Missing the Classroom

Today I have a job interview. Praise Jesus. I’m now registered to be a substitute teacher, but as my mother pointed out to me on the phone, “You’re a leader. You like to see results. You’re not the babysitting kind.” I of course took the praise and am glad I called  my mother. It’s always good to feel confident in an interview, especially when I’m sure I’m going to hear at least once, “You’re quite young.”

While I don’t mind substitute teaching, it is a paycheck afterall, that is all it is. I have never been good at jobs that just pay the bills. I was the WORST waitress ever. In the history of  waitresses. When I’m teaching, although it is hard work, I do love nearly every moment of it. I will admit when I taught high school I didn’t love all the in-service meetings, I didn’t love pushy students and parents, and I didn’t love turning in lesson plans once a week. I wasn’t a huge fan of grading papers, but there are worse things about teaching, to be frank.

Since I recently moved and am working on my thesis hours I’ve been job hunting like a maniac and you know what? I miss being in the classroom as both teacher and student. I miss not having a list of books to buy that I know I’ll get to discuss with my classmates. I miss my smart professors who find ways to shed light on concepts and themes so dark. But I also really miss being the teacher.

I was telling my boyfriend the other day how much I miss being in the classroom. I should mention this was during winter break, maybe a week and half after the semester ended. I’m an addict. I love my students, even the annoying ones. I don’t miss the annoying ones a lot, but usually they are the students that provide the best conversation starters.

The interview is to teach at a high school and last night I was prepping, by looking at some commonly asked interview questions; I noticed that one of the questions was about my teaching portfolio.

I freaked. Stephan Colbert was almost over, I was tired. I scrambled for another two hours getting together the documents that I now need to take to Staples to get put into a nice folder with tabs. While gathering these documents I thought it would be a nice touch to add some of the essays my high school students wrote my first year teaching. I asked them the question, “What will you miss most about this class?” And while there were a lot of answers that felt fake, I did make the assignment a completion grade, and told them that they could say they hated the class, didn’t learn anything, and thought I was a poo poo head, if of course they backed it up with evidence.

Some of them did say mean things, but it’s a free country and I was grateful they felt comfortable and confident enough to be honest.

A good portion of them wrote some of the most lovely things and I would like to share this one quote with you.

“I will miss the teacher and hearing her crazy jokes. I really never met a real geek until I got in this class. No offense but you was mean sometimes when we talked over you.”

How can you not love teaching when students say things like this?

I hope this afternoon I get the opportunity to get back in there with the kids. Lord knows I miss them and I haven’t even met them yet.

Okay I lied…

I thought I wasn’t going to write but I really needed a warm up this morning. I started to write and I have a page of crossed out sentences, which will end up in the recycling bin. Yesterday was a very productive day and today needs to be as well. Still, I’m getting a bit nervous about this thesis. While, I’m confident that with some long nights and days I’ll be able to bang out the pages, I’m super worried that it sucks.

Is this normal? To hate such a massive work. I’ve never worked on anything this big before, and as I was opening up the first chunk I realized, it’s not as big as I thought it was. I don’t know if this means I’m going to be doing a lot of revision (which is highly likely) or if I need add some more significant sub-plots.

I’ve been thinking a lot about subplots lately. I’m trying to do a lot of novel-reading since I’m writing one. I look very closely at structure since I think this is one of my weaknesses. I know what I want the major story to be about, but I never realized how important subplots were until I started to really focus on the structure of published novels. Successful novels both critically and commercially.

While, right now, my major focus is getting that main plot out, I know I’m going to have to add some more.

Every morning, when I open up the pages of this thesis on my computer I think about it the project and how much time I’ve devoted to it, and it freaks me out. I need to get over this because I’m making this project bigger than it actually is. I need to look at it for what it is: a story that needs to be told. I also need to just tell it. The rest of it will come. It will come.

Well, I feel warmed up. Happy writing!

Coursework: Check!

So, I’m done. I have written my last academic paper for graduate school. It felt so good walking over to my professor’s office to turn it in. Of course he wasn’t there, so I put it in his mailbox and it was like a release. I wanted to yell and shout: I’M DONE!

In case I forgot to mention it, my program is a three year program and when I graduate in spring I’ll have completed in it a record two year period. While, I’m an overly competitive person, I didn’t rush through the program because I want to be the first M.F.A. to finish in two years; instead I’m trying to finish it so I can move on.

Living like a grad student is fun for like a year, but when you’ve had a real paycheck then a get a grad student stipend its a tough adjustment. Plus, I promised myself that I wouldn’t get married until I had at least a masters degree and well, I’m ready to at least start planning  a wedding. I’m going to have wait until my boyfriend proposes, and of course I’ll keep you all posted on that. I’m so ready though. It’s such motivation to get my work done. So are those applications to be a professor.

While my thesis is still yet to be completed, right now all I can think is that I’m done writing papers. I finally get to write my fiction. No more excuses.

I am DONE!

So So So Close

Did I mention I’m moving? I can’t remember and I’m too lazy to look through my past posts to check. I’m sure I’ve mentioned it because it’s only been on my mind since I started grad school. I know I’ve mentioned the four-year long distance relationship.

When I started grad school I promised my boyfriend that I would do the program as fast as I could. Immediately I asked my advisor if I could do my thesis hours away. When it was confirmed that I didn’t have to live in town and could write away from my university I was set. I ploughed through my courses and well, here we are at the end of my final semester of course work.

While my program is supposed to be three years, it can definitely be completed in two. With summers and loading up on classes, it’s doable. It’s not easy, but if it was easy then everyone would do it, right? The major issue I’m having this semester isn’t my classes, or teaching, or even the long distance. It’s my thesis.

I stupidly decided I wanted to write my first novel for my thesis. I also decided it would be a good idea to move, and hunt for jobs. My rough draft is due, the latest January 1st. I’m hoping I can bang it out before then, but with everything that is going on, I’m concerned. My goal is to graduate this spring, but I would be okay with myself if I had to push it to summer. Though, I didn’t graduate from undergrad in spring, and there is something magical about graduating in the spring, I think. All my friends graduated in spring and it’s so exciting, and everything is new, the leaves, the flowers, the moon. It’s fantastic. I’d like to participate in a spring graduation. Also, my youngest sister is graduating from high school this spring, and I think it would be so fun to have two spring graduates hanging out the house.

Okay, back to moving. Come mid-December I’ll no longer be in a long distance relationship. It’s crazy.

I was talking to my boyfriend about this recently and he pointed out that he won’t be excited until I’m living there. He reminded me that a few days after I move in I have to drive back home in order to attend a wedding and be with my family for Christmas. Then he’ll be excited because I’ll be back for New Years.

Oh, and he forgot to mention that I’ll hopefully be attending the MLA convention in Philadelphia for an interview. If you want incentive to finish a thesis and graduate apply for a job as a professor that requires a masters, so you have to finish it in order to work. HA!

I have to say the moving aspect of my life has taken over. I’m obsessed. I go on the Rooms to Go website daily and Ikea and Target just to see what furniture sales and options are available. I’m so eager to move I’ve already set up my electricity and have been browsing internet and cable packages.

While decorating is exciting that is not what I’m stoked about. It’s knowing that in roughly a month I’ll be able to see my boyfriend everyday if I want to. That I won’t have to have anymore lengthy phone conversations, that I’ll actually get to cook for him and and and and! go on dates! No more movies alone EVER AGAIN! ooooh we’ll even get to do normal couple things like hang out with friends together, and watch tv together. Hell, we’re just going to be together. I can’t wait. I can’t wait.

But I must focus. Thesis first. Excited second.

This upcoming weekend my boyfriend is coming for a visit and it’s the last visit we’re going to have as a long distance couple, and after four years of being apart, and many trips of meeting up in different places, and visiting each other. It feels so good to know it’s the last one. While we’ve had some great times, it’s feels really really really good to know it’s the last visit.

I must remember to focus. Think. Thesis.

Kiss my Ass, Freshman.

As Thanksgiving approaches so do the deadlines. I just finished leafing through my students final paper rough drafts and you know what kind of crap they are pulling. Sentences like, “I’m only writing this sentence so that she doesn’t say anything.” Really students? Really little freshman? You have got to be kidding me. 

As I stood at the front of the classroom reading the papers, I stopped to read this specific sentence aloud; a reminder– I’m not as dumb as I look. In the three years I’ve been teaching my students have done this a few times. I always catch them and I always call them out on it. I find it incredibly rude. Where do they get off? It is clearly their egos needing some stroking, look at how I pulled one over Ms. ,Mr., or Professor [insert name here]. Yes, aren’t you the slick little student.

Also, I noticed today as I stood in front of  the class, the large quantities of apathy taking up space in the classroom. I was briefly giving comments on the small errors and issues I noticed the class had on their papers and they ignored me. It was as if I wasn’t even standing up there. Really? Of course, your papers are perfect. How could I  have made such an error in suggesting some of your work needs improvement?  Oops my bad.

I reminded them that I could easily just stop, cancel my office hours, and not help them. It was fine with me. They aren’t the only ones who are “busy” and “have problems.”  No, we all do. We’re all students struggling to get to the end of the semester. Kiss my ass, Freshman.

This is the first time I’ve noticed my students not caring about my comments. Usually when I stand up to teach they are there with me. They hunger for my advice. They need more and more of it.  What is happening? Have they given up their goals of getting an A?  Frankly, I don’t really care if they don’t want A’s. What is it to me? If they don’t care, then hell, neither do I.

As much as I love teaching, and while I know I write a lot about students and how annoying they are, I really do love it. More times than not, I have a great time teaching. Both of my sections have great students who make me laugh and they take the time to show they care by attending my office hours. In general, they are good kids. The issue, I think, isn’t the actual students. It’s the month of November and all those damn Christmas commercials.

There is still a month and change for them to get through and all they are thinking about is the holidays. And, I hate to admit this, I’m guilty too. I’m ready to move, to eat lots of delicious Italian holiday food, and celebrate the new year. But, I’m still getting the work done, I’m focused.

Frankly, I wish the semester would come to an end already so I can get a new batch of students, a new job and start the new year.

Job Hunt Update

I applied for one job via the MLA job list. I worked on the cover letter and my cv for a week or two with help from my thesis chair. I had sent the letter to another professor of mine and didn’t receive criticism back until after I mailed it. The professor who emailed me back after I’d sent the letter was very very critical and after my thesis chair told me to stop working on it and send it already I was a bit worried. Oh well.

I’ve decided not to stress about it because on top of the other shit that is going on in my life stressing out about something I can’t control is not going to make the situation any better. Though, I will say, my heart was beating pretty hard when I handed it over to the post office worker.

The job doesn’t start until August 2010 so I need to chill out about it. I am also applying for jobs for December for when I move. No more GTAing (which I think could be both good and bad). That is also quite stressful. I applied for two language arts teacher positions (middle school). I will say while I would take any job right now, I’m not stoked about middle school. I’ve taught 9th grade and hated them. I would imagine 6th, 7th and 8th graders are not any more loveable.  I have faith that God is looking out for me and won’t let me get myself into a crappy situation. Regardless, teaching any grade will pay my rent so I’ll take what I can get. Who knows, I may love the little guys.

I’ll briefly update the “life” situation as soon as I have some time to construct the sentences.

 

 

Heavy Wet Eyes and a Punch in the Chest

I counted the days to my moving to the same zip code as my boyfriend and it’s 64 days. SIXTY FOUR! I can’t decide if I’m okay with it, or if when I counted the days I was hoping it would be less. When I got fifty, I have to admit I was so disappointed. I thought I’d count and it would be like 40 days, but instead it’s almost a month more.

With the semester reaching a climax work is piling up around me and having not seen my love for a month (which doesn’t seem long saying it out, but I’m so over it) and knowing it’s going to be another month before I see him is really killing me. We have a rule where we don’t say “I miss you” to each other because it’s not healthy to dwell and isn’t it obvious that we miss each other. If we didn’t miss each other something would be wrong. And while he hasn’t said “I miss you” flat out, he has hinted at some emotion regarding my absence in his life. Recently he texted me randomly during his work day and told me he was usually okay waiting but he didn’t want to wait to see me, then added, “I want to see you now.”

Tell me about.

Today, when I looked at my planner and see presentations, screenplays, papers, cover letters, and a thesis needing to be completed, it seems like all those things are even more difficult to complete because my chest feels like it’s caving, my ribs can’t hold in the pain any longer. I’m going to implode.

I know I have to think about these things like a relay race. Every task completed is one step closer to being able to cook dinner for him or go on a date. A date! with him.

There is so obviously a whole in my chest. I can do it though. I will survive.

p.s. I hope he doesn’t read this, cause then I’ll be a pinch embarrassed. 

p.p.s. I love him–a lot.

Monday Morning Magic (oh I just love alliteration in the morning)

As much as people hate Mondays, I have to stay I’m starting to love them. They are the fresh start to the week, the get-up-and-do-it! day. I woke up with minimal snoozing today, and feel ready to kick some serious ass. We’re talking PRO-DUC-TIVE! I wish I could wake up like this every morning.

If you’re down and out because it’s Monday, don’t be. Change your frame of mind, be stoked. I like to think of Monday as the day that determines how your week will go. I’ve decided today is going to a great day filled with productivity which will propel this week into getting part one of my novel/thesis done.

Yes I can!

So you want to be a racist?

So, I was grading papers this evening, and for the first time in my teaching life I came across a paper that I’m going to label as “racist.” It is important to note that the students had to read an article suggesting that American colleges and universities have issues with diversity and community. The students were asked to propose a solution to this or prove that the author was incorrect and that there was no issue. Overall the papers were not that great, but when I came across the “racist” one I was forced to stop in my tracks.

First of all, the paper was not a good one. The quality of writing was not up to the level that I expect my students to write at. It was choppy and needed a lot of work with argument, thesis, and organization. That being said, the student then had a paragraph that had some pretty racist comments. The student was discussing segregation and how it wasn’t something society accepted, but it made sense for people to stick with their own kind. This was always qualified by the student suggesting that some groups made white people uncomfortable because of how they were different.  The student also wrote how people in one race only exposed to their own race would be uncomfortable around people different from them and would only communicate with their own race because of their comfort level. I’m paraphrasing of course but I think you get the picture. I would love to post the paragraph up here but I like my job, and would like to keep it.

I do not by any means want to make excuses for this student, but is it possible that maybe this student trying to say that people mingle with people they feel they already have a connection to, a similar background? Is it possible that the student is just using this paragraph as an example of that? 

To be honest, I don’t think the student realizes what they are doing. Or maybe I want to believe they don’t realize it. Think about it. This is this student’s first college English paper. If this student isn’t the great communicator, isn’t it possible that this is a mistake or should I say miscommunication, that happened late at night after trying to pump pages out?  

I’m trying to decide if I should use this paragraph as example when I’m teaching. I’m concerned, first and foremost, the student will be highly offended. I’m also worried that it will lead to a blowout in the classroom where students start spouting off and possibly over reacting.

Currently, I’m at quite a loss for words. Paper grading really takes it out of me.

A Nightly Inspiration

I don’t know how often this happens to you, but it happens to me regularly. I’m just about to enter dreamland and it hits me, a great sentence. A poem. A story idea.

I used to roll over and ignore it. I don’t do that anymore. Convinced I’d remember in the morning I let the ideas leave me, gone forever. Waking up not even being close to remembering. So now I keep a pad and pen next to my lamp so I can quickly jot down my idea and then fall asleep in peace.  I’ve also started documenting my dreams (a suggestion from my boyfriend, who I believe was so sick of me telling him about the clouds and pirates and alligators). I’m currently working on a short story that was inspired by a dream/nightmare.

The following is a poem that came to me last night. I’d love to make it better but I’m not sure what to do with it. Since I’m not in any workshops this semester I’d love any and all suggestions. Seriously. I want to know what you all think (yes, even if you think a donkey could write a better poem).

Thanks in advance.

 

An Existentialist No More

(copyright http://www.onemeanmfa.wordpress.com)

 

I won’t just be

I’ll be

            Panache

I’ll be

            Pizzazz

I’ll be

            a Punch

or

plain and Human

accept the purpose.

 

Just

Breathing

Living

Being

Not for me

I’ll soak in the breeze

Swallow salt water

Do Jumping Jacks

Procreate

 

You take Your theory

I

Am better than that.

I’ll be:

A

    L

       I

         V

            E.

 

(copyright www.onemeanmfa.wordpress.com)

 

Thoughts? Criticism?