I've been tempted to stay home for the rest of the semester so I can focus on recovering from SOBJA Syndrome, but it turns out that our short-term disability insurance doesn't apply to employees who are simply Sick of Being Jerked Around. There's no cure, either, and no known effective treatment except stepping back and taking a little perspective, but it's hard to see over the rim of the tub when one is immersed in SOBJA. (There's a little allusion to an Edgar Lee Masters poem, a reward for the attentive.)
So let's take the long view and seek reassurance that what I'm doing here matters. Just in the past week, for instance, I've had delightful and encouraging encounters with three of my former students, English majors who have gone on to do good work in the world.
Last Wednesday an alum visited my American Lit Survey class and brought along thirteen students from his high school AP Literature class. Last summer this alum had emailed to ask whether I'd mind if he dropped in the next time I found myself teaching "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," because he'd enjoyed discussing the poem in my class five or six years ago but he wanted a refresher course. I said sure, and one thing led to another and soon enough we ended up with a full classroom, something I haven't seen in a while--his AP Lit students outnumbered my American Lit students significantly.
And they were great! Only a few of the AP students contributed to the discussion, but they all paid close attention to the text and stayed off their phones, and a few of them came up to ask questions at the end. I had a great chat with my former student but what I enjoyed most of all was seeing him interact with his students and inspire them to read and think and learn. Good has been done here!
And then the next day I observed a class taught by another former student of mine who graduated 22 years ago and now teaches in my department. Another full classroom! What a treat to see my former student empowering her own students to engage with edgy texts and lead discussion of difficult topics. It's always rewarding to see a student step into her calling and become a peer.
And then on Saturday, between dropping my son at the Columbus airport and visiting the orchid show, I had breakfast with a former student who graduated in 2008 but stayed in our area for some years afterward. She was a nontraditional student when I taught her and we bonded over shared experiences, and now we are close friends despite seeing each other only a few times a year. She's putting her writing skills to good use and inspiring others to do the same.
It feels self-serving to say so, but when I see my former students working so hard to rock their world, I want to put my hand up and say I did that--or at least I played a small part in making it happen. It takes a village and so on, but if I made any small impact on enabling a student to make a meaningful impact on the wider world, I want to give myself and my colleagues a little pat on the back.
And I would do so if that darned SOBJA Syndrome weren't making my joints so stiff.
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