Hmmm...

Well, I met with the 101 today. I can't quite get a read on it, but I think I may be in for a bit of a bumpy ride. Two students were such eager beavers that they had already looked at the Blackboard page--and they were sort of freaking out (trying to do more than they needed to), so I had to talk them down from the ledge there. One of those students and a young woman confessed to coming from the Basic Education program--which is reserved for people who hit the trifecta of developmental course needs: reading, writing, math. (Some in Basic Ed start out functionally illiterate and innumerate. How did they graduate high school? Social promotion.) A couple of the students seem to have a little more wattage than the run of the mill. Two already looked like they've given up and zoned out.

And most of them didn't laugh--didn't even smile--at my jokes. I wasn't quite as daffy as I was yesterday; I didn't get the feel from the room that my sense of humor would fly. However, with the exception of the two who had already checked out, they listened with avid attention and interest to my philosophizing in general. I combined value of liberal arts, college will change you, and working through frustration in one glorious (ahem), one relatively coherent riff.

That, I think, more than anything, may make the difference to how the class rolls from here, oddly enough. I also had the presence of mind to have them tell me what's due next class, so they get used to the structure of the assignment schedule. I set out the reasons why students may be asked to leave (no homework, looking at an electronic device), and that I don't believe in "excused" absences. I hit the high points, I think.

I take it as a good sign that a number of them wanted to talk to me after class. One of the two who had freaked himself out over what's on Blackboard (the one who admitted to coming from Basic Education) told me that he'd already overcome a hurdle: he agreed to read part of the syllabus aloud, and he was very nervous about doing that. He has good reason: he clearly struggled to read the words. I wonder, in fact, if he may be dyslexic or something along those lines--but he heroically managed to get through it. I'm delighted that he tried--and I'm hoping that the problem is with reading aloud, not with reading period. We'll find out soon enough.

Two students know already that they have to miss class for unavoidable reasons, which I appreciate knowing about, but one of them worries me a great deal. She is in the Marines, and she has to do two weeks of service that will keep her from class right when we're finishing up the first essay. I asked her to email me to remind me to look at the schedule to see what we can figure out. I don't want to make her drop the class, but ... yeeks. The other student who has to miss was the other student who was freaking out over Blackboard. He has to miss class on Monday, which is another "puts the student behind the 8-ball" situation: I hope he can follow the schedule well enough to download what he needs so he can come to class prepared on Wednesday.

The one that struck me most forcefully, however, was a young woman in the class--the other student who confessed to coming from Basic Ed. When I said--in my extended riff--that I understand that writing doesn't come easily to everyone, that some people find it incredibly challenging, she lit up: it was one of those validating moments, when a student hears, "You're not alone." She's truly terrified--and after class, as I was giving her encouragement and trying to soothe her, she kept tearing up. She asked if there are counselors on campus; her Reading teacher told her that she doubts herself too much, and suggested that she get help. I agreed with that--and I also encouraged her to see me, to reach out to me in any and every way she can. When she was talking about how hard writing is for her, she said, "It makes me feel less than I am." I reminded her that her struggles with academics are not who she is: they're just how her brain is wired. I don't know what to expect from her. She may dissolve; she may implode--or she may find unexpected reserves and surprise herself with her ability to get through the semester. Neither she nor I can tell yet.

Meanwhile, I keep sort of obsessively checking the first discussion board for the Nature in Lit. So far, three of twenty-three students have actually posted anything. If I don't see more posts by end of day tomorrow, I'm going to send out another announcement, reminding students that, yes, the semester has already started and yes, they have to adhere to a specific schedule. I'm meeting Paul for dinner tonight, and I intend to ask him if he experienced a slow start in terms of students starting the work of the term when he taught online last semester.

And speaking of Paul: it's time for me to head out to meet him for dinner. I have a lot to do tomorrow, but I am, nevertheless, going to let myself sleep without an alarm. That almost certainly means I'll be awake at 4:00 a.m., as I was this morning (unable to drop back off until after 5), but ... once I drop back off (if I do), I won't be jolted out of it by NPR. That's a thing of beauty.