Accidental Culture

A few years ago, one of my middle school students said something about Billy Elliot—he was probably reading a computer banner ad aloud—and a particularly rough eighth grade boy said, “I’ve seen that movie.”

Aware of the danger of biased assumptions, but still thinking that it was highly unlikely, I said, “You’ve seen Billy Elliot?”

“Yeah.”

“The British film?”

“Yeah,” said Vincent*, “the one about the kid that sneaks off to take ballet when his dad thinks he’s learning to fight.”

I asked him what he thought of it, expecting him to denigrate it somehow.

“It was a really good movie. I liked it.”

“It was a good movie. I’m really glad you enjoyed it.”

Now, I was seeing this kid through a slightly different lens, but something still didn’t fit.

“Did you watch it on HBO?”

“No, I got it from the video store.”

“Well, I’m really glad to hear you were willing to check out something new.”

“Yeah.” He was beaming at the unexpected adoration. And then, not realizing that it was a confession of sorts, he said, “I checked out Billy Madison, but someone accidentally put Billy Elliot in the box.”

I laughed out loud. “Did you notice before you put it in the DVD player?”

“No.”

And so it is that one of my most precious teaching memories is the mental image of Vincent, sitting on the couch with microwave popcorn, expecting Adam Sandler, uttering, “What the…?” and then shrugging and watching the movie anyway.

* Not his real name.