Since This Blog Thing is Sticking...

...I decide to go The Way of the Blogurai with my fresh, new students. I having them all create a blog on which they'll write all their in-class writing stuff. I decided it would've been a pain last semester--but then I got into blogging myself and most of the pain went away. Also, last semester our class split time between a lab and a--gasp!--tradition classroom. So this semester should afford an easier blogging environment. I'm going to lead by example and write along with them. I think it should be cool.

Anyway, I wanted to share my first post, addressed to them:

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Title: On Our First Day of Class...

"...I apologized before hand for my filthy fucking mouth. Dear students, as proud as I am of that little joke, it's not just an ice breaker. Sure, it might have generated a few chuckles and shaken up your expectations of composition, having heard all the horror stories from your friends. The saying definitely gave you an early impression of what (inappropriate?) nonsense you can expect from me. But I have a filthy fucking mouth because I don't believe some words should be off-limits. They're just words. No big deal. Ahh, here we go: the point!

That's how I want you to think of our Comp class: They're just words. No big deal. I don't mean to say you shouldn't think our class a big deal. It is a big deal; you need to pass it in order to graduate. That's how big of a deal it actually is. Anyway, I mean that there's nothing to be afraid of--except, I suppose, not graduating. I'm guessing that some of your aren't too happy about having to take a writing class. I'm sure some of you have written to me, "English is not my strongest subject." I see it all the time. There's a fear behind that kind of hasty declaration. But they're just words. We don't want to be afraid of words do we? No. They're little. They won't attack you. Most of the time they stay still on the page--unless of course you've taken many hits of acid, as my father, The Hawkman, has described to me. Then the words pop out of place, walk around, talk to each other--and you!--and help each other escape the page by linking themselves together into a chain that dangles from the margins; a completely new type of sentence that describes the age-old concept of freedom! Freedom from the confines of the page!

That's the kind of freedom I dream of for you, my faithful Spring semester students! First you have to let go of any fear of writing. And don't fear that the words on the page will rebel against you, because we aren't going to do any acid in class... Not before noon anyway--oh snap! Our class is at noon. Fancy that. Seriously, though, don't bring acid to class.

You're here to improve your writing. I'm here to help you improve your writing and to accept cookies as compensation for your improvement. I don't mean to sound like a bad therapist, but you need to help me help you. Once you free yourself from the terrible resistance in saying, "I can't write", then we can make progress. So let those words fly, filthy or otherwise, and bring on the cookies.

Mace...out"
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They have no idea what they've gotten themselves into.