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Thursday, September 29, 2011

Day 1: The End Days

Okay, so it isn't day one at all. In fact it is almost the exact opposite. It is our fourth and final year and we are already 32 long days into the semester. (People: we only have 79 more days to go!)
As this semester arrived, I found myself experiencing strange anxiety attacks throughout the summer. These moments of nervousness were firmly established from my fear of what's to come in the future. Indeed we don't know what's to come and there's always fear of the unknown. I didn't know what was in store for this semester, or next, or for that matter next fall.
Fall 2011 began and while I praised myself for staying so on top of my work and assignments thus far into the semester, I was beginning to realize how good things were going. I got excited again for actually wanting to teach and having my own classroom one day! This feeling lasted until, well, TODAY.


I sat in a classroom filled of my fellow English majors suspecting today would be like every other Tuesday/Thursday class schedule. I don't think of any of us were prepared for the brick wall we all hit.
As our professor rambled on about our current Unit Plan assignment, our heads began spinning and I swear I even witnessed some smoke emerging from a few ears. In moments of panic, we tried to ask questions, but most only pushed us further over the edge.
We crossed the hall into our next classroom together and after putting my stuff down I returned to the hallway. Upon my arrival back inside the classroom, I witnessed the small group of English majors (8 of us together in this class now), huddled around one another and shouting. Literally shouting. Hair pulling. Teary eyes. Deep breaths. It was like I witnessed a bad accident. And suddenly I found myself being swept into the storm of fury as we let out our frustrations on one another.
"One minute until class," our professor reminded us and in huffs of frustration we made our ways to our seats. As I sat there, trying to calm myself and rub away the migraine forming in my head it was then that I realized we English majors are in an precise moment of the end stages of a very problematic illness.
This illness is common and you might have even experienced it before. It's symptoms include: nervousness, anxiety, mental strain, nausea, vomiting, sleepless nights, loss of hair, lack of time, forgetfulness, lack of appetite, and occasionally strong body odor. This illness is often referred to as
I-feel-like-I-don't-know-a-damn-thing-anymore-and-I'm-doomed-to-fail-at-everything-I'll-ever-do.
Very commonly this illness spreads throughout college campuses so you should protect yourself at all costs. If you experience any of these symptoms, it's important to know that you are not alone. In fact you have an entire network of people here for moral support (hence the purpose of this blog). With that in mind, you must prepare yourself for absolute failure. It could happen, it really could. And for you to better cope with this realization, you need to know it's okay to fail. In fact, that's exactly what we all did earlier today.
Tomorrow's a new day. Although I'm still experiencing most of the symptoms from this illness, I think I'll find a cure in the future. Today was terrible. It can't get much worse than this. Eventually our symptoms will dissipate and we'll find new qualities about ourselves we didn't know we had (like the confidence to stand in front of a room full of teenagers and expect them to want to read The Great Gatsby).
I hope my message is clear: It will get better. We all have a reason for our desire to teach. In these vast moments of panic, hold onto the memories you have about your own schooling. Remember what drives you to be better. And tomorrow will be better.