Nearly over
Well, the first week is nearly over.
I have never proclaimed myself an excellent night driver. And so, after a hair-raising trip down Brownfield at dusk, I've decided that on my night class days, I'll just take Indiana home. They will already be long days, and I will be tired from them. Why needlessly complicate things?
Satalite 2 is not as far away, but is just as lonely after hours as S1. There's this big stretch of parking lot, but instead of being truly in the middle of nowhere, you get to see cars zipping past on their way to what is, in the mindset of the weary, home. The cars would make it much less lonely, except for the rusty windmill-like things on top of the construction taking place right next to the lot. There's the scree scree of old westerns, but without the saloon signs. The wind keeps them going at that nice tempo that screams "there's a showdown three minutes from now, get ready for it."
And the night bus is both a nicer experience than the regular one and a drearier one. See, there are many seats on the regular bus. Hard seats. Crammed close together. And usually, somewhat filled with people. The night bus is not even a third of the size, and has plush, cushioned seats with seat belts. But the experience is a much colder one, and there is no sense of comraderie with the driver, since you are by force at the back of the bus, where the driver is ... obviously not.
The fiction class will be fun, I think. Not a bad crowd, and not a bad author to be studying. Thankfully, he is nothing like the "Russian greats," whose work may be classic, but is in no way loved by this blogger.
Translation will go ... kind of well, I guess. Still not sure what's up with that one, but give it a week or two. I think I may grow to enjoy it, as it also features a great crowd and a somewhat interesting (I think) reading list.
Tomorrow is the last class to experience, and the last day of my first week. Wave flags.
[a break while I feed the gluttons]
Teaching went well, for those of you who are interested. If I haven't already waxed poetic about it, I'll do so here in one regard only. That second class. The one from 330 to 450. It's a doozy. I've always hated taking classes then. I'm tired from a day's worth of whatever, I'm hungry and thinking of dinner, I want to be home and comfortable, and I am certainly not in a state conducive to learning. In those classes, I was helpless against the desire to slump in the back and doodle to keep my eyes open. No matter the subject matter.
Well, I'm facing a class of these students who feel that or worse. And I feel that or worse. The difference is, I am now understanding, that they are permitted--no, expected--to behave like exhausted apathetic students, while I am held to the standard of bubbly, engaging, life- and energy-filled imparter of knowledge. For crying out loud. I need a nap during that class. I've no idea how to keep students engaged when I'm practically nodding off at the front of the room.
All that said, however, I only had one student fall asleep, and I woke him up to come demonstrate for the class. He seemed amused by it. They were probably just jittery from the first day of college, but still. I consider it quite an achievement to have kept so many eyes open and focused on my for 80 solid minutes (okay, I broke at 70, because my tongue would keep no more words straight).
We'll see how that goes for the rest of the semester. I envision a shorter class broken into two parts with a break for snacks, walks, and jumping jacks in between. I'll be doing the jumping jacks right along with them.
Well, more reading for tomorrow morning's class, and then I'm to bed. There's no sense in wasting the opportunity for good long sleep. Not while that opportunity is hanging around at the door.
Snag it, I say. Snag the opportunity and smuggle it away in your backpack.
Love and Peace
I have never proclaimed myself an excellent night driver. And so, after a hair-raising trip down Brownfield at dusk, I've decided that on my night class days, I'll just take Indiana home. They will already be long days, and I will be tired from them. Why needlessly complicate things?
Satalite 2 is not as far away, but is just as lonely after hours as S1. There's this big stretch of parking lot, but instead of being truly in the middle of nowhere, you get to see cars zipping past on their way to what is, in the mindset of the weary, home. The cars would make it much less lonely, except for the rusty windmill-like things on top of the construction taking place right next to the lot. There's the scree scree of old westerns, but without the saloon signs. The wind keeps them going at that nice tempo that screams "there's a showdown three minutes from now, get ready for it."
And the night bus is both a nicer experience than the regular one and a drearier one. See, there are many seats on the regular bus. Hard seats. Crammed close together. And usually, somewhat filled with people. The night bus is not even a third of the size, and has plush, cushioned seats with seat belts. But the experience is a much colder one, and there is no sense of comraderie with the driver, since you are by force at the back of the bus, where the driver is ... obviously not.
The fiction class will be fun, I think. Not a bad crowd, and not a bad author to be studying. Thankfully, he is nothing like the "Russian greats," whose work may be classic, but is in no way loved by this blogger.
Translation will go ... kind of well, I guess. Still not sure what's up with that one, but give it a week or two. I think I may grow to enjoy it, as it also features a great crowd and a somewhat interesting (I think) reading list.
Tomorrow is the last class to experience, and the last day of my first week. Wave flags.
[a break while I feed the gluttons]
Teaching went well, for those of you who are interested. If I haven't already waxed poetic about it, I'll do so here in one regard only. That second class. The one from 330 to 450. It's a doozy. I've always hated taking classes then. I'm tired from a day's worth of whatever, I'm hungry and thinking of dinner, I want to be home and comfortable, and I am certainly not in a state conducive to learning. In those classes, I was helpless against the desire to slump in the back and doodle to keep my eyes open. No matter the subject matter.
Well, I'm facing a class of these students who feel that or worse. And I feel that or worse. The difference is, I am now understanding, that they are permitted--no, expected--to behave like exhausted apathetic students, while I am held to the standard of bubbly, engaging, life- and energy-filled imparter of knowledge. For crying out loud. I need a nap during that class. I've no idea how to keep students engaged when I'm practically nodding off at the front of the room.
All that said, however, I only had one student fall asleep, and I woke him up to come demonstrate for the class. He seemed amused by it. They were probably just jittery from the first day of college, but still. I consider it quite an achievement to have kept so many eyes open and focused on my for 80 solid minutes (okay, I broke at 70, because my tongue would keep no more words straight).
We'll see how that goes for the rest of the semester. I envision a shorter class broken into two parts with a break for snacks, walks, and jumping jacks in between. I'll be doing the jumping jacks right along with them.
Well, more reading for tomorrow morning's class, and then I'm to bed. There's no sense in wasting the opportunity for good long sleep. Not while that opportunity is hanging around at the door.
Snag it, I say. Snag the opportunity and smuggle it away in your backpack.
Love and Peace
posted by Rehkmira @ 20:32
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home