For the Hats

I'm in that particularly nasty stretch between, well, now and the rest of the semester. Wait, let me try that again. What I mean specifically is that time towards the end of the semester with the holidays looming and so are papers to be graded; when emotions are high and so is anxiety and sleep is at a minimum. My husband had to wake me up last night because I was teaching my English classes, apparently rather loudly, in my sleep.

I'm stressed. I've been stressed since the beginning of October. Okay, since the second week of classes, but this level since around the beginning of October. I've effectively annihilated (and I'm so tired I couldn't even spell annilate...annihlated, ...annihilated...that word) the concept of "free" time. I might take time to do other things other than work, but my brain is in knots the entire time. I cried more this past weekend than I have in the past three month. I'm tired, stressed, and self-doubting. Maybe I'm not a teacher. Maybe I'm not a writer. Maybe I'm just a girl who's merely trying on different hats and none of them really suit her.

I

I don't know, I think I have some talent running around here somewhere, and as soon as I can find it, I'll be alright. I do know that I'm not the only one that feels this way; that at this festive season of the year teachers everywhere are doubting themselves, accusing themselves, and all but contemplating a Last Leap as they consider the papers to be yet graded, and the wisdom to be imparted to individuals as reluctant to receive as those to give it.

But this is what I know too: It's the end of the semester and semesters do end. There will be some students who think of us fondly, and others that don't. There are students who will be passed, and those that won't, and believe it or not, it's going to be okay.

This much I know, and I'll keep reminding myself, and others, of that as much as necessary until the end. Here's to the hats.