The Observer and The Observed

First thing today was my observation of one of our "newbies," Matt. All new hires have to be observed in their first year of appointment by a member of P&B and by the chair--and I think by the dean as well. I also have to observe a colleague who is going up for full professor (I need to check my calendar to remember when the blazes we scheduled that--and to be sure I'm not forgetting someone). Matt's class was great: he's wicked smart, and I am already ripping off some of his language and approach to the thorny problem of thesis statements. I was, somewhat unfortunately, observing a section of retiring and hesitant students; clearly there were a few sharp cookies in the bunch, but Matt had to let some of the silences hang for quite some time before a student would even make eye contact long enough for Matt to encourage a response. Yet he did a great job pulling those teeth (as it were). I like that he didn't pounce on anyone who seemed dazed and confused. (I don't think trapping students in their unpreparedness is helpful; I think it merely scares everyone into silence. I know some believe it keeps students on their toes, but I feel that is more a "fight or flight" reaction than genuine attentiveness.) The funny thing is, I was enjoying the fact that Matt was completely comfortable and confident during the observation--until near the end of the lesson I suddenly thought, "I wonder if he's nervous." I have no idea why the idea popped into my head, but it turns out he was nervous. Yet despite that random thought, seriously, I'd never have known if he hadn't fessed up. He seemed every millimeter the confident, relaxed master of his subject and his classroom.

I must say I find it fascinating to watch other professors do their thing. Some pedagogical approaches resonate more strongly with me than others, but even when I am uncomfortable with a colleague's tactics, I am fascinated.

Oddly, I was not in the least nervous about Bruce observing my class, even though the students were desperately struggling not only with the reading but also with my study questions--which, in retrospect, I can see were phrased as if the kids were grad students, not the sophomores they are. I am simply unbearably awful at a) being concise (no shit) and 2) translating from my language into theirs. But the students were terrific: they started talking to me about their concerns the instant I walked in. I engaged in the conversation with them, but I also asked them to hang on to their questions until we could officially begin, as I didn't want those yet to arrive to miss out. Ultimately they made smart connections and demonstrated that they had gotten more out of the critical material than they thought. Some still do not get the difference between critical material and literature (and I know, no matter what I do, I'm going to get papers that get it wrong), but I think we're getting closer. I went into class meaning to postpone the papers to Wednesday (since I won't be marking them next week anyway) but as we got caught up in the conversation, I thought, "Oh, hell, let's just leave it alone." They'd have loved me for the postponement, but honestly, it felt like just one more thing to keep track of.

Making a segue from keeping track to removing some of my self-imposed pressure, somewhere between last night and this morning I suddenly thought, "Why do I have to have all the papers for Monday conferences on my door on Thursday morning? I never have before." So I announced to today's 101 the change in policy: Monday conferencees who have early appointments will find their papers on my door tomorrow a.m. as initially promised. Those with later appointments will find them Monday a.m. Of course, students in my T/Th sections still expect to find papers for Monday appointments on my door first thing tomorrow, and at least one of those students will probably anxiously look for hers the second they're supposed to appear. Instead, she--and any other T/Th student looking for a paper tomorrow--will see a note that grading is in progress. But they'll survive. They'll have the entire weekend to look over comments, and the revision isn't due until yet another weekend has gone by. But that one woman is wildly nervous about her work: she's an adult and has some ESL problems, and she desperately wants to do well, so I feel a little guilty that she may be left hanging for a while.

Anyway, it is nice to see one of the stacks of papers already whittled down significantly (and I'm refusing to focus on the other enormous stacks right now. I'm taking my triumphs where and how I can.) I also feel good about today's 101 lesson on revision and works cited pages. That probably means I'll feel less happy tomorrow (every class I do the lesson slightly differently, and I almost always think either, "Shit, I did that so much better in the other section" or "Shit, I wish I'd done that in the other section; this way was much better." Or both.) Still, I think this is the first semester that I've so carefully gone over works cited pages prior to their revisions. WC pages are not required on first versions of first papers but become a requirement with the revisions--and yet in the past I have pretty much tossed them into the deep end and then tried to rescue them after the fact. My logic has always been that it's easier to understand the wretched things when one is working with something concrete, not in the abstract, but we made it concrete enough today that I think it worked. Or worked for those who care enough to pay attention, take notes, and do what I recommended (i.e., use the fucking style guide). I'll know more when I get the revisions.

I almost forgot: during class there was suddenly a little flurry among the students and when I looked over, one of the young women said, "Professor, there's a weirdo out in the hall. He's standing in the corner and he keeps showing his tushie." Took me a minute to sort out that this weirdo was literally mooning the class and by the time I got to the door to see what was going on, I was just in time to see the top of his head as he ran down the stairs. It took us a while to get settled down again (and I asked them all to contact public safety if they saw him again or could give a description of him)--and the student who had explained the problem then started to tease herself about having said "tushie." Well, in the shock of the moment, who knows what vocabulary will come to mind? Anyway, that's a new one for me. It's always an adventure....

Oh, AND, shifting gears yet again (I'm going to wear out the metaphoric clutch at this rate), Bruce wanted to talk to me after he observed my class, but I was besieged by students, so instead I dropped by his office when I was done. We talked a little about the observation but then we got into a fascinating conversation about linguistics (Bruce is a linguist), arising from the fact that one of the students in 229 is interested in exploring language use: what it means in terms of their identity for Native Americans to use English (and occasional words from their native tongues). We talked like actual scholars for a little bit. It was a blast. More more more, please! Jeez, it's nice to feel those brain muscles get a teeny stretch from time to time.

And what the hell am I still doing in the office? I have to be back here in 12 hours (oh GAWD). How many ends can any one candle have? I'm burning both ends plus a couple of spots in the middle it seems.