Loving those lightbulb moments

A student comes to me for help with paper and somewhere in the course of our discussion I see a lightbulb burst into full glow just above her head. Suddenly she gets it. What did I say--or not say?

Another student comes in to talk about what's so great about the English major, and she asks me whether I went to college knowing what I wanted to do. I tell her I entered college undecided but chose English after a professor wrote on my final paper, "If you don't go into English, I shall go into mourning." She leaves still undecided, but we're making progress. If she doesn't go into English...some other department will be very well blessed by her presence.

I'm reading the essay exams from my film class and they're all batting around the same general idea in a reasonably competent manner, but then I read one that points out an important element of the film that I had never even considered--and it changes the way I look at this scene. There's this ridiculous line in the film textbook warning that professors are unlikely to learn anything new from students, but I'm happy to report that it's wrong wrong wrong.  


Prufrock day in American Lit! Before class, a little bumper music: Simon and Garfunkel singing "The Dangling Conversation" (link here). I get to squeeze the universe into a ball and roll it toward a room full of students. Will they answer the overwhelming question or deflect it? Either way, at least the question gets asked.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my job?