I was not going to write a post today. In fact, it is a bit late. But, I read something today in Billy Oppenheimer’s newsletter that reminded me of me. I know, kind of a redundant sentence there but please, bear with me.
I had a very difficult week. After celebrating Epiphany Day on Monday, I started to get ready for my classes. One of these classes was/is a new class prep for me. This preparation took considerable time but thankfully I had set up the classes which I have taught before first. Then, I got a phone call. You know, the dreaded phone call we professors fear. The one phone call right on the knick of time when your schedule is thrown out the window. I was half way done with my new class prep when the phone call came in and I was tired. It was one of those things that left me deflated.
My woes were not over though. Next day, my department chair realized the changes we had just done would not work because of the textbooks. If you are a professor, you know how delicate the balance is between the bookstore, textbook orders, their dreaded late orders, and any last minute changes. In short: you will be shot down much more efficiently than water quenching thirst on a hot day after an intense hour of exercise. This meant that mid afternoon on Friday (classes start tomorrow), I had no set schedule. We did not know what was going to happen. My nerves were on pins and needles.
A decision was made to give me the graduate thesis class (which is also new prep for me) but there were materials in place. I had to organize them a little more and prepare the online classroom on Canvas. And yes, finish my Art Appreciation set up as well.
To say that I was exhausted today would be an understatement. It was not just the exhaustion but also feeling bummed and down about the entire set of events. My department chair was very kind and arranged things as best as she could within the circumstances to help me. For that, I am grateful, very grateful indeed. She is very good at her job and while being new, she performs like a pro.
So, what is the problem you say? The roller coaster ride these last few days has been intense. And so it has been the realization that my job favors some over others. My load ended up being heavier than others who were involved in the decision making process. If numbers (and again, if you are a professor, you know how much numbers matter) are the metric, then by that metric, I am working more and for less.
The problem with academia is that unfair treatment is hard to prove. Very hard. It is embedded in rationalizations of every kind and type that make sense. Of course it does. One could say it is even pragmatic. But it is still unfair treatment.
As I was watching Gladiator ii today (I loved it!), I wondered why I keep teaching, why do I keep showing up, why do I care, and why should I go above and beyond? Indeed, why? We had to stop the movie for me to think out loud and organize my thoughts. My kids attend my university and we have committed to stay around at least until they leave. That is the plan anyway. I look for other options and have even applied to other places but there is so much to consider. And would anyone else care about what I have to offer? Yes, indeed some dark thoughts started roaming around. I felt, feel defeated and in a way trapped.
But… something happened. I opened my email and saw Billy’s newsletter, which I love. I started reading and yes, I had read some of today’s content in another of his newsletters. The end of it however, was significant to me and though I am sure it was in other of his weekly emails, it stayed with me in a different way. The closing of the email was about a quote from the actor Jeremy Strong talking about whether he fears burnout. His answer stopped me on my tracks. He said “I find tremendous joy in doing this work.”
“I don’t think so,” Strong replied, “because I find a tremendous amount of joy in doing this work.”
I almost cried when I read it. Today, it resonated so much. There were two good things that happened this week related to my job. I should have treasured them to hold me over the darkness. On Wednesday, one of my students (you know who you are) texted me to tell me she had been thinking of me and was looking forward to have class again with me. Please, I am not crying! You are! Who am I kidding? I almost sobbed. The other one was that when preparing my new graduate class, I remembered my graduate school days and how much I loved being in graduate school. So much that it took me too long to get out! (Not really, I had some ups and downs that held me back).
I realized that I get to do what I love to do every single day. This sounds so cheesy but there is something magical that happens in the classroom. The camaraderie and synergy of working together to create, to make, to design, and to invent that take place in the classroom, is glorious. There are of course, downs and challenging situations but none of these take away the joy that is showing up and getting to help a group of people to make something beautiful. Or in this semester’s case, learning to see beauty in the world and in its history. Yes, we are a world dealing with terrible, terrible things but we are also a world where people like my students and like me, learn to find the beauty of creation and do it over and over and over again. And I have the privilege to help these kiddos see and make. Who gets to do that?
When I taught junior high school back home, there was a kid who was failing my class. My class was an easy one so really the kid should have done better. But, this student begged me. I gave him/her a brand new notebook and told him/her if you can fill it with all the semester’s stuff by tomorrow, you will get a passing grade. His/her mother came to me the next day to ask me what kind of spell did I put in her child because she had never seen him/her work that way for anyone. I said, I was skeptical that he/she would do it but I also believed in him/her and opened the door. The choice was his/hers. I thought, for some reason we need to hear or to believe that someone believes we can do something. The something does not need to be big. What makes a difference is that THAT someone thinks we can.
With that, I will go tomorrow to teach like it was my first day ever teaching. With my eyes full of hope and my heart beating a little enthusiastically, and the pitch of my voice a little higher. Because I get to be part of the process of helping eyes see, helping minds think, and helping hands create. And because of that, I will show up with joy, with a lot of joy.
Love,
Alma