Lines from poetry sometimes pop into my mind at appropriate moments throughout my day. Often they deal with some element of my life at the moment. Frequently, the lines are from the poetry of Walt Whitman (a personal favorite--probably for this very reason). One poem in particular comes to mind often both as a student and as a teacher:
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
The line "How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick ..." worries me as a teacher and often describes me as a student. I'm having trouble keeping my mind in the game this term, more so than I have since I started taking classes again. I have become unaccountable. Perhaps I need to look around for the stars.
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
The line "How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick ..." worries me as a teacher and often describes me as a student. I'm having trouble keeping my mind in the game this term, more so than I have since I started taking classes again. I have become unaccountable. Perhaps I need to look around for the stars.
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