Tuesday, January 13, 2009

In Which I Leave The Zoo.

All good things must come to an end. So, too, must all mediocre, cringe-inducing things (Bromance, I'm looking at you).

This semester, due to time/sanity constraints, I am no longer working at The Zoo. Instead, glutton for fun and punishment that I am, I've taken a position as a graduate teaching assistant with an undergrad government class. It is possible I am just trying to harken back to the days of coaching, or just be a little more like Funny Mean Friend. Maybe I just like seeing freshman cry. At any rate: new year, new job, new hilarious set of characters.

This position is a step up from the Zoo. There are several upsides to teaching: money, getting to hold office hours 3 hours a week in a coffee shop (I love getting paid for my coffee time), constant interjections of undergrad-style humor, etc. My supervising professor is awesome, in a way that I appreciate quite a bit more than I think his students will: he dresses like an actual hobo and swears like a sailor. Also, this time around my little beasties are better behaved, begging for treats, and less likely to fatally maul me if I turn my back, but other than that, they're tamer versions of the same old wild animals. Maybe I've graduated from Zookeeper to Circus Trainer? I'm not quite certain yet.

The first day of class is today, and I'm having a bit of first-day anxiety. Do these boots convey the proper amount of "I am in charge, and also, very competent" to you? I'm slightly concerned that they can smell my fear and total lack of teaching ability, and will exploit it. They have papers due in 2 weeks- I will let you know if this is a monkeys/Shakespeare situation, or if I have some budding intellectuals on my hands. 

On that note- I'm off! I'll keep you updated on how my monkeys minions adoring fans little darlings do. With any luck, they'll be providing blog fodder all semester long.


ImNobody: Shaping young minds and scarring young souls since 2006.


Virgin In The Volcano said...

Omg, I love seeing freshman cry too. And you get paid? Nice gig.

Molly said...

It sounds like you're going to be a fantastic teacher. Good luck!

All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson