call me professor.

When I was prepping to teach PUBL 170: Introduction to Book Publishing this past spring semester, I had no idea what to expect.

I had never taught a class before. I had never created a full syllabus. I had never led a group of people through three hours of content.

The time leading up to my first class was a fog of, I want to prep, but I don’t know how. How do I become a professor? What am I supposed to do for each class?

Fast forward fifteen weeks.

As I wrap up grading their final projects and submitting grades for the semester, I genuinely can’t believe it’s over.

I tackled each week one by one, moving through the arc of publishing from agents to editors to design to marketing efforts to selling… and everything in between.

As the mysterious publishing path revealed itself to my students as the weeks rolled by, so too did my understanding of how to show up as Professor Zanosky.

The hours spent prepping each weekend was a discovery process for me to not only deepen my own understanding about the publishing arc, but a discovery process of how I can best deliver information in an engaging way that doesn’t involve me talking at them for three hours.

In my career as a publishing sales rep, I’ve spoken to countless instructors about course design. I’ve sold books about pedagogy and promoted instructor resources that help instructors incorporate more active learning techniques.

I’ve read my company’s teaching-facing resource, The Norton Guide to Equity-Minded Teaching.

I took a Teaching Composition course in my graduate program during which I put together a mock syllabus and outlined a fake semester.

I had the tools available.

but I had to learn how to use them.

And that was the great reward that this semester gave me—it challenged me to look at the tools that were scattered around me and learn how to pick them up and wield them properly.

I learn by doing.

I don’t learn just by listening or regurgitating information.

And realizing that about myself is what propelled me through this semester. I knew I needed to incorporate lots of discussion, discovery, and projects instead of lecturing and tests.

The most rewarding part of this semester, of coming back to my alma mater as an adjunct faculty, is being part of a college ecosystem again.

there’s a buzz on college campuses that I find addicting.

To be surrounded by the passion of young adults on the verge of the rest of their lives, discovering who they are and what they desire, is something that excites me.

And to be part of that—to see their growth over the semester, to work with them individually and as a group, to support them during end-of-year celebration lunches and launch parties of their literary magazines—is a feeling close to magic.

To reconnect with some of my own most influential professors from when I was a student is a feeling I can’t describe. To be with them on the other side, to join their mission, has changed me.

The initial feelings of fear and imposter syndrome have shape-shifted into fulfillment and a deep knowing that I’m doing exactly what I should be.

There are still butterfly jitters, but the charge of fear is gone.

Hearing, “It was truly a masterclass,” from the colleague who did my observation shifted something for me.

I don’t need to have this underlying feeling of doubt.

I can be myself. I can teach in the way that feels embodied for me. I can lead in the way that I feel called.

And it is enough.

In fact, it is more than enough.

It is my gift.

My path to making a real impact.

Which is all I’ve ever wanted to do.

xx

Court.

Yes, I did almost cry when I saw this for the first time.