Notice about Cookies (for European readers)

I have been informed that I need to say something about how this site uses Cookies and possibly get the permission of my European readers about the use of Cookies. I'll be honest: I have no idea how the cookies on this site work. Here (I hope) are links to the pertinent information:

Google's Privacy practices: https://policies.google.com/privacy?hl=en&gl=us

How Google uses information from sites or apps that use their services:

https://policies.google.com/technologies/partner-sites





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).





Thursday, March 1, 2012

Thank you

I've been hearing from readers who follow the blog--and was surprised by a few (Wonder Student among them). I'm happy to know that it is apparently easy to post a comment; I'm still not sure about the "follower" function. Keep those cards and letters coming, folks; I know some of you don't read regularly, but I'd still like to know you're out there. And thanks for reading, and for letting me know you do.

I did present a slightly diluted version of the riot act to the Nature in Lit students today, and got a flurry of apologies at the end of class--but I'm honestly pretty sick of the empty promises given by one student in particular. He's entirely capable of real work, but he is allowing anything and everything else to consume his time. I didn't say it, but my internal thought was, essentially, "put up or shut up." And naturally, the students who took my displeasure most to heart are the ones who need to least.

I'm not entirely happy with how the class went--and not just because I had to start with the lecture about their doing their damned work. The conversation simply felt flat. They didn't do badly; it was hardly the proverbial lead balloon. This is systemic: it's not about today. I wish they'd fire up a bit more. The mysteries of class chemistry; I'm afraid there isn't the needed catalyst to get them shooting off sparks. I don't know what the catalyst would be, but it simply isn't there. It's too bad--but ah well. I still love the material, and it is still gratifying to talk about material I know in some depth. I surprise myself sometimes by remembering authors and titles that connect with what they're reading (I, who am so terrible with memory in general, and with authors and titles in particular. And yes, I see the irony of that particular difficulty, given my field.)

Native American lit went fine, too. Still no work from one of the students (current excuse: "I haven't been able to buy the book." Sorry, Chum, it's on reserve in the library, and you can photocopy the pages you need as we go along. It's also half-way through the semester: it's a bit late for that excuse.) As I said, he's a sweet kid, but he's simply hanging himself, and I'm not going to ride to his rescue. Again, empty promises. "I'll have all the work for you next week." Thanks, but I ain't holding my breath: I think I have better chances of winning the lottery. The other student who has turned in essentially nothing wrote an e-mail to tell me that his mother had a car accident, so he had to get her, and he didn't think he'd make it to class. My response (I'm paraphrasing, but this is the gist): "OK, so that's one of your absences; we'll see how many you have and determine whether it will affect your grade. And by the way, what about that missing work?"

But the young women in the class were their usual terrific selves. (Interestingly enough, last time I taught the class, by the end of semester the only students remaining were women: four of them to be precise. I think this class may end up the same way, but with five rather than four--I hope.) They had good responses to the homework, solid ideas about the story--and did a nice job of workshopping the one paper we had time to address. It was a solid B paper, and the students praised its quality while also giving feedback about areas of improvement. In a way I was glad that we could look at a good example, instead of working through the other volunteered paper, which was more problematic. As it happened, I could emphasize the positive of what this young woman did, instead of pointing to a negative example. Better to let the other students see how to do it right.

But after class, the bright but quiet student (I don't remember the moniker I gave her; I'll have to find another one) stayed to talk to me about papers. She said that she could see the clarity and simplicity of the essay we worked on, and that she thinks she's making her life harder for herself than she needs to. We talked a bit about what separates a B from an A. This woman is fully capable of getting an A (though she hasn't yet, and it's frustrating her). Her ideas are truly unique, her insights intelligent--but she hasn't quite got all the pieces pulled together yet. I told her that the unique quality of her ideas is precisely what will earn her an A--but because they are unique, they require more sophistication in terms of support and presentation. I'm not expressing this very clearly; I hope I expressed it better to her. (She was nodding as if I made sense, so hope springs eternal.) In any event, she said that I've written "see me" several times on her work, so clearly she needs to make an appointment. I hope she does, and soon. I want her to get that A, dammit, and time's a-wasting.

I decidedly felt the mental drain of exhaustion during both classes today. Points would drift away from me into some profound fog as I was trying to make them; pulling things together in any coherent fashion, reinforcing connections, was inordinately difficult. I don't think the students noticed anything amiss, but I'm practically woozy with fatigue.

Even so, I have a bag full of student work that I'm going to schlepp home with me to work on over the weekend. I hope I'll also have time in Advisement to finish up, but if I can get a reasonable whack at it over the weekend, that will make Monday easier. And I do need to start finding time to work on that dratted Chancellor's Award application. It's due after spring break, but I want to have it as close to finished as I can manage, before the break. The weeks of having three days free from school work over the weekend are henceforth gone, until the semester is over. (Ten more Mondays to go.) Still, with any luck at all, even with the work I'm carrying home, I'll be able to do some serious battery charging over the weekend.

Which starts ... right ... NOW.

No comments:

Post a Comment