Let's discuss the myth.
The average person in the operational Air Force believes that teaching at the Academy is a cush job. I'm not sure what they think we do here, or where they get that notion. Before I came here, my peers--though proud of me and happy for me--made jokes about how I should think of them while I'm out playing the links at one of the Academy's world-class golf courses, and I should toast them when I'm sitting around the O'Club at "beer-thirty"* with my fellow instructors.
* "Beer-thirty" is a military tradition. The term implies leaving work early to "have a meeting" for "morale purposes." My peers were under the impression I'd be cutting out of work by 1530 or so to kick off the rest of the afternoon.
Here's my typical day: I rise at 0430. I shower, eat some oatmeal, make coffee, pack a lunch, leave around 0545, get to work around 0620, prepare my class materials, do a quick email check, then gather my things and go teach for three hours. My first break comes at 1005. In the beginning, I would be so fried at that point that I would sit in a colleague's office and decompress for a good half-hour. I've now grown accustomed to the energy balance (as new age as that sounds...forgive me) in my classes, and I'm comfortable before the class, and I can emit energy without giving it all away,* so I go back to my office, check email again--it's the memo system, you know--then either grade papers or begin my next class prep. As often as not, we have a WIP ("works in progress" meeting, or some other "brown bag," or "meeting over lunch"**) which I attend whenever possible. If there's no meeting, I work through lunch, munching at my desk. My next class is from 1300 - 1355. I often have students appearing at my office door for EI (Extra Instruction) after that--or during any other "free" period I have, for that matter. If I'm there and they show up, I'll help them on the spot, of course; any teacher would. If not students appear, I work on class prep and grading until I run out of steam--usually around 1700. At least twice a month, we have group physical training, and they schedule it for 1530 - 1630 on my teaching days, invariably...but at least it gets me out of there earlier. I almost always take home something to do over dinner or email myself something I need to research for a student or for my next class. I usually feel fine until about 2000, at which point I run out of steam all at once. I'm usually in bed by 2030.
* I now know what Bob Segar meant with "Every ounce of energy / You try to give away."
** Lunch meetings are indisposable, as 1130 - 1230 is the only hour of the day we can all be present. All department meetings, CGO (company grade officer) meetings, course director meetings, and MA interviews are scheduled for this hour. (We all interview applicants for the Master of Arts in English sponsorship, as The Chosen will become our colleagues.)
On my non-teaching days, I may "sleep in" until 0500. I try to run in the mornings on these days and may get to work as "late" as 0730. I'll often shut myself in my office to concentrate on paper grading and (yes) class prep. Students will come by for help, of course. Colleagues will ask second opinions on papers or come by to decompress, just like I do on occasion. We all encourage one another and listen to each other's stories. Almost every Friday, some of us gather for "Writer's Group," where we read, listen to, and give feedback on one another's work. This and the WIP meetings, among other things, remind us that we are academics and students ourselves; I find them valuable to maintain my balance and patience with my own students. On my non-teaching days, I tell myself I will be leave early but I work through lunch and usually still leave around 1700.
Like my colleagues, I'm perpetually behind on my grading. My priority is class prep. Depending upon the subject, I may spend anywhere from two to eight hours preparing for a single 55-minute lesson. I feel obligated to understand the material as fully as possible before I stand before my students and presume to expound on it, and I work to make it as understandable as possible and to find a way to engage my students. I still feel as though the results are hit and miss, but it's enough for me to walk into (and out of) the classroom knowing that, no matter how effective the lesson is, I did my best.
My weekends are more often than not absorbed with (yes) grading and class prep. However, I make time to do things with friends on most weekends. Occasionally, I go have dinner with my cousins and their kids.
The military (or military-savvy) in my audience will note I've said little or nothing about extra duties and "projects" and random suspenses. We still have those, too. We cram them in wherever we have to.
I've never loved any job like I love this one. I've never felt this passion before. I know I'm home. I hope it will get easier as I learn the basic tricks to imparting information and engaging students, but it doesn't even matter.
But is this job "posh"? That's crazy talk.
So now for some bits and bobs from yesterday. It was a good day.
I began my classes with a news announcement. Most teachers have random tidbits they use to make things more interesting: Quote of the Day, Poem of the Day, Literary Term of the Day, etc. I now avoid any "of the Day" thing because sometimes I don't have time to prepare it and my kids ask where it is. They really like a Something of the Day, but that Something becomes a responsibility I cannot maintain (note my schedule, above). I've had several ideas the kids love: Word of the Day (but we play Balderdash with it); Reason to Study Literature of the Day; Random Reading of the Day, in which I take in some random bit that struck my fancy and just read it to them--no discussion, no need to listen, even...but they do. They love to be read to.
But I digress. I toss in a news announcement because most of them are cut off from the outside world and don't have time--or interest--in what's happening outside their walls, and often because I hear something interesting in the news. Yesterday, it was: "The Democrats both gained a majority in the House and Senate yesterday, so it will be a whole new world come January; Rumsfeld stepped down as Secretary of Defense, and the moon farted."
The juxtaposition of these news stories amuse me. Guess which tidbit they wanted to know more about? :)
In one of my Freshman Comp classes, I asked how they felt about the Dems taking over Congress. Most didn't care, of course; they're eighteen. I said, "If you're a flaming liberal like I am, you're tickled pink over this." They went silent. I added, "By the way...remember what I told you about remembering your audience when you write? Well. I've been grading your last essay, and many of you have lost sight of who your audience is. If you write something that's flaming conservative, you're erred in judgement by making an assumption about your audience." Then I added, "And if you write something that's flaming liberal, you'll find that I'm flaming conservative. If you are not balanced and charitable in your writing and your treatment of your opponent, you will pay the price--either way." It's all about ethos.
About the time I switched sides to "flaming conservative," a couple of them said, "Oh!"--whew--"I knew you had to be kidding!" I don't know where they got the notion that I'm conservative, politically or any other way. On the other hand, it's good that they are completely unaware of my political leanings at all, as such notions tend to bias students for/against teachers--and this isn't about us, anyway. It's about the students and what they learn. (Apparently, most of my colleagues fail to keep their liberal notions out of the classroom; perhaps they feel the exposure is good for the students.)
So...sometime last week, I heard that my course critiques are back (the written feedback from the students), and my boss said he needed to visit my class again. I said OK...come whenever you can.
Perhaps I've mentioned this before, but my attitude regarding classroom visitors is rare. Everyone I've spoken with in the department has told me they like advance notice when someone's visiting so they can prepare a "special class." When my department head--Col Harrington--came to my class, she was shocked (and impressed) to learn that I hadn't even told my students she would be coming ('tis also the way of things to notify one's class in advance of planned visits so they can do their work and be prepared for a riveting class discussion). The way I see it, the class should do their work anyway, and if I'm doing anything special, it's for the sake of my class--not my visitors. How could I possibly get good feedback from my visitors if they don't see a normal class?
I've always despised that "look busy--the boss is coming" attitude.
So far, I've had five visitors to my classes: Dr. Torke (my course director in Freshman Comp), Maj Binns (my mentor), Col Harrington, Dr. Vargish (my Lit course director) and Maj/Lt Col McGuire (my boss, who visited twice). Every one of them was surprised I really meant it when I said "Come anytime," and every one of them effusively praised my ability to engage my students, make them laugh and think, yet maintain control (and their respect). For a while, I thought these seasoned teachers were merely praising to encourage, as such behavior is normal in the military, but after having heard "visit" reports from some of my colleagues, I've come to appreciate how unusual such unrestrained praise is.
Yesterday, Lt Col McGuire (he was promoted 1 Nov), visited my class a second time. We discussed essay topics throughout the class. (It didn't take me long to figure out that students produce far better results if you make sure they're aiming in the right direction and start them early; this is a 10-12 page research paper and it's worth a lot, so I set aside a couple of class periods to discuss it.) He was overwhelmingly impressed with the subjects my students had chosen to research, and attributed their wise choices to me (I'm not sure how I feel about that; certainly I had a little to do with it). We had a feedback session immediately afterward, and he told me I'm a natural. He's seen a lot of first-semester teachers, and many flounder. Few have the ability to command such a response as I do. Also, most of my students* gave me amazing feedback: I'm energetic and interesting; "this is the first English class I really learned something in"; "Capt Black pushes us to think"; tough but fair.
* Not all, of course. Can't please everybody. I got a few critiques of my unpredictable course organization (and they're right), a couple complained that I expect too much, and one said I was "terrible" because I expect things but don't teach them. The "terrible" student happens to be failing my class because he didn't take my advice after his first writing assignment to go to the Writing Center immediately and frequently--he is functionally illiterate--ironically, he wrote the "terrible" critique better than anything else he's written for my class.
I say all this not to brag, but to juxtapose it with how I feel about my own performance. I'm driven by self-doubt, by the notion that I'm not good enough. I'm more willing to believe negative critiques. I've always been this way. I frequently wake around 0100 and lie in the dark wondering if I'm just a two-bit hack. What do I really have to offer these kids? At the same time, I know kids don't praise their teachers unless they really mean it--particularly on "anonymous" critiques--and I know my peers aren't lying to me.
I just don't internalize praise well. On the bright side, my sense of my own shortcomings keep me hungry.
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