The Last Semester
This has been my first moment of the semester to really reflect what is happening. I am done. This is it for me and grad school (unless for some awful reason I really do pursue this tech comm degree.) Maybe I just can't stay away from206A or waking up in cold sweats at 4 in the morning because I fear how my lit review will turn out.
Today during my final hour I had with my students I realized that may be the last time I teach; they would be the last class I stand in front of and make snarky comments to. I'm not gonna lie, I almost got weepy...almost. But I did make them stay there a full three minutes longer than need be so I could ramble and not let them leave. That may be the last time I have that power.
It's been a fun trip for the most part. Yeah, there were those first couple months I spent a majority of my time in my bathroom. Yes I had sunken eyes, but I looked better than I had since BC (before college). I celebrated by buying pants. Needless to say they don't fit me anymore.
But we had some good times too. There's the student who won honorable mention in the composition merit awards. He hugged me on the last day of Spring semester 04. I had my share of criers--the post-secondary whose boyfriend threatened to burn down her mother's house, the dental hygenist who I failed for neglecting to turn in a final research paper. The girl with short brown hair who works at the hub right next to the TCF bank? She's mine. So's the one who grew her hair out and got funky glasses and worked in the English office this semester. There's Shera, the hockey player from Canada. And the football player I had to fail because, umm, see previous statement. I also had half the volleyball team and a couple soccer players. Then there's my army girl who told me the first day of class she be missing half of them. And the cheerleader in love with her twin brothers and republicans (*See Smith). Then there's Dylan from first semester. He helped me believe I was capable of teaching students something. We worked hard, but by the end of the semester he had that comma/semicolon thing figured out. I think I saw him working at the tux rental place in the mall. And Kristi from last semester--I still see you at Menards on occasion. I loved how you would just laugh in class, though I think it was often at me and not with me. Oh well.
And while I've made half-attempts at finding another teaching job, I've gotten thin envelope after thin envelope. Not even requests for interviews. If only they knew how much I loved this. How it truly made me a better person. How even now I can cry because I may never get the opportunity to experience this again. But you don't see that on an anonymous sheet of white paper with generic fragmented sentences that are supposed to explain me, explain why I want to do this for the rest of my life.
I need a drink.
Today during my final hour I had with my students I realized that may be the last time I teach; they would be the last class I stand in front of and make snarky comments to. I'm not gonna lie, I almost got weepy...almost. But I did make them stay there a full three minutes longer than need be so I could ramble and not let them leave. That may be the last time I have that power.
It's been a fun trip for the most part. Yeah, there were those first couple months I spent a majority of my time in my bathroom. Yes I had sunken eyes, but I looked better than I had since BC (before college). I celebrated by buying pants. Needless to say they don't fit me anymore.
But we had some good times too. There's the student who won honorable mention in the composition merit awards. He hugged me on the last day of Spring semester 04. I had my share of criers--the post-secondary whose boyfriend threatened to burn down her mother's house, the dental hygenist who I failed for neglecting to turn in a final research paper. The girl with short brown hair who works at the hub right next to the TCF bank? She's mine. So's the one who grew her hair out and got funky glasses and worked in the English office this semester. There's Shera, the hockey player from Canada. And the football player I had to fail because, umm, see previous statement. I also had half the volleyball team and a couple soccer players. Then there's my army girl who told me the first day of class she be missing half of them. And the cheerleader in love with her twin brothers and republicans (*See Smith). Then there's Dylan from first semester. He helped me believe I was capable of teaching students something. We worked hard, but by the end of the semester he had that comma/semicolon thing figured out. I think I saw him working at the tux rental place in the mall. And Kristi from last semester--I still see you at Menards on occasion. I loved how you would just laugh in class, though I think it was often at me and not with me. Oh well.
And while I've made half-attempts at finding another teaching job, I've gotten thin envelope after thin envelope. Not even requests for interviews. If only they knew how much I loved this. How it truly made me a better person. How even now I can cry because I may never get the opportunity to experience this again. But you don't see that on an anonymous sheet of white paper with generic fragmented sentences that are supposed to explain me, explain why I want to do this for the rest of my life.
I need a drink.
posted by KC in Katoland at 6:13 PM
2 Comments:
Oh sweetie. You almost made me cry with you. It's sad when things end, but we go on. Keep trying for those teaching jobs. It'll be difficult to get one right away probably, but adjunct. try several schools, even smaller two year campuses. Don't let strangers tell you that you can't do what you want to do. Keep at it. Good people will always shine. It'll happen.
I know exactly what you mean, Sween. I couldn't help but feel a bit lonely knowing my time at MSU was over. Even though I have an idea of what I want to do next fall, I feel kinda anxious about it.
Anyway, we'll both laugh (along with Professor Smith) at this blog entry and these comments when we have full tenure at Nicoli U.
Prof. Anskov
P.S. Will you team teach Rossetti 101 with me to keep me from rambling? "Love ya"
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