Click.
The light flicks on. My eyes shoot open to the sound of jingling keys and rustling plastic. I scan my brain to try to remember hat day it is. Yep, legs are still angling on top of one another as I am sill pressing up against the desk bar that's only a few inches above the carpet floor. My left hip is screaming at me again, no that I'm awake. It recognizes that it is sore, again. I pick up my phone to see if there's any progress at burning away the night. It's barely past 1. Six more hours of this.
----- - - - -----
It's only been a week since school had started. Two since the week long Teaching Assistant orientation. And yet, the anxiety that had built up since stepping onto the green and eagle clad campus hadn't gone away. At this point, others had already gone up to face their students, had gone to face their own anxieties, and came back to regale about their adventures under the banner of 'it wasn't too bad.' I, on the other hand, felt like a late bloomer, feeling so far behind as I had yet to face the horde. No grades to submit, no one requesting an office hour, no emails to reply to. Just waiting. Waiting for someone to need me.
Ledbetter and Finn talked about creating credibility, mainly through the use of PowerPoint and email. I saw other TAs create really engaging and creative PowerPoints in their down time. I saw emails being sent around, the occasional zero struck down in the gradebook, and yet, I haven't done anything. I was just uselessly existing in the TA space. What kind of credibility could I have based on all of that? I didn't present well enough at orientation to begin with, and now I became more uncertain if I can actually keep my promise to any of the students when I told them to email with any of their questions. Could I answer them correctly? Am I qualified to judge them when I don't know the material myself?
And as I laid enervated, smushed between my office chair and desk, with the sound of the cleaning team taking out the garbage, I had hoped half-heartedly that they would return to the room and toss me out too. After 30 minutes when I was certain they had left, as I decided to weakly limp over to light switch to turn it off, I thought about how, in this moment, I had no one to lean on again. I could've asked for help, to spend the night, to burden someone with my existence again, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. I had asked to use someone else's shower already, as much shame and embarrassment that had already brought me. I had no credibility, as an instructor or as a person.
----- - - - -----
But, #LifeGoesOn. Between sleep and watching 'Freedom Writers' so I could cry so my tears would prevent my contacts from drying out, I thought about my life before the pandemic, when I was just starting to feel comfortable and at home in my major of English. I kept putting myself in uncomfortable situations academically, which triggered domino effects throughout the rest of my life. I kept adding things. Even when at a certain point I should've stopped. I kept trying. And when I got up that morning at 7, and as I typed up my notes for Pedagogy for the next day, I wasn't as saddened by that night. As unqualified as I am, life is about trying. No one, I'd imagine, is a natural at being credible, but it's built up with effort.
I'll keep trying. Day by Day.
#LifeGoesOn
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