It is intensely foggy outside. Matches the feeling inside.
I don't have the energy for much of a post tonight--and I'm facing a hellish two days, trying to get all the student papers commented on and ready to go by Wednesday afternoon. I have to be in as early as I can stand it tomorrow, and stay as late as I can stand, and call in "sick" to Advisement--and even with all of that, it's going to be dicey.
And that's even with the fact that a lot of the students didn't show up today, haven't e-mailed--don't have papers. If I had all the papers, I'd really be fucked. As it is, I'm only slightly fucked. I do expect that a few more papers will show up: students wanting to submit them tomorrow, that sort of thing. Well, we'll see.
One of the students in the earlier 102 is trying to use the "but I'm funny and charming, therefore the rules don't apply to me" routine. My response is, "You are funny and charming, and I enjoy you thoroughly--but the rules still apply." Today he said he was only a little late. I said, "Do you know what 'a little late' is?" He looked at me blankly. "It's late." Oh. He's trying to jolly me out of being strict: not gonna happen. He's pulling the "that was harsh; it hurt my feelings" card. I need to show him the Doonesbury cartoon that's on my office door, in which the professor says, "Here students gain confidence through actual achievement, not through grade inflation and empty praise. The real world demands results. It doesn't much care whether you hold yourself in high regard. That era is over." (Man, I love Trudeau. I may start using that as the cover of the photocopied reader.) Mr. Aren't I Cute also asked me to give him some leeway "out of the goodness of my heart." I asked him what gave him the impression I had any.
But it was all very light hearted. He may be shocked when he sees my commentary on his paper (most everyone will be), but, well, see the quotation above. Meanwhile, I need to get home so I can get to bed so I can get up so I can come back in here and fling myself back into the fray. While I fray around the edges. But this too shall pass. Never mind tomorrow being another day: God willing, there will be other semesters. I just have to get through this one, one day at a time.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Balm to the soul
Earlier today I got kicked in the heart (metaphorically) and was so distraught I was unsure I would be able to finish the day--even though it's a short day. I entirely missed the department meeting (though William informs me that I didn't miss anything important), but I managed to pull myself together well enough to finish marking the few assignments for Native American Lit--even started on some stuff for the 102s--and then went to class.
A number of the students were missing (they tend to disappear when I've assigned something challenging to read--and a few are already in danger of not passing the class), but those who were there were great. I started with very technical stuff about paper formatting, getting them ready for their mini-papers, due Tuesday. Then we sat in a circle to talk about the chapters I'd assigned from Vine Deloria's God Is Red. It's very dense, challenging material--and even the study questions are not easy--but I told them that even having an answer they didn't think was good would be helpful: we could work through it and get to something good, and that would be beneficial to everyone. I also remembered to encourage them to be in touch with me if they're not seeing marks they like on their logs, or if they're struggling with the reading, or anything: I assured them that I want to help them, so they shouldn't feel like they need to flounder.
I wouldn't say there was a lively discussion of the reading, but they had smart answers and good questions--and then we just got into some questions about Native beliefs, Native history in general. Two students spoke up for the first time (hooray!). And much to my amazement, next thing I knew, it was the end of the class period--and I'd thought I might let them go after about 10 minutes.
But the best part was after class. Several students stayed to talk after class. One young woman said she was really struggling with the readings, and I was reassuring: they're very challenging, I said, difficult material. I said she may find it easier once we get into the literature itself (as mostly we've been reading background stuff), but that if she continues to feel like she's in deep water, she should contact me and we'll work on things together. The problem could be that she needs new techniques for reading, or that she needs some conceptual framework, or who knows what, but that we can work it out.
And then one young man came up to me to tell me how much he loves the class. He was practically bursting out of his skin with enthusiasm. He kept saying, "I love this class!" He's going to become a physical therapist, so math and science are his thing, but he loves the way the readings challenge him to think "outside the box," to think critically (he used the term), to have ideas "out of left field." He said, yeah, he likes his math and science classes--but this one just sets him alight. I asked him to write a letter to the president of the college, or to the board of trustees, or both, to tell them how much the class means to him--and why. I told him that they are generally interested in killing off the humanities because we don't help students find good jobs--and he said A) there are no good jobs anyway, and B) that he feels having his brain stretched by my class makes him much more interesting and versatile as a job applicant anyway.
Manna. Truly: falling from heaven, manna. It was lovely to hear his delight in the class, his desire to be challenged--his willingness to get "torn apart" by his grades because he feels he's really learning something worth learning. Precious. Wonderful. I am grateful.
A number of the students were missing (they tend to disappear when I've assigned something challenging to read--and a few are already in danger of not passing the class), but those who were there were great. I started with very technical stuff about paper formatting, getting them ready for their mini-papers, due Tuesday. Then we sat in a circle to talk about the chapters I'd assigned from Vine Deloria's God Is Red. It's very dense, challenging material--and even the study questions are not easy--but I told them that even having an answer they didn't think was good would be helpful: we could work through it and get to something good, and that would be beneficial to everyone. I also remembered to encourage them to be in touch with me if they're not seeing marks they like on their logs, or if they're struggling with the reading, or anything: I assured them that I want to help them, so they shouldn't feel like they need to flounder.
I wouldn't say there was a lively discussion of the reading, but they had smart answers and good questions--and then we just got into some questions about Native beliefs, Native history in general. Two students spoke up for the first time (hooray!). And much to my amazement, next thing I knew, it was the end of the class period--and I'd thought I might let them go after about 10 minutes.
But the best part was after class. Several students stayed to talk after class. One young woman said she was really struggling with the readings, and I was reassuring: they're very challenging, I said, difficult material. I said she may find it easier once we get into the literature itself (as mostly we've been reading background stuff), but that if she continues to feel like she's in deep water, she should contact me and we'll work on things together. The problem could be that she needs new techniques for reading, or that she needs some conceptual framework, or who knows what, but that we can work it out.
And then one young man came up to me to tell me how much he loves the class. He was practically bursting out of his skin with enthusiasm. He kept saying, "I love this class!" He's going to become a physical therapist, so math and science are his thing, but he loves the way the readings challenge him to think "outside the box," to think critically (he used the term), to have ideas "out of left field." He said, yeah, he likes his math and science classes--but this one just sets him alight. I asked him to write a letter to the president of the college, or to the board of trustees, or both, to tell them how much the class means to him--and why. I told him that they are generally interested in killing off the humanities because we don't help students find good jobs--and he said A) there are no good jobs anyway, and B) that he feels having his brain stretched by my class makes him much more interesting and versatile as a job applicant anyway.
Manna. Truly: falling from heaven, manna. It was lovely to hear his delight in the class, his desire to be challenged--his willingness to get "torn apart" by his grades because he feels he's really learning something worth learning. Precious. Wonderful. I am grateful.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
done for the day
Cooked. Toast.
I did manage to get all the logs marked before classes--just, but it was done. The 102s are apparently going to keep me guessing all semester: they flip-flopped again today. Most of the students were there for the earlier section and the discussion was lively and good, got into parts of the story that we often miss. There were 11 students in the second section, and "discussion" wouldn't readily describe what was going on. Even going over the paper assignment was infinitely more invigorating and intelligent in the earlier section.
It does make me wonder what the specific magic ingredients are for each class: which students or how many need to be there in order for things to catch fire. Very strange.
But even the second section did well enough that my classes removed the bad taste from my mouth after Advisement. The last student I saw was furious because it turned out she was missing a class she needed to graduate. She went on and on, then got her mother on the phone, which got her even more worked up and unhappy. After consulting with one of the pros, I offered her two solutions, but that wasn't what she wanted. She was saying things like the person who last advised her should have to pay for the course she needs to take, blah blah. I pointed out that she had some responsibility in this too, that she also is capable of reading the requirements and seeing where there is something missing--and that advisers are human beings, too, and capable of making mistakes. But she kept saying, "I'm a student, I came in here so someone would tell me what I need to do"--as if being a student means she's incapable of figuring out whether she has fulfilled her degree requirements. Turns out, she hadn't even seen an adviser for last fall's registration--and the last time she did see an adviser, she was told she needed the course that she is missing.
I was calm and reasonable, but also felt I needed to point out that she was not being either of those things--and she kept getting more and more and more worked up (with Mom in the background, egging her on). Eventually I said, "We're looking into what happened. I'm going to ask you to get off the phone now; you can call your mother back when we have found out what we can." And then I palmed her off on one of the pros. But it was almost funny to see how many people got involved in trying to figure out what had happened and make sure it was not, in fact, the fault of anyone in Advisement. (There was some sense of "gotcha" when it was determined that she didn't see an adviser prior to registering for fall.) And I'm rather proud of myself--and somewhat amazed--that I didn't even come close to losing my temper with her. And I'm grateful that I was able to turn her over to the pro.
I also got an e-mail from a student apologizing for not having been in class this week and asking for me to tell him what we'd covered, assuring me he'd be back next week. I wrote a rather lengthy e-mail explaining that in fact he's been in class once: he already has four absences, when three is the limit before facing a penalty--and that he's missed all the discussion and preparation for the major paper due on Monday. To encapsulate, I told him my advice would be for him to withdraw. I do hope he does.
In comparison to that, the spells of quiet and lack of response in the later 102 seem completely fine. When they did talk, it was good stuff--so we'll see how their papers are. Paul and I both are rather dreading their reactions to that particular blood bath--but at least my students know the first "grade" isn't going to count: it's simply an indication what the paper would get if that were the final version, but they're required to revise, so the grade should (one hopes) change for the better.
I'm tired. I'm just chronically, systemically, utterly tired. I'm going to make a quick run to the grocery store and then stagger home. There's a department meeting at 11:30, so technically I don't have to be up early, I know I should probably just continue to get up at 6 (I'll have to on Friday anyway) and get my body used to that routine. That would also get me in to do some work before the meeting, and that would be better than having to face bringing anything home over the weekend....
Ah, enough. I may have time for a quick post tomorrow between class and physical therapy, but if not, I'll "see" you (all 2 of you) on the flip side.
I did manage to get all the logs marked before classes--just, but it was done. The 102s are apparently going to keep me guessing all semester: they flip-flopped again today. Most of the students were there for the earlier section and the discussion was lively and good, got into parts of the story that we often miss. There were 11 students in the second section, and "discussion" wouldn't readily describe what was going on. Even going over the paper assignment was infinitely more invigorating and intelligent in the earlier section.
It does make me wonder what the specific magic ingredients are for each class: which students or how many need to be there in order for things to catch fire. Very strange.
But even the second section did well enough that my classes removed the bad taste from my mouth after Advisement. The last student I saw was furious because it turned out she was missing a class she needed to graduate. She went on and on, then got her mother on the phone, which got her even more worked up and unhappy. After consulting with one of the pros, I offered her two solutions, but that wasn't what she wanted. She was saying things like the person who last advised her should have to pay for the course she needs to take, blah blah. I pointed out that she had some responsibility in this too, that she also is capable of reading the requirements and seeing where there is something missing--and that advisers are human beings, too, and capable of making mistakes. But she kept saying, "I'm a student, I came in here so someone would tell me what I need to do"--as if being a student means she's incapable of figuring out whether she has fulfilled her degree requirements. Turns out, she hadn't even seen an adviser for last fall's registration--and the last time she did see an adviser, she was told she needed the course that she is missing.
I was calm and reasonable, but also felt I needed to point out that she was not being either of those things--and she kept getting more and more and more worked up (with Mom in the background, egging her on). Eventually I said, "We're looking into what happened. I'm going to ask you to get off the phone now; you can call your mother back when we have found out what we can." And then I palmed her off on one of the pros. But it was almost funny to see how many people got involved in trying to figure out what had happened and make sure it was not, in fact, the fault of anyone in Advisement. (There was some sense of "gotcha" when it was determined that she didn't see an adviser prior to registering for fall.) And I'm rather proud of myself--and somewhat amazed--that I didn't even come close to losing my temper with her. And I'm grateful that I was able to turn her over to the pro.
I also got an e-mail from a student apologizing for not having been in class this week and asking for me to tell him what we'd covered, assuring me he'd be back next week. I wrote a rather lengthy e-mail explaining that in fact he's been in class once: he already has four absences, when three is the limit before facing a penalty--and that he's missed all the discussion and preparation for the major paper due on Monday. To encapsulate, I told him my advice would be for him to withdraw. I do hope he does.
In comparison to that, the spells of quiet and lack of response in the later 102 seem completely fine. When they did talk, it was good stuff--so we'll see how their papers are. Paul and I both are rather dreading their reactions to that particular blood bath--but at least my students know the first "grade" isn't going to count: it's simply an indication what the paper would get if that were the final version, but they're required to revise, so the grade should (one hopes) change for the better.
I'm tired. I'm just chronically, systemically, utterly tired. I'm going to make a quick run to the grocery store and then stagger home. There's a department meeting at 11:30, so technically I don't have to be up early, I know I should probably just continue to get up at 6 (I'll have to on Friday anyway) and get my body used to that routine. That would also get me in to do some work before the meeting, and that would be better than having to face bringing anything home over the weekend....
Ah, enough. I may have time for a quick post tomorrow between class and physical therapy, but if not, I'll "see" you (all 2 of you) on the flip side.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
heavy sigh
It's been a mad dash today, and it isn't quite over, but close. Maddeningly enough, I came within one student of marking all the logs and study questions for the Native American Lit class--but I didn't get that last one marked, and didn't get the grades recorded, so, well, they'll get it all on Thursday.
I have not yet done a single log for the 102s. I pulled out their self-evaluations: I'm not even going to try to have those ready for tomorrow. Normally I'd want to have those back to them before they have to do first version of first paper, so they have a sense of what a grading monster I am--but I realize it's just hopeless to think I can get that done by tomorrow afternoon. As it is, I'm taking my whole roller-pack home with me: it includes not only the unmarked logs but everything I need for class tomorrow. I realized yesterday that it will be easiest on me if I don't even try to get back to my office in between Advisement and my first class: I have a half an hour, but by the time I walk from Advisement to my office, and then from my office to class, I've lost minutes out of that time. Since Advisement and my first class are on the same side of campus, it makes more sense to carry my lunch with me and sit somewhere down at that end of things to have a quick munch between advising and teaching. That way I can read a bit, relax a bit, breathe a bit--maybe (gasp!) even prep a bit.
I also need to go on record: I have some of the world's best colleagues. In P&B today, Bruce asked about that observation, and I said I really didn't mind that but was more worried about the letters for the promo folders--and one of my colleagues (who has been extraordinarily caring and compassionate across the board) promptly volunteered to take over the mentoring of two of the three applications for me. That's a huge load off. I do still have to do one, but that's do-able.
Class today was fine: I didn't actually have to do much teaching, as we watched the video on the Ghost Dance massacre at Wounded Knee. I thought I might not have a chance to show all the bits I wanted to, but now that I have it on DVD (instead of VHS), I could skip quickly enough past the parts I didn't need to show that we had a few minutes at the end for questions/comments. At first, they were reluctant to ask, but the young woman who was so good last class about being brave and asking questions stepped up to the plate again and got the ball rolling. You'd think I'd be over it by now, but I'm still stunned that 99% of them have never even heard of Custer....
But it suddenly occurs to me that I can recommend another video series (owned by our library) that also covers the Ghost Dance "war"; I'll send out an e-mail. Not sure if Netflix has it, but I'll check into that as well.
But now I have to create a "to do before it bursts into flames" list (pearls are bouncing everywhere) and then dash off to physical therapy. I'm not sure whether I'll have it in me to do any marking of assignments when I get home, but if not, I'll just have to get up super early in the morning to crank out some stuff before the morning appointment--and hope like mad I can finish up during my time in Advisement. I don't think I have anything scheduled for Thursday morning: if not, that will be a good opportunity to crank through as much as possible....
Bizzybizzybizzybizzy......
I have not yet done a single log for the 102s. I pulled out their self-evaluations: I'm not even going to try to have those ready for tomorrow. Normally I'd want to have those back to them before they have to do first version of first paper, so they have a sense of what a grading monster I am--but I realize it's just hopeless to think I can get that done by tomorrow afternoon. As it is, I'm taking my whole roller-pack home with me: it includes not only the unmarked logs but everything I need for class tomorrow. I realized yesterday that it will be easiest on me if I don't even try to get back to my office in between Advisement and my first class: I have a half an hour, but by the time I walk from Advisement to my office, and then from my office to class, I've lost minutes out of that time. Since Advisement and my first class are on the same side of campus, it makes more sense to carry my lunch with me and sit somewhere down at that end of things to have a quick munch between advising and teaching. That way I can read a bit, relax a bit, breathe a bit--maybe (gasp!) even prep a bit.
I also need to go on record: I have some of the world's best colleagues. In P&B today, Bruce asked about that observation, and I said I really didn't mind that but was more worried about the letters for the promo folders--and one of my colleagues (who has been extraordinarily caring and compassionate across the board) promptly volunteered to take over the mentoring of two of the three applications for me. That's a huge load off. I do still have to do one, but that's do-able.
Class today was fine: I didn't actually have to do much teaching, as we watched the video on the Ghost Dance massacre at Wounded Knee. I thought I might not have a chance to show all the bits I wanted to, but now that I have it on DVD (instead of VHS), I could skip quickly enough past the parts I didn't need to show that we had a few minutes at the end for questions/comments. At first, they were reluctant to ask, but the young woman who was so good last class about being brave and asking questions stepped up to the plate again and got the ball rolling. You'd think I'd be over it by now, but I'm still stunned that 99% of them have never even heard of Custer....
But it suddenly occurs to me that I can recommend another video series (owned by our library) that also covers the Ghost Dance "war"; I'll send out an e-mail. Not sure if Netflix has it, but I'll check into that as well.
But now I have to create a "to do before it bursts into flames" list (pearls are bouncing everywhere) and then dash off to physical therapy. I'm not sure whether I'll have it in me to do any marking of assignments when I get home, but if not, I'll just have to get up super early in the morning to crank out some stuff before the morning appointment--and hope like mad I can finish up during my time in Advisement. I don't think I have anything scheduled for Thursday morning: if not, that will be a good opportunity to crank through as much as possible....
Bizzybizzybizzybizzy......
Monday, February 4, 2013
Ah, hell
I am already so far behind in getting logs and stuff back to students that I feel like I might as well just go home, pull the covers over my head, and not come out until June. I was certain that tonight, before I left, I'd at least finish the logs that I didn't return to the later section of 102 today (I managed to get them done for the first section but not the second). But then I had copies I had to make for my meeting tomorrow, and for class tomorrow, and some little bits that I felt I had to take care of right then, before they dropped through the floorboards--and then I realized I have a set of logs and study questions for the Native American Lit students, which I need to get back to them, and here it is, after 7, and I haven't touched the 102 homework. Which wouldn't be such a disaster, except tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day: doctor's appointment, meeting, P&B, class, physical therapy, back to back to back, no time to mark doodly squat. Wednesday, I have an appointment before Advisement, too--and today demonstrated that I can't get two sections worth of logs marked in my time in Advisement.
The upshot is, god dammit, that I'm going to have to take work home with me tomorrow and try to get something done after physical therapy--even though I'll be exhausted and ready to just curl up and go into a vegetative state.
Which is precisely how I felt leaving class today, so the fact that I managed to get done even the bits I did is rather miraculous. I really can't wait until my energy levels start to return to something approaching normal.
It's telling, in fact, that I was so exhausted when I'd actually had a great class. The earlier section of 102 was a disappointment: not only were quite a few students absent, but of those who were there, only 9 had their logs. Had a pretty good class with those 9, but even so, it was dispiriting. Funny, I was remembering them as being very dull, but as I think about it more, I realize no: they actually were relatively lively, joking and participating nicely in the conversation. Just the lack of bodies in the room made the energy feel sort of low--particularly in comparison to the later section. Only three students were unprepared (and two of them were unprepared because they just read what was next in the reader instead of following my assignment schedule), and the rest were ready to have a good conversation. Not only was the talk lively, but they were laughing and teasing and being very smart. (Well, most of them: a few are pretty lumpy, but the rest make up for it.) I told them at the end that I'd had my doubts about them at the beginning but that they were great, did terrific work, were a blast.... I'm always happy when I can say that and mean it.
Shifting gears abruptly: I don't know what I'm going to do about P&B. I got the report from two of my colleagues that, when I left the meeting half-way through last week, Bruce had suggested that someone else do an observation I'm supposed to conduct, as a way to help take some of the pressure off me. Honestly, that's insignificant, compared to having to mentor those applications through the last bit of the process. I've gotten questions from all three of my mentees, and my answer has been pretty much, "Uh, uh, I don't know." I am supposed to write the letters in support of their applications (and check their personnel files), and that seems fucking overwhelming right now. And I really need to do it this week: when???
Ah, hell, I don't know. I'm going to go home and try to go to sleep early (yeah, right) and hope that by tomorrow I have a workable plan B--even if it's just apologizing and letting the students know I'm not going to comment at all on their homework, just slap a grade on it and return it. I hate to do that at the start of the semester, when some guidance can make a difference, but it may be the only way to get through this week without beating myself to a pulp.
But one never knows. Sometimes a wonderful solution will present itself all unexpected like. Here's hoping.
The upshot is, god dammit, that I'm going to have to take work home with me tomorrow and try to get something done after physical therapy--even though I'll be exhausted and ready to just curl up and go into a vegetative state.
Which is precisely how I felt leaving class today, so the fact that I managed to get done even the bits I did is rather miraculous. I really can't wait until my energy levels start to return to something approaching normal.
It's telling, in fact, that I was so exhausted when I'd actually had a great class. The earlier section of 102 was a disappointment: not only were quite a few students absent, but of those who were there, only 9 had their logs. Had a pretty good class with those 9, but even so, it was dispiriting. Funny, I was remembering them as being very dull, but as I think about it more, I realize no: they actually were relatively lively, joking and participating nicely in the conversation. Just the lack of bodies in the room made the energy feel sort of low--particularly in comparison to the later section. Only three students were unprepared (and two of them were unprepared because they just read what was next in the reader instead of following my assignment schedule), and the rest were ready to have a good conversation. Not only was the talk lively, but they were laughing and teasing and being very smart. (Well, most of them: a few are pretty lumpy, but the rest make up for it.) I told them at the end that I'd had my doubts about them at the beginning but that they were great, did terrific work, were a blast.... I'm always happy when I can say that and mean it.
Shifting gears abruptly: I don't know what I'm going to do about P&B. I got the report from two of my colleagues that, when I left the meeting half-way through last week, Bruce had suggested that someone else do an observation I'm supposed to conduct, as a way to help take some of the pressure off me. Honestly, that's insignificant, compared to having to mentor those applications through the last bit of the process. I've gotten questions from all three of my mentees, and my answer has been pretty much, "Uh, uh, I don't know." I am supposed to write the letters in support of their applications (and check their personnel files), and that seems fucking overwhelming right now. And I really need to do it this week: when???
Ah, hell, I don't know. I'm going to go home and try to go to sleep early (yeah, right) and hope that by tomorrow I have a workable plan B--even if it's just apologizing and letting the students know I'm not going to comment at all on their homework, just slap a grade on it and return it. I hate to do that at the start of the semester, when some guidance can make a difference, but it may be the only way to get through this week without beating myself to a pulp.
But one never knows. Sometimes a wonderful solution will present itself all unexpected like. Here's hoping.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
enh...
Did sort of OK with the organization, but I still feel like I'm behind the curve. Hate that.
Class went sort of OK. Students were pretty silent, afraid (I think) to share their responses--about an admittedly challenging reading. But one student conquered her insecurity and offered a few responses, got good feedback from me, and I made a point at the end to praise her for her good work. She was thrilled. Yay.
Six of the sixteen students registered weren't there. Three had written with one reason or another for not being there, but I wonder if the remaining three were scared off by the reading. Maybe. It would be a shame, but it does tend to happen. The shrinkage begins.
I just finished writing letters of recommendation for Kayla (last year's intern); it was lovely to be called upon to extoll the quality of a good student.
But now I'm heading home. We'll see how next week goes. I hope that soon this experience starts to simply feel like a semester, any semester, but that may take a while. Meanwhile, I keep on turning the crank, as my father would have said, breathing and doing what must be done.
Class went sort of OK. Students were pretty silent, afraid (I think) to share their responses--about an admittedly challenging reading. But one student conquered her insecurity and offered a few responses, got good feedback from me, and I made a point at the end to praise her for her good work. She was thrilled. Yay.
Six of the sixteen students registered weren't there. Three had written with one reason or another for not being there, but I wonder if the remaining three were scared off by the reading. Maybe. It would be a shame, but it does tend to happen. The shrinkage begins.
I just finished writing letters of recommendation for Kayla (last year's intern); it was lovely to be called upon to extoll the quality of a good student.
But now I'm heading home. We'll see how next week goes. I hope that soon this experience starts to simply feel like a semester, any semester, but that may take a while. Meanwhile, I keep on turning the crank, as my father would have said, breathing and doing what must be done.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tired. Hungry. Leaving.
I did sleep in late this morning; in fact, if the car repair place hadn't called, I might still be sleeping. I am not sure when I'll feel like I've gotten enough rest, however: not only have I not slept well for several months, grief is exhausting. Ah well.
Since I got in so late today (not even this morning: it was after noon by the time I walked into the office), I didn't get much organizing done--and there is a fair amount of stuff I want to have nailed down tomorrow. I do want to return first idea logs to the Native American Lit students, so they have an idea what to do better next time, and I do need to make copies of handouts for the 102 classes so I'm set for next week. I had intended to stay tonight to get some of that done, but, well, no.
I am happy to report, however, that both 102 classes went well today. The earlier section performed well, as I had hoped they would, and the later section redeemed themselves quite nicely, getting a good conversation going on both stories. I am a bit concerned about a young woman who was in 102 with me last semester: she had to withdraw because of a family emergency that caused excessive absences--and she was absent today (and late on Monday). I hope I'm not sensing a trend here. I've got a repeat student in the other section, too--and he may also be repeating a trend from last term, as he didn't have one of his logs today. I let it go this one time--I'll accept the log on Monday--but he'd better button it up starting right now. Still, I actively invited both those students to take the class with me again, as both are very bright and potentially capable. If they live up to their potential, they'll be a blast to have around.
I had a nice interaction with a student from the later class, at the end of that session. During class she told me she was concerned about the idea logs, whether she'd done them correctly because she'd felt confused, and I assured her that asking questions--and trying to answer them--was a wonderful way to use the logs. After class she reiterated that she is worried about having trouble understanding the stories, "getting confused," as she said--and because she wants to do well, she is very anxious. I again assured her that it's fine to be confused--that, in fact, often the best learning comes out of working through confusion. I urged her to relax and allow herself to make mistakes: as long as she learns from them, they're beneficial. She was relieved; she said she'd never before had a teacher tell her it's OK to be confused, and I think simply that I gave her that permission will make a lot of difference. I also encouraged her--and several other students--to use me as a resource, keeping in touch by e-mail or through my office hours or appointments. I want them to come to me; it's one of my favorite parts of teaching.
I did notice that the young man who wrote the lovely e-mail yesterday was not in class again today. I'm not sure what happened there, but it's not boding well. And a young man came up to me after the second class to ask if he could be allowed in: he had a long, sad story, but the upshot was that he was trying to register for a 102 class after the end of the drop-add period--and since my class has seats available, he wanted to get into mine but needed my permission. I was very sweet about it, but I told him that he'd be too far behind and it wouldn't be fair to him, as he wouldn't have the best chance of doing well. His graduation will be delayed if he can't find a teacher to let him in, and of course that makes him unhappy, but he did seem to understand that it wouldn't make much sense to get into the class only to have to withdraw or fail. I wish him luck.
I just realized, I didn't do the ice-breaker exercise with either class, though I'd meant to do it today. I will try to do it next week: it bugs me that I don't know their names yet. Well, I know a few, but not everyone, and it's important to me to know them all. I think it helps them feel comfortable--reassured that I know them well enough to tend to them as individuals--and that comfort helps them take risks, which they must do. I just realized, I also didn't give my working through frustration/what college is for speech. I guess that will have to go by the wayside this semester: we're deep enough in the work now that I don't know if/when I'd be able to take the time for it. Ah well. It will be interesting to see whether it makes a damned bit of difference.
I'll try to get on a more normal schedule tomorrow: get up at the usual time, get into the office at the usual time, finish marking logs for 229 and get a good run at organization before class. I hope. Right now, the bells just rang six o'clock: that's an early departure for me, but I'm going to take it. Maybe I can get another decent night of sleep and feel a bit closer to being compos mentis tomorrow. Signing off with a weary wave....
Since I got in so late today (not even this morning: it was after noon by the time I walked into the office), I didn't get much organizing done--and there is a fair amount of stuff I want to have nailed down tomorrow. I do want to return first idea logs to the Native American Lit students, so they have an idea what to do better next time, and I do need to make copies of handouts for the 102 classes so I'm set for next week. I had intended to stay tonight to get some of that done, but, well, no.
I am happy to report, however, that both 102 classes went well today. The earlier section performed well, as I had hoped they would, and the later section redeemed themselves quite nicely, getting a good conversation going on both stories. I am a bit concerned about a young woman who was in 102 with me last semester: she had to withdraw because of a family emergency that caused excessive absences--and she was absent today (and late on Monday). I hope I'm not sensing a trend here. I've got a repeat student in the other section, too--and he may also be repeating a trend from last term, as he didn't have one of his logs today. I let it go this one time--I'll accept the log on Monday--but he'd better button it up starting right now. Still, I actively invited both those students to take the class with me again, as both are very bright and potentially capable. If they live up to their potential, they'll be a blast to have around.
I had a nice interaction with a student from the later class, at the end of that session. During class she told me she was concerned about the idea logs, whether she'd done them correctly because she'd felt confused, and I assured her that asking questions--and trying to answer them--was a wonderful way to use the logs. After class she reiterated that she is worried about having trouble understanding the stories, "getting confused," as she said--and because she wants to do well, she is very anxious. I again assured her that it's fine to be confused--that, in fact, often the best learning comes out of working through confusion. I urged her to relax and allow herself to make mistakes: as long as she learns from them, they're beneficial. She was relieved; she said she'd never before had a teacher tell her it's OK to be confused, and I think simply that I gave her that permission will make a lot of difference. I also encouraged her--and several other students--to use me as a resource, keeping in touch by e-mail or through my office hours or appointments. I want them to come to me; it's one of my favorite parts of teaching.
I did notice that the young man who wrote the lovely e-mail yesterday was not in class again today. I'm not sure what happened there, but it's not boding well. And a young man came up to me after the second class to ask if he could be allowed in: he had a long, sad story, but the upshot was that he was trying to register for a 102 class after the end of the drop-add period--and since my class has seats available, he wanted to get into mine but needed my permission. I was very sweet about it, but I told him that he'd be too far behind and it wouldn't be fair to him, as he wouldn't have the best chance of doing well. His graduation will be delayed if he can't find a teacher to let him in, and of course that makes him unhappy, but he did seem to understand that it wouldn't make much sense to get into the class only to have to withdraw or fail. I wish him luck.
I just realized, I didn't do the ice-breaker exercise with either class, though I'd meant to do it today. I will try to do it next week: it bugs me that I don't know their names yet. Well, I know a few, but not everyone, and it's important to me to know them all. I think it helps them feel comfortable--reassured that I know them well enough to tend to them as individuals--and that comfort helps them take risks, which they must do. I just realized, I also didn't give my working through frustration/what college is for speech. I guess that will have to go by the wayside this semester: we're deep enough in the work now that I don't know if/when I'd be able to take the time for it. Ah well. It will be interesting to see whether it makes a damned bit of difference.
I'll try to get on a more normal schedule tomorrow: get up at the usual time, get into the office at the usual time, finish marking logs for 229 and get a good run at organization before class. I hope. Right now, the bells just rang six o'clock: that's an early departure for me, but I'm going to take it. Maybe I can get another decent night of sleep and feel a bit closer to being compos mentis tomorrow. Signing off with a weary wave....
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