When I returned to the classroom last year after a prolonged absence, you could hear my gears creak. I could, anyway. What had once come so naturally was now laborious, and I struggled to adjust the fluidity of the classroom. That wasn't always the case. During my prime, I would walk into class, often with only a few announcements jotted down, stand in front of the lecturn, sense the room, and put together an incredible session on the fly. The key ingredient in the mix: sensing the room. Knowing instinctively where their interests have evolved, what they're struggling with, what they're bored with. This is the skill I've lost completely.
On Monday, that old sense made a cameo appearance. At the start of class, I opened my mouth and what gushed forth wasn't remotely what was in my lesson plan. It's like being possessed. What's more, it resulted in my best class in two years. My adjustment was exactly what they needed. Students were engaged, learning was accomplished, pats on the back all around.
Then Tuesday it all came crashing down. A student came to class early and weirded me out, and things just spiraled from there. That class had no pulse whatsoever, and it was all on me. Ah well. I enjoyed kompitence while it lasted.