I was reading the essay from one of my 102 students--a very smart, capable woman, more grown up than most--and I was unhappy to see that she'd only made superficial corrections to her essay, what I call "mechanics" corrections, and hadn't revised at all. But I also noticed that the first version of her essay, with my comments, wasn't submitted with the rest of her materials, and that's one of the submission requirements. I wrote comments on one of my rubrics, then changed them--then tore the rubric up entirely (twice), because I realized ... I never sent her the first version of her essay.
Now, you may recall that marking the essays electronically was something that had to happen because there was a snow day when the essays were due. I missed sending the essay to one student, but because I conferenced with him, the error was discovered before he got too far down the road. In the case of this woman, there was a flurry of e-mails back and forth about the submission of her essay to Turnitin (and a little bit of teaching her how to send an e-mail with the message in the e-mail itself rather than in the subject line); then there was another flurry of e-mails because she was ill the day of her conference, so we were trying to figure out when she could meet with me. As it happened, she didn't meet with me at all--and I didn't realize until today that I never sent the marked first version.
I did send her that version today, not because it will help her on this essay but because I hope that perhaps my comments will help her understand what she should do differently for the second essay. And I'm being very generous with her grade because I fucked up so badly. I grant you, she also fucked up by "forgetting" to submit the final essay to Turnitin on time, but ... well, I'm just going to let this one go.
That reminded me: I needed to make a decision about the penalty for late uploads to Turnitin for the Nature in Lit students. I'm going to be somewhat merciful this time and take half what I'd usually take.
On the other hand, several students in the 102s have blown their chance at credit for the final submission, as more than six days have passed without their uploading their essays, and my policy states that after an essay has accrued 60 points (ten points per day), it no longer receives credit. Because I am sick of students not giving enough of a shit to turn things in on time.
Full disclosure: I was terrible about turning things in late when I was an undergrad. I now empathize with my professors' frustration--and I don't know why more of them didn't take huge penalties when things were late. It's fucking annoying, is what it is.
That said, I have accomplished virtually nothing today--or at least virtually nothing in terms of marking assignments. I am only able to be sanguine about this because it looks all but certain that we'll have a snow day on Tuesday: an active blizzard watch has been issued, to the tune of 12-18 inches of snow (which almost makes me wonder if classes will be canceled on Wednesday, too--or at least Wednesday morning). I am not proud of the fact that I'm like a kid, praying for school to be closed, but that's where I am. Of course, I also realize that I'd probably have done best to have worked much harder today, and to crank through as many essays as possible tomorrow at home and around class and Advisement on Monday, in addition to the gift of an extra day in which to mark things on Tuesday, but ... well, I didn't. I've made that particular bed, so I'll end up lying in it, I suppose.
I don't know if I'll post tomorrow; it rather depends on how the essay marking goes and whether I am more than usually frustrated or delighted. (Hey, miracles do occur.) But I'm done with work for today. Time to focus on things I do purely to gratify myself.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Thursday, March 9, 2017
Lowering the boom
I looked it up. The etymology is unclear, but the meaning is what I thought: it means to call someone harshly to account, to demand obedience. So, today, I lowered the boom on two students in the 1:00 102.
I think I've explained before that I keep the attendance and grades for each student on an index card; students can ask to see their cards at any point in the semester--and now that I'm grading through accumulated points, I sometimes have the students add up their points to see where they stand, and I distribute their cards so they can check to be sure their records match mine. In the case of the two students in question, I presented each with his card and said, "Tell me what you see." "A lot of O's." "Those are zeroes." I went on to explain that both of them have submitted no work--or so little work that it doesn't count for much. ("And," I added to one of them, "your essay still isn't formatted correctly.") I made clear that to stand any chance of passing the class, each one would have to come to every class, never be late, turn in every assignment, complete everything to the absolute best of his ability--and submit it on time. Even then, the chances of passing the class are pretty damned slim. I did hold out the hope that they might be able to reach C's, though that's a real long shot. (They'd have to get essentially A's for every assignment from here on.) I told them they're grown ups and can decide what they want to do, but they need to do it: either do the work and stay, or, I said, "The next time you come to class without your work, I'll hand you the withdrawal slip."
One looked like he'd just watched his favorite toy get run over by a truck. One looked faintly sheepish but not overly concerned. Ball is firmly in their courts, and I'll be interested to see what they do. My hunch is that I'll see a split decision: one will be smart and withdraw, the other will simply disappear eventually--but I'm not sure who will do which. What would astound me would be if either were to actually come through, come to class, do the work, give it his all to complete the semester. I'm willing to be astounded, but I'd also lay some pretty long odds here.
By way of contrast, a young woman from that class made an appointment to meet with me. She's really struggling, but she's come to see me before, so I have hope. I asked her what she wanted to discuss today, and she said, "How to not fail the class." First thing to do, I explained, is to turn in the work. I won't often fail someone who has truly tried, turned in the work, done her (or his) best. We also talked about how she can do better work, and she had some fine ideas of her own; I didn't have to offer much beyond support of her intentions.
I am struggling with all my classes right now. I bitched about the students in Nature in Lit yesterday. Today, I've been complaining about the fact that--as soon as we get to talking about poetry--suddenly the wheels come off, as if we aren't reading exactly the same way we have up to this point. Yes, what we're reading is fundamentally different--poetry is (usually) markedly unlike prose--but the actual strategy for approaching it is the same: read for details, notice word choices, make connections.
In the earlier class, the students were struggling over three lines in a poem (Li-young Li's "The Gift"), so I suggested they write them out as a sentence. Ah! Comprehension dawns. As one student put it, writing it out without the line breaks allowed him to pull it all together in one idea. Good: now, consider why the line breaks are there. How do they affect the way we read the words in that one idea?
I tried the same exercise with the later class, and it failed miserably. However, with them, I found a way of explaining when we can "go deeper" with something and when something is likely to be literal, no metaphoric dimensions at all: Read the words literally first--and stick with the literal meaning unless other words in the poem (or whatever) lead you to see something more than the literal going on.
I also realized, if I ever teach 102 again, I need to either reconsider the poems I teach or I need to add footnotes to the Patricia Goedicke poem I teach, "In the Ocean," explaining that--at the time when the poem was written, "lame" had only one meaning--the literal, physical meaning (not the slang meaning of being useless or ineffectual)--and that it's important to note the use of the article "an" before the word "invalid." The father in the poem isn't (adjective) invalid (emphasis on the second syllable), but (noun) an invalid (emphasis on the first syllable). Oh! they say. That changes things.... (Um, yeah, I guess it would.)
So. I don't think I have much further to relate about today, this week. I am very aware that now there are four weeks before spring break (four more Mondays, four more Tuesdays...), and after spring break, there are four weeks until end of the semester. Four weeks is nothing. Four weeks is a sneeze, a mouse's heartbeat. Any second now, I'll be running around like my hair is on fire because there's so much to do and so little time. There's a possibility that Tuesday will be a snow-day, too: two of three weather sites are predicting 5-8 inches of snow. (The National Weather Service hasn't weighed in yet.) I would love that: there's room built into the schedule for a missed day before their essays are due, and I would have a little more time in which to grade essays as well as a little break from trying to crowbar them up off the floor.
And on that note, I think I will tie a ribbon around this week and consider it done to a turn. As am I...
I think I've explained before that I keep the attendance and grades for each student on an index card; students can ask to see their cards at any point in the semester--and now that I'm grading through accumulated points, I sometimes have the students add up their points to see where they stand, and I distribute their cards so they can check to be sure their records match mine. In the case of the two students in question, I presented each with his card and said, "Tell me what you see." "A lot of O's." "Those are zeroes." I went on to explain that both of them have submitted no work--or so little work that it doesn't count for much. ("And," I added to one of them, "your essay still isn't formatted correctly.") I made clear that to stand any chance of passing the class, each one would have to come to every class, never be late, turn in every assignment, complete everything to the absolute best of his ability--and submit it on time. Even then, the chances of passing the class are pretty damned slim. I did hold out the hope that they might be able to reach C's, though that's a real long shot. (They'd have to get essentially A's for every assignment from here on.) I told them they're grown ups and can decide what they want to do, but they need to do it: either do the work and stay, or, I said, "The next time you come to class without your work, I'll hand you the withdrawal slip."
One looked like he'd just watched his favorite toy get run over by a truck. One looked faintly sheepish but not overly concerned. Ball is firmly in their courts, and I'll be interested to see what they do. My hunch is that I'll see a split decision: one will be smart and withdraw, the other will simply disappear eventually--but I'm not sure who will do which. What would astound me would be if either were to actually come through, come to class, do the work, give it his all to complete the semester. I'm willing to be astounded, but I'd also lay some pretty long odds here.
By way of contrast, a young woman from that class made an appointment to meet with me. She's really struggling, but she's come to see me before, so I have hope. I asked her what she wanted to discuss today, and she said, "How to not fail the class." First thing to do, I explained, is to turn in the work. I won't often fail someone who has truly tried, turned in the work, done her (or his) best. We also talked about how she can do better work, and she had some fine ideas of her own; I didn't have to offer much beyond support of her intentions.
I am struggling with all my classes right now. I bitched about the students in Nature in Lit yesterday. Today, I've been complaining about the fact that--as soon as we get to talking about poetry--suddenly the wheels come off, as if we aren't reading exactly the same way we have up to this point. Yes, what we're reading is fundamentally different--poetry is (usually) markedly unlike prose--but the actual strategy for approaching it is the same: read for details, notice word choices, make connections.
In the earlier class, the students were struggling over three lines in a poem (Li-young Li's "The Gift"), so I suggested they write them out as a sentence. Ah! Comprehension dawns. As one student put it, writing it out without the line breaks allowed him to pull it all together in one idea. Good: now, consider why the line breaks are there. How do they affect the way we read the words in that one idea?
I tried the same exercise with the later class, and it failed miserably. However, with them, I found a way of explaining when we can "go deeper" with something and when something is likely to be literal, no metaphoric dimensions at all: Read the words literally first--and stick with the literal meaning unless other words in the poem (or whatever) lead you to see something more than the literal going on.
I also realized, if I ever teach 102 again, I need to either reconsider the poems I teach or I need to add footnotes to the Patricia Goedicke poem I teach, "In the Ocean," explaining that--at the time when the poem was written, "lame" had only one meaning--the literal, physical meaning (not the slang meaning of being useless or ineffectual)--and that it's important to note the use of the article "an" before the word "invalid." The father in the poem isn't (adjective) invalid (emphasis on the second syllable), but (noun) an invalid (emphasis on the first syllable). Oh! they say. That changes things.... (Um, yeah, I guess it would.)
So. I don't think I have much further to relate about today, this week. I am very aware that now there are four weeks before spring break (four more Mondays, four more Tuesdays...), and after spring break, there are four weeks until end of the semester. Four weeks is nothing. Four weeks is a sneeze, a mouse's heartbeat. Any second now, I'll be running around like my hair is on fire because there's so much to do and so little time. There's a possibility that Tuesday will be a snow-day, too: two of three weather sites are predicting 5-8 inches of snow. (The National Weather Service hasn't weighed in yet.) I would love that: there's room built into the schedule for a missed day before their essays are due, and I would have a little more time in which to grade essays as well as a little break from trying to crowbar them up off the floor.
And on that note, I think I will tie a ribbon around this week and consider it done to a turn. As am I...
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Posting early--and fast
My body nicely manufactured an incipient migraine for me today, so I could feel more justified in calling in sick to Advisement. I might as well have called in sick to Nature in Lit; the students are starting to disappoint the hell out of me. There is almost no class discussion, and even in their groups, they discuss for about 15 minutes and then, "We finished." Fifteen minutes to discuss Thoreau's essay "Walking." Fifteen minutes to discuss portions of Emerson's "Nature." Fifteen minutes to discuss the chapter "Spring" from Annie Dillard's Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. These are rich readings, but the students are locked into generalizations that pretty much lead to "he/she appreciates nature."
Fuck me sideways. Well, as one of my students said in a response to one of the readings, "what are you gonna do?" Bashing my head against a wall doesn't seem tremendously productive. I think I may have to ask the students what they think will help, because right now, I'm ready to just take attendance, collect homework, and dismiss them. (I can't actually do that, of course, but I'm not sure what I can do.)
Meanwhile, I keep adjusting the order in which I want to address all the stuff I have to mark and return. I'm conflicted between doing the most important stuff first and doing the little stuff first to clear my feet for the important stuff. At the moment, I'm leaning toward the latter--especially if I can return homework to the 102s tomorrow.
In any event, I am going to leave here in about 15 minutes. I truly am exhausted; I truly do have at least a bit of a headache, and I truly do believe that being home--even if I don't get any work done--will be beneficial. I'm operating on the assumption that I will be teaching tomorrow--and I hope to hell tomorrow is a better day, but I'm not really sanguine about the chances of that. I realize that the poems I assigned are almost tailor-made to produce clichéd, sentimentalized pabulum. O joy, o rapture.
Oh to hell with it. I'm heading out.
Fuck me sideways. Well, as one of my students said in a response to one of the readings, "what are you gonna do?" Bashing my head against a wall doesn't seem tremendously productive. I think I may have to ask the students what they think will help, because right now, I'm ready to just take attendance, collect homework, and dismiss them. (I can't actually do that, of course, but I'm not sure what I can do.)
Meanwhile, I keep adjusting the order in which I want to address all the stuff I have to mark and return. I'm conflicted between doing the most important stuff first and doing the little stuff first to clear my feet for the important stuff. At the moment, I'm leaning toward the latter--especially if I can return homework to the 102s tomorrow.
In any event, I am going to leave here in about 15 minutes. I truly am exhausted; I truly do have at least a bit of a headache, and I truly do believe that being home--even if I don't get any work done--will be beneficial. I'm operating on the assumption that I will be teaching tomorrow--and I hope to hell tomorrow is a better day, but I'm not really sanguine about the chances of that. I realize that the poems I assigned are almost tailor-made to produce clichéd, sentimentalized pabulum. O joy, o rapture.
Oh to hell with it. I'm heading out.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Long-ass day...
Dear God, sometimes Tuesdays and Thursdays are interminable. I'm noticing two things in terms of my stamina (or lack thereof): one, being here in the office as late as I am this semester is making it very challenging for me to wind down in time to get a decent night's sleep. I know I kvetch about lack of sleep all the time--I bore myself with it--but it is a thorny problem for which I would like to find a real solution. In the "never again" department, I will never again teach an evening class, unless it is absolutely, completely, utterly necessary. The last slot of the day grid is late enough (that's the 5-6:15 slot on Mondays and Wednesdays); the additional 50 minutes I need to put in to the evening class is just that many too many.
The other stamina issue is more emotional than physiological, and it has to do with trying to hoik students out of their unfocused, irresponsible, vague, lackadaisical and otherwise maddening ways. Case in point, the student who first didn't submit his revised essay at all--though he kindly handed me the version that I marked up for mechanics review--then submitted it single spaced and with just his name at the top; then, when I told him he needed to resubmit it formatted correctly, added the bullshit header that students learn I don't know where, double spaced it, and otherwise didn't change a damned thing. And it's two pages long, double spaced (minimum length requirement, four pages). He's turned in absolutely no other homework. And yet he has the intellectual chops to do really well--but he seems absolutely hell-bent on washing himself down the drain.
And he's one of many who look startled when I point out that they haven't done something basic that they need to do: attach a works cited page, format the essay correctly, write as much as the assignment required (without overwriting by 50%), submit on time, submit to Turnitin ... I could go on.
Today, in the 1:00 class, I had to say--loudly--"from now on, if you sleep through class, you are absent." That woke up the two young men who drifted off before I even finished taking attendance. I will say they managed to stay awake for the rest of the class, but honest to Christ: do I have to tell you that it's important to stay awake in class? Thanks to my kid sister's research, I know that sleep enhances memory, but that's after you've learned something. And I know Suzuki method music instruction includes having the student listen to the music as he or she sleeps--but the student is not supposed to sleep through the actual lesson.
Lollygaggers. That's what I have. Classes full of lollygaggers. https://youtu.be/XYoBOhZvBEw
I don't quite know what happened in Advisement, but I made even less progress on marking essays today than I did yesterday. I'm looking at the rapidly growing piles of stuff I have to mark and (again, the chronic, boring plaint) wondering when I'll be able to grind through it. The weekend, obviously--but will that be enough? (I'm paying for taking last weekend off, big time. I didn't even sleep enough to make it a good trade-off.) I've been feeling just the tiniest bit under the weather health-wise for a couple of days now, too. I haven't wanted to call in sick, because what I'm doing with the classes seems important, but tomorrow, I may come in just long enough to teach Nature in Lit, then bail on Advisement, pack up a bunch of stuff to mark, and roll home, just so I'm more physically comfortable--and can nap, if the urge comes upon me. My concern is that I may get too comfortable at home and may bail on Thursday as well. Not that that would be a disaster: I have a "review" day built in to the schedule for the 102s, so I could simply adjust all the reading assignments one class later and still have them ready to do the next essay when scheduled.
I don't know, I'd say I'll think about that tomorrow, when I'm stronger--but really, I'll think about that tomorrow, when I know whether I feel stronger or not.
I'd love to do a positive reframe of the day--but I almost don't need one. I'm not feeling negative (the bitching about needing to hoik students up out of their own murk notwithstanding); I'm just feeling somewhat worn down. So, departure is the better part of valor for today. I'm outta here.
The other stamina issue is more emotional than physiological, and it has to do with trying to hoik students out of their unfocused, irresponsible, vague, lackadaisical and otherwise maddening ways. Case in point, the student who first didn't submit his revised essay at all--though he kindly handed me the version that I marked up for mechanics review--then submitted it single spaced and with just his name at the top; then, when I told him he needed to resubmit it formatted correctly, added the bullshit header that students learn I don't know where, double spaced it, and otherwise didn't change a damned thing. And it's two pages long, double spaced (minimum length requirement, four pages). He's turned in absolutely no other homework. And yet he has the intellectual chops to do really well--but he seems absolutely hell-bent on washing himself down the drain.
And he's one of many who look startled when I point out that they haven't done something basic that they need to do: attach a works cited page, format the essay correctly, write as much as the assignment required (without overwriting by 50%), submit on time, submit to Turnitin ... I could go on.
Today, in the 1:00 class, I had to say--loudly--"from now on, if you sleep through class, you are absent." That woke up the two young men who drifted off before I even finished taking attendance. I will say they managed to stay awake for the rest of the class, but honest to Christ: do I have to tell you that it's important to stay awake in class? Thanks to my kid sister's research, I know that sleep enhances memory, but that's after you've learned something. And I know Suzuki method music instruction includes having the student listen to the music as he or she sleeps--but the student is not supposed to sleep through the actual lesson.
Lollygaggers. That's what I have. Classes full of lollygaggers. https://youtu.be/XYoBOhZvBEw
I don't quite know what happened in Advisement, but I made even less progress on marking essays today than I did yesterday. I'm looking at the rapidly growing piles of stuff I have to mark and (again, the chronic, boring plaint) wondering when I'll be able to grind through it. The weekend, obviously--but will that be enough? (I'm paying for taking last weekend off, big time. I didn't even sleep enough to make it a good trade-off.) I've been feeling just the tiniest bit under the weather health-wise for a couple of days now, too. I haven't wanted to call in sick, because what I'm doing with the classes seems important, but tomorrow, I may come in just long enough to teach Nature in Lit, then bail on Advisement, pack up a bunch of stuff to mark, and roll home, just so I'm more physically comfortable--and can nap, if the urge comes upon me. My concern is that I may get too comfortable at home and may bail on Thursday as well. Not that that would be a disaster: I have a "review" day built in to the schedule for the 102s, so I could simply adjust all the reading assignments one class later and still have them ready to do the next essay when scheduled.
I don't know, I'd say I'll think about that tomorrow, when I'm stronger--but really, I'll think about that tomorrow, when I know whether I feel stronger or not.
I'd love to do a positive reframe of the day--but I almost don't need one. I'm not feeling negative (the bitching about needing to hoik students up out of their own murk notwithstanding); I'm just feeling somewhat worn down. So, departure is the better part of valor for today. I'm outta here.
Monday, March 6, 2017
The fine art of procrastination
I started on evaluating the final versions of essays for the 102 classes today; I truly did. I got two and a half done. This was not a case of my not having time. I had plenty of time and could, in theory, have gotten quite a few done. It was very quiet in Advisement, and I didn't have anyone coming to see me in my office hour or seminar hour after Advisement, so I had oodles of time in which to mark things--and I ended up doing anything else, whatever I could think of. I don't even know what else I thought of (though I did just spend a little time looking for images of monkeys and owls to find faces that looked similar, as illustration for a line in one of the Mary Oliver poems we're going to discuss in 102 tomorrow). I wrote a couple of letters of recommendation. I probably checked Turnitin.com 400 times to see who has and has not submitted an essay, who submitted late, who submitted to Turnitin but didn't submit a hard copy....
And while I'm on that vein, two particular peeves:
1. The student who writes an e-mail essentially saying, "Hi, you barely know me, but I need a letter of recommendation tomorrow. I don't know where you need to send it or anything else. But you'll do it, right?" (Much better the student who asked two weeks in advance--and apologized for the short notice.)
2. The ever-growing number of students who do not follow through on basic requirements. Even a couple of the better students either were late with the upload to Turnitin or neglected it entirely. I sent a reminder to everyone (which I probably shouldn't do)--and several students got back to me with essentially a shrug, saying "I thought I uploaded it"--and then attached the essay to the e-mail for me to upload.
How many times have I said that it is crucial to upload to Turnitin? How many places have I written out the penalties for late submission--or submission that is missing entirely? How many times have I told students they have to go through the Blackboard page? How many times have I said, "Make sure you got the confirmation e-mail; if you didn't submit again"?
Countless. And it makes zero impact. Sometimes I feel I must be in some kind of cone of silence, so I'm speaking but no one can hear what I say.
I'm trying very hard not to be systemically cranky, and to remember the things about this job that I still love instead of perpetually thinking how much I want to get out of here, retire, go do something else: the urge to flee is powerful. But I am old and wise enough now to know it's a good idea to have something to flee toward, instead of simply running away to god knows what. And as long as I haven't figured out what that something is, it clearly isn't time for me to go.
But I still find myself counting days. I have nine more Mondays this semester. (There are ten weeks left before classes end, but one of those Mondays is during spring break.) After tomorrow, I'll have eight more Tuesdays ... and so on, through the week. And I am counting. Boy am I counting. Not even counting to spring break: counting to end of classes.
I know I'll go through a brief flurry of craziness scheduling summer classes with Cathy after classes end--but that isn't the same as having to teach, and it will be over very quickly.
Shifting gears radically, today in the Student Services Center I encountered a student from one of last semester's 102s. We chatted; she asked me how my semester was going. I told her I'm not teaching Left Hand of Darkness this semester, and she asked rather plaintively why not. I told her too many students had found it an insurmountable hurdle last semester--indeed she seemed to be one of them--but she told me she talks about the novel all the time, tells friends they should read it. The ones who get it really get it and (usually) love it. The ones who can't really can't--and I'm tired of the battle.
I'll face a somewhat different battle with The Word for World Is Forest: they'll understand the book, but the critical essays may be an insurmountable obstacle. One or two may be somewhat accessible to the students, but most will be challenging in the extreme. But at least I won't be repeating the same thing I've said over and over in the past: same basic struggles, but new words, and even that small shift will be good.
I'm about out of energy for tonight. I'm going to stagger homeward soon here. I have to make up time in Advisement tomorrow, which means getting here at 9:30 a.m., not the more usual 10-10:30, but I'm all packed up and ready to go, so the morning should be relatively smooth. One can only hope.
And maybe I'll mark more essays tomorrow. (Maybe pigs will be doing aeronautic displays, flying with the Blue Angels.)
And while I'm on that vein, two particular peeves:
1. The student who writes an e-mail essentially saying, "Hi, you barely know me, but I need a letter of recommendation tomorrow. I don't know where you need to send it or anything else. But you'll do it, right?" (Much better the student who asked two weeks in advance--and apologized for the short notice.)
2. The ever-growing number of students who do not follow through on basic requirements. Even a couple of the better students either were late with the upload to Turnitin or neglected it entirely. I sent a reminder to everyone (which I probably shouldn't do)--and several students got back to me with essentially a shrug, saying "I thought I uploaded it"--and then attached the essay to the e-mail for me to upload.
How many times have I said that it is crucial to upload to Turnitin? How many places have I written out the penalties for late submission--or submission that is missing entirely? How many times have I told students they have to go through the Blackboard page? How many times have I said, "Make sure you got the confirmation e-mail; if you didn't submit again"?
Countless. And it makes zero impact. Sometimes I feel I must be in some kind of cone of silence, so I'm speaking but no one can hear what I say.
I'm trying very hard not to be systemically cranky, and to remember the things about this job that I still love instead of perpetually thinking how much I want to get out of here, retire, go do something else: the urge to flee is powerful. But I am old and wise enough now to know it's a good idea to have something to flee toward, instead of simply running away to god knows what. And as long as I haven't figured out what that something is, it clearly isn't time for me to go.
But I still find myself counting days. I have nine more Mondays this semester. (There are ten weeks left before classes end, but one of those Mondays is during spring break.) After tomorrow, I'll have eight more Tuesdays ... and so on, through the week. And I am counting. Boy am I counting. Not even counting to spring break: counting to end of classes.
I know I'll go through a brief flurry of craziness scheduling summer classes with Cathy after classes end--but that isn't the same as having to teach, and it will be over very quickly.
Shifting gears radically, today in the Student Services Center I encountered a student from one of last semester's 102s. We chatted; she asked me how my semester was going. I told her I'm not teaching Left Hand of Darkness this semester, and she asked rather plaintively why not. I told her too many students had found it an insurmountable hurdle last semester--indeed she seemed to be one of them--but she told me she talks about the novel all the time, tells friends they should read it. The ones who get it really get it and (usually) love it. The ones who can't really can't--and I'm tired of the battle.
I'll face a somewhat different battle with The Word for World Is Forest: they'll understand the book, but the critical essays may be an insurmountable obstacle. One or two may be somewhat accessible to the students, but most will be challenging in the extreme. But at least I won't be repeating the same thing I've said over and over in the past: same basic struggles, but new words, and even that small shift will be good.
I'm about out of energy for tonight. I'm going to stagger homeward soon here. I have to make up time in Advisement tomorrow, which means getting here at 9:30 a.m., not the more usual 10-10:30, but I'm all packed up and ready to go, so the morning should be relatively smooth. One can only hope.
And maybe I'll mark more essays tomorrow. (Maybe pigs will be doing aeronautic displays, flying with the Blue Angels.)
Thursday, March 2, 2017
How to piss off the professor in three e-mails
Step 1: "Sorry for missing class on Tuesday. I had three exams between Monday and Tuesday so my attention was diverted. Could you please help me with my citations? Since I never attended the Mechanic's Review, I was not able to receive your help."
Step 2: "also what page on the PSM can i find how to properly add citations into my essay because you marked it wrong on my essay."
Step 3: "I have finished all the work I need for today's class except the revision plan. I am not sure what the revision plan is. Can you please elaborate?"
Answer to all three questions: there are handouts. I talked about this in class. We went over this in conference. The information is in your handbooks. And no, I'm not going to teach you the class via e-mail.
OK, I confess: These were not all from the same student--but I got them all in a wodge this morning, and I got so cranky, I nearly strangled a student who was actually being very diligent and worrying about an absence she knows will occur in April. I also didn't receive all of the "Step 1" message until just now, for some reason, so I didn't see that the student actually needed to know where to find the title and copyright pages for the anthologies I used for the class reader--but even so, "I was more concerned about other classes" isn't tailor made to engender a positive and helpful response from me.
Plus, I'm just tired and cranky anyway. Sue me. Revoke my tenure.
Given my cranky state, it was most interesting to receive an invitation to participate in a survey generated by the Collaborative on Academic Careers in Higher Education (COACHE) at Harvard University. Our new academic VP apparently provided a list of people to be surveyed; I don't know if it was our entire faculty or only some of us--but the questions sure gave me an opportunity to blow off some steam about the path the Board and Administration seem to be forcing us down. The only problem I had was that some questions I couldn't answer without potentially implicating the senate, which I did not want to do; my answers would have been very different if the question had asked about how I felt in terms of the administration versus how I felt about any faculty entity. There was a question at the end about the ONE thing that I thought was most important to job satisfaction--and it was an open text box, so man, I went to town. "Shared governance" means shared, goddammit, and not just shared by the administration and the BOT. Straight-jacketed uniformity is contrary to the goals of actual education, though it may provide nice, neat beans to count.
(cue sound effects: snarling; chains rattling; loud, basso profundo German shepherd barking...)
(So, and how are you?)
On a much more positive note, classes were OK--not wonderful, but OK. We started on poetry today, and that can be dicey, but I didn't get the sense that they were immediately checking out (except the young man who falls asleep every class; I need to talk with him). The 5:30 class let me know there were howling blunders in the grade calculation sheet I had provided. I don't know what I printed, but it isn't what I have saved on the computer, which was correct. In any event, I've printed out the correct pages and will copy them before Tuesday's classes--and I did uncover an error on the syllabus when I was checking the grade sheet, so I'll fix that with them in class.
And just ... like ... that, my brain has ceased to want to even glance at anything having anything to do with work. I am deliberately leaving all work here in the office, not taking a smidgen home with me. I may regret that down the line, but having a weekend when I don't have to look at student assignments will be nothing short of bliss--and the fact that I'm caught up enough that I can even risk it is heaven in itself.
I will now put the pages to be photocopied prominently on top of the stacks of shit on my desk, put my water bottle in my tote bag, and walk insouciantly out the door.
Step 2: "also what page on the PSM can i find how to properly add citations into my essay because you marked it wrong on my essay."
Step 3: "I have finished all the work I need for today's class except the revision plan. I am not sure what the revision plan is. Can you please elaborate?"
Answer to all three questions: there are handouts. I talked about this in class. We went over this in conference. The information is in your handbooks. And no, I'm not going to teach you the class via e-mail.
OK, I confess: These were not all from the same student--but I got them all in a wodge this morning, and I got so cranky, I nearly strangled a student who was actually being very diligent and worrying about an absence she knows will occur in April. I also didn't receive all of the "Step 1" message until just now, for some reason, so I didn't see that the student actually needed to know where to find the title and copyright pages for the anthologies I used for the class reader--but even so, "I was more concerned about other classes" isn't tailor made to engender a positive and helpful response from me.
Plus, I'm just tired and cranky anyway. Sue me. Revoke my tenure.
Given my cranky state, it was most interesting to receive an invitation to participate in a survey generated by the Collaborative on Academic Careers in Higher Education (COACHE) at Harvard University. Our new academic VP apparently provided a list of people to be surveyed; I don't know if it was our entire faculty or only some of us--but the questions sure gave me an opportunity to blow off some steam about the path the Board and Administration seem to be forcing us down. The only problem I had was that some questions I couldn't answer without potentially implicating the senate, which I did not want to do; my answers would have been very different if the question had asked about how I felt in terms of the administration versus how I felt about any faculty entity. There was a question at the end about the ONE thing that I thought was most important to job satisfaction--and it was an open text box, so man, I went to town. "Shared governance" means shared, goddammit, and not just shared by the administration and the BOT. Straight-jacketed uniformity is contrary to the goals of actual education, though it may provide nice, neat beans to count.
(cue sound effects: snarling; chains rattling; loud, basso profundo German shepherd barking...)
(So, and how are you?)
On a much more positive note, classes were OK--not wonderful, but OK. We started on poetry today, and that can be dicey, but I didn't get the sense that they were immediately checking out (except the young man who falls asleep every class; I need to talk with him). The 5:30 class let me know there were howling blunders in the grade calculation sheet I had provided. I don't know what I printed, but it isn't what I have saved on the computer, which was correct. In any event, I've printed out the correct pages and will copy them before Tuesday's classes--and I did uncover an error on the syllabus when I was checking the grade sheet, so I'll fix that with them in class.
And just ... like ... that, my brain has ceased to want to even glance at anything having anything to do with work. I am deliberately leaving all work here in the office, not taking a smidgen home with me. I may regret that down the line, but having a weekend when I don't have to look at student assignments will be nothing short of bliss--and the fact that I'm caught up enough that I can even risk it is heaven in itself.
I will now put the pages to be photocopied prominently on top of the stacks of shit on my desk, put my water bottle in my tote bag, and walk insouciantly out the door.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Posting fast
I started writing this a bit ago, and was saying that I didn't expect to actually see the student I was scheduled to meet--and then she was at the door. I'm glad. She is very smart, but she started out the semester very confused, and she's been late to class a lot, so I was worried that she might be slipping through the cracks. (Her essay was a bit disappointing, too.) But she seems to be latching on to the concepts better now, and she wants to get caught up on the work that she missed at the start because she was so confused. I hope she gets her feet under her and really takes off: she has the potential to be quite good, but I'm not so certain she can realize that potential. But hope springs eternal.
Class today was about like usual. They seem to have a fair amount to say in their groups but a lot less when it comes to talking with the class as a whole. I seem to remember one instance when they were bouncing ideas off each other without involving me (or was that a different class a different semester? It's all such a blur)--but now the silences are more noticeable than any good conversation.
However, today it seemed to me that they weren't shut down or confused; the silence seemed to be because they were thinking--and going back to the text to delve into it further. If that's the case, I don't mind the silences so much. Maybe it will help me if I act as if that's the case, even when my gut is telling me otherwise. Can't hurt. Might help.
Things were mercifully quiet in Advisement (though it was one of those days when I found myself thinking, "Am I the only person seeing students??"). I tried to crank through the enormous stack of homework for the 5:30 102, stuff I hoped to have marked and back to them yesterday. But clearly I didn't have the requisite focus: I was finding just about any excuse I possibly could to keep from looking at it--including coming up with questions/comments for Cathy and P&B. (I would have turned to the candy jar at the reception desk for something to keep my energy up and keep me amused, but all it had in it today was Hershey's Kisses, which aren't worth the effort, in my estimation.) I finally realized I should stop even pretending I was going to get any more work done, so I've been noodling since I got back to the office.
I will be back in Advisement in the morning, making up part of the time I missed during my week of conferences, and I hope I can churn through more of the assignments then (as well as the teeny stack I have for the 1:00 class). I have some life maintenance to do this evening, so I'm going to toddle off now and get that done. I don't think it's a good sign that I'm already thinking in terms of how many more weeks/classes I have to get through before the semester is over--but perhaps I'll get a bit of an energy surge in here somewhere, if I can feel even momentarily on top of the work. I have lots of essays coming in, however: final versions from both 102s tomorrow, and on Monday, first essay from Nature in Lit. Fun and frolic, my dears, beer and skittles.
Class today was about like usual. They seem to have a fair amount to say in their groups but a lot less when it comes to talking with the class as a whole. I seem to remember one instance when they were bouncing ideas off each other without involving me (or was that a different class a different semester? It's all such a blur)--but now the silences are more noticeable than any good conversation.
However, today it seemed to me that they weren't shut down or confused; the silence seemed to be because they were thinking--and going back to the text to delve into it further. If that's the case, I don't mind the silences so much. Maybe it will help me if I act as if that's the case, even when my gut is telling me otherwise. Can't hurt. Might help.
Things were mercifully quiet in Advisement (though it was one of those days when I found myself thinking, "Am I the only person seeing students??"). I tried to crank through the enormous stack of homework for the 5:30 102, stuff I hoped to have marked and back to them yesterday. But clearly I didn't have the requisite focus: I was finding just about any excuse I possibly could to keep from looking at it--including coming up with questions/comments for Cathy and P&B. (I would have turned to the candy jar at the reception desk for something to keep my energy up and keep me amused, but all it had in it today was Hershey's Kisses, which aren't worth the effort, in my estimation.) I finally realized I should stop even pretending I was going to get any more work done, so I've been noodling since I got back to the office.
I will be back in Advisement in the morning, making up part of the time I missed during my week of conferences, and I hope I can churn through more of the assignments then (as well as the teeny stack I have for the 1:00 class). I have some life maintenance to do this evening, so I'm going to toddle off now and get that done. I don't think it's a good sign that I'm already thinking in terms of how many more weeks/classes I have to get through before the semester is over--but perhaps I'll get a bit of an energy surge in here somewhere, if I can feel even momentarily on top of the work. I have lots of essays coming in, however: final versions from both 102s tomorrow, and on Monday, first essay from Nature in Lit. Fun and frolic, my dears, beer and skittles.
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