Chopped

Subtitle: On giving up.

In March, Tim donated his long hair to charity. What a cool idea. What a handsome husband. I decided to do the same thing. Only I didn't want to cut my hair quite as short as he cut his. So I decided I would let mine grow a little longer.

Fast forward to late last Saturday night. I had just come out of the shower, and was trying to straighten the tangled, dry, scraggly mass that was my hair, and it was not cooperating. Looking at the wadded hairballs in the mirror, I realized that even a poor diseased child would not want this hair. No one would want this hair. Especially not me.

So, egged on by my six year old, I pulled out the scissors and cut off the messy tangled split ended bottom four inches. Then spent 15 minutes trying to cut it straight to hide the damage. It's still a little jagged along the edge -- probably should go to a professional hair cutting place to get that fixed -- but meanwhile I really like the slightly shorter hair. I don't sit on it anymore, for example. It doesn't tangle as much. I have gone two days without wearing just a ponytail. Life on the edge.

But part of me is still sad that I didn't donate to charity. It would have been such a good cause. Such a lovely idea.

I started this semester with grandiose plans. My two classes were going to be better than ever before. By revamping the entire homework system in one, and by building up a course never offered before at G.O.D. University for the other, I would develop smarter and stronger and better students than ever before.

Sometime in the last week or two I have had to stand back. The students don't realize how much better the homework is -- it's still homework to them. Many skip assignments regularly (*gasp*)! Or are inattentive when they try it. In spite of my great ideas, in practice my students are still just students, and ultimately make their own choices on whether or not to learn. And the other class? While they sympathize with the need for the whole new course, I don't know that they care much whether I'm two weeks ahead or I just finish planning the day's class with 20 minutes to spare.

Needless to say, while the ideas for the courses were beautiful at the beginning of the semester, in practice the ideas have turn into tangled wadded masses of split ends. And this past week, I have been cutting myself away from the beautiful ideas, at least emotionally, and turning back to other important tasks that need to be done.

You know, faculty who are able to step away from their teaching, keeping a healthy emotional distance, have been proven to be more successful in all areas of their career. Including their teaching. That means faculty do better if they spend less time worrying and planning and revamping homework and resuscitating ideas, and just relax and enjoy the journey. With my new scissors, I feel like I've been able to take a step back and enjoy myself more.

And it's so nice not to sit on my hair anymore.

Of course, the edges are still a little jaggy -- probably should go plan tomorrow's graduate course rather than write this. And honestly, analogies really only go so far....