Story 2/100

That Book

I submitted my grades and felt odd about it this time.  Not sure why.  Well I do know why but there’s nothing I can do about it now.  They were sent.  I clicked “OK”.  So I have to move on, yeah yeah…  The fallout, how bad will it be this time?  I always think of it that way, “fallout”, the students that will object to their grade, their final mark no matter how much I prove and justify and explain what I gave them.  But it’s done.  And I don’t know why I say ‘submitted’, I’m not waiting for approval from anyone.  They’re done.  They’ve ben graded.  But I shouldn’t be in this mind, I should be in theirs, what it’s like to be a student.  I remember, much as some of them think I don’t, or can’t.. the student’s story and how stressful it is, waiting for your grades, emailing the professor to see what they got and how they did, “Just wanted to know what you thought of my final paper”,  a student earlier emailed me.  And I feel like I’m doing something wrong but I know in my heart of hearts’ hearts I’m not so I have to divide and dilute my attention on this grade thing.  But this was a rough semester for me, an adjunct, three campuses and two of them far away, four classes total (and I’m sure you just felt lost in that, I did all semester).  Someone should submit something to me, preferably a full-time position.  But that won’t happen, and I don’t want to be like a student, in the student’s position, under those full-timer pigs and whomever does the hiring.  This whole adjunct thing affects my teaching and grading, and by not so extended an extension, the students.

In a new mind, looking forward to the next term.  The next set of matriculants.  And no commuting.  I won’t look forward to semester’s end, but dread it.