The "trick" isn't completed yet: no clue yet whether I'll get out of the predicament and land safely or crash. Tomorrow will tell. I've been interrupted so many times today, I honestly still don't know how long it takes me to mark each paper--and as usual, we're talking about an average, as the bad papers obviously take longer than the good ones. I am aware that, paying attention to sentence-level stuff, it's harder to point out positives, though I suppose I should try more consciously to do that. Next time: even though I'm not finished, it's a bit late in the process to try to change my methods for this round.
Three papers did show up today, so that brought the grand total to seven submitted for the earlier class and nine for the later one. Recall that the later session has fewer students, so statistically, they're doing better, at least in terms of actually submitting work.
I realize that tomorrow I'm going to have to talk to them about being college students. Reminders: You can't pass unless you turn in your work. Requirements are just that: requirements, whether you "like" them or not. It's your job to follow the schedule of assignments. You can't do extra credit or "catch up."
If you're not on the ball right now, you're pretty much fucked.
In the first class, there's another student currently AWOL--and again, he's been one of the best students until he suddenly disappeared. One of his good buddies is in the class and is still coming, and I understand that this young man is not ill; his friend said that it isn't his place to explain what's up--true--but I am concerned. If the AWOL buddy is not in class tomorrow, I'll reach out via e-mail, see if I can reel him back in. My formerly AWOL student talked to me after class yesterday and told me that the amount of work he's missed is making him feel sick and he wants to simply take a zero for the first paper. His choice. I'm not telling him yet, but if he sticks it out the rest of the semester and turns in all his work, doing a good job with all of it, I'll talk to him at the end about an incomplete.
In any event, if both those young men stick with the class, my current guess is that those two plus the seven who submitted papers will be it for the rest of the semester. The only other student I really wanted to keep is very ill, so I think she'll end up disappearing entirely this semester. The rest? Seriously problematic.
And in the second class, one of the people who turned in a paper--a young man who has not been able to get with the program or read any instructions, apparently--probably won't make it. There's also a young woman who has been struggling to get to class on time and who has missed a fair amount of work: I'm very concerned about her, even though she's very sweet and earnest and wants to try hard. But mostly, the ones who turned in papers are the ones I expect to stick; the rest, I expect to lose, for one reason or another.
So, all in all, I'm hoping I can end up with about eight or nine students in each class. That's distinctly less than what I'd hoped for--but if I do end up with those numbers, that will represent better retention, less attrition, than usual in my classes. It's way way way too early to make any predictions--the attrition could continue beyond what I see at the moment--so I'm calling on all the classroom gods to help me keep those bodies in the room.
I think I may have lost another student from Fiction Writing--and I think she may be disappearing because she was too sensitive to the critiques, took things way too personally. I hope she returns (and I may send her an e-mail now, rather than waiting to see if her absences continue), mostly because I think it would be good for her to learn how to set up some methods for dealing with critique without being so hurt. But the rest of the students are apparently having a grand time--and to my delight, they actually (mostly) really liked Le Guin's "Malheur County." One young man mentioned that he might have gotten more out of it because of what I suggested they look for in the story, and I pounced on that: yes, how we read can make quite a difference in how we experience what we read. But I'm simply thrilled they were captured by the story.
I had to have a brief chat with the Pseudo-Brit after class, too: somehow, I didn't get his revised story and revision report (even though he says he left them for me last Thursday), so we needed to make an arrangement for me to get all that--but I also wanted to talk to him about his critiques. His remarks could sound very "teachery" and decidedly condescending (as I may have mentioned), so I had to gently let him know that others might not respond well to that tone and that perhaps he should not tell them what to do. I did mention that one of his classmates was hurt--the young woman mentioned above, though she was hurt more by other comments--but the main thing was I want him to rein it in. He may indeed have more experience and knowledge than the others in the class, but (I know all too well), arrogance doesn't tend to win people over much.
The final note of the day, I met with the student who called yesterday to complain about her professor. Mostly, as I suspected, she needed to vent and to feel she was standing up for her rights--but in fact, her grade is not in jeopardy because of the faculty member's (possibly) faulty record keeping, so pretty much I told her to let it go unless it does become a problem. She said, "He can't mark me late if I'm not late." Actually, yeah, he can. He can call you Maria Natasha de Rocheford Smith, if he wants to, and there isn't anything anyone can do about it--and certainly nothing anyone will do about it, unless it becomes an issue in terms of your final grade. Other than that, much greater injustices will occur in your life, so this one? Let it go. Really. What a huge flap about nothing--but I think she simply has a sense that she has to be battle-ready at all times or she's likely to experience real injustice. And she may not be wrong about that. But what an exhausting way to go through life
And once again I'm in the position of having to get up very early tomorrow morning and hope like hell I can get through the remaining papers I have to grade (eight of them). I truly cannot face another one tonight. But I will leave you with this thought-provoking assertion from a student paper: "Students often cannot turn to their parents or pees for college insight." Oh, how true.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
suspenseful drum-roll
I feel like I'm trying to do a Houdini-esque escape from some impossible tangle of chains and ropes, dangling from a great height--but no, I'm just trying to stay on top of the week. Consequently, I have very mixed feelings about the fact that a fair number of students from the earlier 101 class were conspicuously absent today, and not all those who were there had their papers. The second section was in marginally better shape, but, well, yikes and hooray.
Of course, part of the suspense is that I don't know how many of those missing papers might show up tomorrow--or not (suspense either way). I have completely forgotten whether this version is any faster to mark than the first versions: I suspect maybe so (or maybe I just frantically hope so), as my focus is on sentence-level stuff, which requires less commentary and fewer prompting questions, but the students certainly need to engage in further revision, so I sort of don't know that to plan in terms of time expenditure.
I'm looking at my calendar and wondering how it gets so filled up so fast: between meetings, reminders, and life-maintenance, virtually every single day has something on it for the next three months--and there are plenty of things that probably should be there but aren't. When will I review the sabbatical applications between now and Tuesday's P&B meeting? When will I work on my promotion application? When will I do anything having anything to do with Assessment (which meets next week)? How much shuffling of stuff can I possibly do? And how many more things will I have to shoe-horn into the schedule?
As a very small example of the latter, I got a call today from an evening student who is furious with her professor and needs to come in and complain. (Maybe I should simply point her to that little button in the corner of my blog-post screen: one of these days I do have to click on that to see what it does.) I don't know yet who the professor is, but the student sure needed to vent: I was simply trying to set up the appointment and she kept launching into her tirade about how she's always there, always on time, and he's telling her that her attendance is in trouble, but she's a grown up, she's 34, she's not a child.... Oh, lord help. I'll meet with her tomorrow (even though it's not officially one of my evening office hour nights), hear her out, talk to the professor, see what, if anything, I can do--and if I can't figure out what to do, take it to Bruce. I hope the meeting won't take long, but there it is.
On the other hand, the seminar hours committee meeting that's scheduled for tomorrow may be postponed, as the chair of the committee is ill. That buys me a little paper-marking time this week, but if the meeting is rescheduled, I'll pay for it next week, as we'll then meet on a day when I already have to be in early for Assessment.
Oh, yeah, and because of the time I need to grade student papers, I actually had to move an observation from 10 on a Thursday (plenty early enough for me) to 9:30 on a Monday (ick and likewise yuck)--so on that Monday, I'll have to stay in Advisement later than usual to make up the time, which is what I do on the days when Assessment meets. Everything gets pinched. I don't like things pinched. But I'd rather pinch my schedule on a Monday than run out of time to mark papers that I have to return on a Thursday. And that, my friends, is the kind of calculus that takes up far too much of my mental energy.
I did get all the stories read and commented on, and all the homework marked for the short story class (except for two: one student misunderstood what the revision report needs to be and has to get that to me before I can grade her revision--and the Pseudo-Brit has not turned in his revised story, never mind the report, in addition to being absent yesterday). So I'm all set for tomorrow.
But back to today's classes. The class Bruce observed was tiny--only nine students there--and the video I wanted to show screwed up (because of rotten computer/internet connections), so I had to fling that idea out the window and improvise something else. I was amused to note that I let the class out about 12 minutes early--and the video was about 12 minutes long. Pretty proud of myself that it would have timed so well, if only that part had worked. But we had fun, and--wonder of wonders--Bruce was actually alert and interested throughout the class. He's always written up my classes in glowing terms, but in the past, watching him watch the class, one would think he was bored out of his mind (and indeed he may have been). He even told me, at the end, that he found the information interesting, got caught up in what we were talking about. That's extremely gratifying to hear, I confess, especially considering the source. And the students did me proud: they were engaged, interested, making good points, clearly were prepared--and we had fun. It's great when it all works--and when it works in front of an "audience," even better.
The second class also went well, though at first, it looked like there might only be five people there (just about everyone turned up before the end). I've lost one student because he didn't submit his immunization records--but he was going down the drain anyway, so I'll be just as pleased if he doesn't come back. One student was poised to do well and has suddenly vanished: I sent her an e-mail urging her to contact me, but I think she got overwhelmed by life stuff. It's a shame, but it does happen. The rest of them are pulling together very nicely into a cohesive group, and--as usual with them--the conversation was wide-ranging and lively.
I did show them the video (and the class ended just about on the dot of on time), but I'm not sure it was all that much worth showing. I spent a fair amount of time this morning looking for good videos to show and didn't find much that hit where I wanted it to; maybe I'll look again to see if I can find something for next week. But not for Thursday, I don't think--unless there is a miracle, and all the chains and ropes disentangle and leave me standing safely on the pavement with a stack of marked papers ready to return well in advance of Thursday's classes.
It's chilly as hell in this office, and I'm starting to shiver--which indicates not only that autumn is creeping up on us but that I'm very tired and need to get the hell home. So, off I go.
Of course, part of the suspense is that I don't know how many of those missing papers might show up tomorrow--or not (suspense either way). I have completely forgotten whether this version is any faster to mark than the first versions: I suspect maybe so (or maybe I just frantically hope so), as my focus is on sentence-level stuff, which requires less commentary and fewer prompting questions, but the students certainly need to engage in further revision, so I sort of don't know that to plan in terms of time expenditure.
I'm looking at my calendar and wondering how it gets so filled up so fast: between meetings, reminders, and life-maintenance, virtually every single day has something on it for the next three months--and there are plenty of things that probably should be there but aren't. When will I review the sabbatical applications between now and Tuesday's P&B meeting? When will I work on my promotion application? When will I do anything having anything to do with Assessment (which meets next week)? How much shuffling of stuff can I possibly do? And how many more things will I have to shoe-horn into the schedule?
As a very small example of the latter, I got a call today from an evening student who is furious with her professor and needs to come in and complain. (Maybe I should simply point her to that little button in the corner of my blog-post screen: one of these days I do have to click on that to see what it does.) I don't know yet who the professor is, but the student sure needed to vent: I was simply trying to set up the appointment and she kept launching into her tirade about how she's always there, always on time, and he's telling her that her attendance is in trouble, but she's a grown up, she's 34, she's not a child.... Oh, lord help. I'll meet with her tomorrow (even though it's not officially one of my evening office hour nights), hear her out, talk to the professor, see what, if anything, I can do--and if I can't figure out what to do, take it to Bruce. I hope the meeting won't take long, but there it is.
On the other hand, the seminar hours committee meeting that's scheduled for tomorrow may be postponed, as the chair of the committee is ill. That buys me a little paper-marking time this week, but if the meeting is rescheduled, I'll pay for it next week, as we'll then meet on a day when I already have to be in early for Assessment.
Oh, yeah, and because of the time I need to grade student papers, I actually had to move an observation from 10 on a Thursday (plenty early enough for me) to 9:30 on a Monday (ick and likewise yuck)--so on that Monday, I'll have to stay in Advisement later than usual to make up the time, which is what I do on the days when Assessment meets. Everything gets pinched. I don't like things pinched. But I'd rather pinch my schedule on a Monday than run out of time to mark papers that I have to return on a Thursday. And that, my friends, is the kind of calculus that takes up far too much of my mental energy.
I did get all the stories read and commented on, and all the homework marked for the short story class (except for two: one student misunderstood what the revision report needs to be and has to get that to me before I can grade her revision--and the Pseudo-Brit has not turned in his revised story, never mind the report, in addition to being absent yesterday). So I'm all set for tomorrow.
But back to today's classes. The class Bruce observed was tiny--only nine students there--and the video I wanted to show screwed up (because of rotten computer/internet connections), so I had to fling that idea out the window and improvise something else. I was amused to note that I let the class out about 12 minutes early--and the video was about 12 minutes long. Pretty proud of myself that it would have timed so well, if only that part had worked. But we had fun, and--wonder of wonders--Bruce was actually alert and interested throughout the class. He's always written up my classes in glowing terms, but in the past, watching him watch the class, one would think he was bored out of his mind (and indeed he may have been). He even told me, at the end, that he found the information interesting, got caught up in what we were talking about. That's extremely gratifying to hear, I confess, especially considering the source. And the students did me proud: they were engaged, interested, making good points, clearly were prepared--and we had fun. It's great when it all works--and when it works in front of an "audience," even better.
The second class also went well, though at first, it looked like there might only be five people there (just about everyone turned up before the end). I've lost one student because he didn't submit his immunization records--but he was going down the drain anyway, so I'll be just as pleased if he doesn't come back. One student was poised to do well and has suddenly vanished: I sent her an e-mail urging her to contact me, but I think she got overwhelmed by life stuff. It's a shame, but it does happen. The rest of them are pulling together very nicely into a cohesive group, and--as usual with them--the conversation was wide-ranging and lively.
I did show them the video (and the class ended just about on the dot of on time), but I'm not sure it was all that much worth showing. I spent a fair amount of time this morning looking for good videos to show and didn't find much that hit where I wanted it to; maybe I'll look again to see if I can find something for next week. But not for Thursday, I don't think--unless there is a miracle, and all the chains and ropes disentangle and leave me standing safely on the pavement with a stack of marked papers ready to return well in advance of Thursday's classes.
It's chilly as hell in this office, and I'm starting to shiver--which indicates not only that autumn is creeping up on us but that I'm very tired and need to get the hell home. So, off I go.
Monday, October 6, 2014
The usual calculated risk
Officially, I should be here until 7 tonight, for my evening office hour, but I am already ready to sign off on today and leave everything else in a steaming pile on my desk until tomorrow. I had to stay to talk to my ESL "conversation partner," but that feels like more than enough for one day. I don't have a meeting prior to P&B, thank God, but still, I'm taking a risk that I'll be able to evaluate the revised stories for the Fiction Writing class (plus their critiques of their classmates' stories): if I don't get it done tomorrow, it won't get done until next week--and I really would like to return everything to them so I have the decks clear for the next round of 101 papers, which will arrive tomorrow.
I'm sort of having fun, knowing that I've got the computers and internet connections available in both 101 classrooms: I'm going to see if I can find any fun, brief videos to show tomorrow on any of the ideas that have come up in the readings so far (environmentally friendly zoning, permaculture, "Transition Towns" (a term I'd never heard before: love it when I learn something new, too), community-supported agriculture...). I'm going to look into information about local agriculture (there are more working farms around here than students likely realize). Anything I can find for fun visuals and ideas to augment the discussion tomorrow, I'll trot out as needed to keep things lively. I want to keep the students--and Bruce--engaged, after all.
I truly am awash in a sea of paper at the moment--and will be for the foreseeable future. Student assignments, promotion folder, committee crapola: it's all mounting up. And writing that, I just remembered: I have to start reviewing sabbatical applications as of tomorrow. Fortunately, I already reviewed two of my three mentees, but there will be at least three other applications, plus the third I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on, all of which need to be reviewed by next week's P&B. Part of my brain immediately says, "Well, then, you should stay here and do more work before you go." Another internal voice answers, "Nooooooo! I want to go Hooooooome!!" God, I feel like a cranky toddler half the time.
I actually had this post half composed when the phone rang: I had sent an e-mail to my ESL conversation partner; we're supposed to meet Mondays at 5:30, but since I hadn't heard from him, I thought he wasn't going to come today. He was calling from his ESL teacher's office (she also administrates the conversation partner program), and once we sorted things out, I realized he did want to meet today. However, he thought I was going to head over to the building where the language immersion program is housed, and meet him there. No. I told him to come here. I was a little concerned about whether he actually understood what I was saying--not just because of the usual difficulties of making certain of communication when one person is talking in a language in which he or she is not entirely comfortable but also because he may be on the autism spectrum. His teacher did give me a heads up about that, which I appreciate--and I agree with her assessment. I must say, whatever it is, it adds a very interesting additional layer of challenge to the conversations. He did say something in our conversation that indicates he's also had to work to overcome a stammer: that's courage and determination, to work on learning a second language while overcoming a stammer and working on an innate difficult with social interactions. I'm not quite sure how this is all going to work out, but it will be interesting to see.
Class today went well--though, as usual, we finished up about 20 minutes early, despite doing some additional work on freewrites. I rather liked the exercise: since we all have an innate tendency to head for a particular voice--especially to head either for high drama or for humor--after we all talked about the initial freewrite, we all used the same opening sentences and took it the opposite direction: those who usually go for drama had to go for humor, and vice versa. In addition to wanting to get their stories evaluated to return to them on Wednesday, I also hope to look at their exercises in voice: maybe I can use something there as the basis for a little workshop sort of action on Wednesday. I did ask our departmental tech person if we can get the room set up so I can type stuff up and project it so we can all see things in real time (easier than trying to make photocopies all the damned time). I'm improvising here, but so far it all feels like it's working pretty well.
Ah, hell. Thinking about everything I want to do, I'm now thinking that perhaps I should stay for a while longer, try to get a little more work done. I'll at least look at the next story in the stack, and if I can actually see it and make sense of it in any substantive way, I'll see how far I can get. But if I look at it and it might as well be written in Sanskrit, I'll go ahead and fold my tents for the night, taking the Scarlett O'Hara approach, as is my wont.
I'm sort of having fun, knowing that I've got the computers and internet connections available in both 101 classrooms: I'm going to see if I can find any fun, brief videos to show tomorrow on any of the ideas that have come up in the readings so far (environmentally friendly zoning, permaculture, "Transition Towns" (a term I'd never heard before: love it when I learn something new, too), community-supported agriculture...). I'm going to look into information about local agriculture (there are more working farms around here than students likely realize). Anything I can find for fun visuals and ideas to augment the discussion tomorrow, I'll trot out as needed to keep things lively. I want to keep the students--and Bruce--engaged, after all.
I truly am awash in a sea of paper at the moment--and will be for the foreseeable future. Student assignments, promotion folder, committee crapola: it's all mounting up. And writing that, I just remembered: I have to start reviewing sabbatical applications as of tomorrow. Fortunately, I already reviewed two of my three mentees, but there will be at least three other applications, plus the third I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on, all of which need to be reviewed by next week's P&B. Part of my brain immediately says, "Well, then, you should stay here and do more work before you go." Another internal voice answers, "Nooooooo! I want to go Hooooooome!!" God, I feel like a cranky toddler half the time.
I actually had this post half composed when the phone rang: I had sent an e-mail to my ESL conversation partner; we're supposed to meet Mondays at 5:30, but since I hadn't heard from him, I thought he wasn't going to come today. He was calling from his ESL teacher's office (she also administrates the conversation partner program), and once we sorted things out, I realized he did want to meet today. However, he thought I was going to head over to the building where the language immersion program is housed, and meet him there. No. I told him to come here. I was a little concerned about whether he actually understood what I was saying--not just because of the usual difficulties of making certain of communication when one person is talking in a language in which he or she is not entirely comfortable but also because he may be on the autism spectrum. His teacher did give me a heads up about that, which I appreciate--and I agree with her assessment. I must say, whatever it is, it adds a very interesting additional layer of challenge to the conversations. He did say something in our conversation that indicates he's also had to work to overcome a stammer: that's courage and determination, to work on learning a second language while overcoming a stammer and working on an innate difficult with social interactions. I'm not quite sure how this is all going to work out, but it will be interesting to see.
Class today went well--though, as usual, we finished up about 20 minutes early, despite doing some additional work on freewrites. I rather liked the exercise: since we all have an innate tendency to head for a particular voice--especially to head either for high drama or for humor--after we all talked about the initial freewrite, we all used the same opening sentences and took it the opposite direction: those who usually go for drama had to go for humor, and vice versa. In addition to wanting to get their stories evaluated to return to them on Wednesday, I also hope to look at their exercises in voice: maybe I can use something there as the basis for a little workshop sort of action on Wednesday. I did ask our departmental tech person if we can get the room set up so I can type stuff up and project it so we can all see things in real time (easier than trying to make photocopies all the damned time). I'm improvising here, but so far it all feels like it's working pretty well.
Ah, hell. Thinking about everything I want to do, I'm now thinking that perhaps I should stay for a while longer, try to get a little more work done. I'll at least look at the next story in the stack, and if I can actually see it and make sense of it in any substantive way, I'll see how far I can get. But if I look at it and it might as well be written in Sanskrit, I'll go ahead and fold my tents for the night, taking the Scarlett O'Hara approach, as is my wont.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Battered but better
It may have been evident from yesterday's post, but I was in a very dark place--so dark, in fact, that I couldn't even bear to talk to Paul in our first scheduled "let's talk pedagogy" conversation: I had to ask for a rain-check until Friday. I have some theories about why I was so deeply distressed by the fact that students weren't turning in work, but the main thing is that the black shadow has passed. The missing papers didn't suddenly materialize on time, but when I spoke to the students who were in class today without papers, I explained to them the situation--zero for revision on the first paper but they still can get the final product grade--and they were surprisingly chipper about the whole thing. I did make a point of being as positive as I could be about the bad news and encouraged them to do everything possible to make sure that final version is as brilliant as it can be, but still, they seemed grateful, not grumpy, which was a refreshing surprise.
That was the situation in the first session; in the session, everyone who was there had at least turned in something, even if it was more of a rough draft than a finished version. And in both classes, the students were (mostly) very willing to look carefully at my comments and seemed to feel they know how to address those comments and come up with a better paper as a consequence.
So, that's a mood lifter.
I am, however, beat to shit: I got up at six, but it should have been 5:30, as I didn't have all the papers marked before the start of the second session. The last few students got pretty sixteenth-assed comments, but they got something--and they don't know what they didn't get, so they were happy enough. All the students were also willing to have the class be a little bumpy to start, as I tried to get them rolling while still finishing up grading the last few papers. Everyone in both sessions could tell that I'm hammered with exhaustion and consequently even more addled and absent-minded than usual, but enh. It worked well enough.
I'm also happy that I won't have to read the riot act on Tuesday when Bruce is there to observe. I had thought I might be in that position and was trying to figure out how to make that work both in terms of the observation and in terms of getting through to the students, but since he'll observe only the first session, and since I already talked to the students I was concerned about, we can just launch into the discussion planned for the day and off we go.
I grant you, there are still a few students who have not turned in anything--and don't seem likely to. But even though I'm deeply concerned about attrition (witness my dream of a while back), those particular students I'm just as happy to let go. They're not adding anything of value to the class anyway, so, well, don't let the door hit you on the way out.
I always love the days when I get to just circulate around the room, giving advice and encouragement to the students as they work on their papers--they're so earnest about figuring out what to do, and I can feel actual learning going on--but today was particularly nice, even though I was in near zombie mode. One student said he was completely discouraged and wanted to just start all over, and I said no, in fact, that's a mistake, because then you'll just make the same kinds of errors all over again. Instead, keep what's good--and there's plenty that's good in every paper in the room. When I sat down with that particular student, the first thing I said to him is, "So, tell me what's good in your paper." And he did. Ah! There you go: you're right. So build on that. And at the end of that class, one student asked, "Are we going to do this process with every paper?" "Yep." "So we won't ever just write a paper, turn it in, and that's it?" "Nope." "Awesome!" I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic, but no: he really meant it--and several other students in the class chimed in to agree. "We never got to do this in high school, but this is how we'll learn." Yeah, well, that's the general idea. Thanks for noticing. (And no, I'm not being sarcastic either: I'm delighted that they're aware that the process is designed to actually help them learn.)
Now, however, all I want to do is indulge my body with a drink and dinner, and then collapse utterly. To hell with tomorrow: next week is another week--one of only eleven more to go.
That was the situation in the first session; in the session, everyone who was there had at least turned in something, even if it was more of a rough draft than a finished version. And in both classes, the students were (mostly) very willing to look carefully at my comments and seemed to feel they know how to address those comments and come up with a better paper as a consequence.
So, that's a mood lifter.
I am, however, beat to shit: I got up at six, but it should have been 5:30, as I didn't have all the papers marked before the start of the second session. The last few students got pretty sixteenth-assed comments, but they got something--and they don't know what they didn't get, so they were happy enough. All the students were also willing to have the class be a little bumpy to start, as I tried to get them rolling while still finishing up grading the last few papers. Everyone in both sessions could tell that I'm hammered with exhaustion and consequently even more addled and absent-minded than usual, but enh. It worked well enough.
I'm also happy that I won't have to read the riot act on Tuesday when Bruce is there to observe. I had thought I might be in that position and was trying to figure out how to make that work both in terms of the observation and in terms of getting through to the students, but since he'll observe only the first session, and since I already talked to the students I was concerned about, we can just launch into the discussion planned for the day and off we go.
I grant you, there are still a few students who have not turned in anything--and don't seem likely to. But even though I'm deeply concerned about attrition (witness my dream of a while back), those particular students I'm just as happy to let go. They're not adding anything of value to the class anyway, so, well, don't let the door hit you on the way out.
I always love the days when I get to just circulate around the room, giving advice and encouragement to the students as they work on their papers--they're so earnest about figuring out what to do, and I can feel actual learning going on--but today was particularly nice, even though I was in near zombie mode. One student said he was completely discouraged and wanted to just start all over, and I said no, in fact, that's a mistake, because then you'll just make the same kinds of errors all over again. Instead, keep what's good--and there's plenty that's good in every paper in the room. When I sat down with that particular student, the first thing I said to him is, "So, tell me what's good in your paper." And he did. Ah! There you go: you're right. So build on that. And at the end of that class, one student asked, "Are we going to do this process with every paper?" "Yep." "So we won't ever just write a paper, turn it in, and that's it?" "Nope." "Awesome!" I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic, but no: he really meant it--and several other students in the class chimed in to agree. "We never got to do this in high school, but this is how we'll learn." Yeah, well, that's the general idea. Thanks for noticing. (And no, I'm not being sarcastic either: I'm delighted that they're aware that the process is designed to actually help them learn.)
Now, however, all I want to do is indulge my body with a drink and dinner, and then collapse utterly. To hell with tomorrow: next week is another week--one of only eleven more to go.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
The bloodbath begins
Ah, Christ, I hate this.
Missing papers. Missing submissions to Turnitin. Late papers and submissions. Potentially good students AWOL. And I'm hitting the wall.
Mistake after mistake today. I should not have gone to Advisement. This is what I get for being the good girl. I managed to get about 2 1/2 papers graded in the three hours I was there: too many distractions (including a lot of loud talk among the professional advisers) and lots of little stuff getting in my way. Among other things, I realized that the rubric form I was all set to use has some things on it that either apply only to 102 or don't use the new terminologies I've come up with, so although I could at least check off the rubric boxes, I couldn't write out comments--as I'd just have had to rewrite them on the corrected form.
I didn't bring lunch but grabbed something quick from the little campus food shop (and I use the word "food" loosely). So I got deeply hungry a little bit ago, and ate some crap out of the vending machine, trying to keep myself going--but I'm crashing big time.
I realize that, even though it's early, I truly cannot, simply cannot, focus well enough to mark even one more paper today. I may end up getting up at 5:30--certainly will get up by 6 at the latest--to try to crank out the remainder, but it's a hell of a gamble: I still have 13 to go, which means trying to get through three in an hour (plus a bit) when usually two is the best I can do. And I'm allowing one student to at least try to turn in a paper by 11 tomorrow morning. I think I'll be OK on that one: somehow, much as I hope she does make it, I don't think she will.
And I have to decide whether to tell a few students that truly, mathematically, they stand virtually no chance of passing at this point. And then the attrition starts.
Christ, I hate this.
OK, good notes, good notes:
The meeting today was very helpful. I think I have a much better sense of something somewhat tangible that I can bring to next week's meeting of the "seminar hours" committee. Another member of the seminar hours group and I met with colleagues from the Center for Educational and Retention Counseling--and they were very grateful that we reached out to them, want to work with them. They had some good ideas and helped us kick things around enough that things started to take shape in my own mind at least. That was great.
And I had told Cathy that I'd help her by reading 20 "move up" essays: students who are in remedial English but who seem not to need a full semester of remediation have the option of doing essentially a re-placement exam half-way through the semester and potentially getting moved into a section of 101 that meets half the term (but for twice as long each meeting). It's a good thing all around, but I sure as shit didn't need to put my own paper grading aside to read those essays. Turned out I didn't need to, so that's a very good thing.
And class was good. I've decided that we're going to meet in the little conference room here in Bradley from now on: more intimate, nicer--and I can make copies of exercises or free-writes for us to do sort of mini-workshops on. I decided--as the words were coming out of my mouth, basically--to keep the readings, exactly as originally intended: read, do notes, we discuss. But if/when the discussion falls flat, I can now ask students to volunteer something very rough for us to talk about as a process looking at the very early stages of idea formation--and I can trot downstairs to make copies for everyone, so we all have something to look at as we "workshop." I hope it will work: it certainly will be a grand experiment. We actually had a pretty good little discussion about revision as a process, and--setting them up for their next stories already--we started talking about point of view and voice. So that was great.
And now, I am going to go feed myself and try to get into bed as early as humanly possible--and pray for yet another miracle tomorrow, so I can get all the rest of those papers marked before each class. Light a candle for me or something, please.
Missing papers. Missing submissions to Turnitin. Late papers and submissions. Potentially good students AWOL. And I'm hitting the wall.
Mistake after mistake today. I should not have gone to Advisement. This is what I get for being the good girl. I managed to get about 2 1/2 papers graded in the three hours I was there: too many distractions (including a lot of loud talk among the professional advisers) and lots of little stuff getting in my way. Among other things, I realized that the rubric form I was all set to use has some things on it that either apply only to 102 or don't use the new terminologies I've come up with, so although I could at least check off the rubric boxes, I couldn't write out comments--as I'd just have had to rewrite them on the corrected form.
I didn't bring lunch but grabbed something quick from the little campus food shop (and I use the word "food" loosely). So I got deeply hungry a little bit ago, and ate some crap out of the vending machine, trying to keep myself going--but I'm crashing big time.
I realize that, even though it's early, I truly cannot, simply cannot, focus well enough to mark even one more paper today. I may end up getting up at 5:30--certainly will get up by 6 at the latest--to try to crank out the remainder, but it's a hell of a gamble: I still have 13 to go, which means trying to get through three in an hour (plus a bit) when usually two is the best I can do. And I'm allowing one student to at least try to turn in a paper by 11 tomorrow morning. I think I'll be OK on that one: somehow, much as I hope she does make it, I don't think she will.
And I have to decide whether to tell a few students that truly, mathematically, they stand virtually no chance of passing at this point. And then the attrition starts.
Christ, I hate this.
OK, good notes, good notes:
The meeting today was very helpful. I think I have a much better sense of something somewhat tangible that I can bring to next week's meeting of the "seminar hours" committee. Another member of the seminar hours group and I met with colleagues from the Center for Educational and Retention Counseling--and they were very grateful that we reached out to them, want to work with them. They had some good ideas and helped us kick things around enough that things started to take shape in my own mind at least. That was great.
And I had told Cathy that I'd help her by reading 20 "move up" essays: students who are in remedial English but who seem not to need a full semester of remediation have the option of doing essentially a re-placement exam half-way through the semester and potentially getting moved into a section of 101 that meets half the term (but for twice as long each meeting). It's a good thing all around, but I sure as shit didn't need to put my own paper grading aside to read those essays. Turned out I didn't need to, so that's a very good thing.
And class was good. I've decided that we're going to meet in the little conference room here in Bradley from now on: more intimate, nicer--and I can make copies of exercises or free-writes for us to do sort of mini-workshops on. I decided--as the words were coming out of my mouth, basically--to keep the readings, exactly as originally intended: read, do notes, we discuss. But if/when the discussion falls flat, I can now ask students to volunteer something very rough for us to talk about as a process looking at the very early stages of idea formation--and I can trot downstairs to make copies for everyone, so we all have something to look at as we "workshop." I hope it will work: it certainly will be a grand experiment. We actually had a pretty good little discussion about revision as a process, and--setting them up for their next stories already--we started talking about point of view and voice. So that was great.
And now, I am going to go feed myself and try to get into bed as early as humanly possible--and pray for yet another miracle tomorrow, so I can get all the rest of those papers marked before each class. Light a candle for me or something, please.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Late post from home
Right after class, I dashed back to the office, dropped my stuff, and joined up with Kristin for a dinner out: she had to do a presentation at evening club hour (a relatively new event for students who can't do things during regular day events), so since she was going to be out here late, she asked if I'd be available. You damn betcha. Lovely dinner in the best of company--and we only spent about the first half of it bitching about work.
I put in some time on the promotion folder today: what a snorting pain in the patoot, but I'm in the phase where I just need to match up the pieces and cross check them. I spent quite a bit of time sending off e-mails asking for missing documents (always a little embarrassing, but I'm certainly not the only one in that particular situation), but it it gradually, slowly starting to take shape.
Classes were a mixed bag. The earlier class was back to being the more lively, mostly because the potential favorite student who has been AWOL was back: I got an e-mail from him this morning explaining why he hadn't responded or shown up yesterday, and he was back in good form in class today. His life situation is still a mess, so I hope he can stay on track now. He's got so much potential, I'd hate for him to get derailed. Of course, he didn't have a paper ready, but at least he has good reason; a few other students didn't have papers ready and didn't have any particular reason why not. And a few were absent. One is simply gone: this was his fourth absence in a row. I'll give him until the 6th before I draw a line through his card and stick in the file labeled "gone," but I'm damned sure I won't see him again. One is the student who sent me the "it's not fair" e-mail over the weekend: no surprise there. And one is a student who, again, seems to have tons of potential but hasn't been showing up and turning in work regularly: I already issued her with an "early warning," so I'm concerned that she vanished yet again today.
Still, with Mr. Formerly AWOL back in class, the discussion was pretty great (though two students were falling asleep in the back--and I had no qualms saying, "and so-and-so is asleep back there"; the student would wake up long enough to make eye contact and attempt to be alert and then a few minutes later, back to sleep. Ah well.). I realized that I'm having them read an article that we probably won't have a chance to discuss on Thursday, as the day will be devoted to working on their papers--but it just means they'll have all the more to talk about when Bruce observes the class next Tuesday.
The second class was a lot more quiet. Everyone was alert (and the world needs more lerts), but they didn't have quite as much to say. It wasn't a bad class, just not as much going on as the session before. I showed both classes a newer "Story of Stuff" video--this one about solutions. I hadn't seen it before myself, but they responded to it with great interest. So, off we go. They're prepared to switch between working on their papers about education and gathering information for their next papers about environmental issues: I always am impressed by how sanguine they are when I tell them they're going to have to flip back and forth. Doesn't phase them in the least--I suppose because they all are used to that kind of rapid switch. (I have more difficulty with it than they do.)
Now, in addition to the paper grading for tomorrow, I also have to remember to get some materials ready for the Fiction Writing class. I had considered canceling it--am still considering calling in "sick" to Advisement--but since I have a meeting I can't miss in the afternoon, and thus have to be on campus anyway, I'll at least teach my class. I have to decide whether to risk it with Advisement, but at the moment, I feel as if seeing even one or two students would throw my concentration and slow me down significantly, so I'm inclined to bail. But I'll decide in the morning. The alarm is already set for 6 as is.
And with that thought, I need to stop thinking about work (OK, try to think less about work) and begin the glide toward bed. I know I won't get enough sleep (is there such a thing?) but every little increment toward enough is worth fighting for. And tomorrow is ... well, we all know what tomorrow is.
I put in some time on the promotion folder today: what a snorting pain in the patoot, but I'm in the phase where I just need to match up the pieces and cross check them. I spent quite a bit of time sending off e-mails asking for missing documents (always a little embarrassing, but I'm certainly not the only one in that particular situation), but it it gradually, slowly starting to take shape.
Classes were a mixed bag. The earlier class was back to being the more lively, mostly because the potential favorite student who has been AWOL was back: I got an e-mail from him this morning explaining why he hadn't responded or shown up yesterday, and he was back in good form in class today. His life situation is still a mess, so I hope he can stay on track now. He's got so much potential, I'd hate for him to get derailed. Of course, he didn't have a paper ready, but at least he has good reason; a few other students didn't have papers ready and didn't have any particular reason why not. And a few were absent. One is simply gone: this was his fourth absence in a row. I'll give him until the 6th before I draw a line through his card and stick in the file labeled "gone," but I'm damned sure I won't see him again. One is the student who sent me the "it's not fair" e-mail over the weekend: no surprise there. And one is a student who, again, seems to have tons of potential but hasn't been showing up and turning in work regularly: I already issued her with an "early warning," so I'm concerned that she vanished yet again today.
Still, with Mr. Formerly AWOL back in class, the discussion was pretty great (though two students were falling asleep in the back--and I had no qualms saying, "and so-and-so is asleep back there"; the student would wake up long enough to make eye contact and attempt to be alert and then a few minutes later, back to sleep. Ah well.). I realized that I'm having them read an article that we probably won't have a chance to discuss on Thursday, as the day will be devoted to working on their papers--but it just means they'll have all the more to talk about when Bruce observes the class next Tuesday.
The second class was a lot more quiet. Everyone was alert (and the world needs more lerts), but they didn't have quite as much to say. It wasn't a bad class, just not as much going on as the session before. I showed both classes a newer "Story of Stuff" video--this one about solutions. I hadn't seen it before myself, but they responded to it with great interest. So, off we go. They're prepared to switch between working on their papers about education and gathering information for their next papers about environmental issues: I always am impressed by how sanguine they are when I tell them they're going to have to flip back and forth. Doesn't phase them in the least--I suppose because they all are used to that kind of rapid switch. (I have more difficulty with it than they do.)
Now, in addition to the paper grading for tomorrow, I also have to remember to get some materials ready for the Fiction Writing class. I had considered canceling it--am still considering calling in "sick" to Advisement--but since I have a meeting I can't miss in the afternoon, and thus have to be on campus anyway, I'll at least teach my class. I have to decide whether to risk it with Advisement, but at the moment, I feel as if seeing even one or two students would throw my concentration and slow me down significantly, so I'm inclined to bail. But I'll decide in the morning. The alarm is already set for 6 as is.
And with that thought, I need to stop thinking about work (OK, try to think less about work) and begin the glide toward bed. I know I won't get enough sleep (is there such a thing?) but every little increment toward enough is worth fighting for. And tomorrow is ... well, we all know what tomorrow is.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Stress dreams
Over the weekend, I dreamed that I had lost my temper with my students and most of them had immediately gotten up and left the room, abandoning the class in assorted fits of pique. It's one of my classic stress dreams (that and not being able to find a class that I'm supposed to be teaching, or not being able to get the students' attention, or realizing that it's three weeks into the semester and I've forgotten all about teaching X...), but the sad truth is, this is about when it will in some small measure start to come true.
Case in point: I got a petulant e-mail from a student asking for an extension on the deadline for his paper. His reason is that it isn't fair for him to have to do the paper, because I'm still holding on to one of his homework submissions: two pieces of one of his assignments had gotten separated, part of it attached to another student's homework, and so I'd asked him to resubmit the thing all together so I could correct his mark. I had to breathe carefully through my visceral reaction to the rather snotty "it isn't fair" bit, and I wrote him what I thought was a very compassionate e-mail in which I said no, I'm sorry, I can't extend the deadline, not because I'm being mean but because I have to get the paper back to you so you can do phase two. However, I told him, I can leave the assignment for you to pick up today, and blah, blah, every way I could think of to tell him A) that he could take a little responsibility (although I have his notes--which, I must say, are pretty valueless anyway--he can still access the article, as he found it doing an online database search) but B) he shouldn't worry because there are plenty of ways he can do the assignment without the missing notes.
The notes are still sitting on my office door. I haven't heard anything further from him. Somehow I think he'll show up with a withdrawal form, sooner or later.
I know this is part of their learning curve, and that it is important for them to have to encounter limits, be told "no"--but it drives me nuts that they simply get huffy and leave. I overheard a student in Advisement today who was in a huff about one of her teachers: what the student was reporting did sound unduly harsh on the professor's part (though I don't know the professor's side of the story), but even so, getting in a snit about it does not fix the situation--and no, we're not going to make exceptions for you because you don't think you've been treated fairly. News flash: life isn't fair, kiddies. We all take our undeserved knocks. We also get undeserved rewards. But in order to get anything at all, you have to stay in the game.
And speaking of staying in the game, the student who was poised to be one of my favorites this term but who had been AWOL contacted me today, finally answering the e-mail I sent in which I said I was worried about him. He asked to meet this afternoon, and I told him I could meet after 5, but that if he couldn't get here until after 6, he should e-mail me to let me know. He hasn't shown up, and I haven't heard from him. He reports that he's been in a terrible upheaval in his life--and I see no reason to disbelieve him--but the only thing that matters is that he has to get back on track. Continuing the motif of this post, much as I like him, I can't simply make exceptions in his case: there is a certain amount of work that the student has to do, no matter what else happens. If that minimum of work isn't done, the outcome will not be good.
Today's class was a bit of a disaster, too. I'm seriously considering simply ditching the rest of the readings, finding something else we can use for that portion of their grades. They simply can't seem to talk about the stories we read. Well, the Pseudo-Brit can, in his pompous, "I'm more brilliant than anyone" way, and one of my students from last year--a young man who is eternally, chronically late--can talk about the stories, but for the rest? Pulling teeth. I think we'll do more workshop-esque stuff with the exercises I'm having them do at home: let's talk about what we've got, how we might work on it to make it into something more, do some more writing on it in class.... The readings just don't work. I'll be mulling that over between now and Wednesday.
I also feel like things are in an unholy mess in both the office and my mind, but I can't seem to pull myself together enough to get truly organized. I have some copying I have to do, which is nicely brainless, but really, one of the things I feel is most lacking organization is any sense of what I'm going to do with the students in class tomorrow--when I put the schedule together, I thought we'd start reading the next essay in class, but I don't think that's going to work--and yet I can't seem to corral my mental processes well enough to figure out what will be most beneficial to them.
Side note: I did look at the next two paper assignments for the 101 classes and found a whopping error in each one. Nice to catch it now, before making the copies to distribute to the students.
But truly, I don't feel like I can think much more, and I am starting to feel anxious about the fact that I can't seem to think much more--which probably means it's about time to pack it in for the day. I'll noodle around for a while longer, hoping maybe Mr. AWOL shows up, but I'll simply have to home that tomorrow (being another day and all) will arrive with a little more mental acumen than I have at the moment.
Case in point: I got a petulant e-mail from a student asking for an extension on the deadline for his paper. His reason is that it isn't fair for him to have to do the paper, because I'm still holding on to one of his homework submissions: two pieces of one of his assignments had gotten separated, part of it attached to another student's homework, and so I'd asked him to resubmit the thing all together so I could correct his mark. I had to breathe carefully through my visceral reaction to the rather snotty "it isn't fair" bit, and I wrote him what I thought was a very compassionate e-mail in which I said no, I'm sorry, I can't extend the deadline, not because I'm being mean but because I have to get the paper back to you so you can do phase two. However, I told him, I can leave the assignment for you to pick up today, and blah, blah, every way I could think of to tell him A) that he could take a little responsibility (although I have his notes--which, I must say, are pretty valueless anyway--he can still access the article, as he found it doing an online database search) but B) he shouldn't worry because there are plenty of ways he can do the assignment without the missing notes.
The notes are still sitting on my office door. I haven't heard anything further from him. Somehow I think he'll show up with a withdrawal form, sooner or later.
I know this is part of their learning curve, and that it is important for them to have to encounter limits, be told "no"--but it drives me nuts that they simply get huffy and leave. I overheard a student in Advisement today who was in a huff about one of her teachers: what the student was reporting did sound unduly harsh on the professor's part (though I don't know the professor's side of the story), but even so, getting in a snit about it does not fix the situation--and no, we're not going to make exceptions for you because you don't think you've been treated fairly. News flash: life isn't fair, kiddies. We all take our undeserved knocks. We also get undeserved rewards. But in order to get anything at all, you have to stay in the game.
And speaking of staying in the game, the student who was poised to be one of my favorites this term but who had been AWOL contacted me today, finally answering the e-mail I sent in which I said I was worried about him. He asked to meet this afternoon, and I told him I could meet after 5, but that if he couldn't get here until after 6, he should e-mail me to let me know. He hasn't shown up, and I haven't heard from him. He reports that he's been in a terrible upheaval in his life--and I see no reason to disbelieve him--but the only thing that matters is that he has to get back on track. Continuing the motif of this post, much as I like him, I can't simply make exceptions in his case: there is a certain amount of work that the student has to do, no matter what else happens. If that minimum of work isn't done, the outcome will not be good.
Today's class was a bit of a disaster, too. I'm seriously considering simply ditching the rest of the readings, finding something else we can use for that portion of their grades. They simply can't seem to talk about the stories we read. Well, the Pseudo-Brit can, in his pompous, "I'm more brilliant than anyone" way, and one of my students from last year--a young man who is eternally, chronically late--can talk about the stories, but for the rest? Pulling teeth. I think we'll do more workshop-esque stuff with the exercises I'm having them do at home: let's talk about what we've got, how we might work on it to make it into something more, do some more writing on it in class.... The readings just don't work. I'll be mulling that over between now and Wednesday.
I also feel like things are in an unholy mess in both the office and my mind, but I can't seem to pull myself together enough to get truly organized. I have some copying I have to do, which is nicely brainless, but really, one of the things I feel is most lacking organization is any sense of what I'm going to do with the students in class tomorrow--when I put the schedule together, I thought we'd start reading the next essay in class, but I don't think that's going to work--and yet I can't seem to corral my mental processes well enough to figure out what will be most beneficial to them.
Side note: I did look at the next two paper assignments for the 101 classes and found a whopping error in each one. Nice to catch it now, before making the copies to distribute to the students.
But truly, I don't feel like I can think much more, and I am starting to feel anxious about the fact that I can't seem to think much more--which probably means it's about time to pack it in for the day. I'll noodle around for a while longer, hoping maybe Mr. AWOL shows up, but I'll simply have to home that tomorrow (being another day and all) will arrive with a little more mental acumen than I have at the moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
