Time flies when I have taken on a lot of work. On the one hand I love teaching. On the other, marking is a part of teaching.
I had a wonderful rant yesterday. I was lecturing on how literacy has changed our very way of being in the world, the way our psychology is shaped. I was charged up with my understanding of Ong and Havelock and a rich sense of what they meant and I flowered into the moment and engaged the students.
I've felt this before; it is the sweet moment of teaching/learning. I can reach them, hold them, and then release us from a kind of electric exchange. It is what I felt when I "saw" the golden chords reaching from my fingers and touching the students when I taught English as a Second Language in the top floor of a converted warehouse. It is what I experienced in some of my poetry classes. It has been rare for me lately as I struggled mired in enmeshing change. I love it, but I can only prepare for it; i can't command it.
It is something to do with oral rhetoric. It is a moment of wholeness and fullness. It is a psychic embrace. I am grateful for the moment and the experience. I hope they are too.
