I'm still here, but my brain has already gone...

In much the same way that I am already partially checked out of the semester, given my pending retirement, my brain has pretty much checked out for the day, already considering itself on its way upstate for a very different kind of learning and teaching.

I do still have to sort through stuff and put a bunch of student assignments in my wheelie pack; as I mentioned yesterday, at least some of that work I truly do need to do over the weekend. I can't do what I sometimes do, which is to schlep it all with me when I leave and schlep it back otherwise untouched. (And no matter how many times I talk to her about it, the cat just will not help me with the grading. She says she'd be happy to leave little tooth marks in the corners of pages, but beyond that, she says, it's my job. Including the, "Cat! Knock it off!" remarks.)

Looking at my email this morning, I realize that, yes, I am dealing with 101 students. They have not quite caught on to the fact that they have responsibility for their own work. Once again, a student simply emailed her essay to me (it was at least a different student this time); she sent it with no explanation, just the "invitation" to look at it on Google Docs. I wrote her a sharply worded email in which I said she had just done the equivalent of tossing her essay at me and walking away as if her responsibility for it were done, and in which I told her that I expect an explanation and apology by email and I expect it soon. (My bet? She won't check her email until next week--if then.) Other students seem to think that not coming to class the day something is due means it isn't really due for them. (High school mentality: your work is only due when you actually show up, so if you want an extension on a project, don't go to class.) Uh, no: a late penalty applies. That said, I did grant a little absolution to three students who were unable to make it to class: one because of a family emergency (I still believe her, but she's had a lot of excuses so far, so my trust is starting to wobble a bit); two because they were driving to campus together and the car got a flat tire. I'll be merciful this time. If it happens again, not so much.

Oh, and I forgot to mention yesterday that the Hot Mess showed up for the 102--and he was bursting with pride that he had found pages of his class reader and actually had done some reading notes. The notes are woefully inadequate, of course, but I told him he'd made a good step in the right direction. I didn't mention to him that it was like that single step that starts a journey of a thousand miles--and he still has a thousand miles to go. Moments like that I feel less like a professor and more like ... well, I don't know. The auntie who is tough with kids when their mom lets them slack, or the crotchety high school teacher who drills accountable behavior into kids: suddenly I'm not a professor dealing with young adults but someone much lower down the chain and dealing with children. Ah well. A place for my frustrated maternal instincts to get a little exercise.

Flipping to the other end of the spectrum, I met with the random mentee--and it turns out he's an honors student, 4.0 average (the highest we have, since we don't give A+ grades), adult (even with some grey in his beard). He wanted to come to mentoring simply because he wants to squeeze everything he can out of his college experience, wants to take advantage of everything on offer. Very cool. We ended up talking a lot about his struggle with his statistics class, but we also just talked. Nice. And then my own student showed up--and we talked for the remainder of my 75 minute seminar hours block. Delightfully enough, his aim was the same: he wants to get the most out of his time in college--and he said that he recognizes that he's, in his terms, "really a moron" (not at all true), and he wants to exercise his brain and become more intelligent. OK, I said. Here's what you do: 1. stay in the generic liberal arts degree and experience that full diversity of academic disciplines and 2. read. Read a lot. Read anything that challenges you to think, to look up words, to go back over and reread. But read, read, read. (The five keys to academic success being, after all, read, pay attention to detail, read, pay attention to detail, and read. Oh, and work through frustration. Six keys.)

I went from those invigorating conversations to the 101--and they did better in their groups than they've done before now. When I turned it over to class conversation, it all fell a bit flat, but they were thinking in their groups--and talking about the actual topic, which was great. Baby steps, but maybe the class can finally get off the ground a bit.

So, all in all, it was one of those days when I had some doubts about my irrevocable decision to retire, moments of feeling, "Do I really want to leave that behind?" and "I can still do this; I have the energy." And then I come back to my office and, after the energy of working with the students and having some modicum of success wears off, I feel just how depleted my energy stores actually are. I know I can build them up again--but not quickly or easily. And in Advisement, I spent a good chunk of time talking to one of the advisers who is also retiring: she's freaking out about "what will I do with myself if I don't have work to go to?" and I'm freaking about "how will I pay my rent and afford car payments?" But in letting her know why I do not have the "what will I do with myself" worry, I realized again how much I am looking forward to the adventure of exploring possibilities, all the things I could potentially do once I am free of the obligations of teaching. Oh, yeah: and no alarm clock. I'm not sure I can put a dollar amount on that one, but it's weighing big in the emotional side of the calculations.

I have frittered away some time since getting back to the office looking for the perfect video to show my students on Monday and Tuesday--and sending an email to AV services to make sure I can, in fact, show the video on Monday (the computer in that room was in some configuration that wouldn't allow me to log on--so I couldn't do a test run to see if I can also get audio through the projector thingy). The AV folks are generally great; I'm sure they'll help me out on Monday. If not, well, I'll tap dance or something.

Now, however, I really do have to sort through what's going in the wheelie pack and toddle off for my usual Wednesday evening appointment. I don't know if I'll post to the blog between now and Monday, but one never knows. Stay tuned for more exciting developments.