Crossing things off the list

Gawd, it feels good to get something done, utterly, completely, "this requires no further action on my part" done. I finished the minutes for the Chancellor's Award Committee and just sent them off to all the various places they need to go, and I did the cover letter for William's application (my other task on that committee). Now all I have to do is finish my summary of my own application; then I won't have to do anything else involving Chancellor's Award until spring--unless something utterly unexpected arises. Which is possible, but I'm hoping unlikely.

Of course, I still have a pant-load of student assignments to mark for next week, and photocopies to make, and and and, but tomorrow I have nothing to do but sit around the apartment and wait for my spanking new fiber-optic internet service to be installed, so I plan to chip away at the work--with many breaks, but turning it over. There are other bits of committee flotsam for me to tend to, but my main objective for the next week is to have the decks as clear as possible before the arrival of first versions of papers from the 102 classes. I'll be getting those next Thursday, so next weekend will again be filled with work at home. I might as well resign myself to the fact that this is going to happen with some frequency. But I also am determined to reduce the frequency, to continue to do less and to do it more efficiently, turning more of the actual gut work over to the students.

In terms of today's classes, I was deeply disappointed that the young woman who had so impressed me the first day of class has already decided to withdraw from the earlier section of 102. She's not wimping out; she has a horrific work and class schedule, and she simply doesn't have the time. She said that she'd try to sign up for 102 with me again next semester, and I hope she does; it would be very interesting to see what her potential truly is. But losing her reduces the mental wattage in an already somewhat lunky class. They did a little better today, once we actually got talking about the stories, although when I tried to get them to paraphrase the definition of "theme" I provided (so I could be sure they understood it), I got a resounding silence--and obvious evidence of panic. I asked one young woman what "expand" means, and she shrugged "I don't know." I said, "Oh come on; you know what 'expand' means," and she finally gave a definition (to happy encouragement from the professor)--but the fact that she was unwilling to hazard even that much clearly demonstrates the level of fear in the room. I said to them all, "Tell me what you're confused by, what you're having a hard time with" and still got silence. I said, "You can't possibly give the wrong answer if I ask you to tell me what confuses you"--but still silence. Ah well. I'll just be happy that they were able to get into the story discussion with some vigor.

The other class, however: that's a whole different dance. They were willing to take stabs at the definition of "theme"; they had great ideas about the stories--and they're starting to recognize what they're doing wrong in their idea logs, beginning to get a grasp of what would be right. Somehow, despite the clear instruction in the PowerPoint to read the entire story first, then log, plus the fact that I've written that on their logs several times, a number of them (in both classes) said today, "I realize I need to read the entire story first before I do my log; that's good advice"--as if today in class was the first time they'd ever heard it. Something is wrong with the translator microbes, apparently. (Farscape reference.)

As I mentioned, the later class did a terrific job discussing the stories. As was the case in yesterday's Short Story class, I'd say at least 75% participated in the discussion. ... Actually, I just checked: of the 20 students who were there, 15 made at least one contribution, so that's 75%, right? It's interesting to note, also, that there were 20 (out of 24) students in that class, all prepared with their logs. In the other class, there were more absentees and more who came to class unprepared and had to leave. Class chemistry: it's a mystery.

Right now, I've got that slightly gritty, acidic feeling in the eyeballs that comes from being under-slept--but a bunch of folks from dance class are meeting at a local club tonight, and I'm going, dammit. I'll take myself out for a quick dinner, and then dance until my feet hurt too much to continue; it'll be the perfect way to end the week--and what are weekends for if not napping?