Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Afternoon Light

At this time of year, right around 4 PM, the sun streams directly into my classroom window. Facing west with the leaves gone from the birches outside, for 20 minutes or so, until the sun drops behind the low-rise apartment building across the way, I am washed in direct, and I mean direct, sunlight. It wouldn't be out of line to put on a pair of shades.

I'm usually alone in my room at the time, but colleagues who happen to enter often cover their eyes or turn their backs to the light. Some even ask if I would like for them to drop the blinds. I thank them and decline, because those blinds are drawn all the way up in response to a promise I made to my students four years ago. Then, we had just survived a very inconvenient renovation together; one that required packing up everything and moving to "swing space" and back, mostly in order to provide more and bigger windows to the building. When we returned to the room the view was indeed remarkable, and in addition to moving my desk away from the window, I agreed to always let in as much light as possible.

Maybe these brilliant moments are a kind of acknowledgement for trying to be responsive to my students. Who knows? It's impossible to look directly into the light, but I do close my eyes, raise my face, feel the warmth, and let it shine.

No comments:

Post a Comment