After a Self-imposed Sabbatical

I will return to the classroom this January. I'm trying to figure out if I should be happy or terrified by this. I feel a little of both. I took a semester off because I was swimming in cynicism. 10 years of teaching almost entirely first-year composition--and most of those 10 years in the South--will do that to you. I also wanted to get some serious writing done. Funny, about that cynicism: the summer before said sabbatical began I taught 2 summer courses. The courses and the students turned out to be among the best I've ever had. They both started at 7 AM. When I put in my request for classes this spring, I asked for that 7 AM slot again. If you're making it to class, not falling asleep, and doing good work at 7 AM, you're pretty serious about said class. It's easy to weed out the bullshit and recommend they drop, find a better slot for their schedule. I hope that I don't get much bullshit, since that's what made me so bitter. Students who, when asked why they're going to college, say, "To make money." Students who, when you're reading something brilliant, amazing, like The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, say, "I didn't do the reading for today." Students for whom revision is correcting their misspelling on their own name. Last summer I had a student from Ghana who understandably had serious issues with writing in English. But man did he work hard. While he improved greatly, he was in English 101 and probably still did not write at a level one ought to for having passed English 101, but he earned an A. At summer's end he shook my hand and said, "I have so much more confidence now. I know I can learn to write well." (he probably said "good", but whatever). I want every student to be like him. Wishful thinking for Americans.