August 27: First Day of Teaching, Firsts, "Carol" Dip Monday

Today is the first day of the fall semester at the university.  This afternoon, I will find myself in front of a classroom of 35 or so undergrads, all looking a little bored and anxious.  Generally, on the first day of class, most students just want a copy of the syllabus and a dismissal.  I do not do that.  I keep students on the first day until almost the bitter end.  Today will be no different.  I've never found a way to speed up my day one activities.  There's the usual business of rosters and syllabi and information sheets.  Then there's the less tangible class introductions where I get students to give me a little personal information about themselves.  These introductions take a while, but it's where I can connect on a deeper level with my students.

Now, a few of my colleagues wouldn't put a whole lot of emphasis on connection, especially on the first day.  I, however, think students need to know what they're signing up for.  If I'm taking a class from Stalin, I want to know right away.  That's why I try to let a little of my personality come through.  I may come off as weird or off-balance or off-color, but at least those undergrads know what they can expect for the next few months.  I sometimes worry that I turn some people off with my sense of humor.  But I think it's better to be turned off on the first day of class, when something can be done about it, than on the last day of class, when you're turning in your final exam.

Firsts are important.  First day of school.  First impression.  First communion.  First kiss.  First birthday.  First baby.  First girlfriend or boyfriend.  First sex.  First time reading Catcher in the Rye.  First time watching Star Wars.  First job.  First Diet Mountain Dew of the morning.  First piece of chocolate.  Firsts can shape your day, week, month, life, education, employment, faith, family.  That's why I fret about the first day of teaching a classroom full of new students.

Thus, my Carol dip question for this Monday is going to be fairly predictable:

Will my first day of teaching go well?

And the answer from the Inimitable is:

"They are not torn down," cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, "they are not torn down, rings and all.  They are here:  I am here:  the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled.  They will be.  I know they will."

There we go.  Scrooge is celebrating his life.  He's dispelling the shadows of the future and fully embracing his present circumstances.  He's full of joy and hope.

Looks like Saint Marty's going to have a good first day.

Not the impression I want to make on my students