There is a horse-chestnut (aka buckeye) tree I pass every time I park in my usual spot at Framingham State, and this past semester, I fell into the habit of picking up a single buckeye every morning I came to campus to teach. Buckeyes remind me of Ohio, so it became a comforting ritual to pick up a buckeye, polish it in my hand as I walked to my office, and then place it on my desk as that day’s amulet: a good luck-eye.
Last week, I gathered all these buckeyes into a basket, each representing a day when I commuted to campus with the usual assortment of worries, obligations, and distractions. Whether it was rainy or sunny, I picked up a buckeye. Whether I was tired, discouraged, or feeling energized, I picked up a buckeye. Whether I was running late or had arrived early, I picked up a buckeye.
Whereas my students get something tangible at the end of each semester–a grade and whatever credits they’ve accrued–teaching can sometimes feel as futile as a dog chasing her tail. After so much energy poured into lectures, quizzes, and essay drafts, what (if anything) did I or anyone accomplish? At the end of yet another semester, it felt oddly satisfying to have accumulated a tangible thing: not something I made, for sure, but something I gradually gathered, a reminder of moments that might have otherwise slipped away without notice.
Hoarded Ordinaries 
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:39 am
Don’t forget the ‘Sleeper effect’.
Educators may not see immediate outcomes to our work like a bricklayer or a motor mechanic but there is the long-term effects of their contributions on students. Most of the time I do not hear about these , But occasionally the one in 1000 students may write an appreciative comment on Facebook.
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Dec 23, 2018 at 10:26 am
Yes, teaching is like planting seeds in a pot you’ll probably never see again. We keep doing it even though we typically don’t see the end result.
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Dec 30, 2018 at 2:15 pm
Collecting things as they come to hand seems like a peaceful practice, particularly as a counterweight to teaching.
I’ve caught up with grading over winter break, and now I’m reconsidering the readings for the spring syllabus that’s already been approved. As a writing teacher, the planning seems to sustain me. One of these years, I tell myself, I’ll just teach what I taught the year before, and it’ll be much easier. But it’s impossible, and probably deadly, to leave it alone.
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Dec 30, 2018 at 4:21 pm
Peter, I’m always tweaking my syllabi, even before semesters when I keep nearly everything the same. It’s hard to tell how somethimg will work until you actually teach it, so every class is necessarily a work in progress.
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Jan 1, 2019 at 5:58 pm
I’ve only belatedly realized that buckeyes and conkers (as the British call them) are the same thing! I used to have a horse chestnut tree outside my apartment window in New York City. I loved that tree.
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Jan 1, 2019 at 6:22 pm
Yes, horse chestnuts, buckeyes, and conkers are all basically the same thing. Technically, buckeyes and horse chestnuts are different (but related) trees, but ornamental horse chestnuts are often labeled buckeyes, I use the terms interchangeably.
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