Gardens

Now that classes are over and grades are in, I can focus a bit more on getting the last bits cleaned up in the garden.  It is always a surprise to see early blooms that we had forgotten about, and always a welcome pleasure to get those first fragrant whiffs of lilac that just whisper Spring.

Classes are so much like gardens, I find.  Some classes you simply know will grow and blossom just about as you might hope: buds push up and grow tall and straight.

And then there are classes like the ones I had this year that grew in their own ways, their stems sometimes leaning, sometimes curling, not at all what I had expected.

But on that last day of class, there it was:  a garden of absolutely unique blooms, some with subdued colours, others with colour so vibrant they could barely contain themselves, some that looked as if they were plants from another planet, and others that were easily identified. They had, each and every one, found their own shape and purpose in that class, each one beautiful, each one exceptional.

And so, even with thirty years of university teaching experience, I still have to remind myself:

Your expectations are your expectations. 

Trust the students.
Nurture them and they will flourish.