Tag Archives: school

First Day of School!

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The first day of school, no matter how many times I experience it (and at this point in my life and with my level of education, trust me, it’s a LOT), is never less exciting.

I’ve found that many of the same things which got me going as a student also get me going as a teacher.  Will I like my new class/classes?  What kinds of exciting challenges does the semester have in store?  Where will be my habitual sitting place so as to exude the proper air of interest without creepy slobbering over-engagement?

What should I wear?  What’s the first thing I should say?  Every semester, I’m allotted the golden opportunity to leave yet another first impression.  These people will, over the course of the next several months, becoming incredibly important in my life and with whom I will (with any luck) leave some kind of impression.  It’s absolutely vital that they take away from that first moment some kind of essence of who I am and what they’re about to get.

My room.

My room.

I’ve always seen a kind of magic in the first day.  Like you can somehow use it to gaze into the murky depths of the future and see what kind of semester you’re in for.  My experience over the years has been mixed with this tactic, but I’ve never stopped trying and today will be no exception.  Looking around the room, I will absolutely attempt to glean the nature of the students before me and what kind of challenges we will face together.

Another great thing about teaching is that I know this will never work.  At some point this semester (and probably at several points this semester), my students will throw me something that I absolutely could not have seen coming.  Some curve ball or complication, some question or concern, something I had never thought of before.  Solving this problem will be a learning experience for all of us, and this is part of why I love my job so very much.

The moral of the story is this: I love school.  If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be here.  Teaching excites me, learning makes me feel alive, and the exhilaration of the classroom just hasn’t gotten old.  If I can instill one thing and one thing only into my students during any given semester, it would be my love of learning things.  I suffer under no delusions about teaching classrooms full of future Broadway stars, and though I do firmly believe in the infinite potential of my students, I also recognize that most of them are probably taking my class for a liberal arts credit.  As such, it’s important to me to leave them with skills that they will use no matter what they choose to do with their lives.  To love learning is one of the greatest gifts I could give them.

Dipping Toes in the Shallow End

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This morning, despite the urgings of my ever-loving bed, I got up.  I went and sat at my desk.  I opened a book.  I read assigned pages.  I took notes on it.  I thought about what I was reading.

When I was done with that, I saved the PDFs of this week’s reading assignment to my dropbox and opened that on my ipad.  I read it.  I took notes.  I thought about it, in turn.

When I was done with that, I cracked my script.  I reviewed some scenes, did some text work, highlighted and underlined some things, and took some marginalia notes on that.

When I was done with that, I sent a few e-mails and took care of some long-awaited administrative business that I really couldn’t start the semester without doing.

Now that I’m done with that, I think I’m going to go relax on the couch for a good long time.  Break may be winding down but it’s not officially over until Wednesday.

Although I will say this: despite the fact that having absolutely nothing to do on a given day is a rare luxury (and one I don’t generally afford myself, even during breaktime), having something one must do on a given day certainly works to relieve my anxiety about things I can’t really do anything about in this moment anyway.  Every time I so much as think the word “comps”, the bottom drops out of my stomach and I get an overwhelming feeling of

Ah yes. My love. My Preeeeciousssss.

Ah yes. My love. My Preeeeciousssss.

vertigo.  Whenever I glance at my German (a necessary obstacle before I even get to my comps), I find a little demon sitting on my shoulder whispering to me “DU KANNST ES NICHT!”  Somehow, hitting deadlines that are absolutely within my control and things that I know I am capable of doing alleviates this stress.

I will kill that demon.  He’s not long for this world.  I just need to work up some courage first.  It’s probably going to come in liquid form; I’m deep in the torrid thralls of a love affair with the cappuccino machine my folks gifted me with for Christmas.  Let me tell you, it’s done wonders to alter my outlook on life.

Pre-School Jitters

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Ah September.  A month of new beginnings, crisp wind, autumn colors, the glorious goodbye to being woken by the sounds of screaming camp children outside my window.

September?  SEPTEMBER!?  Uh…. Right…. School’s starting soon.  Like… next week soon.  Like… Wednesday soon which isn’t even a whole week away.  I have pre-homework to do.  I have to make sure I’m mentally prepared.  I have to go school supply shopping!

I’ve been to campus several times at this juncture, both for business and to walk around (and yes, after Tuesday’s kerfluffle I do finally have ID and Parking Pass in hand).  I have ordered my books (thank you, Amazon!).  I have begun to read the articles for my first class.  I have started to put together correspondence between my MA program and my PhD program to ensure that I receive cross-credit for language exams.  Overall, I’m on the right track.

There was, I must admit, a feeling of vertigo when I first glanced at my booklist.  There have been moments of panic which have extended into long afternoons of panic which have required the liberal application of wine to quell.  There have been the inevitable “am I really doing this?” bouts of squeamishness which were pleasant surprises despite their nauseous undertones.

Through all of this, I have come to one very important conclusion: this is going to be a great deal of work.

Oh yes, I was prepared for the concept of work, but the actuality is hitting me fast and hard upside the head much to the chagrin of my clenched and sore jaw muscles.  My long days of leisure are at an end.  This became abundantly clear today when I settled in with the first in my stack of reading and was only able to manage a third of it before my eyes started going numb.

Flash back to Wednesday and a meeting with the Chair of my department.  We went over pleasantries and exchanged your regular sort of questions and answers, as well as registration bookkeeping and the like.  It was then that he cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and set to business.  He reached for a first stack of papers, “Here is the syllabus for my class.  Please have the readings done before you arrive on Friday.”  I nodded.  The syllabus wasn’t horrible, a few pages double-spaced, your standard research paper and oral presentation, it was a little more reading intensive than I was used to but this is the big leagues after all.  “Here,” He said, reaching for a second stack of papers, “Is the current Graduate Handbook for the department.”  It was slightly weightier, but what would you expect from a book made of policies and red tape?  “Here,” He said, reaching for yet another stack, “Is a set of informal guidelines which I have put together for the writing of research papers at the graduate level.”  I nodded with a smirk.  I would surely give this…

paperwork... on my desk. And other things on my desk.

rather weighty document (eighteen pages double-sided single-spaced) a glance through, but I’ve read style guides before.  I’ve also been writing graduate-level papers for two years now.  I wasn’t going to worry about this.  “And here,” He said, reaching for the final stack, “Is your comps list.”  This was the breaking point.  Twenty-four pages, double-sided, single-spaced, with a quid pro quo at the end denoting that we are expected to keep up on contemporary theatre and since no single list can possibly hope to accommodate all new works satisfactorily we should simply know everything.

Induce panic. Oh god oh go we’re all gonna die.  Break out the chocolate.  Someone come rub my tummy and play with my hair.

It wasn’t too late to back out, right?  I wouldn’t be a total failure if I only kinda went for my PhD and gave it my best shot but fell flat on my face doing so?

Actually, yea I would be.  You see, I’m a homo sapien.  I have opposable thumbs.  I’m renowned throughout the animal kingdom for my intellect and ability to overcome obstacles in the face of enormous adversity.  I can’t let a measly little twenty-four-page list of books overcome me.  And if I get that far, I might as well just write the dissertation for fun.  You know.  Just to see if I can do it.  A lark on a Sunday afternoon.

And besides, my business cards are going to look WAY sexier when I can put those letters after my name.  Like… for reals.

A note: despite this flippancy, my reverence for the Academy extends deeply into the heart and soul of my book-nerdish self.  I assure you that my reasons for wishing to acquire this degree extend beyond sexy business cards and a title in front of my name.  But really, what’s life without a certain degree of affability?  If I can’t laugh about this… I may start crying.  And if I start crying, I won’t stop until five to seven years has passed.

Well… my life as I know it has ended.

Goodbye, cruel world.  I’ll see you when I’m done flaggelating with my textbooks.