Lots of heavy sighs

Jesus, I'm just hammered. I get these surges of desire to do things that are interesting--prep for the Mystery and Detective Fiction course I'm teaching in the fall (at least I think I'll be teaching it; it's what I assigned myself, but Bruce hasn't distributed the finalized schedules yet), work on the project with Paul, even start work on the paper I'll be presenting at ASLE in May/June--but then my energy goes pffffffft, and all I want to do is go home and stare at the TV, or read popcorn. I will say that the next batch of popcorn reading is all going to be stuff under consideration for the Mystery course: I love mysteries, and I don't have to read them as a scholar just yet; I only have to consider whether they seem like something the students can get through. One of my colleagues is our resident expert in this stuff--he really knows the deal--so at some point I'm going to sit down and pick his brains. I have a copy of his syllabus (interesting), and the syllabus of another colleague who teaches the course (weird as hell: it's almost all theory, very little of the literature itself--for a community college??), but I also have to figure out my own hook on the thing. I've got time--but time does have a way of disappearing faster than one might think.

That desire to dim the wattage on my brain activity is somewhat problematic. For example, I took home a bag full of papers to grade for the 102 classes--and grading them isn't that hard, as I don't have to comment much (the comments consisting almost exclusively of "better" or "same problem")--but I couldn't make myself even pull them out of the damned bag. In fact, I almost forgot the bag was there, very nearly headed back to campus this morning leaving it on the table in the living room (and we know the dratted cats won't grade anything, even if I tie the red pens to their little paws).

I spent the time in Advisement grading the next batch of mini-papers for Native American lit (I'm still waiting for a few), and I did get a few of the 102 papers done--not many, but some. The Advisement staff are putting on a little "appreciation" lunch dealy tomorrow, which technically I could attend (it's during club hour, and I don't have a committee meeting), but I'm not going. Not only do I not feel like socializing (or not with them in that setting), I'd rather use the time to crank through more papers.

But thinking about the 102 classes: today's sessions were interesting. A lot of people were absent (many of them seem to have blown up over the first paper, including a few who had potential, dammit)--but I didn't do the usual group thing. We churned through the stuff I didn't do with them last Wednesday, when I canceled class, and got a start on the poems they read for this week. Their logs have been unmitigated shit--one or two crappy responses--and I told them that they need to do more at home, even if it's "wrong." So we went through the two poems we covered today slowly, carefully, and after the first one, I said, "OK, so how did we just do that?" A lot of the students looked like they'd been whacked with a two-by-four at the question, but in each class, at least one student was able to step outside the process and see how it had worked: "We went through it a little at a time, working from individual words to associations and how they connect in the poem as a whole." Bingo. Do that in your logs, people. I gave them the opportunity to take their logs home and add to them, as well as adding class notes--and I'm hoping I see better results. If not, it won't be because I didn't give them as much guidance as I possibly can.

But one student in the earlier class is driving me batshit. Not the one who was trying to joke me out of my standards, but another--I don't know if I mentioned him--who keeps pushing me to let him turn in work late. No. He's one of those foreign-born students who is superficially very respectful, but I can tell that he's furious with me. He gives me the "Yes, Miss. Yes, Miss" response to things--but then he tries to either talk over me or he keeps pushing when I've already given him my answer. Today, he said he didn't understand why he couldn't turn in the work that was due last Monday--a week late. Because, I explained, the homework is there for us to use on the day it is due: it provides the basis for the in-class work of that day. If you don't have it when we're using it in class, it is no longer of any value. That's why there are due dates: because we are actually using the stuff on that date. (I didn't pull out the analogy of class work and work for one's job: if your boss gives you a task and tells you to have it done by a certain date, is it OK if you turn it in a week late? Why not? But if he keeps at it, I will.) I was saying to Paul, I can't wait for him to withdraw. I hope to hell he does, and the sooner the better. Of course, among the things he didn't get done in time was the first version of his paper, so of course the final version is an utter train wreck, on every level, ideas to sentences. I think, what with all the penalties, the final version was a 34. Out of 100. No doubt he'll be furious about that, too, but you know what? Shit work is shit work, and if he'd wanted to do good work, it behooved him to get the first version to me in time to get my feedback.

But I'm not annoyed.

Nor am I annoyed about the student who blew up last semester because of absences and missed work--despite real intellectual promise--and who is doing it again this semester. Nor the other student in that same section (the later one) who also has a lot of promise but has been absent more than he's been present. He may be over the six absence limit, in fact, which would be a hell of a shame. But if this is the only thing they learn in my class--that requirements are actually required (amazing though the concept may be)--then it's still a valuable thing to learn.

I'm reminded of the student I had very early on in my career at NCC who was furious that he failed the class--when he had eight absences. I reminded him that my policy is that six absences means the only options are withdraw or fail, and he said, "But I was only two over the limit."

"Limit." "Requirement." These are apparently very flexible terms, subject to negotiation--or simply to be ignored.

But I'm not annoyed. (Anyone wonder why my neck muscles went into spasm last week?)

Well, whatever. I'm about to figure out what goes home with me, what stays here, and get on the road to home. I hope to be in good and early tomorrow so I can get a good whack in before P&B--and hope I'll have slept enough that I can also get a good whack in after class, before those mental lights start to dim. But getting enough sleep won't happen if I don't start the wind down soon, so off I go, into the wild blue yonder.