Institute: Days Five through Fourteen

My future roomie scribbled into his palm with a ballpoint pen the phrase "I CAN." This reminds him of what he is capable of. For example, when he fails miserably in the classroom and sobs uncontrollably into his hands, he smudges ink all over his face.

Remembering this motion for optimism and seeing as I, too, needed to remind myself of success, I wrote my own motivational phrase on a post-it and placed it on my desk lamp.

The note reads: "Do Not Kill Yourself."

Thanks, motivational note. Thanks, institute.

I'm grading papers and realizing that on some days I don't know if students understand what I've taught because I am apparently awful at writing clear quiz questions.

I've gotten more than one look of death from my students.

I passed out on my bed the other night. I felt my eyes cross and I lost 2 hours of consciousness. I woke up in time to fill my red lunch bag and jump on the school bus.

I am slowly getting better at this. We are 25% done with the class. Maybe by halfway I will be on top of everything. My students will then have already missed out on effectively learning half the material.

And yet, my students are lucky to have me, because without me they wouldn't have a biology teacher and wouldn't be able to take the class at all.

This is one fucked-up society.