I think I was waiting for the real world to happen when I was young. No waiting as anticipating and preparing for as such; more like being aware that I was horribly impractical and that one day I’d have to grow up and fend for myself. Being a kid taken care by your family is definitely not being in the real world, and there’s no tower with more ivory than the university. I suppose I’m squarely in the real world now. The realization creeps in on little cat feet rather than dawns in a moment of epiphany. It’s a pretty sad realization. It’s also pretty frustrating when you have to teach high school everyday and see how far away our kids particularly are from any awareness of that.
On the other hand, I think it’s physically impossible for me to be the nurturing, mothering sort to the kids; it just doesn’t go with the personality…or the reputation. And I’m glad that at least some of my colleagues are proponents of tough love as well. It’s as soft as it can be here.
Well, anyway, I’m not going to bite the hand that feeds me.