Meow! You've Been Ignoring Me!

Wanna know what the Man-Kitty's been up to? I know you do! Well. He's been quite busy. First of all, there's running around like crazy every evening when I come home, which generally includes some leaping on to the back of his purple chair.




There is also a lot of lounging next to his food, looking at me as if to say, "Excuse me, but why don't I get the yummy wet food all the time? Why must I also have the dry?"



Finally, the Little Man also enjoys hanging out in paper bags.



Perhaps more pics after the Weekend Without Other People?

TGIF (as My Mother Would Say - No, Really, She Does Say That!)

But seriously, I am so totally glad that this week is over. It's not that it was a terrible week - it wasn't - but both this and last week have been very packed with meetings, and I am sick of people. Now, this madness continues next week because I'm having conferences with my freshmen, but I'm choosing not to focus on that right now. Rather, I'm choosing to focus on the fact that because it's conference week I will have a 3-day weekend, and I fully intend to spend that weekend blissfully out of contact with other human beings. Well, I'll probably talk on the phone. But other than that I just want to be by myself. All of this personal attention to others is d-r-a-i-n-i-n-g.

But last night, a friend of mine said something that kind of bugged me - that having taken on this quasi-admin thing is actually more work than just teaching a class - and it made me question whether I'm doing what I should be doing, etc., but then it just kind of made me pissed off, because I don't actually think that the friend is right overall.

The past two weeks definitely have been more work than if I were just teaching a class. BUT. All of that work has not been related to the quasi-admin position. Part of the work has to do with stuff I'm doing for our majors (priority registration for fall is beginning, and because I'm a good advisor, lots of my advisees like to come in and get advice - because I like advising, I make a big effort to give these students time); I've got a really great class of freshmen this semester, and this means that I've met with probably about a third of them even though it's not been required over the past week or two to look at drafts of the paper that they're turning in today (and honestly, I'd much rather meet with them ahead of time than read utter garbage come next week); I was teaching a novel I'd not read in at least 7 years; I had a couple of job apps to send out; and I completed a fucking book proposal!!! I mean, isn't it obvious that the quasi-admin position isn't the only thing I've got going on?

But let me stop the justifying and just think about the work that the quasi-admin position has required. In some ways, it has been easier than teaching. There are weeks that have gone by where very little has been required of me. There is no grading. There is no prep.

On the other hand, the person with whom I'm working (and who is kind of the boss of me), seems to be giving others the impression that I'm his "assistant," which is fine until he starts trying to delegate work to me that I don't want to do. I like that I'm not directly responsible for anything in this program, or in any kind of limelight, but I do not want to be the person who gets dumped on behind the scenes. I fear that this is my future if I stick with this position beyond May. Also, while there is no prep and no grading, there are a LOT of face-to-face meeting with people, which is so exhausting. Part of the reason it's exhausting is because I give a lot to each meeting, which I think means I'm doing my job well, but at the end of the day I just don't want to interact with humans. I'm not sure if that's positive.

At any rate, though, I'm ambivalent about the quasi-admin position at the moment, and I wonder if I will decide to keep it after this year, should I stay at my job. I don't want to teach a 4/4, but perhaps since I've had this 2-semester break from teaching comp, I can somehow work it, if I add my fourth class back in, to make it a service-lit course? I don't know. What I'm hoping for is for a truly lower teaching load. If I stay here, new people in power are committed to moving us to a 3/3. This would be an improvement, but I'm under no illusions that such a transition will mean less work - I suspect other garbage will get added on if it ever happens. On top of this, there's a lot of drama going on within my department, and I'm exhausted by even thinking about all of it, so maybe a lower teaching load wouldn't at all help with the overwhelming nature of my job?

And then, there is a little voice that whispers in my ear that maybe I won't need to decide anything related to the above. Not if I got a different job. I could leave the 4/4 load, the quasi-admin position, the departmental drama, the battles between our department and other arms of the university all behind.

Now, I'm no fool. A new job will have its things, too. No job is perfect. But, Christ, I work really hard. And you know what? A lot of the work I do isn't particularly fulfilling to me. It just takes my time and energy. It would be nice, if I am going to remain a workaholic, if I was at least doing work that is interesting and important to me a bit more of the time.

On Being Crazy

Bitch Ph.D. has a post today about her pseudonym/blog title and the project of claiming the word "bitch" or reclaiming it or whatever (in response to a message from a reader). Since the awesome B. linked to me (thanks for the shout-out, B.!) I felt like I should do some sort of a post that might in some way respond to the conversation going on over there and also that might help any readers of hers who head on over here and who don't know my blog (hello readers of Bitch Ph.D.!) understand why B. refers to me as a "like-minded bitchy academic [woman]," as if you just glanced at recent posts you might think, "what the hell? That Crazy's no bitch!" (in either the positive or negative sense - doesn't really matter which).

Now, B. and I started blogging within a couple of weeks of one another (though I started at another address, in which I was a bit more hard-core than I am in this "I'm crazy but I'm not quite so raw" incarnation). But I suppose my point (and this gets to what some readers are talking about in the comments to B's post) is that it doesn't really make me less of a bitch or less crazy that I've toned things down a bit since starting Reassigned Time. At the end of the day, for a woman, and maybe even more for a woman in the academy surrounded by people who claim to be feminists, there isn't really much difference between "acting bitchy" once in a while and being labeled a "bitch," or in "acting crazy" once in a while and being labeled "crazy" (or, a crazy bitch, to up the ante just a little bit more). As women - even as women in fields where people think a lot about gender and who embrace "feminist" politics - there's always that danger that if one doesn't play nice then one is going to be categorized in these ways. And maybe the only rational response is to say, "yep, I'm a crazy bitch - so deal with me," because whether one embraces the label or not, one is going to be labeled.

When I decided to become a professor, I was under the naive impression that I'd be entering a world in which gender didn't determine my identity quite so much as it would in other professions. I thought all of the theorizing about women and all of the lip-service to feminist ideologies meant that by becoming part of this world - the world of the intelligentsia - that I'd be less regulated by sex/gender stuff. I also thought that all of this education would introduce me to people who had broader ideas about sex/gender than the people I knew from my working-class upbringing. To some extent, this has been true. But to another extent, I've seen the ways in which women are put in their place in this world to be more insidious (and as such, more diabolical). People may be more politically correct in this world, but they are often just as sexist at rock bottom.

So what does it take to be labeled "a bitch" or to be labeled "crazy"? Having an opinion. Expressing unhappiness. Pursuing ambitions above one's station. Getting uppity about an issue. Speaking one's mind. Refusing to take no for an answer. Refusing to make nice or to smoothe things over. Being too dynamic in the classroom (and no, Sexist Student, I don't think that "taking horse tranquilizers" would make me a better teacher - nor do I think that I'm "too much of a feminist" to be qualified to teach). Not accepting being pigeonholed into the role of "Professor who listens to students' problems and will cut them some slack," in the way of Mommy or Big Sister or Best Friend. Saying no. Saying yes.

In other words, you're going to call me a "bitch" or call me "crazy" no matter how hard I try to play by the rules. So why not just call myself Crazy and be done with it? All of the momentum that would be gained by calling me Crazy is lost if I just say, "oh yes, I'm crazy, didn't you notice that sooner?" I'm not going to spend my time and energy trying to refuse that label. There are more important things to talk about.

Here's where B's reader was coming from when s/he wrote to B.:

My questions center around the word "bitch." A few of us have been having a rather extended conversation surrounding its use, and the general consensus is that it's an extremely gendered term (and not in a positive sense) used to oppress opinionated women and to marginalize stereotypically feminine behaviors in men and women. The controversy we've been discussing surrounds the reclaimation of this term and if it's even possible to do without having to explain your gender politics extensively.

My response is this: All language is gendered. All language regulates behavior, determines identity, and ultimately polices the individual. Claiming or reclaiming a particular word isn't going to make language itself any less oppressive. At the end of the day, if we successfully "reclaim" Bitch, or Crazy, or Slut, or Whore, or Cunt, another word is going to crop up in its place to "oppress opinionated women and to marginalize stereotypically feminine behaviors in men and women." The point in any project of reclamation as far as I can tell is not that it's going to stop oppression. Rather, it's to change the terms of the discussion. Perhaps if we stop talking about the pros/cons of being called any of the above or about whether it's ethical to use any of the above words, maybe we can start talking about the cultural structures and institutions that give these kinds of words such performative force.

Five Things You Don't Know about Me

Well, Chris over at Wind Farm tagged me for this, and since it's pretty easy, I thought to myself, "Self, do this little meme-y thing! It is easy! It's more fun than prep or grading!" But then I now am thinking that I wonder if there ARE five things people don't know about me - I mean, I've been blogging a pretty long time....

But yes, there must be. So here it goes.

1. Once upon a time, I was a finalist for the National High School Journalist of the year award. That was back when I believed that writing could change the world.
2. The first thing that I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a cartoon. No lie.
3. Halloween is my least favorite holiday. Thanksgiving is my most favorite. I am considering moving to France, where they have declared the holiday that is Halloween "dead." Apparently the French do not like the crass commercialism of this American holiday. I can't say I blame them.
4. If I'm on the phone with a friend, and if someone calls on the other line with whom I'd rather talk, I will often tell phone-friend #1 that it's my mom on the phone and that I have to take the call. Sometimes this is true, but more often it is a total lie. a) I have no idea why I don't just get off the phone if I don't want to talk to phone-friend #1 and b) why do I lie about it being my mom on the phone? Isn't that lame? (Though I did do something similar as a kid when I didn't want to play with my friends who lived in the house behind me - I'd tell them that "I have to go somewhere with my mom" and so couldn't play. This, too, was a dumb lie, as they could tell that we didn't leave the house, I'd imagine. Also, "go somewhere" is a bit vague, you know? Clearly I'm a crappy liar.)
5. My confirmation name is Susannah.

(I KNOW nobody knows #5 - I think the only person who might remember that besides me and my mom is like my 8th grade boyfriend, who, incidentally, did not choose a different name for his confirmation name, which I felt at the time was tremendously lame. My First Love's confirmation name is Angelo... maybe the fact that I remember that about him means that he remembers my confirmation name, too? Clearly we must have exchanged this information at some point when we were 15 or 16 years old.... Maybe I will ask him about that the next time we talk....)

I am so tired I might die. Even after treating myself with a venti latte this morning. (Oh, and that treat was a reward because I've lost 10 lbs. since the beginning of the school year! Yippee! I may actually reach my Christmastime (and MLA) goal weight!) And I'm kind of hungry, but it is too early for lunch. Maybe I will eat my string cheese.

Ready for the Mail?

I think it's done. The Book Proposal. The sample chapters I'll send along with it. We'll see whether I'm ready tomorrow.

Thank god my comp students are doing peer review tomorrow, because even with the nap, I should have gone to bed an hour ago. And now I'm too wired to sleep immediately.

How does one know when something is ready?

The only thing that makes me feel better is that if it gets rejected there are certainly other places to send it. (And I'm sending it off first to places far out of reach, so there are places that might actually be within reach later on.)

But wouldn't it be awesome if an awesome place were interested?

On Writing and Time

"Write first."

That's the advice that one always gets when one talks about the struggle to make one's research a priority and to be a productive researcher. It's advice one gets from the time one begins teaching in graduate school, and it's advice that recurs as one enters a position as an assistant professor. The collective wisdom is that one must privilege one's writing time and that the best way to do that is to put writing before all else. If one waits until later in the day, those wise ones might say, the day will get away from one and one will make excuses and the research and the writing won't get done.

At various times, I've tried to follow this advice. In my experience, it does not work. Similarly, the advice to exercise first thing in the morning does not work for me. When I wake up in the morning, I am barely able to get my coffee and get in the shower. If I'm really in a bind, I can grade. Or maybe do a little class prep. But any task that requires significant motivation will not get done and done well first thing in the morning except for on a fluke. (And even then, only if the writing/research work is merely making editing sorts of changes that are pretty mindless.)

So how does one make time for research? Time for writing? If one just can't write first? And if one's course load is such that it's really not easy to work a schedule where one has to teach only two or three days a week?

It was funny: when I was talking to a good friend of mine who has a t-t job at a Very Prestigious University at the Very Fancy Conference I attended this summer, he was astonished at my productivity over the past three years. (That said, he is very productive himself, and he's one of those people I admire and even envy a bit for their productivity and accomplishments.) What this made me think about is how people talk about a 4-4 load as if it's a death sentence for a research agenda. I know I worried that it would be when I got this job. But it hasn't been, even though I can't do the whole "write first" thing. So perhaps this is a good time (as I'm taking a little break from the book proposal) to write about how I work in the research/writing aspect of things in spite of my heavy teaching and service loads.

First of all, I think rather than following prescriptions about how to fit writing in, one has to go with one's natural inclinations. All of my writing life, I've tended to write and to think and to do all of those complex things in the afternoon and at night. If that is one's natural rhythm, trying to go against that can actually hurt productivity. I always tell my writing students that there is no one right way to write a paper - and that's good advice for us as scholars to take as well. Things I know about myself:

1) I tend not to be able to write in silence. (Unless I've already begun writing and the cd ends or something, which of course never happens now that the iPod has been invented. I also tend to write with the TV on, if I'm not listening to music. I need background noise in order to focus.)
2) I often need to start any writing I do long-hand. I think this comes from the fact that I didn't have a computer until I started my PhD program. My process developed with long-hand as the first step of all writing, and so getting going often requires that I start with writing by hand. I can compose on the computer now, but if I get stuck, or if I'm just getting started, I need to bust out a pen and paper.
3) I need to edit on paper, not on the screen.
4) I need to allow myself to write when I feel like writing. That is not the same thing as waiting for inspiration to write, but it does mean that I need to write at night if necessary, even if it means napping for two hours when I get home from work (which I did today).
5) Try as I might, I can't write in the morning. I can teach in the morning. I can grade in the morning. But if I have a schedule where I'm meant to be accomplishing writing things in the morning, it will not happen. and if I teach late in the day, I will not write at night.

Other factors to consider:
I have a 4/4 load. Now, technically this year I've got a 3/3 load, but the course reduction is filled up with the quasi-admin position, which really is as much work as a fourth course. It is not a true 3/3 load. At my institution, teaching is number one, with service coming a close second. Research and publication runs a distant third, in terms of what my institution values. It is very easy to let teaching and service eat away at one's time.

The response of many to this problem is not to do research during the academic year. Research is what happens when one is "free" in the summer. This does not work for me. Unless I have an ongoing research agenda, I don't do crap when I'm "free" when the academic year is done. It's too hard to switch gears. I need to have an ongoing research agenda in order to produce. But how does one have an "ongoing research agenda" when one teaches five days a week?

I do not relegate research to weekends. Often, on weekends, I do no work whatsoever. I may not have a life, but I do have leisure time, and I protect that leisure time.

So how do I do it?

1. I teach in the morning. My teaching day is done at noon. The idea is that I will then (in an ideal world) get the hell out of work by 2 PM at the latest. This doesn't always happen, but it's always the aim. I'd say that I manage to leave by 2 PM or before 2 PM 2-3 days a week.
2. I spend as little time on teaching as I can do while still doing a good job. One thing I've noticed about my colleagues who've never taught at teaching-intensive universities is that they spend FAR more time on grading and preparation than I now spend. I realized very early on in this job that this use of time did not make sense. When I taught in grad school, I spent a HUGE amount of time on grading and prep, and I think it actually was because I taught less. Teaching more, I've learned how to streamline a lot of what I do as a teacher. The thing to remember is that as the professor, one is better prepared than the students by definition. There is no reason to let that suck one's time away. (Now, I care a lot about teaching, and I do spend a lot of time on it. But I'd argue that I spend much less time per student, per course, than many of my peers who teach fewer courses. The point is to make every bit of time that one spends "count.")
3. Service is a time-suck, and I need to learn how better to manage my service load. That said, I do try to do service that is high-visibility/low time-commitment. I think this is good advice for any junior faculty member.
4. I send out proposals for things. And I don't fret too much about them. Without deadlines, it is really hard to motivate oneself, and conferences are a great way to self-motivate. And if something gets rejected, so what? If one never sent something out, then one would never get an acceptance.
5. I make sure that I do new work by doing "variations on a theme" conference proposals, which means that three or four presentations equals roughly one article. Those presentations that are not moving toward an article are still variations on the same theme, and those will be part of the Next Book.
6. I teach what I'm working on research-wise, and I research what I'm teaching. Research is not "my work" separate from my teaching, but rather the two are intimately related. I do not have the luxury of working on things that I do not teach. There are not enough hours in a day.
7. I have no problem letting things like laundry, cleaning the bathroom, etc. go. Luckily, my cat does not mind my filth, and I don't tend to procrastinate by cleaning. (Though clearly I procrastinate by blogging. But at least I'm writing, right?)

I suppose my point here is that a research agenda is possible when one has a job like mine. No, you won't produce as much as people at research universities. My book is not already under contract, and I've only done two full-length articles, two shorter articles, and about two (sometimes three) conference presentations per year. I say "only" but I think that's actually probably a lot, considering.

This is one of the reasons that I'm on the market. I wonder what I could do, with the experience I now have behind me, if I were at an institution that valued research more. (But then I also fear that I'm one of those people who does better when she doesn't have adequate time to do things.) I also know that I can't keep up this pace if I stay in this job. I'll need to make a choice: research or a more vibrant personal life, as research is the least valued thing that I do, so obviously it will have to be the first thing to go. I suppose as I hear back from places to which I've applied, I'm both motivated to do research right now, and I'm afraid of how things will change, whether I get an offer or not. I know how to do this thing in this job as things now stand. How will I do if I'm somewhere else? How will I do if I need to cut back in the service of other important things (like someday having a family)? And if I have to cut back, is that a compromise I really can make, as research and writing is really the primary thing that made me choose this profession - more than teaching, more than anything else?

But for now, I'll start doing my research work around 9 PM. And I'll keep juggling all of my projects, and I'll keep hoping for the best.

On the CHE Forums again.

And this thread is talking about timelines for hearing back from journals in different disciplines. Another situation in which I'd not post over there, even if I did, in fact, do anything other than lurk. As my journal article that came out this year was accepted (with some very minor revisions) within one week of me submitting it for review. Now, I was invited to submit by the editor after the editor heard my talk at MLA (another bizarre thing, what many regard as an urban myth about what can happen from and MLA presentation), so I suspect there was more motivation than there might have been for an article submitted without solicitation. My point here is this: these forums are stupid. There is no rhyme or reason to this profession.

Oh, and can I just also add that I'm not sure how I feel about the whole introduction of the wiki into the academic job search? When I went on the market the year I got this job, there was no job search wiki. And I think that the not knowing (and not caring) once applications were sent off was preferable to wondering whether there are wiki updates. Because again, there is no rhyme or reason to this profession.

That said, I've gotten some response from 5 of the 9 places I've applied (in the form of yes, we received it and here's an EEOC thing for you to fill out for the most part). I'm kind of impressed with this, as the first deadline for any place I applied was today. Maybe applying before the deadline does have its merits?

(I still haven't done any prepping for tomorrow - including post-it-ing. I may be a slacker.)

Now Energized (although it's not the time for such things)

Ok, so since last I wrote, I did the following:

1) Ate dinner.
2) Took an hour-and-a-half long nap
3) Talked to A., a very good friend whom I've known for like... 12 years? Longer than that actually, but we became good friends like 12 years ago.
4) Talked to Friend in Crisis. (Friend is ok, but a series of unfortunate incidents have happened lately, and there is working through it that is being done.)
5) Finished my novel for my class tomorrow (yay!)
6) Decided not to grade those papers to return tomorrow. They can wait until Thursday. I don't care.
7) Worked in earnest on polishing the Book Proposal.

#7 is what has me energized. I don't know whether it's good or whether it sucks, but I'm interested in it. And I refuse to obsess over it: the point is to get it out there and to see what happens. It makes little sense to hang onto it longer and longer only to need to fuss with it more. I have, to this point, gone through one revision of one sample chapter and finished revising the others. With the sample chapter revisions not yet completed, I need to condense some quotes, add in some criticism, do a bibliography for just that chapter, and fuss with the notes (i.e., delete the Horrifyingly Obtuse Notes of Dissertating). I also revised the proposal itself, and the letter to go with it is ready to go for all but addresses. So the thing is to get the sample chapter that is in need of one more go-around done. My goal is to do that tomorrow. And to get the thing to the post office tomorrow. The reality is that the post office will probably happen on Wednesday, as I've also got to go run some Important Errands tomorrow that Cannot Wait. The point is, I want this out so that there is the remote possibility that one of these publishers will want to meet at MLA, which would make going to MLA about something other than interviewing. Also, if I send the proposal out, this will be motivation to do the (basically minor, except for in the new introduction) revisions that I need to make to the rest of the manuscript. And I need that motivation, as unless I send things out, I'm not motivated. I mean, sure, I think about self-motivating, but the whole thing about letting other tasks expand to the time available is true, thus I need some external pressure in order to keep the research chugging along. It's not that I don't love my research - I do - but it doesn't feel "necessary" in the way that teaching and service can. The fact of the matter is, the teaching and research stuff isn't as necessary as I make it out to be, or it is, but it really doesn't require the time that I devote to it when I'm not doing research. So I need to send shit out. Period.

And maybe this will just set me up for rejection, but maybe, like the article that was accepted at summer's end, just sending something will result in an addition to the CV. The fact of the matter is that while I love my dissertation-turned-book-manuscript, I'm done with it. I want to start working on the Next Book. And I can't do that until I deal with the First Book. (God, I totally have too much ambition for my current job. Research-wise, that is. Though the job shouldn't determine one's level of ambition. So maybe I'm just being a snob. In fact, I know I am, as my mentor in my department is a super-researcher, so I'm being dumb.)

I should make some notes for class tomorrow re: the Final Day of Discussion of the Novel. I don't really feel like it. Maybe I'll just post-it some relevant passages.

The point here, though, is that I'm feeling really good. After the Dark Night of the Soul that was Saturday, I'm in a motivated groove. Work may not be everything, but work is really fulfilling. Remind me of this when I complain tomorrow about the 85 students with whom I need to meet. (That is a total exaggeration. It's really like 4 students.)

Oof. Am Exhausted

So I realize that we gained an hour, but I do not feel like I've gained an hour. My body is still on Daylight Saving Time. I know - what's an hour? My the time change every fall and spring always does a number on me. And it doesn't help that I'm trying to do too many things, so that I really needed like 14 extra hours (all of which I'd spend sleeping, if I had my way). So what's on Crazy's agenda this week?

1. Mail off late entry into the application sweepstakes.
2. Check to make sure letters of rec are sent off.
3. Meet with 472 students, some for advising, some to talk about papers.
4. Finish up with the novel I'm teaching in my upper-div. class.
5. Grading (oh yes, It's round...three of grading in the semester.)
6. Finish polishing book proposal and send the blasted thing off.
7. Cross fingers that some jobs want additional materials.
8. Cross fingers that some jobs will want to interview me.
9. Teach bunches of things, most (but not all) of which I've taught before.
10. Watch Man-Kitty take a bath. (Ok, so that's not really on the to-do list, but he's cleaning his little kitten toes right now and is very cute.)

I'm sure there's more, but I just can't take in any more than what I've already written down. Tonight I'm going to do the following: work on the book proposal, in the hope of completing it and having it ready to mail off tomorrow; prep for the final day with the novel I'm teaching; think for a moment about the texts I'm teaching in my other class.

Sorry about how boring this post is. I'm just tired and overwhelmed. Incidentally, though, I did drag my ass to the gym today, so that's a good thing. Must go eat some dinner. Perhaps that will give me energy and focus.

Cooking Sunday

Over the past few weeks, I've gotten into a habit of doing a lot of cooking on Sundays. Part of this is because I've been committed to packing lunches and eating like a sensible person. If one hopes to stay true to such commitments, and one is a busy person, one must plan ahead. It's also that I've been so busy during the week that I come home exhausted and don't feel like cooking. So I cook like those women you hear about who make a week's worth of meals for an incompetent husband before they go out of town to visit their ailing sister or something. I make vast quantities of food, enough to feed multitudes, when really there is just me.

Now, the funny (funny odd, not funny haha) thing about me is that I much prefer cooking for myself than cooking for other people. Most people I talk to will say that they can't be motivated to cook when it's just for themselves. They need to cook for someone to be motivated. For me, though, cooking for others is not generally ideal. I find myself afraid to experiment, concerned that the food I'll make won't be well received. I tend to stick to recipes of which I am certain. And this takes a lot of the fun out of it for me. But the cooking I've been doing on Sundays has been of the more inventive variety. While I may start with a recipe, I find myself tweaking it as I go. I don't follow directions precisely; I make adjustments according to my own whims. Or I just make up recipes, and try them out. I've never been in a position where I felt comfortable doing such things when I've cooked for others. When I cook for others, I tend not to try new things. I go with what I know will please.

The liberating thing about cooking for yourself - cooking really delicious things for yourself, rather than just making a stupid frozen pizza or eating cereal or something - is that if you screw it up and the food comes out bad that it's no big deal. There's nobody to complain. You can throw the bad food out if you don't like it, and nobody will be the wiser. And so that then allows you to take risks in the kitchen - to try out something that you've never tried out before.

I love cooking. I think cooking might be my one and only actual hobby. And I think I do make yummy food.

But I'm not a gourmet cook. No, not at all. I don't have the patience for recipes with too many ingredients; I don't have the interest in learning complicated methods of preparation. Instead, I tend to gravitate toward foods that are simple and comforting.

So today, the cooking began with brunch, after I'd gone to the grocery store. I made myself scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and ham and a piece of wheat toast with blackberry jam. (By the way, I will only eat my own scrambled eggs and my mother's. Why? Because I hate scrambled eggs that are not fluffy (a), that are too dry (b), or that are too runny (c). I NEVER get scrambled eggs if I go out to eat - only over-easy.)

Then, this afternoon, I made a delicious roast. A roast, you say? For one person? Well, yes. But I did something with the rest of it later. At any rate, I made a 2.5 lb. roast, and I made some mashed turnips to accompany it. Mmmm. Love turnips.

After I had my dinner, I then took the remaining roast beef and cut it into bite-sized pieces. And I made some beef, barley, and mushroom soup. While that was cooking, I then took some apples, cored them, and sprinkled them with splenda and cinnamon, used some of that "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" stuff that is no calories, and baked them.

When the soup was done, I put it in individual serving-sized containers, and I freezed half of them. When the apples were done, I put all but one portion in individual serving-sized containers and put them in the fridge. Then, I had my dessert: the baked apples with a dollop of sugar-free cool whip. Delicious! Like apple pie without the crust! (Though I've got to say, I do make a wicked-good pie crust, and I did miss it, but as it is about 7,000 calories per bite, I will have to wait until thanksgiving for that treat.)

I am really excited for all of my meals this week. And on one night when I'm feeling some cooking energy? I'm going to make one of my favorite things - cabbage and noodles. (I know, it doesn't sound all that great, but trust me - a better comfort food there never was.)

No Longer Whining, and Finally a Post about my Father

1. So I watched the Sixteen Candles, and it was awesome. Love that Long Duck Dong. Love that muscle-relaxed sister. Love Farmer Ted and his Dipshits.
2. I played some Sims 2 - (with the Pets expansion) the Dogradorias - Sally and ... I forget her husband's name... their dogs Peanut (the Poodle), Bagel (the Labrador), and Noodle (the son of Peanut and Bagel, a Labradoodle), and twins Dashiell and Henry, are all doing fantastically.
3. I got an email from Awesome Mentor who agreed - in spite of being wicked-busy - to write me a letter of rec., and she attached the letter. I generally don't want to know what my recommenders say (I'm totally motivated by thinking that I kind of suck), but reading what she wrote about me really did make me feel great.
4. I watched most of 4o-year-old Virgin, which made me laugh my ass off, even though I don't think it's the greatest movie ever. In fact, I think it's kind of sucky, but parts are hilarious.
5. I finally wrote an email back to my dad. Not my step-dad - my actual dad. I've been promising a post about him, and so I suppose I will do that now.

My relationship with my dad is fucked up. Part of this (most of this) is his fault. He and my mom separated when I was 11. He got married to an Other Woman. (I say "an" because apparently there had been more than one indiscretion on his part during the marriage.) He's been married to her for 20 years this Christmas-time. Basically, from the time of his marriage to her my relationship with him has been... fraught. (At first she did have something to do with this - she was very threatened by me and treated me like shit - but she and I have made our peace. No, I'd never choose her as a friend or anything, but she's not a bad person. She just sucks.) He was not a part of my life during high school, even though there was supposed to be visitation. He did pay child support (though it was really more a gesture than real support). He did not help with my college tuition, nor did he help to support me through grad school. Nevertheless, he's very "proud" of me and likes to take a great deal of credit for my accomplishments (pretty much none of which he deserves).

Now, my father... he's fun. He's a fun dad, good for fun times. When I was a kid, he was great with playing games, being a chaperone on class field trips (and ours was always the "fun car" where he'd let us all scream and be crazy), and just generally being the fun-time dad. When I was in college, when we developed something of a relationship after the high school gap, he was also a good fun-time dad - the kind of dad who would take a 19-year-old Crazy to see Buddy Guy and B.B. King in concert for her birthday like three days after she'd had her wisdom teeth out and was taking percoset for the pain and then buy her beers, which was really fun, I've got to say, even if not exactly smart. He is NOT somebody I can count on in my life. I have not seen him in over two years. Nor have I talked to him.

There was a falling out about four years ago, related to a commitment he'd made to me that he did not honor (because he went to Pittsburgh to see a Steelers-Browns game). The full story isn't really important. The point is that prior to that point, I'd always felt a weird kind of guilt about my shitty relationship with my father. I always felt like our shitty relationship was my fault, that I was not a good daughter to him, and that if I was in some way responsible for how things were with us. NOT that I was responsible for the divorce - I never felt that, for I squarely placed the blame on both of my parents' shoulders - but that I wasn't a "good daughter" to him. When the falling out happened, it forced me to reconcile myself to the fact that he is who he is and that our relationship is not solely my responsibility.

I know my father loves me, and I know that I matter to him. BUT. He is not equipped (for whatever reason) to be a parent to me. And there is absolutely nothing that I can do to make that change. That's what I've grown up to understand. Or if not understand, to accept.

But this isn't only about me and my father. He has two sons with my stepmother. And one of the things that's fucked up is that because my relationship with my father is so fucked up, I can't really have a relationship with them - or not the kind of relationship I'd want to have with them. But so the falling out happened, in the fall of 2002. At Christmas 2003, I sent him (and the family) a card, which I addressed to him, and in the card I enclosed a letter to him, saying that I wanted a relationship but that the ball was in his court (to sum up). He did not respond. Months later, I got an email from my stepmother. She said that she had read the letter and that she had waited for him to do something. He didn't. But my little brother C. talked about me all the time and wanted a relationship with me, and she wondered if I'd email with him. Now, I LOVE C. My other brother, K., I love, but he's kind of stand-off-ish and just isn't that into me. C. and I have had a bond that is entirely unexplainable since he was born, and I was totally excited to have any kind of contact with him. So C. and I email. And I actually see C. and the whole family (including my father) in Summer 2004, though it's weird, because only C. and I have anything to say to one another. (Incidentally, he was born when I was 22, so imagine the madness of him being the only person in that branch of the family with whom I've got a relationship and with whom I can have a decent conversation.) C. and I continue to email, but still, nothing from my father.

Until this fall. I got an email from him. Out of the blue. This initial email was written in the ALL CAPITAL LETTERS OF SHOUTING and was about three sentences long. (Clearly, I realize, I've gotten my writing abilities and talent from my mother. Though I will give him that after I wrote back, he reverted to standard English capitalization.) Anyway, I've got to say, I was really happy to have heard from him. He reached out. I don't know why.

But then I felt some ambivalence. What if I went back to how I felt before? What if I went back to feeling like the "bad daughter" just because we were back in contact? But I wrote back.

Now, I was kind of an asshole in my reply to him. Of course, he didn't know I was an asshole. I was really (on the surface) welcoming to the idea of renewing the relationship. But I also attached my journal article that had just come out. And that was a dick move. Because my father doesn't really have the education to read it and get anything out of it, and I attached it aggressively - "Look at what I did that you can't understand! Look at how dumb you are and look at how you've not supported me!" But then there was also the other message, which was "Be proud of me! Pay attention to me! Look how awesome your daughter is!" (See, the fucked-up-ness of our relationship, while mostly his fault is not entirely his fault.)

But so he responded. He read the article. He mentioned he'd had to look up some of the words in order to figure out what the hell I was talking about. Now, this may not seem like a big deal, but my mother has never read anything I've written. She's responsible and deserves credit for everything I've accomplished, but she at the same time has never made that effort. I do not have any resentment toward her because of that - neither she nor my father have education beyond high school, and I get that what I do is entirely foreign to them and that there's no reason why they'd ever read my work or be interested in it, as they've also not read the books I write about. But the fact that my father made that effort, well, it means something.

Now, one reason my mother doesn't feel she has to read what I write is because I translate all of it into English for her as I'm thinking about it. She knows all about my work; she just doesn't read it. And she knows about every single thing that goes into producing it. My father doesn't have that part of me. I don't do that for him. In order to know me, he has to read the article. And I've set it up that way, I guess. And so has he, maybe. But it was weird, that he did read it. I only realized after the fact that I'd attached it as a challenge to him, a way for him to prove he gave a crap. And he actually did it. I don't know what to think about that. (About the challenge I made or the meeting of it on his part.)

But what was weird about his email was that he said this stuff about me that wasn't at all like me (like about me as a kid). It was part of the "I'm so proud of you" schtick he does, but I felt like he didn't remember who I was. And I didn't know what to make of that. I still don't. Maybe I never will. Maybe I am for him somebody whom I don't recognize. Maybe that's what happens when you aren't really in a person's life. And maybe that's true of him for me, too.

But so tonight I finally wrote back to him (after almost a month, because I've been busy and because I'm a jerk who just let it slide, though I'm not a "bad daughter" - just a jerk). And it felt good. The truth is, I want a relationship with my father. Maybe it won't be the relationship I think that we should have, but I do want to know him and I want him to know me. I want for us to be ok. Maybe someday we will be.

I haven't felt that in a long time. It feels good to feel that - that maybe we will be ok.

"I'll Bet You a Dozen Floppy Disks..."

I just got back from dinner out with BFF at our favorite little mexican place that we affectionately call "La Cucaracha." And now I'm home, and Sixteen Candles is on one of the HBO channels, and so that's my Saturday night.

Probably not good that I'm watching the Sixteen Candles, because I'm feeling kind of... somber. Somehow watching this movie makes me feel like I'm about 14 years old and really lame when I'm in this sort of a mood. Add to the fact that it's Saturday night, and, well, you see.

Part of the problem is that I hate Halloween. I especially hate the way adults have co-opted Halloween and run around in couples costumes. Or maybe I just hate couples.

Part of the problem is that some whippersnapper got my attention (sort of touched my arm) as I was going into La Cucaracha and told me to "smile," which I hate, because when dudes tell me to smile I can't stop myself from doing so (a) and also because I felt kind of flattered even though I shouldn't (b).

Part of the problem is that I'm sick of my stupid, dumb life.

I may be as big of a loser as Farmer Ted when he gets trapped under the glass coffee table at Jake Ryan's party. Only I don't suspect I'll then get to lose my virginity to the prom queen or similar as some sort of redemption from my loserdom.

- end whine -



But don't you love the floppy disks quote? How old this movie is! How old I am (frown).

Extra Credit

Ok, so as part of being on the market, I have become obsessed, once again with the Chronicle of Higher Education forums. Back in a pre-wiki, pre-blog world, those forums were my first experience with an electronic community of academics, and apparently going back on the market in earnest has sucked me back into lurking there obsessively. So anyway, I don't only lurk on the job search experience forum, but I peruse the other forums as well, and on the in the classroom forum, there's a thread going about extra credit. As I only lurk on the forums, I'm not participating in the conversation there, and even if I wasn't only a lurker, I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable participating in this particular thread. Why?

Because I give extra credit. What students might consider "good" extra credit. Not in all courses, but in some. Consistently. Does this make me a bad teacher? A grade inflator? Not rigorous? I don't know.

The consensus on the forum thread seems to be that "extra credit" is an atrocity. Well, perhaps I exaggerate. But basically most (though not all) posters seem to agree that to give extra credit is just plain unethical or at the very least bad policy. Some sample comments:

"For me extra credit is a bad idea at any level--it makes some students aggressive or whiney (demanding more extra credit) and sometimes it devalues/makes students lose their focus on the original material."

"Personally, though, I wouldn't give them extra credit just for the sake of raising their grades. Not only does it invite whining, etc, as arugula pointed out, but it also lets students know that they don't have to try too hard, since there will be a back up of some kind."

"I don't give extra credit. I give credit. They can have all they earn."

"I never give extra credit and am very against it. My current course is a pre-req. for another. If a student does not understand my material well, hu will not be ready for the next course."

(Incidentally, "hu" is the gender-neutral pronoun of choice on the forums. It sucks.)

But so at any rate, it got me thinking about when I started giving extra credit and why. It all started in my Survey course. In my first semester at my university, I taught the course for the first time - ever. I basically modeled it on what I remembered from my undergrad experience. A midterm (in class), a final (in the regular final period), and two 3-5 page analysis essays (equally weighted) - oh, and "participation" which included quizzes, discussion, etc. My evaluations were... well, not the best I've ever received. Many students thought the course was "too hard." Some of the more constructive comments asked that the grade be broken down into more parts or that the first paper be weighted less than the second. More than a few students said that I expected them to be grad students.

Now, part of this was the learning curve of me going from the high-falutin' institution where I did the bulk of my teaching as a grad student to a regional comprehensive. Part of it had to do with the fact that students challenged my authority in the classroom because I'm female, young-ish, etc. Part of it had to do with the particular dynamic of that class. And, I believe, part of it did have to do with the fact that this class does require more of students than some other courses of a similar level, and yet it is still a general studies course and so many are taking it just because it fits into their schedule and fills a graduation requirement, even if they don't have any passion for literature (or even enjoy reading).

Basically, I had a lot of kinks to work out.

So I did make some changes to the regular syllabus.

1) I developed two paper options, one recommended for majors/minors, one for non-majors/minors, which ultimately require the same amount of writing and for students to develop the same analytical skills, but with the non-major/minor option requiring slightly less abstract thinking related to the assignment. The papers are also weighted less toward the beginning of the semester now.
2) The midterm is now a take-home.
3) The quizzes are now their own separate grade.

But still, something was missing. And then it dawned on me: maybe I need to give them extra credit opportunities?

I'm not sure what I thought about extra credit in grad school. I only taught comp, and since I have a "revise everything but the last paper for a totally new grade" policy, it never was necessary. I suspect I might have thought that it meant I was "caving" to "grade-grubbing students." But I don't really remember.

But I decided it was worth a try for a number of reasons at my current institution. And at least for me, it has worked. My reasons for continuing to make extra credit a part of certain classes (my "service courses" in literature and the course in which I teach Notoriously Difficult Novel) are the following:

1) I actually find that having specific extra credit assignments that I open up to the entire class actually decreases whining. My students don't haggle over points on exams or papers any more. I'm a tough grader. And I assign a lot of work, and difficult work, compared to some of my colleagues. Having extra credit as an option softens the blow of that for some of my students.

2) Extra credit options allow me to assign students some "enrichment" assignments that I think are cool but that I don't feel necessarily should be a part of the syllabus. (Incidentally, these "enrichment" activities always require a good deal of work - things like reading an extra novel or watching an unfamiliar film (or films), writing careful analysis, connecting the extra credit work to the work of the course. They are time-intensive and they are graded, so while the potential exists for students to raise their grades significantly, that raising of the grade is not guaranteed.)

3) I have never had a situation where a student who didn't "deserve" a particular grade got one through extra credit.

Now, the way that I handle extra credit is that it doesn't become available until after the midterm. (I may mention that there may be some extra credit coming, I don't necessarily do so. This is not mentioned on any course document.) Students need to see where they are after the first paper assignment and after the first exam, and they need to have a sense of the level of work that I expect from them - on all assignments - including what I will offer as extra credit. The extra credit is not easy. If you are doing very poorly, the extra credit will not save you. If, however, you screwed up on something early in the semester because you underestimated the level of attention you needed to give to an assignment or test, it can give you a boost to where you would have been had you known that I'm not an easy teacher. (I do make my expectations clear, but it's difficult for students to really internalize those expectations because they have so many other experiences that tell them that teachers don't really mean it when they state similar expectations.) Most often, extra credit helps the "plus" students - the students used to getting B's who earn a C+ or students used to getting A's who earn a B+. Extra credit assignments have a specific deadline, and just because you submit something for extra credit does not mean that you will necessarily earn extra credit. Because yes, you've got to earn it.

Now, I'll be honest: part of the reason that I've gone the way of extra credit in some classes is because I do care about my evaluations, and the extra credit addition allows me to give "real grades" while still to make students feel like they have the chance to excel in my courses. It gives them the impression that I'm tough but "nice." But am I giving real grades if there are unstated grades that are available? I think so, but I suspect that those on the forums would disagree.

Do you give extra credit? Why/why not? Am I wrong to think that it's just not that big of a deal? Have you had bad experiences with offering extra credit?

Poetry Friday - W.B. Yeats

A fun Yeats poem that I do not teach because there are so many poems by Yeats they "should have read" that I couldn't justify it. But a fun one for Poetry Friday.

"The Scholars"

BALD heads forgetful of their sins,
Old, learned, respectable bald heads
Edit and annotate the lines
That young men, tossing on their beds,
Rhymed out in love’s despair	5
To flatter beauty’s ignorant ear.
They’ll cough in the ink to the world’s end;
Wear out the carpet with their shoes
Earning respect; have no strange friend;
If they have sinned nobody knows.	10
Lord, what would they say
Should their Catullus walk that way?

"Following Your Bliss"

It's that time of year. The time of year that students - some promising, some less so - start wanting to talk in earnest about going to graduate school. Now, I'd never suggest that a student should make this decision based on the "bliss" that he or she feels in the study of literature. Others would disagree with me on this. But once again I find myself thinking about how I do approach this issue - in part because I did the radical thing of actually suggesting the idea of grad school to a student (something that I normally would never do) and in part because I've heard from a student of mine who began grad school in English this fall. Also, I attended an event that a colleague puts together every fall to talk about going to grad school with majors in our department. So once again I'm thinking about the ethics of encouraging students to pursue graduate degrees in English (given the glutted market, the years lost to graduate education, the havoc that grad school can wreak on one's personal life), and I'm thinking about my own position on such things, and whether I'm really doing it any better than those that I would criticize.

Now, my general position includes the following tenets:

1) I think that professors need to be very careful about suggesting to any student that he or she should consider graduate school. We have a lot of influence, and to make that suggestion to a student who isn't otherwise thinking about it is a very big deal. We've got to take that seriously.
2) If a student is considering graduate school, it is our responsibility to try to educate them about the realities of the profession and graduate education generally - including the negative aspects.
3) If after getting all of the information a student remains interested in pursuing the grad school path, and if we feel that this student has promise, I do think that it is important that we give the student strong support and good advice toward making the best decisions in this process possible.

As a professor at my current institution, I believe that these things take on even greater significance because of the student population that I teach. Many of my students are in the first generation of their families to go to college. If they choose graduate school they will not necessarily have the understanding and support of their families, and they will face a significant learning curve when it comes to being acculturated into academic discourse and culture. My students tend to think that going to grad school is a "safe" choice - one that will guarantee them stable employment. They also tend to think that the higher the degree that one attains the more money that one will make. They also tend to think that grad school will just be an extension of undergrad, and this is somewhat problematic, especially given their undergraduate experience at my current institution.* Part of the reason that I am sensitive to these issues is because when I started on the path toward this profession as an undergraduate, I suffered similar delusions.

I'd also say, though, that I think that it's important that students from this kind of background do have support in entering the academy if they have the ability and want to do so. One reason that I think that this is important is because students need mentors who understand where they're coming from - if all professors come from professor-families, moneyed backgrounds, etc., then undergraduates can have difficulty finding role models for exceeding the expectations of their families and social circles. I also think that it's important to bringing new perspectives to the research that is produced in various fields.**

But. The important thing here is that the student can't come second to a desire to bring a certain kind of diversity to the profession. And it's important that we don't do a bait-and-switch with students - emphasizing all of the positive aspects of the profession and/or graduate study for them to get a rude awakening when it's too late. Now, students are still going to delude themselves, no matter how much information we give them, otherwise nobody would ever go to graduate school. And yet I do think that being honest about the realities of the choices that they are making will help them once the scales fall from their eyes a few years down the road. At least that's what I hope.

So. As I mentioned, I made the radical decision (not without some angst) to present a current student with the idea that he could consider graduate school. This student is currently an English Ed student, but he's not the typical English Ed student. He is the one student in my survey who chose to write on the "literary criticism" topic for the first paper. In class, he's fairly quiet, but every time he comments, he produces insightful and incisive analyses of the texts under discussion. His first paper demonstrated a considerable aptitude for beautiful academic prose (though he's clearly dazzled his professors before me without really revising, and so he does have some work to do with his writing if he does choose to go on). He earned the highest grade I've ever given on a midterm. In fact, it was the midterm that sealed it for me. This is not a student who is just going through the motions. Nor is this a student who appears to be the typical over-achiever who gives the "right" answers but doesn't really care about what answers he's giving and only cares about the grade. No, this is a student who has a spark of something that tells me he'd really shine if he were able to study literature at a more advanced level.

But. I was worried. If I suggest this to this student, who clearly has a plan to teach high school, am I doing harm? What I decided was that I would give it to him straight. I'd tell him that I do think it's an option for him, but also I'd tell him that it's a risk. I'd give it to him straight, and I'd tell him to come and talk to me about his options. Part of the reason that I felt comfortable doing this, honestly, is because he's an English Ed major. I figured that he does have a back-up plan, which is one of the things that I encourage ALL of my students who talk to me about grad school to have. But I still might have done the wrong thing. I don't know.

Anyway, he (shyly) came to talk to me about it yesterday. It's the first real conversation I'd had with him. He's in the first generation of his family to go to college. He's very concerned that his family will not have the resources to help him, and he was most interested at first in just finding out whether it could really be possible for him to even think about doing this thing. He then expressed concern about how his family would take the decision. (I remember this was something that plagued me, too. I was really concerned that my family not think I had "wasted" my education and think of me as a "lifetime student." They thought those things anyway, but I had to come to terms with it before I changed my major to English. I remember a particularly emotional conversation with my mom, and I remember worrying that she'd be disappointed that I wanted to keep going to school.) I talked to him about my own background, and I talked to him about the fact that I did not think anyone should pursue grad school unfunded. I talked to him about the length of time that it would take, and I talked to him about the horrible job market. I directed him to my website, where I have links to things about making the decision to go to grad school. And that's where the conversation ended. So for now, it's up in the air. I wonder what he will do. But I think all in all I'm glad I put the idea in his head. Even if he chooses not to pursue it, I think that it was a nice compliment to pay him, to give him the option. I think that if it were me, I would like that someone had expressed that kind of confidence in me, even if I chose not to pursue the option.

Now today I heard from my Favorite Student Ever, who began a very good MA program this fall. This student has kept in touch since graduating in the Spring, and I have really high hopes for her. That said, it's been interesting seeing her transition into grad school. I don't know a whole lot about what's happening with her, but I do sense that she's going through a bit of culture shock. First, she's young. And she's been thrown right into teaching. (Again, not unlike my own experience.) I heard from her at the beginning of the semester, and she emailed to ask me why people in her teacher-training program "couldn't just spit it out" when they had questions or comments, but rather went on and on using a bunch of jargon. This is something I'd forgotten about: learning the language of performing one's intelligence; demonstrating that one "belongs in the club" by refusing to speak plain English. At other kinds of institutions, students begin to learn this as undergraduates. Not so here. So this has been a challenge for methodical, straight-forward FSE. (Aside: FSE refuses to call me by my first name, even though I tried to explain to her that she's my colleague now :) I wonder if she'll ever do it, though I did tell her that when she gets her Ph.D. if she still persists in calling me Dr. Crazy that I will insist on calling her Dr. FSE.) In her email today, she expressed concern about her comp. class. First of all, she's really been thrown to the dogs. She's got a 7:30 AM class, at least 75% of the students are male, and those students are primarily engineering majors. Oof. They're not coming to class; they're pissed off that she's not using rubrics for papers; basically (though she didn't say this) I sense that they are totally challenging her authority. Nothing prepares you for that. And in some ways it's just something you have to get through. I tried to give her some advice that I thought might help. (Actually, I wondered whether I should reveal my blog to her, as I think she might find it helpful, but I ended up not doing it. Maybe I'll tell her someday? Or just direct her to some other blogs in our little circle?) So it sounds like she's having a bit of a rough entry, but it also sounds like she's doing well. I'm trying to encourage her to go to her first conference this summer. We'll see if she's up for it.

So I don't know. Am I doing the right thing by these students? Should I be more discouraging? More encouraging? It's easy to figure out what to do with students who don't seem like they could make it. What's hardest for me is figuring out what to do with those students who seem like they maybe could.

But in any case, choosing this path is not, as far as I'm concerned, about "following your bliss." It's work. It's hard. It separates you from your origins, and it really can fuck with your sense of yourself. If things go well, yes, you get to pursue ideas that are interesting to you; you get to spend your life doing something that is meaningful to you. That's a pretty big pay-off. But that's if things go well, and we all know that things don't always go well for people who take this path. And so it's hard, as a professor for whom things have gone well, to know how best to help one's students navigate these dangerous waters.






*I do believe that students get a decent education here, but it isn't as rigorous as the education they might receive at other institutions. They don't tend to read as much as students at other institutions; they don't tend to have the experience with research writing or with critical theory. This doesn't mean it's impossible for them to do well in graduate school, but it does mean that it will challenge them in a way that students in other departments may not be as challenged.

** But part of these views may be my own narcissism. I feel like I add something to this profession because of my decidedly outside-the-intelligentsia upbringing, so I'm not sure how much validity my claims here have.

Fun Meme - Guess the Text

As seen over at Anastasia's:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

"Death, a cause of terror to the sinner, is a blessed moment for him who has walked in the right path, fulfilling the duties of his station in life, attending to his morning and evening prayers, approaching the holy sacrament frequently and performing good and merciful works. For the pious and believing catholic, for the just man, death is no cause of terror. Was it not Addison, the great English writer, who, when on his deathbed, sent for the wicked young earl of Warwick to let him see how a christian can meet his end. He it is and he alone, the pious and believing christian, who can say in his heart:
O grave, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?"

A kind of strange thing for me to post but I did pick the book nearest me. And it is a "cool" and "intellectual" book - but this isn't what I'd have chosen as four sentences to post from it. Hmmm. Shall anyone guess it?

O, For a Schedule Free of Meetings

Today is one of those days when the idea of cancelling my classes and returning to bed sounds like the best possible way to spend my day. In days of yore, I might have done such a thing. But you know what? As much as I want to do that today, I won't. This is not because I have some sort of heightened sense of responsibility but because it would be too much of a pain in the ass to reschedule the meetings with students that will fill my afternoon.

I hate meetings. And the longer I'm in this job, the number of meetings doubles - quadruples. It's like the meetings are breeding.

Maybe it won't be as long a day as it seems like it will be?

(What makes it worse is that I've got another afternoon of meetings on tap for tomorrow. Such a time suck, meetings are.)

The Grand Confession That Wasn't

I just had lunch with my chair, who is awesome. Yeah, so VSC had mentioned the whole "going on the market" thing to him, but that was ok. I still felt good telling him, and I think he was happy that I did.

I am very, very lucky to have this kind of support from people in positions of power in my department. I am very, very lucky to have the kinds of relationships with them that made me feel ok being open about my decision to look. I also feel like even if I do change jobs I will be able to maintain friendships with some of the people here and that they will wish me well, and that makes me happy, too.

I know they don't want me to go. Sometimes I think I don't want to go. It may be that I don't have to decide to go because nobody else will want me. But going through this process has made me see some really good things about this place, and even if nothing comes of going on the market, the fact that I can see the good in this place a bit more clearly is a really good thing.

What is not a good thing is the huge lunch I consumed and the fact that I did not remember to throw my gym bag in the car. Oh, and the fact that I saw what I think were snowflakes outside.

Rereading

As I think I've posted here before, in my reading-for-pleasure life I'm a compulsive rereader - and generally what I reread is not particularly amazing writing. I reread for pleasure precisely because if I'm reading something new - whatever its quality or lack thereof - I find it very difficult to close up shop for the night and to go to sleep at a sensible bedtime. I read in great big gulps - hours at a stretch, through meals, through whatever. I find it difficult, when reading something new, to put a book down.

That said, when it comes to work reading, I don't tend to reread very much. I'm not sure if this makes me unique among people who work on literature or not, nor am I sure if this is an entirely positive thing. I suspect that more of my colleagues in my discipline probably do reread more than I do for work. Part of the reason that I don't tend to reread is because of the compulsive fashion in which I take notes on things that I use for teaching or research. While of course I could reread things in their entirety anyway, I generally don't, as with all of the notes it's just not necessary. In some respects, this habit has served me particularly well, especially given my teaching load. It's an efficient way to work - to spend a bunch of time in the first and maybe second go-arounds annotating, and then to just do a quick skim when one picks up a book to teach it again or just to read relevent sections closely for one's research. If I had to read every single thing that I teach in its entirety every time that I teach it - or to read every single thing that I write about in its entirety every time that I do research on it - I probably would have died of exhaustion long ago. (Though, of course, perhaps that has to do with the compulsive note-taking, too, so maybe this doesn't kill other people.)

But so I've been rereading To the Lighthouse, because my original copy is hiding from me or lost forever (hard to know which), and this has been a revelation. It is very strange to read something with which one is very familiar and which at one point had compulsively annotated and yet to read it clean, as if it had never been touched by me or read by me before. (This is not the same thing as buying a new copy of a book when one has the old copy as well, for even if one does reread, one can turn back to the "original" and either copy in notes from it or enter into conversation with those notes.)

The experience is bizarre for so many reasons. It's bizarre when I hit upon a passage that stood out to me in the past and I can remember what I thought about it (and wrote about it) but where now my interpretation is slightly different, and so I find myself transcribing notes from memory and then adding nuances to those semi-remembered ideas. It's bizarre when I hit upon a passage or image that is so clearly crucial to me now but to which I didn't give a second thought on previous readings - as if I'm reading a different book, at some points. It's also bizarre to read this in preparation to teach it - this is a book that I read as a student, and on which I wrote as a student, and coming to it from this vantage point seems foreign. I find myself anticipating student responses - trying to connect the text to other texts we're covering this semester - and so I can't get lost in the book in the way that I remember getting lost in it as a student. Finally, it's bizarre that I don't find the book at all difficult, which was one of the key attractions of it for me when I first read it. I wanted to figure out the puzzle with which I felt it presented me. Now, I no longer feel like it's a puzzle. Now, it just makes sense.

I don't know. It's odd, because one might trace my path to becoming an academic directly back to my experience with this book as an 18-year-old college freshman. And after I wrote on it as a graduate student, I pretty consciously chose to abandon it because I loved it too much and I didn't want to spoil it for myself with working on it more. (This, at least in my experience, has been a key consideration in choosing what to teach and what to do research on. I find that if I love something too much, I feel like the experience of taking it apart does a violence not to the book but to my love for it. I also have a hard time getting outside of my own perspective enough to do any truly good critical work on those books that I love wholeheartedly. This is not to say that I've not written on or taught books that I love wholeheartedly, but doing so changes them for me in ways that I sometimes resist and resent.) But so on this reading, I am in love with this book again, but I'm in love with a different book from the one that I first fell in love with, if that makes any sense.

I remember, on first reading To the Lighthouse, being very preoccupied with the parent-characters - Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay. I remember also being very preoccupied with Charles Tansley, whom I despised. I was intrigued by Lily Briscoe, and I tried very hard to figure her out, but I didn't really "get" what Woolf was doing with her.

On this reading, though, at 32 years old to the single Lily Briscoe's 33, this novel is making much more sense to me. I'm noticing the children more, noticing William Bankes more. I'm seeing why it matters that Lily sees Mrs. Ramsay as a dark violet wedge of paint. I'm seeing why it matters that Lily is trying to paint but can't allow herself to think of herself as a "painter" or an "artist" (and I'm seeing that this is not only because she is an oppressed woman). I'm seeing this novel and its characters more fully in part because of my own life experiences but perhaps more importantly because I don't have all of the marginal voices - of my younger self, of my teachers, of my classmates - shouting in the background. I can still hear those voices in whispers, but I don't feel like I have to answer them unless I want to. And this time around, this novel is not so dark or so dense to me. It is not nearly so earnest.

So perhaps the novel that I loved so much that I put it to the side was not, in fact, the novel that I'm reading now or even the novel that it is. Maybe I should do a bit more rereading that has nothing to do with wanting to be able to go to sleep at a reasonable time. Who knows what I might find?

My Parents are Getting Married!

Ok, so my biological parents were married in 1974. March of 1974. As I arrived in summer 1974, you can see that time was of the essence in getting them hitched, yes? Well, they then divorced in 1986. (I've got a post brewing about my relationship with my dad, but this is not the post for that. My dad got remarried about five seconds after the divorce was finalized and I was not told until after the fact and I was not invited. Classy guy, my father. But I digress, and again, this is not the post to deal with him.)

Now my mom and my stepdad met around the time that the divorce was finalized. They met because she parked in the parking lot where he worked. He would see her every day, and I guess he liked what he saw, and so he checked around to see what her status was with her friends from her job. (Remember: my stepdad is an immigrant. And people can be mean to immigrants, so it made sense he'd do some legwork on the front end of things. Oh, and he totally wasn't into the idea of getting involved with some woman who had baby-daddy-drama or rotten kids. He had never been married, and as far as I can tell, he had decided that he wouldn't marry at some point in his 20s.) But so, to make a long story short, my mom said she'd go out with him.

[Aside: if you wonder from whence Dr. Crazy gets some of her craziness, Dr. Crazy's mom asked the following oh-so-attractive-to-one's-date questions on her first date with him: 1) are you a United States citizen? 2) are you a Christian? It's a wonder they've been together 20 years with that kind of beginning, I think.]

But so anyway, to make a long story short, something with the two of them clicked, and they've been together ever since. Well, there was a breakup scare when I was 14 (my mom and I moved, and a stressed out Crazy's Mom is kind of a shrew, and my stepdad isn't going to be walked over by a bitchy woman, and so he almost ended it. But he missed me (or so he says - I think he missed her, too, but I was a good excuse). But that's ok, I'll take the credit. And so I am responsible for their relationship! I am awesome!

At any rate, the thing that is so great about him is that when he first started dating my mom and then when he moved in with us (just sort of by osmosis - there was no grand moving in day - just he sort of slowly imbedded himself in our lives) he didn't try to boss me around or to bribe me or to whatever. He never tried to take the place of my father, but at the same time he's been more of a father to me for the past 20 years than my biological father has. All through high school, we would fight about politics and stuff going on in the news, and I rebelled against him. (It turns out, he's probably the most well informed person I've ever seen about such things, but when you're 15 and a passionate girl, political fights with any authority figure devolve into screaming matches and tears - yes, I cried all the time when I talked to him about the politics. Now it turns out we agree on a bunch of things, though whether that was me changing him or him changing me I'm not sure.) He knows what's going on in my life; he yells at me if I don't "do my duty" and call once a week (at minimum). He's the one who moved me to grad school; he's the one who told my mom that they could manage to help me financially during grad school. He's been at all of my graduations; he's in the acknowledgments of my dissertation. He's the one who was there in October 2003 for both my mom and for me when my grandmother died. I guess what I'm saying is that my stepdad has been my father for a really long time.

So it's exciting that he's finally going to be my mother's husband - even if it's taken them 20 years to get there.

(Incidentally, they are both totally freaked out and they claim they're doing it so that my mom can put him on her health insurance. My mom keeps worrying that he doesn't really want to do it, but then she keeps saying that she doesn't believe it's going to happen and she had never really thought about doing it... They're both pretty funny, I've got to say. I wish I could be there, but I think they'd both be embarassed - I'm the only person they've told, and they're just going to quietly go to the Justice of the Peace. It'll be interesting to see how they tell The Family. Oh, and I've not been calling back my one Real Life Non-Academic Friend who reads this blog because I'm afraid I'll tell her about it and I know there's no way that she could keep it inside and not spill the beans to her sisters if she knew - just as I couldn't not tell her if I talked to her now that I know - so A., if you're reading this (on Monday, as she does not do internet at home, which is why this post is safe), I'm sorry I've not called but the deed will be done by tomorrow afternoon, so I can call you after it's official!)