And the book comes to a close

All the paperwork is submitted--and the 5:00 chimes just rang. I don't have to come back tomorrow to finish anything up or to turn anything in. And honestly, if any students email with complaints, I'm just going to ignore them. In fact, I just set up an automated reply that says, in essence, "I'm retired. Don't bug me."

The Mom got an A. Snotty Daughter got a B (which was a bit of a gift, actually). Scattered Woman got a C+. The Drifty Intellectual got a B.

There are a couple of grades that are higher than the student really deserved--and one I could have rounded up and chose not to. But mostly, I feel like the grades are pretty accurate. I wonder if the teacher I was in 2001 would look at the student work and feel the same way, or whether, over time, my standards did gradually sink. Probably.

On a completely different front, I just realized I meant to take the plants down to the main office so someone could water them over the break and I didn't. I think I'll just water the hell out of them tonight and hope they survive three weeks--since I do have to come back in January to deal with those incompletes.

And speaking of incompletes: I realized yesterday that I had offered one to a student in the 102 and then completely forgot about it. I just gave her the gift of a grade on the first version of her second essay, which she didn't actually submit. She muscled through a very difficult personal situation--and she truly deserved the A she got. (More than the Mom did, actually, though her A was mostly because she did every single homework assignment and got top marks on all of them--which bought her extra credit.)

As I was in here grading--and while the party was going on (which I very Scroogily stayed away from), a number of my colleagues came to wish me bon voyage--one even bearing a gift. Cathy told me that many more were asking where I was. Her official reason for my not being there was that I was feeling shy, which was a gracious excuse--a lot better than the real reason, which is, as I've said, I fucking hate those parties.

But it's over. There is clean up yet to do--which will take the spring, I imagine--so I don't really feel like it's over. I have no idea when it will actually sink in that I have, in fact, left this behind and am moving on to something else. Maybe not until I'm actually out west permanently. Who knows.

Nevertheless, the blog is not yet defunct--or I don't think it is, at any rate. I do intend to post when I'm in the Writing Center come January. But--unless something very unexpected happens--this is my last post for 2018.

And I wish you all bon chance.

Out of gas--but hopeful

I am almost completely done with the M/W 101, and I've made a good whack at the T/Th class. Since I have the Excel spreadsheets, the grade calculations are lightening quick: it takes mere moments for me to input the numbers and--bingo!--the result. The one thing I haven't figured out is how to get it to print the entire document two sided (it did the first and last records two sides, but none of the rest). I'm not being as detailed about how I record stuff on the final rosters, either, because, really, who cares? So that shouldn't take long either.

The rather spacey but philosophical and interesting student from 102 just dropped off the hard copy of his essay, and he does want comments, so I'll have to address that when I first get in. And to my amazement, the scattered woman who told me in tears yesterday that she just could not finish the essay actually did: she uploaded on time. And one student who emailed me just about when we started with the novel to say she was badly injured and wouldn't be able to make it to class finally responded to my email and sent her final essay--which will get over 100 points in penalties (under length, doesn't use the required research, no works cited page, wrong font/format). She also sent zero reading notes. I told her I'd crunch the numbers--but she isn't going to pass.

On the other hand, the student who plagiarized in the M/W 101 managed to squeeze out a D for the course--because I gave him an F rather than a zero for his final paper. Fair enough. He probably wouldn't have gotten much better than that anyway. It was interesting to see how the grades shook out. One student got a grade slightly higher than I'd have expected; one, slightly lower. But the rest were pretty much exactly what I'd have predicted.

Of course there is also the annoyance factor, that so far, two students who told me, oh, yes, they definitely want comments and will come to my office to get them ... didn't. One had the good grace to send me an email saying she wouldn't make it. I had the bad grace to respond and let her know I was more than a little annoyed to have done the work when she couldn't be bothered to come get it. And the student who decided not to withdraw, and to whom I foolishly guaranteed a D, also didn't collect her essay--so I sent her a less than gracious email, too, letting her know that I regret having made her the assurance, but since I did, I will honor it, even though I feel taken advantage of.

One student from the T/Th class showed up today; I'd sent her an email last night saying she couldn't pass and recommending that she come talk to me. She's a very quiet, shy, meek little thing, and I know she tried her best, but she really didn't have what it takes to make it. It still broke my heart to see her there, unable to look me in the eyes, tears pouring down her face. I did a quick calculation of what her grade would be if I didn't take any of the penalties on any of her essays--and it came out to a D. I explained the pros and cons of taking the D and moving forward into 102 versus withdrawing and retaking 101, and finally, when we realized she could get into a section of 101 that meets at the exact same day and time as the 102 she'd been in, she decided to make the switch. I sent her off with the withdrawal form; I hope she processes it quickly. There's always a bit of a gap before those W's are officially recorded--and I get in trouble if my grades are not fully submitted, even if I'm waiting for a student to process a W. Well, we'll see.

I also spent a good chunk of time with the adjunct whose student was in my office, complaining about his grade. It took a while for me to get clear on exactly what the student had or had not done, and how that reflected the course requirements. My strong feeling is she should just fail him; even offering a W is generous. But she believes that somehow she can work with him until he has a Road to Damascus experience and suddenly lights up and realizes he can write and do college level work. I tried to tell her that he won't see the offer as a gift; he sees it as punishment (because he actually has to do the work he's been trying not to do). She just really wants to try, so, OK, fair enough. But I told her to let him know that his only options at this point are take the incomplete (which he won't fulfill) or take an F--and that the woman he spoke to, and the chair of the English department, and the dean would all back her up. (Watch, he'll go to the dean of students or someone even higher up the pipeline. Fine. Let him.) I haven't heard anything about what transpired; I don't know if I will, but I truly would have flunked him if he'd been in my class. If she continues to work here, she'll have to learn what these students are like--and that some simply do not want to be educated. This particular student only wants to play on our baseball team. The rest, he doesn't give a flying fuck about.

The fact that I spent so long with the adjunct and with my poor, weeping student and still got as far as I got is why I feel pretty hopeful that I can get everything done tomorrow--maybe even in time to submit the paper rosters before the office closes. We'll see, but I truly am hopeful. I'm not so hopeful that I'll skip setting an alarm; I do think I need to be in about my usual time in order to get it all done. But as long as I don't have to be here until insanely late finishing up, I'll be very happy indeed.

Last classroom day...

What a bizarre, surreal thought that is: barring the unforeseen, today was the last day I will ever spend in front of a classroom of students as an English professor. I really can't take that in just yet. Strange indeed.

I was relatively busy in Advisement, but I got a nice compliment: the woman at the front desk told me that she was happy to have assigned a particular student to me, as she knew that he needed a little supportive encouragement and that he'd get it from me. Nice. And I am, actually, going to take that as my exit cue from Advisement--about which more in a moment.

The 102 was actually fine. Snotty daughter didn't show up, and Mom was so thrilled to have completed her essay that she was charming about the whole thing. They were fascinated with the dissertation thing, too. The only down note was that the other adult woman was simply incapable of pulling together her essay. She couldn't even make up her mind why: life too complex? school work load too complex? just couldn't get a hold on the topic? She was going around and around in endless circles--and very upset, because she really wanted at least a C. As it is, she's going to take the D and be content to have the requirement done so she can go on about her business. She's in our Health Information Technology degree--which is very focused just on getting students the knowledge they need to get jobs essentially processing medical records, so I don't feel I should pressure her to retake the class. In fact the opposite: I told her she needs to save herself the stress of trying to write the paper for tonight when she can't be sure that the result will get her the C in any event. (My hunch is it wouldn't.) But that makes my life a trifle easier: I can generate numbers that will get her the D, even if I have to fudge a bit.

The 101 was great--of course. They were filled with questions about all sorts of things--not just my education and career trajectory (which always fascinates them) but also things like how long it took me to pay off my student debt. (Answer: not long for what I had as an undergrad--and I honestly hardly remember having any debt, though I know I must have--but I got my doctorate debt free, an accomplishment I am very pleased about and for which I offer gratitude to the City University system for making education affordable.) At the end of class, I got the contracts for incompletes from two students, talked to a few others about little stuff--and then had to talk to those two students who hadn't uploaded. The very good student hadn't gotten my email, so when I started talking to her--having sent everyone out of the room--she started to cry, hugely upset. I quickly reassured her that I wasn't going to take a penalty of any kind; I just wanted to let her know that she needs to be very careful to quadruple check things in the future. The other student--who isn't even half as good, on any level--didn't seem to be too fazed by the whole thing, not even when I told her she probably wouldn't pass the class. I'll give her 50% what she would otherwise have earned and then I'll crunch the numbers. I told her that's a gift, but I don't think she realizes just how much of one--even though the end result may be the same: failure in the class.

I will say, when I was wrapping things up with them and reminded them that that moment was my last ever of that kind, I also told them that all semester, I had been thinking how grateful I was that I would finish my career in that room with that group of students, because they'd been great to work with. (And more of them stayed to the bitter end than I think has ever been the case for me.) I almost teared up--I almost could now, thinking about it--and I heard one of the students say, "I want to cry." They'll miss each other, too--though at the start of class, I heard that same student say, "We should keep in touch, hang out and stuff." I hope they do.

Switching back to the 102, the mom asked me why I decided to teach at NCC. I didn't tell her "It's where I got hired"--because, in truth, I could have kept looking, and refused the community college route. But instead I told her what I put in my cover letters: I felt like a missionary, and missionaries don't preach to the already converted; they have to go out among the heathen and bring them into the fold. At a nice liberal arts college, or at a university, I wouldn't have been so important: those students would do well no matter what. But here, I've made a real difference. I've changed lives--and not in insignificant ways. That matters to me. That's what I want to take with me when I go.

But that's not just yet. One student today asked me for comments; I told her I'd get them to her if I could. She has to drop off her self-evaluation on Thursday anyway, so I'll see her then--but I'll only provide comments if I get everything else pretty well done before she shows up. Other than that, I finished the essays for which the students requested comments, and I started the "skim, slap on a grade, move on" process for the rest. I probably could/should squeeze a few more out tonight, but instead, I'm going to bail on my last ever Advisement session (unless I find a way to get paid for them in the future) and just spend tomorrow here in the office, slamming through what I have piled up on the desk.

At the moment, I feel relatively confident that I will be able to get everything--and I mean everything--done by Thursday. I may not get the actual paper part of the paperwork done before the office closes, but if I have to trundle over here just to hand in those rosters on Friday, that's not terrible. The main thing is that I want to avoid having to be here grading/crunching numbers/filling in paperwork on Friday.

So yes, I'm sure I'll be posting to the blog tomorrow and Thursday--and I may continue the blog in the spring, filling readers in on those incompletes, talking about life in the Writing Center (assuming I get hours, which I'm pretty sure I will). And maybe talking about the process of cleaning out the office, which may make the Augean stables seem like a cake-walk in comparison. (Less smelly, but similar amounts of crap.)

And with that, my dears, I am going to stagger across campus to my car and take myself home. Until tomorrow.

The final winnowing

Detected one instance of just enough plagiarism to probably end up causing the student to fail--which would be a shame, as he has truly tried all semester. I hope he gets my email about it and comes in to talk to me. Depending on what he says, I may grant clemency--but only if he admits to the problem. One student withdrew. One student decided to gut it out--and I'm sorry I told her she'd get a D, as her final essay is nowhere near a passing effort. However, she is going to come to talk to me about her grade on Wednesday, and I can put the fear of god into her a that point.

Two students in tomorrow's class didn't upload their essays to Turnitin, despite my repeated exhortations. One is otherwise an excellent student; I sent her an email saying, "What happened?" I am almost certain that she "forgot," but I may grant clemency in her case, because she has been otherwise excellent. The other student, not so much. I don't know if I've mentioned her, but she's the one Paul would have booted in the second week, as she would not stay off her cell phone. Her work also was pretty shabby; clearly she didn't put a lot of time or energy into it, despite being "dedicated" to the class. (Um, no. Bat your big, blue eyes as much as you like, but I am not buying it. "Dedicated" would mean you'd actually work harder--and come to see me to find out how to get better marks.) I forgot to send myself the grade sheets from home (they're on that computer), which is a shame, as otherwise I'd total up her marks right now; my hunch is she may barely be passing, if indeed she's passing at all, at this point. I'm going to put the fear of god into her tomorrow, too--and I'll decide whether to be merciful or to follow my inclination and flunk her ass. I'll probably be merciful. I am more of a softy than I like to admit.

And somewhat to my amazement, Mom submitted the final version of her essay after all. I just took a look at it, and although I'd have steered her away from the "Indians and alcohol" thing--despite the fact that substance abuse is a very real problem in many Native communities, it always makes me uncomfortable, as if alcoholism is an inevitable part of being Native--but otherwise, she makes an actual argument. It's a bit shallow, but the shallowness kept her from going off the rails: it kept her focused. Good enough. I'll give it an A (though it may not quite deserve it)--and we'll see whether she manages to squeak out the A for the semester.

I'm already putting on my armor in preparation for meeting that class tomorrow. I am fully expecting a raft of veiled--or maybe not so veiled--snot from Mom and Daughter both. (Because, you know, they're good writers, so they shouldn't struggle and should automatically be considered excellent.) But we'll see.

The students today were remarkably open--and to my surprise, actually were very interested in hearing about my experience in grad school. I think part of it comes from the fact that they have enjoyed feeling like they have a professor who is intelligent and learned. (After all, I don't say "like" every second word, the way some of them do, and I can read with depth of understanding.) I'm happy to impress them; it doesn't take much, after all. I'll be curious to see if the other classes have similar responses.

As for tonight, I know I will regret packing it in so early; I really would like to get more done today, as I know I won't have much time tomorrow--and then I start seriously running out of time. I don't want to bail on Advisement--though I may opt to do so on Wednesday, depending on where I am with things. I am hoping it won't be very busy there tomorrow; I'm taking some work with me--though I know that all but guarantees that there will be students back to back throughout my two hours there. On the other hand, if the discussion in 102 doesn't take long, that could buy me a chunk of time. Ditto the 101.

But in between time, I may have to meet with an adjunct: I was actually called upon as the evening supervisor to talk to a student whose professor is one of our new hires this semester. And I definitely will have to meet briefly with Sabrina, the new assistant chair, to go over adjunct scheduling with her. (I asked Cathy whether I shouldn't maybe go over it with the new evening supervisor instead, but she felt that person--Christina--is too new at the position. I wanted to say, "So was I, and Bruce just threw me in the deep end." But that's one of the many differences between Bruce and Cathy.) So I'm not sure how my time is going to shake out.

Of course, that falls under the standard category "We'll see." I do hope I can get everything done by close of business on Thursday, but if not, I can always finish on Friday--even though that will set off huge waves of panic about also getting ready to travel on Saturday. Nevertheless, all that is worry for another day. Right now, what's most important is that I get my weary body home. It's rather nice, actually, that tomorrow is another day, because I'm really done with this one.

Well, mostly

I have told one student from the 102 that, even though he submitted his essay a little late, I will provide some comments for him. I was going to try to do that tonight, but I am out of gas. I did get all of them done for today's conferences--albeit, in one case, about 20 minutes before the student was due to arrive. One student didn't show up, which is very unlike him, and I'm now extremely worried, as I haven't heard anything from him. I hope he's OK.

Just for the record, Snotty Daughter sent an essay that was two pages under the appropriate length and that did exactly what I said not to do: engaged in lots of unsupported generalizations and almost no actual analysis of the novel. And Manic Mom emailed again, with a half-assed thesis, to ask if that was enough to act as a place-holder just in case she gets a chance to write the essay. I had told her that if she submitted a first version--even if it was very rough--I'd give her the same points on it that I would on the final version, but I had to let her know that two sentences would not be enough to get that deal. She can still do the final version if she wants, however. I came very close to saying, "If you can't make up your fucking mind, I'll make it up for you: you are now not allowed to do the final essay. Period." But I didn't. I did tell her that if she insists on having the perfect thesis before she starts writing, of course she's going to spin her wheels. She needs to have something that's good enough to get her rolling and then actually write the essay--not notes, not research, but actual paragraphs, in order, with evidence. Then she'll likely write her way into a thesis. But I bet she won't do that. I'll be surprised if she submits the final essay. And I'll be even more surprised if Snotty Daughter doesn't again act snotty about "having points taken off" because she did a half-assed job. Another student came in for a conference but hasn't even started writing her essay yet--and didn't really have an idea that she wanted to prove. I honestly will be very glad to see the back of those three.

But the other students were great in their conferences--and with my help, found solid matter to build their essays from. I have no idea what I'll actually get in the end, but I've done all I can do now. Really: I have done all I can do.

By the way, I didn't mention, but one of the students I met with yesterday, a very smart but extremely quiet young man, asked me at the end of his conference, "Do you know a lot about literature?" "Well," I said, "I do have a doctorate." He was looking at the wildly diverse (and over-stacked) books in the bookcase behind me. I told him I'd bring the dissertation to the final class. He wanted to talk more about the novel, too, and was going to meet with me today but then had to cancel.

I know the students are having a miserable time with this final essay--and they always do--but I think they have been more powerfully affected by the novel than they realized. I think it's going to live with them for quite a while. And that's pretty cool, actually.

Shifting gears: three students from today's class want comments on their essays. I'll find out how many in my other classes want comments when I met them next week. Like an idiot, I have now offered incompletes to three students. Two of them I offered earlier in the semester (and wish I hadn't with one of them, as although she's very bright, she hasn't been getting stellar grades). One I offered today. The student, from the 101, has been a good student--and has gone from borderline hostile to very open and friendly--but he didn't get the essay done because of serious life events. He was smiling when he told me what was going on, but his hands were shaking and he was jittering--which only got worse when I was kind to him about it and offered him the lifeline of the incomplete. I think he was trying not to cry. In any event, not only will I have a significant wodge of grading to do next week, I will now have three essays to read and evaluate, and three final grades to calculate, in January. I reckon it's just going to take a while for me to let go of this job.

I'm on the fence about whether to take record cards home with me over the weekend so I can input the numbers. I think I will, just in case I get a wild hair to do some work. It's working without really working, if you know what I mean. It would save me a little time next week, but wouldn't tax my brain. But grading? Nope. Not doing any. Not until next week. Then I'll be a madwoman, but what else is new? It's end of semester as it ever was.

God, give me patience...

A student came in to Advisement today. She had ten zillion questions--and could not understand my answers, no matter how I phrased them. She also had a habit of asking another question before I could answer the first one (or the second, or the third). Then, part way through my trying to explain things to her, a friend of hers showed up and they started talking to each other. I let that go on a lot longer than I should have--but then the friend also wanted to ask me advisement questions. (She also wanted to find out how she can have a "real" adviser--like a school counselor, someone there to answer whatever questions and provide general hand-holding--and I said, "Oh, you need a mentor." I told her to sign up for it in the spring. Maybe we picked up one for seminar hours.)

In any event, I talked with her (or with her and her friend) for over an hour--and she still was asking questions (and not understanding the answers). The maddening thing is that she is clearly very intelligent, and although English is not her first language, that wasn't the problem. She just wanted to over-complicate things beyond all belief, and could not, could not, hold on to the explanation from one minute to the next. She kept re-asking things, too, over and over. And wanted to have mutually exclusive options available. No, you can't be in more than one degree program at a time. No, if you do that degree, that course won't count. You can't say that the most important thing to you is the professor but also the days and times of the course; you have to pick one or the other.

I was ready to run around barking. Thank God I ran out of time, or I'd have been with her even longer, and I was truly ready to tear my hair out.

My own students were much better today. The 101 was super easy. I had to have a conversation with a couple about whether it was better to take a D or to withdraw (and one opted to withdraw), but it was all very civilized: no temper tantrums, just wanting to understand options and repercussions. The two students I met with in conference were fine.

And Mom has decided to bail entirely on the essay and just take a B for the course. She managed to both blame me for the fact that she was struggling and express appreciation for how well I "get" her and for all my help. I didn't slam her again for the blame, but when she said she thought the final assignment was challenging for a 102 (implication: too challenging), I said yes it is, and I think it should be. I also said that students who aim lower do better. (I didn't say, "You are the only one who is freaking out over it, so maybe that should tell you something.") But whatever. I think my response was measured and kind, and she's off the hook. So am I. That's good.

So, I only have two essays to mark for conferences tomorrow--which I may or may not get to before the conferences. One student may or may not show for her conference. One student is coming back for a second conference (which is great). And beyond the two essays to mark for tomorrow, I have another three to write comments for. Two that don't get comments.

And a wheelie pack full of essays from the 101. But I don't think I'll look at those until next week. Maybe--but I forgot to make sure that anyone who wants comments let me know, and will show up to retrieve the essay on Wednesday. We'll see.

But now, I need to dash out of here. I haven't done the swap over, what I need to take home and what I can leave here, and I have to get to my Wednesday evening appointment. So, onward and awkward, as I like to say.

Could I do more? Yes. Will I do more? Not a chance in hell.

I find it fascinating how fiercely I resent coming to work every day. After the exhausting push of the past few weeks, I'm actually not in bad shape right now, as these things go, and no matter what, I only have to come to work as a professor six more days. I should be feeling relief, but that light at the end of the tunnel keeps looking like the headlights of an oncoming train.

I know this is all really strange manifestations of the underlying anxieties and uncertainties about the whole retirement thing. I am both looking forward to it and petrified. And I want the transition to be over with already. My usual MO when dealing with anything potentially difficult is--although I may dither on the shore for a while--I am a run and dive off the end of the dock kind of person, not an inch slowly into the water getting used to it a little at a time kind of person. And in this case, I can't just take the plunge. It's all going to transition gradually, over time, and I need to learn to be OK with that.

Very little happened in terms of interactions with students today. Didn't see many in Advisement (the system kept going down). Only a few showed up to meet with me during class today--one, unfortunately (but wisely for him) to withdraw--and although I ended up being there the entire class period, it was hardly heavy lifting. I got another panic-stricken (and subtly accusatory) email from the Mom student--which I replied to at some length, responding to what was happening with her ideas. At the end of my response, I told her I wouldn't respond to her last two paragraphs, as I knew she was simply venting frustration and distress. I came close to saying, "However, I might caution you to refrain from venting in that manner to any professor. It can be taken amiss." I didn't though. And just now, I got a much calmer, more focused, intelligent email--in which she also thanked me for helping her and apologized for being "needy." (Not the word I'd use, but OK.)

I confess that one piece of "help" that I offered was to wait to give her a grade for the first version. She needs to upload something today, but she can upload anything: a complete hairball of ideas, under-length, an utter mess. That at least gives me something to work with, and I can give her comments. Then she has a week to finish up, and whatever grade she gets on the final version, I'll give her for the first version, too. (Essentially I'm informally doing for her what I'm doing more formally for the 101s: everything hangs on the final version grade.) I think that probably went further than anything toward calming her down, as she is frantic for an A. (At least she has a chance of making it; her daughter may get a B and be very disappointed.)

I had a couple of conferences, which were fine. I was a little afraid the last one might go on for a while, but we kept it to a reasonable length.

So, tomorrow, when I come in, I'll be commenting on essays for the two 102 students who have conferences set up with me for later tomorrow, and then I'll try to comment on essays for the additional six student who have conferences set for Thursday. (I may be working on some of those on Thursday itself.) Then I'll do comments on whatever else I get; there may be another four, or there may not. We'll see. Of course, any essay that is late gets zero comments.

And yes, that may mean that I have to bail on Advisement one more time. Or maybe I'll just conference with them without having the comments done and get the comments to them on Friday.

Whatever. It will all come out in the end. I'll bring the laptop to work with me tomorrow and Thursday, as there are still glitches with the electronic commenting process when I try to use the work computer, but that's fine: I can just sit at my desk with the laptop and do my thing.

And now, my "thing" is to go home and decompress until tomorrow morning. End of day is always a good thing.

Going down in flames...

I've started tallying the preliminary numbers for the 101 students, and I've already found two whose points are so low they really can't pass. I don't know why I feel guilty about not letting them know earlier, but every time this happens, I do feel guilty--even though I very clearly told them it's their job to track their marks, and if they fall below a certain number that they should see me
ASAP. But they don't. So I've suggested to two of them that they withdraw.

What I'm realizing is that my own students are victims of the fallacy that tripped up the student I saw in Advisement: they still have the high school mentality that homework "doesn't count"--or that if they just keep trying, they'll magically pass. A student showed up for his conference today, and I expected him to pull out a withdrawal form, as last week I had told him in no uncertain terms that he can't pass. I asked him why he'd brought an essay, and he said he wanted to keep trying. So I ran the numbers for him. He'd need a minimum of about 1,000 points to be within shouting range of squeaking out a D. He had something like 475 points. I may be exaggerating slightly, but the point remains that even if he'd gotten top marks on everything else that remains (which isn't much), he couldn't earn enough points to get close to the D. I explained to him that when professors say "You can't pass," we really mean, "You can't pass." I explained again about the advantage of a W, and the futility of his putting in more effort--or my spending time to comment on an essay--when the end result would still be an F. He finally got the picture, so I gave him a withdrawal form on the spot. I hope he remembers to take it to the Registrar. I did tell him he needs to, but they often forget that step.

Two students who had arranged to have conferences with me today suddenly couldn't make it, so I've told them they have to sign the contract about the change in grade policy. Of the 101 students, I actually met with two out of five who had scheduled appointments. (One simply didn't get here on time--which has been a problem for her all semester.) I did, however, see a student from the 102 class, who wanted some guidance before he wrote his essay--and I'm glad he got it, as he was all set to write a very generic essay about the "plight" of Native Americans in general and forget that he has to focus on the novel. I think he gets it now.

But Mom wrote me an email that was clearly venting. She wrote over the weekend asking me a zillion questions, and I clarified. She's been bitching about not having enough time to develop this challenging project (though she got the assignment sheet two weeks ago), and she keeps wanting to get into a sort of "racial determinism" argument--that the character follows another because Indians are natural hunters sort of thing--and I keep telling her no. I also am trying to explain that she needs to keep it simple and focused and not follow every rabbit trail. So today, I got this. I'm changing some of the language, to protect her identity at least a little, but this is the gist:

"I've been reading, and thinking about the topics, and I'm getting nowhere. I can't prove an argument without the kind of research I want to do using a general web search [rather than the databases]. I don't like how this makes me feel--and I'm putting all this wasted time and energy into this assignment and neglecting my family as a consequence. I'll try to respond to one of your suggestions, but it feels like it just leads me to a bunch of general observations and not an argument. If the topic were more clear and neatly lined up for me, I could do it, but this assignment is just the worst I've ever gotten as a student. I'm not having fun, and I'm not being productive. I'll keep on being terrible to my family and just hope that this is all over by the deadline tomorrow."

She might as well have ended with what another student said to me once: "Thanks for ruining college for me."

I came very close to sending her an email that said, "I understand that you are frustrated, but don't dump it on my doorstep. It's not my fault if you are choosing to slight your family to do your school work, nor is it my fault that you find the assignment challenging. You want this to be a math equation, but it isn't: it's a literature assignment. Stop trying to guilt trip me about how miserable you are. This is college. Suck it up." Fortunately, a wiser impulse arose, and all I told her was that I can't help her with her family but I will try to help her with the essay. However, I explained, finding a focus, finding an argument, is precisely what she needs to learn to do. That's the actual thing that the course is designed to teach her, so if she can't do it, she hasn't gotten out of the class what she needs to get out of it.

A whole bunch of things annoy me about this. One, I hate it when adults get whiny like kids (and she's every bit as bad as her daughter right now; I can see where the daughter gets the snotty attitude). Two, at the start of the semester she complained about the fact that things aren't set up in nice, clear, fill-in-the blanks and solve for X formats--and although I thought she understood the fact that not all disciplines work that way, apparently she still thinks the class should be easier--because, of course, she's a good student, so she shouldn't be struggling.

We have a conference on Thursday; it will be interesting to see how she reacts then. I sort of feel she owes me an apology, though I doubt I'll get it. I may suggest to her--gently--that she might think twice before she hits "send": venting to a professor, especially suggesting there is something wrong with the professor and the assignments, is not a great strategy, on any number of levels. Not only does it have a tendency to piss the professor off, it also tends to derail any desire on the part of the professor to provide constructive help.

Ah well. Whatever.

So, here at the bitter end, I may end up seeing the usual kind of double-digit attrition I usually see, and I may get the kind of "let me slam the professor now that the class is over" "self" evaluations I have often gotten in the past. And yes, if I get any snotty feedback from Mom or Daughter at the end of the semester, I'm half tempted to tell them about the student who said "thanks for ruining college for me" and then say, "it's because of students like you that I am retiring early; thanks for ruining my career for me." I won't, of course--not because I'm a bigger person than that but because I do still care about my professional reputation. But it leaves a bad taste in my mouth, I have to say. And this class was so great for most of the semester. Mr. Hyde seems to be making an appearance, now that the stress is on.

Shifting gears, the colleague I am mentoring for promotion has been hit with one disaster after another, so I don't know if I'll have a chance to look at her application again before I am no longer a member of P&B. Other than that--and one last set of minutes--I believe I have fulfilled the remaindr of my responsibilities.

Advisement was a steady stream of students. One seemed completely disengaged until I said something to him about whether he needed to be somewhere else. He said he was just really tired. I asked whether he could soak in what I was saying, and then he became much more alert--and the difference in affect was astounding. He went from seeming like a borderline hostile lump to seeming like a young man who truly wants to do well. Another kid wanted me to do his schedule. I explained I wouldn't do that, but I could talk to him about how to make it and make suggestions about which classes to take. He didn't seem to want to do any of that--but then it turned out that both his mom and the friend who was giving him a ride home were hounding him. I gently suggested he come back when he had enough time to actually get the information he needs. But mostly it was just the usual drill. Turning the crank, as my dad would have said.

Tomorrow should be pretty easy: first Advisement, then I'll show up for the 102 to talk to whoever decides to come, then I'll hold a few conferences. That will be it. And now, I'm going to take my aching head and weary body home for a quiet night.

Oh, thank god.

Everything is graded. I have--as far as I can tell--absolutely zero student work in my hands at the moment.

I confused hell out of the 102 students, because I realized we had nothing to do next Tuesday--I kind forgot about peer review--so I ended up having to send an email detailing what will happen each day between now and the bitter end. Tuesday, I'll be there, but I'll be working with anyone who shows up, on whatever that person wants to talk about. I also realized that I can, in fact, get the essays commented on and send to the students--though not necessarily in advance of their conferences. Still, I can send the comments post conference, so they can get a more detailed set of responses from me. There just aren't a lot of students left. But I also adjusted things so we'll finish on the final Tuesday, not Thursday, as originally planned. I'll collect self-evaluations on Tuesday, along with final essays--though if students can't get those done by Tuesday, I'll collect them on Thursday (because they're worth something like 20 points and I can do them in about 5 minutes max). Whew.

I did have a long and difficult talk with one student before class. She's sweet, and she's been trying her damndest all semester--and has been worrying about whether or not she'd pass--and I finally realized that, purely on a sentence level, her skills are so below what's required I really can't pass her unless she can get the help to write sentences that make sense and are at least close to grammatically correct, punctuated properly, and so on. After some talking, I told her that we'd just put all our effort into her final essay. I won't even worry about the ideas: we'll just focus on getting the sentences to work. I haven't yet given her a grade on the second essay--originally, I was going to have her redo that one, correcting sentence-level problems, but I realized there really isn't time for that now--but if she can pull out a final essay that is at all passable, I'll give her a passing grade for the class, whatever I have to adjust to her marks along the way. Bless her heart: English is not her first language, and she has never been taught to write correctly--and has gotten this far without anyone saying, "Nope, you're not ready for the next step." She tried to tell me that she's going into business, so she doesn't need to "be good at English," but I reminded her that she will have to write for business, too....

And the plagiarizing student showed up today to find out where to get a withdrawal slip. I actually had some with me, so I filled it out for him there--and I apologized to him. I said, "You did fix some of the plagiarism, just not all of it--and there were other problems as well." He didn't seem pissed off any more; I guess he got it out of his system (or was putting on a hell of a good act)--and I think my apology helped. (I also wasn't cranky with him; that may have helped too.)

Another student in that class needed a talking to as well. He's very bright but ... drifty. He speaks very slowly, tends to look off into space, ambles in late, ambles out slowly. I had to tell him that his attendance was a real problem (he showed up in the last 15 minutes of class today--and he might not have come in, except I happened to go out into the hall, saw him, and told him to go ahead on in so I could talk with him). I explained that it "reads" as disrespectful--and as if he doesn't give a fuck about the class. (And yes, I said "fuck.") He was obviously taken aback by that: he'd never considered it in that light, I'm sure. In any event, he probably will come in to talk about the novel on Tuesday. And another student from the class specifically asked if he could talk to me individually about the novel, as he feels so frustrated by the indeterminate ending. Sure, happy to do it.

So, next week is shaping up to be ... interesting. I will see a slew of students on Monday right after my advisement stint, then a few on Tuesday when my 101 would normally meet. (Two more students need to let me know whether they're going to conference with me or do the "one and done" option.) Wednesday I have two conferences with 102 students, and Thursday, I'll see four more--scattered across the day, with huge gaps between them. (Excellent: time to comment on the essays for the students who are not conferencing with me, if I haven't gotten a chance to do it before then.) I can easily do all my Advisement time. Of course, once I get all the final stuff in, on Wednesday, Thursday, and next Tuesday, there will be the mad push to the finish, but that's completely do-able. I've decided that anyone who wants comments on her or his essay will have to make an appointment with me to retrieve the essay with comments. No more of this leaving stuff on my office door that never gets collected.

I probably "should" stick around for a bit to input the appointments in the Writing Center software, but fuck it. I'm already here later than I wanted to be. I canceled on the colleague with whom I was going to have dinner tonight (better for her, too, as it turns out, as she's coming down with a cold), because I am so fucking tired. I had a complete blast last night. Cathy bailed, unfortunately, but the four of us had our usual brilliant time--and I didn't feel tired at all, or cranky, while I was out. I also wrote to a colleague who has been using my cell and home phones to contact me and explained that it isn't just a "preference" but a real boundary that matters to me. She was apologetic, which made me feel bad: I wasn't clear with her, and I told her that. The miscommunication was my fault. So I'm not cranky about that, either.

In fact, I'm not cranky about anything at the moment. I'd better get out of here while that's still the case.

Calculated risk

I have four more essays to grade for tomorrow's class, and one other essay-esque thing that I got late from a student but that shouldn't take too long. That's a dangerous amount to try to fit into the 75 minutes I have between classes, but I'm going to try it anyway. I am out of steam for today. If I weren't going out with the gang, I might take everything home, nap, and then try to crank out at least one or two more, but, well, I am going out with the gang, so never mind that idea.

And I do not want to call in sick to Advisement again. I don't usually go in on Thursdays, but I'm making up time that I missed for conferences a while back, and since I missed two of my three regular days this week, I figure the least I can do is make up that time. I am taking the essays with me, in the highly unlikely event that I have time to work on anything between students, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'm the only faculty adviser during the time when I'm there; most people have committee obligations in that time slot, but the few committees I'm on don't tend to meet during club hour. Of course, one of them is, in fact, meeting tomorrow--Seminar Hours--but I told Scott at the start of the semester that I would be pretty functionally useless this term, and that has certainly been the case.

So, tomorrow I have to finish up those essays and do P&B minutes. If I have additional time, there is at least one promotion application I need to look at. I got a call earlier from the person I'm mentoring for promotion, but I didn't want to take it. I have told her repeatedly to communicate with me by email, not phone; I absolutely fucking refuse to deal with work stuff on my personal communication devices, either cell or home. I will listen to her message when I get home tonight--and I will reply by email. I can try to find time to talk with her in person tomorrow--but I know she's going to be all wound up about something having to do with her promotion application (probably that it was not submitted on time), but I am not going to either talk her down about it nor get my own skivvies in an uproar.

In about 2 minutes, I'm going to head out the door. I'm glad we're having an early dinner tonight, as I'm hoping to get home and start winding down early enough to get a little more sleep. The waking up in the wee hours and not being able to go back to sleep thing really does have to stop, so tonight, I'm going to do what I can to head that off at the pass, as it were.

And more tomorrow.

Falling over--but one class down (for now)

I managed to get all the work marked for tomorrow's class--though I've stopped collecting new work until I get their final essays. I finished the last one at about 8:45 p.m., and I have no idea how I managed to have the brain to do it, as I had another night of insomnia last night. I think I've just worked up enough adrenaline from anxiety to be able to push through.

I have fifteen to mark for the T/Th class. That's about five hours of work. I don't think I can get it all done tomorrow, even bailing on Advisement (again), but if I also bail on the make-up time I'm supposed to put in on Thursday in Advisement, I can probably do it. I feel guilty about missing the Advisement time, as I know it's pretty busy there these days--but then again, I've always resented having to be there up to the last day of the semester, so this is my retirement raspberry to that.

Today in the 102, I had to inform a student that because he didn't fully fix the plagiarism in his essay--and moreover didn't revise at all--he will fail the class unless he withdraws. I told him I will let him withdraw, and now I'm wishing I hadn't, as he was absolutely pissy about it: "This class was a fucking waste" he said as he stormed out the door. Then I got an acre of snotty attitude from the daughter (I can't remember what I've been calling her): she kept saying, "I'm good at writing essays," and I kept saying, "Yes, you are: a B is a good grade." But not good enough for her. She kept saying she didn't understand why she was "getting points off," and I was too tired--and honestly, too pissed off--to explain that she wasn't getting points taken off; she wasn't earning them. I wish I had told her to look at the check list, which clearly states what is needed to exceed expectations--which is what's required for an A--but again, I didn't think of it at the time. I was starting to seethe, and I came very close to saying some things that would have been inappropriate (like, "I'm fucking sick of getting this kind of attitude from students who think they're better than they are; this is why I'm fucking glad to retire. It's students like you who make me hate this fucking job"--which clearly would have been counter-productive, to say the least). So I just was silent. Her mother then tried to make nice with me to talk about the novel itself, but I just wasn't in the mood. Yes: it's a downer of a book. It's still excellent.

But interestingly enough, by the time I got to P&B, I stopped feeling the outrage. And even now, writing about it, I don't feel the outrage. I just feel glad that moment is over.

Now, however, I really do need to get the hell home. I'm doing dreadful things to my body in terms of lack of sleep and bad food choices made in desperation, so I need to try to mitigate at least a smidge of that tonight. And tomorrow, unless a genuine disaster arises, I am, by God, going out to dinner with the gang. Steak and booze and to hell with the consequences, to my waistline, digestive system, or sleep.

So, until tomorrow.

"You look into things super deep"

One student in today's 101 made that comment about how I see things, in contrast to the very superficial view of things that students tend to have. Well, yes, I said: This is how an educated adult thinks. You haven't been trained in this yet, but that's what I'm doing.

Interesting moment. And today was a better class than usual. I'm not getting my hopes up, but was glad to have the experience.

I also spent a long time--over an hour--talking with a young woman who actually was only briefly my student: she was in last semester's SF class for a few weeks, then dropped. I may have mentioned her before: she ended up seeing me in Advisement--in part because she was dropping her literature course again. Turns out, bright as she is, she has serious anxiety issues about writing papers. We got to talking about her career aspirations, and her fears ... and her fears go very, very deep. She's had some traumas in her life, and today, she wanted to talk about the fact that one of those traumas caused her to get extremely low grades at the first college she went to--and those grades are now preventing her from getting into the nursing programs she wants to get into. It ended up being more like a therapy session--or at least life coaching--and I am trying to persuade her that her previous dreadful experiences with therapists is not indicative of what therapy actually can and should be like. She really needs that deeper support, someone with the knowledge and skill to help her unravel a huge tangle of negative thought patterns.

I was glad to be able to devote the hour or so to her, as I love working with students on that personal level--but when I just came back up to the office after my "babysitting" stint this evening, I uncovered another stack of stuff for the M/W class--and even bailing on Advisement tomorrow, which I absolutely must do, I do not see how I can possibly get it all even looked at before class on Wednesday. And then I have a stack, not quite as large, of stuff for the T/Th class--and again, when can I possibly get it done? I may have to bail on P&B again. I should bail on Wednesday night's steak dinner with Paul, William, Kristin, and Cathy--but I am going to have my steak, god dammit. I don't know how I'll manage but somehow I'll manage.

It would certainly help if I could sleep. I've had trouble with insomnia for the last two nights, and I'm so manic about getting all this done, I wouldn't be surprised if I struggle with it again tonight. Fuck.

But ah well. As I said, somehow, I'll manage. Somehow, sleep or no sleep, bailing on meetings and Advisement and whatever else, I'll get it done. Or I'll apologize profusely and leave it all on the office door for them to pick up. Which they won't, but that's their too bad, not mine. There is always a way.

For now, I need to pull myself together and get out of here. I've moved my usual Wednesday appointment to tonight, so no burning late this evening. I wish I'd canceled the appointment, but I didn't, so, well, off I go.