And so it begins…

In like a lamb, except that I’m talking about a period of four months, not thirty-one days. I do hope that the ‘out like a lion’ isn’t going to apply to this school semester, but I’m willing to pay the price for my metaphor if that’s how it works.

But I do have to say, right now I am pretty sanguine. The difference between my nerves last semester at this time and this one are night and day. I’m coasting on a finished syllabus and a bare-bones first paper, and feeling pretty high and ahead of the game. I had to get to finals week (when there wasn’t anything I could do about anything, anyway) before I was this comfortable with my class.

Granted, I have a class under my belt. My greeness this time of last semester does not escape my memory. The sheer number of times I had to revise the schedule is proof enough of how untried my teaching skills were.

But now, after meeting my students and even getting most of their names, I am pretty calm about the whole thing. I’m looking forward to reading their papers, and I think a lot of them are looking forward to writing them. I supposed that’s a boon — this semester the students got to pick which section they were in, so they picked Narrative and Descriptive. Pair that with my penchant for that type of writing, as well, and you’ve got at least one explanation for my unexpected chill.

I know that the semester of teaching was most of it, though. I went through a class, I taught 24 students some things, I passed most of them, and I got good evaluations (except for one, but one outta 24 ain’t bad, right?), and none of them threw anything at me. My boss is happy with me, and so is her boss, and the whole department is still behind me. At least, that’s how it feels. Have I mentioned that I am EXTREMELY lucky to be at the school I’m at?

So, if I could tell my past self one thing, it would be, “This, too, shall pass.” I mean, I’d probably be annoyed with my future self for telling me something I already knew, but it really is the best advice I could give.


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