So, five days, three papers for three different classes ... I know that there is a lot of pressure, anxiety and stress involved here ... but it wasn't sleepless nights or lack of sleep.
And they weren't tears of frustration ... I am not sure I can really name them.
It is some odd combination of relief, being moved by the work I have done observing in the classroom, being 41 years old in graduate school -- and I guess being me.
I have been wearing one of my grandma's medallas all week (I thought for moral support) and going through the pictures of my other grandma. I am guessing I was needing to feel close to them as well as their strength and protection.
I can't really do any of this without thinking about them, and my mom and my sisters, Ms. Tatum, all the truly wonderful teachers and professors I have had, and all the people who have had a hand in shaping me: the teacher, the student, the academic (ok incipient academic).
And the tears flow ... it doesn't feel bad, just strange... in some way this is the release I have been wanting and needing.
There are my two grandmas on the right. I love that they were friends!
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