and then it all just clicked

Today in class, one of my students said, "I posted late--I didn't get my post done by 10:00 this morning. Is that okay?"

I told her that it was fine, that I was a softie, despite my best efforts to be "tough," and that she'd get full credit.

In my head I was thinking, "Sh*t! I haven't posted to my blog, either!"

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am blogging with my students during these last weeks of school. Or not blogging, as the case may be.

Anyway, for this particular post, I asked students to write about how they felt about writing--in general or for an online audience. As I walked back to my office after class, thinking about my slacker status and what I might write, I realized that I didn't know how I felt about writing myself. I mean, seriously, I teach writing for a living. How can I not have a ready answer to this question.

I procrastinated for awhile, checked my favorite blog for inspiration, and finally just sat at my computer with feelings of fraud (I can't fulfill an assignment I'm asking of my students) and fear (oh my god, I should just quit school right now!) And then it hit me. Clear as day.

I write to learn, but mostly, I write to teach. I'm a naturally curious person so I ask a lot of questions. Some questions I am willing to let go (Why is female author George Eliot so "mean" to her female characters?) but some I can't (Is Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species partly responsible for the Eugenics movement?)

And then I research, and I write, write, write. Partly because I want to answer my own question, but also because I think the question is important enough to answer--in writing--so that others can learn as well.

That's probably the most arrogant reason for writing ever. But that's it.