And just like that, it came to an end. Someone's out of town, someone hasn't been responding to texts, I fell asleep, and so, rather unceremoniously, we each said goodbye to an undeclared tradition which I only now realize looking forward to has helped me salvage through the endless weeks of this cruel semester.
And years from now, I'll be thinking back on our little Thursday Night Equipe and posting blogs tagged as "nostalgia"... the ENGL 104 TAs, all our pseudo-serious discussions and arguments over food and drinks, revolving around whether or not "sex" actually exists, or whether it's merely another social construct born out of the distinctions made between heterosexual/homosexual acts; whether ideas can be formulated without language; whether there's any truth out there; whether the body should be dumped completely in feminist theory; how I initially cursed at the person whom I misconceived as an illiterate editor when I came across "bell hooks" in an article...
If nothing, it was a great practice of stepping out of your own bounds. Of comprehending that by trying to grasp the logic behind someone else's reasoning, you're not necessarily buying their account of reality, yet you can appreciate their understanding of the world for what it is. It's not an easy art to master, and I personally believe that educational institutions, in a manner which is strikingly similar to that of religious institutions, aim to teach us the exact opposite of this. Which is why so many professors are blacklisted even here, in a nation which boasts its allowance of free speech. Which is why I've been touched to the point that I, Ms. More-or-Less-Didn't-Attend-School-for-the-First-Three-Years-of-Her-Undergraduate-Study-Cause-I-Was-Too-Cool-for-School, have decided to continue in academia, to always have it as a part of my life, no matter how small. Not so I can "impart wisdom" (right?), but rather because I feel I learn so much just by being in a classroom full of different voices and experiences. I hear the real stuff - all that you can't find in a textbook.
I finally went ahead and cut my hair. I'd been so focused on trying to appear older than the students I was teaching that I was trying to control everything about my appearance: avoiding jeans (fail), no backpacks (fail), formal shirts (fail), wearing heels (fail), highlights (big-time fail), straight hair (almost gone)... To make a long story short, less eccentric, and more... well, credible. I realized that I'll probably never look intimidating to them (a few of my mentors actually made a point of telling me this) and, more importantly, that I didn't want to come across as domineering anyway. And now I'm rambling, because I really want to say something else, but can't bring myself to. Instead I'll pursue my endless wandering until I wear out the circular path from my heart to my head...
The English students would tell me to go for it; Crazy liberals, indeed!! But I know that I'd get more than a few (well-deserved) frowns from my Comm friends if I were to ever act upon this inconceivable impulse. So, while I sit here trying to resolve my inner conflicts in cyberspace, I'll keep listening to Francoise Hardy, remembering why it is I've always tried to speak my mind in such circumstances...
Et je serai poussière, pour toujours demain...
ps having read over this, I realize fully well just how narcissistic I come across... At least I'm open to criticism.
