Guest Post: The First Day of a Spring Semester

by Glenda Denicolo, Ammerman Campus Coordinator, New Member Mentoring Program

 

Editor’s Note:  SKG here -- hoping that you're all doing well and that you're not half as discombobulated by the snow day and first week of school as I am. For instance, this morning I tried to convince my class that it was Thursday, not Tuesday. Also, I thought the smart cart computer was broken but it turned out to be a matter of *shudders with embarrassment* not turning on the smart cart power button. Oy.

Why would I out myself in this manner? In the hopes that you remember, when you're having your own confused, rushing-around-to-get-everything-done-but-accomplishing-very-little days (or weeks) that . . .  you're not alone.

Thus is the message we get from the fun, fanciful little story below.

 

It is early morning and a familiar sound wakes up the instructor. “New e-mail alert”, he reckons. Just one more to be added to the 107 unread messages received in the last 24 hours. “Must have coffee”. He quickly goes through his morning routine and gets in the car. Wishful thinking. He gets out of the car again to scrape ice off the windshield.

Somehow, on the way to SCCC, a song on the radio reminds him of a TLC talk he wants to attend this week. The song’s title, Aerosmith’s Dream On, was a presage of the week ahead. “But before that talk, I must share my idea for a new class assignment with Peter….and Mary – I only see her momentarily on Wednesdays. Ah, I need to ask Paul to photocopy more course outlines. Wait. Perhaps I can do that myself, Paul is too busy this time of the semester. What are all those e-mails about anyway??” The instructor proudly believes his course outlines are infallible this semester. After a long time strategizing, he doubts the students will find any loophole.

One more endorsement for "Feeling and Form:
Collages, Prints,and Drawings"
by Meredith Starr and Richard Mack
(Lyceum Gallery: Thurs, Jan 30, 4 pm.)

At school, the corridors look relatively calm, with the occasional lost newbie. The instructor is blessed with no computer problems, and so there is enough time to deal with some of those e-mails. “Where’s ‘select all’?…ok, now ‘delete all’.” He feels a brief moment of self-reproach, and hesitantly moves the mouse away from the delete button. Too many e-mails from people he never heard of. Sometimes he cannot figure out whether the messages are important or not. He speed-reads, decides to save some just in case, and probably delete all when the inbox reaches the storage limit (quite often…). He takes notes of several events and meetings in his Google calendar – a fantastic advice Mary gave him in his first semester. He remembers her saying “the record will be there when you write your promotion Form A”. She hasn’t done that herself yet, though.

It’s show time! The corridors are now full with faculty and students, and you can smell the nervous energy in the air: it smells like baloney sandwich mixed with a French perfume. On his way to class, the instructor is focused, making detailed mental notes on the class he is about to teach. Right then a student approaches and informs him that her cousin’s wedding is next Tuesday, and that she won’t be able to come to class that day. She would like to photocopy his class notes in advance. The instructor’s detailed mental notes are now in disarrange (it was a feeble attempt anyway; he knows he can always rely on his written notes). No, he is not completely sure of what is going to happen next Tuesday; he just wants to start the class.

He explains the course outline to the kids, and secretly braces for more stories of cousins’ weddings and other unpredictability ahead. The toughest policy in his course outline is no curving of grades, by his personal choice. The instructor quickly learned in his first semester the importance of emphasizing such major policy on the first day of classes. “Besides,” he reflects with a smile, “I never heard objections on the first day.”

The class goes well, he feels ennobled, with a sensation of a job well done. He gives his best, and is now exhausted. The smile of glorified self-satisfaction disappears from his face when he realizes that it was just the first of three classes, starting in five minutes. Also, 43 new e-mails arrived.

After all classes are over, the instructor finds it a bit difficult to speak and think clearly. He has an office hour in the afternoon, and crosses his fingers that it will be a calm one. Perhaps chatting with his colleagues will help him focus again later.

Prof. Anne Smith enters his office. She is full of enthusiasm, and asks whether he will submit his travel form for a very exciting conference this coming March in Anchorage, Alaska. It is going to be 1,499.99 dollars; just what he has available for reimbursement (minus 1 cent). She sent him an e-mail about this super conference. Suddenly he is worried he will be left behind if he doesn’t apply. Now he is franticly browsing the web, and applying for that conference.

 

On his drive back home, the instructor realizes a few things. He cannot go to that conference he already applied to on the account of a family wedding! He also missed a meeting he wanted to attend today, and left several e-mails unanswered. Bottommost, he is worn out.

 

“What a strange day...”, he thinks. “But it gets easier.”

 

Welcome back, everyone!!