My students give me hope

Really lovely class just now. We’re at the end of the second week, so have mostly settled into figuring out who is actually in the course, so took time today to do introductions. It meant we didn’t get to the reading (since the first half of the 50 minute class I spent on reviewing some logistics and talking about the Great Conversation and their part in it, etc.), so “Queen of the Black Coast” and Saunders’ _Imaro_ are pushed off to Monday, but I think it was entirely worthwhile.

I asked the students (in my “American Writers of Color in Speculative Fiction” course) to introduce themselves by talking about whatever aspects of identity were important to them.

 

They were so brave and so honest — they talked about mental health, about race and ethnicity and social class, about religion and gender and orientation, about disability and physicality, about their challenges and their fears and their passionate commitments to social justice and alliance and I am just so proud of these munchkins.

They are so much braver, articulate, and knowledgeable about other peoples’ struggles than I was at this age. They are warm and welcoming and kind.

They give me hope.

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