So. Having decided to make my writing students blog throughout the semester, it seems only right I should take the plunge in myself. The proper, academic, okay-for-students-to-read posts can go somewhere else. This space is mine, apart from them. It's a bit strange, parcelling myself out this way, but if I haven't been doing this in writing, I've been doing it nearly all the time now that I've started this new (first) job. I like my work... often... but I seem to have lost myself somewhere in the process. I feel like I'm play-acting much of the day, and these parts I find myself playing with my colleagues and with my students can be quite a lot to keep up. Sometimes I feel closer in sentiment to some of my students than I do with my department's faculty. I'm young enough I still get mistaken for a student, by students, faculty, maintainence people. I become nostalgic about my own years in college that ended seven years ago now when I see some of the majors light up in the classroom or when I see them together outside of the classroom, up to some thing or other. Other times, especially with my first-year writers, I find myself disappointed and even a bit shocked at how little knowledge, curiousity or will they bring into class with them. Last week I wented the Abu-Ghraib scandal in relation to some happenings in this novel I'm teaching, and at least 2 of the students (maybe more) had no idea what I was talking about. "Aboo-what?" Gazuntite.
At any rate, it's gotten harder and harder to hear my own voice in my head. It's gotten harder to slow down. I need to stop these frantic movements of body and mind. I need more time to just listen and to hear myself think.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
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