"To me, the idea of trying to track down custom papers and identify cheaters, that's not as productive as understanding why 200 people, one third of an entire lecture hall," he said, "would choose to cheat."
This quote comes from a recent article on ABCNews.com, "Confessions of a Ghostwriter: Man's Career Thrives Helping Students Cheat," which was prompted by that same man's anonymous "confession" in the Chronicle of Higher Education on November 12. (And really, how can something be a confession when the individual does not acknowledge any wrongdoing and won't even reveal his true identity? Sounds like he's running scared, regardless of his bravado and clammy rhetoric.)
Being in the throes of grading final papers and fielding emails from confused students who don't "understand" why they got something lower than expected on a particular project, I read and watched this ABC News report and was particularly interested in this man's final comment. (Why are we listening to someone who spouts anonymously again? Oh yes. We live in the world of zero accountability - neither required nor expected, so even our "experts" can hide behind the wizard's curtain.)
This ghostwriter of thousands of students' "original" works for hundreds of different types of classes at hundreds of different universities and colleges around America thinks that we, as faculty members and academics, should be less concerned with catching the cheaters and more concerned with why students cheat in the first place. This is actually a point upon which I must begrudgingly agree. Why DO students cheat?
Take a famous student athlete, for instance, who is accused, nay convicted, of cheating in an academic context. What is the consequence of this cheating? Well, the ostensible consequence to that student athlete is an F on his or her transcript, perhaps with a notation that the F was due to cheating (or very often, there is no such notation). Does he lose his scholarship, thus providing a tangible, concrete consequence? No. Is she benched for the season? No. Do all of the other students on campus who find out about said cheating lose faith in said student's athletic abilities? No. In other words, does ANYBODY care, in the end, that a particular student cheated and got caught on an assignment? No. Save for the individual professor who caught said student. And maybe the honesty committee members who slap the student's hand.
Just using this simple example, an example that I guarantee plays out every single semester at every single university and college in this nation, one can see that one potential reason that students cheat (or are sorely tempted to do so) is because there are no tangible, lasting consequences and nobody in authority over their educations and futures really cares (beyond endlessly bitching about it, which I've also been known to do.)
Consider another circumstance, one that is touched upon in the ABC News report. When a professor receives a paper that is clearly NOT in the student's voice or written with the student's actual proficiency level with language, that professor KNOWS it is not that student's work. But she uses Turnitin.com and Google to check for plagiarism and finds nothing. This merely leads to frustration, as she must then grade the paper on its merits and GIVE the student whatever grade that paper earned. Students who cheat know this. And that's also why they do it - they know that the chances of getting caught are incredibly slim (if they pay enough) and their prof will HAVE to grade the work because there is no evidence of plagiarism. This could be why some schools require all major essays be written IN class by hand. No cheating possible there, but hell to grade handwritten, scrabbly texts.
So far, the reasons I've been able to come up with for why students cheat include nobody in authority actually caring enough to punish cheating in a real, tangible way (throw Jimmy out of school? Heresy! Who would pay the bills, then?) and simply being able to get away with it. Those seem pretty reasonable to me. But how about that moral code that half the nation keeps bandying about as though it were so important? Ah yes, morality. That great divider of peoples between the right and wrong, the sinners and the saints. Where are these students' moral compasses, if at least half of them believe that they possess one?
Far from laying blame beyond the student, I would like to suggest that this much-touted moral code is nonexistent in our current mindset and social world. Morality or a sense of right and wrong no longer guides us in our decisions on a daily basis. What is easiest has replaced what is right. What is most convenient has replaced what is most satisfying. And what is fastest has replaced what will have the longest term benefit. We, the people, as a collective, are the reason students cheat with abandon.
Other thoughts and opinions are most welcome because I'm not sure what the answer is, but the problem is incredibly frustrating.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Rhetoric of Ownership
How much do you actually own? If you have an active mortgage that you are paying, you do not yet own your house, the bank owns it. If you are actively paying a car loan, then you don’t own your car (it isn’t yours, you commit inaccuracy when you say “mine”) it belongs to the finance company or bank that holds your loan. If, like me, you have student loan debt, then you technically don’t yet own your education even though you may be reaping the rewards already.
Bottom line, we don’t OWN anything until it is paid off in full. Only then is it MINE. But that logical perception is not the idea that we embrace. In America, we say “my car,” “my house,” “I bought furniture,” “I own a dishwasher,” which is all indicative of possession, instead of the more accurate “the bank’s car,” “the mortgage company’s house,” “Raymour & Flanigan’s furniture,” “Sears’ dishwasher.” We all do it. We tell ourselves and each other in ownership terms what we (technically don’t yet) possess.
In fact, this concept of ownership is built into our national rhetoric – if you do not “own” a home, you are somehow deficient as a citizen, as though taking on hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt somehow makes you a more responsible adult. Very few people actually understand what “equity” means and how it is a self-perpetuating system designed to keep us in hawk, buying and spending more and more until we are so beholden to the system that our grandchildren may need to sell off our “hard-won” possessions in order to pay off all that we will ultimately owe (not own).
The allure of “ownership”
When we own property, we are considered trustworthy, responsible, stake holding citizens capable of voting for the right politicians and making the right decisions to move the country forward. Therefore, the millions of people who do not have the cash position (or desire) to participate in this illusion are left out of the equation as untrustworthy, irresponsible, non-stakeholders whose perspectives are wrong for the future of our nation.
This single word damages and skews our view of reality, resulting in quick dismissal of views, opinions, and
perspectives of renters. In the summer 2008 issue of the Journal of Social History, a study of early 20th century home ownership campaigns in Atlanta appeared by scholar LeeAnn Lands: “Be a patriot, buy a home: Re-imagining home owners and home ownership in early 20th century Atlanta.” Specifically, the article examines “how Atlanta's land dealers were encouraged towards the national home-ownership trajectory, focusing on how the terms ‘home owner’ and ‘home ownership’ were charged with particular meanings that were, in the 1930s and 1940s, solidified in public policies and patriotic rhetoric.”
perspectives of renters. In the summer 2008 issue of the Journal of Social History, a study of early 20th century home ownership campaigns in Atlanta appeared by scholar LeeAnn Lands: “Be a patriot, buy a home: Re-imagining home owners and home ownership in early 20th century Atlanta.” Specifically, the article examines “how Atlanta's land dealers were encouraged towards the national home-ownership trajectory, focusing on how the terms ‘home owner’ and ‘home ownership’ were charged with particular meanings that were, in the 1930s and 1940s, solidified in public policies and patriotic rhetoric.”
With the government’s tacit approval, we easily dismiss renters’ perspectives on socioeconomic and political issues, voting for community standard-bearers who own a home (or three) and demonstrate the illusion of happy family and fulfilling career. When is the last time you voted for someone who rents in your community? Our political system, our national mythology, and our very sense of patriotism are inextricably shackled to the concept of ownership instead of communality, sacrifice, love, and tolerance. American history is replete with ravages made permissible by this powerful word; the sins committed in the name of ownership are many, including land theft, broken treaties, and global delusions of grandeur. Our market economy is built on the concept of ownership, which in this country is basically a lie because we misuse the term so vociferously.
Clouded visions
Our rhetorical inaccuracies may help us sleep better at night, but cloud our reality and blind us to the truth. “Our nation” is built, physically, on a lie. This land upon which we all currently sit and work once “belonged” to hundreds of indigenous tribes whose members numbered in the millions. As Europeans invaded the space, spied the fertility of the land and the potential of its resources, hundreds of rhetorical moves were made, like a deadly game of chess where the outcome was pre-determined. We, of any European descent, still benefit from the results of that calculated rhetorical game that changed reality for millions of tribal peoples. It was brilliant, really, and effective enough that we still speak in terms of owning this land today. Remember learning this Woodie Guthrie 1940 folk song in grade school?
This land is your land,
This land is my land,
From California
To the New York island...
...This land was made for you and me.
“This land was made for you and me” is historically inaccurate and factually wrong, but rhetorically powerful as a reinforcement of Euramerican depredations of Native territories as our ancestors sought to enact the idea of ownership on the grandest and most destructive scale possible. It is this reality that we celebrate with songs like Guthrie’s. As if we earned it. As if we should be proud of possessing it. But pride in ownership of anything where the price paid was much too high is suspect and reflects poorly on the character and morality of those who speak in such terms. Take the housing crisis.
How many people who couldn’t actually afford to pay a mortgage got a mortgage? And of those people, who put zero down and walked into a house three times the size of necessity and affordability, who are now in foreclosure, fought the bank by saying, “You have it wrong, we CAN afford this mortgage payment”? But the lure of “ownership” attracted them as surely as it compelled the mortgage company or bank to look the other way or ignore facts as those people filled out mortgage applications.
“Ownership” validates one’s existence in America. If you don’t “own,” you haven’t succeeded. Just listen to one of our former presidents: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVdTzPEYvH4
“If you own something, you have a vital stake in the future of America.” Wow. Thanks for making my case, W. In other words, if you don’t own anything, you don’t have a vital stake in the future of this nation and are, therefore, less worthy and less valuable as a citizen.
In 1998, Dr. Jack Goodman wrote the following for the National Multi Housing Council: “The pro-ownership rhetoric from government officials and business interests typically goes way beyond the facts. The benefits of homeownership often are overstated, and important drawbacks usually are ignored.” Specifically, these drawbacks include overrated investment value, imaginary financial benefits (such as tax breaks), and loss of “labor market mobility” when a better job in a different region comes along. Imagine if those people who are now losing their homes had heeded this advice.
The rhetoric of ownership only serves to divide us and set the stage for unrealistic ambitions and unhealthy desires that will ultimately go unfulfilled, which can lead to stress, frustration, and isolation when things don’t work out. Even worse is the stigma attached to those who don’t “own.” Who don’t even try to “own,” or (worse) have no desire to “own.” Instead of promoting ownership, our political, corporate, and financial leaders should be promoting community development, affordable and safe housing for renters, and the more abstract concept that our society collectively owns, but has turned its back on: the pursuit of happiness (not possessions).
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Art of Saying "No"
When a friend invites you to join a group or an event on Facebook, you have three options: Accept, Reject, or Ignore. In the world of Facebook and online interactions, ignoring requests for information or a confirmation of participation in an event, or even in support of a cause has become the ubiquitous response. In the world of Facebook, this is acceptable because we are bombarded with requests of all stripes and many choose to ignore them all so as to keep our profile pages less cluttered. That certainly seems rationale and acceptable...in the world of Facebook.
Slowly, like a creeping sludge destined to ruin the most fertile soil, this "Ignore" option has become more prevalent in real world RSVPs, threatening to ruin friendships (or, at the very least, diminish the standing of one person in the another's eyes). Courtesy, civility, and that old-fashioned concept, etiquitte, seem now truly to be antiques in a speedy, uncaring, self-absorbed world.
When is the last time you received either an electronic or paper invitation to an event or gathering? Do you recall how you responded? Did you respond right away? Did the host have to call or email a follow-up to goad a response? How about the last time you responded in the negative? Silence does not indicate "no," although that seems to be the assumption on the part of people who employ the "Ignore" option in personal invitation situations. (And one of my favorite bosses from my ad agency days used to have a great and well-worn statement that seems applicable here: When you assume, you make an ASS of U and ME.)
Sometimes silence means "I'm thinking about it and will ultimately decide to show up." Why not just tell the host this information? "Hey, thanks for the invite, I really want to come, but I'm waiting to hear about this conference - I'll let you know closer to that date." Why is this so difficult for so many people? However, this response is preferable to silence followed by showing up. This poses a problem for the event planner - namely, that this person is trying to PLAN the event more than 15 minutes in advance of its occurrence. Planning requires time and very often money, and decisions about seating and food, and sometimes reservations.
According to Cindy Post Senning on emilypost.com, "The manners and principles of good etiquette are learned behaviors. We are not born knowing the things to do to show respect. We learn them." Given the prevalence of discourteousness in responding to invitations, one might be inclined to blame those damn kids...but wait. In my experience, age is irrelevant in this problem. People in their 30s and 40s (and older), quite frankly, should have learned appropriate etiquette, even nominally, at some point in life. We all got invitations to friends' birthday parties and had to respond, usually by calling. So this behavior is learned and I am admittedly hardest on people who should know better. Those in their teens and 20s may or may not have learned because they don't remember a world without the Internet.
Over the past few years, I and my friends (of all ages) have been on the receiving end of silence (the "Ignore" option) when we have sent invitations to formal and informal gatherings. Perhaps you have as well, and are wondering what is causing an increase in this unfortunate behavior.
Once again to emilypost.com and the site's response to the question "What to do when guests don't RSVP." Part of the answer states, "It is inconsiderate, but unfortunately common, for guests to fail to RSVP. Some forget; others procrastinate and then feel guilty, so they delay even longer. To many a host on the non-receiving end of an RSVP, it seems as if an invitee is simply waiting for something “better” to possibly come along. One of the sad parts about the demise of the RSVP is that relationships often suffer due to hosts’ resultant hurt feelings and frustration."
Are people who ignore invitations even aware that this behavior is problematic? My guess is no. The emilypost.com response is quite diplomatic. Much more diplomatic than I'm about to be. Might I suggest that our devolution into the online world of abbreviated responses, permissive social norms, and the illusion of anonymity has made us rude. And that this rudeness does ruin friendships - there is a potentially tangible consequence to ignoring a personal invitation. We are all culpable here and should hold each other, as equal members of a functioning society, to a higher (and more etiquette-infused) standard.
Let's back up about 20 years.
Twenty years ago, in 1990, there was no common Internet. We got our news in newspapers and on CNN. There was no Google, Yahoo, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Skype. There was no AOL, the platform on which many of us got our first taste of email. Invitations came through the mail via the U.S. Postal Service, or by phone (and not cell phones, landlines). The world of 1990 was still an intimate, private world where face to face interactions and personal accountability for behavior was still valued. No one was perfect, and rudeness has always followed humans, but there was an expectation of a certain standard of behavior and people called rudeness by its proper name. Now to call ignoring invitations rude might invite derision or defensive invective. Furthermore, in the world of 1990, people generally knew, understood, and accepted the obligation of saying no to invitations. It was considered "common courtesy."
Saying no is not complicated or weighed down with intention. No one cares why you aren't coming, but do the event planner the courtesy of saying no. Don't want to go because the other invitees make your skin crawl? Irrelevant. A simple email stating, "I can't make it, but thanks for the invite" would suffice. Have other plans? Too tired? Also irrelevant. Just say no. Excuses neither desired nor required. How long do you suppose it took me to craft that simple email statement? Less than two seconds. To write it took another couple of seconds. To hit send would be another few moments. The time invested in crafting an invitation, arranging seating, planning and purchasing food and drink, and then cleaning in advance of guests' arrival is much higher, which is why (I suspect), emilypost.com states that it is an OBLIGATION of the invited guest to respond one way or the other.
Why have we allowed discourtesy to become so common as to render the art of saying "no" as irrelevant in our "modern" minds as books, newspapers, and Emily Post? Accept and Reject are viable options, as they always have been. Ignore just shows a basic disrespect for a friend, which is why the friendship probably won't last if silence is too often the response to invitations.
Slowly, like a creeping sludge destined to ruin the most fertile soil, this "Ignore" option has become more prevalent in real world RSVPs, threatening to ruin friendships (or, at the very least, diminish the standing of one person in the another's eyes). Courtesy, civility, and that old-fashioned concept, etiquitte, seem now truly to be antiques in a speedy, uncaring, self-absorbed world.
When is the last time you received either an electronic or paper invitation to an event or gathering? Do you recall how you responded? Did you respond right away? Did the host have to call or email a follow-up to goad a response? How about the last time you responded in the negative? Silence does not indicate "no," although that seems to be the assumption on the part of people who employ the "Ignore" option in personal invitation situations. (And one of my favorite bosses from my ad agency days used to have a great and well-worn statement that seems applicable here: When you assume, you make an ASS of U and ME.)
Sometimes silence means "I'm thinking about it and will ultimately decide to show up." Why not just tell the host this information? "Hey, thanks for the invite, I really want to come, but I'm waiting to hear about this conference - I'll let you know closer to that date." Why is this so difficult for so many people? However, this response is preferable to silence followed by showing up. This poses a problem for the event planner - namely, that this person is trying to PLAN the event more than 15 minutes in advance of its occurrence. Planning requires time and very often money, and decisions about seating and food, and sometimes reservations.
According to Cindy Post Senning on emilypost.com, "The manners and principles of good etiquette are learned behaviors. We are not born knowing the things to do to show respect. We learn them." Given the prevalence of discourteousness in responding to invitations, one might be inclined to blame those damn kids...but wait. In my experience, age is irrelevant in this problem. People in their 30s and 40s (and older), quite frankly, should have learned appropriate etiquette, even nominally, at some point in life. We all got invitations to friends' birthday parties and had to respond, usually by calling. So this behavior is learned and I am admittedly hardest on people who should know better. Those in their teens and 20s may or may not have learned because they don't remember a world without the Internet.
Over the past few years, I and my friends (of all ages) have been on the receiving end of silence (the "Ignore" option) when we have sent invitations to formal and informal gatherings. Perhaps you have as well, and are wondering what is causing an increase in this unfortunate behavior.
Once again to emilypost.com and the site's response to the question "What to do when guests don't RSVP." Part of the answer states, "It is inconsiderate, but unfortunately common, for guests to fail to RSVP. Some forget; others procrastinate and then feel guilty, so they delay even longer. To many a host on the non-receiving end of an RSVP, it seems as if an invitee is simply waiting for something “better” to possibly come along. One of the sad parts about the demise of the RSVP is that relationships often suffer due to hosts’ resultant hurt feelings and frustration."
Are people who ignore invitations even aware that this behavior is problematic? My guess is no. The emilypost.com response is quite diplomatic. Much more diplomatic than I'm about to be. Might I suggest that our devolution into the online world of abbreviated responses, permissive social norms, and the illusion of anonymity has made us rude. And that this rudeness does ruin friendships - there is a potentially tangible consequence to ignoring a personal invitation. We are all culpable here and should hold each other, as equal members of a functioning society, to a higher (and more etiquette-infused) standard.
Let's back up about 20 years.
Twenty years ago, in 1990, there was no common Internet. We got our news in newspapers and on CNN. There was no Google, Yahoo, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Skype. There was no AOL, the platform on which many of us got our first taste of email. Invitations came through the mail via the U.S. Postal Service, or by phone (and not cell phones, landlines). The world of 1990 was still an intimate, private world where face to face interactions and personal accountability for behavior was still valued. No one was perfect, and rudeness has always followed humans, but there was an expectation of a certain standard of behavior and people called rudeness by its proper name. Now to call ignoring invitations rude might invite derision or defensive invective. Furthermore, in the world of 1990, people generally knew, understood, and accepted the obligation of saying no to invitations. It was considered "common courtesy."
Saying no is not complicated or weighed down with intention. No one cares why you aren't coming, but do the event planner the courtesy of saying no. Don't want to go because the other invitees make your skin crawl? Irrelevant. A simple email stating, "I can't make it, but thanks for the invite" would suffice. Have other plans? Too tired? Also irrelevant. Just say no. Excuses neither desired nor required. How long do you suppose it took me to craft that simple email statement? Less than two seconds. To write it took another couple of seconds. To hit send would be another few moments. The time invested in crafting an invitation, arranging seating, planning and purchasing food and drink, and then cleaning in advance of guests' arrival is much higher, which is why (I suspect), emilypost.com states that it is an OBLIGATION of the invited guest to respond one way or the other.
Why have we allowed discourtesy to become so common as to render the art of saying "no" as irrelevant in our "modern" minds as books, newspapers, and Emily Post? Accept and Reject are viable options, as they always have been. Ignore just shows a basic disrespect for a friend, which is why the friendship probably won't last if silence is too often the response to invitations.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Student and Professor Rights & Responsibilities
Having just finished three straight days of student conferences (and having an hour before my three-hour evening class), I find myself ruminating on rights and responsibilities. Specifically, students' rights and responsibilities and professors' rights and responsibilities. What might those be?
To wit, when faced with a student who has written nothing for the extensive major project due two days from now and whose response, when asked why he would set himself up to do poorly on the assignment, involves some shrugging and a meek, "I don't know," I had what Jon Stewart might call a moment of zen. In this moment, I felt both revulsion and relief, disappointment and acceptance, confusion and clarity.
This paradox presents itself every semester when a few (not many, thank goodness) students sit across from me in my office and unabashedly (and sometimes apologetically) acknowledge their procrastination and the potential negative effect it will likely have on their performance in my class, as though they have no control over this behavior. They sometimes even make frank and unapologetic admissions, as my student this afternoon did when I asked if he procrastinates and ignores work in other classes, that no, in fact, he does all his work in all of his other classes. And when I further asked why he thought not doing the work in my class was a good idea, all I got in return was the look of wide-eyed disbelief at being called out.
Now that I have a moment to look back upon these three days that are designed to help students further their progress on their stories (after all, these conferences don't help ME) and perhaps clarify any points of confusion, I can happily report that only five of 50 students didn't show for a conference and only four of the conference attendees had not done any work on the project. As my officemate would say, that's an incredible percentage. That's over half who were prepared, had specific questions, and who I was able to guide and encourage. I agree, that's wonderful. But as a teacher, I can't help but wonder what is going on with the minority - the select special nine who seem to think that writing a complex, comprehensive humor-laden story with a specific underlying meaning can be done with any degree of satisfaction and passability the night before. Perhaps the answer lies in rights and responsibilities:
Professors have a right to expect college students.
Students have a right to behave as though they are still in high school.
Professors have a right to expect students to make good decisions, prepare for meetings, do the work of the class.
Students have a right to make bad decisions, come unprepared for meetings, and to ignore the work of the class.
Notice the difference in action. All we, as professors, have a right to is to expect responsible behavior...but that doesn't mean we are going to get it. Students, on the other hand, have two clear action paths - take the route of responsibility or the path of Halo/Madden/beer/girls/boys/pizza/lame excuses/sleep.
Understandably, these freshmen are overwhelmed by a new place, new and higher expectations, new people, living away from family and their childhood comfort zones. But so many students are successful in the transition that it always makes me question why those few seem unable or unwilling to take the right route.
Because here's the clincher - students in both groups expect to succeed based on their choices, decisions, and behaviors. This fact is what puts this conundrum into the realm of the unsolvable for me; this I cannot relate to in any way, shape, or manner.
Honestly, when I made bad decisions in my youth, I knew it. But I also knew to expect sometimes dire consequences and never thought to beg for a better grade when I wrote the paper two hours before it was due. Granted, this was my high school behavior and by the time I got to college, I straightened up pretty fast because I was paying for it myself and wanted to succeed. However, my first two years as a non-traditional student found me taking classes that I really hated - math and science. These were not even close to favorites and they were hard for me. But I never ignored the work. I always at least tried. And when I met with a professor, I had questions, perhaps instinctively understanding that arriving unprepared was a massive waste of this person's time...this person who might be able to help me...or take pity on me (etc, etc) and to waste said person's time might be truly devastating to my grade (ie, negative consequences).
Professors have a responsibility to teach the approved curriculum in the fashion they deem productive.
Students have a responsibility to...and here's where it gets fuzzy.
What IS a student's responsibility in this day and age at a university? My gut reaction to this question is directly informed by MY experiences and MY work ethic, which is decidedly at odds (very often) with the current generation of college-aged students. (Again, not all...but enough to make me continually return to this puzzlement.)
Ultimately, there are lots of ways I could complete that student responsibility statement, from snarky and smart-ass to serious and philosophical. But I'm not going to complete it. How would YOU finish that statement? And before you answer, ask yourself whether you are answering through your lens of experience, or whether you think it truly applies to today's college students. I'm looking forward to the responses!
To wit, when faced with a student who has written nothing for the extensive major project due two days from now and whose response, when asked why he would set himself up to do poorly on the assignment, involves some shrugging and a meek, "I don't know," I had what Jon Stewart might call a moment of zen. In this moment, I felt both revulsion and relief, disappointment and acceptance, confusion and clarity.
This paradox presents itself every semester when a few (not many, thank goodness) students sit across from me in my office and unabashedly (and sometimes apologetically) acknowledge their procrastination and the potential negative effect it will likely have on their performance in my class, as though they have no control over this behavior. They sometimes even make frank and unapologetic admissions, as my student this afternoon did when I asked if he procrastinates and ignores work in other classes, that no, in fact, he does all his work in all of his other classes. And when I further asked why he thought not doing the work in my class was a good idea, all I got in return was the look of wide-eyed disbelief at being called out.
Now that I have a moment to look back upon these three days that are designed to help students further their progress on their stories (after all, these conferences don't help ME) and perhaps clarify any points of confusion, I can happily report that only five of 50 students didn't show for a conference and only four of the conference attendees had not done any work on the project. As my officemate would say, that's an incredible percentage. That's over half who were prepared, had specific questions, and who I was able to guide and encourage. I agree, that's wonderful. But as a teacher, I can't help but wonder what is going on with the minority - the select special nine who seem to think that writing a complex, comprehensive humor-laden story with a specific underlying meaning can be done with any degree of satisfaction and passability the night before. Perhaps the answer lies in rights and responsibilities:
Professors have a right to expect college students.
Students have a right to behave as though they are still in high school.
Professors have a right to expect students to make good decisions, prepare for meetings, do the work of the class.
Students have a right to make bad decisions, come unprepared for meetings, and to ignore the work of the class.
Notice the difference in action. All we, as professors, have a right to is to expect responsible behavior...but that doesn't mean we are going to get it. Students, on the other hand, have two clear action paths - take the route of responsibility or the path of Halo/Madden/beer/girls/boys/pizza/lame excuses/sleep.
Understandably, these freshmen are overwhelmed by a new place, new and higher expectations, new people, living away from family and their childhood comfort zones. But so many students are successful in the transition that it always makes me question why those few seem unable or unwilling to take the right route.
Because here's the clincher - students in both groups expect to succeed based on their choices, decisions, and behaviors. This fact is what puts this conundrum into the realm of the unsolvable for me; this I cannot relate to in any way, shape, or manner.
Honestly, when I made bad decisions in my youth, I knew it. But I also knew to expect sometimes dire consequences and never thought to beg for a better grade when I wrote the paper two hours before it was due. Granted, this was my high school behavior and by the time I got to college, I straightened up pretty fast because I was paying for it myself and wanted to succeed. However, my first two years as a non-traditional student found me taking classes that I really hated - math and science. These were not even close to favorites and they were hard for me. But I never ignored the work. I always at least tried. And when I met with a professor, I had questions, perhaps instinctively understanding that arriving unprepared was a massive waste of this person's time...this person who might be able to help me...or take pity on me (etc, etc) and to waste said person's time might be truly devastating to my grade (ie, negative consequences).
Professors have a responsibility to teach the approved curriculum in the fashion they deem productive.
Students have a responsibility to...and here's where it gets fuzzy.
What IS a student's responsibility in this day and age at a university? My gut reaction to this question is directly informed by MY experiences and MY work ethic, which is decidedly at odds (very often) with the current generation of college-aged students. (Again, not all...but enough to make me continually return to this puzzlement.)
Ultimately, there are lots of ways I could complete that student responsibility statement, from snarky and smart-ass to serious and philosophical. But I'm not going to complete it. How would YOU finish that statement? And before you answer, ask yourself whether you are answering through your lens of experience, or whether you think it truly applies to today's college students. I'm looking forward to the responses!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Death in education
Within a week of each other, the following three articles were published in three different publications:
Chronicle of Higher Education: "10 Tips on How to Write Less Badly"
New York Times: "Forget What You Know About Good Study Habits"
Philadephia Inquirer: "The Lecture is Dead"
What these articles have in common thematically is death: death of diligence, perseverance, and work ethic even at the highest levels of the education community; death of attention-span, common-sense, and structure of any kind for students; and these articles also lay the foundation for what seems to be coming faster than some of us would like: the death of the traditional college classroom where we interact face-to-face two-three times per week with our students, getting to know them and their personalities, quirks, and strengths. At worst, taken together, these articles announce the result of decades of growing laziness, convenience-addictions, and computer-assisted-dependence. At best, these articles are identifying serious and fundamental problems in the education system for the participants.
When it comes to academics writing "less badly," which my students just loved as a title (oh yes, I made my college composition students read that article for information and perhaps some relief that none of us writers are perfect), the biggest problem seems to be an over-abundance of self-importance and a lack of gritty work-ethic. Especially in grad school when it comes to finishing projects like dissertations on time. And everyone in the academy knows someone who fits Munger's "poseur writer" description, right down to the hipster skinny jeans and too-cool-for-school scarf or jaunty hat on a head so filled with ego that no real (and useful) ideas may penetrate.
For most of us, Munger's assessment is not shocking or even remotely surprising, but for those outside the ivory tower, his pronouncements may be unsettling. After all, aren't we supposed be advanced and hard-working idea people and wordsmiths cranking out publications for our own and our home universities' glory? Well, yes, but have you seen the average teaching/service workload for a tenure-track professor recently? This is something I'm recently discovering, although only three weeks into it and I did manage to find time to complete a book review. But maybe I'm just the weird, old-school one who works too hard and believes in deadlines? (And I also don't spend 4.5 hours per day on Facebook.)
As for the death of study habits, well, no shit. Hell, in 1987 when I was in high school, you could count my study habits with one fist. Namely, I had none. And certainly, secluding myself away in a little corner with a desk, a lamp, a hard chair, and no noise would have driven my teenage mind bonkers. Only later, after a career in advertising and one in journalism, when I returned for my advanced degrees did I discover the need and joy for silence when I studied. And usually in a soft, comfy chair with a cup of tea or Diet Coke or water and with my cat, Lucy, climbing all over me.
But the problem isn't when and where and how students study, it's that they don't study. And they don't care enough to retain new information. Well, many of them. Admittedly, I've only taught 400 students (not including my current 90) over the short four years I've been teaching in the university setting, but many of my students were so tightly and narrowly focused on one particular career goal (engineer, accountant, "business"...whatever the hell that means anymore) that they resisted giving thought-space to subjects that the university deemed valuable such as world literature and writing. Mostly, my students were swell but were more interested in just getting through those classes than in actually LEARNING and RETAINING anything. So in today's university setting, which is becoming more and more consumer-oriented with outcomes and goals that read like a fact sheet for the Widget Factory, with every piece in its narrow place, the value of studying subjects outside one's specialty/major may be in danger of being de-valued.
Thinking about devaluation, that last article is both true and a little scary. On one hand, I agree that lectures don't really work - students fall asleep, have the attention-span of a gnat (when it's not something they are already interested in), and are easily distracted by other more exciting tasks like texting, doodling, making paper footballs, and staring slack-jawed into space. I've seen it happen, which is why I chose to conduct my world lit survey classes without one lecture from me. I made the students present and lead class discussion (with me chiming in to add details, ask questions, and provide background when appropriate). Every day. And despite some hearty fear and resistance at first, they delivered tremendously and did (imho) get more out of those discussions than they ever would have by me just talking at them for an hour a day. So yes, I agree the lecture is dead, but my concern is what university administrations are doing with this type of information.
If the classroom is no longer a place where students are lectured at by brilliant PhDs, why have a classroom at all? Why not go online? In fact, why hire PhDs to teach those online courses? Why not hire Tony Robbins-esque type public speaking dynamos and give them a pre-crafted syllabus and readings and let them loose to dazzle the students via video-pod?
I'll be honest. This unnerves me because I did not become a professor to teach solely online, but I do see that's the direction of most universities because online education is a solid money-maker. And considering the speed at which things change nowadays, I'm wondering how long I have to create interesting, discussion-based, classroom-grounded environments in which my students can get to know me, each other, and some new useful material. Five years? Ten? More? Less?
I'm not averse to hybrid courses where students come to class once a week and then are responsible for a vast amount of work on their own time. That seems a smart compromise. But going online 100%? I'm not convinced that is the right direction to educate vast numbers of young people (undergraduates) who already spend too much time in front of their computer and TV screens.
Although, that would create the perfect workers who are content to sit for 10-12 hours a day at a computer screen in their pajamas...who would fit cog-like into the Widget Factory's concept of uncomplaining and controllable worker productivity at low cost, would it not?
Chronicle of Higher Education: "10 Tips on How to Write Less Badly"
New York Times: "Forget What You Know About Good Study Habits"
Philadephia Inquirer: "The Lecture is Dead"
What these articles have in common thematically is death: death of diligence, perseverance, and work ethic even at the highest levels of the education community; death of attention-span, common-sense, and structure of any kind for students; and these articles also lay the foundation for what seems to be coming faster than some of us would like: the death of the traditional college classroom where we interact face-to-face two-three times per week with our students, getting to know them and their personalities, quirks, and strengths. At worst, taken together, these articles announce the result of decades of growing laziness, convenience-addictions, and computer-assisted-dependence. At best, these articles are identifying serious and fundamental problems in the education system for the participants.
When it comes to academics writing "less badly," which my students just loved as a title (oh yes, I made my college composition students read that article for information and perhaps some relief that none of us writers are perfect), the biggest problem seems to be an over-abundance of self-importance and a lack of gritty work-ethic. Especially in grad school when it comes to finishing projects like dissertations on time. And everyone in the academy knows someone who fits Munger's "poseur writer" description, right down to the hipster skinny jeans and too-cool-for-school scarf or jaunty hat on a head so filled with ego that no real (and useful) ideas may penetrate.
For most of us, Munger's assessment is not shocking or even remotely surprising, but for those outside the ivory tower, his pronouncements may be unsettling. After all, aren't we supposed be advanced and hard-working idea people and wordsmiths cranking out publications for our own and our home universities' glory? Well, yes, but have you seen the average teaching/service workload for a tenure-track professor recently? This is something I'm recently discovering, although only three weeks into it and I did manage to find time to complete a book review. But maybe I'm just the weird, old-school one who works too hard and believes in deadlines? (And I also don't spend 4.5 hours per day on Facebook.)
As for the death of study habits, well, no shit. Hell, in 1987 when I was in high school, you could count my study habits with one fist. Namely, I had none. And certainly, secluding myself away in a little corner with a desk, a lamp, a hard chair, and no noise would have driven my teenage mind bonkers. Only later, after a career in advertising and one in journalism, when I returned for my advanced degrees did I discover the need and joy for silence when I studied. And usually in a soft, comfy chair with a cup of tea or Diet Coke or water and with my cat, Lucy, climbing all over me.
But the problem isn't when and where and how students study, it's that they don't study. And they don't care enough to retain new information. Well, many of them. Admittedly, I've only taught 400 students (not including my current 90) over the short four years I've been teaching in the university setting, but many of my students were so tightly and narrowly focused on one particular career goal (engineer, accountant, "business"...whatever the hell that means anymore) that they resisted giving thought-space to subjects that the university deemed valuable such as world literature and writing. Mostly, my students were swell but were more interested in just getting through those classes than in actually LEARNING and RETAINING anything. So in today's university setting, which is becoming more and more consumer-oriented with outcomes and goals that read like a fact sheet for the Widget Factory, with every piece in its narrow place, the value of studying subjects outside one's specialty/major may be in danger of being de-valued.
Thinking about devaluation, that last article is both true and a little scary. On one hand, I agree that lectures don't really work - students fall asleep, have the attention-span of a gnat (when it's not something they are already interested in), and are easily distracted by other more exciting tasks like texting, doodling, making paper footballs, and staring slack-jawed into space. I've seen it happen, which is why I chose to conduct my world lit survey classes without one lecture from me. I made the students present and lead class discussion (with me chiming in to add details, ask questions, and provide background when appropriate). Every day. And despite some hearty fear and resistance at first, they delivered tremendously and did (imho) get more out of those discussions than they ever would have by me just talking at them for an hour a day. So yes, I agree the lecture is dead, but my concern is what university administrations are doing with this type of information.
If the classroom is no longer a place where students are lectured at by brilliant PhDs, why have a classroom at all? Why not go online? In fact, why hire PhDs to teach those online courses? Why not hire Tony Robbins-esque type public speaking dynamos and give them a pre-crafted syllabus and readings and let them loose to dazzle the students via video-pod?
I'll be honest. This unnerves me because I did not become a professor to teach solely online, but I do see that's the direction of most universities because online education is a solid money-maker. And considering the speed at which things change nowadays, I'm wondering how long I have to create interesting, discussion-based, classroom-grounded environments in which my students can get to know me, each other, and some new useful material. Five years? Ten? More? Less?
I'm not averse to hybrid courses where students come to class once a week and then are responsible for a vast amount of work on their own time. That seems a smart compromise. But going online 100%? I'm not convinced that is the right direction to educate vast numbers of young people (undergraduates) who already spend too much time in front of their computer and TV screens.
Although, that would create the perfect workers who are content to sit for 10-12 hours a day at a computer screen in their pajamas...who would fit cog-like into the Widget Factory's concept of uncomplaining and controllable worker productivity at low cost, would it not?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Goals and expectations of new college writers
When you were in college, did you ever ignore assignments that were either being graded directly or were being included in your overall grade? My four composition classes had a blog post due this Monday by midnight. Both sections of College Comp have 25 students - in one section, 22 students posted, in the other, 17 posted. In my Advanced Comp class, only three students haven't posted and two were because I had to re-submit their invitations, so they will likely post before Wed. In my Intro to College Comp course, I have 19 students...only four posted a blog entry. Even after my emailed reminder last night at 8pm. In fact, about four students didn't even respond to the blog invitation email.
I admit, I'm confused by this. The class blog is part of the participation grade, which is 20% of the overall course grade (and this is not only listed in the syllabus, we also went over this in class). And I see the students' names - they accepted the invite and started a profile. My goals and expectations for this semester include helping students improve and expand their writing skills and abilities by blogging (a great idea that my friend, AHab, successfully used in her World Lit class this past summer - and she inspired me to give blogging a try with my students). So far, I count the blogs a success in three of the classes...and I can't wait to find out why so many students in the Intro class set up their accounts and then promptly didn't do the assigned post listed on the class schedule. I can honestly say that once I got to college, I never just blew off an assignment that my professors gave me, especially those that were included in my grade. To me, this indicates high school thinking where homework is quickly becoming extinct (according to my friend, Mo, whose stepson's school has stopped providing any homework).
The upside to the blogs and the students who ARE participating is the opportunity to express themselves in a different type of environment that is so prevalent in contemporary society. Many of them have never blogged and are excited to get some practice. The first prompt was simply a reflection on where they are as writers and what goals and expectations they have for the class. Not surprisingly, many of them share similar concerns such as wanting to increase their creativity with writing, improve their overall confidence as writers, and put more of their individual voices or personalities into their writing (especially in more formal and "academic" writing assignments).
One student wrote that he has trouble starting and wants to know how good writers get started. This prompted a lengthy in-class discussion today about what students mean when they say "good" writers. This transitioned to a related issue - what they define as "the wrong way" (don't use "that," "like," any contractions, "I" or anything creative) and "the right way" to write academic papers. As it turns out, they define "good" writers as successful, memorable, experienced, published writers. When I asked them if they thought that was a realistic goal for a 15 week composition course, many of them nodded yes. I shook my head no, prompting some nervous giggles. I explained that writers who fit that description have been writing for years and that's the only way to get "good." So we discussed more realistic goals - striving to improve in specific areas, but leaving the idea of perfection out of it.
Vocabulary was another big issue that many students raised. They want to know more words so that when they write they aren't repeating the same ones over and over; they want to get away from simple words and become more adept with complex and advanced words so they can "sound smart." Although I hated to burst their bubbles of expectation, I had to inform them that the only way to expand and improve their vocabularies is to read more frequently and more varied materials. In my 10am class, when I asked for a show of hands of how many read a newspaper once a week, only two hands went up. When I asked how many read blogs or online news sites, no hands went up. When I asked how many read a novel or some short fiction each week, about four hands went up. When I asked how many read magazines of some kind weekly, about 2/3 of the class raised their hands. This prompted my explanation that in order to improve vocabulary and acuity with language, they need to pick another type of writing and read it regularly. Relying on a thesaurus is an adequate quick-fix, but doesn't solve the problem. The danger is that they won't understand the nuanced meaning of the word and end up sounding confused and unclear in their meaning. The more diverse their reading, the more skills they will pick up for their writing. No magic bullet there. Some seemed genuinely disappointed.
My favorite is the five paragraph essay complaint, or what one student lamented as wanting to "break out of the high school writing shell." Almost every student raised this issue as a style they would like to get away from and fortunately, I agree. Nothing they will read is in this restricted and confined format and hopefully, they will become more comfortable breaking themselves of this high school habit. This format certainly helps as a foundation for organization and structure, but is really limited as far as helping anyone develop more advanced writing skills.
Finally, the most interesting goal that many students shared was a desire to stop procrastinating. They were very honest about being heavy procrastinators and how much that has hurt their grades and performance in the past. They realize that writing takes time and doesn't just happen, but admit how much they struggle to start projects early and not wait until the last minute. I hope they achieve this goal most of all because if they start early, they will have the opportunity to get substantive feedback from me and their peers on drafts and pieces of projects well before the due dates.
Having goals and expectations at the start of the semester is one thing, but working to achieve those goals requires commitment, sustained diligence, and a strong work ethic. Hopefully my students, particularly the Intro class, will embrace these characteristics or at least try them on and take them for a test drive in order to bring their goals to fruition.
I admit, I'm confused by this. The class blog is part of the participation grade, which is 20% of the overall course grade (and this is not only listed in the syllabus, we also went over this in class). And I see the students' names - they accepted the invite and started a profile. My goals and expectations for this semester include helping students improve and expand their writing skills and abilities by blogging (a great idea that my friend, AHab, successfully used in her World Lit class this past summer - and she inspired me to give blogging a try with my students). So far, I count the blogs a success in three of the classes...and I can't wait to find out why so many students in the Intro class set up their accounts and then promptly didn't do the assigned post listed on the class schedule. I can honestly say that once I got to college, I never just blew off an assignment that my professors gave me, especially those that were included in my grade. To me, this indicates high school thinking where homework is quickly becoming extinct (according to my friend, Mo, whose stepson's school has stopped providing any homework).
The upside to the blogs and the students who ARE participating is the opportunity to express themselves in a different type of environment that is so prevalent in contemporary society. Many of them have never blogged and are excited to get some practice. The first prompt was simply a reflection on where they are as writers and what goals and expectations they have for the class. Not surprisingly, many of them share similar concerns such as wanting to increase their creativity with writing, improve their overall confidence as writers, and put more of their individual voices or personalities into their writing (especially in more formal and "academic" writing assignments).
One student wrote that he has trouble starting and wants to know how good writers get started. This prompted a lengthy in-class discussion today about what students mean when they say "good" writers. This transitioned to a related issue - what they define as "the wrong way" (don't use "that," "like," any contractions, "I" or anything creative) and "the right way" to write academic papers. As it turns out, they define "good" writers as successful, memorable, experienced, published writers. When I asked them if they thought that was a realistic goal for a 15 week composition course, many of them nodded yes. I shook my head no, prompting some nervous giggles. I explained that writers who fit that description have been writing for years and that's the only way to get "good." So we discussed more realistic goals - striving to improve in specific areas, but leaving the idea of perfection out of it.
Vocabulary was another big issue that many students raised. They want to know more words so that when they write they aren't repeating the same ones over and over; they want to get away from simple words and become more adept with complex and advanced words so they can "sound smart." Although I hated to burst their bubbles of expectation, I had to inform them that the only way to expand and improve their vocabularies is to read more frequently and more varied materials. In my 10am class, when I asked for a show of hands of how many read a newspaper once a week, only two hands went up. When I asked how many read blogs or online news sites, no hands went up. When I asked how many read a novel or some short fiction each week, about four hands went up. When I asked how many read magazines of some kind weekly, about 2/3 of the class raised their hands. This prompted my explanation that in order to improve vocabulary and acuity with language, they need to pick another type of writing and read it regularly. Relying on a thesaurus is an adequate quick-fix, but doesn't solve the problem. The danger is that they won't understand the nuanced meaning of the word and end up sounding confused and unclear in their meaning. The more diverse their reading, the more skills they will pick up for their writing. No magic bullet there. Some seemed genuinely disappointed.
My favorite is the five paragraph essay complaint, or what one student lamented as wanting to "break out of the high school writing shell." Almost every student raised this issue as a style they would like to get away from and fortunately, I agree. Nothing they will read is in this restricted and confined format and hopefully, they will become more comfortable breaking themselves of this high school habit. This format certainly helps as a foundation for organization and structure, but is really limited as far as helping anyone develop more advanced writing skills.
Finally, the most interesting goal that many students shared was a desire to stop procrastinating. They were very honest about being heavy procrastinators and how much that has hurt their grades and performance in the past. They realize that writing takes time and doesn't just happen, but admit how much they struggle to start projects early and not wait until the last minute. I hope they achieve this goal most of all because if they start early, they will have the opportunity to get substantive feedback from me and their peers on drafts and pieces of projects well before the due dates.
Having goals and expectations at the start of the semester is one thing, but working to achieve those goals requires commitment, sustained diligence, and a strong work ethic. Hopefully my students, particularly the Intro class, will embrace these characteristics or at least try them on and take them for a test drive in order to bring their goals to fruition.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Answer: Stamina, endurance, energy, and enthusiasm
Question: What do university professors need to teach a 4/4 load, be active scholars, and involved community members?
This is no surprise to me, really, but living it is so very different from anticipating it. My first day of teaching occurred today, although I have been having orientation activities and meetings for a week. Only Wednesdays will be this long, but here is a breakdown of my very first day as a university professor:
7:30-8:30am Awake, shower, prep, primp, chai, check bag for handouts, flashdrive, notebook, lunch, and water bottle.
9:00-9:50am Arrive at office, print assignment sheets and make copies, collect syllabus copies, chat with officemate and various other friendly faculty in copy room. Chug some water.
10-10:50am Introduce self and syllabus to energetic (and slightly scared) freshman in College Composition, give students time to partner up and interview each other and then introduce partner to class. Distribute first short assignment, dismiss class, field several initial questions and students personally introducing themselves.
11-11:45a Office hour during which one student from 10a class came in, sat down in the chair next to my desk and told me she's scared of writing and is very unsure about this first assignment. Also, that she doesn't have a user name, so can't access her KU email. In response to the latter, I picked up the phone and dialed the IT Helpdesk and sat on hold while talking her down and helping her to see how she could successfully write this brief assignment in a way that fit the parameters, but also used her language and expressions, and was possibly fun to write. Eventually had her leave a message for IT and encouraged her to email them as well since they are likely bombarded today. Told her not to give up on IT, be persistent, and also confirmed that she felt better about writing this assignment. Ate some petite sweet pickles, roasted red pepper hummus and wheat fiber crackers. Chugged some water.
11:45-55a Realized I didn't have enough assignment sheet copies for 1pm class, so made more.
11:55a-12:54p Comp Conversation weekly meeting with faculty teaching comp. Very funny and informative meeting - basically, I have amazing, smart, creative colleagues who are willing to share their expertise and ideas. What a fortunate place to have landed!
12:55-1p Walked to DeFran building and immediately got lost, circling various loops through hallways before accidentally stumbling upon my classroom.
1-1:50p See 10-10:50a - repeat.
1:50-1:55p Walk back to Lytle Hall and find classroom.
2-2:50p See 1-1:50p, except instead of introducing their partners to the class, the students spent 25 minutes talking to their partners, which must be continued outside of class in order to complete the first short assignment - Who is your partner? It's an exercise in identity creation/definition. This first part has someone describe and present who you are - the second part will be the student's chance to write his or her own story. Who you are according to someone else vs. who you are according to you.
2:55-3:15p Head to car, drive to other side of campus, get lost in a maze of parking lots trying to locate the Multicultural Center. Finally see it (very obvious place that I totally missed on the way in). Park, head to director's office.
3:15-4:30p Have delightful and supportive meeting with Director and Assistant Director and Graduate Assistant of the Center about 1) the feasibility of bringing two Native American stand-up comedians in my acquaintance to campus next fall (apparently, there is money and space for this sort of thing, so feasibility is high), and 2) developing a Multiethnic Film Series for next fall. Completely successful, early-in-the-process meeting. Lots of great ideas exchanged and a plan of attack. Sweetness!
4:30-4:50 Sit in sweltering car responding to a few emails, then drive to Betty's for a portabello pesto wrap, small three-cheese & mushroom soup, diet birch beer, and a peanut butter brownie...to go. Gaze out window while waiting for food, wondering how I'm going to make it through a three-hour class....
4:50-5:55p Head back to office with delicious dinner items, check emails while eating, load up bag so I can head home when class is over.
5:55-6p Walk into a sweltering classroom with melting students. Walk out mumbling "oh hell no" partially under my breath. Quickly scout two open classrooms, return to sauna and look at prof who taught in that room before my class. I say, "Room 212 is open." He responds, dripping with sweat, "GO." We do.
6-8:30p New classroom also has an oscillating fan, which I turn on high and position to cool the students down. This is my advanced comp class and already I can tell how on the ball all of these students are. Solid, smart conversations and debates, some teasing and joking back and forth. Good rapport right away. Several thank me for moving classrooms (I wouldn't want to teach in a sauna, as I explained). A handful even offered that they were excited about this class and the possibility of picking a social or cultural issue that they thought was important and to write about it in different ways all semester. No one looked at a watch, no one looked bored, conversations were lively. They gave me energy and I left class wide awake and just as excited at the end of the day as I was at the beginning.
8:35-9p Called mom to give her the day's overview (knew she was wondering) while driving home.
.....
10:58pm Bedtime and the sweet, calm dreams that are only possible when life is working in your favor. Realizing once and for all that yes, all that hard work, time, energy, sacrifice, heartache, frustration, obstacles, and annoyance was worth it. Yes it was. I'm there. It happened faster than I expected. :)
This is no surprise to me, really, but living it is so very different from anticipating it. My first day of teaching occurred today, although I have been having orientation activities and meetings for a week. Only Wednesdays will be this long, but here is a breakdown of my very first day as a university professor:
7:30-8:30am Awake, shower, prep, primp, chai, check bag for handouts, flashdrive, notebook, lunch, and water bottle.
9:00-9:50am Arrive at office, print assignment sheets and make copies, collect syllabus copies, chat with officemate and various other friendly faculty in copy room. Chug some water.
10-10:50am Introduce self and syllabus to energetic (and slightly scared) freshman in College Composition, give students time to partner up and interview each other and then introduce partner to class. Distribute first short assignment, dismiss class, field several initial questions and students personally introducing themselves.
11-11:45a Office hour during which one student from 10a class came in, sat down in the chair next to my desk and told me she's scared of writing and is very unsure about this first assignment. Also, that she doesn't have a user name, so can't access her KU email. In response to the latter, I picked up the phone and dialed the IT Helpdesk and sat on hold while talking her down and helping her to see how she could successfully write this brief assignment in a way that fit the parameters, but also used her language and expressions, and was possibly fun to write. Eventually had her leave a message for IT and encouraged her to email them as well since they are likely bombarded today. Told her not to give up on IT, be persistent, and also confirmed that she felt better about writing this assignment. Ate some petite sweet pickles, roasted red pepper hummus and wheat fiber crackers. Chugged some water.
11:45-55a Realized I didn't have enough assignment sheet copies for 1pm class, so made more.
11:55a-12:54p Comp Conversation weekly meeting with faculty teaching comp. Very funny and informative meeting - basically, I have amazing, smart, creative colleagues who are willing to share their expertise and ideas. What a fortunate place to have landed!
12:55-1p Walked to DeFran building and immediately got lost, circling various loops through hallways before accidentally stumbling upon my classroom.
1-1:50p See 10-10:50a - repeat.
1:50-1:55p Walk back to Lytle Hall and find classroom.
2-2:50p See 1-1:50p, except instead of introducing their partners to the class, the students spent 25 minutes talking to their partners, which must be continued outside of class in order to complete the first short assignment - Who is your partner? It's an exercise in identity creation/definition. This first part has someone describe and present who you are - the second part will be the student's chance to write his or her own story. Who you are according to someone else vs. who you are according to you.
2:55-3:15p Head to car, drive to other side of campus, get lost in a maze of parking lots trying to locate the Multicultural Center. Finally see it (very obvious place that I totally missed on the way in). Park, head to director's office.
3:15-4:30p Have delightful and supportive meeting with Director and Assistant Director and Graduate Assistant of the Center about 1) the feasibility of bringing two Native American stand-up comedians in my acquaintance to campus next fall (apparently, there is money and space for this sort of thing, so feasibility is high), and 2) developing a Multiethnic Film Series for next fall. Completely successful, early-in-the-process meeting. Lots of great ideas exchanged and a plan of attack. Sweetness!
4:30-4:50 Sit in sweltering car responding to a few emails, then drive to Betty's for a portabello pesto wrap, small three-cheese & mushroom soup, diet birch beer, and a peanut butter brownie...to go. Gaze out window while waiting for food, wondering how I'm going to make it through a three-hour class....
4:50-5:55p Head back to office with delicious dinner items, check emails while eating, load up bag so I can head home when class is over.
5:55-6p Walk into a sweltering classroom with melting students. Walk out mumbling "oh hell no" partially under my breath. Quickly scout two open classrooms, return to sauna and look at prof who taught in that room before my class. I say, "Room 212 is open." He responds, dripping with sweat, "GO." We do.
6-8:30p New classroom also has an oscillating fan, which I turn on high and position to cool the students down. This is my advanced comp class and already I can tell how on the ball all of these students are. Solid, smart conversations and debates, some teasing and joking back and forth. Good rapport right away. Several thank me for moving classrooms (I wouldn't want to teach in a sauna, as I explained). A handful even offered that they were excited about this class and the possibility of picking a social or cultural issue that they thought was important and to write about it in different ways all semester. No one looked at a watch, no one looked bored, conversations were lively. They gave me energy and I left class wide awake and just as excited at the end of the day as I was at the beginning.
8:35-9p Called mom to give her the day's overview (knew she was wondering) while driving home.
.....
10:58pm Bedtime and the sweet, calm dreams that are only possible when life is working in your favor. Realizing once and for all that yes, all that hard work, time, energy, sacrifice, heartache, frustration, obstacles, and annoyance was worth it. Yes it was. I'm there. It happened faster than I expected. :)
Sunday, August 29, 2010
A (not so) simple question
When the server came to my table this morning, I already knew what I wanted for my post-hike meal: two eggs, hash browns, wheat toast, and strawberries. But two questions nagged at me that I lost the nerve to ask: Where did the eggs come from? Where did the strawberries come from?
These simple questions are loaded with implications and could potentially be received as negative or critical of the business. The diner was packed, my server was rushed, and it just didn't seem appropriate to ask, but I do want to start asking these types of questions because I do care about where my food comes from. What country, what state, what the conditions are for the animals before they are slaughtered. In fact, what has got me thinking more about food as a safety and humane issue are several related things.
Gene Bauer, author of Farm Sanctuary , detailing his work on the nonprofit place that he started in Watkins Glen, NY (http://www.farmsanctuary.org/), is coming to my campus to speak on Sept. 15. The moment I saw that announcement, I knew I wanted to incorporate his talk and an excerpt from his text into my Advanced Composition class. Our theme this semester is "pressing social and cultural issues," so I figured this would be a good one for us to start with before students go off and pick a topic that interests them. So I bought his book and read it in order to know which excerpts to give my students.
Honestly, I have several friends who are vegetarian or vegan, and am an animal lover and nature hound myself, and I also consider myself fairly well-read on a wide variety of topics. But the systemic abuse of both people and animals and the extraordinary levels of cruelty and malice built into the corporate farming industry makes me sick. Baby chickens being ground up ALIVE in wood chipper-type machinery? Feeding corn, dead chicken parts, and feces to cows messes with their digestive systems (I'm stunned), thus causing a ripe in-body environment for rabid strains of e-coli to grow? Starving male calves and holding them in pens so tiny they can't turn around so their flesh is soft and white (veal)? Boiling chickens alive? These are just some of the real-life horrors revealed in books like Bauer's and movies like Food, Inc. and I definitely think it is high time that we all start educating ourselves on where our food comes from and how these animals are treated or we cannot call ourselves a humane country. Period.
Bauer's book inspired me to do something I've been postponing for months because I knew how horrifying it was before even watching a minute: I watched the documentary Food, Inc. And yes, it is as hideous as you might expect - but also necessary. Books like Bauer's and documentaries like Food, Inc. expose a human-built system that completely disregards other species' rights wholesale. Even the idea that cows, chickens, and pigs feel pain. How can ANYONE think that these creatures don't feel pain? My god, I stopped fishing because I knew I was hurting the fish when I stunned it and then killed it. They squeak. Did you know that? Fish squeak when you kill them. (Aside: I do still eat fish, but only store-bought and only wild-caught, not farm-raised, and only occasionally.)
These texts also unveil many facts that the average consumer wouldn't know such as the reason junk food is so cheap is because those are the crops/products that are the most heavily subsidized because they are actually VERY EXPENSIVE to produce! This, to me, was a revelation. Perhaps it is something I should have known, being as highly educated as I am. But this is just one of the facts that I've since started looking into. Another is this lovely tidbit - according to the data in Food, Inc. 90% of the hamburger meat that is processed in this country goes through an AMMONIA BATH to kill e-coli.
AMMONIA. (Don't believe me? Go ahead. Read up: http://www.foodsafetynews.com/2010/01/nyt-discloses-pink-slime-they-call-hamburger/
I'm done ordering burgers. And no more grocery story meat. Not that I eat a lot of meat in the first place, but that lovely gem has solidified my resolve to purchase meat from local farmers who actually raise the animals, kill them and cut them up without any chemicals. These farmers live with these animals, care for them, and are as intimately involved in the killing process as anyone would wish to be. They do it by hand. Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite (maybe we're all hypocrites) because I'm willing to let someone else kill that animal for me. But that's a dilemma for another day...
The best way to guarantee our meat comes from local farmers is to shop at farmers markets where at least most of the produce, meats, and dairy are local or regional. Also, for a foodie like myself, I relish exquisite food, but haven't eaten veal since I was 23 because there is no reason to eat a baby cow. None. I suppose I will eventually become a vegetarian the way this is all affecting me, but in the meantime, I will try to seek out restaurants and stores that sell locally-produced meat, dairy, and produce. I have found two restaurants and several farmer's markets - that's a good start.
While thinking on these horrifying facts, I picked up a copy of today's Allentown Morning Call, my local paper. And look what the lead story is on the front page of the Sunday paper:
PA egg safety rules a model for coming federal regulations
At first blush, this article is very positive. PA is breaking new ground in voluntarily protecting consumers from salmonella in eggs. We're leading the charge, the feds are following, and my goodness, the FDA may again have the power to inspect places that process the food! Egads, what a concept.
But these chicken houses (in the photos) in Lancaster have 100,000 birds crammed into them on tilted metal grates on top of each other. According to Bauer's firsthand evidence, the grates cause broken feet and bones, the tilt causes the hens to never really be able to settle in so they are always moving, and the moment these hens stop producing at a high rate, they are sent to a slaughterhouse to be ground up into chicken nuggets or cow feed. This is humane? No. Would any one of us want to live this way? No. Then why have we rationalized away our basic sense of decency and humane treatment? We coddle our cats and dogs, feeding them organic specialized diets (or at least that's what my Lucy eats), exercising them, playing with them, buying them toys and fluffy beds...while the animals who are responsible for producing or becoming our steak dinner/chicken fingers/milkshake are treated as inanimate, unfeeling objects incapable of thinking or feeling pain.
Seriously?!
Seriously.
So my resolve was hindered this morning, but no more. I love diners, but I want the diners that I frequent to know that at least one of their customers cares where her eggs and strawberries came from. And the next time I visit that diner, which will probably the next time I hike the nearby nature preserve, I will make it a point to ask. And if they say "we don't know" or "from the store" or name a large manufacturing company - basically, any answer other than "X farm right down the road," I will very politely ask why not the farm down the road? And make a suggestion that they consider doing so.
Other changes I'm now committed to making include buying almost exclusively from farmer's markets and I am fortunate to live in a place with several permanent markets to choose from. And this includes animals for food - I've found an Amish farm that raises bison and chickens. I'm sure there are more if I just start looking. Might I suggest you do the same?
These simple questions are loaded with implications and could potentially be received as negative or critical of the business. The diner was packed, my server was rushed, and it just didn't seem appropriate to ask, but I do want to start asking these types of questions because I do care about where my food comes from. What country, what state, what the conditions are for the animals before they are slaughtered. In fact, what has got me thinking more about food as a safety and humane issue are several related things.
Gene Bauer, author of Farm Sanctuary , detailing his work on the nonprofit place that he started in Watkins Glen, NY (http://www.farmsanctuary.org/), is coming to my campus to speak on Sept. 15. The moment I saw that announcement, I knew I wanted to incorporate his talk and an excerpt from his text into my Advanced Composition class. Our theme this semester is "pressing social and cultural issues," so I figured this would be a good one for us to start with before students go off and pick a topic that interests them. So I bought his book and read it in order to know which excerpts to give my students.
Honestly, I have several friends who are vegetarian or vegan, and am an animal lover and nature hound myself, and I also consider myself fairly well-read on a wide variety of topics. But the systemic abuse of both people and animals and the extraordinary levels of cruelty and malice built into the corporate farming industry makes me sick. Baby chickens being ground up ALIVE in wood chipper-type machinery? Feeding corn, dead chicken parts, and feces to cows messes with their digestive systems (I'm stunned), thus causing a ripe in-body environment for rabid strains of e-coli to grow? Starving male calves and holding them in pens so tiny they can't turn around so their flesh is soft and white (veal)? Boiling chickens alive? These are just some of the real-life horrors revealed in books like Bauer's and movies like Food, Inc. and I definitely think it is high time that we all start educating ourselves on where our food comes from and how these animals are treated or we cannot call ourselves a humane country. Period.
Bauer's book inspired me to do something I've been postponing for months because I knew how horrifying it was before even watching a minute: I watched the documentary Food, Inc. And yes, it is as hideous as you might expect - but also necessary. Books like Bauer's and documentaries like Food, Inc. expose a human-built system that completely disregards other species' rights wholesale. Even the idea that cows, chickens, and pigs feel pain. How can ANYONE think that these creatures don't feel pain? My god, I stopped fishing because I knew I was hurting the fish when I stunned it and then killed it. They squeak. Did you know that? Fish squeak when you kill them. (Aside: I do still eat fish, but only store-bought and only wild-caught, not farm-raised, and only occasionally.)
These texts also unveil many facts that the average consumer wouldn't know such as the reason junk food is so cheap is because those are the crops/products that are the most heavily subsidized because they are actually VERY EXPENSIVE to produce! This, to me, was a revelation. Perhaps it is something I should have known, being as highly educated as I am. But this is just one of the facts that I've since started looking into. Another is this lovely tidbit - according to the data in Food, Inc. 90% of the hamburger meat that is processed in this country goes through an AMMONIA BATH to kill e-coli.
AMMONIA. (Don't believe me? Go ahead. Read up: http://www.foodsafetynews.com/2010/01/nyt-discloses-pink-slime-they-call-hamburger/
I'm done ordering burgers. And no more grocery story meat. Not that I eat a lot of meat in the first place, but that lovely gem has solidified my resolve to purchase meat from local farmers who actually raise the animals, kill them and cut them up without any chemicals. These farmers live with these animals, care for them, and are as intimately involved in the killing process as anyone would wish to be. They do it by hand. Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite (maybe we're all hypocrites) because I'm willing to let someone else kill that animal for me. But that's a dilemma for another day...
The best way to guarantee our meat comes from local farmers is to shop at farmers markets where at least most of the produce, meats, and dairy are local or regional. Also, for a foodie like myself, I relish exquisite food, but haven't eaten veal since I was 23 because there is no reason to eat a baby cow. None. I suppose I will eventually become a vegetarian the way this is all affecting me, but in the meantime, I will try to seek out restaurants and stores that sell locally-produced meat, dairy, and produce. I have found two restaurants and several farmer's markets - that's a good start.
While thinking on these horrifying facts, I picked up a copy of today's Allentown Morning Call, my local paper. And look what the lead story is on the front page of the Sunday paper:
PA egg safety rules a model for coming federal regulations
At first blush, this article is very positive. PA is breaking new ground in voluntarily protecting consumers from salmonella in eggs. We're leading the charge, the feds are following, and my goodness, the FDA may again have the power to inspect places that process the food! Egads, what a concept.
But these chicken houses (in the photos) in Lancaster have 100,000 birds crammed into them on tilted metal grates on top of each other. According to Bauer's firsthand evidence, the grates cause broken feet and bones, the tilt causes the hens to never really be able to settle in so they are always moving, and the moment these hens stop producing at a high rate, they are sent to a slaughterhouse to be ground up into chicken nuggets or cow feed. This is humane? No. Would any one of us want to live this way? No. Then why have we rationalized away our basic sense of decency and humane treatment? We coddle our cats and dogs, feeding them organic specialized diets (or at least that's what my Lucy eats), exercising them, playing with them, buying them toys and fluffy beds...while the animals who are responsible for producing or becoming our steak dinner/chicken fingers/milkshake are treated as inanimate, unfeeling objects incapable of thinking or feeling pain.
Seriously?!
Seriously.
So my resolve was hindered this morning, but no more. I love diners, but I want the diners that I frequent to know that at least one of their customers cares where her eggs and strawberries came from. And the next time I visit that diner, which will probably the next time I hike the nearby nature preserve, I will make it a point to ask. And if they say "we don't know" or "from the store" or name a large manufacturing company - basically, any answer other than "X farm right down the road," I will very politely ask why not the farm down the road? And make a suggestion that they consider doing so.
Other changes I'm now committed to making include buying almost exclusively from farmer's markets and I am fortunate to live in a place with several permanent markets to choose from. And this includes animals for food - I've found an Amish farm that raises bison and chickens. I'm sure there are more if I just start looking. Might I suggest you do the same?
Friday, August 20, 2010
Life off the grid (and back on)
Almost the moment I landed this sweet new professor position, I canceled my cable and internet service because I know what a time suck they both are and I had to dedicate myself in monk-like fashion to completing the most daunting of tasks: my dissertation. Oh, I could still get online by tethering my phone to my laptop, but at dinosaur speeds compared to zippy cable internet. So my time spent online reduced drastically. In addition, I had no Top Chef or Real Housewives of Orange County or Law & Order: SVU marathons to sap away my valuable time. I heartily contend that because of my disconnection from the grid, I had ample time to complete my dissertation, move to PA, graduate, and do a myriad amount of other tasks usually relegated to the "but I don't have time" whine-bank.
Today marks my return to the grid, lightning-fast internet, and digital cable with 180 channels. I still don't have my new TV, mind you, but the cable is hooked up and ready to go once said beautiful new HD flat screen beauty arrives. And this as I embark on a new adventure as a junior faculty member teaching five composition classes my first semester - one introductory comp, three college comp, and one advanced comp. Also, my research agenda for this fall includes writing a book review (which I have taken baby steps toward beginning) and finishing the necessary revisions for a journal that has requested a "revise and resubmit" for one of my articles based on a dissertation chapter. This is the scholar-teacher's life and I am loving it. Sounds like a helluva lot of work, but I'm not worried. Fifteen weeks goes by so fast, as I've come to learn. And I'm also much more capable now of voluntarily moving off the grid in selective spurts when my need to be ultra-productive or ultra-outdoorsy intervenes.
Life off the grid has its uses and can retrain your brain to focus and concentrate more singularly on necessary tasks such as completing work on deadline, or fun tasks such as taking a solo hike or meeting friends for lunch. Focus and concentration of this kind is a dying skill and one that is worth regaining. Being off the grid means having more time to spend with people and most importantly, yourself. When is the last time you sat on your porch or balcony with a glass of wine or cup of coffee, without your phone, without your laptop, without even a book...and just sat and watched the trees or neighborhood, listened to the birds and bugs, while you (gasp) thought. Just thought. About anything that came to mind.
Here's a nifty experiment that I challenge you to try. Disconnect from the grid for 24 hours. Just 24 hours. Keep your phone on (in case of emergencies), but don't call anyone and no texting! Keep your TV off. And don't go online to email, check your favorite news site or blog, or to watch a streaming Netflix movie. (And if you're in school, that's no excuse - do this experiment starting Friday at 6pm and ending Sat. at 6pm...if you do, you might find you don't want to return to the grid until Sun. at 6...it's addicting!)
Disconnect from the grid for 24 hours and spend time with yourself - go walk in the woods Thoreau-style and think about where you are, what your life is like and where you'd like your life to go. Write old-school in a journal; muses about someone you have a crush on or maybe a place you'd love to visit, or how much you miss your mom. Listen to the radio...and not just your favorite tried and true stations - explore the channels and see what's out there. Finish an assignment or project that you've been putting off. Try something new - a restaurant, a new dish at your favorite restaurant, a hobby you've always wanted to try. Spend time with people - call up a friend you haven't physically seen in awhile (before the 24 hrs begins obviously) and plan a car ride to nowhere - just jump in the car with a map and no plan and just drive - turn after turn until you find a cool old antique store to wander around in, or a funky diner in a neighborhood you've never heard of...
My challenge to you my friends is to go off the grid for just 24 little hours. And see what happens. You might like it. ;)
Today marks my return to the grid, lightning-fast internet, and digital cable with 180 channels. I still don't have my new TV, mind you, but the cable is hooked up and ready to go once said beautiful new HD flat screen beauty arrives. And this as I embark on a new adventure as a junior faculty member teaching five composition classes my first semester - one introductory comp, three college comp, and one advanced comp. Also, my research agenda for this fall includes writing a book review (which I have taken baby steps toward beginning) and finishing the necessary revisions for a journal that has requested a "revise and resubmit" for one of my articles based on a dissertation chapter. This is the scholar-teacher's life and I am loving it. Sounds like a helluva lot of work, but I'm not worried. Fifteen weeks goes by so fast, as I've come to learn. And I'm also much more capable now of voluntarily moving off the grid in selective spurts when my need to be ultra-productive or ultra-outdoorsy intervenes.
Life off the grid has its uses and can retrain your brain to focus and concentrate more singularly on necessary tasks such as completing work on deadline, or fun tasks such as taking a solo hike or meeting friends for lunch. Focus and concentration of this kind is a dying skill and one that is worth regaining. Being off the grid means having more time to spend with people and most importantly, yourself. When is the last time you sat on your porch or balcony with a glass of wine or cup of coffee, without your phone, without your laptop, without even a book...and just sat and watched the trees or neighborhood, listened to the birds and bugs, while you (gasp) thought. Just thought. About anything that came to mind.
Here's a nifty experiment that I challenge you to try. Disconnect from the grid for 24 hours. Just 24 hours. Keep your phone on (in case of emergencies), but don't call anyone and no texting! Keep your TV off. And don't go online to email, check your favorite news site or blog, or to watch a streaming Netflix movie. (And if you're in school, that's no excuse - do this experiment starting Friday at 6pm and ending Sat. at 6pm...if you do, you might find you don't want to return to the grid until Sun. at 6...it's addicting!)
Disconnect from the grid for 24 hours and spend time with yourself - go walk in the woods Thoreau-style and think about where you are, what your life is like and where you'd like your life to go. Write old-school in a journal; muses about someone you have a crush on or maybe a place you'd love to visit, or how much you miss your mom. Listen to the radio...and not just your favorite tried and true stations - explore the channels and see what's out there. Finish an assignment or project that you've been putting off. Try something new - a restaurant, a new dish at your favorite restaurant, a hobby you've always wanted to try. Spend time with people - call up a friend you haven't physically seen in awhile (before the 24 hrs begins obviously) and plan a car ride to nowhere - just jump in the car with a map and no plan and just drive - turn after turn until you find a cool old antique store to wander around in, or a funky diner in a neighborhood you've never heard of...
My challenge to you my friends is to go off the grid for just 24 little hours. And see what happens. You might like it. ;)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
No magic bullets
SO much has happened in the past few months that it has kept me more than busy, which is why I've not posted anything. But all of my activities have been amazingly good: I landed a tenure-track assistant professor position at a teaching university in my home state, which was my objective from the start of this six-years-long process of getting a PhD. And despite the fact that I have signed my university contract, obtained a lease for a beautiful apartment, and started buying new furniture while finishing my dissertation and preparing to graduate and move in August, I'm still adjusting to this new reality. From PhD candidate to professor in one quick sweep of a signature. . . and yet. . . and yet. . .
The path to getting here has not been easy and I hate to say this (because it goes against a lot of current opining and writing on the subject on the futility of landing a tenure-track academic job), but luck had very little to do with it. There are no magic bullets for getting to this point. From where I sit right now, reviewing and evaluating the time, sacrifices, hard work, dedication, and compromises required to put me in a position to land such a perfect job, it seems to me that having a strong work ethic, a focused goal, the right attitude, an interesting and trending research topic, and a willingness to put this goal above everything else (including marriage, friendship, health, and fun) is the way to succeed in a difficult and contracting job market.
My closest friends know what I did and how I did it - they have been my lifeline to sanity and survival in the past four years, which have truly been the hardest for me both intellectually and emotionally. But perseverance really does seem to be the only way to survive and even have the chance to thrive in this or any economy - have good ideas, present them well, be fearless, and work hard - no. . .harder than hard. . .commit yourself to the path in ways that makes others sit back and wonder how you could possibly sustain that level of work day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. Sustainable perseverance. The energy, enthusiasm, effort, and time required to pull this off is immense and cuts across everything else in your life.
I also think good timing and the right fit have a lot to do with success as well. And how does one figure that out? I don't know. Good instincts, maybe? Just being aware of the marketplace, reading the job ads carefully, presenting yourself in the most targeted and honest way possible, and being willing to take as much of a chance on your potential new university home as they may be willing to take on you. Also understanding that if you do land such a position, you are the newbie on the block and must sit back and watch, listen, and learn and not approach your new colleagues with the attitude that you know more than they do. It's time to leave the ego at home.
I've been reading a lot about how to act during your first year as a junior faculty member and it occurs to me that this is just like every other field I've ever entered. . .despite years of experience and an advanced degree, I am once again starting on the bottom. Granted, that bottom has an already-elevated position in society, but this is a new job in a new environment that I must learn from the ground up.
This is a privileged position and I am so very thankful for the opportunity, but I do not wholly agree with some of the columnists and writers in the Chronicle of Higher Education (for instance), who insist that landing a tenure track academic job is like winning the lottery. If that randomness was true, then I wouldn't have this job that I pursued with single-minded precision. When I sat down in the MLA interview, the hiring committee asked me why I had applied for this position (a very reasonable and expected question) and I said (whether this was appropriate or not, it was the truth) because this is the perfect position for me - and then I went on to explain why. Ballsy? Yes. But it was honest - I made a commitment to myself years ago that when I went on the job market, I would always present the real me - not some put-on veneer of what I thought a hiring committee would want. That just isn't sustainable and it isn't real.
Let people see the real you - the professional you, but the real you - in any job interview situation. Takes a lot of pressure off in an already high-pressure climate. That way, if they do ultimately offer YOU the job, you know in your heart and mind that it really is YOU who they want.
This journey has changed me, hopefully for the better, so that I can be a more effective teacher, a better friend, a calmer colleague, and a better advocate for the issues that I believe are important. I wish my PhD candidate colleagues the best in their pursuit of tenure track positions and encourage them to persevere and not give up!
The path to getting here has not been easy and I hate to say this (because it goes against a lot of current opining and writing on the subject on the futility of landing a tenure-track academic job), but luck had very little to do with it. There are no magic bullets for getting to this point. From where I sit right now, reviewing and evaluating the time, sacrifices, hard work, dedication, and compromises required to put me in a position to land such a perfect job, it seems to me that having a strong work ethic, a focused goal, the right attitude, an interesting and trending research topic, and a willingness to put this goal above everything else (including marriage, friendship, health, and fun) is the way to succeed in a difficult and contracting job market.
My closest friends know what I did and how I did it - they have been my lifeline to sanity and survival in the past four years, which have truly been the hardest for me both intellectually and emotionally. But perseverance really does seem to be the only way to survive and even have the chance to thrive in this or any economy - have good ideas, present them well, be fearless, and work hard - no. . .harder than hard. . .commit yourself to the path in ways that makes others sit back and wonder how you could possibly sustain that level of work day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. Sustainable perseverance. The energy, enthusiasm, effort, and time required to pull this off is immense and cuts across everything else in your life.
I also think good timing and the right fit have a lot to do with success as well. And how does one figure that out? I don't know. Good instincts, maybe? Just being aware of the marketplace, reading the job ads carefully, presenting yourself in the most targeted and honest way possible, and being willing to take as much of a chance on your potential new university home as they may be willing to take on you. Also understanding that if you do land such a position, you are the newbie on the block and must sit back and watch, listen, and learn and not approach your new colleagues with the attitude that you know more than they do. It's time to leave the ego at home.
I've been reading a lot about how to act during your first year as a junior faculty member and it occurs to me that this is just like every other field I've ever entered. . .despite years of experience and an advanced degree, I am once again starting on the bottom. Granted, that bottom has an already-elevated position in society, but this is a new job in a new environment that I must learn from the ground up.
This is a privileged position and I am so very thankful for the opportunity, but I do not wholly agree with some of the columnists and writers in the Chronicle of Higher Education (for instance), who insist that landing a tenure track academic job is like winning the lottery. If that randomness was true, then I wouldn't have this job that I pursued with single-minded precision. When I sat down in the MLA interview, the hiring committee asked me why I had applied for this position (a very reasonable and expected question) and I said (whether this was appropriate or not, it was the truth) because this is the perfect position for me - and then I went on to explain why. Ballsy? Yes. But it was honest - I made a commitment to myself years ago that when I went on the job market, I would always present the real me - not some put-on veneer of what I thought a hiring committee would want. That just isn't sustainable and it isn't real.
Let people see the real you - the professional you, but the real you - in any job interview situation. Takes a lot of pressure off in an already high-pressure climate. That way, if they do ultimately offer YOU the job, you know in your heart and mind that it really is YOU who they want.
This journey has changed me, hopefully for the better, so that I can be a more effective teacher, a better friend, a calmer colleague, and a better advocate for the issues that I believe are important. I wish my PhD candidate colleagues the best in their pursuit of tenure track positions and encourage them to persevere and not give up!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Why is tenure necessary?
In the wake of Amy Bishop's calm killing of her colleagues, lots of academic types are seriously questioning what has been an under-the-radar discussion for a long time: why is tenure necessary in our modern age? And why is the process seemingly so potentially unfair, unjust, and hazardous...not to mention time-consuming and stressful?
Story in Chronicle of Higher Education on the Bishop shootings: http://chronicle.com/article/The-Fatal-Meeting-Death/64295/
As a former journalist and creature of the business world and current PhD candidate trying to get a job, I wonder who tenure benefits? The scholar who survives the five-year obstacle course riddled with political maneuvering who then gains the right never to be fired unless something truly unlawful or grievous occurs? The students who, while the tenure process is underway, suffer a distracted, disinterested, and sometimes downright hostile professor who then may become relieved and equally uninvested in students' progress once he or she gains tenure? The university that demands all sorts of arbitrary proof that the scholar is actually a scholar (scholarly publications only, please) AND a teacher (your students best love you!), AND a good service member of the university community (can't say no to that "request" for Honesty Committee service!) and then judges the professor on how high he or she has jumped through these hoops in order to "approve" tenure?
I just don't get it. I didn't get it before I entered the system of higher education and I sure don't get it now. In fact, even though I am sitting on the cusp (or the abyss, if you will), wondering if I will even GET a job as a professor, I don't support the idea of tenure, regardless of how transparent the process may be at certain schools. Why shouldn't we, as teachers and scholars, be culpable and responsible to our students first, then our scholarship, then our service to the university community and the broader community - at all times?! Not just for the five years the tenure gauntlet takes? Why not require professors to continue being good teachers while encouraging creative and productive scholarship and service? What is so scary about eliminating tenure? Productive and worthy teachers and scholars will still be employed, will they not?
What is so wrong with transitioning higher education to a merit-based system where individuals must show consistency and regular growth (like anyone in any job that is NOT higher education), instead of going 150mph for five years and then slamming on the brakes? Which approach seems healthier for the professor and more beneficial to the students? Or do we in the academy even really CARE about maintaining a healthy and happy professoriate and a smart and encouraged student body?
Story in Chronicle of Higher Education on the Bishop shootings: http://chronicle.com/article/The-Fatal-Meeting-Death/64295/
As a former journalist and creature of the business world and current PhD candidate trying to get a job, I wonder who tenure benefits? The scholar who survives the five-year obstacle course riddled with political maneuvering who then gains the right never to be fired unless something truly unlawful or grievous occurs? The students who, while the tenure process is underway, suffer a distracted, disinterested, and sometimes downright hostile professor who then may become relieved and equally uninvested in students' progress once he or she gains tenure? The university that demands all sorts of arbitrary proof that the scholar is actually a scholar (scholarly publications only, please) AND a teacher (your students best love you!), AND a good service member of the university community (can't say no to that "request" for Honesty Committee service!) and then judges the professor on how high he or she has jumped through these hoops in order to "approve" tenure?
I just don't get it. I didn't get it before I entered the system of higher education and I sure don't get it now. In fact, even though I am sitting on the cusp (or the abyss, if you will), wondering if I will even GET a job as a professor, I don't support the idea of tenure, regardless of how transparent the process may be at certain schools. Why shouldn't we, as teachers and scholars, be culpable and responsible to our students first, then our scholarship, then our service to the university community and the broader community - at all times?! Not just for the five years the tenure gauntlet takes? Why not require professors to continue being good teachers while encouraging creative and productive scholarship and service? What is so scary about eliminating tenure? Productive and worthy teachers and scholars will still be employed, will they not?
What is so wrong with transitioning higher education to a merit-based system where individuals must show consistency and regular growth (like anyone in any job that is NOT higher education), instead of going 150mph for five years and then slamming on the brakes? Which approach seems healthier for the professor and more beneficial to the students? Or do we in the academy even really CARE about maintaining a healthy and happy professoriate and a smart and encouraged student body?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Nearing the End...Maybe?
Wow. Last post was 2008? That makes me both sad and maniacally hysterical all at once. That should actually tell you something about what getting a PhD is like. ;)
Nonetheless. I am nearing the end and will either graduate this summer or next, depending on which opportunity I've worked for materializes. And if none of the opportunities I've set myself up for work out, then I will definitely be here another year (sob). But, in keeping with my generally sunny outlook, I will say that if I AM here for another year, I will have time to develop my dissertation into book form AND work more on my photography. Things could be much worse, so I won't complain.
"Won't complain." Sounds noble, doesn't it? Yeah. But I can honestly say that if the job I applied for doesn't call back, or the Fulbright I applied for falls through, thus stranding me here another year...I am going to feel discouraged, deflated, and like I just wasted the last four years of my life.
Not saying I won't bounce back. I was just telling a friend tonight that life has taught me to expect the worst and to take it in stride, which may sound depressing, but is a good survival skill. It's the waiting that's killing me. Not knowing is the worst.
So I stay busy and wait for other people to make decisions about the course my life will take this year. Sigh.
Nonetheless. I am nearing the end and will either graduate this summer or next, depending on which opportunity I've worked for materializes. And if none of the opportunities I've set myself up for work out, then I will definitely be here another year (sob). But, in keeping with my generally sunny outlook, I will say that if I AM here for another year, I will have time to develop my dissertation into book form AND work more on my photography. Things could be much worse, so I won't complain.
"Won't complain." Sounds noble, doesn't it? Yeah. But I can honestly say that if the job I applied for doesn't call back, or the Fulbright I applied for falls through, thus stranding me here another year...I am going to feel discouraged, deflated, and like I just wasted the last four years of my life.
Not saying I won't bounce back. I was just telling a friend tonight that life has taught me to expect the worst and to take it in stride, which may sound depressing, but is a good survival skill. It's the waiting that's killing me. Not knowing is the worst.
So I stay busy and wait for other people to make decisions about the course my life will take this year. Sigh.
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