Several years ago I was giving a final. My desk was in the back of the classroom and so I was looking at my students backs. I was busy correcting final essays when I got a text.
The text just said “look up.”
When I looked up I saw that while my mind was on essays every student in the class had put on the same t-shirt.
It was one of the best moments I ever had as a professor.
Someone asked me, “isn’t that insulting?”
No.
Now, if they had written it on the bathroom wall then maybe. But they took the time and the effort to silkscreen it on the t-shirt. I saw it for what it was immediately; a love note.
I love my students. There are many things about teaching that I do not miss. I do not miss correcting papers at midnight. I do not miss getting placed on yet another committee that adds to my work without adding to my pay. I do not miss faculty meetings.
But I miss my students.
I can see every one of their faces. I follow them as they grow and develop as working interpreters. I love to see when they get a new job, or have a baby or get married or reach any milestone in their lives outside the classroom.
And I love that they would take the time and effort to zing me on a t-shirt.
I have now gone back to my roots. I am working full time as an attorney at a law firm. The other day the student who originally made these shirts asked me if I wanted another batch.
Um. Yes!
They just arrived and they are beautiful.
The staff at Ascent Law has snatched many of them up, but I have some left. A lot of smalls and mediums. A few larges (they tend to run a little large).
If you want one send me an email to dale.boam@ascentlaw.com. $25 plus shipping. I can accept Venmo and PayPal.
The proceeds will be donated to a worthy cause and I am accepting suggestions as to which cause. Make your suggestion when you order.
I promise these will go fast, especially the larger sizes so I would jump on these sooner rather than later.
And I mean come on. Who doesn’t want to have a shirt that says what almost everyone who meets me is thinking within ten minutes.
Damn you Dale Boam.
Damn me indeed!