Woman, Teacher, Professor - In That Order

I had posted something last night about teaching, and this morning I took it down. I didn't take it down because of any reaction that the post got, or, rather, I took it down only because of how I myself reacted to reading it after a good night's sleep. It wasn't so much a retraction of what I'd written, the taking it down, but rather that I wanted some more time to sit with my thoughts and to process what I've been thinking about. I wanted - although this is uncharacteristic for me - to revise something I'd written on the blog.

I wanted to revise because I hated the tone of what I'd written. My anger about what I was talking about was too present. Now, that's not to say that some anger here isn't justified, but I felt like the anger got in the way of what I was trying to say. One of the difficulties of discussing how gender (or race, class, sexuality, whatever) intersects with one's identity as a professor is that it's too easy to construct oneself as a victim, and that ultimately, I think, gets in the way of really addressing the very real issues that need to be addressed. The point isn't that I'm victimized by my students or by my colleagues or by anybody. The point is to acknowledge certain ways in which the process for evaluating an assistant professor's performance is broken (at my institution, but this isn't just a local issue). The point is, when one is at an institution that "values teaching," or when one is in a position where teaching determines one employability (I'm thinking of adjuncting here), the criteria for evaluation are stacked in ways that can ultimately penalize very good teachers. This isn't to say that those who do well under this system are all bad teachers, but it is to acknowledge that the ways in which "good teaching" is quantified are not free of bias.

Things are, ultimately, simpler in judging what makes "good research," I think. You know how many articles are required, you know what the bar is for tenure, you know what kind of work particular journals or presses typically publish, and you go from there. Moreover, you're mentored about this throughout your education (more or less, depending, but still there is some mentorship) and professional activities are oriented around research (conferences). Teaching, on the other hand, receives much less attention, even if one gets "teaching experience" in graduate school. And exchange of ideas about teaching, while it does happen, tends to be oriented around conversations about grading and assignments or how to teach particular subject matter, which is great, but which doesn't really address how one "proves" that one is a "good" teacher, which is crucial if one is at a teaching-oriented institution or if one's job is solely to teach.

Now, the evaluation of teaching at my institution pretty much consists of higher-ups looking at student evaluations - both the numbers and the comments. While it is true that you also submit syllabi and course materials for review and that these are taken into consideration, what appears to carry the most weight, in terms of performance review (for raises) and in terms of achieving tenure, are student evaluations. And these evaluations are not, by any stretch of the imagination, an "objective" measure of what makes a good teacher. The statistics that result from do make them appear to be that, but they are not.

And this was where my anger and frustration last night came from. I am a dedicated teacher, and I think that I am a good teacher. Teaching is the part of my job on which I spend the most time, and I care about trying to be inventive as a teacher and about changing my teaching practices to meet student needs. I have worked very hard at this throughout my probationary period at this job. And, overall, the results of that hard work have been positive. I've received a teaching award from students in the major, and I've never had truly abysmal evaluations. But. I face two difficulties with evaluations. First, the statistical averages are consistently skewed by a small minority of students who take out their frustration at being challenged in my courses by giving all low rankings. In small classes (which thankfully, I have at my university) one bad apple does indeed spoil the whole bushel. So the numbers are not truly reflective of what I achieve - or what students as a whole believe happens - in many of my courses. Second, even if the numbers are good, the comments that students leave often cancel those good numbers out. And the comments are without fail responses based on my failure to conform to their ideas of how a woman should behave. The comments are not about what they learn, or fail to learn, nor are they about what I actually do to facilitate that learning. Rather, they are comments about "manner." You'd think that this wouldn't be a big deal. Except - and this is a big except - the practice at my university is only to include wholly positive evaluations in the sample that one provides to substantiate that he or she is a good teacher. So while a student might have given me all 5's, that evaluation is useless to me if the student also says, "She acts like she knows more than the students do," or "she assigns too much reading." (Might I note that I think that both of those actually reflect positively on my teaching, as indeed, I probably *should* know more than the students, and if I hid that light under a bushel, they'd say that I wasn't qualified to teach them, and assigning a lot of reading in an English course seems like the right thing to do. That said, I was cautioned against including evaluations with such comments in my materials.) Similarly, there are weird inconsistencies in evaluations, so, for example, my rating as an instructor might just be average or below average ("She grades too hard") but the evaluation for the course might be through the roof ("I've never learned more in a class at this university"), and, you guessed it, that's an evaluation that I shouldn't include. And finally, the students who give the best comments often give lower numbers because they actually take the ranking seriously and don't see why somebody should get a 5 for a question like, "instructor followed course policies." Those evaluations, then, also do less good.

Typically, at my university, these inconsistencies and the tendency for evaluation numbers to skew lower do not happen across the board to all instructors. They happen to female instructors. They happen to instructors of color (the few that there are). Comparing notes with male colleagues bears this out anecdotally, though it is something that is then typically brushed aside ("Oh, we know this happens! Don't worry about it! We take that into account!"). Looking at the salary differentials between male and female professors bears this out in more substantive ways, for merit pay is almost solely dependent on one's performance in teaching, and if that performance is almost solely dependent on one's evaluation numbers, well, that has a significant effect on salary over time. So this is a real problem - not one that is insignificant.

And personally it is frustrating because it doesn't matter what I do or what I change and it still happens. Wear dressy clothes? If I'm not "nurturing" how I dress doesn't mean a hill of beans. Be more explicit about how the work of the course fits together and about the objectives of each assignment? Been there, done that, and my assignments and syllabi get longer and longer each semester, and yet, the same comments come up. Attempt to come up with new and innovative assignments that students will enjoy more while still meeting the same learning objectives? Yep, I can check that off the list, and for my pains I get the comment that New Kid and Rokeya noted about "not really teaching" the class.

To be fair, there are many students who think that I'm the bomb. Who commend me for treating students like adults, and who say that I've been the most influential teacher they've had at this institution, and who say that they've never learned more in a course. But those don't cancel out the responses from students for whom I'm a Woman first and a Teacher second. And it doesn't help that I'm young.

All of this then contributes to how I attempt to negotiate my fuller identity as an assistant professor at this university, as one has to simultaneously attempt to fly under the radar ("oh, my book contract is no big deal!"; "Sure, I teach difficult stuff and I get students to do stuff you'd never dreamed they could do, but I'm just a masochist!") while at the same time one tries to stand out ("Here are all of my accomplishments! I'm really great! Give me tenure! Give me a course release!"). This is a difficult balancing act, and sometimes I do just want to say fuck it and stop with the bullshit and shout from the rooftops that I'm doing great stuff in all areas and if people are threatened by that - be they students or colleagues or whatever - that that's their problem. BUT. I can't do that before tenure. It would be self-destructive.

What I'd like is to be seen as an assistant professor first, a teacher second, and a woman third. What I'd like is for there to be a way that teaching is evaluated and valued that is less about how well one fits into the mold of "sage on the stage" (sorry, I don't have the jacket with elbow patches and the pipe required for that role) and more about what students actually learn in one's courses (imagine that). I'd like a structure for student evaluations that is more about what actually happens in a course rather than about how students "feel" in relation to me. I'd like for students to appreciate it just a tiny bit that I'm tough on them rather than deciding I'm a rude bitch because I am.

And it's all of the above that makes people check out at a certain point, stop trying and stop caring. And as much as I get frustrated and angry, it's not really in me to check out. So the only thing for it, I suppose, is to get tenure and to start the revolution.

In Which I Take Down Last Night's Post about Teaching

Because I hated its tone of complaint. I'll write a real post about teaching and gender at some point in which I can describe in a less bitchy way what my experience has been, but for now I'm taking what I wrote last night down because while I suppose it's fine, it's not really how I want to talk about this issue.

Ah, Plagiarism

I'm not certain what I think about this, but it does seem interesting in light of the discussion that went on about plagiarism last week. I wonder how many "hang the plagiarist!" folks are Obama supporters, and, if any of them are/were, I wonder what impact this news makes on them.

What's interesting about the coverage of the plagiarism accusations is the way that people are going after Clinton's camp for bringing up the issue (which I anticipated would be the case when I first heard the news, as how weak is it to claim that your opponent is a copy-cat, whether or not it's true? And, indeed, even I think it's kind of weak), and often as support for this they are talking about how all candidates borrow language and ideas and it's part of the process, blah blah blah, or, as John R. Bohrer writes over at the Huffington Post:

"If you want to be high-minded about it, you could say looking at what survives one campaign to go on to the next is a study of what rhetoric works and what rhetoric doesn't.

Clearly, Patrick's worked, and Obama's seems to be doing the same. Otherwise they wouldn't be going after it in so many different ways.

In fact, I'd like to put Hillary Clinton's 2008 attacks on Obama's rhetoric next to that of Patrick's 2006 Republican opponent, Kerry Healey.

Might find some "plagiarism" there, too."

Here's the thing: I still haven't decided about whether I support Obama or Clinton. I am so lucky as to have months before I could vote for either. I will say this, though: I'm less bothered by the fact that Obama borrowed language than by his response to being caught out about it. I'm not pleased about the "no big deal" vibe I got from his comments to the NY Times. At the very least he should be embarrassed. I mean, that's the least I expect from my students, and they're not running for president. And the "I wrote two books" defense doesn't mean crap to me, as I don't let a student off the hook if he or she wrote their first paper but submitted a plagiarized one for the second. Just because you *could* have written it doesn't mean you *did*. Duh. But so yeah, his response is to the allegations is weak.

You know, I feel like *I'm* embarrassed for both Obama and Clinton. And that sucks because I know I'm going to end up voting for one or the other of them.


ETA: I was just cruising around on the youtube video of the two speeches side by side, and some poor soul argued that if you talk to your friend about it first, and your friend consents to you using his ideas/language, that it's not plagiarism. Here's a tip to any students who might believe that: consent means nothing without proper citation. That defense will land you in big trouble with the Academic Integrity Police, and could get you expelled from school.

Because I Know You're Wondering how the Beans and Rice Turned Out

Well, folks, I think we've got a winner. Here is what I did, and as you see, it was "inspired" by the Cooking Light recipe, but I changed some things, in part influenced by A.'s recipe that we discussed last night. I didn't note the prep time, though it couldn't have been more than a half hour from when I drained the soaked beans to when everything was simmering on the stove unattended, and it probably was more like 20 minutes. So here it goes:

Ingredients:

• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 green pepper
• 2 medium onions (I used yellow because I had them on hand, but I suppose red would be nice, too)
  
• 4 ribs of celery (outer ones, if you were using the smaller inner ribs you might want more)
  
• 1 jalapeño pepper, minced
  
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 pkg chicken sausage (jalapeño) - 4 links
• 1 1/2 (or so - I just used up the rice that I had around the house) cups of long-grain brown rice (uncooked)
• 1 cup black beans (dry, soaked overnight)
• 2 cups kidney beans (dry, soaked overnight)
• 14.5 oz. can of diced tomatoes, undrained.
  
• 1 box of low sodium chicken broth (32 oz.)
  
• 1/2 - 1 tsp dried thyme
• 1 tsp salt
• pepper to taste
• 1 tsp cayenne
• 1 tsp cumin
  
• 1 tsp chili powder

Directions:

1. sort/rinse beans the night before and soak overnight. In the morning rinse the beans and sort again. (I'm sure you could use canned beans, but I had these in the house.)
   
2. chop all the veggies. I tend to like a rougher more "rustic" chop (i.e., I don't have much patience for tiny chopping) but I did mince the garlic and the jalapeño, which I recommend.
3. Heat the olive oil in a large pot, and then dump in the veggies. I had it on medium to medium-high heat. Cook the veggies until tender.
4. While the veggies are cooking, measure the spices into a small bowl and mix. Also, measure out the rice, and chop the sausage into small pieces. (I quartered the sausage lengthwise and then chopped).
5. When the veggies are ready, dump the spices in and stir until the veggies are coated. Cook for 30 secs. to a minute.
6. Dump in the rice. Stir until coated with veggies/oil/spice mixture. Cook for about a minute.
7. Stir in the beans, sausage, tomatoes, and chicken broth.
8. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat so that it will be at a simmer while covered.
9. Let it cook for about an hour and a half (less or more depending) or until the liquid is absorbed.

And here is what I see as I look into the pot in which I cooked this delicious concoction. It's spicy, but not "I'm crying as I eat the food that I made" spicy. Obviously you can play around with the proportions of the spices, leave some out, or add in other spices per your taste. It came out to approximately 10 servings.

Ah, Sunday....

Well, it is a gloomy Sunday morning here in these parts, what with no sunshine (though, on the bright side, it is pretty warm).

Funny thing: when my mom calls me on weekend mornings, we ritualistically discuss the weather. The conversation generally includes some version of the following:

"It's a gray and gloomy day this morning, cloudy."
"Oh, here we've got 'sunshine eye to eye!'"

Now, you may be wondering about what this "sunshine eye to eye" business is all about. My stepdad is from the Middle East, right? Well, this phrase is his invention, which comes out of his modified version of the words to Kajagoogoo's song "Too Shy." Other similar phrases that have entered into our family's lexicon: "Around the world and aye-aye-aye" (answer to how my mother chooses to get from point A to point B in any situation, which comes from the song "All Around the World," Barry White, Lisa Stansfield, Puff Daddy....) and "On the road to Tennessee" (where Stepdad will say he's going if you ever ask him, and I think this comes from the '90s hit "Tennessee" by Arrested Development). Without fail, all of these things amuse me, and my parents, though I am willing to acknowledge that my family and I may be total weirdos.

In other news, I've finished with primary source stuff for my article (rereading, reading, note-taking) and so now it's time to get the critical reading done and the theory ironed out. I'm on the pace that I'd originally laid out for myself - my goal is to be to the drafting stage of things by the end of the month, to use spring break to get a solid nearly final draft, and then to deal with editing in the last two weeks of the month. In exciting news, my library has purchased Refworks, which means that turning everything into Chicago Style will not be the tragedy in my life that it has been on all previous projects (we in the humanities are slow with the technological inventions that ease our lives, and I never got around to getting EndNote). All in all I'm feeling very positive about the whole thing. I feel like it's worth mentioning that had you told me when I was in grad school that I'd be feeling so at ease with this task I would have told you that you were crazy. When I think about the angst that accompanied each seminar paper, each chapter of the dissertation, and my utter lack of confidence that I'd ever be able to get a coherent whole together in polished writing.... well, let's just say that at least for me it's true that the more of this stuff you do the easier it gets. Now, obviously the article may be rejected, but it's nice to feel like I'm capable of producing something that may not be rejected in this beginning stage, and to feel pretty calm about the whole project. I do anticipate, however, that there will be some angsty times ahead, as it's in my personality to stress as things get further along, so it's not like I'm this totally well adjusted scholar or anything - just that there's less up front anxiety than there used to be.

What else? Well, I did my taxes, and I'm ever more pleased about my financial resolutions because I really need to get myself into a position to buy something because while I'm still getting a refund this year, that refund sucks. Ah well, at least I'm still getting a teensy bit of money back. And at least in theory, I'll be able to begin saving for a down payment on something in 2009.

So, on the agenda for today is that I'm going to do some cleaning up around the homestead, and I'm going to make a version of this recipe (though I'm doing some tweaking because I'm just not fussy enough to follow the instructions on Cooking Light recipes and because I'm going to replace the chicken with jalepeno chicken sausage and because I'm going to use more beans.... depending on how it goes I'll post the recipe I actually come up with later). I should also do a writing-related task that I've had on the back burner for months, sort laundry, and do some prep for my classes. All in all, a busy day ahead, but I'm kind of into all of the things that I have on the agenda. The thing I also should do is go to the gym. I *think* I've finally kicked the Evil Cold that Would Not End (though still a bit sniffly sometimes), and I need to recommit to working out. This week I didn't lose or gain any weight, and I think reintegrating working out will get me back on the losing train. I also need to get back to keeping a food diary because I fell off with that, and I think it was good for me to do it. I think I may need to start another one that I keep at the office, though, so that I don't need to remember what I've eaten to record when I go home. I can't be relied upon to carry the thing with me everywhere, and that's where I think I fell out of the habit of doing it.

So, this has been a hodgepodge of a post, hasn't it been? Ah well, not every post can have an actual point, especially on a gloomy and gray Sunday morning :)

RBOC: TGIF edition!

• I don't know how to write about what happened at NIU. So I'm not going to. There just aren't words.
• And so instead I shall write about frivolous things. Like how this schedule of mine this semester? It totally doesn't get old! I am so happy every single Friday! And sure, the mid-week is grueling, but the Friday where I don't need to be anyplace on a regular basis? This more than makes up for the grueling Tuesday through Thursday.
• This afternoon I went to get my hair cut, and that was an excellent treat. I love my hair person. She's just so great. And so CHEAP. Today's visit, which included a cut and an eyebrow wax, cost a whopping $30 bucks (plus tip). And I was quite pleased because she supports my desire to end up with the Klum haircut, and she congratulated me on how well I've dealt with having the heavy bangs, for apparently not all people do so well with them. This made me feel weirdly proud of myself.
• I'm eating some yummy tuna casserole (whole wheat noodles, many veggies, low fat). I'm really loving the healthy eating thing I've been doing in the '08. And apparently my ass is loving it, too, for this has been the week of wearing pants that I've not been able to fit into in approximately a year.
  
• In other news, I'm thinking I may do some work on the article for a few hours. Where this motivation comes from I really don't know.
  

Thoughts on Plagiarism

Dean Dad did a post about a faculty member who plagiarized a statement of teaching philosophy, and since I read the post I keep thinking not only about it but also about the comments in the thread. I'm not thinking so much about plagiarism itself - plagiarism is bad, etc. - but more about the violent reaction that many have against it and what causes the violence of that reaction.

Now, the simple answer that many would give is that they react so vehemently to the idea (or fact) of plagiarism because it constitutes a gross violation of trust, honesty, etc., and that it is outrageous that anyone would ever represent the ideas or words of another as his/her own, under any circumstances. Thus, the anger is a righteous anger. Many would then go on to say that there is no doubt as to what constitutes plagiarism and that those who commit the crime of plagiarism should be given the smack-down without hesitation. Further, some would say that there is no need for a policy to be in place, because everybody knows that this is against the rules.

It's these simple answers that have me thinking. First, something in me resists the impulse to anger that so often characterizes academic discussions about plagiarism, as if each instance of plagiarism constitutes a personal affront to individual academics. They characterize the actions of the plagiarist as actions motivated by contempt or arrogance, as malicious. Now, I have a good track record of catching plagiarists (student plagiarists). I take plagiarism seriously. And yet, I don't think a single one of them was plagiarizing to hurt my feelings or to offend me. I also don't think that they really thought much about the possibility of being caught, so it's not that they arrogantly assumed that they'd get away with it. Rather, plagiarists are desperate. Yep, every single one of them, even high-falutin' ones like Doris Kearns Goodwin, is motivated by desperation.

Now, why is the plagiarist desperate? Why does the plagiarist despair? Here are some reasons:

• The plagiarist thinks that he or she cannot do the work and succeed under his or her own steam.
  
• The plagiarist is under some sort of a time crunch, whether because of procrastination or something outside of his/her control, and so thinks that the only way to get the work done is to "borrow" from somebody else.
• The plagiarist doesn't really believe in the "assignment" and doesn't really believe that anybody will check for plagiarism or necessarily read what they've written with any attention (and I think this is the one that is probably the biggest issue with non-student plagiarists).

I note these "reasons" for plagiarism not to excuse it, but rather to suggest that perhaps it's not just about the person who plagiarizes being an asshole. Because I don't really think that's the case. I don't think plagiarism is about somebody waging an attack against people who stand on some moral higher ground. About a person trying to get away with something. I think it's about insecurity in some cases, a lack of faith in others, and sometimes it's about a combination of the two. Again, that doesn't excuse it. It's still wrong. But I think that taking the personal affront out of the equation helps to deal with it in a way that's more efficient and ultimately in a way that does more good.

With students, it makes sense to take plagiarism seriously because it impresses upon them the fact that their own, original ideas *matter.* It's about showing them that even if they fear that they're not up to the task (whether because of ability or because of procrastination or because of a feeling that they are insignificant) that they shouldn't let that fear rule them because what's important is the process and not the product. If a student plagiarizes, it doesn't show me anything about them, and the whole point of submitting assignments is for them to show themselves to me. I'd rather get a crappy assignment than a plagiarized one, mainly because I can't teach them anything if they're not showing me where they are with the material. I can teach a student who turns in something that sucks: I can't teach a student who turns in something that somebody else wrote. Moreover, most stuff that plagiarists choose to plagiarize sucks worse than what a student might do on his/her own. It just "sounds better."

Now, in the case that Dean Dad's correspondent described, this wasn't about a student, but about a faculty member, who plagiarized his (for the sake of convenience, imagine a his/her throughout) statement of teaching philosophy in his materials for reappointment (I get the sense that this was either for a 3rd year review or that the institution requires yearly submission of materials for probationary faculty). Is this different from an instance of a student plagiarizing? Are the reasons different, and is the situation even more clear-cut? These are the questions I've been asking myself all day long, as I've watched the comments to Dean Dad's post.

First of all, I think we're kidding ourselves if we think that everybody knows what constitutes plagiarism in every situation or that we regard all of our activities through that lens. Take a look at yourselves for a moment. Do you cite every idea that you present in a lecture that came from someplace other than your own brain? Every single one? Let's say that you're teaching an introductory course and they need some historical background. Do you tell them where you got that historical background from? Every time? Probably not. If you use an assignment that a colleague developed, do you cite him/her on the assignment sheet? Really? Some people may, but I think that this is a gray area for many of us. I mean, if something's not your idea you should cite it, and I'd argue that most of us follow this rule in scholarship, but in teaching? Really? Every single time?

What the case that Dean Dad's correspondent describes does is it ups the ante. What about when we talk about our teaching, in the context of something like promotion and tenure materials? Should that be original to us, or is it ok to borrow from others, or from the internet? Is this boilerplate stuff that we can freely borrow, or is it unique to us?

My impulse is that it should be unique to us. We should be talking specifically about our practices and our reasons for instituting those practices. I believe this in part because I'm at a teaching-intensive university, and you can't use boilerplate to discuss something that is intrinsic to what you do. And this was my impulse when I criticized some job applications when I was on a search committee, when two applicants from the same grad program used identical language in their job letters to talk about their teaching. My colleagues were more forgiving than I was in evaluating these candidates, citing that job letters included "boilerplate" language. I believed that it showed neither had really thought about his or her teaching in a deep way, but rather that they were talking the talk while not demonstrating that they could walk the walk. (I should note that while these candidates made it to first-round interviews, neither one of these candidates ultimately made the final cut for campus visits.)

This, my friends, is why it's helpful to have a policy, though. If it is clearly stated what is expected - that one talk specifically about his own teaching and how that relates to his broader theories about what teaching is supposed to achieve - then it makes sense to penalize people who don't meet that requirement. If, however, the message that is sent is that a) nobody will evaluate what is written very closely and b) that what is expected is "boilerplate" that fits a particular model and that is very general, that encourages plagiarism. It's just like giving a paper topic to students that is "conventional" and easily plagiarizable. And in that case, the "assignment" is the problem, as well as the system for evaluating it. Does that mean that the plagiarist is not culpable for his/her infraction? No. But to pretend that it's just "obvious" what should be done is also wrong.

It's not that the plagiarist is too simple-minded to understand the rules: it's that the implicit rules indicate one thing and the morality of those who enforce the rules indicates another. A strong statement about what is required eliminates this conflict. It also eliminates the personal investment in any conflict that might arise, as there is something to govern the response of the department or of the promotion and tenure committee. For me, the fact of the matter is this: if you don't give a good assignment, and if the person doing the assignment doesn't take the assignment seriously and believe that it matters, then you've got to interrogate the assignment itself and the person or people who are evaluating it. This doesn't excuse a breach of academic integrity, but it also doesn't authorize the evaluators to congratulate themselves for giving the smack-down.

Now, in the case that Dean Dad's correspondent described, do I think that the plagiarizer should have been renewed without reservation? Absolutely not. Do I think that they should have been renewed with reservations? Maybe, or maybe they should have given a terminal one-year contract and told to hit the road. It's not about feeling sorry for the person, though, if I express any leniency about this. It's about the fact that at the end of the day I really do believe that we've got to hold ourselves accountable for setting up situations in which plagiarism occurs. If we lay out the rules clearly, and the consequences clearly, and it still occurs? Obviously it's on the plagiarist. If we don't do those things? It's on us as well as on them. And we have no moral higher ground on which to stand. We are complicit.

Valentine's Silliness

It certainly has been a long time since I've put quiz results up! And so in honor of V-day....

Your Candy Heart Says "Cutie Pie"

You always seem to have a hot date, even though you never try to meet anyone. A total charmer, you have a natural appeal that keeps you in high demand. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: multiple dates with multiple people Your flirting style: 100% natural What turns you off: serious relationship talks Why you're hot: you're totally addicting

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

Oof. And the Day is Done.

So, of the ten items in my last post I accomplished.... 1, 3, 5, 6, 8,9,10. In other words, I did one hell of a lot of stuff, even if not everything on the list. And now I'm eating some dinner, in spite of the fact that I feel too simultaneously exhausted and keyed up to be hungry. I was on campus for 10 hours today. And there was no fooling around - I worked solidly all that time. Tomorrow promises to be another long day, mostly filled with admin stuff. Let me just state it for the record right now that I'm not doing crap on Friday if I can help it.

In other news, the M-K hates long days like this, and he's been meowing forlornly since my return home. I really feel that he needs a companion of the kitten variety. Ah, perhaps in Spring, the Season of Kittens, his need for companionship will be satisfied.

I want to write something else about something... but I've got nothing. Too pooped to come up with things about which to write. Wish me luck that I'll get my mojo back before tomorrow morning, as the day begins with what promises to be a difficult hour-ish of teaching (squeezing coverage of a whole novel into one class period to make up for weather-related cancellation). And so I say it again: oof.

Only Wednesday?

You'd think I'd not be complaining about that, what with my sweet schedule and all, but as this Wednesday, which promises to be a long one, stretches before me, I'm wishing it were already Thursday. On the agenda for today:

1. Advising appointment with student.
2. Expand lecture notes created yesterday for tomorrow.... indeed, I need to lecture because we're now behind, and in order to catch up, I've got to take the bull by the horns and get us caught up. Discussion is great for many things, but it is not great for catching up a class that is behind.
   
3. Prep for my other class, including some lecture (I know, what's with the lecturing? But this class meets but once a week and if I don't lecture some they flag) as well as activity, discussion questions, etc.
4. Grade worksheets.
5. Mail permissions-related correspondence, as well as complete one of the documents that must be mailed.
6. Research for article, and complete all necessary ILL requests.
7. Correspondence with my two independent study students.
8. Correspondence with my thesis advisee (for indeed, according to my calculations I should be getting some version of a draft today.
9. Faculty meeting.
10. Teach.

And the sick thing is that there are other things I could do in addition to these - this is just the bare minimum of what probably *must* happen today (though in theory I could blow off #s 2 and 6). So if you're wondering why I am not blogging in ways that are substantive, or even interesting, well, there you are.

In other news, you know how I had the whole financial resolution for 2008? Turns out that I can get some cash for developing that online course - fairly substantial cash, though obviously less after taxes. It's kind of amazing to me how opportunities for money keep appearing now that I've finally resolved to get myself out of the credit card debt. It's like a miracle of some kind.

So I suppose that's all for now. Now I must go pack lunch and dinner (ridiculous) and pack my schoolbag and get out of here.

Grading, Done!

Well, the grading is done and the snow has begun. So some thoughts on the grading.

All in all, I'm pleased with what the students did. One student just didn't get what was expected, but I have high hopes that with some coaching this student will do fine as this assignment is repeated throughout the semester. This is why I love this particular assignment. Each individual installment is worth but a tiny portion of the final grade (less than 5%) and so it means that I can give "real" grades with lots of feedback, and as the assignment repeats throughout the semester, the students can improve. If they do, sucking on the first one won't really hurt them at all in the final grade. So they get a sense of my "real" standard, but it doesn't really *hurt* their chances to do well. Also, it means I get to send a message to my stronger students when they turn in sloppy work (as some invariably do, because they forget that what they must do for me is more than they must do in some other contexts). Instead of grading relationally (as in, the stronger ones always get A's because they're so clearly stronger than the others coming in) I can push them harder, again, without it making a substantive difference in their final achievement in the course.

So, this is a small class. I gave a couple of A's, a bunch of B's, a few C's, and only two F's. In all, I'm very happy with the distribution for this first go-around. I'm also happy that they chose to write on different options, which I always think is a really good sign on an assignment like this. It means that they're *thinking* about what they'd like to write about, as opposed to just writing on what they think is "easiest."

The sorts of responses that I received varied a good bit, and there is room for some variation in the assignment, so that ended up being interesting. Some of them are stronger writers than others, and some are clearly far ahead of their classmates in terms of their initial ability to engage with the material. That said, I came away from this first round of grading in there feeling like the course is off to a very good start. Even the weaker ones are grappling with sophisticated questions, and the stronger ones, well, they are very, very strong. Now, I was apprehensive about this course at the outset, and I didn't know how successful I'd be in my context teaching this material, especially having talked with my colleagues who teach a similar course. Let's just say that in reading over the first assignment, I was very pleasantly surprised. Very.

In other news, I also recently graded the first work from my other class, and I had a very similar experience to the one that I outlined above, in which I was pleasantly surprised and also really... just proud of my students for engaging with stuff that's outside of their comfort zones. The more I teach at this institution, the more I admire the students whom I teach and the more that I feel proud to teach them. And the more evidence I see that I'm suited to the kind of teaching that I do. Sure, it's not easy, and sure, I get a good amount of resistance that comes in a variety of forms. But wow. I am just regularly amazed by what my students achieve when I give them the opportunities to do so. Maybe I shouldn't be so amazed, but I mean it in the most absolutely complimentary way possible.

Grading Break

In bullet form, as that will make it seem like I'm being brief :)

• While grading, I'm watching the BAFTA Red Carpet coverage, and Daniel Radcliffe is like the size of an action figure. I mean, he is wee. Wee compared to Ryan Seacrest. I don't know *how* I feel about this.
• My students are so great. I'm reading the first assignments from the class that I don't talk about in specific ways, and while some did better than others, all in all I'm entirely hopeful that a lot of what I'm saying and what they're reading is getting through to them. Hurrah! And they are totally making BRILLIANT points about how students respond to the sort of material that they're seeing (all but two for the first time). I wish I could quote them, but that would be inappropriate. But let me tell ya: love the insights of my students.
• I'm sure you've been wondering about my hair. I mean, I think about it a lot, so you all must think about it from time to time. Well. Lo, months ago, I decided I was growing it out. This is not something I normally decide to do - I'm much too impatient for the growing out of hair under normal circumstances. I'm happy to report that I've finally decided what I'm growing it into. Lengthwise, it's close to this right now. What shall it become? Well. I do believe it shall be this when all is said and done. And indeed, I do believe I will be going just about that blond when summer comes. Ah, the Klum. She is a hair inspiration.
• You know what motivated me to finish my grading tonight? That I'm hoping through the effects of Murphy's Law my finishing it will mean that there will be a snow day tomorrow. I'm so lame.
• Hmmm. There was something else I felt like talking about, but I forget.... Oh YES. That's it. Am I the only person to have been surprised and saddened to realize during the Grammy's last night that Dan Fogelberg had died? How did I miss this news?

And now, the phone is ringing, so I am done :)

Off to the Office

A certain Man-Kitty looks forward to doing some light reading while I'm away. Apparently, he can't get a thing done when I'm hanging around.

In Which I Am a "Unique Snowflake"

Unbelievably, Joseph Kugelmass continues to have a problem with Dr. Crazy. See his most recent comment to this post of long ago. I'm honestly baffled. I left a comment in response (yet to be approved)*** but I'm hoping it puts an end to the matter, which for me was over two full weeks ago, although apparently my pseudonym remains central to the debate. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, is this exasperating.

For the record, looking back over the whole mess, I feel badly about how I initially chose to respond. I think I could have handled things more diplomatically, and I think that I could have kept my temper in check more than I did. And I'm sorry for the role that I played in blowing the whole thing entirely out of proportion. That said? There continues to be little to no self-reflection on the other side about why exactly I responded the way that I did. No acknowledgment that perhaps the tone of how I was addressed might have had something to do with how I responded. That is... disheartening.

I don't see myself (or Dr. Crazy) as a rebel, an eccentric, or a "unique snowflake." I see what I do in my work and what I project outward on this blog as pretty mundane, actually. I'm a teacher and scholar who's trying to negotiate the demands of the business of higher education (the job) with things that are intellectually, ethically, emotionally important to me. What I do, or what I discuss, isn't all that different from what many others do or think about. Through Dr. Crazy, I can give those things a more public voice than I'd otherwise be able to. While that's fun for me, and interesting, and while it's been nice to get to know people through the blog and while it's nice to have an audience for my ideas, I don't see it as particularly special. It's just one more thing that I do. Even if I did see myself as a rebel, eccentric, or unique snowflake, I wouldn't expect people to agree with me without reservation or to defend me on those grounds, which seems to be the implication of comments like this (let alone comments of the "unicorn gumdrop" variety).

And so I'm left to wonder why others seem to think that what I'm doing or thinking is so.... offensive? Controversial? Arrogant? Because the impression I've gotten from this situation, as well as from ones previous, is that what people are most angered by with Dr. Crazy is not actually anything I'm really writing about. It's more the *idea* of Dr. Crazy that incenses people than anything that's actually on this blog. It's the *way* that I choose to write, as opposed to the content of that writing. The voice that I hear coming through is always one that says something like, "How dare you? Who do you think you are?" Not so different from the voice that Lily Briscoe in Woolf's To the Lighthouse imagines saying "Women can't write, women can't paint," when it comes down to it. And that may not really be what's going on, but that's what I perceive as I approach the various conflicts that seem to arise as a result of Dr. Crazy.

But so Dr. Crazy, aka Unique Snowflake (my super-hero identity? nah, Dr. Crazy is more like a super-hero name. Perhaps this is more like my rapper name?), has much to accomplish today in the guise of her Clark Kent "regular person" identity, i.e., she must prep a novel to teach, work on some admin stuff, catch up on some email, do some stuff re: book permissions, and, finally, go in to the office to take care of some business. I know. I'm totally an eccentric and a rebel. It's almost shocking how I live my life on the margins, isn't it? What a polarizing figure I am, and everything. Later, I might do a post about all of the food in my freezer, and maybe post a picture of my cat, if there's time. But for now, more coffee, and then to work.

*** ETA: Originally Kugelmass deleted my comment because in his estimation it was unsubstantive and didn't contribute to the ongoing conversation, but then put it up because of this post. I just want to note that I did not do this post to force his hand into posting my comment, but rather to think about the situation more broadly, as well as to apologize for my role in the blow-up (which I do think I needed to do).

In Which I Wonder Whether Perhaps Things That Are Good Do Come Easily

In my life, I've typically been one of those people who extols the virtues of hard work, claiming that without hard work achievements are not as sweet, blah blah blah. Now, I kind of believe this still, but I've also got a suspicion that perhaps the best things in life actually come really easily, and all it takes is for something to click into place and then the good things just sort of happen. (This is not to say that there is absolutely no effort on one's part, but rather that it doesn't feel like pulling teeth.)

So why am I thinking about this on this Sunday morning as the sun is rising pink in the sky (and is just gorgeous, incidentally)? Well, in part it goes back to a conversation I had with High School BFF last night, in which we were discussing how happy we've both been since the new year, and in part it relates to stepping on the scale today and realizing that even though exercise has been erratic at best because of the Evil Pestilence That Inhabits My Body and Which Prohibits Exercise, I have lost 4 more pounds. This puts me at a total 14 lb. loss since the new year, or an average of just over a couple of pounds a week, which is totally in the range of what it's healthy to lose (esp. given how much I should lose, and I do expect things to slow as I get closer to what doctors would call a healthy weight for me). Now, given the whole Evil Pestilence thing, I've not been in the gym every day or anything like that. Also, my Evil Pestilence has not caused a loss of appetite, so I've been eating like a champ, thanks very much. No, I've lost that weight pretty much as a result of watching what kinds of things I put into my body. And I'll tell you, it hasn't actually been hard.

It's taken effort, yes. It's taken a commitment on my part, yes. But it's been, well, easy. So what have I been doing?

• Whenever I cook something, I take special care to make sure it's really superbly delicious. In other words, I have not eaten a single sad salad or Lean Cuisine since beginning on this path at the new year.
  
• I have, even when I've faltered by going out to dinner or whatever, made sure to drink 48+ oz of water - not juice, not Crystal Light, just plain water - every single day, and I've almost entirely eliminated soda. (I have maybe 1-2 12-oz. Diet Cokes per week as opposed to 1-2 per day. It's kind of like I was little and my mom would let me have pop as a treat only on Friday night.) When you're drinking that much water, you just don't eat as much.
  
• Every time I cook I make sure that what I make gives me multiple servings or that I can turn it into some other dish for multiple servings, so I'm only committed to cooking 2-3 major meals per week. (Because of this, I'm actually not allowed to cook anything this week because my freezer has reached critical mass and until I deplete some of its stores, it will not fit any new dishes.) It is not realistic to think that one will be in the mood to cook something every night of the week, and it's not realistic to think that one won't want things that are quick and easy now and again, so the trick has been to make sure I've got that covered from stuff I myself have made rather than to turn to the outside world when I don't feel like cooking.
• I've made sure to have a range of healthy salty and sweet snacks around so that I'm not tempted when a) I'm at school, where they have vending machines and b) when I'm at the grocery store, where they have lots of delicious treats that are not part of the whole "healthy eating" thing.
  
• Oh, and that reminds me: I do not enter the grocery store without a list, and I stick to the list.
  
• I've limited (though not eliminated) alcohol. I've averaged about a bottle (or two) of wine per week.
  

And that's it, I think. And so I've gotten to enjoy cooking again, I'm eating yummy things, I have more energy (which I actually have come to enjoy), and it's not hard. And the weight is falling off, even though I don't feel deprived. And I'm not, like, weighing my food or anything or tallying up calories for everything I eat - just sticking to stuff that we all know from when we were kids is good for us and eating off smaller plates.

And then I look at my other areas of my life, and I realize all the good stuff there is happening pretty easily, too. Work? Easy. The minute I decided I was just backing off of work and allowing myself to focus on my whole self, I get asked to submit an article to a good journal and I get nominated for an award. All of a sudden work stuff just fell into place. Again, not that I didn't have to exert some effort to set things up for that, but it's not been a struggle. Saving money? Going like gangbusters! (In part because of the cooking for myself, honestly, because as expensive as the grocery store *seems* compared to what I used to spend there, I'm getting a ton more for my money in terms of number of meals and I'm not blowing money on eating out, nor am I letting food just rot in the fridge. Also, I suspect the decreased wine budget may have something to do with the wads of cash that seem to be left over, although I do sometimes think that the cheese budget offsets the savings from the wine budget....) The way things are feeling with various relationships, etc.? Totally easy! Like as soon as I decided not to push and push and push and just to accept things for what they are, all things became satisfactory. (This is not to say that all things became "normal" or "real" however.... just that I'm not a freaked out mess in the way that I was, say, last fall, and I'm pleased that things are the way they are.)

All of this is far to Zen for my normal way of thinking, but I'm coming to think that perhaps things that one has to push so hard for or struggle so hard to achieve actually suck and that they aren't really worth doing. Sort of like when one is involved with somebody romantically and it's always constant "working on the relationship" - dude, at a certain point, that means that the relationship just sucks - otherwise it wouldn't need so much work. What if that's true in all areas? And if it is, doesn't that take a lot of pressure off of us, because then we can say, "Hey, this just sucks and it's not worth all this energy, or it would be easier," and then we can move on to invest our energy and commitment in things that feel more organic instead of trying to fit our square selves into round holes or something? So this is my thinking on this Sunday morning.

Hee! I just realized that I probably should have titled this post "Easy Like Sunday Morning." Admission: this song is actually my favorite Lionel Ritchie song ever, and it has been since I was a tiny child.

What Makes a Good Dissertation Director?

I've been watching the train wreck going on over at Anastasia's with horror and sympathy, and it's got me feeling... grateful... for my dissertation director. Now the point of this post is not to say, "Oh, Anastasia's got her situation all wrong! People who direct dissertations are great!" Rather, I suppose it's to offer a version of what *good* mentorship (though not without its snags and conflicts) looked like throughout my dissertation process. I feel like I might have done a post about this at some point, but I can't find it, so here it goes. And if this can be a service to somebody who's early enough in the process that it makes a difference, rock on. (Lots of times I know that what undergrads thinking of grad school and/or people early in the process see about grad school or the profession on blogs is pretty darned bleak, and so every now and again I think it's good to recount the positive along with some practical advice. This isn't to gloss over the bleak parts, but an attempt to present one story that is perhaps less bleak than what people see elsewhere.)

Now, before I can begin, I should note that I've not got a warm and fuzzy friendship sort of relationship with my diss director. I do think that he's grown to respect me, but we're in no way close. He wasn't the sort who organized panels with his grad students for conferences, and he's never come to hear me give a paper when he's been someplace where I've been giving one. We've never shared a meal together. We don't "keep in touch" other than the emails that I send him to update him on my activities. As far as I can tell, he's not terribly interested in me. I think he's happy I've done ok, but I am nowhere near the apple of his teaching eye (if anybody is). At least this is my perception.

I note that this is my perception because I think "perception" plays a big role in how we work with our chosen dissertation directors, and those perceptions can either enable or hinder the process of dissertating. So here's the thing: I knew that I would work well with somebody who wasn't terribly nurturing (in a "oh, this sentence you wrote is so lovely!" sort of a way) and in fact that I'd probably do better with a person who was a bit of a meanie (or whom I could construct as such, for actually, in real life, my diss director - Director from this point forward - is a lovely man). See, I don't do terribly well with a lot of warm and fuzzy stuff. Blame it on my Tough Love Variety of mother, blame it on my absent biological father, whatever. I'm sure we could psychoanalyze my choice of Director the live-long day. But the point is, I did have a good sense of what sort of personality would mesh with my work habits, which require a bit of feeling like I've got a really high standard that I must meet and a dash of deep guilt about not meeting my potential. How did I know that Director could produce this?

Well, I think I was certain when I received a seminar paper back from him with his comments, a paper on which I received an A but the comments for which made me cry. I'm a cry-baby and I suck with criticism. That said, his criticisms? They were *specific* and *extensive* and *right*. The comments were not all negative, but the negatives *stung* because they demonstrated that he saw through my attempts to dazzle and confuse. They hit where it hurt most, and yet were also constructive. To be honest, the constructive bits hurt most because I saw where I could have done so much better. Anybody who makes me feel all that with one page of typed comments? Yeah, that's a person for whom I can go above and beyond in the work that I do. And that was why I chose my field of specialty (I was wavering between 2 or 3 adjacent ones) and why I asked him to direct my dissertation.

Now, as you might imagine, Director has a strong personality. He is not the director for everyone. (Indeed, nearly everyone in my cohort couldn't believe that I had chosen him to direct me, for he's a bit terrifying with the brilliance and everything.) But I knew that I'd push myself for him. And I needed a director who would serve in that capacity. And Director did serve in that capacity (and indeed, continues to do so as a a figure that I now produce in my imagination) brilliantly.

Now, the course of my dissertation did not run entirely smoothly. For a full year Director was on sabbatical and half of that time was in Europe and not available to meet and barely available to read anything. (Actually, I can't remember whether he read anything during that period. I feel like he may not have done.) And then there was the full year that I was not in residence and we conducted all of our business but for one meeting long-distance - the last year of the dissertation, when I wrote 2/3 of it and when I revised the whole shebang three times. And before the second of the three revisions, we had a show-down in which he threatened to drop me as his advisee (though I believe that was a calculated thing on his part now, and it resulted in a tearful apology on my part and all was well). So I'm not saying that everything was all sunshine and roses. I don't think the dissertation process is generally that for most people. It's a grueling thing to undertake, and that means lots of stress and some conflict may come with the territory.

But, throughout all of it, I knew he wanted me to finish. I knew he wanted me not only to finish but also to do the best work of which I was capable. I trusted his judgment about my work, and the reason that I trusted that judgment was because he was such a careful reader of my work, even if he wasn't the most hands-on of presences throughout the process. And, in truth, I think he might have been as hands-off as he was because I work really well independently. (At one point I remember him saying to me that he didn't need to give me a schedule or put any more pressure on me because he knew I already put infinitely more pressure on myself. And it was true: I already had a schedule devised, and I was very... well, I was a bit of a nag with him about keeping me on task, if that makes any sense. So one thing that occurs to me now, years out of the process, is that his approach to me as an advisee may not have been solely about who he is as a person but about what he knew I needed from a dissertation director. Not the same thing. But at the time, I thought he was just a bit cruel :) I needed him to be a monster, and, well, he was one, whether by my invention or by his own inclination or perhaps a bit of both.)

But so, ok. So I finished. And with what I think was the best dissertation I could have written. And that dissertation was good enough for it to be translatable into a publishable book manuscript even with me on a 4/4 load. And so I'd say there had to have been some good mentorship for that to have happened. I also think that what good mentorship I got did have something to do with me and the fact that I knew what I needed from a mentor. So let's get on to the practical part of this post.

What did I bring to the table?

1. I knew what kind of guidance I'd need from the primary person on my committee. I knew what sort of person I could do the best work for, and I chose that sort of person. I did not choose a person based on field alone, but rather thought about the choice of field and choice of director - and later choice of topic - as all of one piece. I think that really helped me.
2. I'm very self-directed and self-motivated, and I chose a person to work with who would inspire those qualities in me, sometimes with positive reinforcement and sometimes with tactics that at the time seemed harsh but for which I am now grateful (especially as it's those moments that I remember when I read some reader's report that's less than kind, and I realize that I can handle that with ease).
3. I was very direct throughout the process about what I needed. This would not have been possible, though, if I didn't feel comfortable with my director and how he'd respond to such directness.

What made Director great?

1. From the beginning, he was incredibly clear about his expectations. He did not mince words. He didn't try to save my feelings. And sure, that wasn't always easy, but I always knew what I was supposed to be doing.
2. He was very clear about how he was going to facilitate the process. He saw everything that I wrote first. He was in close contact with the other members of my committee, and when part of the whole was ready, he directed me to send it to them. I also get the impression that he then communicated with them about what kinds of comments they should give to the draft, for when I got comments, they were not in contradiction to his, but rather addressed things that he did not spend as much time on. So, for example, Director's comments were always global in nature - about the broad sweep of ideas and argument and the theory- second reader's comments were always rooted mostly in pragmatic concerns about writing as well as about sources that I should consult - and when the outside reader came in, those comments were directed toward "revisions for the book." This is not to say that there weren't tensions between sets of comments at times - there were - but at the same time, those tensions were not difficult to resolve, and it was always clear which comments carried the most weight.
3. He was the director that I needed him to be. He played the heavy when necessary; he was kind when necessary. The point always, though, was to facilitate me getting the thing done and done well. It was never about him.

And so, no, the process of dissertating was not all rainbows and unicorns for me, but in the end, it made me a confident and competent scholar. Without a good director, I don't know that would have been my experience. And to some extent, I've got to admit that I was lucky that I was able to choose a good director, as it's not like anybody really gives one good advice about how to do that or what one should look for. I have a lot of friends who sort of ended up working with somebody based on what they felt like writing about, or who ended up working with somebody who was all glowy glowy about their work in seminars and then it didn't go so smoothly during the dissertation process, or who ended up getting stuck with advisors who didn't really want them and whom they didn't really want because their first picks took other jobs or who had too many students or whatever. So it's not like what I write about here is some sort of one-size-fits-all model for choosing a director, because what I outlined might not work for everybody, or even if it would, the best laid plans sometimes don't amount to a hill of beans. But it's worth talking about this stuff I think, if only to begin a conversation about what goes into making what is ultimately a really pivotal career decision.

Wow. *LOVE* It When I Figure Things Out in My Sleep

So, I've been dreaming an awful lot lately. Not bad dreams, really, but weird dreams and vivid dreams, and dreams I've been remembering. Now, I think this is actually a really good thing, related to the fact that I'm eating well and (when not sniffling) working out (and not drinking alcohol regularly). But so anyway, the dreams.

I'm not going to tell you in detail about them, because it's boring to read about other people's dreams. Suffice it to say that I had a series of dreams before waking up this morning. To the naked eye, these dreams were unrelated. One appeared superficially to be about FB; one appeared to be about my parents (and my mom specifically); and the last one appeared to be about work.

Turns out, my friends, that ALL of the dreams were about work. It seems that in my dream about work, I brought all of the pieces of the other dreams together. I just spent the past 20 minutes sketching out exactly what I'm going to do in the article I'm writing, linking it to what I discussed in the MLA paper, and figuring out why it's important both in terms of what I've said before about aesthetics for women writers as well as in terms of how we talk about the writers I discuss in terms of literary period. Yep, all that, in 20 minutes. And from a freaking dream. (Well, or the dream helped to bring it together. I'm going to admit that I've been thinking a lot about this stuff, and generally right before bed, all week long, so the dream was the result of much labor on my part, and yes, I really do believe that considering such things in a meditative way before going to sleep does help one resolve them, which is a bit hippy dippy for my taste, but if it works I'm willing to overlook it.)

So, the sunshine is shining brightly, I'm filled with lots of ideas, and I am hoping to get solidly to work on some of the article things, now that I know where I'm heading with it. Hooray for dreams that are productive!!!!

Some More Random Bullets

• Why do I hate making appointments so much? It's a real problem. Like, I despise scheduling appointments. I'm fine with going to appointments, but the *scheduling* just sucks.
  Actually, I feel the same way about buying plane tickets.
• Mr. Man-Kitty was very interested in the fixing of the sink-clog, and he may have a future in plumbing. (He wanted me to tell you that he is a) very inquisitive and b) has a range of interests, including an interest in becoming more "handy" around the house.) I'd have taken a picture of him watching the maintenance guy work his magic, but it's weird to take pictures of one's cat when somebody is in the house doing repairs.
  
• It's really sunny and kind of warm today. This makes me want to be lazy. Similarly, cold, dreary days make me want to be lazy. I think I may just be a lazy person. (And yes, I'm telling myself I'm lazy to try to inspire at least a little productivity this afternoon. It may or may not be successful.)
  

RBOC: I Am Boring Edition

What's been going on with me? Oh, it's scintillating, let me tell you.

• I'm still sick, though seemingly improving? At this point I don't know whether I've got a new cold, a lingering cold, a horrible chronic condition that will never leave me. I'm hoping it goes away though.
• So, Valentine's Day's coming up. Now, I think it's lame to be all "I am wearing black on Valentine's day and comforting my lonely self with bitterness" but nonetheless, it's stinky when one doesn't have a Valentine. I've decided my solution to this problem this year is that I'm going to make a person be my Valentine against his will, although it will also be made clear that he's only my fake Valentine so he shouldn't take himself too seriously. Not sure if bullying a person into being my Valentine is a positive, but what's a single girl to do otherwise, if she's feeling like she'd like a Valentine? And besides, it's kind of a compliment to be chosen in this way, I think. I mean, really. Isn't that what Valentine's day was all about in, say, 3rd grade? Indeed.
• Lots of stuff going on re: work that is unbloggable. Not bad, just political, and I'm sort of involved in it. It's more annoying than anything.
• I've got much to do today, including the making of appointments and calling the maintenance people to fix my kitchen sink/garbage disposal (don't ask) and cleaning my bathroom, etc. Need I note that all I *want* to do is to lie around? I really need a personal assistant/maid.
  

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

Ok, so you'd think, what with my new attention to eating healthily and with re-incorporating exercise and stuff that I'd be feeling great. And that was true for like 2 weeks in January. But other than that, I've been bogged down with the dumbest head cold in the whole world, compounded by stupid weather-related fluctuations that are making my sinuses revolt in my head. Grrr.

And so between that and the attempt to do the 4000 things that I've got on my plate this semester, I've felt like I'm scrambling whenever I've got enough energy to do anything, and other than that I feel like all I have the energy to do is to sleep. I know, poor me, blah blah blah.

But so today I've got to be on campus from 10 AM until 7:30, in a day that is filled with meetings, primarily. I got the first papers to be graded in yesterday, and tomorrow I'm starting Difficult Novel in my one class, which does not please me, even though it seemed like such an excellent idea to put it on the syllabus once upon a time.

Whine, whine, whine.

I was trying to think of something to report that did not include whining, but tragically, my only register today is whining.

Solipsism

I just woke up from a dream in which I was talking to somebody about a dream that I had in which they appeared. It is pathetic when one is talking about one's dreams in one's dreams. That is all.

(It is a rainy Monday, and I have much to do. Sigh.)

Getting off to a Slow Start

How is it already quarter after 1? I certainly don't know where the day is getting to. On the agenda for the day (and yes, I'm writing this here so that I actually do these things, for apparently I am not accountable to myself):

• Grocery store
• Gym (for the first time in 2 weeks! I think the cold is finally beaten - knock wood, etc.)
• Research Project assignment for one class
  
• Catch up on some email
• Prep for the other class
• Make at least one of the three dishes that I've got planned for the week, if not two. The third has to be made tomorrow.

So, you may be wondering how the fitness, finances, and fun resolutions are going. Well, even if you're not, I'm going to tell you anyway. As far as I'm concerned, they're going fabulously. Admittedly the "fun" one is in a bit of a hibernation mode, but that has as much to do with the season as it does to do with anything else. I figure when spring comes there will be time enough for fun. But that's not really true, actually, as I have been having a good deal of fun, it's just at home sort of fun moreso than social sort of fun. This is because I am not motivated to leave my house when it's gross outside. But I have high hopes that when the weather turns I will incorporate the social fun. As for the finances, well, I updated you on that on Friday. The fitness, in spite of the two week sabbatical from working out, goes well. I'm so happy that I'm finally cooking for myself again! I make delicious and nutritious food! One thing I've realized is that I don't ever want to cook on the days that I teach (which may have been part of the problem when I was teaching five days a week). So what I've done is I've gotten myself into a habit of going to the grocery store on the weekend and making two or three meals between saturday and sunday. Then, in the middle of the week, I'm all set and I don't need to cook NOR do I fall into the trap of eating garbage. It's really something. On the menu this week are three beef dishes (I'm sick of chicken at the moment). Depending on what looks good (and is on sale) at the grocery store, I will make either a small roast or a big steak with veggies for dinner tonight (yum). Then, with what's left, I will make two other things: 1) a thai-influenced beef and rice thing (that originated from some recipe or other a few years ago) and 2) vegetable-beef soup. Between that and all of the stuff in my freezer (chili, a chicken stir-fry, and who knows what else) I have lots of variety and all of my choices are yummy yummy).

But so yeah, that's really all I've got to report. I've been reading for the article (though it's been the fun part of the reading - as I've decided that I'm going to talk about a couple of novels that didn't appear in the original conference paper), thinking about how excited I am to be doing this article, even though I had thought I needed a break from research stuff, and yeah, that's about it. Oh, and playing on the computer and thinking about teaching and stuff. And I did go out to dinner on Friday night, too. So yeah, that's the latest. And now it's time for me to force myself out of my house or I'll never leave.

Access to Theory

Note: I'm playing around in this post, and one thing that's going to involve is me doing some structural things that might be annoying - like having multiple introductions. There actually is a point to it, but I figured I'd warn you in any case, because typically I tend to be more straight-forward in my ramblings.

Anastasia had a couple of posts a few days ago, in which I should note that she wasn't talking about theory explicitly, but rather about how her educational background prior to her grad program has left her with lingering insecurities and doubts about her ability to "belong" in academia (and Anastasia, feel free to jump in if that distillation of what you wrote about isn't accurate). Between that and the hullabaloo of last week (to which I will not link, as if you don't know what I'm talking about you probably don't want to know) and then the material that I was teaching in my one class, I've been thinking a lot, first about what it means to enter into academic discourse and second about who has the authority to speak in that discourse (which actually brings Pierre Bourdieu to mind, particularly what he has to say in Language and Symbolic Power about the production and reproduction of "legitimate" language.... at which I just took a brief glance, which has my notes from when I read it in graduate school, which I suspect many readers might find interesting given my arguments about the potential for class mobility, as apparently my positions were comfortably in line 10 years ago with the ones that I've developed and have today.) There's a reason I just did that name-dropping thing, and a reason why I did it parenthetically in the precise way that I did it. But I'll get to that later.

So there is the first introduction for this post. Now I'm going to offer a second introduction. It takes a certain kind of student to choose to attend a college or university with an actively crappy reputation (and when I'm talking about reputation here I'm not talking about U.S. News and World Report, where such schools tend either not to be ranked or to rank so low on the list that nobody thinks to consult U.S. News when choosing them). Such institutions often have funny names or catch phrases that locals use when describing them, like "Can't read? Can't Write? Blank State," or "No Education University." You might think that it takes a student who couldn't get in anyplace better to choose a school that is widely known (among everybody, even those who themselves have not finished college) for its lack of rigor, but if you think so, you clearly *don't* understand where some (not all) students are coming from in making their decision about where to attend college. And so this is the second introduction, which may not seem to have anything to do with the first on the surface, but I promise, I am going someplace with this.

And now a third introduction. I do theoretically oriented criticism in my own scholarship, but I don't use literature to demonstrate theories. What do I mean? Well, for me, literary criticism begins with the literary text. When I use theory, I use it to help illuminate my understanding (and I hope others' understanding) of the literature, as opposed to the converse operation, in which one uses literature to illuminate a theoretical approach or ethical concern. In other words, what I do more than anything is *practical* literary criticism that is rooted in close reading of literature. And what I'm interested in doing in my scholarly work is not anything more or less than in finding new ways to think about whatever literary text it is that I am examining in a given moment. I would never call myself a cultural critic (although obviously what I might say may suggest cultural critique), and I do not think of myself as a "theorist." I don't *do* theory: I *use* theory. Some would say that this violates the spirit of how theory should be engaged, that it shouldn't be "applied." Now, I would agree that one shouldn't just overlay theory onto a literary text, but I think that this divide demonstrates a real divide in literary scholarship. And I know people who use literature to understand theory, and they do interesting work, so I'm not saying that one is better than the other, but rather just trying to describe my own relationship to theory. Another divide that I think my approach to theoretically oriented criticism may illuminate is that some people who do literary criticism think that literary criticism has activist potential, and I just don't, or, perhaps more generously, the only thing that I think literary criticism does is potentially offer new way of reading literary texts, and that's all I aim to do when I do literary criticism. I do not aim to change the way that people think about bigger theoretical or ethical issues. If that is one result, grand, I suppose, but it's not how I conceive the purpose of the criticism that I do. So if somebody reads an article I write or my book or whatever, the only result for which I hope is that they come away thinking about the literature differently.

The fourth (and last) introduction: I tend to approach literary criticism from a feminist theoretical perspective, which probably isn't exactly a news flash, but whatever. Now, to do so is an inherently political project, which may seem to contradict what I said above about the way that I situate myself as a theoretically oriented literary critic. The politics of choosing to situate oneself within feminist theory are complicated, precisely because it requires that the critic negotiate a difficult terrain between insider status (as a woman in the academy, I am on the inside, and there's nothing particularly radical about doing feminist theory in the academy or about identifying oneself as a feminist in the academy) and outsider status (as somebody doing criticism from a feminist theoretical position, I do think that one of the challenges is to try to imagine and practice a critical language that refuses or attempts to refuse to reproduce certain systemic hierarchies). If one "does" feminist theory without thinking about how doing so can serve to perpetuate those hierarchies, or if one fails to come to terms with her insider status even as she challenges the status quo, I believe that results in bad criticism.

So what do these four disparate introductions have to do with the larger topic of "access to theory," you may be wondering? Well, to me, the first two introductions hint toward a consideration of who, in terms of real people in the real world, is awarded a VIP Pass that gives them access to theory, and who has the moxie to use that pass in order to get attention (much in the way of Rock of Love II). See, not everybody gets the pass (though luckily the pass isn't dependent on having lips that make one look like this). Students at different kinds of universities* receive very different introductions to the world of theory. For example, my introduction was a one semester literary criticism course in which we spent approximately 75% of the semester covering Aristotle through New Criticism. This was in the early- to mid- 1990s people. When I entered graduate school, I'd never *heard* of Derrida. In other words, when I entered graduate school, I was the equivalent of Kristy Joe. And the Destiny types of the world used their VIP passes right when I thought it was my turn to shine. I was out of my depth. And my instructors, I think, thought that this signified a lack of sophistication on my part (in fact, they said so) rather than a lack of experience. And it was on me to learn, independently, how to read this stuff and to talk about it in ways that didn't out me as stupid. Luckily, I am bizarrely overconfident when presented with such challenges, so it didn't occur to me what a difficult thing that would be to do. And so I did it. And obviously I came out on the other side.

Now, you may be thinking that surely students today, regardless of institution, don't face these same barriers. I mean, it's over 30 years since, for example, the English translation of Of Grammatology was published. Surely everybody has "access to theory" now. If you think that, you are wrong. At my current institution, students have, as I did, just one, one-semester theory requirement, and it is rare that they are exposed to theory in contexts other than in that course. (To be fair, this course does a better job of exposing them to theories from 1960 onward, and it does not take on the History of Thought from Aristotle to the Present.) While there is a topics course in which students can study theory, it is rare that the course is offered because it counts only as an elective and fulfills no other requirements in the major, which means it rarely will make the minimum enrollment in order to "go." And so when the best students from my institution are admitted into graduate programs, whether in literature or in writing or whatever, they often return to tell us, their mentors, that they are entirely at sea. And yet, there are people in my department who are shocked when they hear those reports. There are people who think that we shouldn't even require the one Survey of Theory course.

Now what does it mean if students don't get access to theory as undergraduates? Is it really such a big deal? I would say it's a big deal on two levels. First, it's a big deal because the jargon of this discipline, the specialized language that we use to discuss literary texts, is theoretical. If one has not been exposed to that language, entering a classroom where it is engaged can be like entering a class where everybody else is speaking, say, French, and you only know English. This is profoundly alienating and intimidating. (Note: for the bulk of majors, this is not a major issue, as they do not go on to graduate school. So I'm not saying all majors need the theoretical language for discussing literary texts for their future professional or personal lives. That said, if at least a handful are going on each year from our programs to graduate school, we do them a disservice if we ignore the need. Moreover, there is a benefit even for those who will not go on to have been introduced to theory and given access to it, as I do think that it can change the way that we perceive the world around us in ways that are positive. In other words, the "necessity" argument is not all here, as it's also not "necessary" to read Wordsworth's Prelude but that doesn't mean we can't get something out of doing so.) The second reason it's a big deal, and I would say this is for all majors regardless of grad school ambitions, is it means that they're not learning how to engage theoretical, critical, and literary texts simultaneously in their writing, which I think constitutes a major cognitive leap from writing your basic 8-10 page research paper or a traditional 3-5 page analysis essay. In other words, they are not getting an equivalent education to students at more elite institutions. They are not being taught to think in ways that are as sophisticated; they are not being taught certain procedures for integrating disparate kinds of complex material and for producing a coherent whole. Nor are they equipped to interpret what's going on when others do that very thing. This is a liability.

This liability can color the way that one is perceived in the broader world. It can make a person appear to be "stupid" or at the very least lacking in sophistication. And this brings us back to choice of university: why would a student choose a university that is known for its lack of academic rigor? Does that signify "stupidity"? Actually, I think the answer to this is quite similar to what I'm discussing when I talk about access to theory. Students who could do better who choose this sort of university do so because they have not been acculturated to the language of prestige and they make their choice about where to attend school based on other criteria than quality of education. They assume that they'll do just fine choosing the school that's closer to home, that costs less money, that isn't intimidating. I mean, they'll come out with a college degree at the end, right? What's the difference? So what we're talking about here isn't stupidity. It's inexperience. And ultimately, students who make those choices can be penalized for that inexperience. (And this is only if we're talking about traditionally aged college students without other life issues that might structurally prohibit them from going to a "better" university. Students with children, for example, often are in a position where they truly *can't* make another choice, and so if they do not have access, it is because there are very real impediments to access that they have no hope of negotiating.)

But so one of the things that I'm committed to doing at my job is to try to offer my students access to theory, inasmuch as this is possible within the constraints of the curriculum, student expectations, and my other teaching responsibilities. And as I've been teaching one course in particular this semester, I've been thinking a lot about what it means that these students are gaining access to theory through me. We're solidly underway now, and many of the students are frustrated. They are frustrated because they feel like they have no idea what is going on in the reading. They are frustrated with the jargon - "why can't they just spit it out?" - and they are frustrated with the elitism - "where are real people in all of this?" - and they are frustrated with the complexity of the structures of the pieces that they are reading and with the discursive frame that determines (overdetermines?) what they are reading. And these are legitimate criticisms (at least I think so), but the students are feeling stripped of authority, as if they must not be getting something if they are so resistant and if they feel so lost. What's most interesting about this is the fact that all of these "theories" that they are reading are loosely about authorizing voices that don't normally get heard. But because the theories are being articulated in "legitimate language," students are experiencing these theories that are so invested in empowerment (and the institutionalization of empowering theories) as ultimately stripping them of their subjective agency. Ah, theory is not for the faint of heart.

So where do I fit into all of this? Well, as a student I struggled with these same difficulties, though for the most part I went it alone in that struggle. So a lot of what I've been doing as a teacher is supporting them through their resistance and their anxiety, doing my best to make the class a safe space to express such things. I've also been trying to respond to their criticisms as best I can, and to try to situate those criticisms within broader debates within the discipline. And when they ask a question about where I stand on a particular issue, I've done my best to give straight answers as opposed to obfuscating and turning the questions back around on them, which is a technique I found disturbing when I myself was in their position.

Am I succeeding? Too soon to tell. I am providing them with "access to theory," broadly speaking, in that I've assigned them theoretical texts to read. But more specifically, "access to theory" isn't just about putting the texts in front of them. It's also about, more specifically, attempting to give them access to theoretical language and structures of argument, and this project is somewhat contradictory, both for them and for me. Because see, as someone who positions herself as a feminist, isn't the point that we value a multiplicity of voices, of ways of making meaning, of ways of expressing the meaning that we make? I'd say it is. Except it isn't. Because if you can't speak in the "legitimate language" then you don't get heard. And so what a lot of the reading thus far in the course does is it attempts to argue against theoretical discourse that ultimately performs in ways that are exclusive, elitist, and marginalizing even as it uses that very discourse in which to do so. As you might imagine, the students, they are not fans of this approach.

To be honest, I'm not a fan of this approach. Even though, as a graduate student, I was intrigued (as I wrote in the margins of my copy of Language and Symbolic Power) about the potential to use " 'legitimate' language for other (illegitimate) ends," I wonder now about how such attempts make us complicit in a system that is profoundly conservative in the way that it authorizes some voices and silences others, in the way that it accords value to some subject positions and marginalizes others. One of the things that I found most troubling about the hullabaloo of last week was the way that certain kinds of support for arguments were privileged over other kinds, as if quoting from a literary text was more authoritative than citing personal experience, for example. As if one form of argument were "objective" - and thus "true" - and another form was "subjective" or personal - and thus in error. Ultimately, this had little to do with the actual positions that were being espoused. Rather, it was about reifying one kind of discourse and excluding another, valuing one kind of discourse as legitimate and dismissing the other as being merely "the tyranny of personal experience."

In this post that I'm now about to conclude (and I'm sure you're thinking, "finally!"), you will notice that I've referred parenthetically or obliquely to theoretical texts, but I've not cited any. This has been intentional. What I'm playing with is the idea that while theory does give us access to new ways of thinking, for I couldn't have written this post without being theoretically engaged, it may not authorize our opinions. Perhaps, it is possible, that authorization depends not on what one can cite or how often or how compellingly, but rather how one can engage with theory while maintaining a voice that stands outside of the totalizing procedures of academic discourse. The problem with that, though, is that things like tenure, or passing one's dissertation defense, or getting an article published depend on being able to enter into that academic discourse. Only on a blog, where I don't write with my professional name, do I get to experiment in the way that I've done in this post. Perhaps if I were a superstar of some kind that wouldn't be true, but from where I stand in the hierarchy, the fact of the matter is that I have to talk the talk in order to be taken seriously and for my work to get an audience.

But so I started thinking about this post last night, as I was rereading Gayatri Spivak's In Other Worlds: Essays in Cultural Politics, thinking that it might be useful for the article I'm apparently writing. It was published 20 years ago, and yet, as I read, I came across a passage, in an article from 1980 no less, that really was the inspiration for this post. And so, in closing, I'll leave you with it. I'm not sure that it really serves as an adequate ending, but it is, nevertheless, where I'll end:

"The fiction of mainstream literary criticism - so generally "masculist" that the adjective begins to lose all meaning (on this level of generality you could call it 'capitalist,' 'idealist,' or 'humanist,' as long as you show how) - is that rigorous readings come into being in a scientific field, or in the field of legalistic demonstration of validity. The other view, coming from a mind-set that has been systematically marginalized, may just as well be called "feminist": that the production of public rigor bears the strategically repressed marks of the so-called 'private' at all levels. [. . .] Women must tell each other's stories, not because they are simpleminded creatures, but because they must call into question the model of criticism as neutral theorem or science." (16)

*I actually revised this statement as I thought it through in response to comments from readers. I *should* have written that this varies depending on *specific institutional context*, though I do think the underlying *reasons* for why some students get theory and others don't vary by *kind* of institution. For a deeper discussion of this, do check out the comment thread.

Still Basking in the Glow

Well, I'm still basking in the glow of the great day that was yesterday, and so far today I've accomplished some follow-up correspondence related to permissions stuff and paid bills. The bill-paying was, for the first time in a long time, not a stressful ordeal, because it turns out the whole financial resolutions for the new year have resulted in taking some of the stress out of the process. Looking over the credit card situation, I suspect that I'll have one card paid off by summer. The second card I should be able to get paid off by fall. That just leaves the one with the highest balance, and IF summer teaching works out, I should be able to get that paid off by January. If summer teaching doesn't work out, well, the goal to get out of credit card debt will not be achieved this year. However, I will be MUCH closer to being credit-card-debt-free, and will definitely be able to accomplish that by 2010. Something about taking control of this has actually made me feel much less stressed about money, and I actually feel like I've got *more* money than when I was ignoring the debt situation, even though I technically have less cash to spend.

In other news, I feel compelled to spread the word that The Potato (love of my life) is a gateway drug and is very dangerous indeed. After the delicious soup of yesterday afternoon, I felt totally sluggish and decided to take a late-afternoon nap. During this nap, I had a lengthy dream that entirely consisted of me deep-frying things. In the dream, I cheffed up some onion rings, some *deep-fried pizza* (which really seemed like quite a wonderful dream-invention, but then I told somebody about the dream who claimed to have eaten this marvelous thing and that it was awesome), and homemade old-fashioned donuts. (I should note I've never actually cooked any of these things myself. I do think it's a good sign that in the dream I didn't actually eat any of what I was cooking.) I woke up thinking that I might lose my mind and eat my weight in crap, but thankfully I had no crap in the house and so the whole episode passed without me going way off track. But what this tells me is that I must be very careful of The Potato. I think it's impossible for me to be a social or casual user. Indeed, my name is Dr. Crazy, and I am addicted to potatoes.

So that's my report on this Friday. It's a gray and gloomy day, and I'm considering whether I should try to do some more work or whether I should take to my bed with the kitty-cat and a book. A third option would be to see if I can get in to get a trim for my bangs. We shall see.