First Day

Last week held the first day of class, and first days are always gilded in importance.

I am an adjunct professor. I have been an adjunct professor for eight years now. I never meant for a “part-time” position to last this long. Eight years. And eight years seems to imply a necessity to qualify it as “full-time,” but in my defense, I have finagled multiple “part-time” positions concurrently that have ended up demanding more time and attention than a “full-time” one. So there you have it: part-time title, part-time wages, and part-time benefits for a full-time commitment. You do the math.

Back to my point (that is if I indeed have one!) Last week was the first day of class. Originally I was going to philosophize about the first day of class, but since this is actually a thought expressed on now the fourth day of class, I figured I would allow the first week the ability to have the power of the first day. And because I have the part-time luxury, I have been able to teach at multiple facilities and more often than most full-time professors… so I have, for only eight years of teaching, witnessed the blossoming of many first weeks of classes.

For me the process is a painful one. I am a horrific ball of anxiety for about a week before about whether I’m prepared enough, is the textbook good, will the classroom suck, will the class hate me, will I hate them, will I embarrass myself, will we learn anything? The list drones on. The twenty four hours before are agonizing; I do not sleep. (Imagine if I had I high stress job!) And inevitably, all my fears are for naught. Not that those fears were unnecessary, the classrooms have sucked and the textbooks have been much less than desired, but fortunately the class hasn’t hated me and I haven’t hated them, and I have always been good for at least one whooper of an embarrassing moment… I survive, they laugh, and I usually do too. And we learn.

I think that is why I like the role of professor… the learning. Sure, I have spent more time, energy and focus than most of my students have on a topic. I have more experience with the subjects that I teach than they do, but WE learn. I am as much a learner in that classroom as they are. I have learned a wealth of things from my students. OK, some of the things I’ve learned really only confirms that potty humor crosses the age gap uniformly– I’ve had nine year old students who have been lost in the mirth of poop and I’ve had eighty two year old students who have been lost in the mirth of poop, and every age student in between. But then I’ve been witness to some of the most profound moments that illuminate our common humanity.