The Softening of Emily

Something strange and perhaps horrible is happening to me: I’m softening. I’m becoming squishy, malleable, compliant, and gooey.

It happened today in 7b. I was giving The Quiz (mentioned a couple of entries ago), so between occasional shushings of the class, I had some time to think. I was thinking about a couple of the students, wondering where they’ll be in a few years, and all of a sudden it hit me: I’ve become attached to them. I care about how they do, where they’ll go, and what they’ll be like.

So I realize that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having a stake in the success of my students is probably, in most books, an extremely good thing. After all, I’m supposed to want them to do well and be successful and all that crap. It was just disturbing to have it hit me so suddenly. For the most part I try to maintain a Cox-like state of indifferent sarcasm towards the kids. And so soon after my revelations about Szolnok, this new self-discovery fills me with general feelings of self-disgust, mushiness, love for the world, tolerance, sappiness, contempt, and softness.