I have marked a few of the proposals and reading journals for tomorrow's class, and I truly must get them all back tomorrow, and I truly won't have a lot of time tomorrow to do them--but from the moment I got in this morning, I've been having a hard time keeping my eyes open as I grade. I truly have drifted off a few times, in the midst of trying to evaluate a proposal, my eyes slowly closing and my head beginning to nod. This suggests to me that I may not be working at peak capacity (gee, ya think?). So the possible bad idea is my decision not to mark any more tonight but leave all the rest for the morrow. I may find myself scrambling to get them done before class--especially as I know a few students are planning to show up for my office hour (dammit)--but c'est la vie.
I'd take off for home, but I told a student I'd be here until 6:30, so I feel obliged to hang out for a while longer. She's trying to get her proposal revised right now, which is laudable, but I rather wish I hadn't made the offer to be around; that may be another bad idea, but ah well.
In any event, since I'm using the time waiting for her to show up by blogging, let me recall a moment from yesterday. I have the student with learning disabilities in the T/Th 102 class, you may remember. I talked to my sister about that young woman, and my sister's reaction reminded me that compassion is often the greater part of teaching. I sometimes get locked into a "tough love" stance, but in the case of this student, such an attitude is probably less than helpful. So yesterday after class, I talked to her for a bit. She knows she's not going to pass the class, but she wants to turn in work anyway, so she can keep learning. Yesterday, however, she fell asleep in the hall before class and didn't wake up until class was over, even though some of the other students in the class tried to get her to wake up and come in. (As I've said, they're very sweet about her.) And she didn't have her proposal done, because she hadn't been able to figure out how to use the databases. So I told her that she should just finish doing the reading but shouldn't try to do any other work. (I didn't say that marking her work is time I don't want to spend on someone who can't pass, but that's a sad if brutal truth.) And I told her she was welcome to spend time with us in class, as she needs a place to be away from her group living situation.
I also asked her if she'd registered with the Center for Students with Disabilities: my sister had suggested that I take the student over there myself, if she needed encouragement getting registered. Turns out, the student had registered but didn't think CSD could do anything to help her. In fact, they may not have any classroom accommodations that will help her, but I told her that the counselors can help her understand her assignments better, can help her learn how to process complex instructions--and she lit up like Fourth of July fireworks. That's what she needs: someone who can walk her through instructions and feedback so she can see more than one thread at a time. She was thrilled and said she'd definitely see a counselor for next semester. And when I told her she was welcome to join us for discussion of the novel, she was relieved and thrilled: "If I were allowed to hug you," she said, "I would." I told her I'd hug her back, if I were allowed to. It took so little to add some light and warmth to her life, I'm glad I was able to.
I also had a conversation during my office hour with another student from that class: she also has psychological problems that have been getting in her way, but she's hanging in there, which she says she's never been able to do before. She didn't have her proposal done, which should mean failure in the class (according to the big print all over the assignment sheet and elsewhere in my various policy statements), but she's been working so hard to turn the semester around, I didn't want the axe to fall just yet. So I told her she'd have to get me her proposal by the time I arrive on campus tomorrow morning; that way I can mark and return it along with everyone else's, and she can proceed with the rest of the class. She was on the verge of tears when she left the office, just from having her anxieties allayed.
And the very sweet and earnest young man from that class has decided to withdraw--wisely, I think, but he still wants to come to class and get what he can out of it. At first he said that if he didn't finish the term with me, he'd have to drop out of college entirely, as he's paying for it out of his own pocket, but now he's changed his mind and has decided that he can take the class again, and next time, do better. He's smart enough to do fine; his only problem was his sentence-level skills, which were woefully inadequate. He's gotten himself a tutor and is learning to do it right, finally, at long last. I hope he does very well in the spring: he's got all the determination and motivation to succeed.
So even the ones who are flaming out--or close to it--are learning a lot, about themselves and about academia. I find it very moving.
Shifting gears to today: the short story class did a terrific job on Le Guin's "Malheur County" today. They saw a lot going on, and came up with great comments, questions, and connections. They have their proposals due on Monday, and I'm not sure what to do with them once they turn those in. They don't have any reading due, and they've covered all the stories to date just fine. I'd try to get the proposals graded during the class period, but I don't think I can, as there are 11 students left in the class. That's a fraction of what we started with (I think the initial roster was 28 students) but still more than I think I can mark in 75 minutes. I may just let them go, which would be interesting for them and for me.
The 102 will be similar. Today, we spent about 40 minutes finishing up discussion of the novel; then I had them work on revising their proposals, so they could ask questions and so on while I was there. We'll see how many of them manage to get approvals via e-mail, but I suspect that at least a few will need to use the class time to get those approvals finalized. The thesis is the stumbling block for all of them: even the ones who did a great job with everything else fell apart on their theses. Those who have gotten an approved proposal, I'll send off to work on whatever they want. The rest, I'll keep in class until they get the approval. And then Wednesday, we'll discuss the intro to the book plus Le Guin's essay "Is Gender Necessary? (Redux)", and then they're off to the races, so to speak.
I'm trying not to think too much about all the other zillions of things I have to do--but it is helpful if periodically I remind myself of what's still hanging over my head (yes, rather like the sword of Damocles). Over the weekend, I have to grade papers for the short story class, so they can have a shot at revising before the end of the term (and I need to remember to tell them that I'm going to extend that deadline by two days). I need to review letters other P&B members have written to go with promotion applications before Tuesday's meeting. I need to review promotion applications for everyone, not just my mentees--but my mentees have to come first, hopefully before Tuesday's meeting as well. I still have observations to write up. I need to do the preliminary scheduling of adjuncts for spring. I'm working on a little bit of my own scholarship, and I need to keep an eye on that so the deadline doesn't slip past with no submission from me. I also need to chip away at my Chancellor's Award application, whenever I can winkle out a little time and brain space for that. And it seems like I must be forgetting something dire: that doesn't look like nearly enough to drive me insane.
And three weeks from tomorrow, the semester is over. YEEEEE-HAAAAA!!!!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Very fast
I have about 20 minutes to blog and eat my dinner before I go off to dance class tonight. I'm chipping away at proposals: so far, although a few are at least close to having a workable thesis, no one has gotten approved--and I only have one more to do for tomorrow's 102 class. I think that's a new record, and not a happy one. I'm also cranking through reading journals for the short story class, so they can have them as they work on their proposals. It looks like a very early morning for me tomorrow.
I was somewhat relieved today to find that I'm not as woefully far behind on P&B business as I was afraid I was. I'm still doing a piss-poor job at that this semester, but I'm hoping that by next week, I'll be getting caught up. I still have to get a bunch of student work out of my hair first, but one thing at a time.
I'm hoping I have more time to think and write tomorrow. I like reflecting on student interactions, and hope I don't forget the little bits I wanted to make note of. The students are, after all, why I teach, so it's good to learn from what happens between us.
But my dinner just informed me that it is heated up, so off I go. If only I had a witch's broom to ride....
I was somewhat relieved today to find that I'm not as woefully far behind on P&B business as I was afraid I was. I'm still doing a piss-poor job at that this semester, but I'm hoping that by next week, I'll be getting caught up. I still have to get a bunch of student work out of my hair first, but one thing at a time.
I'm hoping I have more time to think and write tomorrow. I like reflecting on student interactions, and hope I don't forget the little bits I wanted to make note of. The students are, after all, why I teach, so it's good to learn from what happens between us.
But my dinner just informed me that it is heated up, so off I go. If only I had a witch's broom to ride....
Monday, November 28, 2011
Back in the saddle again
It's strange how normal it feels to be back at work, buried under mounds of stuff to do. That sounds paradoxical but actually isn't: after my time away, I'd expect to feel a little more disconnected from the patterns here, but it seems they are powerful enough to reassert themselves instantaneously. I was having anxiety attacks on the plane last night, thinking of all I have to do--and it is a ton--but now that I'm back on campus, it's just "Oh, right, this again." All I can do is to keep chipping away at it, doing as much as I can, when I can.
Both classes today went well. The colleague who subbed the short-story class was nice enough to write a little note describing what had happened and saying they are a great class (I agree). They liked her, too, and enjoyed that she tended to say, "I'm hip with that." Apparently they did a fine job of finding the "coming of age" aspects of the Lorrie Moore story they'd read--and they did the same again with the story we read for today, Tess Gallagher's "The Lover of Horses." Many of them seem poised to do their papers on this theme, which is fine by me. I need to warn them that the next few stories are not in that same theme--in fact, I'm not entirely sure what to say about any of them thematically. The Le Guin story they're reading for Wednesday is about a woman and her son-in-law adjusting to their new relationship in the wake of her daughter's/his wife's death and his gradual movement into a new romantic relationship. The other two stories are way out on other limbs, but I assigned them simply because they are interesting. I told the students to read them but pointed out that strictly speaking, they don't need to do their journals on those two: they have 22 journals assigned for 20% of their grade, so I'm counting each journal as 1%. The additional journals get factored into that 20%, essentially functioning as extra credit. Reminding the students of that may have been a mistake (they're unlikely to read if they don't have to journal), but I want them to focus primarily on their proposals and final papers. If the last two stories take a pass, oh well. I will be sorry if they don't read John Crowley's "Gone," which conveys a lovely idea at the end, but again, oh well.
I didn't get feedback from the 102 about their library session, but I forgot to ask: I'll try to remember on Wednesday. Only two of the students wanted time in class to go over their proposals before turning them in: everyone else wanted my feedback, then time in class. Fair enough. We had a pretty good class discussion--and a few of them have already finished the book, which is great. Everyone is supposed to finish it this week, and for once, I think the majority will actually finish as scheduled. I've started marking their proposals, and typically, so far I'm not seeing many with a working or workable thesis. In fact, at least one has a thesis that is actually the exact opposite of what the novel suggests--which does rather make one wonder what the student has been understanding out of what she's read. But they're getting there: I insist on the proposals because I'd rather they have their train-wrecks now instead of derailing utterly at the end, when it's too late to salvage anything.
One of the students from that class dropped by a minute ago to give me the printout of the critical source for her proposal, which she'd not had in class today. She also wanted to talk about her attendance, to see if she's in grade trouble yet. Technically, yes, she is, but I tend to forgive a little for the students who are still hanging on, fighting the good fight, at this end of the term. But the nice thing is that she said she is having her first real college experience: my class made her buy a printer, a laptop computer, a thumb drive--and significantly improve her writing and thinking. She says she will be happy no matter what happens, even if she fails, because she is learning, understanding now more than she ever has what is going to be expected of her as she moves forward. I don't think she was blowing smoke, either: I think she genuinely feels that way. Isn't that lovely?
I am now, however, paralytically tired. My body has no clue what time zone it's in (I've been in three in the past ten days) but it knows it hasn't gotten enough sleep the last three nights, so it's starting to scream at me. I "should" try to burn through some more work tonight, but we all know I start sentences like that to explain all the reasons why I won't. My evening office hour will be over by the time I finish this post, and then I'm off to start the glide toward bed and sleep--early, please heaven, and deep, if not for as long as my body might prefer.
Both classes today went well. The colleague who subbed the short-story class was nice enough to write a little note describing what had happened and saying they are a great class (I agree). They liked her, too, and enjoyed that she tended to say, "I'm hip with that." Apparently they did a fine job of finding the "coming of age" aspects of the Lorrie Moore story they'd read--and they did the same again with the story we read for today, Tess Gallagher's "The Lover of Horses." Many of them seem poised to do their papers on this theme, which is fine by me. I need to warn them that the next few stories are not in that same theme--in fact, I'm not entirely sure what to say about any of them thematically. The Le Guin story they're reading for Wednesday is about a woman and her son-in-law adjusting to their new relationship in the wake of her daughter's/his wife's death and his gradual movement into a new romantic relationship. The other two stories are way out on other limbs, but I assigned them simply because they are interesting. I told the students to read them but pointed out that strictly speaking, they don't need to do their journals on those two: they have 22 journals assigned for 20% of their grade, so I'm counting each journal as 1%. The additional journals get factored into that 20%, essentially functioning as extra credit. Reminding the students of that may have been a mistake (they're unlikely to read if they don't have to journal), but I want them to focus primarily on their proposals and final papers. If the last two stories take a pass, oh well. I will be sorry if they don't read John Crowley's "Gone," which conveys a lovely idea at the end, but again, oh well.
I didn't get feedback from the 102 about their library session, but I forgot to ask: I'll try to remember on Wednesday. Only two of the students wanted time in class to go over their proposals before turning them in: everyone else wanted my feedback, then time in class. Fair enough. We had a pretty good class discussion--and a few of them have already finished the book, which is great. Everyone is supposed to finish it this week, and for once, I think the majority will actually finish as scheduled. I've started marking their proposals, and typically, so far I'm not seeing many with a working or workable thesis. In fact, at least one has a thesis that is actually the exact opposite of what the novel suggests--which does rather make one wonder what the student has been understanding out of what she's read. But they're getting there: I insist on the proposals because I'd rather they have their train-wrecks now instead of derailing utterly at the end, when it's too late to salvage anything.
One of the students from that class dropped by a minute ago to give me the printout of the critical source for her proposal, which she'd not had in class today. She also wanted to talk about her attendance, to see if she's in grade trouble yet. Technically, yes, she is, but I tend to forgive a little for the students who are still hanging on, fighting the good fight, at this end of the term. But the nice thing is that she said she is having her first real college experience: my class made her buy a printer, a laptop computer, a thumb drive--and significantly improve her writing and thinking. She says she will be happy no matter what happens, even if she fails, because she is learning, understanding now more than she ever has what is going to be expected of her as she moves forward. I don't think she was blowing smoke, either: I think she genuinely feels that way. Isn't that lovely?
I am now, however, paralytically tired. My body has no clue what time zone it's in (I've been in three in the past ten days) but it knows it hasn't gotten enough sleep the last three nights, so it's starting to scream at me. I "should" try to burn through some more work tonight, but we all know I start sentences like that to explain all the reasons why I won't. My evening office hour will be over by the time I finish this post, and then I'm off to start the glide toward bed and sleep--early, please heaven, and deep, if not for as long as my body might prefer.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Outta here....
Papers for today's 102 graded: check.
Reading journals for the M/W 102 marked and ready for the sub to return: check.
I had this wild notion that I'd take the journals for the T/Th class with me, mark them on the plane, and express mail them to the sub. They're in my pack right now, but I've regained my sanity: they're coming right back out again. No check.
I'm also leaving the papers for the short story class here. No check.
I am going to take the information about the remaining four observations with me: those I might get done. Then I can print, sign and distribute them once I'm back--unless Bruce's administrative assistant thinks an electronic signature will be good enough, in which case, they might even be done before I get home.
Plants are watered and the mess on the desk is at least put into neat piles. Check.
And with that, I'm outta here. Check and check and check.
Reading journals for the M/W 102 marked and ready for the sub to return: check.
I had this wild notion that I'd take the journals for the T/Th class with me, mark them on the plane, and express mail them to the sub. They're in my pack right now, but I've regained my sanity: they're coming right back out again. No check.
I'm also leaving the papers for the short story class here. No check.
I am going to take the information about the remaining four observations with me: those I might get done. Then I can print, sign and distribute them once I'm back--unless Bruce's administrative assistant thinks an electronic signature will be good enough, in which case, they might even be done before I get home.
Plants are watered and the mess on the desk is at least put into neat piles. Check.
And with that, I'm outta here. Check and check and check.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Ok, so....
...here's the plan. I got a few papers graded tonight, at least enough so finishing them tomorrow is do-able. Even though tomorrow may be hell on wheels, I'm going to stop for the night. I'll get up at 6 again tomorrow, come to the office, and knock off the rest of those papers plus whatever else I can get done. I was going to do some things in the morning to prepare for my trip, but nope: I have to get those papers done. I tried, I really tried to squeeze one more out of myself tonight, but I couldn't even face the better ones. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
This morning, although I hadn't planned to, I polished off the mini-papers and reading journals I'd been carrying around for the short story class; I realized I had to get those out of my hair, knowing that today I'd be collecting their second large essays and two more reading journals, and that the sub will collect another mini-paper and reading journal while I'm away. On top of that, the day I get back, they'll have yet another reading journal to turn in. I may take their papers and journals on the trip with me--I know I said I wouldn't, but I may, on the bizarre off-chance that I'll find a time when everyone around me is working and I feel I might as well get a little work done too. Or to chip away at on the airplane. Or something. If I don't get any of them marked while I'm away, then that pile of work will be ready to spontaneously combust when I'm back--but gawd knows I've been there before.
I also re-collected a batch of reading journals and glossaries from today's 102: students submitted them on Monday, but I didn't have time to mark them, so I let the students use them during class and then took them back. I may carry those with me on the trip, too, following the same line of reasoning--and because, honestly, journals and glossaries are easier and more fun to mark than papers. But if I don't get those done while I'm away, they'll need to be done ASAP on my return, along with the set that the sub will collect.
So, as I said, in the morning, I must finish the papers for tomorrow's 102. If I have time after that and before class, I'll either knock off a few more observations (and I misremembered yesterday: there are four waiting to be written up, not three), or I'll look at promotion applications. The final version of the assistant promotion folders are due the day I return, but my evaluation of them may have to wait until I'm back. One P&B member was pushing for us to get feedback to her next week--even though she, too, will be away--but the applications don't actually have to go over to the college-wide Promotion and Tenure committee until the first week of February, so, much as I understand her desire to give feedback to her mentees, I can only do what I can do. And the applications for associate and full professor aren't due to P&T until March, so those can really wait until I'm back.
I will be collecting reading journals and glossaries from tomorrow's 102 students, too. I won't be able to mark those in Advisement (the sweet days of being able to use time in Advisement to do my own work are over), and I doubt I'll be able to take the time after Advisement to do them (I still have to clean the apartment and pack)--but I won't take those journals with me, because I'll be able to do them after my return, before that class meets again. Of course, the sub will have collected another batch in my absence, but still.
So, here's the list of what I have in hand right now:
papers for tomorrow's 102
papers for short story
two journals for short story
journals and glossaries for M/W 102
four observations to write
six promotion applications for assistant professor that I should look at tomorrow (but probably won't)
eleven promotion applications for associate or full professor (including the two that I'm mentoring)--but those really won't be on my radar at all until I'm back.
The list of things that will be added to the enormous, steaming piles while I'm away:
journals for short story
mini-papers for short story
journals and glossaries for both sections of 102.
And as soon as I get back I'll be collecting another journal from the short story class plus final paper proposals for both sections of 102.
What was that I was saying about getting a breather as soon as this month is over? I should know better than to ever say anything like that. The moments of respite, when they actually materialize, usually are not when I expect them--and are shorter than I think they're going to be. But in terms of those moments of respite, and the forthcoming trip, today's students were very cute: they were wildly curious about whether I was taking a vacation, where I was going--and for no real reason, I decided not to tell them but instead to be mysterious. (It's a control thing. I decide what I will and won't tell them about my personal life--and I can be utterly arbitrary and capricious about it.) But finally they said, "If you're taking a vacation, you deserve it." Very sweet. Of course, they deserve it too--and yet they'll be spending their Thanksgiving break working on their proposals for me, in addition to heaven knows what else for other classes.
I should note, too, that both classes today were good. The short story students did just fine with Richard Wright's "The Man Who Was Almost a Man"--back to the competent readers I expect. We also went over the proposal assignment, so they can be thinking about it while I'm away. As for today's 102, after we spent some time going over the proposals, they opted to sit in a circle, each one asking at least one question--but they also were following up on each other's questions. They're doing fine. I'm very happy with them. And I'm trying to figure out what to do to get the other class to come up to the mark.
Returning to the triage: I'm happy to note that despite the avalanche of work awaiting me on my return (no matter what I get done while I'm away), I was at least smart enough to stagger the proposals: the ones from the short story class come in the week after the proposals for the 102s. And then I should have a week--one week!--when all I have to do is mark reading journals. Then final papers come in and I'll be running around like my hair is on fire.
And then it will be over. As I said to the students in the short story class, this is the time of semester when we've finished clanking the top of the roller-coaster hill: we're at the crest now. From here on, it's hold on to the safety bar with both hands and try not to scream.
Or, well, hell, go ahead and scream.
This morning, although I hadn't planned to, I polished off the mini-papers and reading journals I'd been carrying around for the short story class; I realized I had to get those out of my hair, knowing that today I'd be collecting their second large essays and two more reading journals, and that the sub will collect another mini-paper and reading journal while I'm away. On top of that, the day I get back, they'll have yet another reading journal to turn in. I may take their papers and journals on the trip with me--I know I said I wouldn't, but I may, on the bizarre off-chance that I'll find a time when everyone around me is working and I feel I might as well get a little work done too. Or to chip away at on the airplane. Or something. If I don't get any of them marked while I'm away, then that pile of work will be ready to spontaneously combust when I'm back--but gawd knows I've been there before.
I also re-collected a batch of reading journals and glossaries from today's 102: students submitted them on Monday, but I didn't have time to mark them, so I let the students use them during class and then took them back. I may carry those with me on the trip, too, following the same line of reasoning--and because, honestly, journals and glossaries are easier and more fun to mark than papers. But if I don't get those done while I'm away, they'll need to be done ASAP on my return, along with the set that the sub will collect.
So, as I said, in the morning, I must finish the papers for tomorrow's 102. If I have time after that and before class, I'll either knock off a few more observations (and I misremembered yesterday: there are four waiting to be written up, not three), or I'll look at promotion applications. The final version of the assistant promotion folders are due the day I return, but my evaluation of them may have to wait until I'm back. One P&B member was pushing for us to get feedback to her next week--even though she, too, will be away--but the applications don't actually have to go over to the college-wide Promotion and Tenure committee until the first week of February, so, much as I understand her desire to give feedback to her mentees, I can only do what I can do. And the applications for associate and full professor aren't due to P&T until March, so those can really wait until I'm back.
I will be collecting reading journals and glossaries from tomorrow's 102 students, too. I won't be able to mark those in Advisement (the sweet days of being able to use time in Advisement to do my own work are over), and I doubt I'll be able to take the time after Advisement to do them (I still have to clean the apartment and pack)--but I won't take those journals with me, because I'll be able to do them after my return, before that class meets again. Of course, the sub will have collected another batch in my absence, but still.
So, here's the list of what I have in hand right now:
papers for tomorrow's 102
papers for short story
two journals for short story
journals and glossaries for M/W 102
four observations to write
six promotion applications for assistant professor that I should look at tomorrow (but probably won't)
eleven promotion applications for associate or full professor (including the two that I'm mentoring)--but those really won't be on my radar at all until I'm back.
The list of things that will be added to the enormous, steaming piles while I'm away:
journals for short story
mini-papers for short story
journals and glossaries for both sections of 102.
And as soon as I get back I'll be collecting another journal from the short story class plus final paper proposals for both sections of 102.
What was that I was saying about getting a breather as soon as this month is over? I should know better than to ever say anything like that. The moments of respite, when they actually materialize, usually are not when I expect them--and are shorter than I think they're going to be. But in terms of those moments of respite, and the forthcoming trip, today's students were very cute: they were wildly curious about whether I was taking a vacation, where I was going--and for no real reason, I decided not to tell them but instead to be mysterious. (It's a control thing. I decide what I will and won't tell them about my personal life--and I can be utterly arbitrary and capricious about it.) But finally they said, "If you're taking a vacation, you deserve it." Very sweet. Of course, they deserve it too--and yet they'll be spending their Thanksgiving break working on their proposals for me, in addition to heaven knows what else for other classes.
I should note, too, that both classes today were good. The short story students did just fine with Richard Wright's "The Man Who Was Almost a Man"--back to the competent readers I expect. We also went over the proposal assignment, so they can be thinking about it while I'm away. As for today's 102, after we spent some time going over the proposals, they opted to sit in a circle, each one asking at least one question--but they also were following up on each other's questions. They're doing fine. I'm very happy with them. And I'm trying to figure out what to do to get the other class to come up to the mark.
Returning to the triage: I'm happy to note that despite the avalanche of work awaiting me on my return (no matter what I get done while I'm away), I was at least smart enough to stagger the proposals: the ones from the short story class come in the week after the proposals for the 102s. And then I should have a week--one week!--when all I have to do is mark reading journals. Then final papers come in and I'll be running around like my hair is on fire.
And then it will be over. As I said to the students in the short story class, this is the time of semester when we've finished clanking the top of the roller-coaster hill: we're at the crest now. From here on, it's hold on to the safety bar with both hands and try not to scream.
Or, well, hell, go ahead and scream.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
F-Bomb!
I dropped one in class today. I hesitated for a second (should I? which expletive? Oh, go for it), and then said I was going to "fucking force" them to read and understand the novel. We hardly got a chance to talk about it today: they were freaking out about their proposals and about their reading journals and about everything, resisting resisting resisting. But I was not in a sweet and nurturing mood (the real Dr. P is showing her stripes), so, wham. Right between the eyes.
The reaction was funny to observe. One student had started the class sitting to one side of me (the desks being arranged in a vaguely circle-esque manner); when I got into a more in-depth answer to her questions about the topic, she moved to sit almost directly in front of me. When I dropped the F-bomb, she burst out laughing but got up and moved back to her original chair--out of the line of fire. Most of the students laughed, not without a fair measure of shock; one or two remained sullen and otherwise expressionless. But it certainly got their attention. BYM came to the office after class and mentioned how surprised he'd been (perhaps I shattered an illusion he has about my decorum?)--but he acknowledged my reasons for frustration.
Well, yeah.
I also confronted a student who has been bitching about her reading journals all semester but has yet to come see me for help--which I said to her, again, in front of God and everybody. She started to fight me back about it, but rather than getting into a tussle with her, I said--truthfully--that the problem with the reading journals was not exclusive to her. It was like starting all over again: they were acting as if they had no clue what the purpose of reading journals is, even though they've been doing them all semester long. Since when is simply summarizing sufficient? The purpose of the journals is to explain what matters AND WHY--and if you don't know, ASK. Some of them are still going to be off-base (they're going to think the whole purpose is to ask questions they already know the answers to). And I'm going to go stark staring mad.
William's observation has come true once again: the classes that we start out thinking are the bee's knees fall apart, and the ones we think are borderline duds suddenly catch fire. All semester long I've thought this T/Th 102 was the greatest--and they have been--and now, all of a sudden, they're turning on me, not in the sense of becoming confrontational but in the sense of falling down just when I need them to soar.
I do adore these students, so I'm not as bitter about it as I might be, or as pained, but it does upset me, more than they probably realize. It's particularly difficult to face this kind of struggle now, when I'm running low on patience as well as energy.
And I don't understand it, which is another source of frustration. Why is the other class doing so well with the novel, while the class that has always done so well is coming apart at the seams? What's different? Is it just that the novel is long? Or is the "weirdness" of it sending them into a tizzy? The final paper is just a longer version of what they've already done, but it's the same thing, and they're acting like suddenly I'm asking them to perform a Maori haka--in Maori.
Well, shit. Fuck. Gosh darn it.
I still have all their papers to grade, too, and I absolutely must get those back to them on Thursday. If I can't get anything back to anyone else until after Thanksgiving, so be it, but those papers have to get returned. They've been waiting too long. And I don't want to come back from Thanksgiving to any bigger a pile than I can help. It's going to be big enough as is: just because I'm away doesn't mean work won't still be coming in (the subs are collecting assignments for me). Not to mention the review of promotion folders, which there is absolutely no fucking chance I can accomplish before I go.
I seem to have gotten on a very early schedule, which is actually helpful: I was in bed and asleep by 9:15 last night, awake at 4:30 and up by 5 a.m. Partially as a consequence, I got a fair amount of work done today, despite the back-to-back-to-back events of the day. I did get both sabbatical application letters reviewed by P&B and received some very helpful suggestions, which I have implemented: the revised letters are now in the applicants' folders. I got another observation written up (three more to go). And I did get last week's reading journals back to today's class. So, in the next 48 hours or so, I have to grade those papers for the T/Th class, write up three more observations, and if possible, get mini-papers graded for the short story class and reading journals marked for all three classes. Chances I'll be able to do all of that? Vanishingly remote--but a professor's reach should exceed her grasp, whether there's a heaven or not.
But staying here any later will knock that early routine into the proverbial cocked hat, so I'd best wrap this up and ease on down the road.
The reaction was funny to observe. One student had started the class sitting to one side of me (the desks being arranged in a vaguely circle-esque manner); when I got into a more in-depth answer to her questions about the topic, she moved to sit almost directly in front of me. When I dropped the F-bomb, she burst out laughing but got up and moved back to her original chair--out of the line of fire. Most of the students laughed, not without a fair measure of shock; one or two remained sullen and otherwise expressionless. But it certainly got their attention. BYM came to the office after class and mentioned how surprised he'd been (perhaps I shattered an illusion he has about my decorum?)--but he acknowledged my reasons for frustration.
Well, yeah.
I also confronted a student who has been bitching about her reading journals all semester but has yet to come see me for help--which I said to her, again, in front of God and everybody. She started to fight me back about it, but rather than getting into a tussle with her, I said--truthfully--that the problem with the reading journals was not exclusive to her. It was like starting all over again: they were acting as if they had no clue what the purpose of reading journals is, even though they've been doing them all semester long. Since when is simply summarizing sufficient? The purpose of the journals is to explain what matters AND WHY--and if you don't know, ASK. Some of them are still going to be off-base (they're going to think the whole purpose is to ask questions they already know the answers to). And I'm going to go stark staring mad.
William's observation has come true once again: the classes that we start out thinking are the bee's knees fall apart, and the ones we think are borderline duds suddenly catch fire. All semester long I've thought this T/Th 102 was the greatest--and they have been--and now, all of a sudden, they're turning on me, not in the sense of becoming confrontational but in the sense of falling down just when I need them to soar.
I do adore these students, so I'm not as bitter about it as I might be, or as pained, but it does upset me, more than they probably realize. It's particularly difficult to face this kind of struggle now, when I'm running low on patience as well as energy.
And I don't understand it, which is another source of frustration. Why is the other class doing so well with the novel, while the class that has always done so well is coming apart at the seams? What's different? Is it just that the novel is long? Or is the "weirdness" of it sending them into a tizzy? The final paper is just a longer version of what they've already done, but it's the same thing, and they're acting like suddenly I'm asking them to perform a Maori haka--in Maori.
Well, shit. Fuck. Gosh darn it.
I still have all their papers to grade, too, and I absolutely must get those back to them on Thursday. If I can't get anything back to anyone else until after Thanksgiving, so be it, but those papers have to get returned. They've been waiting too long. And I don't want to come back from Thanksgiving to any bigger a pile than I can help. It's going to be big enough as is: just because I'm away doesn't mean work won't still be coming in (the subs are collecting assignments for me). Not to mention the review of promotion folders, which there is absolutely no fucking chance I can accomplish before I go.
I seem to have gotten on a very early schedule, which is actually helpful: I was in bed and asleep by 9:15 last night, awake at 4:30 and up by 5 a.m. Partially as a consequence, I got a fair amount of work done today, despite the back-to-back-to-back events of the day. I did get both sabbatical application letters reviewed by P&B and received some very helpful suggestions, which I have implemented: the revised letters are now in the applicants' folders. I got another observation written up (three more to go). And I did get last week's reading journals back to today's class. So, in the next 48 hours or so, I have to grade those papers for the T/Th class, write up three more observations, and if possible, get mini-papers graded for the short story class and reading journals marked for all three classes. Chances I'll be able to do all of that? Vanishingly remote--but a professor's reach should exceed her grasp, whether there's a heaven or not.
But staying here any later will knock that early routine into the proverbial cocked hat, so I'd best wrap this up and ease on down the road.
Monday, November 14, 2011
At the dentist
Officially that's where I am. Yesterday I told the Advisement Center that I'd have to see the dentist this afternoon after my observation. As it happened, I got in to see her this morning, early (and I need to see her one more time this week, if we can find a time). But I decided to take the time away from Advisement this afternoon anyway. I got extremely rough drafts of both sabbatical applications letters done--at least enough to get feedback on. And I was intending to try to get 13 papers graded tonight. Not so sure about that. But I'll return to that in a moment.
The short story class completely astounded me today: I'd given them a Le Guin story ("Brothers and Sisters," from Orsinian Tales) that I thought would be a cake walk--and they were completely, utterly baffled by it. I don't know how long it is, but to them it seemed horrifically long--and Mr. Determined said that he kept getting lost and forgetting what he'd already read. Talk about short attention span! I mentioned in an earlier post my awareness that students have little or no experience with sustained attention, and man did that ever get proven to me in spades. I also realized, however, when they were struggling with it, that part of the problem is that they read so fucking literally--and Le Guin tends to write very metaphorically. Her writing is beautiful, utterly goddamned gorgeous, but it is allusive, poetic, and the students in that class don't have the tools to handle it. Yet. I reminded them that we're dealing with a sort of "coming of age" theme, and as soon as we started to talk about it, looking at specific passages, they actually got a lot. I told them, "You just freaked yourselves out. But you can do this; you have the chops." They actually do, once they get the hang of looking at that lyrical language and feeling what it suggests.
Now that they've got a little of a handle on it, I told them they could review the story, to rework their journals if they wanted to, and we'll revisit it on Wednesday--briefly. We also need to discuss another story--and their second big essays are due. They tried to push me into postponing those papers again, but I read them the riot act about it. One student said, "Let's vote" and I said, "This is not a democracy. I rule. I may sometimes allow you to vote on things, but I decide what you can vote on, and you can't vote on this." They were trying to tell me that they won't run into trouble with their final papers if this paper runs up against it, and I told them this is a case where I know more about what they need than they do. They actually kinda loved it that I got so stern with them. Cute.
The 102 was OK. Not a lot of energy in the room, and I'm not sure if they're becoming more baffled or if they're just tired and overwhelmed. We'll see how they do on Wednesday.
And about those papers: I know the students in tomorrow's 102 will be very unhappy if they don't get their papers back, but seriously, I just don't think I can do it. Not enough hours--certainly not enough hours in which I can be even remotely productive. I deeply and profoundly want to call a halt to work entirely right now, early as it is--and I may. But I'm hoping that if I get some food in me (I didn't have time for lunch) and maybe even lie down for a little bit, I can get some work done at home--at least a few observations written up, if not papers graded.
But blogging gets nothing done--except blowing off a little steam (which needs to be blown, or this little pressure-cooker will splatter stuff all over the ceiling). Enough of this now. Off I go.
The short story class completely astounded me today: I'd given them a Le Guin story ("Brothers and Sisters," from Orsinian Tales) that I thought would be a cake walk--and they were completely, utterly baffled by it. I don't know how long it is, but to them it seemed horrifically long--and Mr. Determined said that he kept getting lost and forgetting what he'd already read. Talk about short attention span! I mentioned in an earlier post my awareness that students have little or no experience with sustained attention, and man did that ever get proven to me in spades. I also realized, however, when they were struggling with it, that part of the problem is that they read so fucking literally--and Le Guin tends to write very metaphorically. Her writing is beautiful, utterly goddamned gorgeous, but it is allusive, poetic, and the students in that class don't have the tools to handle it. Yet. I reminded them that we're dealing with a sort of "coming of age" theme, and as soon as we started to talk about it, looking at specific passages, they actually got a lot. I told them, "You just freaked yourselves out. But you can do this; you have the chops." They actually do, once they get the hang of looking at that lyrical language and feeling what it suggests.
Now that they've got a little of a handle on it, I told them they could review the story, to rework their journals if they wanted to, and we'll revisit it on Wednesday--briefly. We also need to discuss another story--and their second big essays are due. They tried to push me into postponing those papers again, but I read them the riot act about it. One student said, "Let's vote" and I said, "This is not a democracy. I rule. I may sometimes allow you to vote on things, but I decide what you can vote on, and you can't vote on this." They were trying to tell me that they won't run into trouble with their final papers if this paper runs up against it, and I told them this is a case where I know more about what they need than they do. They actually kinda loved it that I got so stern with them. Cute.
The 102 was OK. Not a lot of energy in the room, and I'm not sure if they're becoming more baffled or if they're just tired and overwhelmed. We'll see how they do on Wednesday.
And about those papers: I know the students in tomorrow's 102 will be very unhappy if they don't get their papers back, but seriously, I just don't think I can do it. Not enough hours--certainly not enough hours in which I can be even remotely productive. I deeply and profoundly want to call a halt to work entirely right now, early as it is--and I may. But I'm hoping that if I get some food in me (I didn't have time for lunch) and maybe even lie down for a little bit, I can get some work done at home--at least a few observations written up, if not papers graded.
But blogging gets nothing done--except blowing off a little steam (which needs to be blown, or this little pressure-cooker will splatter stuff all over the ceiling). Enough of this now. Off I go.
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