Almost there...

Remember the scene in the first Star Wars movie, when the Rebel forces are trying to destroy the Death Star? One of the Rebel pilots is heading for the teeny spot where the bomb must be dropped, with a couple of Ti-Fighters on his tail. He keeps saying, "Almost there.... Almost there...." right until he's clipped by a Ti-Fighter, runs into a wall, and is blown to smithereens.

OK, so I don't think that's what's going to happen (even metaphorically), but every time I think, "Almost there!" I hear that guy's voice in my head.

One student showed up for Nature in Lit today. OK by me: we essentially had an extended conference about his paper and "class" finished early. He has some ideas; he just hasn't yet learned to recognize a good thing and dig into it. Instead, he drops them amongst the dross and goes blindly on his way. Well, he's young, and learning. The other student who is working to complete the course dropped her paper off later in the day; I'm in the process of marking it up (easy) and will give it back to her on Thursday. Wonder Student has gone AWOL since deciding to go for the incomplete. I'm letting it slide; he's struggling enough as it is. I'll get in touch with him over the summer to see how he's coming along.

As for 102, all but one of the remaining students showed up today. One asked questions about works cited pages, so I decided to go over that with everyone, again. After that, most of them trooped off; three remained to go over stuff with me. Silent Bob, who has truly been struggling, finally got it (or plagiarized, but I choose to remain positive--and the writing "voice" genuinely did sound like his). I've heard him say more in the last three weeks than I did the whole rest of the semester. I'm hoping the experience helps bring him out of his shell a bit.

The plagiarist had turned in his "revised" paper--but he compounded the error of plagiarism, simply moving the uncredited ideas further from the original language (making it more like stealing), still without any citations or even an entry on the works cited page. Well, I gave him the chance. I don't know if he can pass the class now; we'll see how it all shakes out.

And the darling thing (Former Ms. Chip) has terrific ideas and is pulling them together beautifully. I'm most happy with her work of anyone's. She showed me some sentences she'd been working on, and as I pointed out logic problems, missing connections (through asking questions, of course), she'd smile as she saw the light. Truly lovely--both the young woman herself and watching her open up and warm up and learn.

The one missing student--Mr. Shrug and Smirk--chased me down as I was walking back to my office (the class period wasn't quite over, but I wasn't going to hang out for him). He had missing journal-logs and glossary entries from the past few weeks, but I had wanted to talk to him about his grade being in trouble. We went over what he turned in and what he missed--and I pointed out that a lot would be riding on that final paper. "Why is it that it always comes down to a gamble on the last paper?" he asked. Yes, I responded, why is that? He admitted that the problem is actually his time-management skills; he alluded to his recent bout with severe depression, how last summer he "lost" his management abilities--and I said that indeed, this is what happens: things come up in our lives and we need to learn how to allocate our time all over again. But he seemed much more pleasant, less of the shrugging, smirking attitude he's known for, more of a genuine concern to do well. As I said to him, he has the native intelligence to do well; what he's missing is the drive to work hard enough to do something with that intelligence.

Once again, there it is. Intelligence alone is not enough. Hard work along is not enough. Both are required, in pretty much equal measure.

In any event, the experiences with the students today were positive enough that I don't feel as pissed off and downtrodden about Assessment crap as I might otherwise. It will be interesting to see what the result of Wednesday's meeting is; I hope we get some people lined up to do the work, because it's a lead-pipe cinch that I'm not gonna do it.

This is my new approach to committee work, by the way. I point out a problem and suggest what must be done to fix it. Then I leave. If it actually gets fixed, someone else is going to have to get his or her hands dirty. I'm a consultant only.

Oh, but back to class: I don't remember if I mentioned, but I've decided to add an option to the end-of-semester self-evaluation for 102. They may write a brief essay, which is what I've always asked them to do in the past--or they may opt to write a letter to next semester's students, describing their own experience and letting the future students know what to expect, and what they'll get out of it. I'll be interested to see who takes which option. I did say that I'm taking submission of a letter as granting permission to distribute it to other students (after removing the student's name, of course)--and that proviso may reduce the number of people who go for that option. But we'll see.

Advisement was fine--and (as tends to be the case at this time of year) the best part was that there weren't many students to deal with, so I could spend time doing my own stuff--such as reading over the clauses in the current contract about retirement, particularly early retirement. Yesterday I suddenly thought, "Wait, I'll turn 57 next year; could I take an early retirement?" The answer is, "Sure, if you also win the lottery."

Ah well.

Tomorrow I'll come in at about 9 and finish off the last of the year-end evaluations I have to comment on for P&B, plus whatever other noodley bits I can get done before 10. At 10, I start on summer adjunct scheduling for Bruce. I hope I can get a good jump on it; I'm getting rolling a bit late, and there's a lot that needs to be done. Summer contracts get signed the week after spring classes end, so we need to have the schedules put together next week at the latest--mostly so people can refuse what they're offered, and we still have time to scramble for replacements. Then there will be the last minute adjustments because of classes not running, or being added... but Bruce will have to deal with most of that. By that time I'll be up to my antlers in scheduling full-time faculty.

Woof.

Tonight, however, I'm going to head out of here early. Theoretically, doing so means I'm blowing off my evening office hour, but I've been here so many other non-office-hour evenings that I don't feel guilty about it. I'm liking the fact that it's now light out when I wake up--even when the alarm is for 5:30--and that it's still light when I get home. But it does screw with my sleep patterns. (How can I start winding down for sleep? It's still light out; surely it isn't even time for dinner yet.) So, I want to get home and get myself settled while it is still light. That way, as soon as it's good and dark, my peepers can slam shut for the night.

And tomorrow is another day.