Well, hmmm.

Of course, it is already time to play the song that goes, "I thought I'd get more done today." That seems to be on repeat play mode (along with any number of other songs that get far to much repetition). Part of me feels I should set an early alarm and try to get in well before class, so I have at least a partial chance of getting some of the assignments marked for tomorrow's classes, but a much larger (and probably more sensible) part says that sleep is going to be far more important--and I'll be out late tonight (going into the City for a flamenco workshop that will be happening over the next four weeks; yes, I've lost my mind).

But more important to record for today is the fact that I have serious concerns about this 101. I asked the students who had read the extra credit assignment ("Ten Things Every College Professor Hates") to say something to the class about what was in it, or what struck them. Silence. Finally, "What was the question?" I repeated it, and elaborated: did anything surprise you or stand out. Same student: "Did anything surprise me? No." (Oh, good: I'm so glad you're willing to talk about it.) I let the silence ride for a while and then I had to say, "This class runs on your participation. If you don't contribute to the class discussion, this is going to be a very long and very boring semester. Education is not a spectator sport. If you aren't willing to get your hands dirty, you aren't going to get anything out of this experience." Well, then a few more students were willing to share what they had read--including the author/professor's statement that we like students who at least pretend they're interested. Yes! I said. If you hate being here, at least pretend you like it, pretend you're interested. It doesn't hurt you, and it will make me a lot happier, and everyone will find this much more enjoyable.

So, then we went over the "quotation for consideration" (Sumner on critical thinking), and although at first I wasn't going to put them in groups, I decided they would do a lot better that way. One group was refusing to talk, so I went over to them and suggested ways they could get into a conversation--even about what confused them. Other groups were also confused but working hard to make sense of the thing; a couple of students got the ideas pretty well. One student was looking for every possible opportunity to fall asleep. And one has made it manifestly clear that he is not happy being in a class with a strict professor and a lot of work. My snap analysis is that he comes from a wealthier area than many, may have gone to a more prestigious school (possibly even Chaminade, in which case, a couple more red flags will go up about this kid): he's bright and capable--and fiercely resistant to anything that looks like hard work. I'll call him Chip, because of the one on his shoulder. But in a nifty little bit of irony, I cannot tell from the photos on my roster which one he is: there are several Average Middle Class White Boys in the class, all pretty much indistinguishable from their photos. He's one of them, but I haven't yet figured out which one. (When I get the face and name together calling attendance, I'll write "chip" on his photo; that will be one of them identified.)

Shifting gears slightly, but in the "the ship is sinking" department, the list of woes with one of our class buildings and with our book orders continues to grow. Some of the emails regarding the room situations would be funny if they weren't addressing a real problem (like one colleague who said that, even after having successfully removed the bees from the room, he didn't know how many students were able to stop thinking about bees). I'm in a completely different building, but today, all of a sudden, a leak appeared. Fortunately, it didn't drip on any students--and one of them was proactive enough to find a bucket and place it under the leak--but ... well, not a great teaching atmosphere. In addition, one of the cleaning crew apparently thinks she is invisible, as she keeps coming in while I'm teaching, walking up to the front, where I'm standing at the desk, and emptying the trash. Um, no. In the perpetual listing of complaints, colleagues have been pointing out that all of our efforts at retention (mostly having to do with dumbing down the curriculum so students don't get discouraged) will go for naught if they get here and feel they're trying to learn in a pretty squalid environment. The school has "poverty stricken" written all over it, and students aren't going to want to come here when there are other much nicer options available.

I feel very sorry for my colleagues who feel they have no choice but to stay here. I'm sure that eventually things will turn around and the campus will become a much more congenial place--but in the meanwhile, it's deeply disheartening to try to teach in such physically and psychologically miserable conditions.

I have some time before I have to take off, and if I were a stronger, more determined human being, I'd get some of those assignments marked. I may have it in me to put them in alphabetical order (maybe), but in general, I'm too tired to do much of anything at all (hence the decision to sleep rather than get up early to grade). It's the fifth day of the semester, and I'm already exhausted. (Fifty-five more to go!) Oh, yeah: retirement was the right decision. And then some.

Jiffy quick

Paul and I are heading out to dinner in about 35 seconds, so I'm posting fast.

There's a blooper with the P&B email addresses, and yours truly is the recording secretary for this semester. I just sent the minutes to the old group. I need to fix that. (Thought process about becoming recording secretary: "Fuck, I'm leaving anyway, and I'm on virtually no committees. I can do it." Rethinking: "Fuck, I should not have taken this on. I can't find time to do anything..." Rethinking the rethinking: "Ah, whatever. Stop bitching.")

Classes went OK. I wish I had more time to talk about what transpired, especially in the 102. There seems to be a good proportion of bright brains in the class--and two of them said that the handbook is very hard to figure out, badly written, problematic... Interesting. I've never gotten that feedback before. (So, if I teach in the spring, do I hunt for a new handbook? Nah, probably not.) I was hoping that the discussion of the story would take wing a bit more, but one of the best readers/thinkers in the class was obviously holding back in order to essentially force other students to respond. Good for her. Interestingly enough, her daughter is also in the class, and at the end of class she asked that, when the students work in pairs, I could be sure she and her daughter do not work together. Yup, no problem.

In terms of the 101, I realized that they're getting a very slow, easy start--because I need to get the other class in sync with them. But they seem like a relatively bright bunch. They'll do the first substantive readings for Thursday's class. It will be fun to see what they make of them.

And I have the first wodge of homeworks to mark. This will be my fun and frolic tomorrow before class, in Advisement (barring a continuation of the parade of students wanting to change schedules at this late date), and back in the office for a little bit before I head off to my evening events.

I'd say more, but now, I'm going to try to send the minutes to the right P&B body, then race off to join Paul. That roller-coaster is definitely heading up the slope now...

Fun and frolic...

I'm actually only partly kidding. Today was a good day, despite one hiccup.

The hiccup was that the bookstore ordered the right style manual for my 101s but with the wrong thing shrink-wrapped to accompany it. Several students diligently paid full price for the book at our bookstore, only to find they got at least partly the wrong thing (and could have gotten a used copy for significantly less). The back story to this is that the Administration, for reasons that remain mysterious, abruptly decided to switch bookstore vendors from Barnes and Noble--the staff of whom had been here on campus for probably 20 years and who were summarily let go with little notice--to another vendor. That vendor has put a lot of time and energy into glamorizing the building and adding cash registers--but doesn't have our books available for the students, or has made the wrong orders, or made other really annoying blunders that show either incompetence or lack of caring. Cathy's new assistant chair, Sabrina, went to the bookstore to explain the importance of having the books clearly stocked and arranged before the first day. She got some snotty attitude from the bookstore manager, so she briskly pointed out that our students prefer to buy through Amazon anyway, so if the bookstore doesn't make it super easy for them to get their books, the store will lose sales left, right and center.

Which is indeed what will happen in the case of my students. I just sent group emails to both classes saying they don't need to buy through the bookstore: as long as they get the right edition, they can get it from anywhere. And yes, I cc'd the bookstore on that.

My colleagues have also been rightly furious that in this incredible, sweltering heat, one of the buildings has multiple classrooms with broken air conditioners, moldy ceilings, missing and/or broken desks, nonfunctional lights... That is the building where my 102 class will meet starting next Tuesday, so all I can say is, I'm grateful the heat-wave will be over. The rooms may still be uncomfortable, but they won't be unbearable, as they were today. (By the way, when the first faculty member said that not only was the AC in one classroom not cooling anything down, it was making a loud noise that disrupted class, one of the guys who is in charge of fixing that sort of thing wrote to Cathy and said he'd stood out in the hall and the AC wasn't making any noise. This guy is the same asshole who responded to the lack of desks in my classroom a few semesters ago saying there were enough--after he had piled five desks on top of each other in one corner of the room. Well, true: there were 28 desks, but the fact that five of my 28 students couldn't actually sit in one didn't seem to be an issue.)

(And oh, yeah: things like this make me feel like my dad did when he retired: he said, "I always thought it made sense for rats to leave a sinking ship.")

But, far more to the point, the day had some lovely surprises. One came from a student I met in Advisement--and demonstrated to me that my first impressions can, in fact, be wildly wrong. The young man seemed to be a little dim and disengaged, but no: as I talked to him, it turned out he's incredibly intelligent, very focused, knows what he wants to pursue, has high ambitions ... and he was a delight to talk to. I suggested he find me for mentoring; as we talked, when he realized I was encouraging his ambitions, he started to sparkle. Lovely.

And I was pleasantly surprised by the 102 today. Of course, we haven't started talking about the literature yet, but I like the way I set it up. I gave them an article to read--from the New Yorker (https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/books-smell-like-old-people-the-decline-of-teen-reading), and it made a lovely segue into our talking about how they need to approach the reading for the class. They recognized that they will need to focus--and we talked about what it takes to find that focus. One of the two adult students in the class also said that there needs to be a desire to do the reading--even if one isn't interested--which made a lovely segue into the "Statement of Self-Defined Goal" that I'm having them write as a sort of self-evaluation. Nice.

And today's 101 went well, too. A couple of students who seemed a bit on the mousy side were very willing to raise their hands and talk, and there were some great ideas going around the room. Again, they haven't had to engage with any in-depth material yet, but the signs are looking good.

If this holds for the rest of the semester and doesn't flip, as so often is the case, I'll be very happy, even if the other 101 is a dud--because at least I'll finish my work week on a good note. Which is where I am right now. There is more I could do in the way of photocopying and organizing, but I have the right things in the folders for Tuesday's classes, Monday being a holiday, so I can roll in to campus on Tuesday, do my Advisement stint, and get to my classes relatively unruffled--assuming no unforeseen ruffling occurs. Tomorrow, I see the financial adviser; Monday, date with Kristin in the City. Life is good, y'all. Life is good.

Posting fast...

I stored up an hour of time and a big helping of goodwill today and stayed late in Advisement to help deal with the deluge of students who want to change their schedules (usually adding a course that is full or for which there is a pre-req they don't want to fulfill first) ... the usual beginning of semester madness. Students can add/drop through Monday; although classes will not be held because of Rosh Hashanah, campus offices will be open, so the madness will continue through that point. And next week, we'll get students who don't understand that they can drop but can no longer add anything. But to bank a little more time (to cover a doctor's appointment that conflicts with my regular Advisement time)--and a lot more goodwill--I'm going to go in tomorrow for two hours, 10 to 12. That actually covers one of my days out plus a bit. So, that's good.

Today's 101 class was disappointingly flat. I don't know how much was a sort of psychological discouragement because we are in a science lab and how much is a lack of class chemistry, but it didn't feel as OK as the other two. Of course, this is one meeting, and we have a lot more to go, so the whole thing could turn around. I'd think that the C building is hexed, except that's where last semester's miracle SF class was held, so if there is a hex, it's only on sections of comp.

And I can't remember the moniker I gave the student last semester--I'll have to look it up--but he was one of the students who spent a lot of time with me outside of class, and whom I genuinely like. He was in the advisement center today, and made a point of coming over to chat with me. Nice kid. Good to talk to. I look forward to more.

However, it seems Paul and I will rarely see each other this semester; our times in the office just don't overlap much if at all. We've made a date for Tuesday after class--and we'll try to find a time for the four of us--Kristin, William, Paul and me--to get together soon.

But now, I must fly. More tomorrow.

One down, 59 to go...

...but who's counting, right? (That's days, not individual classes--and actually, it's a little less, as I will be away one Thursday to head upstate. But still.)

The most interesting part of today was the fact that there seems to be a lot of confusion about room changes. Both my classes today had students (and in one case a professor) there who needed to be in a different room--or even building--and in both classes, students showed up very late because they had been in the wrong room/building.

But the first day always has something wonky going on. The lines in Advisement were pretty bonkers too: lots of students wanting to change their schedules, many of them wanting to sign up for classes that are already filled. For the next week, our class rosters will be a perpetual shuffle (in fact, I'm surprised I didn't already get updated photo rosters, but maybe 1. new photos haven't gotten into the system yet and 2. no one has withdrawn yet). I won't bother doing the little information/grade index cards that I do until after next Monday; by Tuesday, drops will be possible but no more adds, so that's when things get more set.

Of course, the shifting roster also means making more copies of things, as students who decide to bail early usually take the handouts with them, so the students who take their places need the handouts....

Situation normal.

It is very strange, however, to do these various things--print up the index cards, write my name and the course number on the board, give my little first-day lectures--and know that this may well be the last time I do any of those things, at least here at NCC. I just checked the pay scale for adjunct classes at NCC, and if I am calculating correctly (I have credit for 20 semesters and a doctorate in hand), given the amount I can earn in a year without having to pay back Social Security, teaching even one course would put me over the limit--because my "severance" pay and the "additional payroll" lump sums count as income, of course: this is some of what I learned in HR the other day). Those amounts seem like chicken feed, but then Social Security only allows one to earn a pittance without taking half of it back. I wouldn't mind that so much if that half ended up in what I get paid once I'm 66, but I don't think it works like that.

So, yeah. Last time, unless something wildly unforeseen happens. I don't think I'm going to be adjuncting in Montana, or if I am, it would probably be online, so no writing on the board, no record keeping on index cards.

I don't really have a feel for my classes yet; no real sense of personality. There is one student in the 102 who will be interesting; he may be a great writer, but he wondered if the first essay would be "What I Did on My Summer Vacation," as that's what they did in high school. ("Ah, but you're not in high school any more, are you," I said, cheerfully.) One student in today's 101 seems to have a bit of a chip on her shoulder--but she could end up being lovely. Another student in the 101 told me that he always hated writing until he had to take a workshop on argument essays in high school, and now he loves it and he can't wait for the work of the class. Fantabulous! Have at it, Kid!

Most interesting of all, however, was one student who stayed to talk for a while after class. He is the news editor for the campus newspaper, and I mentioned knowing one of the previous editors: I don't know if you faithful readers will remember the Media Mogul, but I sure do, the punk. I probably shouldn't have gossiped with my new student about it, but turns out the Media Mogul was booted off the campus paper--and, I think, off campus entirely. Something about a camera that belonged to the newspaper that he didn't return (until dire consequences were threatened)...? Apparently there was some sort of law suit, which the business manager of the paper and the paper itself won, and the Media Mogul lost. But I suspect this will be a career trajectory for that putz. He'll "charm" his way into situations, fuck up, get booted, lather rinse repeat. Apparently he also had problems with anger management. And personal finances up the gump stump (bought a drone worth several thousand dollars out of his own pocket because the paper needed it?). I'm reminded of an equine character in Horse Heaven by Jane Smiley: thinks he's too good for anything until he gets the shit kicked out of him by a bunch of mares. I hope the Media Mogul has a similar experience, metaphorically speaking.

And isn't it interested that I am so gratified by hearing bad things about him. I will burn in hell, I swear: I have a vindictive streak that I do not like to acknowledge. I wouldn't personally do a thing to that kid (except talk to him, which would do zero good), but I'm hoping for a comeuppance. He just got up my nose, that one.

Shifting gears radically: I briefly turned into one of those people I hate. Immediately after teaching 102, which, you may recall, is scheduled in the computer labs here in Bradley hall, I went downstairs and asked Lori if she could possibly find a room swap for me. The configuration of those labs just won't allow small groups, and small groups are central to my pedagogy. I was ready for disappointment, but no: a minor miracle has occurred. Our department's IT person knew someone who really wanted a lab, so we're swapping rooms as of next week. I'll be in two different rooms in South Hall (and South is a bit of a pit, plus I hate the changing rooms thing), but I'll be able to do groups the way I want to. And the change goes into effect next week, which works great: I don't really need to do the groups before then. So, hooray for little gifts from the gods.

We'll see what other little gifts appear over the next days, weeks, months. Earlier today, I was feeling too frantic to set up a meeting with Paul (who is on the Island but not on campus today); I just didn't know where anything was in the steaming mounds of papers I have strewn all over creation. Things are more organized now, and I will have a little bit of time tomorrow morning to do more organizing and photocopying. It feels very weird to have Advisement scheduled after my classes instead of before, but the good news about that is, it's an additional morning when I don't have to get up before dawn. This is a blessing. (Oh, and the two hour stints feel shockingly short. I feel like I'm just hitting my stride when it's time to go. I almost missed my departure time today, because I couldn't believe I was finished already.)

So. That's day 1 complete. It will be interesting to see what tomorrow brings.

OK, it's confirmed: I'm an idiot

I've been slogging through all the material for the 102 today, getting things ready to hand out and putting them up on Blackboard. I think I may have it all pulled together, but I won't be surprised to encounter more than one "oops; let me fix that" blunder.

But as for the "I'm and idiot" part: it wasn't until yesterday, I think, that I realized I could have chosen to adjust my classes so both my 101s met on the same day--either Monday/Wednesday or Tuesday/Thursday--instead of having one section on M/W and the other on T/Th. The advantage to having both sections on the same day, of course, is that the assignment schedule doesn't need any adjusting, and given the bumpy start to the semester brought about by the Jewish holidays, it would have been very nice to have them both in lock-step. But because of the way my schedule kept changing--and, honestly, because I was more concerned with making sure the adjunct scheduling was under control--I just didn't think, "Oh, that M/W 101 that I chose as a back-up for the Native American Lit, so I'd have a four-day schedule: that doesn't have to be a 101. I could have my 102 on M/W..." Nope. It was just about the moving target of what was available and what we needed to have covered.

So, well, dammit.

However, that is not the end of the idiocy. It was not until about ten minutes ago that I actually paid attention to the dates for essay submissions in the 102, and, oh, goodie: I am getting essays to grade the day before my birthday. Not final versions, either: the first versions, which always require the most work. Let me say that once again I am counting blessings about the cap on that class--and I hate to admit it, but I am rather hoping there will already have been some attrition by that time in October (which is entirely possible and hardly unprecedented).

But seriously, Prof. TLP: how could you not notice that date--and adjust something, somehow, to avoid that situation?

Still, as I keep reminding myself, it's only sixteen weeks, thirty class meetings, and then it will really be a wrap. What a bizarre thought. I still absolutely do not believe that I won't be teaching at NCC in a sort of Groundhog Day time loop for the rest of forever. But I won't. Weird, weird, weird.

The only thing I didn't get done today--and it really isn't all that urgent--was to do some research so I can formulate essay topics for the final paper for the 102. I will focus primarily on socio-historical context for that one, though I will allow an option that focuses on literary criticism--but the Library website was experiencing a glitch, so I couldn't get on the databases from home. This seems to be happening a lot; I need to check again soon to make sure my 101 students won't encounter the glitch when they have to start research (which will be very soon). But obviously I can't do anything about that today. The librarians are, I hope, taking a much deserved holiday today and not doing anything that looks remotely like work.

As for tomorrow, when it all begins: I'm going to get in as early as I can stand it, so I can pull together the needed handouts for the 102, which will be the first class I meet. Normally, on the first day, I'd have a big chunk of time in which to do that sort of thing, but my Advisement schedule requires that I go in on Tuesday mornings. I'm doing two hours on three days instead of my past practice of three hours on two days. I just couldn't find the three-hour chunks around my classes (not without going in way earlier than I'm willing to do). No cause to fret unduly, however: my class meets in Bradley Hall, as I believe I've mentioned, so getting there is a simple stroll down the hall (to the left on Tuesdays; to the right on Thursdays). So that's copacetic.

And I've written myself into a veritable stupor here. It is definitely time to turn my brain off in any truly functional sense and vegetate as much as I can before bedtime. And tomorrow: clash of cymbals and confetti cannons! The start of a shiny new semester!

Sunday something

Not much of note today, though I did do at least a modicum of work. Life maintenance got in the way, but it was good to feel I have the 101 courses all set up on Blackboard--mostly as a back-up for class handouts (You lost it? It's on Blackboard.) but also for essay submissions to Turnitin. Among other things, having the Turnitin links through Blackboard means I don't have to give everyone a class ID and password. They're enrolled in my class; they're automatically set up to submit papers to Turnitin. Groovy.

And I did replace the quiz handouts that had the very embarrassing misuse of an apostrophe. Clearly, I am getting out of this career none too soon. If I were to stay, I'd get so used to making stupid mistakes I wouldn't even catch them later. (We write what we see.)

But I want to share something a little more personal. Not much, but a little. I believe I have at least mentioned how deeply I have agonized over the decision to retire and how profound the repercussions have been (continue to be) in my psyche. The change in identity goes deeper than I was prepared for, and the prospect of changing just about everything in my life is daunting. Now, I am getting a whole new area of emotional whammy: I sent the email to the English department stating that I am retiring, and I'm getting lovely responses from colleagues, expressing their sadness and dismay--and saying lovely things about my presence as one of sanity and clarity. It is very sweet to know that I am held in such affection by at least some of my colleagues, but it makes me feel a bit of ... what, something like survivor guilt, I think. And knowing I am leaving behind a rather large community of people who cared about my well-being. I felt a lot of that caring when my nephew died in 2013; I feel it again now. I'll miss it.

It is interesting, too, to see who has responded. I know one factor in the responses is simply who is checking NCC email at this point, before the official start of the semester, but I'm also interested to note that there are some responses that surprise me; I wouldn't have thought those particular colleagues cared at all, or cared so deeply.

Being a "dive off the dock head first, don't wade in slowly" type of person, it's very strange to have this long, prolonged good-bye. I'm learning to roll with it, letting it unfold gradually. That's a good life lesson for me in general, so, my thanks to the cosmos for this opportunity to practice moving slowly, taking time.