"...just from that?"

An incident from Tuesday I forgot to record but rather like:

Before the SF class starts, I always end up erasing another professor's notes on the black (actually green) board. I mentioned a week or so ago that there was a long email brouhaha over whether it's rude or interesting to leave one's notes on the board ... and I try to remember always to erase before I leave, but I don't mind at all when other professor's don't. (I do mind when a colleague pressures me to be out of the classroom instantly after my class is over--or when a colleague stays in the classroom until I have to come in and chase the person out because my class is about to start--but that's a different issue.)

In any event, on Tuesday, when I came in and started to erase the board, a student asked what the notes were about and specifically why there was a note about "torture seasoning." Another student more accurately deciphered the handwriting and said that the note actually read "torture / suffering" (and there was some hilarity about how seasoning could be torture)--but then the student who had been baffled and mildly disturbed by the notes asked again what they were all about. I said, "The notes are from an ENG203 class, American Literature to the Civil War; they're reading narratives by former slaves from both the 18th and 19th century and discussing the various themes that come up, and where the themes are the same or different--so the 'torture and suffering' are themes in the slave narratives." The student's jaw dropped. "You got all that just from that?" he asked. I said, "This is my field; this is what I do." It really wasn't a very impressive feat for an ostensible Americanist, but for the students, it was astounding, like a mind-reading trick. Nope, just years of grad school and having taught 203 a few times.

And I didn't have anywhere near the optimistic ideal of five hours in which to grade--and I didn't make any appreciable progress in the grading with the time I did have. (Some time was lost to a decision to sleep a bit later than I'd intended--since I didn't get to sleep until almost 2 a.m.; more was lost to cleaning up snow enough that I could get out of the driveway; a bit was lost to getting handouts ready for today's class.) So I moved the deadline for the revision of essay 1 and I told the students that, if any of them want their essays back with comments over the break, they should email me and I'll scan the marked essay and send it. I don't think I'll get many takers, but whatever. It's the best I could do.

In the "good news" department, the colleague whose class I was supposed to observe got back to me and agreed that postponing until after the break makes sense. Unfortunately, the student from Nature in Lit whom I had agreed to meet after the observation has child-care concerns, so I still have to hang out here and wait for her to show at 7--but after that, I'm free and clear.

My meeting with the student from 101 went fine; I hope she has a better handle on what she needs to do in order to do better in the class. And I had a lovely meeting with the other colleague whose class I observed, so I can now write up that observation. (Another "I hope I do this over the break" thing that probably will not get done over the break.)

One other snippet to report: for the second time this semester, I've gotten a pitiful email from a student in Nature in Lit saying, "I don't understand this story; can you help me?" Well, first, it's not a "story" per se--but ... and then I have to explain how to read carefully. This is part of what I was doing with the student from 101, explaining how to read. I realize that I automatically read on three levels at once--those of us who are pretty literate do: we see the "big picture," we see details, and we see how details fit into the big picture. Students who struggle with reading sort of see the big picture--or they only see details--but they can't make the connections to understand how the bits fit into the whole (which of course means they don't truly understand the whole). As I keep having to talk students through the process, I realize that it's actually a relatively tricky thing to do--but it isn't one I can set up for them because I'd have to do so in writing, and, well, you see the problem. They can't read and understand my explanation of how to read and understand. So, I have to wait until students come to me pleading for help--the ones who are smart enough to realize they need the help--and then explain it. In the case of the students from Nature in Lit, I confess I explained in writing, but I could use specific examples from the text each student was struggling with, and that, I think, gives them something to hold on to.

I also am apparently going to have several conversations with students who do not understand why they got the low grades they got on their essays. In one instance, the answer is, "because you didn't actually say anything; you just paraphrased the work you were talking about." (I might note that the paraphrase also often indicated that the student didn't understand what the author was talking about.) But getting them to understand that well written sentences that don't actually mean anything are not sufficient to get a good grade.

Ah well. Those meetings will be fun and frolic for another time. For now, I'm going to noodle until the student shows up, and when she's gone, I'm going to do a little life maintenance and then ... as my friend Szilvia jokes, I'll deluxe.

Posting may occur over the break--but don't hold me to it. If not, I'll be back here, blogging, in April. ("April": that has such a nice sound. "May" would be better, but "April" is better than "March.")