Private message to Lana
Sep. 2nd, 2014 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_antoninIf you are done delving through the library, my dear, do come on up before supper for a drink and a chance to ask any last-minute questions before I throw you to the third and fourth years tomorrow.
(Unless you would prefer otherwise, I will observe the third-year class, but not the fourth-year: the fourth years are already accustomed to learning from me, and I would not wish to split the classroom authority unless you would prefer the safety net.)
(Unless you would prefer otherwise, I will observe the third-year class, but not the fourth-year: the fourth years are already accustomed to learning from me, and I would not wish to split the classroom authority unless you would prefer the safety net.)
no subject
Date: 2014-09-03 05:51 am (UTC)Anytime, my dear. And that is not simply polite protestation: as your magister it is my duty to provide you with anything you need to succeed in your apprenticeship, and an hour or two spent helping you rehearse your lectures is so far from being a chore it is not even in the same neighbourhood. (As to the butterflies -- the first time I took a classroom of beginning students myself I was, oh, a year or so younger than you are now, and despite my own magister having made me deliver my first lecture to him six times in a row beforehand, I had stage fright so vicious my hands would not stop shaking for two days. You are doing just fine.)
I think you are ready as well, and you may believe that if I did not, I would not be shy in saying so. One word of warning, however, that I heard from my own magister and pass on now to you: it is all too common, among those drawn to the Arts, to believe that asking for help is a sign of weakness, and thus to believe that one must appear as though one has everything fully under control at all times. (A problem, I observe with delightful understatement, that is even more common among our brotherhood.)
I will tell you again, and as often as I need to: I do not expect you to be perfect at this on first foray. Teaching, as a discipline, is shockingly harder than it appears. (And easier, in some ways, as well, and certainly never boring.) It is a rare beginning teacher who does not get over her head at least once. I will never view questions or requests for help as a sign of failure.
That magisterial lecture aside: sleep well, Professor, and enjoy your time in the morning. I am accustomed to rising fairly early and having a pleasant jog around the lake before breakfast; I will stop in and see how you are doing. (After I have bathed, I promise.)