It occurs to me that I should rename this blog. I’ve always meant to use this space to engage the topics that interest me, but I never write anything here because of my paralyzing fear of being–well, being anything.
That’s no way to live, is it, especially for someone who encourages students to write for self-discovery as much as anything. So I’m putting it out there right here, right now, for anyone who cares to know: I am a reluctant scholar.
I love teaching. I love to plan classes and assignments. I thrill at the possibilities of a pristine Moodle class. I can even admit to enjoying–truly enjoying–commenting on student writing (as long as I have space and time enough…).
I enjoy my service and administrative work; it gives me a chance to connect with colleagues and my institution in a variety of ways that are meaningful and potentially transformative. I like committee work. I enjoy contributing my knowledge and experience to help improve my school and community.
Bring up the word “scholarship,” though, and the color drains out of me. Reluctant may not be strong enough of a word, actually, to describe where I am with regard to scholarship. Don’t get me wrong: I have ideas. Loads of them. I read. I write. I talk and think and share in unmediated spaces with relative ease. I posit. I articulate. I ruminate. I just tend to do these things in ephemeral spaces.
I am reluctant to commit myself to memory.