Today my students in abovesaid class are writing an in-class essay. One of my afternoon students stood huddled outside the classroom door and urged me to step out for a second. I did.
Apparently someone broke into her house/apartment last night. She was fighting back tears and managed to convey that she was in no condition to write today. She pointed to the right side of her face but didn't really explain; I assume she was assaulted, too.
Luckily she's one of my best students this spring, so I told her to e- or call me to make up the essay. Normally I don't allow makeups even for the best of reasons, but now is no time to nitpick.
This is something else I may wish to delve into: which students need sympathy, which need a little prodding, which need a swift kick in the arse, and which deserve no quarter. It's a tap dance. And at times like this, I feel I'm waging a hopeless battle against the unpredictability of our lives.
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