Proposal approvals

Wow, that was painful. Today's 102 students faced a truly intense struggle to come up with working theses that would fly. Some I approved more in hope that the proposed "thesis" will turn into something than because it was very solid as written, but I reminded each student that the idea is to write one's way into a thesis, that one must gather the evidence and chew it over and make sense of it before one is really sure what one ultimately can/will prove. At that point, it's time to revisit the thesis and clear it up. If they can actually execute that procedure, they'll do OK. But--again, always--I remind myself that understanding something conceptually precedes the ability to execute (as I know from my riding lessons, from my dance classes...).

I also told the students my story of my dissertation advisor pushing and pushing me on revising the dissertation until I felt completely squeezed dry, to show them that I could empathize with where they were. Paul and I talked about it yesterday, and he reinforced for me that this is a good exercise for the students: to keep having an unacceptable idea boomerang back at them until they can get it to work, that repeated "try again" teaching them A) that coming up with a good idea requires hard work and B) that they can persevere through something that is difficult. They all did, one way or another--and if I'd been able to get the proposals rolling earlier, I'd have pushed some of them even further. We just ran out of time.

One young woman was incapable of coming up with anything at all. Anything. At all. She's a lovely girl but has been struggling all semester: something is clearly going on in her personal life that's getting in her way, and in class today she was in one of those awful almost fugue states in which her inability to come up with any workable ideas made her freeze up even more, an awful self-augmenting panic. She's going to come to the office tomorrow--not necessarily to come up with a working thesis (I'm not sure she can), but to at least strategize what to do if she cannot come up with one, if she cannot, in fact, write this last paper. I find that my desire to rescue her is powerful, but I need to remember what I was saying about the perils of enabling parents: the same philosophy holds true for me. This student is a young adult, and she needs to take responsibility for her own success--or lack thereof--and I can't rescue her; she's got to do it herself.

My 101 students did their presentations today. It was in a way easy for them, as the five of them all feel very comfortable with each other, so no stage fright (I don't think). But in a way, it was difficult: any actor can empathize with how painful it is to play to an empty house. The energy in the room was more flat than it would have been if there had been more students as audience. Still, they did fine--the usual problems with focus, misstated factual information, unclear presentation, but nothing egregious. And I think they all learned something useful from their projects. We'll conduct our semester post-mortem on Thursday, as they have an in-class final on Tuesday. (Oh, and that reminds me: I need to hand out the self-evaluation assignment to today's 102. I completely forgot. Story of the semester, the semester of "oh shit," as in, "oh, shit, I forgot to ..." fill in the blank.)

I did get all the revision essays marked and back to students. Now I just need to crank through their last reading journals--I hope being able to get those back to them tomorrow, so they are out of my hair for the weekend. I also have some P&B business catching fire on a back burner: I need to get that tended to before the whole place goes up in smoke (metaphorically speaking, of course).

But the big dilemma of the moment is, do I go to dance class tonight? I missed last week (sub instructor, didn't mind missing); I will certainly miss next (end of semester screaming in progress). I haven't gotten my money's worth out of my class pass--but in other months I've gotten way more than my money's worth, so I figure that comes out a wash. I am excruciatingly tired (what else is new?) and do have to get up at 5:30 again tomorrow if I want to have any hope of getting those journals back--and I don't get home from dance until after 10 (if I stay for both classes; I suppose I could just go to swing and bail on hustle). I know this is of burning interest to all you, my faithful readers, but this is the kind of thing I can fuss and waffle over for a very long time (this and what to eat for dinner: the momentous decisions of my life). Tough call. I will be out late tomorrow (steak night with Llynne and Paul): can I do two late nights and early mornings in a row? Do I want to?

I'll put off the decision for a bit. When I can't reach a decision, it often helps to stop thinking about it for a while.

Instead, I should be thinking about what books to order for fall--but all the books I want to evaluate are at home. Perhaps I'll bring them back to the office, in the fond delusion that I'll get a chance to look them over and make a decision this week (hah!). I really do have to deal with that before the term is finished, however. One more thing to add to the back-burner.

But in nine days, it will all be over but the shouting--which I hope is merely a figure of speech, rather than an indication of possible student reactions to grades.