2012-12-05 - 12:15 p.m.

Teaching my last college writing class tonight, and it may be the last for a long time. It's the grading. I thought it would get easier, or that I could do it more quickly, that I wouldn't come to dread each and every 8-pager, but it has never turned the corner. I suspect that's just how it is, for every teacher in the world.

But: my, what a class to teach. They write from the heart, and that's not so bad. This week, of the three long essays the class has read and will discuss tonight, we've got:

- A 20-year-old writing about coming out of the closet
- A 21-year-old girl writing about how she was raped when she was 16.

It's tough stuff, but I've got to admire the guts. So, I'll tread lightly, applaud the courage, and try to help them see the writing-parts, and how they can make their work a little better.

I wish I could give some of these people a hug, really, but that's not what this particular exercise is all about.

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