On the Responsibility of Teaching

This is going to be a crazy semester, with two new classes, a couple old ones, and the college’s accreditation report to edit. For weeks, potential blog entries have formed in my mind, but they’re never finished. I don’t see much time for other things this semester: not writing stories, not keeping a blog – not even going to the mountains (or at least, not very often).

What I do see, having spent yesterday catching up on the first week-and-a-half’s grading, is the responsibility involved with teaching.

I chose the World Literature class because that subject is “my thing.” I did my MA thesis, after all, on two women writing about Africa – one white, one black. I’ve also traveled.

But World Lit II includes the whole world, from the 1600s on. That’s a lot of literature. Nearly 30 enthusiastic students – smart, mature, many of them better informed on some subjects than I am – are waiting to learn not only postcolonial theory, but the mysteries of the Enlightenment and the conquest of Mexico. Not to mention the history of China. How can I possibly do them justice?

At the other end of the spectrum, more than 25 anxious students are hoping my Student Success class will magically lead to their success in college (and life). Can I really help them? Yes, I’ve done the On Course training. Yes, I have the textbook. But will it really work? I’ve just finished reading their introductory essays – many see this class as their last chance. I can only hope to somehow help them succeed where they’ve failed before.

If I spent the whole semester teaching and editing, skipping my mountains, would I succeed with these classes? (Without the mountains, would I survive at all?) But of course, I will go hiking and snowshoeing – that’s what keeps me sane.

And somehow, the classes will work. They always do, I tell myself (wanting to believe it).

So, time to get back to work – back to Tartuffe and the 1600s. Somehow, it will all come together.