I Showed My Ass
I WISH I hadn't done it. But I botched up the lecture on the sex differentiation process during fetal development and a STUDENT had to stop me. She was VERY sweet and VERY polite and she said, "Um, you're telling us that it's genetic, than hormonal, then gonadal. But the book says it's genetic, gonadal, then hormonal. I guess the hormones trigger the development of the gonads?" She was right. And I was so horrified. I have taught this lesson FIVE times now (tonight was the sixth) and I have NEVER effed it up like that. And of course, what with my recent obsession with snarky course evaluations, all I saw in front of my eyes was "She was the most psychotic professor I have ever had," or "Clearly needs Ritalin - she's a total spaz." Or the one that makes my heart stop:
She doesn't know what the hell she's talking about.
It's only our third class meeting, I feel like I lost TONS of credibility. And here I thought sleep deprivation only effed with your short term memory - at the beginning of the class I'm taking right before the one I teach, I handed a friend a pen. I have zero recollection of that. She handed it back to me at the end of the 3-hour class and I looked at her like she was crazy. "Why are you giving me that?" She said, quite politely, "You gave it to me." It was a generic Bic pen. "No, I didn't." Still polite she said, "Teacher Lady. Really. You did." I took the pen. I still feel like I stole it. My point? Sleep deprivation also effs with your long-term memory, too.
I made a HUGE second mistake and explained gender, gender identity and gender role completely backwards. Mixed them all up. And I had my notes right in front of me, and I felt like I was reading Latin whenever I tried to look at them, so I was just "wingin' it." After I was able to focus on my notes and realize I had taught them something wrong for the SECOND time in about, oh, 25 minutes, I showed my ass. That's when I gave my speech. And throughout the class, I just kept making mistakes (at least not you know, informational ones - more like being unable to speak basic English words, differentiating between left and right, and failing to understand a group's clever joke about the activity we did. Like literally. They had to EXPLAIN the joke to me. Normally, that's not the case.) And after each flub, I would then shake my head and mutter to myself, "You need to call it a night."
WHY did this happen during the THIRD class meeting? If this had happened in 6 weeks, at least I'd have a little credibility and they'd know I wasn't a complete idiot. And I was talking quickly and having trouble saying basic words and now all I can think is, they're going to write, "Total spaz who should not be permitted in the classroom."
And to make matters WORSE I looked even MORE like a spaz and told them (quickly) all the details of my personal life regarding said move. I even told them I think we have a ghost in our new place, which I don't even WANT to believe, but some weird things happening just make me wonder. I do not want to be THAT professor. The one who uses his "Adult Development in Education" course to talk about his divorce as "meaningful real-life examples." And if the divorce weren't bad enough, he then talks about the DETAILS of the divorce. I've had a few of those professors. And nobody likes or respects them and CERTAINLY nobody wants to be them. I am so wired, and so jittery, and so distracted and disoriented that I wouldn't be surprised if they thought I was a cocaine addict. Spazzing out in class tonight was NOT professional and ALL the professors I admire and respect would have NEVER done that. NE. VER. Not in a million years. In a nutshell, I acted like a high-strung poodle and did everything a high-strung poodle would do expect piddle on the new carpet.
Really. I showed my ass.
Labels: Baby's First Breakdown