And in the end

Today marked the end of my "career" as a professional university teacher. And I went out with a bang. Not only did I sub in my boss's introductory seminar; I also subbed in her introductory lecture on literary history. The introductory seminar, of which I had already taught an identical session on Tuesday in another class, went smoothly and with nary a hiccup. I then met all students from both classes again for the hour-long lecture in the afternoon. That was when I went all bad cop on them. Boy, did I ever. Not only did they piss me off, albeit very slightly, when they demanded more time for the regularly scheduled, previously announced 10-question multiple-choice test on the assigned reading materials; no, they royally crossed me when the majority would not stop talking, and pretty loudly, laughing, giggling, surfing, showing each other their phones etcetera while I was trying to tell them something about literary history. I had a pretty eventful powerpoint presentation, spoke freely regularly and pointed to actually interesting occurences in the history and development of this specific literature. Now, I'm not delusional, so I didn't expect them to hang on my every word. But I did expect a certain amount of respect, for me and their fellow students, as well as a certain amount of active interest in this subject matter -- which is, after all, what they chose to study -- or, at the very least, quiet and non-disturbing disinterest. Not so these students, who, confusingly enough, only two mere hours ago had actively and insightfully engaged in the class discussion, and who had sometimes even voiced their disagreement over or differing opinion on how to read a specific text. So the angry teacher in me wanted out. After challenging the chatty students to please leave because they did not have to be there and to not mistake me either for an entertainer or a lecturer for the sake of lecturing, I kind of lost control and went on a short excursion on the reasonableness and sense of the introductory module with its two short lectures, its seminar, and its tutorial, and on the value of this module for the whole of their studies of literature, and on the fact that we actually thought this structure through in order for them to build a solid foundation on which to erect, gradually, their more specific and selective knowledge on various subject matters, after which I helpfully pointed out that literary studies depends first and foremost on private study and that everything we offer them -- introductory and higher level seminars, lectures, lecture series, tutorials, cramming sessions on how to write term papers etcetera -- is just that: an offer. An offer to help and support them in their studies of literature, to guide the way, to facilitate an understanding of the workings of literature and therefore, by extension and to a certain degree, the world.

And then I was done.

And they were quiet.  

And in the end I had to cut my lecture short because the four minutes it took for me to rant like this were missing for the wrap up. I mean I couldn't make them stay four minutes late, could I now. What kind of teacher would I be.