world of the humanities.

The figure represents Greig and is wearing a dark navy polo shirt tucked into black slacks, reflecting a relaxed yet professional teacher style. His stance is slightly casual with one hand on his hip, conveying an approachable, conversational classroom demeanor. The figure's face should closely resemble the provided image reference.

Inside the blister pack, next to the figure, are the following accessories: a whiteboard with marker, a stack of classic literature books, a reusable coffee mug, a "grading" clipboard, a small desk nameplate that reads “Mr. Greig,” and a laminated class syllabus.

The packaging card design features a chalkboard green background with faint classical architecture sketches and literature quotes, creating an overall attractive and professional backdrop. Add realistic lighting effects that simulate glossy plastic — including soft reflections, subtle highlights, and shadow gradients on the blister surface — to enhance the sense of depth, transparency, and three-dimensionality, making the toy packaging appear lifelike and premium.

Photorealistic rendering, studio lighting, clear focus on the packaging and figure. --ar 2:3

Have you completed the "Action Figure" challenge? Share a link to your creations. I'd love to see 'em.

PDF Copy for Printing

Greig Roselli

I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.

30.11.24

Reflections of a Teacher: Navigating the Challenges of Education in 2024

A teacher's honest reflections on starting a new job, teaching twice-exceptional students, and balancing the messiness of education in 2024.

So, it’s November, and I haven’t posted in a while. Initially, I intended this blog to be a repository of thoughts, ideas, art, places I’ve been, kids I’ve taught, and lessons I’ve learned from the classroom. It’s meant to chronicle museums I’ve visited, books I’ve read, and experiences worth reflecting on. I still want it to be that. But life—particularly my life as an educator—has been anything but static since September. Starting a new job at a new school has consumed most of my bandwidth, leaving little room for reflection.

A snapshot from one of my days in the classroom—circa 2021

For context, my teaching journey has taken me across vastly different landscapes. I began in a Catholic school in New Orleans, (and don't forget my stint as a Benedictine monk working in an academic library). I was a graduate student, moved to New York, worked at the New York Public Library, taught as an adjunct at a two-year college, and spent a year teaching humanities to sixth graders in Harlem. I devoted eight years to a school in Jackson Heights, Queens, where I taught middle and high school students a mix of humanities and ESL. Now, I’ve landed at a private school for twice-exceptional (2E) students—learners who are both gifted and face learning differences, such as dyslexia, persistent demand avoidance, autism, or attention deficit profiles.

Starting anew has been equal parts invigorating and exhausting. No matter its mission or demographic, every school presents its own challenges and rewards. Yet, the universal truth of teaching is this: it’s an all-consuming job. There’s always “pre-work” to do before stepping into the classroom. And, increasingly, the generational shifts among students—compounded by the effects of COVID—have made the traditional classroom experience feel antiquated. Students seem less invested in conventional academic structures but more hungry than ever for authenticity and relevance.

My current school’s emphasis on neurodivergent learners has shifted my perspective on what education should look like. The mantra here is, “The social is academic, and the academic is social.” At first, this sounded like educational jargon, but working with my students has brought it to life. Teaching here feels a lot like riding the New York City subway. To get anywhere, everyone needs to collaborate. You step aside to let someone off the train; you take off your backpack to make room. It’s not perfect, but it works and is the same in the classroom. We accommodate each other’s needs and create space for everyone to thrive, even when messy.

My class sizes are small—no more than six or seven students per group—yet the diversity of needs can make it feel like managing a classroom of thirty. Each student’s learning profile is unique, which means cookie-cutter solutions don’t work. I quickly scrapped my original plan to teach two courses to split between four classes. Instead, I stacked all the books I planned to teach across my courses, laid them out, and asked students to participate in a ranked-choice vote. It was a beautiful exercise in agency and choice—though, inevitably, some still complained.

The result? Four completely different curriculums for four unique classes. While this approach has made my work exponentially harder, it’s also been rewarding. My students’ engagement rises when they feel ownership of their learning. But this level of customization requires constant energy, and by November, I’m spent.

I’ve been reflecting on the school labor divide—between teachers, administrators, and support staff. Despite being in a supportive environment, I sometimes feel the disconnect between those in the trenches of the classroom and those shaping broader policies or initiatives. It’s a gap that underscores the growing challenges of education in 2024. What does it mean to be a teacher today? What does the future of schooling hold?

For now, I’m left with more questions than answers. I know that teaching requires empathy—for students, colleagues, and, perhaps most importantly, for myself. It’s easy to be self-critical, to feel like I’m not doing enough or doing it well enough. But then, moments of connection with students remind me why I do this work.

One thing I love about my new job is how honest the kids are about their needs. They realize they have "lagging skills," even though they don't always buy in to my strategies to help (but, hey, that's human). I did have a breaking point a few days ago—when I realized that I was emotionally drained—but there is no rest for the wicked in education. You got to do it all over again the next day. But my students gave me a lift when we read a scene from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof—and everybody gave their best effort in doing an American southern accent. It was a blast. I am so happy we are reading this play—it's fantastic!

So, here’s to embracing the exhaustion, the messiness, and the uncertainty. This post is less a polished reflection and more a snapshot of where I am. Let’s call it a work in progress.

PDF for Printing

Greig Roselli

13.12.23

Embracing Humanity: A Personal Journey into Understanding Suffering

Join me in a candid exploration of personal dysphoria, as I delve into the universal nature of suffering and its deep-seated role in our psyche.

Hello everyone! It’s Wednesday, just before our significant holiday break. Christmas is approaching – exciting times indeed! I hope you don’t mind a more personal touch in today’s video. Lately, I’ve been grappling with feelings of dysphoria – this sense of being stuck. It’s a deep-seated part of my psyche, and acknowledging it is crucial for me.

In sharing this, I want to highlight that pain and suffering are universal human experiences. Often, we perceive these feelings as intensely private. For instance, when I express that I’m sad, suffering, or feeling down, words somehow seem insufficient. It’s challenging to convey the depth of human suffering through language alone. Think about it: when doctors ask us to rate our pain on a scale of 1 to 10, they’re attempting to quantify something inherently subjective.

As an educator, especially in the humanities, I believe it’s essential to deeply understand and contemplate suffering. My role isn’t just to impart knowledge; it involves exploring the complex representation of suffering in art, and sharing it in a way that resonates and provides catharsis – a concept the Greeks profoundly understood as the purging of emotions. In a sense, this video is my way of seeking a purgation of emotions.

We’re almost at the break, everyone. Hang in there, and thank you for listening. Take care. Bye!

PDF Copy for Printing

Greig Roselli

19.10.22

Reflecting on Teacher Burnout: Balancing Light Teaching Days and Exhaustion in High School Education

Delve into the realities of teacher burnout and the paradox of exhaustion even on lighter teaching days in a high school environment.

As educators, we often find ourselves caught in a peculiar paradox. Today, I'm throwing it back to the last school year, a time that encapsulates this contradiction perfectly. It was one of those 'light' teaching days, where the academic load was relatively manageable, and yet, I found myself overwhelmed with exhaustion, teacher-tired as we often call it.

How does this happen? You might ask. The reality is that our responsibilities extend beyond classroom teaching. From grading papers, and planning lessons, to being there emotionally for our students, the to-do list is never-ending. These duties, although rewarding, can take a toll on our well-being.

As I reflect on this, I wonder how my fellow educators are coping. Are you experiencing this teacher-tired phenomenon too? Remember, it's okay to acknowledge this fatigue and seek support. After all, even superheroes need a rest day. Let's navigate this journey together.