Second acts

No real blowback yet on the Gwendolen thing, but I didn’t get a chance to talk with her today.  She responded to a blanket email about desk copies and P.S.’d, “Am I teaching the junior class next year?” So I wrote her about that, offering some hope for teaching the junior class in future, but not next year, and not raising the room issue yet.  I figure there is nothing to be gained by rushing in there to manage the situation. I was sure that I’d told her she probably wouldn’t teach the junior class next year, and I told her that was my memory and apologized if I was remembering wrongly or if I hadn’t been definite about it.

I picked up the literary magazine from the printer today and was pleased with the improvements in photo quality this year, but displeased to note at least three misspellings of student names–at least two of which I’m quite sure were correct in earlier proofs and which I’m further sure must have been “fixed” by the student editors.  Seriously, why would you assume that you knew how to spell someone else’s name, particularly when it’s, for example, long and Southern Indian?  We keep a copy of the directory around for exactly this purpose.

My classes all met today and went some distance toward helping me feel less depressed and mopey about the end of the year by being pains in the ass, although at least one of them made me laugh out loud, too.

And I graded a bunch of stuff, which helps.


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