I've lived with myself long enough to know that it's not my teachers fault. So, when "Lloyd", one row up and one seat to the left turns around in class to stage whisper "if everyone is having a hard time with the project, it proves he's not a good teacher!" I have a hard time not blurting out " well, I haven't actually been prioritizing this class the way that I obviously need to" or "half the class learned how to cite in MLA format in high-school" or "don't be such a rude jerk". I mumble something about my not prioritizing, and turn my attention back to the teacher. He's apologizing for berating us on our poor citation skills and giving us a quick overview of the method, telling us again which websites to refer to.
What he's said has hit home though, and a part of my mind runs over why I didn't do this assignment correctly. I did it last minute, it was close to bedtime, Taz was melting down and I finished as quickly as I could, knowing it wasn't exactly in format but thinking it didn't really matter. Also, no matter what people say, I've realized recently that I don't actually believe it's important to follow instructions precisely. There are lot's of phrases that sum up my attitude, "in the ball park", "the gist of it", "the general idea", you get the picture. Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. Enough.
I've spent the last 12 years trying to develop the personal business skills that are required to do something as monumentally hoop jumping as graduating from university. The first few years I gave myself art project assignments, ones that I was already interested in and already doing. I practiced getting to work on time, not calling out sick, following through on home care tasks like making food regularly and cleaning the dishes. If these small steps sound laughable to you, congratulations, you're ahead of me on the grown up scale. Maybe you should write a blog outlining how you did it, to help people who struggle with every step they take toward adulthood, like I have.
When I finally got to a point where this all felt second nature (and there was a shove from life that seemed to make it absolutely necessary) I jumped into the secondary education canoe again. I paddled my way through introductory courses for health, anthropology, and environmental science. I portaged the uninviting landscape of choosing a career path. I forged ahead through the summer semester, taking a full load in block classes and ended up here, in English 2010, with a 20 page research paper to write, an analysis on the symbolism in Shakespeare's Macbeth, and a couple of other in-class analyses/essays to write in the next 3 weeks. I'm drowning in homework and consistently giving my English assignments the short end of the stick when it comes to my time and attention.
What this all really means is that it's time to start from the beginning again; time to practice the follow through skills that are the building blocks of accomplishing goals. It's not about finding a topic that I'm passionate about. It's not about finding the right teacher with the right teaching style. It's about me prioritizing my homework, following through on the details of my assignments and letting other things, like the dishes, and Loyd's unwanted in-class comments go for the time being. It's about being flexible, creative and compassionate--with myself, my homework, my family and my teacher. And Lloyd.
And, Lloyd, it's also about not being a rude jerk.
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