Grinding toward spring break

On Monday I taught four classes that filled me with energy and hope for the future, and then I attended a two-hour meeting that made me want to curl up under the table in a fetal position and whimper.

That's the way it goes when we're wrapped up in a campus controversy while continuing to do some of the world's more rewarding work. Learning is happening! Students are exploring interesting texts! Both our men's and women's basketball teams are playing in the NCAA tournament! Even on the budget crisis front there's good news: immediate cuts were less draconian than expected and action is being taken to get us through the rest of this year with a little less agony. 

This week I've seen evidence of stakeholders on every level--students, staff, faculty, administrators, trustees, alumni--pulling together to maintain the College's mission well into the future, and as a member of Faculty Council, I've been directly involved in an effort that produced immediate and gratifying results. I can't go into detail but I'll say this: sometimes words work, and when they do, it makes me very happy.

But still I spend far too much time in meetings or casual encounters with people who are fearful and distraught or just plain old angry. Members of the torch-and-pitchfork brigade, fueled by unsupported rumors, are looking for someone to burn in effigy. Local media outlets have fanned the flames, but I can't really blame them. They're doing their best with limited information and so far they've been mostly accurate about some things. But we're still in the middle of an evolving situation, which makes people very nervous. In the absence of solid information, while all the plans that have been put into place this week move toward fruition, we all need to step back and take a deep breath.

Which is why it's a very good thing spring break starts tomorrow. For me, actually, it starts at 10 a.m. today. I'm giving a midterm exam at 8 a.m. (as if students needed another reason to hate that class) and teaching some Harlem Renaissance authors at 9, but I have a guest speaker in my afternoon class and I changed my 11:00 class to an online discussion. I thought about coming up with some legitimate pedagogical reason to move that class online, but the truth is that if I don't get out of town soon, my head is going to explode--and who would clean up the mess?

I see that someone is already preparing for a mess this weekend, when campus will be invaded by hordes of high school students competing in Science Olympiad. As long as the students keep coming, we'll keep teaching 'em. The gears of the educational machine grind on, and those of us in the heart of the machine can only hope that, like Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times, we'll slide through the gears without being ground to pieces.