Met 'em all

OK, so now I've met all my classes--though not all my students: a few AWOL from each class yesterday and there have already been some drops and consequently new adds. (I don't feel more than a teeny  bit guilty about my sense of jubilation and vindication when I was right about one student in the 102: I knew she wouldn't make it--and she's already gone. Good. Zei gezunt. (I figure a little Yiddish may be appropriate on the eve of Rosh Hashanah)).

But every one of my 13 Fiction Writing students was there today. I can't quite get a read on them yet--but part of that is my fault: I wasn't as jokey and exuberant today as I was yesterday, for whatever reason (let's blame it on Advisement).

I didn't want to just give them the syllabus and first assignments and send them home; I wanted to start breaking the ice right away--and didn't want to do the usual ice-breaker (which I'm getting a little tired of, but it works, so I'll probably keep on doing it anyway: sigh). Before I even started, I told them to put the desks in a circle, and told them that that's how we'll work the class every day. Therefore, as soon as they come in, they might as well put the desks in a circle. I also told them that at the end of every class, we'll put the desks back in rows; I had to remind them, but we did. It's silly stuff, but it gives a kind of ritual to the class: we start with a circle, then we take the circle apart (it's our circle, only ours: no one else gets to have it). But in between, well, what to do? So, in my usual improvisational tap-dance, I had each think of a story to tell--could be real, could be made up--and then the rest of us were supposed to find a way to imaginatively connect that person's face with the name and the story. (I sucked at that, by the way; I'll have to remind myself a number of times--but we'll all be using each other's names, I hope, by the end.) What I found interesting is that they all were willing to tell something about themselves--"I like to help people," "I like science fiction," whatever--but most did not offer an actual story. I had to prompt and cajole and ask--and in at least one instance, I still didn't get a story.

I also found it interesting that at the end, one of the students asked for the story of how I got to teach this class--as I told them that I'd never taught it before--but when I told the story, the young woman who asked was clearly bored witless. I grant you, it's not a very scintillating story. I mean, how "edge of your seat" is it to listen to what happens in scheduling committee? I suppose I could have tried to be more dramatic about it, but may I refer you back to "I wasn't as jokey and exuberant," above.

I apologize--well, not really--but after class I had a lovely conversation with one student. Since she has a food blog (and forgive me for forgetting the name of it: please feel free to enter the name and a link in the comments section, if you're reading this), I mentioned that I keep this blog. I told her I'd no doubt mention her in the blog. I'm amused by how circular these references are, an Ouroboros eating its own tail. But I bring it up because it was the kind of student interaction I particularly enjoy. She has taken other creative writing classes (from the adjunct from whom I stole this one), and she's truly inspired to write. There are at least two other real writers in the group: one who is a Def poet, one who has taken five workshops prior to this one (I think he said) and hopes at last to finish something. (Perhaps I need to say that nothing is every really finished; we just eventually stop working on it.) Those two young men will, I hope, bring enthusiasm to the class, but this woman may also bring a level of genuine dedication. She is older than the rest of the students, coming back to school to continue her education, so she has discipline as well as the fire in the belly.

I was a little worried, on the other hand, by the student who asked if, in choosing the story option in which they get to make up their own character (instead of raiding one from the stories we'll read), she could choose a biblical character. Um, no, I said: if you're using a character from something else, I'd prefer you stick with these stories. However, you can set your story in biblical times, if you like. I'm thinking of the story told me about a student who, when asked for his thoughts about a reading, said his thoughts were with Jesus. I do believe in the value of religion, but not when it prevents a person from thinking about, or experiencing, anything outside that frame. Please, may the young woman in my class simply be fascinated with the stories in the bible and want to imagine further into those lives. I have no evidence that is not the case, so I choose to believe, for now, that she is not a fundamentalist fanatic of some kind. Of any kind.

I'll be very curious to hear what they come up with out of the first reading, come Monday, and to see their reading notes. They all seemed OK with the basic structure: read, write, workshop, revise, repeat. We'll see how it flies. One student was worried about having to read twelve classmate's stories in a week, but I said they're to be 4-6 pages; if anyone writes more than that, we're under no obligation to read past the fourth page. That calmed him down. It's all just a huge experiment right now. We'll all see how it comes together--or doesn't--as we go along.

But that's sort of true with all my classes. I grant you, the classes I teach regularly have a pretty clear structure that I know does work--but even then, there are always significant variations, both because the students are always different and because I'm perpetually tinkering (or doing wholesale gut renovations) to make things work better. With two courses I've never taught before, however, this semester is perpetual practice in "well, we'll see."

Fine by me.

I should read this over, comb through to see if there's anything I missed, find the more felicitous phrase, whatever, but I need to get some groceries, then meet Paul for our first dinner of the semester (no steak and scotch blowout this time, just an ordinary meal). It seems strange that I'm already grateful for a long weekend, but I have a lot of life maintenance to tend to, and it will feel good to get that stuff cleared up before the semester really gets rolling.

So, for those of you for whom it is appropriate, Happy New Year. For the rest, I'll "see" you again Monday--unless something interesting pops before then.