Trash as a Metaphor

Today, I drove into work. Yes, I know it's Monday and I usually work at home on Mondays. Over the weekend, my computer froze up and slipped into a coma. Since this was the second meltdown in 4 months, I put a DNR order in place. I tried not to freak out, knowing that I'd lost my back-up last week. I took the machine to Best Buy where the Geek Squad recovered my data. My former stalwart companion is now in pieces, its brain in a plastic ziploc bag, and its data on both a DVD and flash drive.

I've ordered a new computer that should arrive by the end of the week. In the meantime, I'm forced to work in my office. It's been a long time since I've worked in an office. A really long time. Like 10 years. It's a strange experience. There are other people around and I can't work in my pajamas all day. There aren't any windows in my office and I'm beginning to feel claustrophobic. I'm not sure I like this. Anyway, I'm working through my lecture and trying to get ready for tomorrow.

I'm also spending the week with Big City friends, so I don't have to do a daily commute. When I left this morning, I hoped that I had everything I'd need to live and work away from home for 4 days. I remembered my students' exams, I remembered my books, I remembered the oh-so-important flash drive, and I remembered to take the trash out. After making 3-4 trips up and down the stairs, I got in the car and headed out.

About 15 minutes down the road, I remembered the trash that was still in my trunk. "Crap," I thought, "How perfect is this? I have lots of trash and I can't get rid of it. I just keep hauling it around, stinking up my life." I'm not sure I've ever managed a more perfect metaphor. I also appreciated the irony of my trash riding in the trunk with my students' exams. I wondered who was winning the stench war in my trunk.

Rather than worrying about computers, being away from home, or any number of other things, I decided to worry about the trash. When I arrived at the parking deck, I noted that there were trash cans with flip lids on each floor, right next to the elevators. While others pulled into the first space they could find, I drove straight to the upper floor. I parked right next to the trash can, popped the trunk, popped the top of the trash can, and secreted my bag of trash into the trash can. Problem solved. I'm hoping that this concrete act translates into metaphor and my luck changes soon.

Train Wreck

Yesterday was one of those days. It was the kind of day that makes you wonder why you ever got out of bed. As far as I can tell, it all started the night before. After driving to and from the Big City to give a make-up exam, I returned home and got a late start on my lecture. For 5 hours, I struggled to pull the material together. I needed to cover antebellum reform and the Mexican-American War. After 5 hours, I decided to jetison the war. There's always the next class.

Turning my attention to antebellum reform, I stubbornly decided to revise my rather dry take on the anti-slavery movement. I decided to talk about African American abolitionists, and not just Frederick Douglass. Trouble is that I didn't have all the material I needed at my fingertips. At 10:30PM, I was still looking for the "perfect quote." I called a friend and babbled incoherently about being disorganized and unprepared. She advised me to call in "overwhelmed." I decided to keep trying to make my lecture work. By 11:30, I decided that life was too short. Exhausted and completely frazzled, I put the mess together as best I could and went to bed, not at all convinced that I was actually going to make it to work the next day.

At 6AM, I got up, determined to face the beast and get through the day. I went over my lecture, made some last minute changes, printed my copy of the powerpoint slides, and headed for the shower. Miracle of miracles, my hair actually looked halfway decent. I foolishly thought my luck was changing.

Before I left, I remembered that I needed to save my lecture to my jump drive. I dug though my purse - no jump drive. I emptied my purse - no jump drive. I repeated the procedure with my bookbag. No jump drive. Fortunately, everything on the drive is on my computer so I didn't "lose" any data. Fortunately, I have a back-up jump drive. I quickly saved my lecture and was out the door, hoping that my lost jump drive was in my last classroom of the day.

All was going relatively well. During the first 45 minutes of my 90-minute commute, I talked through some rough parts of my lecture, ironing out the transitions and explanations. I turned on to the interstate, drove about 5 miles and stopped. Stopped for a long time. Stopped long enough to discover that Big City radio stations have completely given up on traffic reports, especially for post rush hour wrecks on this "lesser" interstate. I sat long enough to discover that I was too exhausted to try to figure out an alternate route into town, and to discover that my cell phone was running out of juice and I didn't have the phone number for Big City University. I tried Information, asked for Big City University by name, and was connected to a phone that just rang and rang and rang. I pictured a lone phone in a soundproof room, sign on the door reads, "Gag phone for Information."

Increasingly exasperated as the minutes ticked by, I called a friend who found the real number for BCU. I successfully passed on the message and cancelled my first class. Then, as always happens, the clouds parted, the angels sang, and we were traveling at normal speeds again. I considered turning around and going home. I really did. In the end, I decided to persevere. Why deny the gods their opportunity to screw up the rest of my day? I arrived at BCU about 10 minutes before my class would have started. But, the die was cast and I was in no mental shape to lecture. I headed to my office to try to regroup. Nothing like feeling totally defeated at 10:50AM.

At the appointed time, I went to my second class which is in the same room as the first. Very reliable students were noticeably absent. I think they saw the cancellation sign on the door and assumed their class was cancelled as well. I decided to go forward when about 2/3 of them showed up.

I put in my jump drive, turned on the projector and launched into my lecture. About 3 slides in, I discovered that the lecture on the screen didn't match the lecture in my notes. Apparently, I'd saved an earlier version of the lecture to the jump drive. I tried to smooth over the problem, and realized that I'd just have to confess to the students that I was disorganized. I tried to make a joke of it: "Usually, it's you all who are surprised by the slides on the screen. Today, it's me. Let's see what's next..."

After class, I quickly got the slides in order and headed to my next class. As far as I can remember, it went smoothly. I don't think there were any major malfunctions in that class. Feeling a bit more confident, I headed to my last class. Got in the room, got my stuff out, and started searching for my lost jump drive. It was nowhere to be found. Fighting panic, I got out my purse to retrieve the back-up. It was also missing. I dug around furiously and it wasn't there. So, back up 2 flights of stairs to my other classroom where I found the damn thing still sticking out of the computer. Mark my words, from now on, I'm emailing my lecture notes to myself. No more jump drives - ever!!

The last class seemed to go smoothly. I made it through my lecture on antebellum reform, including some discussion about the temperance movement. After a long day, I made my way home. In one of my better ironic moments, I cracked open a bottle of red wine and toasted the temperance movement. I then proceeded to get drunk enough to forget the day. At 11:15PM, I headed to bed and passed out.

Today, I'm going to pick up the pieces, finish grading exams, and try to find enough gas to fill up my car.

Getting Dumber

The other day, I read Leonard Pitts's editorial in the local paper. I like Pitts. I can see where others might disagree with his views, but I like his reasoned approach to relevant topics. If nothing else, he makes me think, which isn't such a bad thing.

In this week's editorial, Pitts focused on recent reports from Wasilla, Alaska, claiming that former mayor Sarah Palin once asked the local librarian to remove certain books from the library shelves. Pitts used this report as a springboard to comment on "anti-intellectualism" in the United States. He forcefully argued that whether one agrees with a book or not, it's important to read. He concludes with:

"We are becoming the stupid giant of the planet Earth: richer than Midas, mightier than Thor, dumber than rocks. Which makes us a danger to the planet - and to ourselves. This country cannot continue to prosper and embrace stupidity. The two are fundamentally incompatible." (Leonard Pitts, Athens - Banner Herald, September 22, 2008)

I have to say that I'm on Pitts's side in this debate, though I think the "big stupid giant of planet Earth" may spring forth from different origins. Instead of being born from a complex argument against intellectualism (which seems contradictory), I think the giant is the result of just plain laziness. After grading 170 undergraduate exams, I'm appalled at some of my students' performance. I realize that I'm teaching a required course that isn't at the top of my students' lists, and I realize that not everyone likes history, but that doesn't excuse some of the absolute crap answers that litter the pages of these exams. Some of my students have yet to buy the books for class, much less READ the books for class.

Last week, I explained their paper assignment. It's a 4-5 page paper that requires that they read an entire 250-page book. That's right, the entire book. Gasp. I've given them a 2-month heads-up on this assignment. In other words, they have 2 months to read 250 pages. I feel sure that some will find an online review and/or summary and try to forego the actual reading part of this assignment. Or some will just make shit up from the title, hoping that I won't notice. Something like: "My paper is on Lakota Woman. It's about a woman who is a Lakota Indian. She had superpowers. She could fly and shoot fire from her fingertips. She was a real badass."

Others will read the first 20 pages of the book and try to write their papers. I don't think my students will refuse to read the book because they have formulated a complex critique of intellectualism in this country. I think they're just lazy. Either way, they're contributing to Pitts's "stupid giant of planet Earth."

But, I also know that some will actually read the book. Yesterday, one student actually had the library copy of the book, and had a bookmark to mark her place. The paper isn't due for 2 months and she'd started the book. I almost cried. In another class, I have a perpetual texter. I've called his attention to it, told him to put his phone away, and he persists. One day, when I was lecturing at a snail's pace, he pulled out _The Things They Carried_ by Tim O'Brien and started to read. I didn't say a word. I was so happy that he was reading a real live book.

So, here's to Leonard Pitts for having the guts to remind us that reading isn't obsolete or dead. I will continue, in my little way, to be David to the stupid giant of planet Earth.

Saturday in Late September

It's a beautiful early fall day here in the southland. Check out the blue sky:

I can't take a picture of the low humidity and comfortable temperatures, but trust me, it's a beautiful day. What am I doing on such a gorgeous day? Nice of you to ask. I'm staring at these:

Yep, that's approximately 170 blue book exams. The damn grading fairies have gone on strike, so it looks like I'll have to grade all these exams all by myself. Just looking at them (even in this picture) makes me nauseous and gives me a headache. I've been feeling woozy, headachy, and run down for about a week now and really wish it would go away. I thought it was stress, but now I'm wondering if there I've caught some sort of nasty bug. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the fact that I can't seem to find enough hours in the day to my work and I'm not sleeping or eating very well. Nah, can't be any of those things.

Despite not feeling well, I dragged myself to the grocery store, figuring the only way to solve the eating problem was to, well, eat. I decided I'd make one of my favorite pasta dishes for dinner. It's really tasty and I think I could use a feeling of accomplishment right about now. Things started to look up when I checked out at the store and got this for free:

Almost made up for the staggering nausea. I'm seriously thinking that I need to spend the rest of the day lying here:

Eating these:

And reading this:

Exam Fall-Out

Yesterday, I returned to the classroom for the first time since my students took their exam. Some students were in good spirits and seemed to be relieved to have the exam behind them. These students were in the minority. More of my students fell into one of three categories:

1) Surly McPissed: These students were noticably irritated about something. I can't say for sure if I was the source of their irritation, but they were less than cordial. One of my good students was positively seething in the front row, slamming her computer shut at the end of class and bolting from the room. Others chose to express their displeasure by whispering to their neighbors and scowling. One group of boys were particularly irritated when I neglected to say that they didn't need to copy down a bunch of population figures I'd posted in my powerpoint lecture. One slammed down his pen and looked completely exasperated. I felt like saying, "Dude, I'm saving you some work here. If you'd like, I can make you memorize the population of the top 10 US cities in 1820. Would that make you happier?" Instead of doing this, I called on him, by name. I never underestimate the power of learning students' names. He muttered a half-right answer and paid attention for the rest of class. Message: You can be pissed at me, but don't disrupt the entire class. And I know who you are - and all of your little friends, too.

2) Mr. or Ms. Damage Control: While Surly McPissed shut down for the day, I had other students who positively came to life. Students who'd never said anything in class before contributed wholeheartedly to discussion. And they weren't just blowing smoke. The regular contributors kept swiveling around to see who was stealing their thunder. The New Talkers were joined by a legion of students who are now much more invested in taking good notes in class. I'm slowing to a snail's pace in lecture, but I'm willing to trade pace for attention any day.

3) Absent McMissing: In 3 out of 4 classes, I noticed regular attendees who were noticeably absent. Again, I know the world doesn't revolve around me and my class, but I can't help but think that their absence was related to the exam. Maybe they decided to give themselves the day off. Maybe they couldn't face the class again. Maybe they're suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and are under the care of medical professionals. Who knows? I checked my class rosters and none of them has dropped the class. I guess I'll wait until next week and see if they decide to materialize.

I figure that I'll get students re-acclimated to the class just in time to give the exams back, thus touching off a whole new round of responses.

Teaching

I've been doing a lot of thinking about teaching lately. I've also been doing a lot of being exhausted and generally not feeling well. Perhaps that contributed to my general malaise about teaching.

After grading the first round of papers from my four classes of up to 46 students, I've discovered that my students have a wide range of abilities. For the assignment, they had to take a short primary document written in 1777 and answer 3 questions. The answers to the first 2 questions were in the book. They had to think about the 3rd question. So, this assignment let me evaluate if they'd read, if they understood what they read, and if they could take one step beyond the book to analyze what they read.

I learned that some of my students can write beautifully, presenting a thoughtful and organized set of ideas that not only summarize the material, but offers an interpretation. Others can summarize well but are reluctant to analyze, because analysis requires going beyond what's in the text to offer an informed opinion. Much easier and safer to repeat what's in the book. And, finally, there are the ones who just plain missed the boat. They either completely misinterpreted the document or their writing is so convoluted that it's difficult to know what they're trying to convey.

My job would be a lot easier if students grouped into these categories in each of my classes. In other words, all of the good writers would be in one class, and so on. I know I'm not the first person to say this, but it's challenging to figure out an approach that meets the needs of all students in the room. If I teach to the "A" students, I lose the "C's" and "D's". If I keep the "C's" engaged, they might become "B's", but then I've lost the "A's".

My sense is that I've been lecturing too fast for about a third of my students. Last week, I slowed down in one class and found myself going so slowly that I lost my place several times. The pace also encouraged students to try to write down every word I said, which made things even slower. I lost quite a few "A's" along the way. One fellow even took out a book and started reading, and I didn't blame him.

At that point, I became very discouraged. Here I was, in a college classroom at a major research university, and my students had no idea how to take notes from a lecture. I wondered how many of my students in my other classes required a lecture at that pace. That thought snowballed into, "Holy crap. We're 5 weeks into the semester and it's possible that about half of my students haven't understood a damn thing I've said or done."

I was even more discouraged when a good student approached me after my last lecture. She said, "I don't think you realize how much material you just covered." Again, I thought, "I have to teach all of US History in one semester. If you think that my 45-minute narrowly-focused lectures cover too much material, we're in deep trouble."

I know that I'll have some students who just won't try because they just don't care. There's not much I can do about them. But, I also know that I'll have some students who decided that they hated history in high school. They decided that they'd hate this class before they ever walked in the room. My goal is to try to change their opinions. But, to change their minds, they need to be willing to engage in historical questions, not simply memorization. They need to be willing to work and think, not simply wait for the next spoonful of information. They need to be willing to read. I'm not kidding when I say that more than a few of my students haven't even tried to get the books for this class and seem surprised that I'm actually going to hold them accountable for the assignments in the books.

While I continue to try to work this out, I'm checking out job announcements for permanent positions. I sense that a large part of my frustration is directly related to the fact that I'm only teaching captive audiences - students who are forced to take this very broad survey course and could care less about history. Again, we're 5 weeks in and I'm very tired.

Test Anxiety

I'm not having the time of my life this weekend. I have stacks of student papers to grade, I need to figure out my lecture for next week, I have a badly neglected consulting project to work on, and my students have their first exam on Tuesday. I'd planned for this to be a much better weekend. I only have to prepare one lecture instead of two, the exam was finished last week, and I could use the rest. But, instead, I'm anxious about their exam.

I went through this same agony last semester. I suppose I take an exam as a sign of how well I'm teaching, and I don't want to fail. Last semester, I gave my students a study guide that included a list of key terms (people, places, events) and a list of possible essay questions. I learned that my students drove themselves crazy memorizing details about the key terms, completely ignoring historical significance and connections between the terms. In other words, they missed the point.

This semester, I'm trying a different approach. I've posed key questions at the beginning of my lectures and identified specific review questions in the textbook. I've instructed students to study those questions. I've also advised them to learn the material as if they're learning a story, a story about change over time. I've instructed them to fit significant people, places, and events into these stories and into their questions. I didn't provide a list of key terms. I had them do an exercise in class to demonstrate what I meant.

My confidence in this approach sagged when even my good students asked if they needed to know specific people, places, and events. I'm now convinced that they are constructing stories that sound like: First, there were Native Americans. Then, Europeans came. Eventually, they set up colonies that declared independence from Great Britain. They wrote a constitution and pushed Indians west. The end.

Alternatively, because I've basically said to study everything, my best students are driving themselves crazy trying to learn every single little detail about everything in lecture and in the reading. I've told them that I don't aim to trick them and that if they've been in class, taken good notes, and kept up with the reading, they should do fine on the exam. Because it's the first exam, my good students don't trust me or themselves.

Here's the thing: I'm still trying to figure out how to help students study without telling them what's on the exam. I could tell my good students to just study their class notes and they'll be fine - because they've taken good notes. But, the vast majority of my students simply copy my powerpoint slides, even though I've told them that they need to write down more than what's in front of them. When I do powerpoint, I list important terms (people, events, places), but I don't fill in details on the slide. That's what I do in lecture. So, if all you do is copy the slides, you have a list but nothing else. Too many of my students haven't figured this out, or don't care. I put up a slide and they all start writing furiously, not listening to a damn thing that I'm saying and treating me like a distraction. Then, once they're done copying the slide, they sit and daydream until I change the slide when like Pavolv's dog, they start copying again.

I'll be the first to admit that I've lectured too quickly for 3 of my 4 classes and I plan to slow down. I also plan to blatantly emphasize important points. I'm going to stop short of saying, "You need to write this down." I'm also going to fight the urge to give them a list of key terms. The good students will figure out what's on the exam.

In the meantime, I just have to try to buttress my own confidence that some of my students will pass this first exam. Then, on Thursday, I'll have to manage the post-test reaction. I predict sullen faces and a new wave of anxiety in lecture as students try to write down every single word that I say, forgetting that they have a textbook if they miss something in lecture. Maybe one day, I'll get used to this.

Crow for my Birthday

This morning, I couldn't seem to shake off the residual sleepy feeling from a not-so-restful night's sleep and I had some inexplicable aches. I also knew that I had an entire lecture to write because procrastination got the better of me. Actually, it wasn't procrastination. It was my futile search for something interesting to talk about. After much searching, I knew I'd have to write a rather dry lecture about the Constitutional Convention. In other words, I was not a ray of sunshine when I rolled out of bed on this, my 40th birthday.

After about three hours of work, I donned my yoga clothes and headed to the gym. Before this semester started, I made a promise to myself that no matter how crazy life got, I was going to stick to my gym routine. My favorite yoga instructor cancelled her class last Monday so I was looking forward to this morning's class.

We started with some stretching poses that we usually do later in the class, so that threw me off initally. I could just hear my muscles saying, "Umm, don't you want to warm up a bit before downward facing dog?" My shoulders were most vocal. This instructor is very fond of downward facing dog. She thinks it's restful. During a particularly vigorous class, I agree with her. At the beginning of class, I'm not so fond of my downward facing dog. It's more of a downward facing tired mutt. Anyway, we continued on and my muscles stopped complaining. By the 3rd or 4th dog, my shoulders were actually relaxing and enjoying themselves.

As I twisted myself into various positions, I thought, "To hell with being 40. A year ago, I couldn't do half of these things. A year ago, I was in pain every time I left this class. Now, I can easily keep up and I actually feel good when I leave." As I rested my forehead on my shins in a forward bend, I glanced around and took note of all the people who looked younger than me who were groaning and grimacing as they struggled to reach beyond their knees. Yes, I know, yoga is not a competition. I don't care. I kicked ass, decidedly younger ass.

About 45 minutes into the class, the instructor had us sit in a squat, then put our hands on the floor and raise our hips into the air. I knew where she was going with this. She was getting us ready to go into crow pose. Basically, it's a headstand tripod with your head off the floor. She did this in the very first class that I attended and I failed miserably. I can do a headstand tripod without any problem. I couldn't imagine being able to balance my entire body on my upper arms and hands without my head on the floor. I also couldn't imagine why anyone would want to do that.

Over the past year, I've tried to do a crow many times. I can get one foot off the floor, but can't get the balance right to get the other foot off the floor. I know that I need to lean forward, but I feel like I'll topple forward and smash my face on the floor. This is not something that I want to experience. I also find that I don't enjoy the sensation of my bony knees digging into my flabby upper arms.

Today, I was determined. I got into crow prep with my knees on my upper arms and my head off the floor. I inched my feet together and got one foot off the floor. Then, I heard a voice from above. OK, not above, from the front of the room. The instructor said, "Lengthen and flatten your back." That was all I needed. I did as instructed, leaned forward, lifted my foot, and I was up, perfectly balanced on my hands - for all of 15 seconds. But it was 15 glorious seconds! My knees didn't bother my arms as much because, much to my surprise, I have some muscle tone in my upper arms. Who knew?

As I continued on with the class, I thought about my friend who went rock climbing for her 40th birthday. I respected her determination to try something challenging and overcome her fear. I knew that I wasn't going to go rock climbing, but I did overcome my fear of smashing my face into the floor. And if that's not celebrating turning 40, I don't know what is.

(Images from:http://z.about.com/d/yoga/1/0/r/bigdowndog.jpg and http://z.about.com/d/yoga/1/0/J/crow.jpg Maybe for my next trick, I'll figure out how to take pictures of myself in these poses.)

Good-bye, 39!

Today is my last day to be 39. As of 2AM, or there-bouts, I'll turn 40. How am I spending my last day on this side of the hill? I'm trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do in my classes for the next week. Today's topic: The Constitution & Early Republic. That's 1787 to approximately 1828. My problem isn't too much information, it's too little that I find interesting. Articles of Confederation, blah, blah, blah ... rise of political parties ... blah, blah, blah, federalists vs anti-federalists, blah, blah, blah. Major snoozefest. I'm planning to focus on the 3/5 Compromise and gradual emancipation. When in doubt, stop talking about dead boring white guys.

The first few weeks of the semester have been draining and exhausting. I'm reworking lectures from last semester and had the audacity to hold students accountable for the reading assignments. As of last week (Week 3 of a 16-week semester), about a quarter of them still didn't have the required books for my class. Many whined that "the bookstore didn't have the book." One student claimed that he had looked in every bookstore imaginable. So, I imagined all the possible places for a bookstore. Imagine a bookstore in the sky, he looked there. Imagine a bookstore underground, he looked there. Imagine a bookstore up his ass, he looked there.

After conducting my own investigation in the real bookstore, I discovered that the campus bookstore at Big City University does, in fact, suck. They only ordered enough books for half of my students, and seemed to think that I was unreasonable to expect otherwise. My students could also get their books from 2 other nearby bookstores, but those stores also ran out of books. My students could also get the books online, but very few of them seem to know that you can use the internet to buy more than iTunes and porn.

So, what did my students do? Did they ask their classmates if they could borrow their books? No. Most of them in this predicament threw up their hands and figured that they just couldn't do the assigned reading and paper assignment because they didn't have their own personal copy of the book. Many of them assumed that I'd accept their paper when and if their personal copy of the book ever materialized. No, I said. I explained that they needed to bring me documentation that they had tried to get the book before the paper due date, and I would accept their paper at the next class. Not when their book arrived, at the next class. So far, I'm not impressed with my students' problem-solving abilities.

I explained that the class didn't stop and wait for them. Without access to the book, they were 3 weeks behind in the reading. At that point, some of them turned white and looked like their bowels had just turned to water. Others shrugged ambivalently. I'm no psychic, but I predict that they won't be my best students.

Tomorrow, I get to explain that I'm not going to prepare a study guide that lays out exactly what they need to study for the exam. I've tried the study guide approach before and found that it only encourages students to study history as a set of random names, events, and places that have absolutely no relationship to each other. Even I'd hate history if I had to memorize a bunch of random stuff. So, instead, I'm drawing their attention to the assigned reading in the textbook and my lectures. Reading and lectures that they should have been keeping up with. Reading that I'm sure none of them has even started.

I know what you're asking - aren't these people in college? And, what does any of this have to do with your birthday? Well, I'm giving myself a birthday present. I'm heading off the avalanche of student test anxiety by cancelling class on Thursday. I'll explain to the little darlins that I'm sure that they haven't been keeping up with the reading so I'm giving them extra time to study. When the next exam rolls around, they'll know that they need to keep up or they get what they deserve.

Yes, they're in college, and yes, they should expect to keep up with the reading. Yes, I should just plow ahead and tell them to shut up. Thing is, I don't want to spend my birthday week dealing with a bunch of hostile whiners. This is so much more about me than it is about them. Happy birthday to me!