Dream
I walked into a classroom that was absolutely packed; sixty students cramped into those economy too-small deskseats. There was an undisciplined yet positive energy: each was involved with his or her own conversation or doodling or reverie.
One student shouted a hail in that tone that is part welcome, part challenge. I thought, "Whose unstructured mess of a class is this? Another of my colleagues without any class control" -- and then it struck me that this was my class.
I must have missed the first few days of school.
So I dove in, and wrote on the board
You are here to be clear.
My usual school dream comes nearer the start of the year, is anxious, unfinished. I want to forget it. In this one I set in with brisk spirit to instruct, and upon waking, set to work in the journal.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
One student shouted a hail in that tone that is part welcome, part challenge. I thought, "Whose unstructured mess of a class is this? Another of my colleagues without any class control" -- and then it struck me that this was my class.
I must have missed the first few days of school.
So I dove in, and wrote on the board
You are here to be clear.
My usual school dream comes nearer the start of the year, is anxious, unfinished. I want to forget it. In this one I set in with brisk spirit to instruct, and upon waking, set to work in the journal.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.