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THINGS HAVE CHANGED:

Since I am no longer a professor in the classroom, this blog is changing focus. (I may at some future date change platforms, too, but not yet). I am now (as of May 2019) playing around with the idea of using this blog as a place to talk about the struggles of writing creatively. Those of you who have been following (or dipping in periodically) know that I've already been doing a little of that, but now the change is official. I don't write every day--yet--so I won't post to the blog every day--yet. But please do check in from time to time, if you're interested in this new phase in my life.


Hi! And you are...?

I am interested to see the fluctuation in my readers--but I don't know who is reading the blog, how you found it, and why you find it interesting. I'd love to hear from you! Please feel free to use the "comment" box at the end of any particular post to let me know what brought you to this page--and what keeps you coming back for more (if you do).





Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Answer: Yes, she can.

Got 'em done. Time to spare (thank god for a lack of students in Advisement--and no meeting of the faculty advisers, which we've had the past two Wednesdays). That's a huge sigh of relief.

In fact, it's such a load off to have them done, back to the students, and out of my hair that I keep almost forgetting that I have classes tomorrow--and a little bit of marking to do for Native American Lit. But it's really only a little bit, and I can easily get it done between classes.

So, here's the overview of the class today.

Frighteningly few students were there at the start of class, but a few showed up late (and one came to withdraw, which was a good plan on his part, as he's only been in class twice, I think). One student who had not turned in his first version had been conscientious about following the instructions for that eventuality, e-mailing me yesterday to ask what he needed to do for today's class. I told him--and apparently it was just too much, as he wasn't there today. Too bad, as I think he had potential, but the work does need to get done. He didn't do it.

Two students who turned in first versions weren't there at all (one is imploding in any event; I hope she has that realization soon and withdraws, as clearly class is dead last on her list of priorities). I had thought I'd call those two students to let them know their papers are marked and on my door for them to pick up--but then I reconsidered. If they care enough about their work to want my comments, they can e-mail me to ask about getting their papers back. If they don't, I'm not chasing them down. If they turn in their final versions with zero feedback from me, well, they'll just have to be judged on those results, which I assure you will not be good.

I didn't run the class the way I originally intended: no pairs, no partners, no peer anything. I told them that the instructions for what they were going to do with partners today should be what they do at home on their own as the last step before they turn in their final versions. Instead, I told them to start addressing my comments right there, right then. (In fact, I have a note to myself to change the instructions so we do things this way from now on: I just have to consider how much work I want them to do on their own before they come to second version day.)

Once I told them to look over my comments and start trying to respond to them, one student immediately came to me and wanted me to look at his whole paper, as he'd significantly revised since Monday. I told him no, that he needed to evaluate it to see if he thought he'd addressed my comments. He sat in the back of the room, looking rather shattered and lost, so at last I relented and took a look at his thesis. Lo and behold, he'd made exactly the right improvements on his own. I told him how well he'd done, and it was a delight to see his face light up.

Much to my surprise and delight, one young woman who I was sure would be in an utter snit about her grade--and who came in late (as usual: on Monday she missed the entire period, just showed up at the end to turn in her paper)--was actually fully engaged in the work, asking me questions, writing, thinking, writing some more. In fact, at the end of class I got a beautiful, beaming smile out of her as she suddenly got the idea about her thesis. "I think I just had an epiphany," she said. Big praise from the professor.

One young man who was very defensive in his peer review was a bit defensive about my comments, too. (I asked, "How are you doing?" and got a relatively snippy, "I don't know" in return.) But he finally asked a couple of good questions at the end, and I think he gets what he needs to do. I think. Again, he has a lot of potential, but his paper was a train-wreck. I told him that if his paper had been a philosophical exploration of ethics, it would have been grand, but it isn't. It's literary analysis, so he needs to stay within those very specific bounds. He said, "I'm going to have to change the whole way I think"--and I reminded him about my lecture the first day, that college will change them. Yes, I said, you will have to change how you think--but don't see it as having to completely give up the way you're used to thinking; just add this as another way to do it. He wasn't exactly smiling as he left, but he at least was reiterating his summation of how he needs to revise his approach: "In other words, I need to come down to earth." Yes, indeed.

One student showed up the last 15 minutes of class: she'd forgotten her paper at home and had to get it. I told her she'd get credit for having version 2 on time, and gave her the Cliff Notes edition of what she'd need to do before she submits the final version. She also listened in on a lot of what I was saying to the Philosopher, and I asked her if it was helpful. Yes--big smile. She's been painfully quiet so far this semester, and her work has been missing or inadequate, but I think she's starting to pull together. She's got a hell of a row to hoe over the break, turning the mess she submitted into an actual paper--but it was delightful to see the light come into her face when I talked with her.

In fact, it was a delight to see a lot of faces light up. Kayla and I have disagreed about one young man, Kayla thinking he's got less to offer than I see: his paper was not horrible but it was not good, either (so we're both sort of right). I finally went to check in on him (he hadn't called me over), and he had some good questions, listened intently to the answers. When I told him he was on the right track, there it was, that light in the face. Another student has been a puzzle: in group discussions she seems very bright, but her journals have been disappointing. Her paper, however, was the best of the bunch--and in fact, she got a couple of blue shiny stars. (I figured as long as I'm using the bozo error stamp, I should give them a reward when they do well. I was feeling very smug about this idea, until I found out that Paul's been doing it for ages. Damn that man; he's just too good at teaching.) But she seemed stuck, so I went over to talk to her--and in the course of my helping her out and providing encouragement, her face lit up a couple of times. Mr. Chip (on his shoulder) was struggling but coming up with really good stuff; I told him so, and, bing! There it was, the light in the face.

Only one student was deeply disappointing, and he's one of those young men who has a lot of native smarts and who can hold his own in discussion but who does not apply discipline to his work. I think it's one of those "real men aren't supposed to be smart and care about school" things, and that's an attitude that's hard to counteract--without someone like last semester's Bright Young Man to be there as a living exemplar of the opposite. Well, he'll either pull it together or he'll flame out. It'd be a shame to lose him, but he has to find the discipline and will on his own; I can't do that for him.

So, all in all a good day--and I am profoundly ready for tonight's steak and scotch debauch with Paul. The debauchery is entirely gustatory, unless having a headlong, free-ranging conversation with a good buddy counts as debauchery. But the food and drink will be completely sinful, and I cannot wait. Bring it on, baby.

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