Well, hmmm.

Of course, it is already time to play the song that goes, "I thought I'd get more done today." That seems to be on repeat play mode (along with any number of other songs that get far to much repetition). Part of me feels I should set an early alarm and try to get in well before class, so I have at least a partial chance of getting some of the assignments marked for tomorrow's classes, but a much larger (and probably more sensible) part says that sleep is going to be far more important--and I'll be out late tonight (going into the City for a flamenco workshop that will be happening over the next four weeks; yes, I've lost my mind).

But more important to record for today is the fact that I have serious concerns about this 101. I asked the students who had read the extra credit assignment ("Ten Things Every College Professor Hates") to say something to the class about what was in it, or what struck them. Silence. Finally, "What was the question?" I repeated it, and elaborated: did anything surprise you or stand out. Same student: "Did anything surprise me? No." (Oh, good: I'm so glad you're willing to talk about it.) I let the silence ride for a while and then I had to say, "This class runs on your participation. If you don't contribute to the class discussion, this is going to be a very long and very boring semester. Education is not a spectator sport. If you aren't willing to get your hands dirty, you aren't going to get anything out of this experience." Well, then a few more students were willing to share what they had read--including the author/professor's statement that we like students who at least pretend they're interested. Yes! I said. If you hate being here, at least pretend you like it, pretend you're interested. It doesn't hurt you, and it will make me a lot happier, and everyone will find this much more enjoyable.

So, then we went over the "quotation for consideration" (Sumner on critical thinking), and although at first I wasn't going to put them in groups, I decided they would do a lot better that way. One group was refusing to talk, so I went over to them and suggested ways they could get into a conversation--even about what confused them. Other groups were also confused but working hard to make sense of the thing; a couple of students got the ideas pretty well. One student was looking for every possible opportunity to fall asleep. And one has made it manifestly clear that he is not happy being in a class with a strict professor and a lot of work. My snap analysis is that he comes from a wealthier area than many, may have gone to a more prestigious school (possibly even Chaminade, in which case, a couple more red flags will go up about this kid): he's bright and capable--and fiercely resistant to anything that looks like hard work. I'll call him Chip, because of the one on his shoulder. But in a nifty little bit of irony, I cannot tell from the photos on my roster which one he is: there are several Average Middle Class White Boys in the class, all pretty much indistinguishable from their photos. He's one of them, but I haven't yet figured out which one. (When I get the face and name together calling attendance, I'll write "chip" on his photo; that will be one of them identified.)

Shifting gears slightly, but in the "the ship is sinking" department, the list of woes with one of our class buildings and with our book orders continues to grow. Some of the emails regarding the room situations would be funny if they weren't addressing a real problem (like one colleague who said that, even after having successfully removed the bees from the room, he didn't know how many students were able to stop thinking about bees). I'm in a completely different building, but today, all of a sudden, a leak appeared. Fortunately, it didn't drip on any students--and one of them was proactive enough to find a bucket and place it under the leak--but ... well, not a great teaching atmosphere. In addition, one of the cleaning crew apparently thinks she is invisible, as she keeps coming in while I'm teaching, walking up to the front, where I'm standing at the desk, and emptying the trash. Um, no. In the perpetual listing of complaints, colleagues have been pointing out that all of our efforts at retention (mostly having to do with dumbing down the curriculum so students don't get discouraged) will go for naught if they get here and feel they're trying to learn in a pretty squalid environment. The school has "poverty stricken" written all over it, and students aren't going to want to come here when there are other much nicer options available.

I feel very sorry for my colleagues who feel they have no choice but to stay here. I'm sure that eventually things will turn around and the campus will become a much more congenial place--but in the meanwhile, it's deeply disheartening to try to teach in such physically and psychologically miserable conditions.

I have some time before I have to take off, and if I were a stronger, more determined human being, I'd get some of those assignments marked. I may have it in me to put them in alphabetical order (maybe), but in general, I'm too tired to do much of anything at all (hence the decision to sleep rather than get up early to grade). It's the fifth day of the semester, and I'm already exhausted. (Fifty-five more to go!) Oh, yeah: retirement was the right decision. And then some.