So another semester has started and this time I’m teaching. Yes sir, teaching wee freshmen to write papers in clear, logical, efficient ways so their future professors and TAs don’t tear out their hair.
On one hand, I’m doing a service because good writing is a rarity, so much so that I’m pretty positive that a number of my papers scored quite high because of the strength of my writing and not the strength of my arguments.
On the other hand, by teaching these people to write better, I am depriving TAs of silly, stupid papers to mock. What are they going to share, laugh at, and spill beer on when they’re grading term papers at the bar? Who am I to take away one of the few perks of a teaching assistantship?
(You know, besides the opportunity to develop their pedagogy, teaching experience, tuition remission, a decent stipend, health insurance, et cetera.)
Despite my usual anxiety of social situations, teaching isn’t so bad. If you plan, things are structured in a way that I can prevent the most anxious situations. Maybe I just have a good group, but there’s a lot of class camaraderie already and they seem to grasp the material, soI can’t be too shitty, right?
However, teaching does take up a significant amount of time and lengthens the completion time of your degree. However, getting an MFA in fiction doesn’t exactly set you up for a job as CEO of a Forbes 500 Story Corporation, so teaching might be a fantastic opportunity to stay engaged with your field (WORDS!) while digging your secret tunnel from the jail cell of obscurity to the freedom of book sales and accolades.
I’ll keep you apprised of my writing progress and see how much teaching really affects my productivity.
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