That's the word that immediately occurs to me as I think about my classes this past semester, and as I think about the ones to come in the Spring. My reflex meant that response in a tongue-in-cheek way, as in, "Wow, there certainly are a lot of kids in these classes!" And to be sure, there are quite a few--over 200 in six classes, three different preps.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I want my students' experiences in our time together to be marked by a different kind of fullness, one beyond just "lots of physical bodies stuffed in one small space."
I want their experience in B109 to be full of laughter. I want their time to be full of creation. I want their chunks of life in here to be full of part hard work and part giggles, part passion and the building up of patience, and frustrations resolved by "oh holy crap, now I see!" moments.
I want full classes, brimming with not just people, but ideas and surprises. I want them to tumble out the door still debating, and I want them to fill the Internet with their words. And I want to step back and let the fullness of what they've created change their worlds for good, forever.