More on Teaching, or, Yes, You Really Do Need to Come to Class

Hmmm. How to begin this post?

The semester is off and running (I'm already in my third week) and it's about that time where bigger assignments are coming due in my courses. Not big-big, but formal, graded assignments. And a few students have either missed class, come late to class, or zoned out during class, and this means that they've missed crucial announcements. And it's got me thinking because I'm wondering whether this is a weakness in my classroom administration or whether it's actually not my problem.

I suppose I should give some background. In all of my courses, I distribute a pretty explicit syllabus (course schedule and course policies). Each class meeting is listed on the schedule, and next to each date is the reading assignment for the day (title of text) as well as any out-of-class assignments that are due. As for the course policies, well, I make it clear that attendance is mandatory. I also make it clear that you've got to have the text for the day with you in class, and all of that other neato stuff that you're supposed to put in your course policies.

I don't, however, include page numbers (if we're covering a text over multiple class meetings) nor do I include what exactly we will do in class (because, well, it changes from year to year, semester to semester, class to class). I also don't have a really hard-core attendance policy where after a certain number of absences your total grade for the course goes down or where you automatically fail (though attendance does affect your participation grade). So it's pretty explicit, but not suffocatingly so. There is room for me to move within the explicit course schedule that I design. And I ALWAYS stay on schedule. Not since my first year on the t-t have I deviated either by removing texts or by changing dates on which assignments are due.

I should also say that I hand out all out-of-class assignments with ample time (usually one week, sometimes more (I hand out all assignments for upper-level classes on the first day), sometimes just less than a week if it's an "ungraded" assignment) for students to get going on them, I give out review sheets if we're to have a test or exam (also within 5-7 days), and I always spend at least a little class time before the first graded assignment in any course going over what they need to do and what my expectations are.

So far, so good, right? And remember, I do emphasize attendance and being on time, and so if students just show up on time and stay awake, students should know exactly what we're doing, right?

But the rub is that because I assume that students attend, and by attendance I mean being on time and being there not only physically but also being there mentally, not everything is written out and set in stone on the syllabus. I don't necessarily say on the syllabus when I will go over the first graded assignment; I don't necessarily say what exactly the reading assignment for the next class is until the class before. In my mind, this allows for flexibility. It means that if we don't get far enough in discussion one day on a text that is stretching over multiple class periods (for example) that I can assign a little less reading for the next class. Or, if we cover a lot in a day, we can go a little farther for the next class period. And while my assignments state the basic requirements for what they need to do, on, say, a paper, I do tend to give supplementary information about my expectations in class, if there is supplementary info to give. I don't state "I'll give out the pages to read for the next class" on the syllabus, nor do I necessarily say "I'll be talking about the test or paper or whatever on this date" on the syllabus. To me, this is what coming to class is about - getting this supplementary info. If you aren't in class, my theory is that you should just do all of the assigned reading (or guesstimate about what we'll be able to cover in a class period) or that you'll go it alone on the assignment, which you've already received. If you miss class before a test, you should assume everything we've covered to that point should be something that you study.

Moreover, if I've got handouts or assignments to give, related to course material, I don't necessarily keep them in my bag throughout the entire semester. Sometimes I clean out my bag, so I don't have everything I've ever handed out with me. It states clearly in my course policies that if you miss class you need to ask somebody else in the class what you missed - not me. If a student misses a handout or an assignment, I expect them to ask me for it when they've found out they missed it from a classmate. And if I don't have it with me, I tell them to email me, and I'll be happy to send it to them as an attachment. In some classes I even post assignments online so that they can just go to the website to retrieve them.

So. I've got these students. They've not attended class, or they've come late, or they've left early, or they fell asleep. To me, they're adults. If they miss stuff, they miss stuff. It's their responsibility to find out what they missed. But at the same time, if they're missing so much stuff, and then they don't turn things in when it says that they are due on the syllabus, why are they taking the class at all? What can they hope to get out of it, and what am I supposed to do to teach them if they're not there to teach?

My thought at this point is that it's not really my problem. I'm very clear - from the first day of class on - about what my expectations are and what their responsibilities and my responsibilities are. But I don't know. What if what I'm describing here is not flexibility but rather lack of organization on my part? My preference would be to maintain in the fashion that I've been going, in part because I hated as a student syllabi that constantly changed, that were so rigid that they could not be followed. And I do think there needs to be wiggle room - not only in syllabi, but also in assignments. So my question for you, readers, is whether you think I'm being unreasonable. And if you do, what would you suggest I do to become more reasonable?

Man-Kitty Having His Afternoon Bath

It's been a while since I've posted a picture of the Glorious Man-Kitty, and as I was on the telephone with Medusa just moments ago (and she may be adopting a doggie! and there's a picture of the doggie on her blog!) the Man-Kitty decided to be very cute indeed, and so I snapped this photograph.

I do believe that this is the first ever picture of his tongue, and he is cleaning his little toes, which I always find to be a very cute thing indeed. You will notice that he is also sitting near (on top of) a shoe-lace. This is his FAVORITE possession, and he will often bring it to me in his little mouth to indicate that he needs to play, or that he needs love, or that he just wants some conversation.

So for all of the Man-Kitty lovers out there, here you go!

I Really Am a Naturally Cheerful Person

You know, apparently all I needed was to write in my journal, whine to my mother, whine to my BFF from grad school, read some Harry Potter, play some Sudoku, and get a good night's sleep and I woke up feeling INFINITELY better this morning. That's not to say that the sources of frustration have disappeared, or that the stress of job-seeking while dealing with those frustrations is any less, but I'm much more philosophical about it all today. I'll just be happy when all of this crap I'm dealing with is over with and things reach some sort of resolution - one way or another.

Dr. Grumpy

There are things I want to post about, but I also don't think it would be wise to do so, as they relate to frustrations with work combined with the stress of job-seeking. So I'm going to whine my tale of woe into my journal. Expect a lot of quizzes and memes in the coming days - unless I can stop being Grumpy Crazy and get back to my usual self.

Some Thoughts about Teaching

Last night, I read this post, and it got me thinking. Manorama writes about her teaching experience and the choices that she makes for evaluating students. This is a follow-up post to some that she'd written at the end of last semester about the time it takes her to evaluate students for participation. Now, I responded to those posts, as did some others, but I think that she felt like those who responding weren't acknowledging her authority to make decisions about pedagogy in her classes, even though I'll at least say for my part that I didn't think I was doing that at all but rather that I thought I was giving advice that might be of use and trying to be supportive.

Anyway, in her most recent post, Manorama writes about why she chooses to invest as much in evaluating participation as she does. It's an interesting post, and worth checking out. That said, it's kind of long, and so my post here is really only responding to one line of argument that has been on my mind since I read the post last night.

Manorama writes,

"Coming up with a way to run a class where so many concerns are addressed is difficult, and it takes a special amount of effort to teach in a way that is consistent with my values as a scholar. That is, I will not sacrifice careful attention to history and literary criticism. I will not sacrifice the student leadership over the class because the critical thinking process I want them to practice requires them to be active leaders and discussants, not passive minds who aren't thinking, talking, listening, and writing in response to the text and to others. [. . .] If this is the kind of class I design, you can imagine why I would find it dishonest and unfair to pretend that I remember who "participated" and who didn't."

In this passage (if you want to see the entire paragraph please head on over to her post), the argument seems to be an ethical one, i.e., that those who do not take an approach to participation that details each and every student contribution sacrifice rigor in their courses and that they fail to give students ownership over the class - they fail to be "learner-centered" to use the jargon of the day. Moreover, those who do not demonstrate value through this kind of approach to grading may be accused of dishonesty and lack of fairness in their courses. One's choices become evidence of one's values, and, it is implied, that those who make different choices do not share Manorama's scholarly values.

This argument doesn't really work for me. First, I'm not sure that every single composition or literature course needs to or benefits from emphasizing history and literary criticism, even if one values those things. At least in my experience, with the kind of students whom I teach, I have found that all classes can't necessarily do that work in a way that is effective. Moreover, I think that there is something of value in emphasizing in my lower level courses students' own reading practices and translating those into solid writing. Now, I do not teach at a research university, and many of my students come into my courses having very limited backgrounds with academic analysis, reading, and writing. I usually have at least one student a semester who claims never to have read an entire book. What that means is that I need to lay a kind of foundation for my students in lower level courses that I did not have to lay at my grad institution. This does not mean that I don't value literary critical and historical context, but it does mean that I know that I get multiple bites at the apple. If a student has me in one class, it's not terribly unlikely that I'll never see that student again. In fact, it is often quite likely that I will have a student whom I've had for freshmen writing at least once if not twice or three times more before they graduate. Thus, I think that what I value as a scholar in that regard does have a link to what goes on in my classes, but I think that I think about it in a way that is incremental, and this means that it does not evidence itself in obvious ways in every one of my classes. Does that mean I don't "really" value those things? How do we judge that sort of thing? (I'll come back to this later in the post, as I'm not just asking for rhetorical effect.)

I also have difficulty with the argument that evaluating all aspects of what students do in a class in a very detailed way teaches students to approach their education as active rather than passive. To me, if they're only actively discussing for a grade, that is passive. It's not self-motivated, no matter how much they talk or how much work they do on their own. At the same time, I know that if one doesn't demonstrate as an instructor that one values active discussion, etc., that it won't necessarily happen in the classroom. I think that my approach to this is somewhat different from Manorama's because I work very hard to disrupt the active learning stuff from grades because of what I see as a contradiction between one and the other. If I am grading and reacting everything, I'm asserting my authority over every single thing that they do. I'm not saying that this is how it works in every person's classroom, mind you, but it is how it works in mine. The minute that I get out the red (or green, or purple, or whatever) pen, I'm judging, and if I attach a letter grade to something, students begin aiming for the grade instead of engaging with the material on its own. That has as much to do with my style as anything, and so I suppose that this is the point for me: there isn't a one-size-fits-all model to this stuff. The compromise that I make is that yes, students receive various kinds of grades for participation at the end of the course, but much of that grade comes from adequate completion of discrete tasks. Example: my students in upper level courses have to post on a discussion board once a week. If you do the required number of posts, you get an A. Now, I participate in the discussion and lead it, but I don't give a grade for the quality of the posts. This means that students can make of this discussion what they will, and I think this is valuable. You might say, "but it's not giving credit to those who do very well on this task in the class," but what they do on the task without fail translates into how they do on more conventionally graded assignments, so to me, this does teach them to actively engage and it does value active engagement while at the same time it gives them the responsibilty for using the assignment in such a way that it is meaningful. I police them only to the extent that I pay attention to who is posting and who isn't, and otherwise my role is pretty hands off - I just discuss along with them. Now, my authority is not entirely dispersed - they know I'm reading these posts - but it also is not absolute in the way that it would be were I grading them for quality on such an assignment. This is just one example, but I tend to like to incorporate similar kinds of assignments into all of my classes in some fashion or another because I think it gives students confidence to play with ideas without fear of negative consequences, which I think goes a long way toward inspiring active engagement.

Manorama later in her post continues:

"This is because if we really believe that writing is a process, that classroom interactions and involvement in an "academic community" is important, that "participation" means something other than giving us something to do each day so we can get paid, and that collegiality and professionalism are key resources for anyone doing literary study, then showing students that we value those processes and are assessing them is very, very important. Showing them that what they think and what they say is valuable, not just in the "finished product" but throughout the process, is important.
[. . .]
In the end, it just might come down to what we value, and how we show that we value it. Most of us, I assume, value our students' contributions and intellectual work throughout their intellectual journey in the class. How do we show that we value it?"

Now, this is a lot to which to respond, especially since I was one of the people who commented originally that I tend to be much looser in my approach to evaluating participation in my courses. But I think the reason that Manorama's post has been on my mind is that it goes back to some of the things that I've been thinking about how to measure "value" related to blogging and to service. I'm not sure if I agree that the way to demonstrate what we value is (only) through grading, just as I'm not sure that the only things that I do that have value are those that get listed on the cv or that count toward tenure. To me, the value in a liberal arts education is precisely that these objective measures don't capture all of what we value, and I think there is utility in challenging those objective measures even as we work within systems that require them. I guess what I'm playing with - both in relation to my work as a professor generally and in the classroom - is trying to break from equating value with things that "count" in traditional ways. I'm not sure if this is sensible (or if it's even possible) but that is something that's really interesting to me, and I think that it's something that's useful to consider.

The Queen - Meh

Sure, Helen Mirren is great in the film, and the editing was excellent, but it really felt like a made-for-tv movie or something. Prince Charles only looked like Prince Charles when his back was to the camera, and I'm sorry, but Prince Philip is infinitely hotter and cooler than James Cromwell. And Diana is really the most sparkling presence on the screen. Which I suppose was always the problem for the real queen, so this is, perhaps, ok.

Anyway, see it for Helen Mirren, but yeah, it's not all that. (That said, I've been thinking about it since I left the theater, so maybe it's better than I think it is?)

Why Is Dr. Crazy Pro-Choice?

I'm going to be totally lame on this Blogging for Choice day and direct you all to my post from last year. My answer for why I'm pro-choice is still the same.

(And yes, I know that this is totally lame, and I wish I had it in me to do a real post, but I'm just too swamped with other writing tasks. And, really, I like my post from last year, so why not dust it off and use it again?)

I Shouldn't Have Napped This Afternoon

But it was cold and snowy and I was in my bed with my kitty cat and a book, and well, things happen. And so I KNOW I need to go to sleep, but I'm not at all tired.

Things accomplished this weekend, aside from napping:

1) Continued work on talk, and somehow it still needs to be edited down. (I practiced for the first time all the way through, with the kitchen timer, tonight. I hate that I'm the sort who is a "good reader." I blame all of those readings I did in church from ages 7 through 13. Damn my natural inclination to read performatively! Why can't I just speed through like everybody else, dammit! I mean, I actually get SLOWER when I've got to give a talk in front of people - because I get all actressy about it - which means I've got to continue cutting the shit out of this thing. That said, I'm not altogether unhappy with the way it's all going.)

2) I read (well, who am I kidding, skimmed) some articles that I needed to read.

3) I watched the final 2/3 of a movie I'm showing in one of my classes and made worksheets for the students to complete.

4) I straightened up and vaccuumed in the living room.

5) I finally unpacked my suitcase from MLA. Yes, that's the kind of person I am.

6) I read 200 pgs in a novel that I'm teaching.

7) I did some thinking/prep for various classroom situations that I've got on the horizon.

8) I made plans to go see The Queen.

9) I spent quality time playing with and loving the Man-Kitty.

10) I talked to a bunch of people on the phone to whom I needed to talk.

All in all, a pretty good weekend, if not a particularly social one. I wish that there would be freezing rain over night so school would be cancelled, but the fact that I wish that makes me feel like kind of a brat and/or like a weird antisocial person. But don't think I won't be checking the university website as soon as I wake up in a kind of hope against hope sort of a way.

Business Idea

There are so many crazy parts of my conversation that I just had with my parents, including my mother's rationale for why a dickie is better than a scarf when your neck is cold in the house ("You can't cook with a scarf or you might catch yourself on fire"), my mother's play-by-play of The Real World: Denver ("Stepdad was flipping and left it on this channel. This girl on here is a hussy. And why does she paint her eyebrows on? And - ooh! - she just said 'F-you' to that boy! I saw that! Now they're both crying! Are you watching this?"), my mother's confusion about people who wear too much foundation ("Remember that girl you lived with in college? Did she ever take her makeup off or did she just layer it on more and more every day? Do people really think that looks good? It's like those painted on eyebrows. Who tells them that this looks normal?") and I can't even remember what else.

But the pièce de résistance was this "business idea" proposed by my stepfather. I had just finished telling him that I had worked out a pet sitter for an upcoming trip. He then launched into the following (and I'm trying to reproduce his accent here, so do your best to imagine this with a fairly thick Middle-Eastern accent):

Crazy's Stepdad (CS): You know, there should be a business where you can send your animals to your parents if you go out of town.
Dr. Crazy: What?
CS: You know. There a lot of people like you, and they have animals, and they live far away from their families. Some people go to Europe for like two weeks, and they don't want to give somebody a key to their house or trust them to take care of their dog, their cat. So the business would be you could ship your animal to your parent, your sister... It's better than having somebody you don't know take care of your animal.
Dr. Crazy: But - What? (laughing)
CS: Why you laughing? This is good idea! It could be a division of UPS!
Dr. Crazy: But how long would it take to ship them?
CS: Overnight! A cat wouldn't die if it was overnight - it would be fine!
Dr. Crazy: How much would it cost?
CS: By weight! Just like when you mail any package!
Dr. Crazy: That's insane! Have you given this a lot of thought? (laughing like a hyena)
CS: Always thinking of ways to make a dollar.... But it's a good idea! There are a lot of people like you who live in states not near their family, and they want their animals to stay with family not to have strangers take care of them! You ask your friends! They'll tell you!
Dr. Crazy: (laughing so hard she can't speak)
CS: It's a good idea! I'm going to spend $250 to register it!

(I have no idea whether that is how much a patent or copyright or trademark or whatever costs, but yes, this is how the conversation ended.)

I love my parents.

On Writing

I remember the first time I really felt like I was learning how to write was my first year of college. Obviously I'd written before then, and I was always a talented writer, but I don't recall ever having felt like somebody was teaching me how to write - teaching me a process for writing - until my first year of college.

Before that, sure, I do remember being told how to write - how an essay was supposed to be structured, how a particular assignment should look - but I don't remember anybody giving me the tools to do those things. This isn't to say I wasn't given them - it may well be that I just wasn't ready to accept what I was being taught about process at that point. (Incidentally, I think one of the most important things I've learned as a teacher of writing is that some students are just not yet ready to internalize the stuff about process in their first semester of college, and this doesn't necessarily have a thing in the world to do with innate intelligence or preparedness or anything else - it's about maturity - and so again, I'm not dissing my high school teachers or anything for not teaching me a process for writing - I really think I just wasn't ready. I also think that sometimes it is naturally talented writers who most resist being given instruction about process because they've never needed to articulate their process to themselves before because they're just "good" at writing.)

So why am I thinking about learning to write and process on this sunshiney Saturday afternoon? Well, obviously, with teaching writing one often thinks about such things. But I'm also thinking about it because I'm trying to turn a 25-page article into a 16-18 page talk, and so I'm thinking a lot about my own writing process and my own strengths and weaknesses as a writer.

Weaknesses:
1) I can tend to be wordy. I know: this shocks you.
2) Sometimes, while a structure makes perfect sense to me, it can seem... "baroque"... to a reader. (That adjective is courtesy of my dissertation advisor.)
3) I can be too absolute about my interpretations.

Strengths:
1) I'm a confident writer, and I generally don't get blocked.
2) I'm completely willing to scrap pages and pages, and I do not fall in love with words or sentences that I write. Even whole paragraphs I'm totally happy to chop out of an essay if necessary, and I don't give it a second thought.
3) I have a strong voice (I think) that comes through even in formal academic prose.

Current problems:
1) How to maintain the shape of my argument and the nuances of my analysis while still chopping out pages of material? (Incidentally, I'm down to 19 now, so really I'd be fine if I just cut out 1-2 pages more.)
2) How to anticipate questions about this project when I'm not even sure I believe what I'm arguing in it. (This is a pitfall related to Strength #2 - I fear I don't really have much conviction about my literary critical claims.)
3) How artfully to direct an audience to a handout for longer quotations; how artfully to integrate read quotations in a way that isn't terribly clunky. (My personal belief is that there is no artful way to do either of these things, but a girl can dream.)

What I wish is that all writing were like blog writing, where I don't edit, where I don't anticipate responses, and where I don't feel pressure. I hate pressure. Pressure sucks. And it makes me procrastinate. So far this morning I have not even glanced at the talk I'm preparing, but rather I scheduled an appointment with a prospective pet-sitter, I talked to my mom on the phone, I played on my computer, and I invented and baked a casserole. And now I'm blogging about what I need to do with my talk I'm revising instead of working on the actual revisions.

But now I'm going to go try my casserole, and if it's any good I will post the recipe, since again, I invented it. I am very creative when I'm not getting things done, you know.

And So the Semester Is Underway

I know I've been a bad blogger of late. It's not that there hasn't been anything to write about (there has) but all of my writing mojo has gone toward other things, and so I've been doing more blog reading than blog writing as a result. (I point to this as evidence that blog writing is, at least in my case, deeply linked to any other kind of writing that I do, even if I am an academic who blogs vs. being an academic blogger or whatever way we're marking that distinction these days. Maybe I'm not writing a literary critical or theoretical blog, but the blog surely keeps me in a writing groove in a way that no other kind of less formal writing has, and so when I have to direct my attention to the formal stuff, the blog suffers.)

Anyway, though, this isn't a post about my stupid blog - I want it to be a post, rather, about my sense of what this semester is going to be like. I'm two weeks in already, I've graded one set of papers in my writing class, I've graded one set of quizzes from my lower-level lit course, and I've seen some online discussion responses from my upper-level lit students. In other words, I think I'm at a point where I can project how things are going to go and where I want to go from here with these classes.

First things first: at least at this point, I think I'm pretty lucky with the writing class. Sure, some of them are terrible writers, but at least so far, the class discussions have tended to be quite dynamic, and they seem to be really engaged with what I'm doing with them, or at least willing to put up with what I'm making them do. I've tried to make more of an effort to put each thing I'm asking of them into context with my broader goals for the course, and I think that doing that jedi mind trick stuff seems to be having a positive effect. Now, there is one girl with a sour expression who has NEVER been on time, and I think she may become a problem if she doesn't get it together. I've called her out on the tardiness thing - I start on time, so you've got to be there on time, etc. - and what she said last class was "at least it was only five minutes this time." That kind of response totally does not bode well. I've also got a couple of the kind in there who like to tell you even though you don't know them yet about all of their woes and troubles - but I think I've headed them off at the pass. And then I had another who commented on my age in the "you're not old enough to be a professor" way. I suppose I'll miss that when I start looking old enough to be a professor, but at this point it still really pisses me off. I'm not exactly the Doogie Howser of the professorial track, you know. But, in spite of the above, I'm actually feeling pretty ok about the writing class. I think that I will manage through the end of the semester, at any rate.

The class I'm most excited about is the upper-level class. The initial drop/add period is done, and it looks like I've only lost 2 of those originally enrolled, which is pretty awesome, given the amount of reading and work I expect in my classes. So far they seem to be a really good and engaged group, although they do seem to want me to spoon-feed background to them and to tell them what a text "means" more than I'd like. I'm hoping that this is alleviated once they start giving their presentations. I'm also going to have to start arranging them in a circle for discussion, and luckily I've got a room that will accommodate this. Another reason that I want to do the circle thing is that in contrast to last semester, when I had the Class of Women, this class is pretty evenly divided between male and female students, and the male students tend to be quite dynamic. One problem that I know I have is that I respond to dynamic, and so unless I'm careful, I will let those three or four students dominate the discussion and it will become a really bogus class. (I think the issue is that I myself was a dynamic participator and so I don't really understand the non-dynamic kind of student. Nevertheless, because I understand the dynamic participators, I also know that they can be a bunch of blowhards who don't really have substantive stuff to contribute, and so I know that as a teacher, however much I might like to listen to them (and myself) talk, I've got to open the discussion up to the quieter ones in the bunch and to make sure that the women don't get shut out of the conversation.) At any rate though, I'm wicked excited about this class, and I really do have high hopes for it.

Finally, in a weird twist, the class I'm most concerned about and potentially least excited about is the one that is usually my favorite course to teach. It's big - which is part of the issue but it's no bigger than usual, really, just I don't know as many students from previous classes so it feels bigger - and there were some late adds - another part of the issue - and well, they all seem really tired. I mean, I open the semester with some pretty shocking stuff, and normally students have a lot to say (which is the point of opening with that kind of thing). These ones just looked at me like their sensibilities were offended and like I was a lunatic. I toned things down last class, and they all looked at me like they were zombies or on drugs or something. They did better when I had them do group work and then we reconvened, so we'll be doing more of that, but that's not a solution to this problem. I've got to do something to get the whole class more engaged. I think one thing that may be catching me up is that I don't have as many "frequent flyers" in the class as I usually do, and with the number of students in there I'm having a hard time learning names. (I always feel like it's easier to control a class dynamic once I know who the students are.) I don't know. They all just seem really passive. Like they are less interested in talking about the content of what we've read than they are in doing discrete tasks like scanning lines of poetry. (We start with poetry, and yes, I still teach how to scan a line.) Also, for the first time ever, I've had to tell that class to take notes. Usually in my classes, students take notes furiously. Without my telling them to. I don't know. I suppose I'm feeling a bit unsure of what will happen with this group. And it sucks because usually this course is one that I don't need to think too much about.

Then there is the Quasi-Admin gig I'm doing, and that hasn't really gotten off the ground for the semester, though I suppose it will in the coming weeks.

So anyway, that's all of what I've been doing/thinking about instead of writing on the blog. Ok, now to get myself in gear and go teach.

If I'm Doing This to Myself Now....

Edited to Add (11:40 AM): Ok, so after my little tantrum this morning I graded all my papers, and I taught what I think was actually a really awesome class. Go figure.

I'm up at this bright and early hour because even at this early juncture in the semester I have put off grading until the last possible moment. Now, this isn't "real" grading - it's a short assignment - the first one that they've completed - but I feel obligated to return it today (in less than one week's time) because their second assignment is due on Friday.

Now, in theory I really believe in evaluating student work early and often, so that students get a sense of one's expectations right up front, so that students can track their progress, so that I can try to minimize the tendency to grade-grub. (I find the more assignments or "opportunities to succeed" I offer, the less bitching I hear at the end of the day, which I suppose is a time-saver ultimately, right?)

The problem here, though, is that in practice I. Am. Sick. Of. Grading.

I know, cry you a river, etc. And how can I be sick of grading in week two of the semester, and right after a long weekend?

It's composition. I am burnt the fuck out on teaching it, I resent teaching it, I barely like my students anymore, and my "pedagogy" if you can call it that in these courses is just to try to plan as much crap to pass the time quickly as possible, as neither I nor the students want to be there. (You may be surprised to note that on evals. my highest score is often on the one that evaluates my "passion for teaching" and that the most frequent written comment I get from students is "you can tell she really loves teaching." Yes, even in my comp. classes. I'm thinking that if this whole professor gig doesn't work out that I should probably try my hand at becoming an international film star.)

Part of what I'm trying to do is to strategize for the possibility that I will not ultimately get another job offer that will lessen my composition load, and to come up with a convincing argument for those who control my teaching schedule to give me a bit of a break from comp - to teach just one section of it in the fall and no sections of it next spring - but I'm not sure whether even the persuasive me can effect such a change.

And this semester, because I sold my soul to the administrative devil, I'm actually only teaching half of the comp students I normally would - 22 instead of 44 (yep, that's right folks - normal load is 44 every semester, in addition to two lit classes, and that's if they don't exceed the 22 enrollment cap. And students never drop my classes anymore, which is very frustrating indeed. I should note that the NCTE recommends that the cap should be something like 16 in comp classes). Since I need to get out of the clutches of the administrative devil at the end of this academic year in order to remain a sane and lovable and not-evil person, that means that if I can't pull some sort of rabbit out of a hat, I'm actually going to be teaching more composition and not less.

But so now I've got to go and read 44 pages of student writing that I don't want to read and to comment on it enthusiastically as if I care about what they've written and care about their ability to become better writers, even though I don't believe that I can make them into better writers. It is mentally and emotionally exhausting, and I hate it.

(By the way, this is a venting post, so please take it as such.)

Both of My Classes Were Cancelled Today

• I learned of this fact after arriving on campus.
• I was completely prepared for both of them.
• I had spent two hours last night working on a sample presentation/handout for one of them, which meant that I had to miss the Golden Globes Red Carpet coverage.
• I rushed around in order to get here on time this morning, in spite of the fact that it's cold and I would have very much liked to stay in bed.

Some Interim Thoughts on the Golden Globes

I don't have much of interest to note, I suppose, but here are some things that have been going through my head as I watch The Golden Globes:

• I don't get the whole "hair as headband" thing sported in opposite and yet equally horrifying ways by Vanessa Williams and Sienna Miller. Williams' version is "here's my real hair that is straight, and I shall add a wig as a kind of afro hat on the back of my head." This version (to my unschooled eye) was only slightly more effective than the Sienna Miller "I shall wrap a fake braid around my head as a band to hold back my otherwise gym-ready up-do."
  
• Is Ben Stiller beginning to remind anybody else of Danny Bonaduce? What with the tiny compact gym-body that he has chosen to turn a bizarre orange color? Put a Bonaduce-red wig on him, and I'm telling you: they could be twins.
  
• And speaking of looking like people one wouldn't necessarily choose to resemble, I don't think the break-up is treating Cameron Diaz well. With the unflattering red lipstick (and I'm usually a fan of the red lip), the brown hair, and the wedding-cake of a dress, all that came to mind was "Miss Havisham."
• Anybody else notice that nobody wears the "AIDS awareness" red ribbons anymore? Or the pink breast cancer ones? Or any of the other ribbons of the rainbow for whatever good causes they were supposed to signify? I suppose it's just not fashionable.
  
• I hate Brad and Angelina.

More later, perhaps.

Productivity Is in the Eye of the Beholder

Ok, so last night I did finish the Great Closet Excavation, and I did go to the grocery store today, and I did make a big pot of chili, but many other items on my to-do list remain un-checked-off. The problems, as I see them, are the following:

1) I know that a great many of these items didn't really need to be completed, which is never a recipe for actually completing items on the to-do list.
2) Given the fact that I've got a 3-day weekend, I've overestimated the amount that can reasonably be accomplished in that extra day.
3) It's been very bleak weather. I haven't seen the sun in days.
4) I've been angst-y about a number of things, all of which are beyond my control.
5) I had to go shopping!

So let me tell you about my shopping trip. Now, I hadn't originally intended to go shopping today. I was going to go during the week. But then with the horrible dementor-breeding-weather, which won't let up for at least a few days, I thought I didn't really feel like major highway driving to one of the larger mall-like establishments to which I'd have needed to drive. So then I thought, hey! I can go to Department Store Downtown, but if I'm going to do that, then I really should do it today as I can park for free. So off I went.

Items purchased:
Classic black pant-suit $70
A little less classic black-with-some-detailing suit with skirt but I can wear the jacket with pants from #1 suit $69
A pair of excellent black Naturalizer loafers $50

All in all, I think I was quite the bargain-hunter, and I am very, very pleased with my purchases. And, just fyi to readers, if you think you might like a new suit or two, now is definitely the time to go - many great suits on sale! For very cheap! At a Department Store near you!

But now I'm feeling a bit like I probably should have tackled at least one or two items on the to-do list. Ah well, tomorrow is another day, right?

What a Girl Wants, What a Girl Needs

Ok, I know I'm evil for putting that Christina Aguilera song in your head, but in trying to think of a title for this post, it came to mind and made me giggle, so I kind of apologize but not really. ANYWAY, after my earlier post, I then talked to a friend on the phone, and then to another friend, and then I cleaned my kitchen (except for mopping the floor, which I will do tomorrow) including cleaning the coffee pot with vinegar, so real cleaning, not just superficial sort of cleaning, and then I embarked on the mammoth task that is Cleaning My Room.

Let me just admit it for the record that I can be a real slob. Not in an "I live in filth" sort of way - I always have a clean toilet and I do the dishes and all of the heavy cleaning sorts of things - but in terms of not putting my things away properly, yes, I am guilty. I have been this sort of a slob for my entire life. I was kept after school in elementary school for the Crime of the Messy Desk (a Crime of which I'm still guilty); since the time that I have been responsible for keeping my room clean, it has been, more frequently than not, a disaster. The problem is that rather than keeping up with straightening up, I really have no problem with throwing things willy nilly - until of course I do have a problem with the willy nilly craziness, and then I'm overwhelmed.

But also, I think part of the problem is that I find keeping every single thing in its place, well, boring. I mean, I'd much rather be doing other things.

I remember being like seven years old and being banished to my room to "clean." And I did keep at it for what seemed like quite a long time. But then I found my collection of books with records, and I decided that it would be wise to bust out my little record player and listen along/read all of them. And then I was tired and so I thought I'd just take a little rest. My mom was none too pleased when she came in to check on my progress after a long while ("You were too quiet") and found me asleep in the middle of what looked like a bigger mess than when I started.

Well, I've still got the same basic character that I had when I was seven years old. I am persistent in many other areas of my life, but I am not persistent when it comes to major straightening types of tasks. I am very, very easily distracted. And so, I began cleaning out my closet (which I've needed to do for approximately 3 months) and now the closet is mostly emptied of its wares, but I thought, do you know what? I think I'll just take a teeny break. And so I sat down to the computer, and now I'm writing about cleaning instead of just cleaning. Because I have no will-power. Cleaning is BORING. And I really don't CARE about being messy (except for when I can't find things, which is why I started this project in the first place).

The problem is, I MUST go back to the project, as if I don't, I will just end up piling everything up when it's time for bed, and then I'll be right back where I started.

I wish I were the sort of slob who was filthy and yet neat, for then I could solve my slobbiness by hiring a cleaning lady. The problem is, a cleaning lady can't do the sort of cleaning that I most need a cleaning lady to do. Oh, and I know, you'll say, but Crazy, if you hired a cleaning lady to do the heavy cleaning it would force you to keep your messiness under control. Don't think I haven't considered that, but to be honest, I think I would just do what I did when I was a kid, and shove everything in the closet or under the bed or in a box in the spare room in order to make things presentable for the cleaning lady. And then I'd not get the satisfaction of cleaning my own damned toilet.

It's really a no-win situation.

On Dealing with Change

I should note, that nothing has actually changed yet, nor am I certain of which direction any future changes might take, but nonetheless, I've been doing the thing that I do when the prospect of change appears on the horizon. This thing is known as crossing bridges before one comes to them, putting carts before horses, counting chickens before hatching, etc.

Now, many might argue that such is not a healthy practice. In fact, in the past I've been inclined to beat myself up for this tendency, believing that I should instead strive for a state of zen-like calm in which I let the road rise up to meet me, take it one day at a time, or roll with the punches as they land, or some such.

But at this particular moment, I'm inclined not to beat myself up. While I think it's true that one shouldn't obsess over a future that one cannot control, and that it makes sense not to get too caught up in tryin to anticipate what might happen in that uncontrollable future, I also think that some of this is maybe not a bad thing. Maybe some of this forecasting is really about trying to feel comfortable with things that are really damned scary. Maybe I'm not worrying or obsessing but rather just trying to get my head around the fact that my life in one year's time may not be identical to what it is right now, what it's been for the past three or so years. And maybe, just maybe, I'd better spend some time trying to get used to potential outcomes, because when whatever change is coming comes, it's going to come wicked fast, and I'm not going to have a lot of time to ruminate (yes, even if that change is just a change in my life here).

Change sucks. Change is hard. I don't like change. So part of my process is making it seem like a change isn't really something that happens to me but a decision that I prepare for and make. So what may look like obsessing is really just me settling into a level of comfortableness (although maybe it is a teeny bit obsessive).

It is also procrastination, because ruminating takes much time and energy, and so it's very difficult to do things like laundry or grading when one has to focus one's attention on gazing into the crystal ball.

A Conversation with the Man-Kitty

Dr. Crazy arrives home from a tough day of teaching.


Dr. C: Hello, Man-Kitty, and how are you today?
M-K: Oh, I'm quite well. I wasn't feeling so well earlier - be careful that you don't step on that hairball by the bathroom door.
Dr. C: Oh! You really weren't feeling well! Thank you for warning me about the mess, though. And of course I'll be happy to clean it up!

Dr. Crazy cleans up hair ball. Wow, cats are kind of gross, aren't they? As Dr. Crazy then makes her way toward the kitchen, she notices that something is awry.

Dr. C: Man-Kitty! Why are the phone and answering machine on the floor? And, hey, the answering machine power cord is disconnected! What goes on here when I'm not home?
M-K: Well. You're really going to laugh when you hear this. See, I was having a snack to.. um... cleanse my palate after my unfortunate sickness of the morning, when the phone rang. I thought that I should try to answer the call, thinking that since the phone doesn't normally ring during the day that it may be an emergency, and I might be able to help.
Dr. C: Man-Kitty, you don't actually speak English.
M-K: Maybe not to you.
Dr. C: Look, I just cleaned up your sick, so be nice. So you tried to answer the phone?
M-K: Oh yes.
Dr. C: How did that work out for you?
M-K: See, this is where the story gets funny. I hadn't fully realized how difficult it would be to try to hold a phone between my paws (you know, those little tufts of hair that come out of them really make for slippery handling) with the receiver to my ear. And so upon attempting to get the phone, I lost my balance, and began to fall off the ledge on which the phone and the machine are placed. I tried to hang on - really, I did, - at which point all - me, the phone, and the machine - came crashing down.
Dr. C: So did you see who called on the caller ID?
M-K: I'm a cat. I don't read English. Duh.

Luckily, the Mystery Caller did ultimately get into contact with Dr. Crazy. With some really fucking fantastic news that Dr. Crazy can't really discuss on the internet.

Service

In a couple of posts now, I've talked about certain activities, which to this point are not on the cv, as "real" service, or as what service "should feel like." Prefer Not to Say noted this recurring theme, and asked me to say more about this Platonic Ideal of Service that seems to be rattling around in my head, and after thinking about it a bit, I figured this topic warrants its own post.

Now, I should say that I've been aware of service as part of the Big Three on which we are evaluated since I was an undergraduate, and in even in graduate school I did a couple of service-y things to enhance my cv. So it's not like I was surprised by the service aspect of the job when I started on the tenure-track. "Service" is ultimately what keeps universities running, and I'm committed to doing my part with that aspect of the job. I think that it is both unrealistic and irresponsible to act as if the "service" part of the Triumverate of Activities is insignificant and that I could be a "professor" if I focused all of my energy on teaching and research.

That said, "service" is the part of my job about which I am most ambivalent, which provides the fewest personal rewards, and which my colleagues (both at my university and elsewhere) recognize the least. That said, during the academic year, "service" takes up HUGE quantities of time, and given that this is the case, shouldn't it be a bit more rewarding? Shouldn't one receive just a teeny bit more recognition?

Now, I received good advice before embarking on my first tenure-track job, and so I was very careful about the service that I agreed to take on, at least initially. I understood the value (or lack thereof) that service would have in how I was assessed, and so I did try to maintain my primary focus on teaching and research. That said, institutional culture can erode even the best of intentions. In my department, and at my university, the service expectation for individual faculty members is quite high, particularly for those who do not have tenure. In my department, there are a number of faculty (mostly with tenure, some without) who engage in the bare minimum of service-related tasks, and everybody looks the other way (though I suppose they don't get the highest merit raises). But not everyone (tenured or untenured) has that luxury. Somebody has to do the heavy lifting - not everyone can opt out.

I'm now a little more than halfway to tenure, and in going on the market this year, I acknowledged for the first time just how much "service" I've done (am doing), and I've realized that I couldn't care less about most of it. And it occurs to me that if that is how I feel, then I'm probably not particularly effective in the work that I do related to those activities. But the thing that I've learned is that it's not really possible to take one or more of those activities off my plate. And yes, one can vow to "say no" to future "opportunities" that come one's way (but is something really an "opportunity" if one thinks it's bullshit?), but whatever vows one makes, one can be bullied (or flattered) into changing that "no" to a "yes," so making vows really doesn't fix the problem.

The problem is institutional, and one person doesn't have much power to resist the overwhelming expectations of an institution. If one cares about one's work and one's department, one says yes when one should probably say no, at least sometimes. And if one wants to be seen as collegial and a team-player, one says yes with a smile on her face.

I think it's that hypocrisy that is the problem. On the one hand, we're supposed to say yes with a smile on our faces, because isn't "serving" something that indicates personal volition? But I don't feel like what I'm doing is voluntary. I feel like a lot of it is coerced. And then I do a crappy job, and then I feel bad about doing a crappy job, but then if I didn't do a crappy job there really isn't anybody who would do a better job, so isn't a crappy job better than nothing at all?

It's not that I feel this way about every single service activity I do. There is some service (even on my cv) that does matter to me. But the percentage of service that does matter to me is probably 10%. The rest just feels like a burden. And so then I feel like I should definitely not take on any other "service-like" projects, but then this reading group falls into my lap, and here I am, saying yes again. Except for that I'm actually excited about leading the reading group, and I want to do this service. So of course I'm going to do it, right? But in the end, it is going to go on the cv in exactly the same section as serving on Useless Committee #472, which just sucks to me.

I think another issue is that at my institution, while service is simultaneously compulsory and unrewarded, some kinds of service are privileged over others. The kinds of service that I care most about - service to my profession, service to my department, service to students - are lower on the totem pole than service to, say, the community or the university. Service to students doesn't really exist because somebody had the bright idea to put advising under teaching in terms of how it's evaluated. What this means to somebody like me is that I can't just do service that I care about because other people don't care about it. At the end of the day, it all just makes me feel disgruntled and unappreciated.

To me, there should be some sort of a system in place in which people can play to their strengths in service - just as they do in teaching and in research. And so when I talk about my idealized vision of what service might mean, that's what I'm talking about: activities that do good while at the same time providing both tangible and intangible rewards to those who serve. I imagine a time (and this might only be imaginary) in which that's what service felt like in this profession, which is how it got the name "service" instead of "administrative duties."

I'm not saying that I expect to love every service activity that I do, but shouldn't the ratio be reversed - 10% bullshit work that just needs to get done and 90% stuff I'm good at and care about? And shouldn't all kinds of service be equally valued?

But that's not the world in which I live. I think it is a world that exists at other institutions - or at least I think that something closer to that exists at other institutions. So for now, I've got three possible options: 1) keep doing everything and hating it (not really an option); 2) get another job (not an option entirely within my control); 3) the moment I get tenure, quit everything I don't care about and then add back in activities always keeping in mind my personal commitment to them (the only option that I really have total control over implementing).

You know, I don't want to be departmental dead weight, but I am sick of lugging around other people's dead weight on my back.

Leading a Reading Group

Ok, so I've mentioned in an off-hand sort of way that I might be leading a reading group for students interested in reading Notoriously Difficult Novel. (I don't want them to find this via googling, if they're looking for insights on NDN, so let's just say that NDN is a remake of The Odyssey.) It looks like this reading group is, indeed, going to happen. And I wondered whether I should blog about this experience, but I've decided I should in part so that I can call on all of you who've either run or participated in reading groups for any expertise you might be able to offer. But also, I think I want to write about this because I'm so proud that it's even happening at all.

I teach at a regional university in an urban area. The majority of the students who attend this university are in the first generation in their family to attend college. The majority of these students live at home with their families, work at least 20-25 hours per week, and many work as many as 50-60 hours per week, while maintaining outrageously high (think 15 hours or 18 hours, doing all of one's classes back to back either on MWF or on T/H) course loads. Many of these students, regardless of age, also have family responsibilities, whether those include caring for siblings and/or ailing parents (many people in this region have large families, so it's not uncommon for my students to be one of 5-8 children, and if they're on the older end of things, that often means that they have responsibilities related to their younger siblings' care) or caring for children of their own.

You can imagine what this means for "campus life" at the university. There really isn't much. Nor is there much intellectual curiosity or deep drive to brown-nose, as there might be at, say, a liberal arts college, and so something like a "reading group" as far as I'm aware is an entirely foreign concept to most of them. And I've got to say, the idea of a "reading group" would have been foreign to me as an undergraduate, too - my own background, while not quite as complicated as the backgrounds of many of my students, was such that I, too, worked a lot during college, took ridiculously high course loads, and didn't really do much intellectual work outside of the classes that I took during a given semester. Then, in graduate school, while I heard of people organizing reading groups, I never participated. I'm kind of a "lone reader" by nature - hate the idea of being responsible to a group for my reading, and hate the idea of having to read what others are reading whether I'm in the mood for it or not.

So yeah. I don't know what made me suggest a reading group last semester, because the likelihood of students wanting to do it had to be pretty small, and I don't know crap about how to run a reading group or how to be in one because I have always shunned them on principle. But they do want to do it. A LOT of them want to do it. And so now I've got to do this thing, right? And while I'm excited about it, I'm also a bit... unsure of myself. One thing is that I don't want to be "the teacher" of this book. I'm happy to help them through the book (which I think is a good thing) but I don't want to be all Dr. Crazy Lecture-y. One reason why doing this with NDN appeals to me is that I really like the idea of giving them more ownership over this text - and if this goes well, I would consider doing one of these every year - maybe even opening it up to just regular people who aren't students at my university? While I think there's value in teaching NDN in a traditional classroom setting, I just really don't know whether it's really necessary for many students to experience it in that setting - especially if they don't plan on growing up to be literary critics. If they're going to grow up and work in HR or something, really I think they just need the experience of reading the book - not of writing on it and laboring over it as I expect students in my classes to do. So I guess as I'm considering this, part of what I want to ensure is that I allow for them not to labor even though they will have to do work to interpret the text, if that makes any sense.

So anyway, we're having our first meeting next week. And I'm actually almost giddy with excitement, even though this will mean a bit more work for me and even though it's yet another time commitment. But you know what? This feels like real service to me. I'm doing this because I want to - not because a colleague begged me to do it or because it was insinuated that it would "look good" for me to do it, or because it fills in a "gap" in my service section of my cv. No, this is entirely altruistic. I haven't even told most of my colleagues about it (which I know I should, and I will get around to that, but I don't know, it's been nice not shouting about it). So anyway, I'll post periodically about how the thing goes. But for now, if you've been in a reading group or if you've run one (esp. with undergraduates) maybe you could share any tips that you have about making the thing run smoothly?

Tonight's Post-Dream Activities (RBoC)

• I gave advice to a lurking reader about how to word a wedding announcement.
• I wrote a letter to my dean requesting money for an international conference.
• I drank some wine (NOT part of Phase 1 of the South Beach Diet, to which I am supposedly adhering,)
• I considered possible interpretations for The Dream.
• I added some people to the blogroll (check it out).
• I corresponded with the person who asked the question that prompted this post. First of all, let me say how bad I feel for calling out a person who actually does get it (the blogging thing) and who had the courage to ask a question at a really big panel at the MLA (something I've not myself done). Second, let me say how happy I am that this person emailed me, and that we're now part of the same conversation.
• I talked on the phone to one of my BFFs.
  
• I considered the next batch of publishers to whom to send my book proposal (have been rejected by two of the three of the first batch, and still think it would be incredibly wonderful if the third would accept me, but am not going to count chickens before hatching, etc.)
• I did not think for more than a minute about the class that I'm teaching tomorrow because I did the prep this afternoon (yay me!)
• I petted the incomparable Man-Kitty :)

Wow. I Usually Don't Dream with This Much Symbolism.

So I came home today, had a bite to eat, and then I took to my bed to read some Potter. As you might imagine, I fell asleep. It was the kind of sleep where when I was awakened at 6 o'clock my my cat, I was confused for a full five minutes and thought it was 6 AM instead of 6 PM, even though it seemed to light in the sky for it to be 6 AM. But also, when I was awakened, I remembered this dream I'd been having.

Ok, so it's a dream, and I'm in my house that's not my house (blah blah blah) and it's a wreck, and the people who work in the office of my apartment complex show up and let themselves in. (At this point it seemed like it was going to be one of my recurring dreams that I have, where people keep coming into my house without my permission, but no! It is not that dream!) Well, so I don't really want them in my messy house, and I keep apologizing, but they totally didn't care about that, and kept trying to give me this present they'd gotten for me, and they kept repeating how "proud" they were of me (I've no idea what for.) So finally I open the present, and while I don't remember the paper, I do remember that the box it was in was homemade and constructed out of a Marlboro Lights cigarette carton but where it's supposed to be silver it was instead pink, which was quite cool looking. And inside the box was this:

It was a small, flat, square... talisman - that's all that I can think to call it. I think that it was made of snow quartz, which is said to "bring good fortune and is a calming and soothing gemstone. Many believe it helpful for meditation and looking within. It also is called beneficial for the immune system." Engraved on this talisman were two runes. First, the rune Daeg (aka Dagaz) was engraved, and it was quite small. Right next to it was engraved a much larger Hagall (aka Hagalaz). Now, while I've never been one to know much about crystals, I do own runes and I do have a number of rune books. I recognized Hagall straight away in the dream - it's kind of my "signature rune" which comes up all the time when I do rune casts (which, incidentally, I've not done in months and months - maybe even for over a year). As for the little Daeg, I remembered the symbol, but I didn't remember the significance of it.

And then I tried to find a seat for all the people in my dream, and there were too many chairs and so people couldn't manage to sit down comfortably, and then we all decided to dance, and some woman tried to make out with me, though this was not something I was comfortable with doing.

And then my cat woke me up. And I thought it was morning, even though I didn't remember going to bed and I couldn't believe I'd not set my alarm (which does in fact go off at 6 AM, so the first thing I did was to congratulate the Man-Kitty for waking me up on time even though I didn't have my shit together to set the alarm).

If dreams mean anything, then I think we can be certain that this one means some kind of change is coming. Big change. Wow.

The Death of the Blogger

Today, Michael Berube wrote his last post. Berube's blog was one of the first "academic blogs" I encountered, and while I think I only commented maybe once or twice, I was a pretty faithful reader (though I must admit that I didn't get through some of the longer posts). When I heard that he was going to stop blogging, it made me feel a bit sad, and it also made me wonder whether and when a day will come when I, too, no longer want to blog. What purpose do blogs serve? What does it mean when a writer decides to leave the blogosphere? And what are the conditions that one needs in order consistently to write for an audience? Each blogger has to answer those questions for himself or herself. I wish that something I could write here could somehow make Michael keep blogging, though I'm not sure why I feel that way. I think in part it's because I'll really miss the posts about Jamie, such as this most recent one, which made me laugh my head off.

Berube's not the only one re-evaluating this week. Ancrene Wiseass, too, seems to have decided to leave blogging behind - or at least to put it aside for a long while.

On the one hand, we shouldn't be surprised. The medium of blogging is such that most blogs don't last very long. At least I feel like I heard that someplace. But somehow the loss of these two particular blogs from the (relatively) small list of blogs in my little corner of the Blogiverse has caught me by surprise. I always assumed that the prolific Berube would blog into infinity - that I would quit long before he would. And Ancrene Wiseass began blogging almost a year after I started, so it never occurred to me that AW would stop before I did.

So as I sit here writing this post, I'm wondering about the viability of this genre in the long term. Can we keep the community of academic bloggers alive? Is this, ultimately, a passing fad? I know that I still feel like blogging, but what if everybody else decides to stop?

Over at Acephalous, Scott wonders whether " "academic blogging" is strangling the life from "academics who blog." Careerists like myself may unwittingly pressure "academics who blog" into thinking their blogs must be more than mere blogs to justify their existence." I've got to say, I don't think that's happening. I think, at least for me, what's kept me blogging - pseudonymously, and in a more "raw" fashion (per Berube) is 1) that I value this kind of writing about my life and about the profession and 2) I was able to develop a voice that feels consistently comfortable. I think that #2 is the real key to keeping "academics who blog" blogging. I am in no way seduced by the idea of writing a purely "academic blog" that is inextricably linked to my real life professional identity, partly because I don't feel like I could be consistently comfortable with the voice that such a blog would require me to develop - at least not every single day. I think that one of the great things and one of the challenging things about this genre is that it requires one to make the rules of one's expression for oneself. Sure, there are conventions, like linking to those to whom one refers, or putting pictures of one's cats up on Friday or whatever, but ultimately, there is nobody policing one's blog - no peer reviewers, no editors, no publishers. Now, more solidly "academic" blogs do fit more closely within the conventions of academic writing and publishing, but if you take a look at some of those, such as Amardeep Singh's blog, you will still see that the form is looser - that it doesn't strictly adhere to the conventions of academic writing and publishing. So will the push to institutionalize academic blogs suffocate academics who blog - push them out of blogging altogether? I don't think that has to be the case. But I do think that blogs will continue to go defunct in this community of bloggers in part because finding and maintaining a writing voice for an audience is no easy thing to do. And sometimes we outgrow our voices, and it's not always easy to see a way to reinvent ourselves in writing, just as it's not easy to see a way to reinvent ourselves in our lives.

After Sloth Comes Productivity

Ok, so after all of my bitching and moaning, today ended up to be a good day and a good start (I think) to the spring semester. Not only did my class go fine (though how couldn't it, given the fact that it was just the hand-out-the-syllabus-and-introduce-myself-and-the-class day) but also I got a TON accomplished, including:

• I completed a less brief CFP for the MLA panel that I'm organizing for next MLA
• I updated my website (though of course, this is a work in progress, and I'm not entirely done with the page for my upper-level course).
• I got my blackboard discussion board ready to go with prompts.
• I got nearly all of my assignments for the entire semester ready to go and gave them to the administrative assistants to be copied. (Aside: when I first began this job, I was appalled that one might not do her own copying. I think this is a result of all of the temping that I did throughout my 20s. Also, I couldn't imagine having stuff done ahead of time so that others might copy it. Now? Hell yes I'm going to have my copying done for me if at all possible. Why not? Why be a martyr to the copier when others are not?)
• I revised an opening-day lecture for my upper-level class. (No need to do such plotting and planning for my Intro to Lit course, as the first day is all about me making them tell me what they think "literature" is and then having a discussion about why we've got to interrogate those ideas. Note: literature is not "anything anybody thinks is literature," nor does it only include "old-fashioned" texts, like those written by Shakespeare. I always open Intro to Lit in the same way, so I no longer even have notes for what I do in there. I am so happy finally to be at that point in some of my classes.)
• I sent an email that I'd needed to send for about a week.
• I had nice, collegial chats with a couple of colleagues.
• I met with a student.
• I sent out an email about Notoriously Difficult Book Reading Group to the interested students. Still no replies. Heh.
  
• I took a nap.

You will notice, I did NOT go to the gym. Or, rather, I went to the parking lot of the gym, realized I didn't know where my membership card had gotten to (it wasn't in the usual pocket of my gym bag) and so I took this as a sign that I should go home, have a cup of tea, and take a nap. I found the card buried in my bag upon arriving home. Will try to get to the gym tomorrow.

In other news, there is no other news. I've got to figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow, and then I think I'm going to watch some TV. After that, I will read, and then I will go to sleep. Ah yes, everything is better when I've got a routine to guide me.

On the Somewhat Belated Arrival of Enthusiasm

For yes, my friends, it has arrived! Sure, it took its sweet time in arriving, and no, this doesn't mean that I'm all of a sudden filled with Stepford-wife-like serenity about everything, but I woke up this morning feeling... well, excited. This puts me in a much better mood about the prospect of my day, even if my day promises to be kind of crap-filled. And really - why dread the first day, no matter what class(es) one is teaching? I mean, all you really do is introduce yourself and go over the syllabus.... I should save up my angst about teaching for the much greater trials that I will face throughout the course of the semester.

Recipe for Loubia bi Zeit

Ingredients:

• 1 lb. green beans (you can use any kind, but I really think it's best with fresh Italian pole beans if one can get them, which is what my Tayta uses when she can get them; also, in a pinch you can use frozen green beans)
• 5 tbsp olive oil (though of course use your judgment on the oil - I felt like this was a little too much, though I should also say that I just eyeballed my measurements on this, so I may have added more than five perfect tablespoons)
• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, crushed
• small can of plum tomatoes, drained and chopped (the recipe called for a 7 oz can, which I didn't even know existed, but I used a 14.5 oz can and that seemed like the right amount)
• 1 crushed dried chili pepper
• salt/pepper to taste
• (This recipe also called for cayenne to taste, which I didn't do as my Tayta does not use cayenne when she makes it - I'm not sure she uses a dried chili-pepper either, but I used it and it seemed fine....)

1. Bring a saucepan of water to boil. Trim the beans and add them to the water; simmer for five minutes; drain them thoroughly.
2. Heat the oil in a skillet and saute the onion for 5-6 minutes, until softened but not browned.
3. Add the garlic and stir; saute for another two minutes.
4. Stir in the tomatoes, crushed pepper, and cayenne to taste.
5. Pour into a serving bowl.

Can be served warm, room temperature, or cold (especially delicious in the very hot summer right from the refridgerator).

I got this recipe from this book, which I got very cheap, and which has many of the regular, everyday dishes that I know from family gatherings. It's a pretty accessible book, though not every dish has an accompanying picture.

In Not Facing the Start of the Semester News....

This has been an unproductive weekend for the ages. Well, that's not entirely true. But I'm not facing that school's starting, and this means that some of the things that were on my weekend to-do list have been postponed until I can't put them off anymore, i.e., to the school week. What I have accomplished is the following:

1) Made 5 new recipes: A tomato and bean casserole (delish), Indian Tomato Soup (yummy), tapenade, Shrimp with Arugula (pretty good, except that cooking shrimp kind of freaks me out - just as does cooking carbonara, so I probably won't make the shrimp recipe again, as even though it was good, I don't know - I just am kind of grossed out by the thought of it), and today, Loubia bi Zeit (green beans with olive oil and tomatoes - one of my favorite Lebanese dishes, and one of my new year's resolutions is to learn to cook lebanese food, which is no small feat because I can't exactly learn from my Tayta as she doesn't really speak English, and as I don't really speak arabic, I've decided the best course of action is to do my best with a Lebanese cookbook and then to watch her once I've done some things myself a few times, so the resolution is to make one recipe per week, sometimes repeating recipes in order to perfect them - or just because I love them) and now I'm making a mediterannean chicken recipe, in which you stuff boneless skinless chicken breasts with a mixture of tapenade and feta cheese.

2) I cleaned my toilet.

Yeah, that's kind of all I've accomplished. I have not...

1) done laundry
2) organized my closet
3) done some record-keeping things
4) emailed students about Notoriously Difficult Book reading group that I've agreed to lead
5) looked over stuff for the first day of classes TOMORROW (and can I just say that the new MLA dates are really going to suck balls for people with my academic calendar? I know, I know, the current dates suck for many people, especially for those with small children, but as much as the current dates suck, I still prefer them to the new ones, if only because I will have ABSOLUTELY NO TIME BEFORE MY SEMESTER BEGINS once the new dates go into effect. I'm sorry, but I need this time.)
6) Straightened up around the homestead and vaccuumed. But as the kitchen and bathroom are clean, I'm not beating myself up for this. I mean, really, who cares about a little clutter? It's not like the Man-Kitty minds...

While I've been busy not accomplishing the above, I have been busy with the following:

1) Watching the conclusion to the ANTM marathon on VH1
2) Watching The Wedding Crashers, twice.
3) Watching the following movies on TV, with commercials: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, A Few Good Men, a bit of Top Gun, Legally Blonde, A Walk to Remember, The Wedding Planner, a bit of Wimbeldon.
4) Watching the following movies on cable: Hope Floats, Ordinary People, The Family Stone, and I'm not even sure what else, but I think there were actually more movies than that on cable that I watched all or part of.

I think I might be depressed. What else can all of this couch potato behavior possibly mean?

But whether I'm actually depressed or not, I can tell you this: I am not energized about this spring semester, I am not happy with certain aspects of my job, and I am feeling fairly down about the prospect of most aspects of my life in this location, at this job, at this point. And I just don't have the energy to do anything about it - especially if there is even a sliver of hope that I might get a campus visit (which I have now convinced myself is only the tiniest sliver and that I've fucked everything totally up with trying to get out of here).

Maybe the start of the semester will be good, if only because I'll have to interact with people and get out of this funk.

For a Burnt-Out, Crazy Person, I'm Actually Quite Well-Adjusted

At least according to this quiz, as seen first at New Kid's ...

Well-Adjusted

You scored low in all categories--so there's no need to worry! Not that you were worrying, anyway. You are so Well-Adjusted that I almost feel the need to worry for you. Your low anxiety score implies that you are able to relax, can enjoy the here and now, and have a healthy amount of self-confidence. Your low awkwardness score implies that you are socially capable, are personable and charming, and probably go to parties and have fun. Your low neuroticism score implies that you don't exhibit subtle neurotic behaviors--your nails are probably an acceptable length, your pencils aren't covered with bite marks, and your bookcase isn't arranged alphabetically by genre. Congrats! __ See the other results! Well-Adjusted The Neat Freak The Dork The Geek Phobic Obsessive-Compulsive The Subtle Neurotic The True Neurotic

Link: The Neurotic Test written by littlelostsnail on Ok Cupid

Only a Little Less Than 72 Hours of Freedom

And actually less than that, because I actually have to go into school today in order to get syllabi and assignments copied.

The good news is that I think I'm pretty much done with everything that I NEED to have done for Monday. The bad news is that Monday is going to come far too quickly, and I really don't feel rested and rejuvenated for the spring semester. I feel burnt out, and that is no way to start off, you know?

Mostly I feel burnt out about one of my three classes and about my administrative thing that I took on, thinking that it would be better than a fourth class (it is not). I feel burnt out by the prospect of teaching a class about which i have no passion, and I feel burnt out about continuing in a position that has me dealing with people who insist on treating me like I don't have a fucking Ph.D. and like I exist to serve them, like this bullshit is my only job. In other words, I am totally not energized about my semester when I think about these two things.

When I think about my upper-level class, however, and when I think about my intro to lit course, I am totally psyched. The intro to lit just made it's enrollment minimum yesterday (which is totally bizarre, as most semesters it usually fills right up on the first day freshmen can schedule) and I've been maxed out in the upper-level class since very early in priority registration. I really think that both of these courses are going to be fabulous - maybe even fabulous enough to make up for the other half of my teaching load, which makes me very unhappy.

The other thing that sucks is waiting to hear about interview crap, which really is pointless to wait because there's nothing I can do now to change whatever's going to happen. Must stop thinking about it.

So yep, that's the life of crazy. If people want to continue commenting in the networking thread on the previous post, please don't hesitate - my intention here is not to stop what is a really great discussion, just to whine and complain a little :)

In the Network

On the first day of MLA, after I'd gotten settled in my hotel room, I wandered over to the convention to get a plastic holder for my nametag and to see whether I saw anybody I knew wandering around. I ran into a friend from grad school who is currently in a VAP and who before that was in another contract job. He's basically been on the market in some fashion for about five years, if I figure it rightly. He has basically had no chance to develop courses in his field of specialty until this year. This year he had one interview. That interview was on the second day of MLA, and as soon as it was done, this friend was leaving the convention.

On the third day of MLA, I was supposed to try to meet up with another grad school friend. This friend is also not in a tenure-track position, and this friend has been on the market pretty solidly for what is now four or five years. I never ended up being able to meet up with the friend, as he was staying outside the city and not at the convention and I'm a social butterfly who made plans with about 47,000 people and so this friend slipped through the cracks, but we did talk on the phone that night when I returned back to my hotel. He also had one interview this year.

Now, I don't bring up these examples to be uncool to these people whom I know from grad school, but I suppose both - in conjunction with a conversation I had with Bitch, Ph.D. in which she talked about the difference between her previous MLA conventions and this one where she was in kind of an "in crowd" - got me thinking about insiders and outsiders at MLA and how the social aspects of the profession play into the material and, well, professional aspects of it.

People talk a lot about "networking" and its importance in the World of Business, and people do mention it in an academic context, too, but I think that the idea that networking is crucial to one's ability to make a success of oneself in the profession is a dirty little secret. We're all supposed to be brilliant, right? Academia is a meritocracy, right? It's not playing fair to use connections to get ahead, right? I think that is what many would say, as if this profession is somehow above such things. I also think that all of those sorts of responses are multiplied because many academics can be somewhat introverted people and they make a ready alibi for those who feel uncomfortable with networking - they can say that they just choose not to sully themselves by networking, when really the thought of it makes them miserable.

I think it's a mistake to look at networking as some sort of optional activity in this profession. I think it is crucial to be "in the network" instead of on the fringes (at MLA, at other conferences, etc.) in this profession. And the only way that I know how to talk about that is to talk about my own experiences in this regard.

I was lucky. I had an undergraduate thesis adviser who threw me into the network before I even knew what the network was. I was 21, it was my first ever conference (a small one, to which my adviser had encouraged me to send an abstract), and somehow I found myself (because I was following my adviser around like a puppy) inside an "in-crowd." I surely didn't belong in this crowd, but somehow I did become lasting acquaintances with a handful of generous people who also just so happen to be pretty important contacts in this tiny little subfield within my field of specialization. So how did I do it? Again, part of it is luck. I was in the right place (a Holiday Inn bar) at the right time (the last night of the conference). But the other part of it is capitalizing on opportunities, which is not luck but rather something that one has to learn to do and something that one gets better at the more that one does it. I was so naive and wide-eyed at this first conference of mine that when people asked me what I was working on or what I was interested in, I told them. I didn't worry about how I appeared because I felt so out of my league already that I figured I could say anything and it wouldn't matter. Because that was my first experience, and because it worked out so well, I pretty much continued in that fashion, and that is where you see me at the present day. So luck, yes, and my own personality, yes, but also the willingness to use situations for professional gain, which may sound crass, but it's what we're all trying to do at the end of the day, so let's just call it what it is and be done with it.

I don't think that this is the experience for most people who enter graduate school and attend their first conferences. I think what happens to most graduate students is that they hang around with other graduate students, which, to put it bluntly, isn't going to get you anywhere. Now, at my first conference, none of the graduate students would talk to me because I was not yet a grad student myself, and so I ended up talking to all of the "important" people. Once I became a grad student, I did end up in the "grad student group" at a number of conferences, and while I did make some friends out of that experience, I've got to tell you: kvetching with other grad students is not going to get you publications, it's not going to get you a job, it's not going to get you, well, anything other than some pals that you kvetch with for a few days, and you probably won't even keep in touch with the great majority of them afterward. Hanging out exclusively with grad students from your grad program (or grad school friends if you're out)? The dumbest thing that you possibly could do.

Sure, it's more comfortable. It's really anxiety-producing to talk to strangers (yes, even for Dr. Crazy, depending on the situation), but if you don't, then you have no engagement with your profession. It matters if you know somebody who knows somebody else. It matters that you don't waste your time at conferences like they're summer camp or a vacation - they are a professional activity, and what you do at them (and which ones you choose to attend) can make a huge difference in your reputation in your field.

(Aside: I do have friends in my peer group within my field - I'm not totally careerist in developing relationships with people - but I'm trying to drive home the point that as a junior person, one has to be aware that any time one spends with other junior people may mean that you're not having a conversation with a senior person who can help you right now with your career.)

I feel like a pompous ass for writing this post, but the people I cited at the beginning clearly didn't get the memo about this stuff. I'm astonished by the fact that I got the memo, but I think I did because I was always more confident in my ability to chat people up than in my ability to wow strangers with the brilliance of my mind. Also, I'm an academic whore and I have no problem with the idea that the quality of my ideas isn't necessarily the only thing that's going to get me where I want to go in the profession. What that means now is that I'm an officer in one professional society and active in two more. I've organized and/or chaired panels for conferences including MLA. I've been invited to publish things.

Those things all matter in this profession, and they mattered on my CV when it came to the job market this time around. Who knows whether I'll get further in the job search process, but I'll tell you what: I had more interviews, having sent out far fewer applications, than a lot of the people to whom I spoke who finished their Ph.D.s around the same time as me. I've got to think that being Miss Congeniality and networking to my advantage has played some role in that success.

So what did my MLA look like?

Wednesday:

• Arrived in Philadelphia, met a colleague on the shuttle and planned to have lunch on Friday
• Ran into friend from Grad School and hung out with him for about an hour
• Prepped for interviews
• Attended a panel
• Prepped for interviews

Thursday:

• Interviewing
• Blogging panel
• Lunch with stranger, who it turns out submitted an article at a journal whose editor I know, so I took her card so I could pass along a good word
• Went shopping for wine and cheese for one of my societies
• Went to grad school party
• Went to society party #1
• Went to society party #2
• Thought I was going to stay in, but ended up at Blogger Meet-up #1 late-night

Friday:

• Slept in (as I was very hung over and tired)
• Lunch with colleague from Wednesday
• Popped in at the end of a panel to say hello to professor from grad school who is no longer at grad school; also to get directions to society party #3
• Went to society party #3
• Went for a drink with friend from society party #3
• Met up with many bloggers and had dinner

Saturday

• Went to a meeting for MLA allied societies
• Went to blogger panel
• Went for coffee with bloggers
• Went to airport and collapsed from exhaustion

Now, people, that's what a strong networking MLA looks like. It doesn't look like attending a ton of panels (although sometimes attending a panel can be good networking, but my point is that many times it's not and it really depends on the panel), and it doesn't look like yucking it up only with people you knew from grad school. And yes, meeting up with bloggers totally counts as networking. It's not that one needs to be mercenary about making connections, but being alert to the fact that it's a good thing to do never hurt anybody. And you don't need to be a nametag gazer to get this done - because I'm really quite an oblivious person and I never end up meeting people because I've scoped them out and so I fail miserably at the nametag gazing thing - you just need to be active in your specialization, and particularly in the tiny subspecializations within that broader field. If you show up enough, you're bound to get sucked into the network, you know?

You won't, however, get sucked into the network if you don't belong to any societies, if you don't go to any parties, and if you don't talk to random people at lunch or on the airport shuttle or whatever. If you don't hang out alone. That's the way it goes. And being in the network matters, I've got to think, in terms of one's ability to get jobs. Most of us just aren't brilliant enough to manage that on smarts alone.

Again, I apologize for being so absolute and arrogant sounding in this post. I think part of that comes out of frustration. I hate looking at my friends who've been slogging away at this year after year, who've been utterly beaten down by this profession, and feeling like I want to shake them because they're not doing some things that I think might help them. I also hate feeling like my friends resent me because of the successes that I've had - I got a job my first year on the market, ABD, so yes, it can happen - like they think I'm a fraud and have succeeded as I have only because I'm such a social butterfly, rather than realizing that one has nothing to do with the other. I may or may not be a fraud, but the social butterfly stuff helps even those who are not frauds, if that makes sense. I don't know. I just wish that this networking stuff wasn't so mystified, that in smaller professional organizations there was more of an effort to bring junior people and grad students into the network (and there is in some - but notably not in others), and that there was more emphasis on this part of things as part of grad student training. Sure, your "ideas" matter, but there are so many parts of this profession that have nothing to do with the quality of one's ideas.

Ok, I think I've run out of steam. Maybe people can comment about their own experiences with networking and about their experiences with making professional connections? Or about why they opt out of being in the network? I feel like this would be a good discussion to have, and might be of use to grad student readers especially.

Blogroll Updated!

FINALLY.

If I missed anybody, or deleted anybody whom I wasn't supposed to delete (thanks, Rwellor, for your help with alerting me to dead links), let me know!

Now to do real things on my to-do list, like writing syllabi, etc.

Oh, and do check out the many new additions to the blogroll. Lots of new (to my blogroll) grad student blogs, and lots of people from across different disciplines.