First class done. Student, who happens to be named Emma, said to me, “I feel like we should clap at the end of class or something… It’s like theatre.” More confirmation that this semester will be THE semester for me, that does something, that sends me to the road, lecturing and speaking and… you know my vision. I’m sure other teachers, and I do mean sure, have these days, days were they are more than confident that this is what they’re to be doing. Convinced, convicted, lovingly condemned. I love this feeling, sitting here in the shared adjunct office with another adjunct as she either grades or preps for a class or writes herself a note, something, me here with my thoughts and two hours to collect before my 1A at 5. Need a snack, I think. But what. That means I’m to travel to the cafeteria, go back outside, think more of how to start the 1A. Already know, but I’ll think more. Can never be too prepared for any class, in my not at all humble thinking.
With my first class out of the way, I wonder… what do I do next with them. With the 1A. I should do something crazily different tonight, in my lesson plan. Like what. I could research discussion topics but I don’t need to research. I’m a better teacher than that, I have myself convinced. But am I? Can’t I get better? I ignore this inner-counsel and decide on ‘censorship’. We could take it apart a dozen or two dozen ways. I don’t know, I just need to do something different. I want to keep this reaction to my “teaching” consistent across sections… You know what, I’m going to ask them about their day. Ask them to describe it, assign a theme or “thesis” to the day, or a dominant idea. Wrote that one down, too, in the Composition Book.
Going for a walk.
Back from walk. Short trip to Santa Rosa High, next door to the JC. went to introduce and get a contact. All successful. In the beginning stages of my trek to teach high school English. Yes. Decreed and decided. I’m convicted and more than convinced that this is my next move as an educator. In my career. And not just from adjunct exhaustion. I mean, I guess that’s part of it but I want a new adventure. I want to aid in the change of written scenery for students, coming from high school English and now to college. Be a bridge, provide methods and remedies. I have to move quickly in this trek, this mission, now in its 3rd official day. When I hear students make statements like Emma did this morning, I know I have to be more there for the students, at the JC, yes, but those just before the JC. This is consistent with the dominant vision, and all visions. And I sit here back in the adjunct office and electrically excited fault line of thought. Quaking, quaking… Watching my own performance, and I’ll never tire.