Are They Talking About Me?

thegrumpyacademic — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 14:12:23 +0000

All too often I have to stop and regroup. A couple of students in the corner there, talking amongst themselves. They’re laughing–giggling really–and occasionally glancing up at me. Are they pretending to pay attention as they mock my shoes or my accent or the booger hanging loosely from my nose? Did I dribble ever so little on my khakis as I zipped up a the urinal, the tell-tale spotting suggesting a gradual loosening of the kegel muscle? Or, perhaps more likely, they have almost no idea that I’m in the room. I could be anyone standing at the front–a background screen, white noise, to their overbearing narcissism.

What’s so funny, I want to ask. So I do. The class grinds to a halt, as if it could go any more slowly. “What’s so funny? How about sharing with the rest of us?” I sound like a high school teacher, but I don’t care. Not only did they stop my flow–and I do at times have prodigious flow–but they have stepped over into the realm of rudeness. This I cannot abide. I will suffer most indignities, but rudeness in the classroom sends me over the edge.

At yet, who is the narcissist here? The giggling 18-year olds, or me: the wannabe in front of the classroom, spouting off, half paranoid that my dick is hanging out, teaching nothing so much as my own ignorance?

The Grumpy Academic » Paranoia

Are They Talking About Me?