Well, at least I'm outpacing the snail.

I got seven essays marked today. That's about half what I'd hoped--and yes, I'm spending way too long on each one (closer to an hour than the 30 minutes I should allot). This is the down-side of electronic marking: once the keyboard is under my fingers, it's like a horse with the bit between its teeth: there's no stopping me. I have tried to comment less as I go through an essay (to avoid endless iterations of the same basic comments), and I have saved at least a few comments that I seem to be using repeatedly--primarily the one about avoiding personal voice.

And the fact that so many students used personal voice gives me another of those moments of self-doubt and self-castigation: clearly, my mind says, I didn't spend enough time talking to them about avoiding personal voice, even though I showed them the example that I wanted them to follow. Still, essay after essay includes the personal anecdote--or at best, personal experience very thinly veiled as representative of what all college students experience.

I'm telling myself that their use of personal voice is OK for this first version of the first essay: let them do it a little at first, but then have them revise their way out of it. The problem I've experienced in the past, however, is that they simply turn "I" into some generic term, with results like this: "When a person first got to college, he didn't expect the strict attendance policies that he found in his English class. He also got way too many handouts..."

Really. Seriously. Can I retire now?

What with one thing or another, I am in "flight" mode these days. I have the profound urge to chuck everything and run away--but I know that's a momentary response to feeling tired, frustrated, and, well, self-castigating.

So I just spent way too long trying to get a design for a little "static" symbol rubber stamp to use on the editing review of the essays--which accomplishes nothing worthwhile, neither in terms of life maintenance nor in terms of getting any actual work done. My doing that is yet another sign--as if more were needed--that I'm feeling frustrated and looking for diversions.

Well, perhaps I'll do better tomorrow. Today I didn't get up out of the chair much; I'm always unsure what's more productive: to just sit and work (and body be damned) or get up, lose some time to walking around, but maybe (??) have better focus when I sit down again. I do tend to lose focus very quickly and easily, if my attention is distracted, which is why I often opt for the "just sit and grind" choice.

By the way, in terms of how much grading I have to do prior to each day of conferencing, Wednesday is actually pretty easy--so far. If a bunch of students suddenly go, "OMG, I just got your email and I totally forgot to upload my essay; can I do it now??"--and if I say, "Yes, you may, this one time, but there will be a whopping penalty"--I may have more marking to do at the last (or last-ish) minute. But for Monday, I have the majority of the essays available to mark--fifteen of them, compared to eight for Wednesday (out of fourteen appointments). I actually have more appointments on Monday--there just are little breaks here and there in the day, which makes it seem less onerous than the back-to-back-to-back appointments on Wednesday. Five appointments, four essays for Tuesday. Eight appointments, three essays for Thursday. I am going to be very ready for that respite. (Of course, I also have to do the editing review, but I am, as I think I said before, only going to mark a few examples of each category of error and primarily use the rubric--so my goal is 10 minutes per essay on those.)

Argh, blech. I can't any more. I'll probably post tomorrow, though. Here's hoping I get through the seven remaining for Monday's appointments plus at least a few for Tuesday....

I've seen faster snails...

I took my laptop on the train to Manhattan today, when I went in for a doctor's appointment. I had high hopes of getting two essays marked on the way in, two on the way home.

One. I did one.

I grant, I did a lot of futzing around with the format and phrasing of the rubric sheet I attach to each student's essay, but I really can't continue like this, or I'm going to be pulling all-nighters, or as close to them as my aging body and brain can handle.

I didn't get any more done after I was back out here, because life maintenance took precedence. This is one of those awful moments--all too familiar to me and to readers of this blog--when I realize that as much as I hate the fact that so many students fell into a hole over this first essay, it has saved me from utter, abject panic of the "How am I ever going to get all this done?" variety.

Fiddle lesson tomorrow: cancelled. I need the day to just nail my butt to the chair and my eyes to the computer and crank hard.

But I truly do feel like the world's worst teacher right now: I'm second guessing everything. Did I tell them X? Did I sufficiently emphasize Y? Did I go over P, W, and G well enough? (No, no, no, my inner critic says.)

On the other hand, one of my favorite students of this semester sent me an email today telling me how much he appreciates all I do and saying that all his friends are hearing about me. I don't think I've talked about him, actually. Mea culpa: this is because it's often easier for me to focus on the negatives than the positives. I'm not sure what nickname I want for him just yet, but he's one of those street-smart young men from a hard background who is deeply sincere about learning and doing well. I have a suspicion that his personal life has been a bit of a train wreck. For instance he told me on Wednesday that for nine months he thought he was going to be a father, but he and his ex-girlfriend--the mother of the baby--agreed to have a DNA test done, and he isn't, which breaks his heart on a number of levels, and he's now trying to figure out if he should stay in the ex-girlfriend's life, as he basically has been raising her first child (by another guy) for the past three years (essentially, all of the child's life). Of course, I do think, "Haven't they ever heard of birth control??" But more, I appreciate his desire to do right by the three-year-old child, a little girl, while he also works to better himself through a college education. And he's really smart. Marginally educated, but really, whip-smart. And he very clearly has a deeply open and loving heart, which melts mine. In fact, now I think of it, he reminds me of my nephew who died in 2013. No wonder I feel so fond of this young man in my class.

So, there's all that. And all I can do from here is get as much done over the next two days as possible. Wednesday is going to be the hardest day of conferences--assuming everyone shows up--as I have them back to back from 1:20 to 6, I think. Lord give me strength.

And Lord give me a good night's sleep tonight. I certainly deserve it.

Whose responsibility?

Yesterday and today, I got a few emails from students who clearly were under the misapprehension that they can submit their essays whenever they want and that yesterday's "peer review" session was just an empty exercise on "drafts"--despite my explanations to the contrary. That's on top of the students who simply didn't turn anything in and haven't contacted me either. One student clearly felt all she needed to do was the upload to Turnitin, nothing else.

So, here's the thing. I didn't hammer the deadlines and late paper penalties with them. In fact, I didn't really spend much time on an explanation of all the nuts and bolts of submission, in part because I ran out of time and in part because--foolishly--I expected them to pay attention to the assignment handout because I said, "Read over page two carefully; it has all the information about late penalties and so on."

I am again slapped in the face with the fact that I need to simplify stuff for them because 1. When confronted with multiple handouts, they get lost, 2. When confronted with text more complicated than simple 1-2 line bullet points, they blank out (and everything turns into "Blah blah blah, Ginger"), 3. They cannot handle a process that is more than about two steps long--and even that's pushing it.

Of course, those points are infuriating, frustrating, and even saddening to me: they should be able to do all those things (or at least 2 and 3), god dammit, and the fact that they can't makes me want to scream and rant and throw heavy objects.

Nevertheless, that's where they are. It's a pathetic reality, but it's a reality.

Two things need to be addressed. The more pressing is what to do about the alarming number of students who are missing part or all of their submissions--especially as at least a few of those students are well intentioned and potentially very good, once they understand the process. (Oh, and that reminds me of another subject for ranting: they seem to think that all they need to do is send an email and the situation is covered, without their ever checking for a response--especially a response that might let them know they are operating on a faulty assumption. But I digress.) I don't know what to do about those students. All I can think is to take it case by case, even though doing so ends up being uncomfortably subjective--but there is no "one size fits all" solution to the problem. Some of them deserve to face-plant into the sidewalk. Some deserve to be caught just short of the full smash--enough to scare the shit out of them but not to trash their chances at a reasonable grade for the semester.

The long-range problem to address is the complexity issue, and this is a more thorny problem to address, as essentially it means I have to rewire my brain (which is unlikely to happen between now and January). Or I need to borrow Paul's brain: he has a genius for being simple and direct--and cutting out the obfuscations. I'm quite serious about this: I really feel incapable of thinking in the bullet-point directness students need.

Saying that, I realize how torturous it is for them to do the opposite: move from their own simplistic thinking to the broader, more extensive mental explorations I require of them. Note to self: bring this up in class--not only that I am aware what I'm asking feels completely foreign but that there's a chance it may actually be somewhat impossible. I honestly don't know how much someone on their end of the spectrum really can expand, just as I honestly don't know how much I really can simplify, at least without help.

I am interested to note that my concern over the 101 students has completely overwhelmed any thoughts I have about the SF class, which I met with today. A number of students were absent (some apparently permanently), but in general, the class discussion was good. I hope I wasn't unduly snappish in my written comments to the young man who seems to have a bit of a chip on his shoulder (and who fancies himself quite the expert at analytical thought already--though I've yet to see much sign of it in his work), but his self-evaluation did arouse a response in me that I am not altogether proud of: he's the kind of kid I want to knock down several pegs. He is not, in fact, as advanced as he thinks he is, and part of me relishes disabusing him of his inflated sense of his abilities--but on the other hand, he is genuinely intelligent and if he had just a smidgen more humility, would probably be an excellent student. He may actually be more humble than he appears; I was pleased (and a bit ashamed) to see that he was carefully reading my comments. And it wasn't until I wrote that sentence that it dawned on me that he may just want to impress me: he may not think he's that wonderful, but it may be important to him that I think he's that wonderful. Ultimately, I do want to encourage him, but I also want him to have a realistic sense of where he stands.

Some echoes with my conversation with the Media Mogul last  night.

But what I like most about the SF class is that the students--for the most part--seem to hunger for the intellectual depth they find in my class: they're soaking in as much as they can, and it's deeply gratifying. I was similarly gratified that I got two expressions of desire for what I have to offer from 101 students today. One had to withdraw, more's the pity. I don't know what she'd be capable of as a student, but she seemed to really want to be in the class, and she said she wanted to take it from me in the spring. Of course, there are grains of salt sprinkled around here, but still: it's nice.

The other student is one of those who was late with his work--but he did submit both portions today, and when he came by to drop off the printout of his essay, he made a point of telling me that the rigor of my class is what he needs: that he doesn't like writing and struggles with it, but he knows how important it is and feels he'll be forced to advance his skills in my class. He's been absent a fair amount his semester (family issues, I found out today), but when he's been in class, it's been clear that he's got the intellectual chops to do well. I just wish the other three young men in that class with the most promise hadn't blown up over this first essay, as apparently they did. (Hence the panicked reaching out to Paul for aid.)

One last thing to report: I met with a student today in my capacity as evening supervisor. I won't do anything until I hear the professor's side of the equation, but from what the student said, I think the professor may have overreacted, though I can understand why. There is a way of being very direct that can come across as disrespectful and confrontational, and students frequently don't understand why professors react with anger to that kind of directness--and I'm among the professors who can have that angry response, so I completely understand my colleague's reactions. But I do want to help the student if I can without infringing on my colleague's authority. It will be interesting to see how that all shakes out.

Between that and the way I dealt with an adjunct I will be observing in a few weeks, I sometimes think I am just too soft. I know: doesn't gibe with my "big brass balls" image, but I really do have a mushy streak. The original "everything is black or white" kid: in my make-up there is very little grey area between mush and brass. Ah well.

And now I have one hell of a weekend ahead of me: shitloads of essay grading--because I need to get as much done over the next three days as possible, in order to not drown in everything that's coming down the pike right behind what I have already. I also realized last night that, like an absolute moron, I scheduled the next essays to arrive the day before my birthday, so I'll spend my birthday weekend in a similar stew (though I'm sure there will have been some significant attrition by then, if the lack of submissions on this round are anything to go by).

That's still a ways down the road, however. Sufficient unto this weekend is the grading thereof. And it's now late enough that I really need to get home to start my wind-down process (which takes for-fucking-ever, especially when I'm frustrated and feeling like a crappy teacher). I will pack up my take-home tote-bag and stagger off into the ... well, the sun already set, so the increasing autumnal darkness.

Lots of AWOL

The difference between the two sections of 101 was made obvious today. In the earlier section, there were more students present than on Monday, and all but one had essays in hand, ready to work. In the later section, ten out of twenty-four students were AWOL--including two of the best students in the class--and one didn't have an essay with him. A couple of them were clearly completely uninterested in doing the work; in fact, one of them has made his disdain for the class manifest in every possible way. He'll be getting an early warning from me, as well as an official one once the system has been activated: he's done virtually zero work. I was surprised he had an essay with him today (and I'm most curious to see what he wrote).

Another "issue" with that later section is in the form of one particular student. I may have mentioned him before: he's quite bright, and has a big personality, but he's the editor-in-chief of the student newspaper, and it's gone completely to his head. He's late every class--and his writing leaves a hell of a lot to be desired simply in terms of correct "GSP" (grammar, spelling, punctuation), not to mention that he has a habit of shooting from the hip (to use a cliché) instead of actually thinking--and he perpetually shills for the paper.

So after class, I had a longer, more serious talk with him. I truly doubt that I got through; he knows how to act as if he's being respectful and cares, but I've been to this fire too many times to buy it. Students who are deeply involved in other aspects of campus life--the paper, student government, whatever--almost always are disasters in the classroom. The other stuff is understandably a lot more fun, and all of it--class as well as the other activities--can easily take up every morsel of a person's time. They prioritize the other stuff, and their course work goes to hell.

I was pretty fierce with this young man and told him that he needs to decide now whether he wants to prioritize the paper or my class--but once we're through with this essay process, if he comes to class late, I'm going to tell him to turn around and leave: he's too disruptive. I also told him that he can shill the paper after class--but not during: class is not the forum for his trying to drum up business (or contributors). He "yes, ma'am"ed me, but as I said, I'm not buying it. For one thing, he said that he sees his extracurricular activities as being similar to being a student athlete, and "athletes get excused from class..." I jumped in: "Not by me." He was startled. "What happens if they have a game?" "It's one of their absences." Ooooh, harsh. We batted that around: this is not an athletic institution; it's an educational institution that supports athletics. I understand that our athletic teams are quite good, but I expect my colleagues in the Physical Education department to respect the work that I do.

This young man wants to be the CEO of his own media corporation. I suggested that, in that case, it might be a good idea if he could write without glaring errors at the very least. He admitted that he comes in for a fair amount of ridicule over his writing; I didn't tell him that once he gets into the work world, he'll face more than ridicule: he'll face disdain (and possible unemployment). He'll find that out in due time, if he doesn't button things up and start putting more of his emphasis on doing well in my class. He did say that his girlfriend, who goes to Fordham (I think he said) looked at the syllabus for my course and said, "Oh! It's a real college course." He also said--though it may have been lip service--that he likes the fact that my class is actually preparing students for what comes next, so they don't get smacked when they move on. As I said, he knows the things to say to please, but his actions may well tell another story. I reserve judgment. But I will cut him zero slack. He's had sufficient warning.

I will say that ending my day with that class left me in a bit of a "fuck this shit" mood. There is lots more work I could, should, do tonight before I go, but I'm just not going to do it. I really will have to get in early (or early-ish) tomorrow, however, as I realized today in Advisement that I've been holding on to student assignments in the SF class for way too long. (I also suspect that a lot of them are cheating on their homework, using online study guides, but I can't catch them at it, so I'll pretend I don't know.) So I truly do have to get those ready to return at 1, and there's a big, departmental Assessment colloquium tomorrow that I really can't miss, so my time before class is limited.

All the more reason to pretty much drop everything from today and leave it where it is until I can get to it later. And with that, my faithful readers, I am outta here.

Slightly more organized chaos...

This morning I opted to let myself sleep instead of yanking myself out of bed to be in the office at my usual time. In the short term, that may have been a minor error, but in the long term, I know taking care of my sleep is more important than work. Not that I don't still go sleep-deprived most of the time (me and almost every other U.S.-American), but when I can let myself get at least a little caught up, it's good to do.

However, that means I didn't make as much progress as I'd have liked in clearing up the chaos in the office. I foolishly told myself I could do that after P&B today--but I'd blissfully forgotten that I actually had some P&B business I had to tend to, including setting up a couple of observations. Between taking care of those little bits and orts and making sure other bits and orts were nailed down (setting up seminar hours appointments for students who can't see me, making a clean copy of the conference sign-up sheet, and so on), I neither got a chance to finish organizing nor managed to get any marking of homework for the SF class done. (I joked in class today that I'm putting together a very large collection of homework, but I feel it needs a better curator. They didn't get the humor.)

So, tomorrow is going to be, um, interesting. I have to be in to advisement early, to make up an hour that I missed last Monday (because--in the theme of today's post--I opted to sleep in a bit, which made me late), so I can't count on getting any organization done before I toddle over there. And then I'll be dealing with 101 students doing peer review of their essays and, well, whatever else needs to happen in the 101s.

I've lost track of what handouts I want them to have and what I've already given them. I will say that I didn't get some handouts to them as early in the process as I'd have liked (including, to be honest, the essay assignment). I truly do feel that I lost my brain somewhere at the end of the summer and have been trying to muddle along without one ever since.

The conversation in SF was good. The sometimes snotty student wasn't there, so another student stepped into that role. He's also very bright, somewhat resistant, and feels that he understands everything better than anyone, including me. (He might be right on that, given that my skull is filled with oatmeal, not brain.) But it was fun to manage a debate between him and another student, to acknowledge when an argument was well-made but also to challenge the argument. A lot of students were missing today. I don't blame them for not wanting to be in that classroom on a hot and humid day like today, but I am a little concerned that some of them may be dropping away. I've already apparently lost the student I had pegged as the best of the bunch, as I mentioned before. I hate when that happens.

In any event, we finished Frankenstein and now get to turn our attention to Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (And let me remark--possibly repeat--how delightful it is that the Blade Runner sequel is coming out soon, a lovely instance of synchronicity.) I'll be curious to see what they make of it (and how they feel about the fact that the last three things we read have never been made into movies).

But now, I want to get out of here so I have time to practice fiddle before it gets late enough that I am not willing to torture the neighbors with the sound of it. And tomorrow is ... well, you know the rest.

Chaos and Confusion Reign

I have no idea where things are, what needs to be done, what I have and have not copied: I'm not entirely sure about anything (who am I again?). I'm not sure quite why I feel so completely disorganized at the moment, all my plans, like those of the best of mice, gang agly.

And yet I'm going to write this post in a tremendous hurry (so I can get out of here 30 minutes ago) and simply leave all the rampant disorder exactly like it is until I return tomorrow morning. I know this increases the likelihood that I will forget something important tomorrow, but so be it. When my mind is this scrambled, I know it's best to beat a hasty retreat and return to the fray fresh (or fresh-ish) in the morning.

Meanwhile, the gap between the two 101s increases. The students in the earlier section are doing their work (for the most part) on time (for the most part); the ones in the later section--even some of the "better" students (including the military veteran I like so much)--are falling down on the job: submitting partial assignments, or doing sub-par work, or simply missing assignments entirely. The earlier section also evidenced a lot more thought and care in terms of being ready to write their essays (despite the fear factor). I suspect Wednesday may be a bit of a debacle in the later class: lots of students late, or without essays, or whatever. Of course, it's possible that the same will happen in the earlier section as well--an alarming number of students were absent today, which is not a good sign--but I have a slightly better feeling about their chances to gut their way through this first version of their essays.

I just completed the first "attendance confirmation" report (required for all sorts of reasons); I decided to get it done now, even though it's not due for a while, or I'm sure it would turn into one of those pearls that drops through the floorboards. But as I did that, I realized that it's time for my own early warning to go out, even though the college's official "early warning" system is not yet up for this term. I don't know how aggressive I'm going to be about getting the warnings into the hands of the students who need them. Part of me thinks, "I should mail this to X's home address, so I'm sure he/she gets it." A larger part of me thinks, "This is college. Students need to learn--the hard way, if necessary--what they have to do, when, and how. I've already sent an email to the students who seem to have disappeared, warning them that they need to officially withdraw. If they don't check their email to see that communication, it's not my problem."

I suppose that's often the balancing act for me: the desire to nurture and support against the knowledge that they need to button up and get themselves in order toot sweet, learn those life lessons they need to learn sooner rather than later. It is time for them to encounter someone (preferably many someones) who say, "This is your responsibility. There is no wiggle room: it's absolute."

Well, whatever. I can feel my mind metaphorically turning off the lights as I keep nattering here, so I'll draw this to a close. We'll see what the morrow brings.

Sunday Post: When Mom writes your work...

I believe that in Wednesday's post (if we can cast our minds back that far) I mentioned a student who needed to call his mother to get his password to log on to the campus computers. I just read his self-evaluation and at least the first of his discussion boards, and either he is a great deal more facile with language and understands a great deal more than is apparent from his demeanor in class, or Mom is also doing his writing for him.

Even if I'm wrong in this case--and I might be--what the fuck is the matter with parents who do that??? Do they seriously think they are helping their children by keeping them dependent and delaying the moment when their inabilities end up being so manifest as to be crippling? Is Mom going to follow you to your career, too, and do all your work for you there? And don't you think your boss might eventually figure it out?

Years ago I gave up on doing in-class essays, deciding instead to focus on spending time working through revisions. I'm half a hair from reinstating the in-class midterm and final, as students can't fudge their way out of those. Even the students who get extra time for exams are proctored in the Center for Students with Disabilities, so someone is making sure the student is doing the work (or at least most of it, depending on the generosity of the proctor).

Well, whatever.

But I'm also kicking myself for not staying on top of the discussion board posts: students are already slipping, primarily in their responses to each other's posts. They either aren't doing the responses, or the responses are just, "I agree; you made a really good point." No, no, no. As I said in the earlier section's class meeting on Wednesday, they need to review the handout on discussion boards--because handouts are only helpful if the students actually read them.

In both classes, in fact, I think I have to ask whether they are actually reading my comments, whether my comments make sense, whether they are honestly trying to address my comments. This is particularly important for me to know before I launch into grading essays. If they're not reading comments, or can't take them in, I really don't need to spend time commenting.

Speaking of things I don't need to spend time doing, I had a bunch of rubric sheets copied, only to remember that I will be doing all my commenting electronically. I also decided (forgot, remembered that I decided) to only mark a rubric about editing concerns, not to mark up copies of their initial submissions. They get too confused by seeing marks on an essay that (at least in theory) they have changed considerably. If the specific sentence isn't there or has changed, they think the problem has disappeared. So perhaps if I simply mark the rubric, saying things such as "lots of sentence fragments" or "review comma use," they'll understand that they have to work through the revised essay, find the errors I'm pointing out, and fix them (by hand on a printout first, then type them up).

We'll see.

I lost a lot of much-needed work time this weekend to attend a "Breath, Body, Mind" workshop. Ironically, of course, the purpose of the workshop was to help us decrease stress, but I found myself stressed over the fact that I was in the workshop instead of churning through student assignments. I didn't get as far as I'd hoped to tonight, but I've been horribly sleep deprived for a number of nights now, so I hit the wall already: I cannot look at one more set of reading notes, one more discussion board post, one more anything having to do with work. (Well, maybe I'll check email. But otherwise, nope.)

And I may have to bail on Advisement tomorrow. We aren't seeing many students, but seeing any students is more than I feel I can handle and still get my own stuff done. I'll consider the options in the morning--and part of what will decide for me is how well I've slept.

In order to get good sleep tonight, in fact, I need to get off the computer now. I don't need that stimulus, neither mentally nor through the effect of the light from the computer screen on my production of melatonin....

More tomorrow--at which time you'll find out how successful I was at getting caught up on the work. Stay tuned for another exciting adventure in the trenches.