Rain and Change

The rain is a constant drumming on the tiny patch of pavement by my front door. Hummingbirds don't care, bustle by my feeder with their vibrating bee-like wings. How lush the trees are, filling all eight panes of my window with tear-drop, ovoid and lace-edged leaves. I've been reading student responses to the poems of Tony Hoagland, Natasha Tretheway, Mary Oliver. I always hope that embedded in the stress of being a student, a little glimmer happens--a particular poem touches a student who never before interacted with poetry in that way. From their responses, it seems as if this does occur. It's why I teach. A few great teachers changed my life and my perceptions though a few did the opposite. It is my goal to value every student. I cringe when I see students humiliated or told they are incapable. We are all imperfect and learning is a process that never ends. How each of us approaches a task is highly individual. I strive to make classes meaningful for students who have no desire to be writers as well as those who do. It's not an easy task to teach, competing with text messaging and email--I understand the frustration of teachers. Even in a college class, many students have outside pressures. In the years I've been teaching, I have had a number of college students who are raising children, caring for sick parents, working full-time, or coping with their own medical challenges. I worked full-time when I was both an undergraduate and a graduate student and it was not easy. I would have gotten more out of my classes and probably put more into them as well if I didn't have to make a living. People have complicated lives. I like to think of a classroom as a place for a student to relax into learning and get excited about something outside him or herself. It's good to focus outside oneself--it's how we finally grow up. It is also good for writers to look around and see what isn't easily seen; the rabbit under the hedge, a honeybee hovering over the iris, seed pods blowing in the May breezes.