My roommates and I celebrated the first day of classes in stereotypical graduate student fashion. I knew there was a reason I try to avoid “the usual!” With these two, however, the entertainment was extraordinary: superimpose the antics of county fair humor and you get the picture.
Meanwhile, I don’t yet know my students reaction to having me as a teacher. I always assume that inside themselves, at least some of them are having an autonomic, gut-level surge of electrical zing, which – if visualized – might make them look something like this chicken.
This semester began with a bang: teaching two classes in one afternoon. Within hours they’ve begun to blur in my mind: both are writing, although at different levels (freshfolk, juniors) with particular curriculums (general academic writing, writing for the discipline of Communication), but the foundational goals of each involve building critical thinking skills and developing rhetorical voice.
I wish I had the text of the lyrics that accompanied Humphrey Dumpty during the excellent marionette show, as he recited the lessons he learned from his Uncle’s terrible mishap with a wall.
Somehow, the carnivalesque nature of the County Fair was a perfect prelude to the start of this semester.