Fourteen Years Old

Today marks the second anniversary of my teaching in Las Vegas. If I were to convert that into dog years, I’d be a teen-ager. So, what have I observed in these last two years?

1. Students show up. This seems basic, but it doesn’t always happen. There is nothing more discouraging than expecting to see fourteen smiling faces and instead see four puzzled ones. My worst experience was the summer before last when only one woman showed up. She was pleasant, and I didn’t want to cancel the Blogging class as she had gone to the effort of attending. We should have gone out for drinks. This is not something CSN encourages, however.

2.Students submit writing. This also seems basic, but it is often the case, especially in a Creative Writing class, where people are too nervous about the final assignment. I would start the class by saying, “You choose the subject and I will give you the tools you need to write it.” But sometimes they panic and to take the edge off I’ve compared it to surgery, “The week before their will be a pre-operative assessment. When in the Operating Room (OR) you will go under the knife, all eyes will be on you but you will survive.”

3. Students are willing to revise. I always get a sinking feeling when someone hands out a story to be critiqued and says, “This is my first and final draft.” The fact is, you could always find ways to improve it. There is always something to say and it’s not always right, but a lot of the times it is. Several of my students this term have done a masterful job of revising, and have brought their stories up to a publishable level, which brings me to the next point…

4. The students are serious about their craft. Yes, this is continuing education and no one gets grades and no one, probably, is going to get thrown out of class. And yet, especially in the classes I taught this semester, I was struck by how seriously the students approached their writing. This is not a hobby. This is something heartfelt and beautiful.

5. The students like each other. It is very hard to teach a class in which students feel contempt for one another or just don’t care about each other. One of my more discouraging moments came once in a class when a man read an absolutely harrowing story about physical abuse and another man sitting behind him, for seven straight weeks, said to him, “And what’s your name?” Jarred, what felt like a walnut was lodged in my throat, I needed several minutes to compose myself and resume to speak. The best case scenario is what I saw last week as I approached my room, students forming friendships, talking, discussing and laughing, it made my heart sing. I hope that they will form a bond and continue after the class is over, and form writing groups. Or that they will re-enroll.

6. The students like me. Well, I won’t go into that at length, except to say I have faced down my share of steely looks in the past, and it is much nicer to see a smile. And I enjoy when students participate and tell me what’s on their minds. More importantly through their stories they have trusted me enough to share very personal information–and that’s an honor.

It’s been a great ride and I can’t wait to see where it goes.