A yearning for some learning

The first class I ever took in college was Communications 1010. It was a public speaking course taught at 7:30 in the morning at Snow College on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I never cracked open the book, even once. But I worked hard on my speeches and came to really love the class. I was 18 years old.

Ten years later (which sometimes seems like a million) I am teaching a Communications 1010 class. It’s an introductory course taught at 10 in the morning at Southern Utah University on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’ve already spent hours in the text book. I’ve worked hard on my syllabus and I’ve already come to really love the class. I am 28 years old.

The first day of school I imagine the look on my face was somewhat similar in both 1010 classes. Bright eyes, taking everything in, excited and nervous, hoping I came across as quiet and confident. Hoping I looked like I knew what I was doing.  The roles have reversed a bit though. From brand new student to student/teacher.

And I’m so excited. My excitement levels have waxed and waned over the past few months but on Monday excitement hit an all-time high. I think it happened in the middle of teaching my first class. At some point I kept talking, but took a step back from what I was doing. I looked into the eyes of my 31 students. I saw in them what I had in me ten years ago. Excitement. Anticipation. A yearning for some learning.

Two years after my first 1010 class I quit college thinking it wasn’t for me. I quit because I didn’t think I could do it anymore. I quit to “take a semester off” knowing full well I didn’t ever want to return. Sometimes people throw around the phrase “college isn’t for everyone, you know.” And I just knew I fit that mold.

Five and a half years passed. I learned a lot when I wasn’t in school.

And then two and a half years ago, I started back to college. With bright eyes, excitement, anticipation, and a yearning for some learning. Full force. With gusto. Knowing full well that I had it in me to succeed. It was probably in me all along, I just didn’t know it. So I moved to a new town. I went to a new school. I took new classes.

And I succeeded.

I graduated from college. I got the first 4.0 GPA of my entire life.

Nobody here knew that I had once failed.

I have a tendency to succeed at Southern Utah University.

And so they’ve trusted me with 31 of my own bright eyed students.

When people ask me if I’m nervous to be teaching, I tell them I don’t have energy to be nervous. But what I really think is that I’ve been here before. I’ve done this before. I told my students yesterday that chances are I’ll understand what they go through this semester because I’ve been every kind of student. I’ve been a good student, a bad student, and everywhere in between. I’ve taken it seriously, or slept through class. I’ve been the one on the front row faithfully taking notes, and I’ve been the one not showing up when an assignment was due because I didn’t do it. I’ve been the teacher’s favorite, the one the teacher worried about, or the one the teacher didn’t think would make it in the real world.

Graduate school scares the heck out of me. Lots of reading, lots of writing, lots of big words and complicated concepts. Lots of work to do. Lots of hours to be spent on research and study. Lots of stress. Lots of Diet Coke. Lots of money. Lots of time. Lots of doubts. Lots of tired. Lots of, lots of, lots of…

But luckily I know what it’s like to succeed. And I’m pretty sure I’ll do it this time too.

And I’m going to bring some Comm 1010 students along with me.