summer school

We're more than halfway through the six-week summer session. This group is primarily upperclassmen; many have graduated and walked already, a few have a year or so left. Lots of them are student teachers and scientists. They are motivated. They are engaged. They write fairly well--some better than others, of course.

They respond to George Saunders, to William G. Perry, to the seminar format. And although I will always love something about the Compies, especially the wide-eyed ones of the fall (who, sadly, I won't see in the coming semester), it's nice to be able to roll into class at noon, throw down the reading, and say, Let's discuss. And then to actually discuss it. Using big ideas incorporated from their other coursework. And without having to ask the person in the back to stop texting.

So we have two weeks left and résumés and cover letters, and then they disappear into the world. And as they work on their bullet points and their boilerplates, we'll be loading the B's things into a UHaul and driving it through Chicago. We'll be hanging curtains and filing change-of-address forms and arranging couches.

And that's how I'll finish out the first year in Smichigan--with this group of students, and with long days in the computer lab alternated with days of packing. And then some IKEA, and then some beach.

I like summer school. Let's have it all year long.