It is not only your seat in the classroom that you are trying to find…to establish. It is also, more importantly, your place…

The thrill of the first week, the first semester has, as B. B. King sang with the sway of the head and the stroke of the guitar, gone away. Since then I have been reflecting on my behavior and engagement, examining my fit and function in the classroom and beyond. This semester I am feeling out of place and awkward. My voice seems much louder than necessary, cracking and stretching at the corners: threadbare and thirsty. The sound never quite articulates the meaning. The words seem insufficient and the logic they hold unravels in midair. I raise my hand and lose the point I intended to make. I am reaching…reaching, in every sense of the word.

I have tried out all these ideas and techniques, wore them like jackets from a thrift shop. I have traveled roads less and frequently taken. Felt dexterous, confused, challenged, hesitant, confident… Been gawked at, laughed at, criticized, and, even, complimented. My final destination, if there is one, has always been, will be somewhere “where the sidewalk ends.” As I try on and test out different ideas and techniques, I am mapping my way to and constructing the meaning of the what, where, who, and why of my life and career.

It is like that song by Lauryn Hill: “I had to lose myself to love you better.” In that loss of self, in the loving, I am finding a fit, a place…

…together in the struggle…

…until next write…