Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Grading of the Papers (For my fellow teachers, because misery loves company) ...

Papers, papers everywhere, / Alas my brain did shrink, /
Papers, papers everywhere, / and not enough red ink.
(Ok, ok, so I don't actually use red ink, but I had to think of something). 
I love my job, really I do, but we have reached that point in the semester where my house is in shambles, there are dirty dishes piled in the sink, the kids (I'm pretty sure) went to bed without being bathed, and my husband had to cook dinner. All because of the grading of the papers.

I really dislike the grading of the papers. I don't mind giving concentrated feedback on writing assignments in hopes of making students better writers. I actually love walking into the classroom every day and talking about books and what makes a piece of writing (from Marlowe's Dr. Faustus to the latest editorial in the Post-Gazette) compelling. But there is something so emotionally and physically draining about the process of grading the papers that I sometimes find myself with the attention span of a two-year-old who has to decide between watching Umizoomi, playing with Play-Doh, blowing bubbles, or riding her tricycle. Big decisions.

The papers have all been graded (until I get my stack of Final Project rough drafts tomorrow). I just have to enter the grades. And what am I doing? Writing this blog post. Hmmmmm..... ~ Alice

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The Life Of Faith
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