i found your entry and decided to read through it and do the editing that you, no doubt, would have done yourself if given the opportunity. i corrected the title and kept moving. i got hung up at your self-depricating paranthetical confession but realized the claim was unfounded and moved on. i resisted the urge to respell "fricken" to the more widely accepted "friggin'" but decided that, alas, neither are probably anywhere near the oed and will, for that reason, not be held against us. i realized the erroneous spelling of "napoleon" actually lended more to the comedic effect and thus revised my previous revision to your title. after much overthinking, it dawned on me that i was doing just that. what i failed to recognize is that this blog entry (and every other) is not a 101 paper. we are not advancing claims or proving theses. there are no supporting points or bits of analyzed evidence from some nobler text. additionally, i came to the conclusion that while i might not really be helping my students, who are still determined to fail each of their papers and my class en toto, they are helping me. and not in a mr. holland's opus way, in a "never let go" titanic way. you see (silly awkward 101 metaphor ahead, save yourself now), my students are on the door floating in the icy water. i, poor but strikingly handsome and shabby chic, have attempted to show them the world outside their dorm rooms, i have drawn them pretty pictures and given them a voice. in return, they climb up on the door and say the things i need to hear. things like "i am going to take this draft more seriously" and "i know what i've been doing wrong." as soon as i get excited, they let me go. let my icy body slip below the surface of the water. thanks, kids. thanks a lot. so...you may ask what this has to do with the blog or life in general, but i think what it really boils down to is a girl on the edge. on monday i returned 11 failing papers and asked them to resubmit on wednesday. they are on the door, holding my hand. and i'm hopeful. tomorrow at noon, i will know whether i have a chance of making it into the boat. also, and this is just a little thing (read: really big thing), pat is observing my class tomorrow for the first and possibly only time. your timing, pat, is perfect. bring popcorn.
my classroom looks nothing like this.
oh, and, my students are certainly not doing that horrible gasping sob when they let go of my hand. that's for sure.