Friday, April 12, 2013

seasons change with the scenery

Registering students have a certain air about them - anxiety tinged with excitement and sprinkled with fears of technology failing them. Most of my students are registering for their sophomore year. One girl walked down the stairs with me after class, telling me how her father is pressuring her to choose a major, but she's paralyzed because she doesn't want to make the wrong choice.

I told her it's not a failure to change your mind. Most people switch majors in college. We talked about what she enjoys doing, what she sees herself doing, and if she likes being around people, and how she feels about silence. It took a while, but there are five flights of stairs.

I don't know if anything I said helped her. Not sure why she did, but I'm gad that she felt she could talk to me.

If this whole career thing works out, part of my job one day will be to advise slightly panicked students about class and career choices. They'll have to talk to me; I'll be assigned to them as their adviser. I'll tell them it's ok to fail and that I've failed and that everyone fails. They won't believe me then, but maybe later.


APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding 
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing 
Memory and desire, stirring 
Dull roots with spring rain. 
Winter kept us warm, covering        
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding 
A little life with dried tubers. 
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee 
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, 
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. 
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch. 
And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s, 
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled, 
And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. 
In the mountains, there you feel free. 
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

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