Breather!

Oh, hooray! I can hardly believe my good fortune. Not only is it very quiet in Advisement today (I saw three students and now no one is waiting, so I'm free for the time being), I also got all the proposals evaluated, graded, and returned to students--along with reading journals for today's 102. I collected another batch of reading journals from the 102, but I postponed collecting the journals for the short story class: we spent the class period working on getting their proposals approved instead. One approval is complete (Mr. Determined/Dedicated: well done!); several are close, others will require more work. I hope that Monday is not completely consumed with getting the remaining proposals approved; again, I encourged students to work for those approvals via e-mail over the weekend. If the approvals don't take too long on Monday, we can talk about the story we were meant to discuss today, but if that doesn't happen, ah well. We'll just have two stories to discuss on the last days of class, which is peachy.

The one unhappy moment was that I had to give a student the bad news that he's not going to pass the class. He was skating on extremely thin ice all semester long, and didn't get his proposal to me on time. I told him that deadline is absolute--yes, even if his grandfather had to be rushed to the hospital. I'd be more inclined to give him a little benefit of the doubt if A) any of his preceding papers had ever been on time and B) I'd gotten some kind of panic-stricken e-mail begging for mercy. The fact that he just showed up today and expected to be given more time? Nope, won't fly. He was furious, stormed into the room to get his coat and bags saying "I just wasted a whole semester" (I guess you did, if you choose to see it as a waste), and then he stormed back out again, saying, "Good luck to all the rest of you." I wasn't sure if that was a slam at me (as in, "with that bitch as a professor, you all are going to need luck") or if he sincerely felt a connection to the other students and wished them well. Strangely at variance with his behavior, his tone actually sounded more like the latter than the former--but who knows. In any event, he truly won't be hurt by having to spend another semester in school. Maybe he'll learn something about responsibility, if nothing else.

But I confidently expect another negative review on Rate My Professor.

However, to balance that moment, at the end of class, two students made a point of letting me know how much they appreciate the time and energy I put into communicating with them. One of them said, "Most professors are like, 'Whatever,' but you really care; you really want us to do well." Yes, I do; thank you for noticing. I did thank them for the praise--and it genuinely does make me feel not only happy but relieved. My efforts are not in vain: at least some of the students actually value the experience they're having.

I don't remember if I said yesterday that the class started with a comment from a student: "Are you sure you're in the right place?" I asked what she meant, and essentially, the students embarked in a discussion of whether I belong at a community college. I said yes, in fact, that's precisely where I do belong. One student said I was harder than the professors she'd had at Stony Brook (which is unlikely--but even if so, that wouldn't have been the case had she stayed there); another said I was more like the professors at his previous four-year school than like other professors at Nassau. Perhaps (though I know many of my colleagues here are every bit as tough as I am), but even so, isn't that what they want? They kept saying "yes, but...." Yes, they want to be prepared, but it hurts. Yes, they would rather know that they may never find another class as hard--but the hardness is overwhelming right now. Eventually, one of them said, "It's a compliment," so I said, "Thank you. But it doesn't sound like one." Later, the student who had started that particular ball rolling apologized to me, saying she hadn't meant to say anything bad about me. I reassured her: I was not offended, or upset in any way. I just wanted them to consider what they were really saying, what they really want.

Yesterday's class was a little bit scratchy (again the problem of them asking so many questions, jumping ahead and worrying about little details that I had a hard time getting to what we needed to focus on); today's 102 was great. We were discussing Le Guin's essay "Is Gender Necessary? (Redux)" and the intro to the novel, and the students had great comments and questions. We ended up getting into some pretty advanced concepts and philosophical questions, and they were right there, soaking it in. I could practically smell and taste the deep thought going on, and that's the classroom experience I love most. That's real college stuff, guys, no bullshit.

We'll see what tomorrow brings, from the 102. I do have their final journals on the novel to mark--and then all the other mounds and heaps and piles of work I've not been able to attend to yet--but I intend to do nothing else productive with the balance of today. I have what I hope will be one final appointment about my stupid tooth tomorrow morning, but after that, I can come to campus and dive back in. I may even come in on Friday--unlikely, but one never knows (lots to mull over about that before I decide, and the decision will probably happen at the last minute). And tonight, I truly believe the breather, small though it will be, will do me more good than trying to grind through more work. Suddenly, the waiting room has filled up, but I'm only here for about another 30 minutes, after which I intend to go to the office, drop off my wheelie-pack full of student detritus, grab my purse, and leave. Imagine: I may even be home before it's fully dark. Wouldn't that be a miracle?