I suppose it's time for another round of News.

My time at Marquette is over, and almost ready to begin again. I've decided to continue to pursue my PhD, and after another round of applications, Marquette remains the best option for me. I have mixed feelings about that, but generally it is a very positive thing.

I still have to move, and finding a new apartment alone is fraught with financial difficulty. It's not ideal to have to sign a new lease and make a security deposit during months of unemployment. Ah well, I did bring it on myself. As I mentioned before, I'm heading back to Barakel for the summer. That decision gives me about four months of zero income - but it's always worked out fine before, so I'm thinking providential thoughts. I always say that it's my last summer at Barakel, but it really could be true this time. After this summer, I'll have to be working on dissertation stuff year-round.

I have finished my M.A. degree. Marquette sent me a lovely letter in the mail informing me that I have passed my comprehensive exam. It was nice to see it in writing again. After a year and a half of it looming over my head, it's nice to keep in mind the fact that it is over.

Hopefully the summer will give me more time for at least brief blog updates, and maybe even some reading.

Pssst, blog-reading friends,

You get to be the ones in the know.

Barakel is my summer jam. We can't seem to shake each other.

Passed

I passed the MA exam. I feel so relieved. And happy.

Now to finish the rest of this degree.

The test has been written. All I can do now is wait for the results. And I am far from certain as to what the results will be.

I'm so glad it's over. At least for now.

Maybe I can sleep?

In one week this test will be over. I'll have no idea whether or not I passed.

I want there to be relief. I want there to be joy.

I'll settle for some sleep.

For the Moments When Teaching Has Lost Its Bloom

Week four of the semester is generally a difficult one; tests, papers, and overflowing schedules combine and create stressed students and busy teachers. Luckily, I'm both.

JB introduced me to The Moth last year. Basically, it's a storytelling event. He goes every month and graciously allows me to climb into his car whenever I would like to go along. It's a very positive character trait, I think. Since he introduced me to The Moth, I've used it in my classes and encouraged students to attend.

Last night was the February Moth event. I, along with another friend, hopped into the CARDIS and journeyed through the frozen wasteland of Milwaukee. Arriving at the theatre, we found seats and were huddling together for warmth when I was tapped on the shoulder.

Six of my students from last semester were there. They had come as a group, riding the bus for half an hour then walking the rest of the way through the frigid air.


It was a flurry of greetings, reminiscence, and laughter.

           "I miss our English class."
           "It was eight, so I wasn't expecting it, but we had fun."
           "Can I have retroactive extra credit if I tell a story tonight?"
           "You'll know my story when you hear it. You'll know it's me."

We met up again at intermission and at the end of the evening. It was wonderful to see them. They were my students. Now they're a group - choosing to spend time together - choosing to spend time together hearing stories and absorbing language.

I wish I could take credit for being an amazing teacher that has given these students something concrete, but I can't. And maybe I shouldn't want to. Those students and I spent a semester together, and, somehow, that wasn't the end of our stories. Our stories have been impacted, an ongoing transformation.

I've written two rather self-pitying posts and chosen not to publish them. You are welcome. But I have now told you about them, so you can judge me for them without having to endure reading them. Again, I think about you, dear readers.

It's about midway through the third week of the semester, the time when everything still seems like smooth sailing. (Hint: it's not - weeks four and five allow you to realize just how innocent you were way back in week three.) Everything's going well. Students are alive. Teachers are alive and well. One of them keeps making me watch movies for class - it's odd, but it's an American Lit class, so I understand that there aren't enough good books to read. (Note: that was a deliberately inflammatory remark.) Enjoyed a polar vortex day off of school (gave me time to read Utopia). Had a birthday.

MA Exam is six weeks away. There is some level of panic. I'm reading random things as quickly as possible while trying to remember what I've read. Trying not to beat myself up too much about misidentifying a Petrarchan sonnet in the last practice question while still accepting enough responsibility to be sure to remember the correct rhyme scheme in the future.

In short, I'm busy. I read an article today about why not to use the word 'busy'. As you can see, I'm choosing to ignore that pellet of wisdom. Mostly because I think it's an accurate choice of word for describing my chosen situation.

Now I've nattered on for paragraphs without saying anything of substance. Sorry. Feel free to pretend this post doesn't exist. I mostly just wanted to say hello and that I haven't forgotten you all.