My First Class
I taught my very first class today, and let me tell you, it was nothing like what I anticipated. Contrary to my expectations, I did not simply stare at my students blankly for an hour. Nor did I break down crying or throw up. Indeed, I thought we had a very nice, intelligent, lively discussion on how questions of identity are and are not relevant (and are and are not dangerous) in resolving important social justice questions.
Right now, my evaluation of teaching is that is equal parts exhausting and invigorating. Despite the aforementioned success in not running out of things to say in the first half-hour, my main concern continues to be making sure I pace myself properly (this isn’t helped by my tendency to talk at something approximating Mach 3).
I do want to say that, while between many years of being a student and a few scattered experiences as a guest-teacher I had some inkling of what I was getting into — no, really, I didn’t. It is exciting though. And practice makes perfect. So next week, it’s back into the breach once again.