Genuine displacement activity

A friend of mine prefers not to discuss procrastination. It isn't procrastination, she says; it's "displacement activity"--and I've just engaged in quite a bit of it. And truly, what I've been doing needs to be done, and needs to be done now, but perhaps not as "now" now as the assignments I haven't been marking. For instance, I realized that my short-story students are about to write a paper for which I said I would supply the critical essays--and I haven't supplied any critical essays. So I found a bunch and typed up a little annotated bibliography so the students can pick and choose (so I don't have to copy unnecessarily). In the process, I got to thinking about the timing of that assignment and realized I was out of my mind when I picked the due date. It made sense in terms of giving them time between that paper and their final paper proposals; it makes no sense in terms of my grading load. So they'll be thrilled to their teeny tootsies that they get a pretty good-sized wodge of extra time for that one.

I'm also going to cancel a reading for the 101 classes (which I determined last night but which I forgot to announce today--but no harm, no foul, as the assignment I'm changing around isn't for a few weeks yet). I find I'm having to make notes for myself on sticky flags to adhere to the attendance cards: that way I have to see the note, and won't forget.

Clearly I have a serious case of the "brain already full" syndrome: random bits of necessary information are getting buried in the metaphoric garbage, stuck to the back of something I don't think I'm going to need (mentally, metaphorically speaking). My mind is beginning to resemble the recyling bin, which I'm terrified to empty, for fear I've inadvertently tossed something crucial in there.

In terms of student interactions, each class, one withdrawal. Neither a student it hurts to lose. The young woman I was going to allow back in the short-story class despite her excessive absences didn't show up today. I think she was scared off by the fact that I told her to come to class today prepared, with the story read, reading journal done, and mini-paper in hand if possible. Ah well. I gave it a shot; it didn't pan out.

On the other hand, I did have a nice moment with a student at the end of the short story class. I don't remember if I mentioned last week that he had asked (rightly) if he could get his other assignments back before the next were due so he could see if he's made improvements. I left the assignments for him--and he did pick them up (surprising how often a student makes such a request and then doesn't follow through--or perhaps it isn't surprising). After class today, he asked me about one comment he kept seeing on his papers, showed me what he'd done to try to make the correction. He still hadn't done it quite right, but he gets it now--and I praised him to the sky for his work to improve. My praise was, is, entirely sincere. He knows he's not a great writer, but he's willing to do what it takes to become a better one, and that, my friends, is what makes a good student. He may not get the best grades, but man, I'll take classrooms full of students like him. He cares; he's trying; he wants to improve. That warrants praise.

I also had an interesting little moment with Mr. Macho: he had found a quotation in the essay we read for today that he thought was important but couldn't figure out. He and I talked about it, and he didn't seem frustrated or angry at the suggestion that he try to work his way through it, using his group mates for help--in fact, he anticipated that was what I was going to suggest. Then he was very open asking about it in class; I think he may have been the first to volunteer a question, in fact. The other students laughed when he said, "I think it's important but I don't know what it means"--but I pointed out that lots of them have that reaction, and it's a good step in the right direction. He asked, "Am I right? Is it important?" "Absolutely, yes." I was happy to be able to give him some positive reinforcement.

I find this young man fascinating. I'm trying to figure him out, get a read on him. He still comes across as resistant, in terms of his body language, but he seems to relax and get more serious about doing the work with every class. And yet, I can't help but wonder if there is some simmering resentment that will suddenly cause him to act out in some way. I guess I find it hard to believe he's really turned the corner as completely as it seems he may have. But future classes--and future writings--will reveal a lot.

I am getting pretty pissy, however, with students who still insist on resistance to the material. In a journal, one student wrote, "Although the information following the quote is mostly nonsense to me as part of the audience, other nature lovers might find it ideal." First, just for a little context, the essay is not about loving nature: it's about ways we can create urban and suburban environments that can bring us more enjoyment. More to the point, however, I am simply fed to the teeth with that "I don't have to try to understand this because it's stupid and I can't relate" attitude. My response: "Well, clearly you are fully engaged in trying to understand an unusual point of view, one that might challenge or stretch your mindset." Once upon a time I might have whited that out and tried for something more Socratic and questioning, but fuck it. (Once upon a time I'd also have been more concerned about clear and felicitous presentation of my ideas: "Is 'mindset' really the word I want? Is the point of view really 'unusual'? What do I mean by that?" Fuck that, too.) If he's going to behave like a truculent, arrogant ignoramus, I get to behave like a snarky, belligerent bitch (and I'm not going to edit myself for his benefit).

Ok, ok, ok. Cleansing breath.

I want to get the reading journals back to the 101 students tomorrow, and I truly am ready to start grading the big papers for the short story class. I returned a bunch of journals and mini-papers to them today--and collected another journal and mini-paper (sweet jumping Jaysus, it's endless). So the stack for that class has gone down, though it has not gone away. I am looking at 19 papers for them (several hardly qualify as papers: they're really just place holders, so the student has turned in something and can "revise"--I use the term in the sense of "actually write the paper"). It's lunacy to think I'll get them done by Wednesday, but I want to take a good run at it--mostly so I can get to the damned revisions for the 101 classes. Those students really do need their revisions back, and soon, as their next papers are coming up.

And I'd push a little further tonight, but, um, no, I won't. I'm hungry, and tired, and I can tell that my immune system is taking a hammering, so I'm going to go home, get to bed early, and leap to work tomorrow. You all know by now what Scarlett says.