Done
Well, it's done. No, not the paper I was working on, but the semester. I had fourteen pages written, with no real conclusion, no main point -- but I had to turn it in because the buildings were closing and my teacher called "Enough." I spent all yesterday kicking myself. I had a chance for an A in every class this semester -- I needed a 91 on the paper to get an A. But it's two days late and woefully short, and she'd have to be on crack to give it a 91. Luckily, I just need a 25 to pass the class with a C-. How far the mighty have fallen! I went from a potential A to a probably C- in the space of two short days.
But you know, I'm okay with it. Yes, I will have 11 As and 1 C- on my transcript. And what do people use that transcript for, I ask you? A school may or may not look at it when hiring me, because what's really important is the student teaching portion of all of this. And I intend to kick student teaching ass.
I can bear the C. This semester was crazy tough. I was overloaded anyway, and it occurred to me this morning that I have been overloaded since last January. I took five graduate classes last semester, two over the summer, and five this semester. I worked for my mother. I took four on-call shifts each month. I took two major teaching exams. This was a marathon, and I took a tumble at the end and lost my lead. Who cares? I finished. And that one C (which I don't even know that I got) does not in anyway neutralize my As. I will still have a 3.8 average.
What's more important is what I have learned this semester. Not content, of course -- I never retain any actual subject matter. I learned a lot about myself. Some of it was not pleasant, but all of it was helpful.
I did an on-line tarot reading a few weeks ago, just for fun (no, really!) and the card that came up for my "challenge" was Death. Don't be scared, gentle reader -- it does not indicate that I am going to die. With this deck, the Death card means accepting the end of something, letting it go. I wondered what that could mean last week; I had forgotten that the semester was going to end. I kept thinking, "Should I let go of my writing dream? Let go of the baby dream?" Questions that indicate that I was taking my fun reading just a tad too seriously, because I will NEVER let go of those dreams.
And then classes ended. And then this paper hung on and on, and I kept writing and writing but the pages never seemed to get any fatter. So yesterday, when my professor was like, "Why don't you just give me what you've got and let it go?" I thought, Oh. Uh-huh. I get it now.
I'm left with a sense of relief, a little regret, and a whole lot of excitement at the next chapter. I've got six weeks to get ready for student teaching. I'm cleaning today, and decorating for Christmas, and missing my sister, and readying for visits with family. Last night, I started writing the Bridge set-piece for my story, and I like where it's going.
When I was a camp counselor, I used to get sent at least one or two homesick campers per week. It was like I was the designated homesick-camper-counselor. And I used to have them hold up their pinky finger and look at the lines on it. "See that little line right there?" I'd say. "Out of your whole life, that little line is one year. And in that little line is a little dot. And that little dot is one week of camp. Can you even see that dot? I can't. Not when I look at your whole life."
One little C out of a whole life of learning and growing. Y'know, it ain't so bad.
But you know, I'm okay with it. Yes, I will have 11 As and 1 C- on my transcript. And what do people use that transcript for, I ask you? A school may or may not look at it when hiring me, because what's really important is the student teaching portion of all of this. And I intend to kick student teaching ass.
I can bear the C. This semester was crazy tough. I was overloaded anyway, and it occurred to me this morning that I have been overloaded since last January. I took five graduate classes last semester, two over the summer, and five this semester. I worked for my mother. I took four on-call shifts each month. I took two major teaching exams. This was a marathon, and I took a tumble at the end and lost my lead. Who cares? I finished. And that one C (which I don't even know that I got) does not in anyway neutralize my As. I will still have a 3.8 average.
What's more important is what I have learned this semester. Not content, of course -- I never retain any actual subject matter. I learned a lot about myself. Some of it was not pleasant, but all of it was helpful.
I did an on-line tarot reading a few weeks ago, just for fun (no, really!) and the card that came up for my "challenge" was Death. Don't be scared, gentle reader -- it does not indicate that I am going to die. With this deck, the Death card means accepting the end of something, letting it go. I wondered what that could mean last week; I had forgotten that the semester was going to end. I kept thinking, "Should I let go of my writing dream? Let go of the baby dream?" Questions that indicate that I was taking my fun reading just a tad too seriously, because I will NEVER let go of those dreams.
And then classes ended. And then this paper hung on and on, and I kept writing and writing but the pages never seemed to get any fatter. So yesterday, when my professor was like, "Why don't you just give me what you've got and let it go?" I thought, Oh. Uh-huh. I get it now.
I'm left with a sense of relief, a little regret, and a whole lot of excitement at the next chapter. I've got six weeks to get ready for student teaching. I'm cleaning today, and decorating for Christmas, and missing my sister, and readying for visits with family. Last night, I started writing the Bridge set-piece for my story, and I like where it's going.
When I was a camp counselor, I used to get sent at least one or two homesick campers per week. It was like I was the designated homesick-camper-counselor. And I used to have them hold up their pinky finger and look at the lines on it. "See that little line right there?" I'd say. "Out of your whole life, that little line is one year. And in that little line is a little dot. And that little dot is one week of camp. Can you even see that dot? I can't. Not when I look at your whole life."
One little C out of a whole life of learning and growing. Y'know, it ain't so bad.
posted by Tierant at Saturday, December 17, 2005
3 Comments:
I totally C what you're saying? Why should you let a little C get you down? 'specially when you've got all those lovely A's. Congratulations darling sister on learning that one "average" grade ain't the end of the world!
a C? A C? My God almighty, you can't have A C! This is wholly, completely, and totally unacceptable. In fact, as soon as I find my thigh-high shiny patent leather academic Nazi boots, I'm going to goosestep my self out there and you'll be the first one up against the wall. A c!
*Sarcasm disclaimer noted. My boots aren't really all that shiny*
Maybe Death is to signal letting go of overcommitting, and that you'll still be a complete, whole, and wonderful person even if you're not doing everything humanly possible at every single minute. Or you've got a brain tumor. Definitely one of those two.
It's not a tumor...
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