When I was in college I would have dreams, from time to time, in which I would show up at class only to find that we were taking a test, and that I had no idea about the subject. I would receive my test booklet, the hour would start, and everyone would get to work — except for me, because I was completely unprepared.
Shortly after I got my Ph.D., I found myself teaching at NYU. Now I was on the other side — not the one taking the tests, but the one giving them. I was, as they say, the one in power.
Yet the dreams continued. Only this time I would show up to give a lecture, only to find that I was completely unprepared, and had no idea what to lecture about. A sea of expectant student faces would stare out at me, and I would have not a clue what to do or say.
Thinking back on all this, what fascinates me is that these are essentially the same dream. The only difference between them is in the societal role that I am playing. In every other way, they are the same.
What continues to surprise me — I’m not sure why it surprises me, but it does — is that my dream self would bother to make such a fine distinction between “student” and “teacher”. After all, you would think that the terrified three year old in my soul would not care about such petty details.
Yet evidently he does.