Some good news

This post is for my mom, who likes to know what's going on in my life, yet is afflicted with a daughter who doesn't always like to volunteer information. I'm like some complicated combination lock, and only the right questions asked at the right time will open me up, but she never knows what to ask or when to ask it.

So here's something good that happened that I'm a little embarrassed to talk about, but it would please my mom to hear:

As some of you know, I've been teaching a basic photography class in the fine art department of a local community college. This was going to be the last quarter I taught there, because I'm working three days at the local newspaper and I want to spend the other two at home with The Girl while she's still a Little Bit. I love teaching the class, but I figured it's just as well, because they're in the midst of changing the course description and they don't really know what to do with it. (The class was designed years ago before digital photography changed everything and it doesn't really fit in with the current curriculum.)

So the other day, I ran into one of the teachers in the department who's always been a great help to me, and she asked - her eyes wide with excitement - if I'd heard about my class. "It's an A-list class now!" she told me. "That's great!" I replied. "You don't have any idea what that means, do you?" she said. "Not a clue," I answered.

It turns out that the class is now designated an academic class, which means that even though it's a studio class, non-arts majors can take it for a full credit, where before they would have had to compliment it with an art history class, or something like that. Kind of like eating rice with your beans to get a full protein, I guess. Anyway, it seems that this is a precedent-setting move for the department, which has been looking for ways to attract non-majors, and the cool part is that they were able to get this designation using a syllabus I wrote for a class proposal I pitched in hopes of getting more work, (back before I landed the gig at the newspaper and we had another kid.) So when this teacher asked me if I'd heard about my class, she meant MY class.

Now, Mom - you don't have to call to tell me you read what I wrote; that's what comments are for. And let's not forget this post a couple months from now when I've forgotten your birthday.