O Teacher, Where Art Thou?


My parents think I’m a college professor.  They are so proud.  But I know that I am not a real college professor and probably never will be.

I used to love teaching.  On a good day, one of those when my students have done the reading and they are on fire with witty comments, laughing at my dumb jokes, asking smart questions, I still do.  As I was preparing my (5-page, not that bad, thanks) syllabus for yet another first-year writing course this year, however, I felt something within had shifted.  From my very first year teaching high school in the fall of 1995 until about a year ago, I looked forward to the first day like any good perpetual-student-person.  The fresh notebooks! The sharp pencils! The new calendar! Not this year.  I prepped as I always do, for a brand-spanking-new course, no less, but the thrill just was…

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