Our violets are in bloom. The hens bless us with eggs every day. Work on my novel in progress, Soup Bones for Sorrow, is going well albeit slowly. Here on Fishbone Farm, we're reveling in Spring's rebirth.
Yesterday I submitted final grades for the spring semester. It's always a bittersweet moment. There is relief, certainly, for any semester can seem long and relentless when the sun beckons us outside. Over the winter I critiqued dozens of student essays; oftentimes I served as confidant to their words even while I corrected their spelling and syntax.
When a semester ends we exchange our good-byes. I may never see a particular student again. I may never hear the rest of his or her story, and that's where the sadness blends with relief. Their words must live on in my heart. I wish them well.
Next week I begin a new adventure. I've been fortunate to be handed the opportunity to develop a 1-week intensive humanities course titled "The "I" and "We" in Contemporary Culture." The course description states:
Where does the "I" end and the "We" begin? Every day we are inundated with subtle and not so subtle messages containing rules and pressure to conform and fit the mold of today's society. Claiming our individuality paves the way for living within the clamor, clatter, and clutter of contemporary culture. This 30-hour course provides tools and a pathway for students to discern and claim their individuality while engaging with the communities of their academic studies, chosen career, family, friends, and significant relationships.
The students will analyze selected pieces of non-fiction, fiction, poetry, social platforms, mixed media, and art. Together we'll work to gain a greater understanding of where the boundaries lie between ourselves and others. I'll hear more stories; I'll read more essays.
After class I'll return home and stroll our yard, admiring the chickens, violets, and daffodils, before heading inside to labor over my own words on the page. I look forward to the discussions. I look forward to the work.
