The Plan (teaching blog Week 5)

I think I'll go and show...the others...the plan (From "The Movie")

At the request of my students, I put "The Plan" on our course website. Of course, I do not mean "the plan" that Julia Stiles's character is refering to in Ten Things I Hate About You, because that would get me fired. But the plan I speak of feels just as spontaneously fabricated, messy, and improbable as a strategy as her idea of flashing the other team in order to score points in soccer.

It's not much of a plan, it may be embarassing, it may result in hectic havoc (go FullMetal Alechmist allegorical character names! Lieutenant Havoc!) but it'll get the job done.

The truth is, looking at their schedule, I felt overwhelmed enough to cut out a lot of reading. I fear they will not read it anyway, so assigning it will only frustrate us all. They seem so overwhelmed that I'm afraid they'll just give up on me. How to know how hard to push?

I'm not sure I can even keep up with their reading. I realized today that I'm about a day behind where I meant to be. So I emailed myself a "plan" of attack for tonight.

That plan assumes, however, that my body holds up. Ah, the Platonic division of body and mind. And soul, somewhere in there. It's in the Phaedrus, which I'd be happy to never read again. His division allows me to believe that I can divide myself. That the academic Amy, the teacher Amy is separate enough from the Chronically Ill Amy that the two have no bearing on one another. That I can have a career in Academia because thinking does not require the body.

This, of course, is ridiculous, but every time I recognize the absurdity of the division, I freak out. Which is what happened last week. Realizing that my shaking hands would not let me comment on student papers sent me into a panic mode, which only escalated the negative feedback loop, and ended up actually making me sicker. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that.

And the students suffered for it. My joking "article" about the silence on Tuesday was an attempt at humor. I'm glad Kari liked it, but I wrote it to try to get some perspective on what happened. Was it them, or was it me? Was it a strange phenomenon of the two of us (them and me) being just Off enough at the same time?

I guess silence is bound to happen. And by silence, I don't mean that positive, "We're thinking" silence. I mean that nasty, half asleep silence that indicates the students aren't getting a damn thing out of their time with me. I can't shake the feeling that I was just not prepared enough, or that had my hands not been shaking, I could have refocused the group.

But one cannot refocus a group when one cannot refocus one's self. Mom helped me refocus somewhat this weekend. Her own unsteadiness reminded me that my illness is part of me, and must be accounted for when I plan. Her insanely perfect work plans help her deal, although I think that she doesn't include the making of the plans as something she needs to plan for. Planning is stressful; it begins that cycle of adrenaline and cortisol that must be stopped before we get sicker.

This is all to say that I planned fairly accurately through Week 8 this morning. I emailed myself a To Do list that covers today and tomorrow. If I can execute this plan with few interruptions, I should not fear another attack of Student Silence.

Sorry Plato. The body and mind are tied too tightly. My mistake was believing in Western philosophy. It's time to go back to yoga and Qi Gong.

"I....dazzled him with my...Wits!"