Today is my birthday, but this month also marks an important milestone for me. I’ve been teaching for twenty years.
I wasn’t always sure that this was what I was going to be, despite the amazing teachers I had, how much I enjoyed tutoring and directing, and the empowerment and escape path I found in education.
I had a year between undergrad and grad school, and when I started grad school in the summer of 1998, I was sure of what I wanted.
Especially after I got to guest teach for the first time.
If the feeling I had had happened in a church, I’d be a nun now.
I’d like to claim it was inevitable, and I could make that case–I’ve seen my permanent record. (I asked my mom for a note to see it when I was in high school–I wondered if the rumors about it were true.)
One of the first notes, from my kindergarten teacher:
“Karma displays leadership abilities on the playground.”
And so here I am, displaying leadership abilities on the playground of higher education.
In these twenty years, I’ve taken several pedagogy courses, including a film pedagogy course, I’ve made a video for my students on better editing, I’ve mentored (officially and unofficially) many students, worked with our at-risk students, written two pedagogy books, served with our campus book program, done library outreach, created courses, worked with student interns, been an interim director of a program, served on committees, overseen comp exams, worked with local theatres, brought speakers to campus, significantly contributed to scholarship in my fields, edited Prized Writing, served on two dissertation committees, gotten my students scholarships and into graduate schools, facilitated the stand-up comedy club, etc.
I have won the 2015 AF Excellence in Teaching Award.
And then there are the courses.
I think this is the complete list (two of these years at Florida State, getting a terminal masters by writing a book–yes, a book, for a masters; six of these years at UCD, getting a PhD, during which for one year I just TAd; and then full-time at UCD for the rest; adjuncting for Los Rios; I’m only counting courses for which I was the sole instructor):
Freshman Comp: 25
Writing About The Simpsons: Satire and Postmodernism. This turned into a book and a freshman seminar at UCD that I’ve taught over a dozen times. 2
Great Books of the World: 2
Young People’s Lit: 1
Storytelling: 1
Multicultural Children’s Lit: 2
Science and Speculative Fiction by Women: 1
Introduction to Drama: 1
The Short Story: 1
Writing Research Papers: 2
Witches: Myth and Literature: 1
Performing Arts Today: 1
Contemporary British Literature: 1
Fantasy Literature (in Oxford): 1
Group Study (travel writing): 1
Style in the Essay: 7
Graphic Novels: 4
Writing in Education: 3
Writing in Film: 2
Writing in International Relations: 7
Writing in Health Science: 23
Freshman Seminars (British Humour, Science and Literature, Doctor Who, Margaret Atwood, The Simpsons, Stand-Up Comedy): 41
Advanced Composition and Rhetoric: 30
Grad Course: Writing in Performance Studies: 4
Writing in Business: 2
Shakespeare: 2
Writing in Fine Arts: 2
Tutoring in Writing: 2
Independent Studies: 8
Grad Course: Writing in Forensic Science: 1
Introduction to Fiction: 3
Introduction to Lit: 8
Developmental Writing (Workload): 63
If my math is correct and if I’m not forgetting a course or two, I have taught 255 courses so far.
(I refuse to do the math on how many papers I’ve graded.)
Not bad for someone who had a less than 1% chance of getting a BA.
Not bad for a chronic pain patient.
Today, I’m stressed because I have to finish grading two classes; two more start Monday.
But I’m excited about those courses.
And, as I remind my students, I have an amazing job. I get paid to think. I tell students what I think, they write down what they think, and then I tell them what I thought of that.
🙂
There’s no way I could have done everything I have if I didn’t love this.
And part of what I love is seeing them grow, into better writers, better thinkers, and sometimes better people.
The other thing I love is having that rare relationship with a student that grows into a real friendship.
(You know who you are.)
So thank you to all my students, except for the baker’s dozen that have really pissed me off (it’s amazing that it’s only about a dozen–fewer than one a year–who has really been a problem).
Thank you for your patience, your encouragement, your laughter, your hard work, your willingness to let me experiment, your friendship.
