Read Megan Thompson's (former ECU English prof!) essay, "That Is Who You Are" in Mutha Magazine

A handful of years ago, Megan Thompson was one of the small band of English professors on the Third Floor of Horace Mann, teaching Comp I and II as well as Creative Writing courses. Despite her short tenure, she made a big mark on the department, and I know many recent graduates still remember her courses fondly. For those of you who don't know her, this essay should give you a sense of what you missed. "That is Who You Are," without giving too much away, is about the struggle to define yourself apart from the job you loved and felt you had been groomed to follow. We always talk about finding your dream job and your 'calling,' but what happens if you get fired (or quit)? Or get lost? Have you betrayed yourself? The American Dream? Your family? This is a poor summary of a very profound and moving essay which uses the particular to express the universal. In other words, you don't have be an English professor to understand exactly what she's talking about. Oh, and she talks about some of her ECU experiences as well...

Here's the link: http://www.muthamagazine.com/2020/07/that-is-who-you-are/?fbclid=IwAR0Wsi7DIhD0LGYzh5Jhh-CFlg7yXup2edwOHX27xTJTtoiq_Yewdj1rBig

And here's an excerpt: "In my years of teaching, I had heard innumerable stories that shredded my heart, but I never broke down. I taught at regional universities in rural areas of the country, my students often first-generation college students, working multiple jobs, raising their own kids. They brought their books to class in plastic bags. I held their babies for them on the days when they gave their presentations and couldn’t find a sitter. I read their essays alone in my office, my hand over my mouth. I bolted down the hall to my department chair after one email from a student saying she felt like she was trudging through sludge and I didn’t think she could do it anymore. I listened to their stories about testicular cancer, relationships gone to hell, rape. I attended sessions on how to make my office a safe place, and put a sticker on my door saying that it was. I got wrapped up in their lives because I saw no way around it. Universities obsess over retention rates, so it was our duty to make sure students came to class. I knew them, and I loved them. And I was able to hold it all together until that day in the nearly empty building, 2:30 in the afternoon on the last day of class before summer, when I couldn’t anymore."