As our teacher, perhaps the hardest part of my year was coming to grips with the realization that, no, this year's class isn't like last year's class. And it made me sad. Because last year's class was tight-knit: people were closer, we got to share more intimate stories, we got to know one another better. There was less drama, less rumors told about classmates, less personal stories shared to people outside of class, less animosity, less bitterness.
I miss that. I miss having everyone write on topic, because they want to be challenged. I miss not having to hear, "well, I didn't write on topic today, because my head hurts/I'm tired/I didn't know what to write/I just can't think straight/I've got a lot on my mind." I miss looking around at everyone and seeing everyone writing. I miss people listening while others read. I miss last year.
It's hard to see us, this year, broken up into so many cliques. It's hard to hear students complain about other students. It's hard to have a student come up to me before class and say, "I need to talk to you--it happened again--my secrets were told."
This year, our class is just another typical class. A class with work that people apparently don't want to do. Another class with rules that I didn't think I'd have to enforce--and get ignored when doing so. Another class with people not listening to one another, not respecting one another, texting while people are sharing, laughing at private jokes while others share about their grandmother dying. Just another class. Not a family.
And it's because not everyone's invested. Which I don't get. Because out of all the classes you're forced to take, this one was a choice. So why are there people in here who so obviously don't want to be here? Why did you take this class if you didn't want to learn different ways of creative writing? Why did you take this class if you didn't want to hear and appreciate the stories of other writers? Why did you take this class if you were just going to print out wikipedia articles or try and pass off your class writing as outside writing?
We may be here in class, but we're not here as a class.
Yes, we've had our good days, and we've had some wonderful stories told, and some beautiful moments. But, on the whole, it's a completely different class than what it could and should be.
And that...
well...
it makes me sad.
