Independence Hurts

I’m not so much hurting as I am fearing. I am used to feeding off of the energy of my peers in a given classroom situation. I read the work and keep up with whatever assignments go along with the course. I contribute to discussion and in turn, feel like I’m learning something. But in this independent study thing, I’m afraid I’ll get my ass handed to me. I can no longer merely “contribute to discussion,” no, I must create the discussion, taking notes on what I have to say about the things that I’m reading. I sit less than three feet across a table from my professor, and she can see every single word I write in my notebook as I write it. This makes me nervous. It makes me want to not take any notes. But if I don’t take any notes, how will I learn anything? This is going to be a difficult semester. And I don’t think I will take an independent study ever again. Unless I do it with a few other people, but then it’s not independent, is it?

My other two workshops bode well, provided that the Ekphrasis class gets a new room. Last night, the sound of the air vent was so distracting that even though I could mostly hear the words that were spoken, nothing sank in through that noise. I’m looking forward to doing a lot of writing of the poetry, which has been lacking in my life lately. I’m not so much looking forward to the reading of the insane amount of books and digestion of said books all by myself for my independent study. With luck, I will keep my studies on track, be able to put on a good show for the MFA reading series that I’m on the committee of, and still manage to watch the Gilmore Girls every once in awhile. I totally love that show.

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