The weight of the world
It is a strange thing to look at the effects of sheer solid pressure on a human being. Over the last few months I have been studying for my comprehensive exams and have, therefore, been reading about 2 book length works a week since around June. The pressure of comps is generally enough to drive the weak to the point of neurosis, but I (smart person that I am) am also teaching 3 classes. Classes 2 and 3 are Teaching Assistantships for Holocaust and Literature so add to my regular reading load an additional book on the Holocaust a week to rile my spirits.
Also, because the holocaust class's reading load is way too much for a gen ed class, nobody reads, so the teaching of those two classes has been like pulling teeth. The other class, freshman comp, is peopled by freshman and to make matters worse, I teach in the dorms, their home. So, I essentially walk into their living room and start lecturing on stuff they couldn't care much about, nor could I really. This is done around dinner time (4:00-5:15) while out the large window, at the ground floor, they watch all their friends heading over to the dining commons. I think if I were in the right frame of mind, I might be able to bring them back to the subject, but I haven't been and so this class has been a pure hell. I supplement my teaching with in-class writing (since I haven't the strength to lecture to people who aren't listening), but this means more grading for me at home while I'm trying to read 3 books a week (one of them being a book on the Holocaust).
To answer what I hope are your questions, I wake up at 5 in the morning and am unable to get back to sleep. I greet each Thursday (my big teaching day) with a palpable dread, and am filled with a feeling that I haven't really had before--a total hatred of teaching and a certain amount of fear of my classroom. Had I the time to consider all this seriously, I think I would be very very depressed, but I always have so much work to do that there isn't time for a reaction--read, fear, dread, go home, try not to drink too much.
Strangely enough, however, I have somehow made it through the giant list of 75 works. I am now at one book, and its not a particularly difficult book. As this list has gone, so too strangely has that other world in which I have dwelled for about 2 months. Seriously, I went into my comp class and had a great time--the other students were gone, replaced by clones that weren't at all a pain in the ass. My Holocaust class wasn't great, but it wasn't dreadful either. I began reading a book that isn't on a list and I love it, it's interesting. I stopped to talk with a professor and actually had an intelligent conversation. I slept last night pretty well, and am today without the sense of urgency that has plagued me since the beginning of August like a lost limb: phantom panic.
Monday after next I actually take the comps. I will be given six questions (2 for each set of 25 works) and from each set I will choose one and write 10-15 pages on the subject. Even writing it brings back a bit of the panic. Wish me well.
Also, because the holocaust class's reading load is way too much for a gen ed class, nobody reads, so the teaching of those two classes has been like pulling teeth. The other class, freshman comp, is peopled by freshman and to make matters worse, I teach in the dorms, their home. So, I essentially walk into their living room and start lecturing on stuff they couldn't care much about, nor could I really. This is done around dinner time (4:00-5:15) while out the large window, at the ground floor, they watch all their friends heading over to the dining commons. I think if I were in the right frame of mind, I might be able to bring them back to the subject, but I haven't been and so this class has been a pure hell. I supplement my teaching with in-class writing (since I haven't the strength to lecture to people who aren't listening), but this means more grading for me at home while I'm trying to read 3 books a week (one of them being a book on the Holocaust).
To answer what I hope are your questions, I wake up at 5 in the morning and am unable to get back to sleep. I greet each Thursday (my big teaching day) with a palpable dread, and am filled with a feeling that I haven't really had before--a total hatred of teaching and a certain amount of fear of my classroom. Had I the time to consider all this seriously, I think I would be very very depressed, but I always have so much work to do that there isn't time for a reaction--read, fear, dread, go home, try not to drink too much.
Strangely enough, however, I have somehow made it through the giant list of 75 works. I am now at one book, and its not a particularly difficult book. As this list has gone, so too strangely has that other world in which I have dwelled for about 2 months. Seriously, I went into my comp class and had a great time--the other students were gone, replaced by clones that weren't at all a pain in the ass. My Holocaust class wasn't great, but it wasn't dreadful either. I began reading a book that isn't on a list and I love it, it's interesting. I stopped to talk with a professor and actually had an intelligent conversation. I slept last night pretty well, and am today without the sense of urgency that has plagued me since the beginning of August like a lost limb: phantom panic.
Monday after next I actually take the comps. I will be given six questions (2 for each set of 25 works) and from each set I will choose one and write 10-15 pages on the subject. Even writing it brings back a bit of the panic. Wish me well.
posted by Monstro D. Whale at
12:44 PM
1 Comments:
Good luck with that. I don't envy you.
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