The day as a whole was sad, really - I had a lot of students genuinely say they were going to miss my class, which was really nice. Lots of hugs from the goofballs; one of my Taiwanese students even stopped by my office after class to give a bag of Spicy Asian Peanuts (he even added, "you know how to eat, right?" - meaning did I know I was supposed to take off the shells. He apparently knows of Gerald Fordian gaffes). A couple of students even told me they had never liked math before and now they do; I've also gotten a number of students taking Algebra II courses this next semester referred to me because "I heard you're really good at teaching kids who struggle with math." So it was a kinda over-the-top, smarmy emotional kinda day. More on that later.
Here, to provide some non-sappy levity, are some quotes from my student evaluations of my class:
"I loved this class even though it was hard for me."
"The tests were fun with the crazy characters and stuff."
"Nyet, you are awesome and I hate the lottery."
"Don't drink so much diet mountain dew."
"Now I know more ways to solve a problem."
"Nyet has a lot of good patience to stand and teach our international students. He always teaches with humorous."
"Nyet is fun, his teaching is fun. He has a lot of math game."
"I have nothing to say."
(And please don't think I'm laughing at the ESL quotes because of their ESL-ness; I find them very endearing, but you too would be hard-pressed not to find it awesome when someone says you "have a lot of math game.").
So it was a very fun morning - and I remembered that the Student Art Show at WHS took place on Thursday when I was out tutoring all over Western-Central Mass. I'll include a post of photos of some of my favorite pieces from this year and last.
Here's the more on later - as I left campus yesterday, I just got a stabbingly empty feeling. I think this was one of those days that should have clearly rung with "this is what it's all about." And it sadly just doesn't. I am glad that I helped these kids, and I do feel I made real, authentic connections with a lot of them. But then I don't. I'm just going through the motions / walking through the part / nothing seems to penetrate my (insert overt Tin Man reference here). There's a penetrating emptiness to everything that I'm doing that I just can't shake. Part of it is probably due to the "who knows what next year" factor; that everything the past couple of years has been a temporary salve to some kind of real thing to do. I feel like a refugee, I think I'm trying to say, all the while noting the dire inanity of comparing my middle class suburban plight to, say, the survivors of genocide. Which actually makes it feel all the more pointless - that I can't get off my keester to appreciate.
So the school is great and has been great; I was told repeatedly this week that I'm "making a great reputation for myself," which has the mixed effect of making me feel good that is the case but bad because it may in no time at all be rendered for naught. Square One again. And I would be moronic to fail to recognize the timing of all this with my 29th just occurring; I can't even sing along with Axl anymore. But it's that 29 and accomplished nothing (nor wanting to) buzz that renders days dark; on my long daily drives I have more than once daydreamed about happier academic days at Rice, wondering what went wrong. Let's also throw out that I saw friends Matt Kate and Jill this weekend who were all wrapped up in their application to residency talk; not that I'm jealous (as honestly as I can say anything, I will say that I'm not jealous), just that it's very easy to remember the days of walking around that skinny halled medical school, trudging through downtown boston ice-slushy streets, as a rather overt representation of hell; trapped somewhere I most certainly did not want to be and too much of a pussy to get my way out of it before I was head under water in debt.
What does all of this have to do with WHS? That even my most real of real connections, my ones with my students, ring empty. That ultimately what I'm doing is getting really good at hanging out with 15 year olds and making them feel better about themselves. Which is not a worthless thing at all; it's actually kinda beautiful (not to mention miraculous) to think that I got some artsy kids to like math; it's just that it's easy and pointless and I feel dispassionate about the whole thing and I think that maybe oh maybe oh yeah that's just it that what I do really well is feel pointless and be unhappy.
This has been whine with Nyet, bare-souled edition. Join us next week... or don't.
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