My daughter is 12. I'm not sure how that happened. Sure, it sounds nostalgic, the imagery etched with too much pathos and saccharine. But, the granularity of moments is infinitely small in hindsight; they never add up to the squares on the calendar, the steps pressed into the memory of the carpet pad.
I'm surrounded by students--or rather I'm sitting with students as a peer, as a member of our mutual discourse community. The space is hard to define: sometimes bound by walls… Continue
Posted on March 9, 2010 at 10:51pm