The turtle and the hare

On my way to my room this morning, I saw a freshman girl round the corner. Even though I was 30 yards away, I knew she was a freshman from the stack of books cradled in her arms and the speed with which her legs horsed her down the hall. She reminded me of a just-born colt: energetic yet awkward. Freshman all have too much energy for their bodies. They can't contain it all so it manifests itself in twitchy hands, legs that move too quickly for the rest of their bodies, eyes that fidget in their sockets, arms that - if not cradling every single book for every single class - swing wildly from side to side, trying to keep up with their legs. We met and she stared straight ahead, intent on reaching her destination (and judging from the load of books she was hauling, I hoped her locker wasn't far). She didn't make eye contact or even smile. By the time I had taken another three steps, she had rounded another corner and was gone. What I like about freshman is that energy. Their thoughts seem to come just as quick as their actions. Now they might not know a damned thing they're talking about, but at least there's some energy.

Seniors, on the other hand, are the exact opposite. They are the tortoises to the freshman hares. I hardly spied a senior on the way to may room. They have been around the block enough to know how to manipulate their schedules so they don't have classes until at least second block (after 9:40). After four years seniors are way too cool to hurry (unless it's exiting the building, tearing out of the parking lot, going to an athletic event, or finishing an essay test). While a freshman may be a new born colts (hope I'm not mixing too many metaphors in here - colts, turtles, hares - what the hell am I talking about?), seniors are sloths. Check that. They are sloths ready for the retirements homes; they practically SNEEZE slowly. They meander down the hall with a single notebook and most likely no textbook. While freshman weave in and out of the hallway traffic (oh boy, another metaphor), the seniors just slowly plow through. Everyone else will get out of their way. What kills me about seniors is that they think slowly. They have many more experiences to draw from than the freshman, but few ever utter much of anything.

Of course there are exceptions, but it's mostly true. Just watch the hallways sometime. Maybe I'm not dreading teaching Composition to freshman instead of sophomores next year after all.