Twas the day before Christmas and all through the class
Not a student was stirring, semester’s over you ass!
Their resumes were saved on laptops with care
In hopes that employers would find them in there.
The students were shopping and gaming instead
With visions of classwork in the semester ahead.
And I with a notepad and Fall syllabi strewn about
Was trying to work out class kinks that made all of them shout.
When out in the hall there rose such a ruckus
I sprang from my desk to see who was among us.
Away to the counter like a horse at full gallup,
Tripped over a box, why don’t I pick my stuff up!
The monitors in the hall keeping score of exam runs
Softened the light, like the moon in “La Voyage Dans la Lun.”
When what to my wondering eyes did appear
But a gaggle of recruiters with matching bags and eye gear.
And a stubby dude in tow with a personality so big
I knew in a moment he must be St Gig!
More rapid than email his partners they came
He whistled and hollered and called them by name
Now Vicki, now Angie, now Sara and Lindsey!
On Laura, on Emily, and Kelly Bogey!
“With the speed and reliability of a sturdy new Saab
Spread out, meet your students, and help them find jobs!”
As jets in formation can time their decision
To bank in unison then peel with surgical precision.
So into the office the recruiters they flew
To set up in offices where they wait to meet you.
And then in a twinkling I heard in each space
Advice being given and meetings face to face.
As I backed from the counter and returned to my task
Through the door St Gig busted like an exploding powder flask
He was dressed like a banker in his dark suit and tie
But not like a toadie, that mother looked FLY!
A belt full of tricks, encircled his waist to the back
Like Blake in the red zone, he was ready to attack.
His eyes, were wide open; his jaw was set firm
He was either ready for battle, or dealing with worms.
But the fire in his stance made me shudder with fright
On second thought this dude was ready to fight!
His Mont Blanc pen was clenched tight in a fist
And his shoes were shined…ah, you get the gist!
He put an arm round my neck as he handed me the belt
I can’t tell you the fear and the nerves that I felt.
The letter I’d sent Santa asked for an idea flash flood
Cause I felt like my class had been a bit of a dud.
He spoke not a word, the utility belt could talk
And filled my head with ideas, Oviedo chickens at full squawk!
He looked in my eyes and knew I was cool
I was over my funk, no more beating this mule!
He ran out the door and I returned to my chair
To add activity to the classes I worked on in there.
Because to find a great job, you have to actually act on your plan
And use everything from St Gig…or as you know him, Batman!
And I heard him repeat the line that set me free:
“It’s not who I am underneath, but what I DO that defines me!”
Have a happy holiday, y’all be cool to each other!