Coasting the chaos

Is it selfish to make things easier on myself in the final weeks of the semester? I do it every year in American Lit Survey: the final two or three weeks are devoted entirely to poetry written since the 1950s, focusing on poems I could teach with my eyes shut and both hands tied behind my back. There's not much prep required--I mean, if I can't get up in front of a class and lead a discussion on Allen Ginsberg's "Howl," I'm in the wrong business. Similarly, next week my literary theory students are giving presentations in class. They'll be working pretty hard to prepare and present, but my role is just to show up and take notes, maybe ask some questions at the end. Easy-peasy. No prep required. Time to coast!

Well, sort of. The time I'm not spending doing heavy-duty class prep is now devoted to writing final exams and grading papers and dealing with panicky emails from students who have suddenly realized that the end is near and they're not ready. I'm already looking ahead to a new class I'm teaching next year, but my struggling students are still mired in the murk of this semester and hoping they'll find a way out. I feel for them. This bizarre year has not been easy on any of us.

And yesterday I discovered yet another small pleasure the pandemic has diminished: browsing at the library. Sure, we can still walk over there and search for books in the stacks, but we're not supposed to touch any books except the ones we intend to check out. My problem is that I can't read the call numbers on the spines unless the books are at eye level, so I end up pulling out a lot of nearby books and bringing them up to my face so I can read the numbers, touching book after book after book. I suppose I could send a student worker over to find the books I need, but then I would lose the pleasure of browsing nearby shelves, the serendipity of discovering something I didn't know I needed to read.

It will all come back, I tell myself. One day the masks will come off and the signs warning about touching books will come down and we'll be able to gather face-to-face without fear. Meanwhile, we carry on for just a few more grueling weeks full of anxiety, stress, and struggle. Can you blame me for trying to make one small part of those weeks just a little easier?