I'm used to freaking out, and I suppose much of what we do in this profession is at the crossroads of fight or flight. I typically choose to fight, but flapping my wings to another universe has entered my mind a lot more often than usual these last two weeks. Why? In addition to not having a break (sick), not seeing family (still distraught) and getting ready for another semester (ugh), I've been teaching a 15-week course in two weeks.
And I'm getting it done. And the students are going crazy. And I'm wondering about the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. And I know that when they finish (which they will), the will say, "How the heck did we get so much accomplished in just eight classes?"
Um, backwards design. Strategic teaching. Management. And insanity on all of our parts. I think what is most troublesome is that students pay for this work and some love to tease me on how much they pay so that I can torcher them. I assure them that the economical model isn't benefiting me on an adjunct's salary they pay for the course. I'm a cog for profit in this higher education game.
But I love teaching. Each and every second of this time when I've wanted to throw in the towel, I sort of smirk knowing how much satisfaction I feel when the work comes in and I am seeing they are doing miraculously given the obstacles we're all facing.
Granted, there's bound to be breakdowns this week and I imagine a few incompletes and extensions will need to be granted (it's true of 15-week courses, too).
But they got this. We got this. We have no other choice.
Meanwhile, I'm sure dancing elephants, cycling monkeys, and a few chainsaws will be added to my circus this week. And all I can do is juggle in all the spaces at once.
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