They are recurring.
The start of a semester, the end of a semester, and moments in-between. Usually, it has to do with
- Exams (or tests, assessments, and the like)
Not necessarily in that order.
But the start of a semester is a Crazy Time all of its own. You get a whole new class. Or else you try to figure out which of your students are coming back. Or both. However you look at it, you get a lesser or greater amount of stage fright. It doesn’t matter what you’re teaching, what level, what kind of school — you get it. Every. Single. Time.
That’s not all of course. There’s always snafus with registration, and students changing their minds (and it’s a good thing that they can) and overlooked typos in syllabi… And hey, professors occasionally change their minds too, but we kind of try to build this into our syllabi.
Mind you, I am NOT complaining. Because I can devise the syllabus I want. I have very few guidelines for my courses. As long as I have a way to assess the students’ progress, there’s no one to tell me whether I have to make this test multiple choice, or that test 37 (not 36!) minutes long.
That’s because I teach at the college level. And every time I have to look over some assignment, I feel blessed that I was never meant to teach at the primary or secondary level. Because we may be professors, but those people are Teachers. With a super-capital T.
Allow me to take my hat off to my friends who Teach. And to raise my glass to them. And to send them cyber-hugs. And in general to express my gratitude.
Because I couldn’t.
Still, while the crazy of the semester-start sorts itself out, some other things take second place for a while. And you realize that whether it’s your own children, your students, or your projects (or even your pets), there’s always someone or something in your life competing for first place. And you’re the referee. And the competitors are armed.
And then there’s your mind telling you you’d rather have this first in queue rather than that — and usually not the right things, or in the most efficient, and definitely not the most comfortable or soothing manner or order.
Certainly not if you’re a creative person.
That’s why you have evenings and weekends.
When your Muse can visit you. And you can let her in. And share a drink with her.
So if you want to know what happens when She comes and we hang out, take a risk and sign up for the Otter’s newsletter. It won’t be obnoxious — it probably won’t be very frequent at first. But you’ll get some news and deets that are reserved to the selected few.