I felt as if I’d been shocked awake while sleepwalking; as if someone had opened a water cannon on me in my nightgown when a student’s blatant plagiarism made me question whether previous students’ work had also been copied and pasted from the web. Fortunately, double-checking retroactively revealed otherwise. This will teach me to grade one subject’s assignments before heading to another subject’s class. At least I’ve got fifteen minutes to remove daggers from mind and heart before gazing into the eyes of the still innocent preparatory composition students. Maybe, as a mental palate cleanser, I’ll draft the email I wish I’d received from another student who questioned why he received an F.
The Sleep Walker by Silke Savran
McBride’s tale is equal measure blistering candor and unabashed compassion. She holds the tensions of this tragic moment in time in a tender, triumphant, universe-levelling embrace and dares one to enter.
Smile. It’s a moving meditation.