So, as most of you know, I'm teaching a freshman composition class. To say the least, I've mostly been winging it since the beginning, which was about three weeks ago. It's weird, but even though I'm definitely more confident in class, not feeling the need to throw up every time I look a student in the eye or spew out a sentence, I still don't feel like a teacher. I'm not sure if I'm actually helping anyone learn anything.
But then I have a random moment or two where I think, "Ok, maybe something is going on under the surface." For instance, today I just introduced our second paper for the semester: a profile. This is basically where each student finds something interesting about a person, place, or event, and writes a 3-page profile on it. I passed out the paper's guidelines and a few people had questions on format and page length, but soon I moved on to the dreary task of talking for the rest of class. After class, two students came up to ask what I thought about possible topics for their profile. I don't know, it wasn't big or anything, no bright light from heaven saying, "Here's your affirmation," but there was something in the way these two girls talked about their topics that made me feel as if this assignment actually meant something. Maybe not much, but at least something.
I just wish I had more to go on then brief moments like that. Not like I expected a Dead Poet's Society to be formed (even though that would be sweet), but maybe just some sense of purpose behind this whole class.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
News that will change your life.
Here it is: news that will forever alter how you live and achieve: Taco Bell has a new, diet-friendly menu. I'm now eating two fresco soft tacos for well under the reasonable calorie-intake limit for lunchtime meals. Taco Bell, you have surpassed my expectations, which was, granted, not very high to begin with.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Starting Out
Ok ok ok, I finally caved and started a blog. I guess that makes me only several years behind the times. Most people reading this probably know me pretty well, but for the rest, "Hi, I'm Heather Schultz...and you are?" *shakes hands*
I'm not sure why I decided to start a blog or if I'll keep it up. I tend to prefer writing by hand...it just seems more personal, you know? That, and I like to underline words for emphasize, so now I have to take the time to italicize the words I want to stand out. But, on the other hand (no pun futurely intended), this gives me less writer's cramp. But with writing by hand, it's also comforting when you have direct control over who reads what you write...but now I'm slipping into second person and that doesn't work well for a blog, does it? Dang it.
Well, now that I'm thinking about it, I think I started a blog because I want people to read something I've written instead of keeping it all to myself. Maybe it's a way for me to open up a little more, I don't know. It's so easy to write out haphazard thoughts, uncaring of their weight or implications, when you know no one will read them...but now I actually have to consider what I'm saying, if I'm even really saying anything.
Anyway, it's been a pretty tough week for me. My grandma Schultz passed away on Monday and suddenly I'm faced with that terrible notion of mortality. I hate mortality. It freaks me out. Sure, I know everyone must die, but I don't like remembering that I know it. It's so much easier to just forget until it happens to someone else. I hate that I'm going to die and afraid I will have countless regrets when I do. I keep wondering if gramma had any regrets. Somehow, I don't think she did, or maybe that just me trying to grasp for a comforting thought. But, really, I don't. I know she missed grampa terribly, but I wouldn't consider that a regret.
But I think that's why I'm so eager to get as much accomplished as possible right now. I want to do and see everyone that I can and never to look back on my life with reeeegreeeets. But, then again, I don't want to rush through my life, losing my appreciation for the simpler things. Like when the leaves change in autumn, or driving through a part of town I've never really noticed before. I don't want to get so lost in the rush of "am I doing as much as I could be?" and, instead, be pleased by what I do have.
So, as usual, I'm reminding myself, "Take a deep breath, spaz, and remember that you are so blessed."
I'm not sure why I decided to start a blog or if I'll keep it up. I tend to prefer writing by hand...it just seems more personal, you know? That, and I like to underline words for emphasize, so now I have to take the time to italicize the words I want to stand out. But, on the other hand (no pun futurely intended), this gives me less writer's cramp. But with writing by hand, it's also comforting when you have direct control over who reads what you write...but now I'm slipping into second person and that doesn't work well for a blog, does it? Dang it.
Well, now that I'm thinking about it, I think I started a blog because I want people to read something I've written instead of keeping it all to myself. Maybe it's a way for me to open up a little more, I don't know. It's so easy to write out haphazard thoughts, uncaring of their weight or implications, when you know no one will read them...but now I actually have to consider what I'm saying, if I'm even really saying anything.
Anyway, it's been a pretty tough week for me. My grandma Schultz passed away on Monday and suddenly I'm faced with that terrible notion of mortality. I hate mortality. It freaks me out. Sure, I know everyone must die, but I don't like remembering that I know it. It's so much easier to just forget until it happens to someone else. I hate that I'm going to die and afraid I will have countless regrets when I do. I keep wondering if gramma had any regrets. Somehow, I don't think she did, or maybe that just me trying to grasp for a comforting thought. But, really, I don't. I know she missed grampa terribly, but I wouldn't consider that a regret.
But I think that's why I'm so eager to get as much accomplished as possible right now. I want to do and see everyone that I can and never to look back on my life with reeeegreeeets. But, then again, I don't want to rush through my life, losing my appreciation for the simpler things. Like when the leaves change in autumn, or driving through a part of town I've never really noticed before. I don't want to get so lost in the rush of "am I doing as much as I could be?" and, instead, be pleased by what I do have.
So, as usual, I'm reminding myself, "Take a deep breath, spaz, and remember that you are so blessed."
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