Woof!

Four and a half hours of clanking through the Chancellor's Award application and I think it's actually almost pulled together. I had to do my usual organizational tactic of spreading papers all over the office floor--and there are some bits that I didn't expound on too much (or decided to eliminate altogether)--but I think that all I'll have to do tomorrow is double-check the organization, review and print out the actual application, and put all the pieces in the binder. Most of today was spent gathering the documentation for my various claims: photocopied pages demonstrating that I really did publish or present what I said I did, class handouts, samples of student work, and so on. As I pulled the documentation together, I made sure I had some kind of descriptor in the application itself: that's the part I want to review carefully tomorrow, after an overnight breather. I probably will have to make a trip to campus Friday morning to submit the finished product, as I doubt I'll get it done before the office closes tomorrow--but c'est la vie.

Class today was somewhat painful but not intolerable. I gave everyone some time to pull together questions from their journal-logs, glossaries, and the novel itself, then we again sat in a circle and went around, each student in turn asking a question. I'm rather astounded by the questions: they're not asking about the stuff I think is most important, which worries me some, but as I explained to Kayla, A) I refuse to spoon-feed them what they should be getting, and B) once they start working on their papers, either they will start to notice what's important or I can point it out to them: "Remember the bit where...?" It's also that time of semester when I feel I'm pretty much finished teaching--apart from feedback on their in-progress papers. As Kayla said, if they haven't gotten what they need in the past three months, they're not going to get it in the next three weeks.

One student--the one who started out silent but who has woken up nicely as we've embarked on the novel--asked if I had a model to show for how to begin this essay. I said that the process is very much what they've been doing all along: same approach to the first paragraph and the gathering of evidence. But then I acknowledged that I'm testing out a new process, with them as my guinea pigs. I said that my previous method hadn't worked very well, so I'm hoping this will work better. I think they appreciate knowing that. If nothing else, it demonstrates that I'm trying to help them do as well as possible.

Speaking of which, I did tell them they can revise their journal-logs for the novel, if they've been getting bad marks--and if they've missed some, they can turn them in for partial credit (better than a zero). I also told them that if they've not done their glossaries to date, they can produce one big one for next week, and I'll use the grade on that for each submission they should have been making all along. I did, however, warn them to focus first on their in-progress papers. Way more important. It will be interesting to see what I get. My guess is that, as usual, the best students will take advantage of the opportunity and do better; the students who really need to take me up on the offer won't.

I also spoke with one student after class. He'd e-mailed me over the weekend, concerned about his absences and his work. Turns out he doesn't have to worry about absences--he's at but not over the limit--but his work is another story. I asked what he'd been hoping to get out of the class, and he said he'd wanted a B but could see that wasn't possible; he also said he was unhappy with himself because he'd wanted to do better with time management this semester and had not been able to do that. I told him I agreed with him that he had the potential to earn a B, but that obviously this was a difficult semester for him. I'm leaving it up to him whether he wants to withdraw or gut it out, knowing he won't get the grade he wants; we discussed his options, and I told him to think it over and let me know. I also told him I'd hate to lose him from the class--and he said that made him feel good, that he felt much better about himself and the situation because I said that. I find that touching.

There are two other students in the class who are facing the "withdraw or fail" decision. One of them I don't mind losing: he's loaded with potential but he's opting to spend his time stoned, which is maddening, and a shame. But since that's his choice, I'm more than happy to let him deal with the consequence. The other student who is in that situation I truly hate to lose. She's also had a snake-bit semester, lots of personal problems, but when she's there, the whole class dynamic shifts into a higher gear: she's intelligent and personable and filled with energy. But she has six absences, and that's the "no options left" point--never mind the fact that she didn't turn in her second essay at all and has missed other assignments.

If I lose all three of them--and I probably will--that leaves ten students out of the initial twenty-four. Ouch, but typical.

I spent some time with Kayla after class, coming up with a game plan for Monday, when the first in-progress portion of their papers is due. I'm going to mix peer review with conferencing; we'll see how it goes.

And I'm looking at my calendar for next week. Jesus, I've made things hard on myself by trying to accommodate a life in addition to marking papers. Shit. Oh well.

But there are only four more weeks of the semester, and only three of them will require any kind of grind. Hoo-fucking-ray. With that vision of the end of the tunnel before me, it's time to figure out what I want for dinner tonight and get the hell out of here. I have to make a stop at Staples for more supplies for the damned application, but then it's unwind time in spades. Woof indeed.