What I've Gotten Myself Into

So apparently there's a comparative religion course at IVCC. Who knew? The teacher, a guy named Jason, emailed me a week or ten days ago and said that he'd heard I'm Mormon. News travels fast, eh? Anyway, he was wondering if I'd be willing to give an hour-long presentation on the LDS church to his class and anyone else who might want to show up. I said yes and didn't think much about it. We've got spring break coming up and I figured one Friday after that, I'd be happy to say a few things about the Book of Mormon, not drinking alcohol, and good hygiene. Well, the teacher asked if I could do it this coming Friday. I said no because I'm already committed to helping out with another teacher's project, the National Day of Writing. So instead of saying, "Well, we'll just try again after spring break," he said, "How about Wednesday?"

So now I'm scheduled to say my bit this Wednesday at noon. I got a stack of pamphlets and copies of the Book of Mormon from the missionaries on Sunday and I've been rolling ideas around in my head for the last couple of days.

I served a two-year mission, have extensive experience teaching in church, feel extremely comfortable in front of groups of people, and feel like I'll probably be in front of a generous audience - and yet I'm pretty scared. I've been the only Mormon in plenty of places - work, school, etc. But for some reason, this place seems different. It's not just that I'm the only Mormon at work, I'm practically the only LDS guy in the entire valley. Most of my students have never met or come into any kind of proximity with a Mormon before. I suddenly feel a pressure I don't think I've ever experienced.

Plus, I'm worried about some slightly-better-read student or faculty member asking about polygamy, blacks and the Priesthood, or gays and marriage. Some answers I have, some I don't. And some answers I have but I don't really feel like sharing at work with people with whom I have to sit in committee meetings. I guess I shouldn't be worried. It's just that it's strange to combine work and religion, especially in such a public manner.

I'll let you know how it goes.

My Day So Far

The house in the morning light. I'm about to pull out and head for work.



The misty fields across the street from our place. It's warm today and there's a lot of moisture in the air.



Breakfast.



The sign where I turn in.




The front entrance.




English 1001 busily working in pairs, looking at comparison and contrast essays, trying to determine thesis statements.




Members of English 1002 look warily on, wondering what I have up my sleeve for them today. (Thesis statements!)




The sunlit hall leading to my office.




A view of our little courtyard in the center of campus.



The Nerdery a.k.a. my office. Note the bank of action figures above the desk.

The Sweet Smell of Success

As the inimitable Debbie Hunt of Singles fame once said, "Desperation is the world's worst cologne." Too true, I think. People can smell desperation the way animals can smell fear and the way I can smell fried pastry in the next county. And it's not a good smell, folks. (Desperation, not the fried pastry. Anything doughnut-like smells like heaven to me.)

Desperation is the main ingredient in the ironically titled film, The Sweet Smell of Success. Press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) is desperate to get his client's names in the papers. Powerful columnist J.J. Hunsaker (Burt Lancaster) is desperate to get his beloved little sister away from a boyfriend he doesn't approve of. Susan Hunsaker is desperate to get out from under the withering influence of her overbearing brother.



It's a prescient film in a lot of ways, accurately demonstrating the consequences of a celebrity/media/ego-centered society. It could just as easily be set in today's world, only instead of being a Walter Winchell-inspired columnist, J.J. Hunsaker might be a celebrity blogger or work for TMZ.

As a film, it's plenty flawed. It won't be one I'll return to anytime soon but, for what it was, it was worth watching.

Random Thought #1 - Maybe Tony Curtis is just small but Burt Lancaster looked like an absolute gorilla next to him. The guy's shoulders looked to be about seven feet wide. Was he really that big?

Random Bit o' Trivia #1 - Susan Harrison, who played Susan Hunsaker, is the mother of Darva Conger, the woman who got married on Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire. Small world, eh?

Because They Please Me

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Late Night

It's late so this won't be long. I just finished a stack of eleven 1002 papers. A couple were really good, a couple were really bad, and the rest were somewhere in the middle - all of which is pretty typical.

Sometimes when I grade, I just feel guilty because I must not be giving the students everything they need. I must not be because otherwise they wouldn't suck so bad, you know? I think I assume too much and take the easy road too often. I think some students get left behind because I take the "oh, you should have learned this by now" approach in class.

I think I'm a pretty good teacher most of the time. I've been blessed with a knack for explaining abstract concepts in concrete terms. I try to be compassionate about my students' struggles. I try to be funny and nice. But sometimes, I feel like I'm a big faker and that some members of my classes would be better off if they had a real instructor, you know?

Most of my teacher friends have told me they feel the same way now and then so I know I'm not alone. I also know that I'm tired and discouraged at having had to hand out a couple of D's in this last stack of papers. That's never a good state of mind in which to assess one's career and abilities.

So rather than worry myself over it any more, I'm going to bed. It's been a long day and I could use the rest.

P.S. I watched almost all of the finale of "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelor: After the Final Rose" tonight and that's enough to make even the happiest of people feel like the human race is swiftly approaching its end as a good, productive force in the world. Eecchhh. My spiritual malaise proably has more to do with me watching that useless piece of garbage than any grade I could ever give a student.