My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "I have a Corgi friend!" "What?" "I have a Corgi friend!" "...What?" " I HAVE A CORGI FRIEND, GOD DAMN IT. WHAT ARE YOU NOT UNDERSTANDING?!" "Hold on, stop. Slow down. Breathe. What Corgi friend?" "Okay. Have you ever been to the pet store?" "Yeah?" "The one where we got Zelda?" " Yeah? " "And they have all those other cats, and dogs come in to get washed and groomed, and they have adoption fairs every Saturday for - " " I have established that I've been there, John. Get to the point." "Well, I went there to get more wet food for Zelda, and there was this Corgi. Named Wesley." "Oh, yeah, I've seen him before. He's one of the neighbor's dogs." "He's so cuuuuuuuuuuuuute!" "He's a Cardigan Welsh Corgi, right? The kind with the longer tails. Very handsome." ...

I tried to get into the university I wanted, but I was denied without so much as a second glance. I knew it was a long shot - the graduate program that the school offered appeared only to have room for the best of the best, the crème de la crème - and I happened to be the equivalent of skim milk when they were looking for custard. I was ready to give up on a master's degree entirely.

Wow. That was one Hell of a way to end the week. And I mean that entirely negatively. I thought things were looking up: Guess not. Apart from the fire up north reducing air quality, and apart from a nasty cold I got, I then had to deal with what could honestly be considered a sad excuse for a "classroom coup." I don't think I've been challenged so much as a teacher in my entire life. Or even as a person in my entire life. I don't think I've been so questioned, or seen my words twisted so badly or taken so out of context. I say I didn't promise a student an editing job? Well, "four people" heard me promise it (even though in truth, I was just encouraging a student to work toward becoming an editor, as I'd do for anyone interested). I mention I'm tired of students mouthing off and talking back to me? I'm told that students felt "provoked" (which I guess is synonymous now with "sensitive"). Look, I don't lik...

A Different Strategy by Belinda Roddie If they disrespect me, they can finish the book themselves.

Frankie stayed at my bedside the entire time I was ill, holding my clammy hand and singing to me as I faded in and out of consciousness. I had strange dreams, mostly consisting of abstract shapes and bubbles that carried me to a shoddily drawn house on a crayon landscape. It was as if my mind had been melted like wax, and the last memories I had were of things I had created as a small child in art class.

To Be Compassionate by Belinda Roddie To be compassionate or to be blunt: to deliver critique as well as calm support, to be exact, sharp, and upfront, but also show the soft side of the palm, the coolness of the tongue. The balance that I attempt to strike between iron fist and mentor is delicate. I combat the tempers of the students that insist that I am not their Fearless Leader. Still, I pay them in grades, I run the affair, and if they screw up, it is I who will face the brunt of the storm. I am aware I must not make myself vulnerable, and yet, is patience more enforceable?