Avoiding chocolate

If I stay and keep working tonight, I'm going to need chocolate. Since I'm trying to prevent my waistline from expanding any further, I'm trying to avoid chocolate--so I need to stop working.

Interesting rationale, don't you think? I wonder how many professors use the "I don't want to eat so I can't work" excuse.

Not that it's bad, really, even though I'm in a real struggle with Nature in Lit. Wonder Student is having a horrible semester and wants very much to withdraw; I'm trying like mad to persuade him to take an Incomplete instead. I found some information I wish I'd had last semester, when I was fretting about my student from the spring Native American Lit not completing her work before the December deadline: I checked with Bruce, and not only can I turn an Incomplete into a Withdrawal if I want to (who knew?), I can also formally create an extension and give the student another whole semester to finish the work. With that information in hand, I'm hoping I can coax and cajole Wonder Student into finishing over the summer, into next fall if need be. He's been struggling with his health all semester, and now he's got a serious emotional issue going on, so no wonder he can't face the work at this juncture. He also said he might retake the class next spring--but I'm not at all sure I'll be the one teaching it next spring, assuming it even runs (more on that in some other post). So for my own selfish reasons I do not want him to withdraw; I want him to finish the course with me. Of course, I'm within my rights to refuse the withdrawal, but I wouldn't do that to him. If he can't be persuaded into the Incomplete, I'll sign the drop form--but it will hurt like hell.

The other two students were both there today (one on time, one late), and I spent some time with each one, going over the first versions of their papers, given immediate feedback and grades, and sending them off to keep working. I told the young man that his overall grade is in serious jeopardy unless he turns in a huge bolus of work by May 10. He keeps saying he'll "definitely" do it--but he definitely hasn't up to now, so I may be invoking the "mercy D" policy. The young woman will do fine. I ended up having a lovely conversation with her after we went through her paper (I'd seen the young man first and sent him on his way): she was about to give a big presentation in her Women's Studies class, so we talked about what she was going to do, then got into a discussion about feminism and various other topics (student attitudes and immaturity, the distinction between a person and his or her ideas...). I love that kind of conversation with students, the times when we can just talk, not about class stuff but just talk.

Advisement was fine; I had some time to do my own work in between students. I would like to note, however, how frequently someone who is clearly about as intelligent as a box of hair has ambitions to become a nurse. Thank God our nursing program is notoriously ferociously selective: I hope all such programs are equally demanding; otherwise, the quality of nursing care becomes terrifying to contemplate. I certainly don't want someone like the young woman I advised today handling anything about my health care--not even filing my folder under "P."

And 102 was also fine. I put the students in pairs to provide each other feedback on their second versions, and I made myself available to answer questions as they arose. (Kayla was stuck in traffic, so it was just me today.) They are doing well with the peer review process; I was very happy with the feedback they were giving, and with the questions they were asking me. I was interested--and happy--that among the students who specifically voted to engage in peer review was Mr. Shrug and Smirk, who has tended to believe he's too good for the whole process (and who has often acted as if my comments or requirements are borderline idiotic--which is, of course, guaranteed to win my love and respect). But apparently he wanted the feedback, which was great.

I focused their attention in peer review by reminding them to get rid of what I call "unsupported commentary" (the stuff when they're just bloviating about society in general) and instead to focus on analysis of the novel. I also told them to make sure the evidence proves their thesis, that the "citation boundaries" are clear (where they being using a source and where they stop), and that any sentence that includes a quotation still makes sense as a grammatical whole. That last one is hard for them, as they can't even tell for sure when their own sentences are grammatically sound, but at least they're thinking about it. I put all that on the board, and they diligently copied it down--and followed it as they reviewed each others' papers.

I also put something on the board I wish I'd put up ages ago (and again, to my surprise, they actually took notes). I wrote the following:

For each paragraph:
       YOUR IDEA
            illustration from the novel
           YOUR IDEA about the illustration from the novel
               [illustration from the critical source
                 Your Idea about the illustration from the critical source]
         YOUR IDEA: demonstrating link to thesis

 I talked it through with them, and I think they're starting to get the point.

I've only looked at two second versions so far (out of ten), and both are incrementally better than their first versions. I'm hoping the trend generally holds true. I'm still being somewhat conservative with grades, because I want somewhere to go for their final versions. I want to give students who manage to come through in the end a nice big reward.

I don't want to get into the latest horror story about the administration, as relayed by Paul: it's just nasty as hell; there is a toxic miasma seeping out of the Tower (appropriate, isn't it, that that's the building where the Powers that Be are lodged?), and it truly is making this place a hell to work in. And I know I "should" go to the Board of Trustees meeting tonight (especially since the senate and union are presenting a budget proposal, which is sure to be torpedoed)--but I can't do that to my own psyche. If I were to go, I'd either be devoured with rage and disgust (and a sense of being utterly ineffectual) or I'd be cripplingly depressed. Neither is good for my psyche (or my adrenal glands), so I'm staying away. I've got enough of my own emotional/psychological malaise to deal with.

Oh, but I need to reframe: I can't end on that note. Here's a nice moment from today: a colleague happened to see me in the hall and rather timidly asked if he might sometime observe me in the classroom. He thinks I'm very organized (hah!), and he's particularly interested in how I teach revision, so he wants to sit in on a class sometime next semester and watch me do my thing. Isn't that a lovely compliment? I'm truly somewhat abashed, and honored. And of course, I'm happy to have anyone observe my classes, any time. I get discouraged and self-castigating, but at core, I know I'm damned good at this.

No chocolate required.