Underway...

The madness has begun. I've promised myself to stay ahead of it this time around. But how could even the best of them--the teachers who have learned to rise above the fray--breathe dead hippo, so to speak, and come away unaffected. Does September fool every teacher into thinking that this time everything will be under control? Are all of these conveniences I've accrued an attempt to appear in control when in reality there's no stopping the madness from taking hold? I suppose smothering oneself in the crusty, organize mess that is human interaction is what it's all about, but the armchair psychotherapist in me wonders if the role of teacher becomes misappropriated by the system, by the students in need of more than an education, by the teachers in need of more than fulfillment, for a desire for purpose in life, and society's need for control. Bell to bell, Foucault's Panopticon is in full effect.

Let the optimism reign for at least a little while. Let there be smiles on every face on campus. September: the honeymoon is meant to end.

image source: I could just scream!