I got up this morning feeling so low. So much so that I wanted to curl up with a copy of The Bell Jar and a bottle of Ambien. I resisted. I realized I had forgotten to take my diet pill and was in withdrawal.
--A text I sent to a friend on 02/27/2011.
It's March. It's a sunny day. It's 51F outside and there are pea green and pink blooms everywhere. I will teach the niños later and make a final exam for my night class. Giving this exam will make up for the tedium, since this is the last class in a series of eight. Whenever I agree to teach these mini-sessions, I feel like I'm cheating. I literally go through an entire semester's worth of material in 6 classes. The students are older,generally, and have their own families, jobs, drama, boredom, ailments...lives. I don't fool myself in believing that the majority of these students are enrolled for the love of learning. They are simply trying to get the class out of the way. I will say that some are truly dedicated at first. By class 4, however, they are exhausted. THEN the family issues, and the illnesses begin to crop up. Occasionally, I will have a younger student miss two classes in a row. Some bring notes from doctors, and have contacted me as well as spoken with classmates. Some don't care. This last group is one of my favorite. Their simple lack of concern for their own academic well-being astonishes me. I have a student now who has missed 3 out of 7 classes, and been late to all but one attended. The lateness, I can forgive. I tend to forgive tardiness, since I have been/am/will be guilty of it. I always go over material in various ways, thereby repeating the lecture. I have modeled my class as a safe place for the tardy student.
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