I can’t believe I’m having this particular feeling. I usually don’t have this kind of concern as I’m always around friends and family. I have been in Nanchang for four years and my friends had to leave for one reason or another. Now, I’m here in this quiet city by myself without…any community. No LGBTQ+. No gaymers. No Dungeon & Dragons players. So, this is what loneliness feels like.
Let me point out that gray hair runs in my family. Almost everybody on my mother’s side gets gray hair at an early age despite living a stress-free lifestyle. Notice that I said “stress-free”. I used to live a stress-free life before going down the path of pedagogy. Don’t get me wrong. It is a well-rewarded path but – oh, my God – it sped up my graying process.
I’m not feeling so hot. I’m feeling drained. It’s like I’m running on fumes. This rarely happens to me and it’s a little unsettling. Luckily, I’m writing nearing the day’s end – on a Friday – so I can finally get some rest. Maybe I’m just exhausted. Either way, I’m going to keep this short so I can rest.
Year 3 of my time as a big boy teacher has come to an end and I must say that I have learned so much. This is no surprise as I have been warned this would be the case. “Teachers are learning just as they are teaching.” It’s why teachers are labeled philosophers. God knows I’m feeling it every day. I’m always learning something new and figuring out the best way to teach it to the next flow of students.
I’m leading into the last month of my tenth grader’s school year and I have to say…I’m learning more this year than last year. I have learned more about Realism and the origins of Science Fiction. But the magical realism lesson stuck with me the most, mainly because I can finally put a name to it.
It is amazing how life works. The moment when the past meets the present. What do I mean? Oh, it’s quite amusing; I was just reminded of my past as a shithead teenager. How? Well, how else does karma work? I have a fifteen-year-old who acts EXACTLY like I did when I was fifteen-year-old. And I do mean EXACTLY LIKE ME.
There are so many things that I had to do for my students; I’m amazed that I’m still awake while typing. On top of that, I had to get my tuition taken care of for this month – and the next semester. I wanted to make sure that my last semester was paid for before I begin my next semester. That was the easiest part, believe it or not. The other things on my list…not so much.
These past two weeks have been a testament to my patience and my ability as a teacher. Even during the weekends, I hadn’t been able to get a real moment to breathe. Even as I type this blog, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. I mean…I knew I was going to have to deal with teenage rebellion at some point and I thought I was really for it. Oh, boy, I was so wrong.
Today is a good day for many reasons. I just finished my last paper for my Literary Theory and now I can return to my actual writing (I was only doing about 25%). I will admit that this class was something fierce and gave me a newfound respect for literary theorists. I mean, the amount of analytical thinking involved with this type of narrative nonfiction is quite something. It’s something else entirely and I know hands-down that I’m not going anywhere near it after I finish this class.
Let me be the first to admit this openly: I don’t have much of an analytical bone. When I read books, I notice things and can examine the surface meaning and themes of the books. However, I can’t say I can apply criticism/lenses to them. You know…psychoanalytical, feminist, Marxist, deconstructionist, and such. And, it’s because of this that I’m having a difficult time in my current class.