Sleet and snow here today, my favorite sort of weather. I am drinking coffee and trying to write, after a deeply unsatisfactory class this morning.
This is the writing class I took over mid-semester, which that's part of the issue -- adopting classes is a bit like adopting an older child, or an older dog, probably. They're already someone else's kids, they resent you, whether they say so or not, for usurping their beloved teacher (mama), everyone has issues.
Plus I totally usurped everything -- overturned everything that had been established, razed the former class to the ground, redid the entire course, remade it in my own image (all this with the former professor's blessing: she had to leave due to illness, I didn't steal her class or anything like that).
The point I set out to make is I have mostly won the class over -- I showed them in the first weeks that I knew a thing or two about the craft, that they could learn some skills.
Not everyone, though.
Well, you don't get everyone to love you. That's something I learned early in this business: not everyone will love you. It's not your job to get everyone to love you. (The other thing I learned was not every class has to be a great class.)
And not every issue is my issue -- students can have issues too.
Still, it's wearing.
I'm practicing wu wei, or trying to. Be like water. I'm no one's mama, really, and it's not my job to bring them up. It's my job to lead them to the knowledge. It's their job to learn.
And we'll just breathe awhile.