I really hoped I could have the numbers crunched for at least one class today, but that isn't going to happen unless I stay very late--and I'm tired enough I'm afraid I'll make mistakes. I did get everything marked for one section of 102--the smaller, later section--but only because I also had to do an assessment of informational literacy for that section, and I'm already more than a week late with my response. It really wasn't hard to do: I just had to evaluate how well students had understood, used, and cited the critical material in their essays and do a simple tally on an Excel spreadsheet, but I kept forgetting to do it, having to back up, remind myself what I'd read...
I also was hampered a bit in my forward progress by the need to actually comment on essays. I have all that work done, so things should progress more rapidly tomorrow--but I really need a new calculator. (Yes, yes, I know I can use my phone--but it doesn't work as well as an actual calculator does.) The little charge panel on the one I've used for years is apparently fried, won't hold a charge...
One more thing to get at Staples. I had a list of things I wanted to remember to get at Staples. It's with those two missing files and the lost book. (Rowf, growr, bazz-fazz.)
The students today weren't terribly interested in getting into a discussion of the semester, what they learned, what worked, what didn't. A few expressed disappointment that future students in 102 won't be reading The Left Hand of Darkness, but a few clearly stated that they fell apart at the end over that novel.
I come back to it over and over: Every time I think I have come to an understanding of why they find the novel so hard, I find myself returning to "yeah, but ... why is it so hard??" We all agreed that they probably could have managed it better if we'd spent more time on it--and I'm sure they're right, but if I'm going to have conferences (which all but one student felt were extremely helpful), I just don't have time: there aren't enough weeks in the semester.
But as much as I will miss individual students, I did not feel at all sad to say goodbye to those classes, a markedly different reaction to how I felt saying goodbye to the SF class yesterday.
And today I ran into Bruce as he was on his way out to do a workshop on online teaching. I apologized for not being at the party and told him I'd miss him. I know he'll be around a lot; he's going to keep adjuncting for us, bouncing back and forth between his house in Atlanta with his husband and his place out east on the Island. But I'll still miss him--and when he walked out the door, I was close to tears. He has driven me bat shit on occasion, annoyed the hell out of me, not handled things the way I think he ought, but he's been a truly wonderful boss, and we made a good team. I know Cathy will be wonderful in her way, and she and I will work well together too, but ... well, it's Bruce. I'll miss him.
Shifting gears: I had hoped I might be able to have a leisurely morning tomorrow, not set an alarm, that sort of thing--but if I'm going to get all my work done before I'm literally burning the midnight oil, I'd better get up and in at my usual time. (I cannot bring myself to come in earlier, even though it would probably be a good idea.) Even so, I may be here pretty damned late.
But that's tomorrow. Tonight: a quick stop at the grocery store then home and winding down ASAP. We'll see what tomorrow brings tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
The 15-minute post...
I have to be out of here in 15 minutes in order to meet William, Paul and Kristin at our favorite steak place. I've been looking forward to this ever since I set it up, but especially yesterday and today. It will be delightful to spend time with them not in the office.
The final meeting with the SF class was lovely; I'm going to miss working with them. They were a great bunch by the end, and they all were happy about what they learned. Some of them were more talkative in this last session than they'd been all semester--and generally, their feedback was that all the assignments worked. There was some disagreement about which book was the least useful--of course--but when I asked them what I should ditch entirely, not to replace with something else but just to remove, there was no consensus, and ultimately the response was, "Nah. Keep it all."
What was particularly gratifying was that they all agreed about two basic things: the reading notes were valuable, though it took a while to understand what to do with them; and they read differently now, with more detailed attention. One student said there was kind of a down-side to that: he reread some books he used to really like--and doesn't like them any more, as he finds them shallow and badly written. Using my gourmet meal versus fast-food analogy, he agreed: he doesn't like McDonald's any more. (He was joking about it being a down-side, of course; they're all happy that they have a deeper appreciation for literature.) A lot of the feedback was really interesting; one student said he found it easier to take notes and write his essay on the books he didn't like as well--because he didn't get caught up in just enjoying the story. Fair enough.
And across the board, they all felt Paradises Lost was the richest, most rewarding and interesting of all the texts we read. Thank you, Ursula.
I have marked the essays for the SF students who wanted to actually see comments, and--as I planned--I've gotten my hard-copy rosters ready to fill out with the numbers. Interesting to note that students in the SF class were smarter about processing their withdrawals rather than simply disappearing: I guess many students have to feel the ouch of the unofficial withdrawal a few times before they get the message. Some of the students in the 102s are generally good enough that even though they bailed on my class (or for other reasons were unable to complete the semester), I don't want them to take the hit to their GPAs, so I've e-mailed them one last time to remind them to actually process the withdrawal.
I haven't made up my mind yet what I'm going to do about the students who--once again--"forgot" to upload their essays ... but I'll probably let it go, unless they don't take care of it tomorrow. I'm in a generous mood. It's almost Christmas--and I'm too tired to fight much any more.
And that's my 15 minutes. Two workmen are in the office plugging up the huge cracks around the window AC units (which were blasting arctic air on me the other day when it was cold and windy)--and all is Hunk and Dora.
The final meeting with the SF class was lovely; I'm going to miss working with them. They were a great bunch by the end, and they all were happy about what they learned. Some of them were more talkative in this last session than they'd been all semester--and generally, their feedback was that all the assignments worked. There was some disagreement about which book was the least useful--of course--but when I asked them what I should ditch entirely, not to replace with something else but just to remove, there was no consensus, and ultimately the response was, "Nah. Keep it all."
What was particularly gratifying was that they all agreed about two basic things: the reading notes were valuable, though it took a while to understand what to do with them; and they read differently now, with more detailed attention. One student said there was kind of a down-side to that: he reread some books he used to really like--and doesn't like them any more, as he finds them shallow and badly written. Using my gourmet meal versus fast-food analogy, he agreed: he doesn't like McDonald's any more. (He was joking about it being a down-side, of course; they're all happy that they have a deeper appreciation for literature.) A lot of the feedback was really interesting; one student said he found it easier to take notes and write his essay on the books he didn't like as well--because he didn't get caught up in just enjoying the story. Fair enough.
And across the board, they all felt Paradises Lost was the richest, most rewarding and interesting of all the texts we read. Thank you, Ursula.
I have marked the essays for the SF students who wanted to actually see comments, and--as I planned--I've gotten my hard-copy rosters ready to fill out with the numbers. Interesting to note that students in the SF class were smarter about processing their withdrawals rather than simply disappearing: I guess many students have to feel the ouch of the unofficial withdrawal a few times before they get the message. Some of the students in the 102s are generally good enough that even though they bailed on my class (or for other reasons were unable to complete the semester), I don't want them to take the hit to their GPAs, so I've e-mailed them one last time to remind them to actually process the withdrawal.
I haven't made up my mind yet what I'm going to do about the students who--once again--"forgot" to upload their essays ... but I'll probably let it go, unless they don't take care of it tomorrow. I'm in a generous mood. It's almost Christmas--and I'm too tired to fight much any more.
And that's my 15 minutes. Two workmen are in the office plugging up the huge cracks around the window AC units (which were blasting arctic air on me the other day when it was cold and windy)--and all is Hunk and Dora.
Monday, December 19, 2016
Choosing to be cheerful
There is much I could complain about, much I could bewail, much I could allow to frustrate or infuriate me ... but today, at least, I choose to sweep all that aside and focus on what's good.
I just created the tally sheets for my classes, so I can more easily add up the numbers when it's time to crunch final grades. Tomorrow, in addition to providing comments on essays for the students who want them (only a few from the 102s, more from the SF class), I'll write in the column headers on the ridiculous paper forms that we still need to keep. (But I'm not complaining about how completely, utterly stupid it is that we have to keep paper grade rosters.) And then I think all I'll have left to do is the actual crunch of grading.
Of course I'd love to do work on my spring syllabi. I'd love to get some pieces in place for the online version of Nature in Lit--and I've taken the step of starting to get the signatures all over again (embarrassing as it is that I have to do that, but I'm giving up on finding either the book or the folders), though I still haven't constructed anything online.
I keep getting distracted by little bits and orts: reminding the 102 students to upload to Turnitin and changing the settings to re-check some of the essays for the SF class (though I think they're fine, as Turnitin sometimes can't seem to tell the difference between quoting and plagiarizing); reprinting the DEE pages for signatures; making a list for myself of those who have and have not uploaded yet... I know that seems a small list, and not in order, but that's what my mind is doing: it's bouncing around, back and forth, nothing seeming to cohere very well.
And I'm oddly OK with that. I have regained the equilibrium that tells me everything that really, truly needs to get done will, in fact, get done--or it will turn out not to really, truly need to get done. And even some of the things that really, truly need to get done will have very little impact on the state of the world if they don't get done.
I am a great deal more tired than makes any kind of sense, however. I don't quite know what to do with myself at this point--I seem to be staring blankly at the computer screen for rather long stretches between sentences--so I'm going to take that as a sign that I should just stop writing and go home. There will be more to say tomorrow, I'm sure, but for now, I think I'll just let silence have the last word.
I just created the tally sheets for my classes, so I can more easily add up the numbers when it's time to crunch final grades. Tomorrow, in addition to providing comments on essays for the students who want them (only a few from the 102s, more from the SF class), I'll write in the column headers on the ridiculous paper forms that we still need to keep. (But I'm not complaining about how completely, utterly stupid it is that we have to keep paper grade rosters.) And then I think all I'll have left to do is the actual crunch of grading.
Of course I'd love to do work on my spring syllabi. I'd love to get some pieces in place for the online version of Nature in Lit--and I've taken the step of starting to get the signatures all over again (embarrassing as it is that I have to do that, but I'm giving up on finding either the book or the folders), though I still haven't constructed anything online.
I keep getting distracted by little bits and orts: reminding the 102 students to upload to Turnitin and changing the settings to re-check some of the essays for the SF class (though I think they're fine, as Turnitin sometimes can't seem to tell the difference between quoting and plagiarizing); reprinting the DEE pages for signatures; making a list for myself of those who have and have not uploaded yet... I know that seems a small list, and not in order, but that's what my mind is doing: it's bouncing around, back and forth, nothing seeming to cohere very well.
And I'm oddly OK with that. I have regained the equilibrium that tells me everything that really, truly needs to get done will, in fact, get done--or it will turn out not to really, truly need to get done. And even some of the things that really, truly need to get done will have very little impact on the state of the world if they don't get done.
I am a great deal more tired than makes any kind of sense, however. I don't quite know what to do with myself at this point--I seem to be staring blankly at the computer screen for rather long stretches between sentences--so I'm going to take that as a sign that I should just stop writing and go home. There will be more to say tomorrow, I'm sure, but for now, I think I'll just let silence have the last word.
Friday, December 16, 2016
Friday progress
It's almost a running joke in my family (and certainly was with my ex) that I have absolutely no clue how long it takes to do anything. Brush my hair? Half an hour. Climb Mt. Everest? Half an hour. I don't know if this is because I am somehow genetically unable to fully grasp the concept of time or whether I simply can't accurately judge my own capability, either wildly overestimating what I can accomplish or wildly underestimating.
In any event, I thought getting the stuff for Nature in Lit all copied and pulled together to send the reader pages off to Printing and Publications would take maybe an hour, certainly not much longer. Four hours later...
But it's ready to go. Of course, the office is closed down, so it won't actually go to P&P until Monday--and I'm praying like mad that my praise and gifts of cookies will predispose them to pull out all the stops and get the thing done in approximately a month (with time off for holidays). I'm asking a lot. I'm already planning the next gift basket and thank-you card.
And again, I'm throwing a dart at what I think will be an appropriate number of copies to make. I may be over- or under-estimating that as well: I've asked for 25 copies of the Nature in Lit reader, 40 of the reader for 102 (and I still have 16 left from this semester, so I may be way over what I need on those--unless the classes suddenly fill to capacity, as happened this semester).
Once I finished pulling everything together for P&P, I was tempted to head off: it wasn't full dark yet, and it is Friday (and it is, I must note, freezing in here)--but I decided to get just one more thing crossed off the to-do list: I wrote up the observation from last week. I am now finished with P&B business for the semester; we'll see what arises in spring.
So I didn't get to any of the noodling I thought I'd do today: no making up of grading sheets, no fiddling with the online Nature in Lit. I did add several readings to the schedule for Nature in Lit for this spring, however: as I was making copies, I found a few things I had decided I really just had to include. I am leaving out the Robinson Jeffers poems I've taught in the past, which I regret--in fact, I'm not teaching as much poetry in general as I have in the past--but I like the stuff I've included instead.
I do realize that I probably would be well served by reading over the assignments myself, not just to refamiliarize myself with things I haven't taught in a while but also to rethink the essay topics. I had contemplated a return to the mini-paper idea--but I decided against it, purely because of the work-load factor. If I had more time and energy, I'd not only assign the mini-papers, I'd have mandatory conferences for the lit students, just as I will for the 102s.
For this last round of essays for the 102s, since I didn't have much time to do anything and did want to allow students to conference with me if they wanted to, I did do more what Paul does, which is to read the essay and talk to the student at the same time, rather than marking in advance. If I do that with the conferences next semester, I'll have to reconfigure the grading significantly--but I'm going to have to reconfigure some anyway, as I realize I was assigning too many points to the mechanics review (which students didn't really understand or do very well)--and possibly not enough to the reading notes.
Of course, I would love to get a lot of next semester's stuff nailed down by the end of next week, so I don't have to scramble to get it pulled together in January, but realistically, I think I'll be swamped enough in essay grading that I won't have time for anything beyond the present moment. I'm more than a bit startled that so many students from the SF class said they want comments on their essays (and of course I wonder if they're doing it out of a conscious or maybe subconscious desire to brown nose), but that means more work for me. And I still have some old homework hanging around for the 102s. I probably should take it home for the weekend, but I'm just not gonna. Sue me.
For now, I'm going to sort of tidy up the stacks of stuff, pack my wheelie-pack for Monday, water the plants--and worry about anything else tomorrow. Or maybe not even worry about it, just do what I can. I've been here long enough for today, and tomorrow is another day. Funny how that works.
In any event, I thought getting the stuff for Nature in Lit all copied and pulled together to send the reader pages off to Printing and Publications would take maybe an hour, certainly not much longer. Four hours later...
But it's ready to go. Of course, the office is closed down, so it won't actually go to P&P until Monday--and I'm praying like mad that my praise and gifts of cookies will predispose them to pull out all the stops and get the thing done in approximately a month (with time off for holidays). I'm asking a lot. I'm already planning the next gift basket and thank-you card.
And again, I'm throwing a dart at what I think will be an appropriate number of copies to make. I may be over- or under-estimating that as well: I've asked for 25 copies of the Nature in Lit reader, 40 of the reader for 102 (and I still have 16 left from this semester, so I may be way over what I need on those--unless the classes suddenly fill to capacity, as happened this semester).
Once I finished pulling everything together for P&P, I was tempted to head off: it wasn't full dark yet, and it is Friday (and it is, I must note, freezing in here)--but I decided to get just one more thing crossed off the to-do list: I wrote up the observation from last week. I am now finished with P&B business for the semester; we'll see what arises in spring.
So I didn't get to any of the noodling I thought I'd do today: no making up of grading sheets, no fiddling with the online Nature in Lit. I did add several readings to the schedule for Nature in Lit for this spring, however: as I was making copies, I found a few things I had decided I really just had to include. I am leaving out the Robinson Jeffers poems I've taught in the past, which I regret--in fact, I'm not teaching as much poetry in general as I have in the past--but I like the stuff I've included instead.
I do realize that I probably would be well served by reading over the assignments myself, not just to refamiliarize myself with things I haven't taught in a while but also to rethink the essay topics. I had contemplated a return to the mini-paper idea--but I decided against it, purely because of the work-load factor. If I had more time and energy, I'd not only assign the mini-papers, I'd have mandatory conferences for the lit students, just as I will for the 102s.
For this last round of essays for the 102s, since I didn't have much time to do anything and did want to allow students to conference with me if they wanted to, I did do more what Paul does, which is to read the essay and talk to the student at the same time, rather than marking in advance. If I do that with the conferences next semester, I'll have to reconfigure the grading significantly--but I'm going to have to reconfigure some anyway, as I realize I was assigning too many points to the mechanics review (which students didn't really understand or do very well)--and possibly not enough to the reading notes.
Of course, I would love to get a lot of next semester's stuff nailed down by the end of next week, so I don't have to scramble to get it pulled together in January, but realistically, I think I'll be swamped enough in essay grading that I won't have time for anything beyond the present moment. I'm more than a bit startled that so many students from the SF class said they want comments on their essays (and of course I wonder if they're doing it out of a conscious or maybe subconscious desire to brown nose), but that means more work for me. And I still have some old homework hanging around for the 102s. I probably should take it home for the weekend, but I'm just not gonna. Sue me.
For now, I'm going to sort of tidy up the stacks of stuff, pack my wheelie-pack for Monday, water the plants--and worry about anything else tomorrow. Or maybe not even worry about it, just do what I can. I've been here long enough for today, and tomorrow is another day. Funny how that works.
Thursday, December 15, 2016
flopping toward the finish line...
The image that best describes how my progress toward the end of semester feels is that of a seal flopping its way up a beach...
https://youtu.be/nvSz7U7pBQQ
I'm not even sure quite what to report today, my brains are so overloaded. It was a good enough day: meetings with students in the morning; the department party (most of which I missed, though I felt rather bad for missing the tributes to Bruce--not bad enough to go down to brave the party again, but sorta bad); meeting students just long enough to collect final essays and hand out end-of-semester self-evaluations; Advisement (not busy, so I got some work done); meeting more students....
The one downer of the day was realizing that several students plagiarized: one in the SF class (a solid--and honorable--student who probably just didn't really think about what he was doing), and two in the later session of 102. One student from the earlier 102 wasn't in class yesterday and didn't pick up her essay today, nor did she meet with me this morning, as was planned: she clearly didn't understand the book at all, so her essay is a lot of meaningless bilge. I like her personally, but I'm not persuaded that she's really ready to move on to the next level--especially if she gets anyone with high standards for reading and writing ability.
I'm facing the prospect of failing students who have managed to hang on this far, and I dislike doing that. But some of them--like the woman I mention above--simply are not ready to move on.
The meetings with students, on the other hand, are immensely valuable. Every student I met with this week was grasping concepts and understanding feedback at levels far above what was possible at the start of the term. I'm proud of them--even the ones who may not pass.
I also liked talking with two students in the SF class today. I don't know why we got just chatting--I think partly because they were happy to sit in a warm classroom instead of crossing campus in this weather (got very cold very suddenly: we're not acclimated to it). We did get talking about politics, which I had to call a halt to, for my own sanity--not because the students were saying anything all that outrageous (though one of them doesn't know a fact from a conspiracy theory, for all that he wants to become a scientist), but simply because I couldn't summon the energy to make any coherent points and because I truly feel that hiding under the sofa for the foreseeable future is a reasonable plan.
Shifting gears: I'll be back here tomorrow...
Whoa: weird: the light in the other side of the office, which is activated by a motion detector, just turned on--and ain't nobody there nor nothin' moving. I think this room is haunted.
Anyway, back on track now, having shifted gears: I'll come in tomorrow to get all the photocopies pulled together to send off for Printing and Publications to make my class readers for next semester--and then that little nagging burr will be removed. I may noodle around with some other stuff as well (sheets I can use to calculate students' grades, maybe some fussing with the online Nature in Lit)... As long as I get the stuff sent off to be copied, I'll be happy enough; anything else I get done will be a little extra dollop of feeling good about having accomplished something worthwhile.
I feel the urge to stay tonight and keep working, in fact, but I'm going to get my little self home before it's insanely late (again). I meet with students three more times, and I'll be doing final grading next week. Jesus, I can't believe it. There is light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not an oncoming train.
https://youtu.be/nvSz7U7pBQQ
I'm not even sure quite what to report today, my brains are so overloaded. It was a good enough day: meetings with students in the morning; the department party (most of which I missed, though I felt rather bad for missing the tributes to Bruce--not bad enough to go down to brave the party again, but sorta bad); meeting students just long enough to collect final essays and hand out end-of-semester self-evaluations; Advisement (not busy, so I got some work done); meeting more students....
The one downer of the day was realizing that several students plagiarized: one in the SF class (a solid--and honorable--student who probably just didn't really think about what he was doing), and two in the later session of 102. One student from the earlier 102 wasn't in class yesterday and didn't pick up her essay today, nor did she meet with me this morning, as was planned: she clearly didn't understand the book at all, so her essay is a lot of meaningless bilge. I like her personally, but I'm not persuaded that she's really ready to move on to the next level--especially if she gets anyone with high standards for reading and writing ability.
I'm facing the prospect of failing students who have managed to hang on this far, and I dislike doing that. But some of them--like the woman I mention above--simply are not ready to move on.
The meetings with students, on the other hand, are immensely valuable. Every student I met with this week was grasping concepts and understanding feedback at levels far above what was possible at the start of the term. I'm proud of them--even the ones who may not pass.
I also liked talking with two students in the SF class today. I don't know why we got just chatting--I think partly because they were happy to sit in a warm classroom instead of crossing campus in this weather (got very cold very suddenly: we're not acclimated to it). We did get talking about politics, which I had to call a halt to, for my own sanity--not because the students were saying anything all that outrageous (though one of them doesn't know a fact from a conspiracy theory, for all that he wants to become a scientist), but simply because I couldn't summon the energy to make any coherent points and because I truly feel that hiding under the sofa for the foreseeable future is a reasonable plan.
Shifting gears: I'll be back here tomorrow...
Whoa: weird: the light in the other side of the office, which is activated by a motion detector, just turned on--and ain't nobody there nor nothin' moving. I think this room is haunted.
Anyway, back on track now, having shifted gears: I'll come in tomorrow to get all the photocopies pulled together to send off for Printing and Publications to make my class readers for next semester--and then that little nagging burr will be removed. I may noodle around with some other stuff as well (sheets I can use to calculate students' grades, maybe some fussing with the online Nature in Lit)... As long as I get the stuff sent off to be copied, I'll be happy enough; anything else I get done will be a little extra dollop of feeling good about having accomplished something worthwhile.
I feel the urge to stay tonight and keep working, in fact, but I'm going to get my little self home before it's insanely late (again). I meet with students three more times, and I'll be doing final grading next week. Jesus, I can't believe it. There is light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not an oncoming train.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Yeah, it's bad
Never mind the students and essays for the moment. The one thing that's been haunting me all day is a piece of information Cathy brought to P&B from her chairs and area meetings yesterday. It's not fait accompli just yet, but there didn't seem to be a lot of ground from which to fight the decision: the new administration have determined that the college will be best served by creation of a new area, under the aegis of a new dean, the area to be called (I think) "General Studies" and to comprise all the departments that offer any kind of remedial/developmental courses: math, communications, reading and "basic education" (our term for students who really shouldn't have gotten into high school never mind college)--and, yes, English. We would no longer be part of the humanities here on campus--because, of course, the only thing we have to offer that has any value is teaching students how to write well enough for their other courses. This begs the question, if we're not recognized as being among the humanities disciplines, what happens to the literature courses?
The mind reels. This new president and academic VP who we welcomed as signs of hope turn out to be every bit as opposed to the values of education at this institution as their predecessors: the only difference is that they are more skilled at blowing smoke. Paul's been saying it all along, and although I've deferred to his knowledge and experience with them, now I see it clearly for myself.
Oh, yes: and we all have to use the same rubrics for the "institutional learning goals"--across disciplines (even if our way of approaching critical thinking might be different from that of say, math) and across all sections of all courses. Cookie-cutter uniformity: no latitude allowed for the fact that we might get to the same end by different means. Pretty soon they'll be dictating our syllabi to us--and then this really will be 13th grade, as we'll be doing exactly what teachers in the public high schools have to do: teach the same thing, the same way, and meet arbitrary benchmarks for success.
What springs to mind is Arthur Costa's much quoted statement, "What was educationally significant and hard to measure has been replaced by what is educationally insignificant and easy to measure. So now we measure how well we taught what isn't worth learning." (I had to look around for a while to find the original source, but here it is: Strauss, Valerie. "The Important Things Standardized Tests Don't Measure." Washington Post, March 1, 2015.) But the point is that the measurement is all that matters, not what is being measured. If we have the rubrics and we all follow them, everything is grand.
We seem to be utterly, totally fucked.
I remind myself that the future is unknown: we do not know for a fact that this new arrangement will happen; if it does happen, we do not know what that will entail in terms of our work. And if the worst case I can imagine (which is bleak indeed) comes to pass, I don't yet know how I might adapt to make it something I can live with--at least until I can comfortably retire.
But--because Paul and I agree that looking for an exit hatch is sometimes important--I've just spent a little time looking for employment possibilities at colleges and universities out west. Research inconclusive.
So, I focus my attention on the here and now--and here and now (broadly speaking), my only task is to get through the semester. I had hoped to spend some time this evening getting the last bits of homework and revised essays marked for the SF students, but instead I spent time conferencing with students from the 102s (which was great) and responding to e-mails (not so great--but good to have it done). I have a few more conferences tomorrow morning before our "department meeting"--which will actually be the department's holiday party, so I think I'm going to load up a plate with food and come right back up to the office to work. I hate parties anyway (raging introvert that I am) and especially those department parties, at which I almost never get to actually sit with people I enjoy talking with. So I'll do two things that I find beneficial to my overall well-being: I'll avoid the party, and I'll do what I can to have things ready to hand back to the SF students when I collect their essays.
I hope I'm more cheery tomorrow. Even though a number of students did fall apart over the final essay, not submitting it at all, focusing on my students this semester is highly beneficial to my state of mind. A few of the ones who gutted it out clearly didn't read or understand the novel, which is discouraging, but I think I can prop them up well enough for them to stagger over the finish line. And most of the ones who made it this far actually have made real improvements--in their reading, their writing, their thinking. And that's the whole game, folks. That's the point.
The mind reels. This new president and academic VP who we welcomed as signs of hope turn out to be every bit as opposed to the values of education at this institution as their predecessors: the only difference is that they are more skilled at blowing smoke. Paul's been saying it all along, and although I've deferred to his knowledge and experience with them, now I see it clearly for myself.
Oh, yes: and we all have to use the same rubrics for the "institutional learning goals"--across disciplines (even if our way of approaching critical thinking might be different from that of say, math) and across all sections of all courses. Cookie-cutter uniformity: no latitude allowed for the fact that we might get to the same end by different means. Pretty soon they'll be dictating our syllabi to us--and then this really will be 13th grade, as we'll be doing exactly what teachers in the public high schools have to do: teach the same thing, the same way, and meet arbitrary benchmarks for success.
What springs to mind is Arthur Costa's much quoted statement, "What was educationally significant and hard to measure has been replaced by what is educationally insignificant and easy to measure. So now we measure how well we taught what isn't worth learning." (I had to look around for a while to find the original source, but here it is: Strauss, Valerie. "The Important Things Standardized Tests Don't Measure." Washington Post, March 1, 2015.) But the point is that the measurement is all that matters, not what is being measured. If we have the rubrics and we all follow them, everything is grand.
We seem to be utterly, totally fucked.
I remind myself that the future is unknown: we do not know for a fact that this new arrangement will happen; if it does happen, we do not know what that will entail in terms of our work. And if the worst case I can imagine (which is bleak indeed) comes to pass, I don't yet know how I might adapt to make it something I can live with--at least until I can comfortably retire.
But--because Paul and I agree that looking for an exit hatch is sometimes important--I've just spent a little time looking for employment possibilities at colleges and universities out west. Research inconclusive.
So, I focus my attention on the here and now--and here and now (broadly speaking), my only task is to get through the semester. I had hoped to spend some time this evening getting the last bits of homework and revised essays marked for the SF students, but instead I spent time conferencing with students from the 102s (which was great) and responding to e-mails (not so great--but good to have it done). I have a few more conferences tomorrow morning before our "department meeting"--which will actually be the department's holiday party, so I think I'm going to load up a plate with food and come right back up to the office to work. I hate parties anyway (raging introvert that I am) and especially those department parties, at which I almost never get to actually sit with people I enjoy talking with. So I'll do two things that I find beneficial to my overall well-being: I'll avoid the party, and I'll do what I can to have things ready to hand back to the SF students when I collect their essays.
I hope I'm more cheery tomorrow. Even though a number of students did fall apart over the final essay, not submitting it at all, focusing on my students this semester is highly beneficial to my state of mind. A few of the ones who gutted it out clearly didn't read or understand the novel, which is discouraging, but I think I can prop them up well enough for them to stagger over the finish line. And most of the ones who made it this far actually have made real improvements--in their reading, their writing, their thinking. And that's the whole game, folks. That's the point.
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
A non-post post
Some of my near and dear use my blog posts as a way of checking to be sure I'm not in a ditch somewhere or otherwise in a dire situation. The only dire situation I'm in is the need to grade essays. I have no earthly clue what happened to all the time I thought I had today, but I'm going to be here until god knows when getting things marked. So, for tonight, this is as much of a post as I'm going to be able to manage. I'm "upright and ambulatory," as my father would have said, and I think I'm at least reasonably compos mentis ... but now I have to reapply my nose to the proverbial grindstone.
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