Monday: Ick

That 5:30 alarm is just a bitch and a half. I'm counting Mondays until the end of the semester: I never want to teach a D section again. (For those of you with a passion for keeping track, there are seven more of them, including the last day of the semester, dammit.)

The fact that it was a rainy, chilly, raw day today added insult to the injury of the fact that students had a paper due. In my first 102 section, out of 16 students, seven were there with actual papers. Two other students were in the room but not really ready: one was there with rough notes (I let him stay, even though I shouldn't have) and one--who already had five absences and had turned in approximately two homework assignments all semester--I told to withdraw. A relief to be rid of him. One student showed up with his paper too late to participate in the peer review process, but at least he was there with a paper. A few came in via e-mail or were dropped off, and I have promises for a few more, which should be arriving in the next day or so. Several students I haven't heard anything from at all--and one of the ones who seems to be disappearing will be a real loss: he's very smart and has a lot of potential, but he's done almost zero work and has missed a bunch of classes. Shame, really.

A greater number of students showed up for the later section; I have more papers in hand and a most of the remaining students have contacted me about getting papers to me--but there are two students from whom I've had no word, and thus have no clue about.

The best news in that class is that the truculent idiot who has been a pimple on the ass of progress all semester finally got the idea (after getting another failing grade, on his revision of his first essay) and withdrew. The whole class feels lighter and happier having him gone--just to me, I think, but still.

The upshot is that they're continuing to drop away--but the ones who are hanging on are, as I've said before, really starting to latch on and get the hang of the thing. They're working hard--and they're surprisingly undismayed by the grades on their first revisions. The mood in both rooms today was remarkably upbeat, and it was great to see them working their way through the problems, especially with works cited pages (pulling out their style guides, referring to handouts, asking questions, really putting forth the effort). I love watching them think; I love watching them strive. They're learning. The results may not show it yet, but they're learning. Next week I'll have to remind myself that I said that, but it's true.

Of course, I did have to have a serious talk with two young women about taking responsibility for making sure they get what they need--or that they get me what I need. I'm probably being too nice to them, but I'll allow them to consider what I said without imposing any further punishment than the late penalties they've already accrued. Long story in both cases, but ultimately, the point is, they need to demonstrate that they care about their papers and their grades, and they haven't done that very well right at the moment.

It was interesting, too, chunking my way through assignments from the Native American Lit class as the 102 students were doing their peer review. The difference in sophistication, both in terms of writing skills and in terms of analysis, is palpable. Of course, the few students who are left in 229 are all pretty good, and in the 102s I'm still dealing with the wide range of potentialities, but overall, the difference across the semesters is notable.

However, I'm far too tired to do any more work today, early though it is. I wish I were having another day like last Thursday, when lack of sleep led to a sort of manic, Energizer-bunny state, but--blame it on the weather if you will--all I want to do is read Martin Chuzzlewit with a pot of tea at my elbow until I fall into a nap (or it's time to have dinner). So I'll finish my office hour and take care of a few bits of life maintenance before heading home. I won't nap (by the time I'm home it will be too late to nap without utterly screwing up my night's sleep), but work? Nah, not any more today. Stick a fork in me; I'm done.