It’s only my second day of class, and it already feels like I’ve been through a marathon of exhaustion and frustration. After a series of rescheduled classes that felt like a never-ending game of schedule roulette, I finally meet my students. I’ve been talking for 30 minutes, but their reaction is as engaging as a blank wall. No smiles, no nods—just a sea of unenthused faces. I’ve cracked all the jokes I could think of (though most were just mediocre at best), tried weaving in stories related to the topic, and mustered every ounce of energy I had to give a decent lecture. Yet, the students remained as awake as a hibernating bear. It could have been the corny jokes or the shallow stories, but their blank stares suggested I was speaking in ancient, forgotten tongues. At 2:30 pm, I find myself pondering the existential dilemma of teaching at an hour when even the most engaging topics seem like ancient relics. The challenge of balancing actual learning with keeping students’ attention is g...
I dwell in the spaces where shadows meet light, where questions outnumber answers. A seeker of truths buried deep, I write to unearth what lies beneath the surface. In the chaos, I find my voice. In the silence, I find myself.