A Southern Missive

After a really enjoyable and fruitful weekend of book signings in the French Quarter in New Orleans, I received great news: My children’s book, Jim Limber Davis: A Black Orphan in the Confederate White House will be part of the Accelerated Reader Program used by many schools.  This is a major coup.

I enjoyed my tour of duty this weekend, meeting some really cool (and some really strange) people. The weather cooperated this time, and though it was quite warm, there was no rain, so I was able to man a table outside the two locations: Tisket-A-Tasket on Friday and the 1850’s House on Saturday.  Best of all, I was able to sell a ton of books and set up some appointments to present my program in some schools in Mobile and other places.

This morning, I’m preparing classes and handling some other details related to my writing business. Today is my long day at the university: I won’t get home until late.

This weekend I’ll have two book signings in the French Quarter in New Orleans. Tomorrow (Friday) I’ll be at Tisket-A-Tasket and then Saturday at the Friends of the Cabildo Bookstore. Both are repeat locations for me. I sold a ton of books at both locations last visit. Other than putting up with the traffic (which admittedly is not as bad as Dallas), I always enjoy my trips to New Orleans.  I’ve learned from experience that I won’t have time for any real computer work on these trips, so this will likely be my last post until Sunday. I do always take a notebook and manage to get a few scribblings in during slow moments.  Read well and often.

Well, my university classes begin today. I’ve been running around again, doing the paperwork required. I’ve got a 102 class at Delta, 2:15 pm Mondays and Wednesdays; a 206 class at the University of Louisiana at Monroe (ULM) at 1:00 pm same days; and a 102 class at ULM starting at 5:30. Some gaps in time, but still a decent schedule. As I was handling business, I made two personal sales, and the ULM bookstore agreed to carry my books as well.  I like college teaching, certainly better than secondary school teaching, but it is still HARD work. Yet, I know I’ll meet a lot of cool people, and opportunities will come my way to promote my writing. I have an office: Room # 380 in Admin. that I’m sharing with another instructor.

As I thought about the work of teaching adjunct English, I remembered a poem I wrote about the task in a Christmas past. Here it is:

Adjunct Poem:

I am an adjunct
Mr. Staff in the catalogue
An amoebae on academia’s phylogenetic tree,
No GA to help with grading,
The lowest in pay, given the most work.
It’s not easy teaching freshman composition.

It’s the holidays . . .  So
I required my students to memorize a Merle Haggard song,
“If We Make It through December,” and we write a new carol,
“I heard the bills on Christmas Day.”
After opening the university’s Christmas bonus envelope,
(Confession: I wrote it myself and stuffed it with monopoly money)
I am inspired and gather enough cans to buy a box of stovetop dressing.
Filled with holiday cheer, I told my 102 class,
“In the spirit of Christmas, I’m giving all of you D’s.”
They thought I was kidding.
One applauded.
It’s not easy teaching freshman composition.

It’s exam time,
Like Milton, I’m going blind reading final essays,
In the room, the students come and go,
Talking of Michaelangelo,
Though they think him a Ninja turtle and hold odd positions,
I must not linger, I must read their compositions.
Cave man turned his paper in today.
I wish you could have read it.  He’s
A Neanderthal straight from Golding’s Inheritors.
“Story good. Me Likum story.”
Others think and write like model citizens in a dystopian society.
If I read one more cliché-filled paper about a high school graduation,
The winning game, having a baby, or getting saved,
You’ll read of me in the Monroe Daily Disappointment, (our local newspaper)
The naked drunken man arrested while biting trees in his yard.
My New Year’s celebrations are clouded by worry of my tax return, so
In class I launch into bombast and diatribe about excessive taxation.
A student informs me he works for the IRS.
He smiles wickedly when he asks me about his grade.
Happy New Year.
It’s not easy teaching freshman composition.