Wide, Wide, Wide Day

It's after 10:00 p.m. here on American's West Coast as the memories of this day tumble from my camera. The entire day felt like climbing stairs that would never end.

This semester the Tuesday students are the least excited about being in the classroom. At 10:15 in the morning they sigh and groan; learning is just so beyond what they want to do.

In the Writing Center students push their compositions across the desk toward me with the words, "Can you tell me what's wrong with this?" Silently I think, "If I can't, I wouldn't be employed here." But what I really know is what's wrong with their writing is the attitude of the writer. In the width of a second I must choose to persuade them to believe it is their job, their privilege to learn to discern what is wrong or better, what is right, about their document.

Then a late afternoon meeting; a sub-committee of the Strategic Planning Committee. Faculty, staff, and administrators comprise this "sub" group with faculty ready to revolt because they realize they are doing the job of middle managers and the teacher within each is being deprived of time to prepare to teach well, of the time to grade; of the time to nourish the academic soul that shrivels within.

I walked from the meeting, stood immediately above my office on the library balcony to capture the afternoon amphitheater. I could focus on the need to continually step-up to the task, but my sight moves slightly to the left, to the bicycle and the cyclist in the shadow. Free spirit! Riding the wind at the top of the stairs!

After an evening at the Rancho Cucamonga Public Library for a two-hour meeting, I am home. Looking over my shoulder at the wide, wide, wide day extinguished now. Listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter sing, sing, singing. She "wants a full house and a rock n roll band." She "wants passionate kisses." Me too, but tonight I'll settle for a soft pillow.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol