Summertime Syllabizing...

19 May 2026: Couldn't help myself and got started with some fall syllabus work, specifically for the YA Lit class. I'm including a couple of new books this time (Robertson's The Barren Grounds and Ursu's Not Quite a Ghost) and dropped some others. I reworked some assignments and gave everything a read-over, tinkering with some language in places. 

Felt good to get so much done.

I feel like I am always pushing, pushing, pushing to get ahead as "just in case," I guess. Hamilton's "Non-Stop" always plays in my head when I think about it. 

But now I am telling myself to push ahead for those reasons, but also so that maybe I'll have a lot "done" and can actually see how I really feel with nothing pressing to do. I honestly have no idea how that will feel...

Today I met (again) with a financial planner from Thrivent. He asked if I imagined myself working part-time after retirement. I told him that I didn't think so, but I also can't imagine not working. 

Is it love for the work or more of that running ahead "just in case"? Both? 

Small Things Like These

18 May 2026: Early in the spring, Randy (who I wrote about here) handed me a slim book. He remembered me saying that "Hanrahan" doesn't appear in a lot of literature. This book, Small Things Like These (by Claire Keegan), he said, had some Hanrahan in it. 

I just finished reading it and my goodness: what a book! 

I found myself thinking that it's precisely the kind of book my dad would enjoy and that we would enjoy talking about. His favorite short story, after all, was "The Dead." 

This book's answer to its central question--what do you do when you must acknowledge an travesty happening almost in plan sight?--is profoundly moral without being simple or naive. Just an absolute jewel.

Dead week meetings...

4 May 2026: I spent a big portion of today in meetings with my colleagues talking about teaching and writing. It was interesting, affirming, energizing, and just all-around wonderful. Best job in the world. 

Time to write means it's time to write...

28 April 2026: This afternoon I've been working on a chapter about reflection, critical thinking, and metacognition for our custom ENGL 101/102 textbook. 

I started work on this months ago, collecting excerpts from student writing over the past two years, diving into the scholarship, and even sketching out an outline. 

I started drafting about three weeks ago. Wrote a heck of an opening paragraph. 

And then it just sat there because I just didn't have the time to do any more. This wasn't a task I could knock out in 30 minute bursts. And I had to devote those 30 minute bursts to other tasks.

Today, though, because I have the time and because those "other tasks" are mostly done, it's time to write and I am hacking away at it. 

It's going by quickly and I am delighted by that, though I know there are at least four more drafts between now and "done." But the grading is almost done--even all caught up for now, with the last batch coming in tomorrow--and I can do this. 

It helps that this is a subject near and dear to my heart--and one that matters for our program's goals and assessment. Wading through over 100 portfolios in January made me realize, "Hmmm, we need something about reflection in the book. Guess I have to write it..."

(And yes, this post is a bit of a break from writing that chapter and yes, it's also a bit of metacognitive writing about metacognitive writing...so I better stop before I get carried away. Back to work...) 

Big Dog

10 April 2026: This is one of my favorite moments from the latest set of student paper conferences that I finished today:

I'm talking with a student whose mother has just had surgery. When the conference ends, I tell him that I hope her recovery continues to go well. I don't know why, but I wask him, "What do you call your mom? Mom? Mama? Mommy?"

He pauses for a moment.

"I actually call her 'Big Dog.'"

I burst out laughing as he adds, "Yeah, she thanked me for helping her with something and I said, 'Whatever you need, Big Dog." 

Amazing. 

Ryan and Randy

11 March 2026: This morning when I got to campus, I saw Randy, a older man who audits my classes sometimes, walking through the parking lot. We stopped and talked for a bit about fishing. 

(On Monday, Randy offered to give the other students in my American Lit class an introduction to fly fishing one Saturday. A bunch of them said they were interested. Watching this unfold, I was so touched, I said both to myself and to the student whose quiz I was returning, "Best job in the world, right?"--because my goodness, what a gift to get to see things like this happen.)

(I could write a lot about Randy and what a joy it's been to have him in class so many times--and how he reminds me of my dad.)

Anyway, this morning Randy and I talked about fishing for just a minute or so. I told him how Ryan loved fishing and how watching him tie flies was like watching an artist at work.

Always grateful for chances to talk about Ryan in happy ways, especially to people who I think he would have liked a lot--people like Randy. 

"Martha's Lady," again...

10 March 2026: “...life was such a passion and happiness of service that it was impossible not to be devout." --Jewett, "Martha's Lady"

I am getting ready to teach this story again for the first time since 2018, I think. Found myself tearing up all through it for so many reasons. It's achingly beautiful.

"Two Friends"

4 March 2026: Had a blast teaching Mary Wilkins Freeman's "Two Friends" in my seminar today, particularly its structure, what it leaves unsaid (and perhaps why), and the ways that "friend" is such a beautifully capacious word.

Legacies...

25 February 2026: Today I was working with Grady, one of my English 102 students, on his essay. It's a profile of Matt, the coach of his mountain biking team. Grady is working out how best to make the point he wants to make: that Matt has impacted so many lives. Coaching, of course, is a kind of teaching. 

And that had me thinking about teaching in general. No need to write it because I've written it so many times before but here it is again: the time I spent today in the classroom and with my students in my office? The best part of the day.

I've been thinking a lot about legacies lately; losing your dad, seeing your best friend lose her partner, and then losing a cousin in three months will do that to you. 

So, too, will a messed up world get you wondering about what difference you can make.

There are so many reasons a career in teaching is a gift, but the clearest reason is how, if you do it even kind of right, you are leaving a legacy. 

Thought about that some more this afternoon when I recognized a former student working at Walgreen's. I just had him for one semester--in English 204--but the very kind (and unprompted) things he said about that class today almost got me teary.

I kept thinking about it all as I moved to the greeting card section to pick up sympathy cards for my aunt, uncle, and cousins. And then I really got teared up, right there in Walgreen's. (Getting emotional at the pharmacy? It's happened a few times before.) 

I am not saying teaching will be my whole legacy someday, but if it's most of it? That's enough.

"Too Late"

20 February 2026: We've had a good week in my seminar (I think?), moving through a week of stories by Rose Terry Cooke. She's an author who fascinates me, but I wasn't sure if students would feel the same way. 

Of the stories we did this week (which also included "Mrs. Flint's Married Experience," "How Celia Changed Her Mind," and "Freedom Wheeler's Controvery with Providence"), "Too Late," which we discussed today, is probably the hardest sell. But I think they appreciated it--both its artistry and its enduring value. 

What a blast it's been teaching this course! 

"His Heart's Desire"

9 February 2026: What fun it was to teach Alice Dunbar-Nelson's "His Heart's Desire" today in my seminar. These students are so good at talking about this material and it continues to be a delight to teach things I've never taught before.

Long, long, busy, busy days, but those three hours this morning with my students? The best.

"Uncle Christopher's"

6 February 2026: What a blast I had today teaching Alice Cary's "Uncle Christopher's" for the first time. This story has stuck with me since I first read it for my entry on Cary in my book and I was eager to see what students would think. I knew it would be a good discussion when students were ready to tell me as I came in the room how mad it made them. Score!

Talking sports with boys...

4 February 2026: Long-ass day--like, 8:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. with essentially only an hour of alone time to get some work done. But? A pretty good day overall.

I just want to focus on/write about 90 minutes of it here: the time I spent in conferences with three ENGL 102 students. I had a blast talking with these three young men about their essays--one on Nikola Jokic, one on Mark Cuban and the Mavericks, and one on VJ Edgecomb. 

I didn't know much about the first and third topics, but I learned a lot (and am now obsessed with Jokic). It's just fun to listen to students talk about their passions and help them write about them.

Some quick math shows me that I spent 270 minutes today teaching and conferences--out of 720 minutes on campus. Those 270 minutes remind me of why it's all worth it. 

Working with Hannah...

23 January 2025: Sitting here this evening and realizing that two of the best parts of today involved worknig with Hannah. 

First, she came to my ENGL 377 class to talk about her role directing the Academic Support Center. Wild to think about how she took this class the first time I taught it. It was awesome to bask in the glow of her awesomeness as she talked about her work and tutoring and writing in general.

Second, later in the afternoon, we hopped on a Teams meeting with our amazing Director of OSP and finalized our submission of an NEA grant we worked on together.

What an absolute joy and blessing to have one of my best friends as a colleague. 

First day sunrise...

12 January 2026: It's not the best picture, but believe me: when I looked out the kitchen window this morning and saw this color in the sky, I said, "Heavens!" out loud (like a 19th-c. woman!).

It was a good first day of classes--hectic and busy, but good. I was, perhaps inevitably, still in my office when the sky turned another brilliant shade as the sun went down. But still, a good day.

Just about ready...

8 January 2026: Will never not love the look of a completed checklist. 

Syllabus pieces...

5 January 2026: For the first time in my career, I am teaching a class on (just) American women writers--ENGL 407, a seminar. Early on, I decided to focus on short stories. But my planning got behind schedule (even in my head, where I do a lot of planning) with my dad's illness and death. When I thought about the class--tried to plan it in my head--all that showed up was stress and anxiety about planning it.

About ten days ago, I sat down, went through my book, and made a big list of every story I might include. Then I took a stack of old business cards (that they gave me when I was on the Foundation board of directors) and wrote a story on the back of each one. Laid them out on my desk and started moving pieces, making piles, messing with categories. 

Here's the photo evidence of that stack--the thing that really got the process going. I think it's a cool artifact, a reminder that syllabus writing is writing. Revising, moving things around, deleting, adding...

The folded pieces are category names--which also shifted and changed. The stack with the green clip are the "bonus" stories--pieces not on the syllabus, but each student will need to pick one to write about and respond to in a short paper.  

Eventually, the process worked--or worked well enough. Schedule is crafted. Syllabus is done. Feels pretty good. 

Reading, thank-you notes, and course prep...

28 December 2025: Started the day off finishing my book club's latest novel, Food Person. I didn't love it, but I am glad to have read it and I am excited to talk about it with Kaitlyn and Cory next week. (We had to reschedule.) 

Next, I knocked out my thank-you notes. Some are for folks who sent flowers or other gifts when my dad died. The rest are for Christmas gifts. When you are feeling the way I am these days, taking the time to pick out the stationery I'll use, thinking about what to write, and addressing the correspondance is exactly the kind of work that can be satisfying and rewarding, reminding me of what I am thankful for. 

Finally, I've been working on my syllabi, particularly for ENGL 377. Making steady progress here and feeling excited about the work the students and I will take on this semester.

In between all of that, there's been walking (mostly around the house--too cold and rainy for me to venture out), movies, and TV. 

Almost got misty when I saw that Bob's Burgers reruns are on until 9:00 (and then the regular episode on Fox at 9:30). Perfect accompaniment for working through my list...

Still thinking about "What the Living Do," perhaps the perfect text for this "always strange but this year stranger than ever" time of year before the spring semester starts.

Last day of the semester...

5 December 2025: I can't write about it--too many emotions--but both of my classes gave me cards at the end of class today, packed with lovely messages of thanks and support. 

Time and again, the privilege of teaching these students almost knocks me over. 

Day one...

2 December 2025: Made it through the first 24 hours without him. Spent the day with colleagues, students, and the gang at trivia. 

Everything is so hard and sad.

But so grateful for work that means something and that makes me happy. So grateful for the kind people I spend every Tuesday evening with. 

Blessed, blessed, blessed.