...um

Can't come up with a title. Not much to say, actually. I saw two students today, both very intelligent young men. One had his first essay from a 101 class, and the professor said he was only interested in the mechanics, so we worked on that, but the writing was so clean, there wasn't much of that to focus on and I could talk to him more about word choice, which is more interesting. The other wanted help with a personal essay for transfer application. His writing on a sentence level is somewhat more problematic in places, but I didn't focus much on that: we talked about how he can write it, what to say--and as I was asking him to tell me a little more about a few of the things he mentioned in his essay, I found that he is more than just intelligent: he has a very interesting combination of love for art and scientific curiosity, plus a very deep social conscience. He wants to be a nurse because it will allow him to draw on both his interest in the human psyche and his love of science. He actually enjoyed taking Anatomy and Physiology, and he knows about and relishes the idea of being part of the medical team involved in patient care, not just the part where nurses provide comfort, though that matters to him, too. But he found out about charting because he volunteers all over the place, and has since he was in early high school; he switched from volunteering doing some kind of clerical work to volunteering in a hospital--and in that capacity, he shadowed a nurse, actually finding out what she did in a day.

In any event, he'll be my first repeat student: we talked about what he needs to do, and I suggested that he open a new file and start all over, rather than trying to adapt what he had already written--but raiding what he can out of what he has. We only talked about 15 minutes, but he said he had plenty then to work on (and had to get to his job in any case), so he'll be back on Monday with whatever he writes up based on our conversation.

In between the two students, I did write up my response to the article I read for Mean Streets. Of course, being me, the commentary is probably way too long, but I sent it off anyway. It will be interesting to see how that process evolves after the first issue comes out--and there's a long way to go before that first issue even goes to press.

On a completely different topic: I overheard Matt mention to a new hire that the WC will be closed for the Presidents' Week break and for spring break. I thought we'd be open, as I'm sure there are students who would like to use time they usually have to be in class to get help with their writing, but nope. So, that's two weeks for which I won't get paid. But Matt did say that we get up to five "snow" days: if campus is closed because of weather, we get paid anyway. Despite the astounding cold today, I have a hunch that we're not going to get any big snowstorms this year--though now that I've said that, a blizzard is sure to arrive--but it's nice to know that if such a thing transpires on a day when I'd normally be working, I won't lose any pay. I have no idea what my first paycheck will look like--nor indeed when it will arrive, actually--but I am definitely in "money grubbing" mode. And so far, this work is what I had hoped it would be: two of the things I loved most as a teacher--helping students understand everything possible about writing and working with them individually--and none of the downsides. We'll see how much I love it when I have students back to back for four and a half hours, but right now? Alles gut.

It just doesn't seem to end...

I am on the editorial board for a new scholarly journal about American mystery and detective fiction. (Don't be too impressed: one of NCC's adjuncts is a big gun on the faculty of Pace: he put it together and invited me to be on the board just because we've had some fun chats about it.) But I'm now reading one of the submissions for the inaugural issue, and although the sentences are several orders of magnitude above what most of my students could do, and the the whole thing is significantly longer, I find myself writing very similar comments in the margins: "Link to thesis?" "Plot summary; what does this prove?" And the perennial favorite, "So?"

I suspect the thing was written by a grad student (and probably not a very advanced one), but ... yeesh. I was expecting something a lot more impressive, I have to say.

I did suggest that we use a ratings system like that used by other journals for whom I've been a jury member: accept, accept with minor changes, accept pending significant changes, reject. The main editor--my adjunct colleague--agreed with the whole idea. Since this is our first time out of the gate with submissions, there's a lot we haven't codified ("house" style--in general but especially in terms of documentation, standards of scholarship, how to give feedback), but that could be kinda fun to do, assuming the journal takes off. I think it will. There's really only one scholarly journal right now dedicated to mystery and detective fiction, and it tends to focus heavily on the Brits. Ours--entitled Mean Streets--will focus primarily on Americans. In fact, this inaugural issue is all about the late Sue Grafton, who sadly didn't finish the alphabet before her death. (And she already had the title picked out, ages ago, though of course she might have changed her mind: Z Is for Zero.) Even though the essay I'm reading is somewhere between "accept pending significant changes" and "reject," it has the benefit of making me want to read all the novels again, starting with A Is for Alibi. That's not a bad thing, all in all.

Interesting to still be doing something semi-scholarly, even though I've given up being a scholar. Though I still consider doing my "Real Fantasy versus Fake Fantasy, or Why I Hate Harry Potter" article. Maybe. Or maybe not. We'll see.

So far, I have one appointment in the WC tomorrow. That may well change, but I hope I can finish reviewing and writing up notes about the article for Mean Streets as well as doing ... oh, anything else that's moderately productive. In any event, it's kinda fun to have something to post about, even on a non-work day.

The misplaced...

First, let me say that the time does go more quickly when I'm working with students--I saw two today--but that the 40 minute appointment is really long; I'm used to doing the whole magillah in 20. I'm sure there will be times when I wish I had more time--or when I suddenly realize I've gone over--but today's appointments, not so much.

Well, I take that back: one of the students probably could have done with double the time, but mostly because she was trying to rewrite part of her essay while I sat there. (And I honestly forget that most people don't write as quickly as I do. Many write better, but words tumble out of me pretty easily. Is it a gift to be able to blather?)

But with both students, I split the time between talking with them about the actual structure of their essays--what the ideas are, how to put them in order and make connections--and talking about the GSP (grammar-spelling-punctuation). And both of them are in the wrong class. The first student I met with is in 101--and honestly, she should be in an ESL-dedicated 001 at best. The other was at least in 001, but again, she needs the ESL focus.

Interesting story with the second student: before she arrived, I got a copy of her first writing sample, which her professor had sent to me with a note saying A. that the student really should be in an ESL-dedicated class but that there isn't room and B. that the student also had a "processing" problem, as she didn't address the prompt. Also on the copy of the writing sample was a note from our ESL Coordinator, saying that--since she "can't" get into an ESL-dedicated class--she needs to meet every week with a tutor who has expertise in ESL, which I patently do not.

I also took a look at the student's schedule and at the possible courses available, and although there are seats in some of the sections, the student may not be able to make the switch; it looks like she may have conflicts that mean she can't take classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, which is all that would be available for her. But I did raise the red flag about weekly tutoring: if she goes in every week, she really does need someone who can address the ESL issues. I think one of the tutors sitting next to me has that expertise, but I'm not the one to say. Still, as I told the student, she shouldn't be seeing me in the future.

But I'm comparing the writing by these two students with the writing I saw yesterday--a student who was placed in 001--and today's 101 student doesn't write anywhere near as well. I don't know how today's student got into 101: whether she placed directly in, or passed a previous level of English (or of "Writing," what used to be the highest level of the now defunct Basic Education Program). But she is in deep trouble. I don't think there is any way to get her writing to what I would consider proficiency at the credit-bearing level in just 15 weeks. I suppose it's possible, if she gets tutoring every chance she gets (technically, she would be able to see someone three times a week--one appointment and two drop-ins--but that's highly unlikely for all sorts of reasons).

This is, of course, one of the most common professorial plaints: "How did this student ever get out of X?" (001, 101, 102, you name it). And yet I'm guilty of passing students who probably shouldn't pass, for whatever reason. So ... that's how. We pass or fail students for a number of reasons, and sometimes their basic writing ability gets overwhelmed by other stuff (including, in my case, just plain weakness about holding the damned line). A zillion years ago, when I was at Laguardia, there was a great deal of kerfuffle over the fact that the school was instituting a proficiency exam prior to graduation or transfer to another CUNY institution, at about the 3/4 mark toward the associate's degree. The faculty thinking was--understandably--shouldn't our passing grades be enough to demonstrate proficiency? But in all my years at NCC, I've been seeing the evidence that that is not, in fact, the case. I do remember running some of the prep sessions for the exam, helping students understand how to respond to the reading in particular--and that's the piece that's most important in what Laguardia does: they provide the support for students who may have gotten passing grades and yet not be proficient. For all students, in fact: without that added support (including workshops specifically tailored for the students who have already taken the test and didn't pass), the benefit of the thing would be significantly diminished. But yeah: I kinda wish NCC had something similar.

Or had something similar when I was still in the classroom. Moot point at this stage.

Shifting gears, I ran into the Young Zen Master as I was leaving the Library today. We didn't have much of a talk--not much to say, really, other than "how are you?"--but it was nice to see him. I wonder if I'll get former students as "clients" in the Writing Center.

(And I keep wanting to call it the WC, but then I think of the British term for a toilet... and I dislike the parallel.)

For now, I'm in the office, pretty much waiting for Paul to finish with P&B. Today will be the first time we've seen each other this semester, and the whole pattern just feels strange: not quite like one or the other of us was on sabbatical, but not like when we were both teaching. And yes, I'll start cleaning out files while I wait. Mostly things will just go straight in the recycling bin, but some stuff I may hang on to just long enough to see if Paul wants it for any reason--and if the answer is "no thanks," then it will go in the recycling bin.

The gradual weaning away begins. Oh, so surreal!

I'm writing ... really I am.

I had one appointment this morning--which took all of 15 minutes (helping a student who is in basic remedial English for ESL students)--and then, well, what to do.

Given my experience on Thursday, I didn't think I'd be able to really focus on any of my own work, so I brought some mending with me, and a few other little domestic projects of that sort, which I could quietly do at the desk but which allow my brain to roam freely.

And where it was roaming was in the novel I started years ago, wrote my way into a corner with, and haven't touched in ages. For some unknown reason, I thought it made sense to write historical fiction, even though I know very little about history, and to make one of the main characters Hungarian, even though I know less about Hungary (mostly what I learned from my mother reading Kate Seredy's books to my sister and me when we were kids--and then reading the books on my own repeatedly). I've been using a very dear friend--who actually started as one of my students, back when I taught at La Guardia--as my Hungarian specialist, as she is, in fact, from Hungary, but I also found myself doing a teeny bit of research, trying to find enough factual information that I can create a plausible scenario for some of the main events. When I first thought the story through--and I know the big frame of the story, start to finish--I sort of didn't realize all the bits and pieces I was going to have to fill in to create that verisimilitude I used to talk with my students about: the fully realized time and place in which the story exists. I wish I had a colleague whose brain I could pick for some of the historical knowledge I lack, but even among my colleagues in the History department, I don't think there's anyone who would know much about the kind of situation I'm writing about. Hmmm.

Well, in any event, I had a very pleasant time keeping my hands occupied with needlework and allowing my brain to meander where it would. My eyes don't quite know how to focus on the computer screen now, however, since I've been working at a closer focal distance.

But returning to the ostensible purpose of this blog, let me make brief note about the student I saw. Her essay was simplistic--as befits someone who is in a remedial class--but it had some important things in place: coherence from beginning to end, paragraphing, and apart from some ESL errors, generally very good sentence structures. I'm a little baffled that she did not pass the class before; she said this is her second time taking it. I've had students in my 101s who can't write as well as she can. Maybe she can't develop her ideas beyond three paragraphs yet, or maybe the essay readers came down hard on the ESL problems--but part of what I had to do was tell her what she's doing right, and tell her that her grammar is not, in fact, "terrible." It needs work, yes, but she's doing very well. When I told her that, she lit up. It's so easy for us to forget how hard many students are on themselves, and how much they benefit from some encouragement.

Not to the extent  that one of our adjuncts went through last semester, however: she absolutely could not conceive of allowing anyone to fail the class, so she was going to keep them all working through the rest of this semester, too. Poor Cathy had to fight that battle for a month, but the adjunct is now no longer with us, and the students have been given grades for the semester. And man, am I glad all that happened when I was no longer evening supervisor.

My time here in the Center is just about finished for today. At the moment, I have no appointments scheduled for the rest of this week, but that could change at any time. I did briefly have an appointment for yesterday (and indeed briefly had a second one today), but one got reassigned to another tutor--I don't know why--and the other was canceled. A little confusion over a disjunction between the confirmation emails I was getting and what appeared on my schedule, but I think, unfortunately, the office manager believed that I didn't want the confirmation emails any more and turned them off. Ah well. I can still check the schedule; I don't really need to know in advance.

And tomorrow, you know, is another day. I don't know if I'll be a little domestic worker again tomorrow or whether I'll try to do some actual writing, not just thinking about what I want to write (though all writers know that staring off into space is, actually, writing). For now, I'll go back to the office and do some clean-up until it's time to go to my weekly appointment, which I have moved from Wednesdays (when I do not have to be on campus) to Mondays (when I do). And onward we go.

Well, back again ... sorta

It's both strange and strangely familiar to be here this evening. My colleagues started their classes on Tuesday; I didn't have to show up until this morning at 11:30. I had one student scheduled, to my surprise; usually there is no one for the first few weeks. However, as it happened, she had to cancel her appointment so ... I noodled. I wrote some emails. I wrote letters of recommendation (for a student from my my spring 2017 SF class). I looked at dance boots (and decided I'm not going to spend the money unless I actually spend some time, oh, you know, dancing). I pulled a copy of Martin Chuzzlewit off the library shelves--there's another copy, and I don't imagine it's hugely popular, so I didn't bother to check it out; I just left it on the desk where I was working today (and where I hope I can continue to work, but we'll see how things look on the other days when I'm there). It was hard to concentrate on much of anything, I confess, for various reasons, but I'm hoping to find ways to do more productive work on the days when I have no students on my docket and hours to spend.

I got back to the office, and the last of the students to whom I granted an incomplete finally left me her work. I confess that I barely looked at her essay (see "hard to concentrate," above), but I could see enough to tell that it was pretty damned good for a 101 essay. I was generous with the grade, and generous with other marks, and ultimately she gets a B+ for the semester.

And--although I know we should never say "never"--chances are pretty good that I will never have to grade another student essay as long as I live. And that is totally peachy-dandy with me.

I did bring in a huge bag of books that I had at home--extra copies of things I'd taught from in the past, that sort of thing--and, since they are extra copies, I didn't bother to leave them for William and Paul to contemplate adopting. I simply left them, abandoned, on the radiator around the corner--another time-honored practice here for getting rid of books one no longer wants. I don't have it in me to start the process of digging through what I have in the office, not just yet. That will come in time, I'm sure.

For now, I'm content that I have finished up everything from last semester and completed my first day in the Writing Center. I have a time card to keep track of (I don't have a mailbox yet), but I know how to do all the rest of the record keeping, of course, and all the rest of the ropes are very familiar. I will water my plants here in the office (I do need to get them adopted by someone eventually), and then that will be my first "week" finished. This is in some ways extremely simple, but I suspect there are emotional undercurrents going on that will make themselves more apparent as time goes on. I am having little waves of "oh, my god, I'm approaching the end for real now" but they're countered by "it's only January. Nothing much has changed yet." Interesting to wean myself away gradually instead of simply diving off the end of the dock (to mix a metaphor). I will continue to post this semester, I'm sure--and I'm sure I'll have annoying (or wonderful) student encounters to relate as well. Stay tuned, if you're so inclined, for at least another four plus months.