Light Your Matches

Let's just say Thanksgiving is an aptly named holiday.

I got to leave the beautiful (read: deadening) city of Muncie and head to Greenwood to see my significant other, enjoy two Thanksgiving gatherings, spend time with my family, shop, and watch Netflix. (Which, let's face it, is the new gateway drug.)

A week ago, I found myself asking the question, "Why am I doing this?" I felt behind in my classes, I felt disorganized in my writing, and I felt like my tutoring sessions were sub par. Also, many of my students scored below 50% on their JOURNAL ASSIGNMENTS! The assignments that were supposed to bolster their final papers for my unit, they put no effort into the whole time. So, clearly, I felt I wasn't a good teacher on top of everything else. I felt uninspired and disenchanted.

Thanksgiving was a godsend.

It refueled me just enough to get through my essay on Virginia Woolf and the everyday and return to a class full of students who didn't seem to care. I was inching toward the finishline at a slow, but steady pace. But I still found myself asking, "Why am I doing this?"

Last night reminded me.

I presented my paper on mental illness in Mrs. Dalloway. Ironically, the topic was about how the everyday can exacerbate or alleviate mental illness side effects. As I read my research, I saw my effort and energy paying off in dividends. Undergraduate students were there to listen for extra credit, and I was so excited to be a part of this exchanged of ideas, I was only half annoyed that one texted under her desk the whole time.

When I got home, I set to work on adding to my Victorian lit paper about Alice in Wonderland. I was tired, but I pushed through and before I knew it, I looked to see that it was 2:00 am. I didn't even notice, because I was too excited about Foucault and normed bodies and social policing in Alice. 

I woke up this morning ready to conquer. I knew I couldn't make my students value their education like I do (In fact, during a tutorial today, a student was arguing that it's stupid that she has to take an English class when she is a physical therapy major. *smh*), but I can model for my students my value of education. I can't be certain that my tutorial efforts are forming better writers, but I can put all my efforts into making that happen. And I can't solve my personal unrest and disenchantment with a simple answer, but I can remember to take stock of the positives in my life and celebrate the sparks of inspiration when they come.

So, Why am I doing this?

Well...

Because I CAN do this! And so can you.