Troubleshooter-in-chief

We're meeting in the library, my first-year writers and I, as they diligently gather sources for their research projects, and suddenly all those research skills we've talked about in theory run up against the real world when a student asks me, "How do I get the shelves to move?"

I distinctly recall showing this class how to make the library shelves move back when we had our library tour, but this time there was some sort of glitch preventing the mechanism from operating. "This is when we notify a library official," I told my student, which we proceeded to do. Soon, the shelves were moving and he'd found his book.

Some students had trouble with search terms that were too broad or too narrow (or too badly spelled) to produce useful results, while others wondered how they could find a source opposing their view--how could anyone possibly disagree? Deadlines are looming and the clock is ticking so we are meeting in the library all week, determined to locate sufficient sources for every topic. 

This part of the semester is when the rubber hits the road, not just for first-year writers but for the rest of my students too. This week in class my capstone students are practicing their presentations in preparation for the big public event next week, so I'm busy providing guidance about all manner of practical matters, from making titles more specific to indicating quotes without resorting to bunny-ears to using a water bottle to create a meaningful pause.

In these classes my role has shifted from instructor to troubleshooter as I help students make their way toward completing big projects. I like this role; it may look sometimes as if I'm not doing much in the classroom, but it takes some effort to clear the path so students can find their own way, and in the end, they'll learn something from the struggle.

I worry about some of them: will they have time to pull it all together before the deadline, or will they fall by the wayside despite my best efforts to keep them focused? I'm taking encouragement from the condition of the damaged dragon tree in my office, which looked hopeless in August but is now sending forth shoots that get stronger by the day. If all my students can end the semester with that kind of fortitude and strength, we'll all be happy.