Five students showed up for American Lit this morning--five! Out of a possible thirteen! But they seem to have done the reading so we had a pretty lively discussion of Louise Erdrich's "Fleur," during which the students came to appreciate how effectively Pauline uses Fleur to deflect attention from her own culpability for three deaths. And I got to refer to one of the men as "Dances with Pigs," which is always fun. I only wish a few more students had been present to enjoy the discussion.
But I don't really blame them. No spring break + Easter weekend + pandemic fatigue = a whole lot of students taking a long weekend. And faculty too, to judge by the unusual number of available spaces in the faculty lot closest to my building this morning. I hear them thinking spring has finally arrived, so let's make a break for it! Except the temperature got down into the 20s last night so it doesn't feel so much like spring out there.
Two of my classes have "research days" today, and they are free to conduct their research from the comfort of their own rooms (or, more likely, beds), so I have just one more face-to-face class session before I'll be heading out of here too. I've been spending way too much time this week holed up inside for Zoom meetings, but today the sun is shining so I may stop on my way to Jackson and go for a walk in the woods, even though the temperature is lingering in the 30s. I have a coat, I have hiking shoes in my car, and I have to see the spring ephemerals blooming before ephemeral spring slips away. So why not live a little?
It's funny how time works: I keep wishing away the rest of the semester while trying to slow down spring so I don't miss all its beauty. Can't have it both ways: the spring wildflowers that make me want time to linger exist on the same timeline as three weeks of classes remaining in the semester, so until time travel is perfected, I need to take time as it comes, appreciating every moment no matter how empty or ugly or dull.
But on the other hand, the moments spent with spring wildflowers help to make all those Zoom calls and quiet classrooms more bearable. So off to class I go, willing to keep educating the few students likely to show up even if they're the only thing standing between me and a walk in the woods. We can do this! (And if I keep telling myself that, eventually I'll believe it.)
2 comments:
I know the feeling! Three in person today, one on line, out of 17 enrolled students.
But the three that were there were GREAT! Thank goodness!
And I just got an email from a student saying three of her Monday classes were moved to Zoom and mine is the only one meeting face-to-face, so could she please Zoom to class on Monday? I think some of my colleagues have created their own mini-spring breaks!
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