Wiedemann’s Trinkets: A Ranking

Josh Allman, Staff Reporter

English teacher Chrissy Wiedemann’s room is iconic. It is always dark. The blinds are broken. There are never enough chairs, and they are always facing the wrong way. It is a comforting arrangement. Posters of all kinds fill the walls, from influential writers and actors to war propaganda. Random tchotchkes that leave their backstories up to interpretation crowd the bookshelves. These objects make the room feel like a home, but they are not created equal.

7. Coming in last is the treasure chest at the top of the corner shelf with the old television. Its skull and bones illustrations along with the phenomenal woodwork make for a beautiful decoration. A prominent feature, the cracked lid, has been begging me to open it since freshman year. After this agonizing time of wanting to know what is in the chest, I finally got the chance. Turns out a homemade cardboard remote with fake batteries was the answer to my burning question.

6. In sixth is the last of the World War I project posters that decorate one wall. The large teal paper saying “Wanna look like these hawties? Enlist now!” depicts Leonardo DiCaprio and Harry Styles as war heroes. Convincing enough for me.

5. Fifth are the various purple bookshelf toppers. The chia head, Darth Maul figurine, red M&M, dragon head on a stick, Scooby-Doo lunch box and John Lennon holding up a peace sign raise confusion and hilarity. This awkward combination of unrelated objects would make no sense anywhere outside of Wiedemann’s room, but there, it feels normal.

4. In fourth is Wiedemann’s old computer. The neon green case, the crowded stickers — it embodies her room on a computer case. Presentations on Shakespeare’s life and several viewings of Romeo and Juliet’s balcony scene never occurred without noticing the bright computer at the podium. Wiedemann’s recent switch to the new MacBook is devastating, but the original laptop lives on at her desk.

3. The bronze medal goes to the fin atop the raised cabinets. Especially on sunny days, light entering the room reflects on a shiny silver fin. A pinnacle of the classroom, the fin’s origin is unknown. I imagine Wiedemann wrestled a shark in a Caribbean scuba adventure to get the fin for her classroom.

 

2. In a close call, the runner up is Wiedemann’s desk. Papers and various decorations fill the desk, and the wall next to the desk is overflowing with photo memorabilia. How she manages her hundreds of essays to edit and vocabulary quizzes to grade is beyond me, but it gets done.

1. Taking the prize for the most iconic object in Wiedemann’s room is the excessive Leonardo DiCaprio paraphernalia. A t-shirt wrapping her desk chair, a miniature cut out of the actor, two posters with several pictures and his face on a stick. Every year, the class watches Baz Luhrmann’s version of Romeo + Juliet, starring none other than DiCaprio, only fueling the English teacher’s obsession.