The Third Time is the Charm
This is the third time I have tried to blog this week. If all goes well I’ll be able to get this out before some computer freakazoid thing happens again.
I've been working hard every day of my life this semester, and when I wonder about it I remember this tutoring class is the biggest culprit of all the time-hogging "activities" I have to do. My once a week work shift is always packed full of tutoring opprtunities and projects while my evenings are spent reading and writing and reading writing about writing. My only consolation is that I come in handy despite all my defects. (I don't regret at all being a tutor).
I really enjoy tutoring and feeling like I am really making good use of my time, and others, while I'm in school but some days I just need to take a breather and feel like I am actually learning and not just filling myself up beyond my maximum capacity with information. Not that the tutoring class is too much information but on top of the thirteen other credit hours I have it is a lot for my platter. I don't remember ever feeling this helped, helpful and helpless in my life.
This action-packed semester-o-fun has already been sending me on enough Roller Coaster rides to last me a lifetime. Five weeks into the semester and I have just enough time to get by without an emotional breakdown. Well, I'm not sure I would break down but I certainly have some things I could cry about if I wanted to. I do love my classes and they are all about my favorite things; ceramics, photography, art history, adolescents, oh, and writing, can't forget that. I may be in over my head but that's okay, I'm learning how to swim.
Speaking of swimming, my time at the university has taught me how to swim by trial and error in academic writing. I don't really know how I've learned to write on an academic level. Maybe I haven't learned yet, but when I first started I was told to do things a certain way. I hated to think I should just write what I was told to write when I didn't want to even have an opinion about such things. My refusal to conform to the mold I thought I was supposed to make myself fit into turned out to be what I should do. I was making my own mold by writing what I wanted to say in my own way. I was just told to be better at it after that and that's what I've been working on ever since. But as a former English major, I got sick of writing and sick of feeling like I had to find something to say and say it in writing.
Now that the focus of my classes is no longer on writing, I have something to say and I don't mind saying it. However, it may not make much sense these days due to a small amount of brain power that must be spread over many subjects and focuses. And that's all I have to say about that.
I've been working hard every day of my life this semester, and when I wonder about it I remember this tutoring class is the biggest culprit of all the time-hogging "activities" I have to do. My once a week work shift is always packed full of tutoring opprtunities and projects while my evenings are spent reading and writing and reading writing about writing. My only consolation is that I come in handy despite all my defects. (I don't regret at all being a tutor).
I really enjoy tutoring and feeling like I am really making good use of my time, and others, while I'm in school but some days I just need to take a breather and feel like I am actually learning and not just filling myself up beyond my maximum capacity with information. Not that the tutoring class is too much information but on top of the thirteen other credit hours I have it is a lot for my platter. I don't remember ever feeling this helped, helpful and helpless in my life.
This action-packed semester-o-fun has already been sending me on enough Roller Coaster rides to last me a lifetime. Five weeks into the semester and I have just enough time to get by without an emotional breakdown. Well, I'm not sure I would break down but I certainly have some things I could cry about if I wanted to. I do love my classes and they are all about my favorite things; ceramics, photography, art history, adolescents, oh, and writing, can't forget that. I may be in over my head but that's okay, I'm learning how to swim.
Speaking of swimming, my time at the university has taught me how to swim by trial and error in academic writing. I don't really know how I've learned to write on an academic level. Maybe I haven't learned yet, but when I first started I was told to do things a certain way. I hated to think I should just write what I was told to write when I didn't want to even have an opinion about such things. My refusal to conform to the mold I thought I was supposed to make myself fit into turned out to be what I should do. I was making my own mold by writing what I wanted to say in my own way. I was just told to be better at it after that and that's what I've been working on ever since. But as a former English major, I got sick of writing and sick of feeling like I had to find something to say and say it in writing.
Now that the focus of my classes is no longer on writing, I have something to say and I don't mind saying it. However, it may not make much sense these days due to a small amount of brain power that must be spread over many subjects and focuses. And that's all I have to say about that.
posted by Anonymous at 4:51 PM
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