I have a hazy idea of what I want to say here--there's something which is irking me, but I can't quite articulate it. And I feel like I've sort of been part of the problem myself. So bear with me.
As the professionalization chair of the English grad student organization this year, I'm trying to organize some professionalization workshops for grad students this semester. Publishing is one of our students' biggest concerns, and I'm going to ask a faculty member if he would do a repeat of a well-received workshop he did a few years ago, about what makes a journal article appear "grad student-y." I'm not sure exactly what he covers in it, but I heard good things about it.
I've also asked the DGS to do a workshop on professional communication and networking. There are two big things I'd like her to cover. One, I'd like her to talk about things like, how to strike up a conversation at a conference/other networky place with a total stranger. Or how to talk to a scholar you admire without sounding like a total fangirl.* The other thing is more basic things, like that many faculty members take offense if you call them by their first name, or many of the other habits--especially in email--that I've heard faculty members complain about.
However, something's been irking me about a thread that's running through these requests, and I realize that it has something to do with the idea that we need to learn to not sound like graduate students. It occurs to me that when most academics use the phrase "like a graduate student," they generally don't mean it as a compliment.** And perhaps that doesn't bug most people, but there's something that smacks of other observations like, "You throw like a girl!" When I first heard that one, my first response was, well, yeah, I am a girl. Oh, you mean that as an insult?
And I suppose what I'm feeling right now is something like, well, yeah, I am a graduate student. And I'm kind of getting tired of that label being used as a negative. When I was trying to articulate this to my husband, he observed that that's kind of the problem with a hierarchical system such as academia, that those lower down on the learning curve do make mistakes and bumble things which those more experienced generally make less often. And to be frank, I am aware enough of my own place on the learning curve/food chain, and my own ignorance of the often complicated, not-quite-visible politics going on--as well as the countless examples I've seen of other graduate students stumbling in their attempts to seem professional or assertive--that I understand why the term so often used as an adjective to mean unprofessional or ignorant of the big picture.
So, should I just suck it up and stop taking things so personally? Or is there a conversation to be had about the derogatory and pejorative uses of the phrase "grad student"?
*Seriously, I worry sometimes about turning into Chris Farley: "You that time when you wrote Dirt and Desire? You know, and you asked, like, what would happen if we replaced William Faulkner with Eudora Welty at the center of the southern canon? That was awesome!"
**At a conference recently, I was stopped by a total stranger who congratulated me on giving a good conference paper presentation, and when they discovered I was a grad student, continued their compliments with, "Wow, you don't present like a grad student at all!"
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
Monday, January 21, 2013
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Grad school's not baseball--there's plenty of crying
Several times over the past few days, I have owned up to just how much crying I've done while in grad school about grad school. It's strange, isn't it, how much crying we do here? Or is it more that there's plenty of crying in "real life," but graduate school can be so all-consuming that most things that I would cry about end up somehow related to school now.
I think part of it--a part that I'd like to figure out a way around--is the sense of pressure, the sense of a clock ticking and you have to be teaching and grading and doing coursework/studying for exams/writing the diss while still keeping current on scholarship/writing conference papers/publishing articles/working on the job docs/networking. With the clock ticking. And people not in graduate school thinking that you just spend your days writing on blackboards and reading in your pajamas.
I guess the thing is, I've cried because of the stress and strain of other jobs. I'm trying to figure out why grad school seems different. Perhaps it's partly because in other jobs, people bitch about all of the parts of their lives; in graduate school, we bitch about graduate school. Teaching, teaching assignments, conspiracy theories about teaching assignments, job docs, student emails, conspiracy theories about the job market, what a prospectus is supposed to be, conspiracy theories about committees...While on the one hand, I've thought that the answer to a lot of this stress is more of a sense of academic community and department engagement, I'm wondering if there's a risk of too much conspiratorial energy accumulating with too much community, or if the lack of community leads to such thinking.
What I'd like to do is to feel okay with the clock ticking, realize that it's going to tick whether I'm in grad school or not, whether I go to jazzercise or read a journal article. Whether I do another revision or not. And at any moment, I can go and get a job as a secretary, an adjunct teacher, even a women's center director. And readers' reviews are that way because it's the convention, not because I'm actually stupid.
So, what's a healthy attitude toward graduate school? Or is there one? Is it simply an unhealthy situation?
I think part of it--a part that I'd like to figure out a way around--is the sense of pressure, the sense of a clock ticking and you have to be teaching and grading and doing coursework/studying for exams/writing the diss while still keeping current on scholarship/writing conference papers/publishing articles/working on the job docs/networking. With the clock ticking. And people not in graduate school thinking that you just spend your days writing on blackboards and reading in your pajamas.
I guess the thing is, I've cried because of the stress and strain of other jobs. I'm trying to figure out why grad school seems different. Perhaps it's partly because in other jobs, people bitch about all of the parts of their lives; in graduate school, we bitch about graduate school. Teaching, teaching assignments, conspiracy theories about teaching assignments, job docs, student emails, conspiracy theories about the job market, what a prospectus is supposed to be, conspiracy theories about committees...While on the one hand, I've thought that the answer to a lot of this stress is more of a sense of academic community and department engagement, I'm wondering if there's a risk of too much conspiratorial energy accumulating with too much community, or if the lack of community leads to such thinking.
What I'd like to do is to feel okay with the clock ticking, realize that it's going to tick whether I'm in grad school or not, whether I go to jazzercise or read a journal article. Whether I do another revision or not. And at any moment, I can go and get a job as a secretary, an adjunct teacher, even a women's center director. And readers' reviews are that way because it's the convention, not because I'm actually stupid.
So, what's a healthy attitude toward graduate school? Or is there one? Is it simply an unhealthy situation?
Friday, May 11, 2012
More end of semester thoughts
I finished grading papers at 1am this morning, and posted grades to Moodle and submitted final grades. By 2:30am, I had my first email which begged, "But I tried really hard!" The past two or three days I've had a number of frantic emails from students--one even used the word frantic--wanting to know when grades would be posted, can they revise, is there any extra credit they can do....Several of them began by explaining that they had just looked at their grade on Moodle and realized that they didn't have an A, which prompted the frantic emails. And since posting grades this morning, the emails have continued.
It's weird--I used to get these emails, before I started using an online gradebook. Once I started keeping grades online, these emails for the most part went away, as students are able to check on their average at any given moment. I even had one student write his position paper this semester arguing that all teachers should be required to use the Moodle gradebook, as it greatly alleviates student anxiety. So, this rash of frantic emails is rather unusual.
I admit to feeling quite frustrated and annoyed by these emails, as most of them are using emotional language and all seem to be throwing themselves on my mercy. They beg for extra credit and even offer to write a new paper. My annoyance stems from the fact that it's not as though these students' grades suddenly took a nosedive, or that there were lots of failing grades. In fact, one of the most desperate sounding emails is from a student who got a B. I checked final grades against midterm grades, and individual final paper grades against earlier paper grades. Generally, there's a slight progression from midterm to final, and most individuals show improvement from earlier papers to later (which is why the final paper is weighted heavier than the first paper--I genuinely work to structure the class so that improvement is rewarded). I had some really great student papers--one paper, in which a student explained Jindal's position on school vouchers, and then explained how his explanation is oversimplifying a complicated issue, got me to clap at my computer while I was reading it.
Today, however, between my frantic student emails which all seem to be hurling themselves at my mercy (as I noted on facebook, my mercy is tired of having things thrown at it today) and the conversations I've had the last two days about teaching--specifically, my program's stated expectations of its teachers, what kind of teaching seems to be rewarded by my program, the program's unclear expectations of us as graduate students, and what our students seem to expect from us--I'm throwing my hands up today. The person who won the teaching award did so because he received straight 5s on his teaching evaluations--which seems suspect to me. "5" doesn't mean anything to me. When I hand out evals, I give the school's scantron forms, but I also hand out my own, short answer forms (based on those used by my former program), which actually give me useful information. Further, there is very little classroom observation that goes on--both times that I've been observed here, I've had to ask to be evaluated. I don't think that very much is known about what goes on inside the classroom here.
Because of this (I conclude), my colleagues and I are getting students who have been here for two and three and four years who claim to have never done academic research in a classroom. There are graduate students in my graduate classes who claim to have never written a paper longer than ten pages, and don't know how to write something 20 pages long.
I feel like I keep encountering issues which seem like they're connected, and seem like they are systemic in some way. I would like to be able to do something about it, but I also want to maintain my sanity and use my finite amounts of energy and time in ways which reflect my priorities. My purpose in writing this is to vent, with the intention of blowing off steam to maintain my sanity. Next year, I will have some leadership opportunities in my department to at least offer support for graduate students who feel as though they're floundering when writing, and I intend to once again re-formulate a first year composition class. Now that grades are submitted, I think the next thing for me to do is rest and recuperate. I tend to have less patience when I'm fatigued, which is definitely contributing to today's frustration and annoyance.
It's weird--I used to get these emails, before I started using an online gradebook. Once I started keeping grades online, these emails for the most part went away, as students are able to check on their average at any given moment. I even had one student write his position paper this semester arguing that all teachers should be required to use the Moodle gradebook, as it greatly alleviates student anxiety. So, this rash of frantic emails is rather unusual.
I admit to feeling quite frustrated and annoyed by these emails, as most of them are using emotional language and all seem to be throwing themselves on my mercy. They beg for extra credit and even offer to write a new paper. My annoyance stems from the fact that it's not as though these students' grades suddenly took a nosedive, or that there were lots of failing grades. In fact, one of the most desperate sounding emails is from a student who got a B. I checked final grades against midterm grades, and individual final paper grades against earlier paper grades. Generally, there's a slight progression from midterm to final, and most individuals show improvement from earlier papers to later (which is why the final paper is weighted heavier than the first paper--I genuinely work to structure the class so that improvement is rewarded). I had some really great student papers--one paper, in which a student explained Jindal's position on school vouchers, and then explained how his explanation is oversimplifying a complicated issue, got me to clap at my computer while I was reading it.
Today, however, between my frantic student emails which all seem to be hurling themselves at my mercy (as I noted on facebook, my mercy is tired of having things thrown at it today) and the conversations I've had the last two days about teaching--specifically, my program's stated expectations of its teachers, what kind of teaching seems to be rewarded by my program, the program's unclear expectations of us as graduate students, and what our students seem to expect from us--I'm throwing my hands up today. The person who won the teaching award did so because he received straight 5s on his teaching evaluations--which seems suspect to me. "5" doesn't mean anything to me. When I hand out evals, I give the school's scantron forms, but I also hand out my own, short answer forms (based on those used by my former program), which actually give me useful information. Further, there is very little classroom observation that goes on--both times that I've been observed here, I've had to ask to be evaluated. I don't think that very much is known about what goes on inside the classroom here.
Because of this (I conclude), my colleagues and I are getting students who have been here for two and three and four years who claim to have never done academic research in a classroom. There are graduate students in my graduate classes who claim to have never written a paper longer than ten pages, and don't know how to write something 20 pages long.
I feel like I keep encountering issues which seem like they're connected, and seem like they are systemic in some way. I would like to be able to do something about it, but I also want to maintain my sanity and use my finite amounts of energy and time in ways which reflect my priorities. My purpose in writing this is to vent, with the intention of blowing off steam to maintain my sanity. Next year, I will have some leadership opportunities in my department to at least offer support for graduate students who feel as though they're floundering when writing, and I intend to once again re-formulate a first year composition class. Now that grades are submitted, I think the next thing for me to do is rest and recuperate. I tend to have less patience when I'm fatigued, which is definitely contributing to today's frustration and annoyance.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Where I'm At
Yesterday certainly was an exercise in perspective. The two areas of the country where I have the biggest concentration of friends is the Ohio/Indiana/Kentucky tri-state area and Tennessee, both of which were hit with storms. Everyone seems okay, though a friend's relative in Indiana lost her house, and when they last checked in yesterday afternoon were unable to leave its remains (I guess they were in the basement) because the downed power lines were too dangerous.
Add to that a friend who was in the hospital last night after a mild heart attack, and a colleague at school who underwent surgery for a faulty artificial heart valve yesterday (her third open heart surgery). Perspective, perspective, perspective.
I'm actually picking up a section of English 2000 taught by my colleague who had surgery yesterday. I don't know her--I believe she's an instructor--though I think I've chatted with her before a talk before. It's the same class I'm teaching, though her syllabus looks much, much different from mine. There's another teacher who's picking up another section of the class, and she's given me access to her Moodle page, so I can see how she's going to proceed with the class.
It will be interesting to see how this goes. Midterms are due week after next, so I'm picking up this class almost smack dab in the middle of the semester. Though I've complained about the lack of community in my department, it's opportunities such as this which kind of make me put my money where my mouth is--am I willing to pitch in when its needed?
This coming week, there's a meeting scheduled with the intention of "envisioning graduate studies" in my department, which was put together after some heightened awareness of student unhappiness. I'm open about the fact that I was ready to leave my first semester here--only the promise of the course offerings the next semester (sexology, southern lit, and Faulkner) and one class I was taking whose professor was completely engaged and exciting--kept me from reapplying to other schools over Thanksgiving that year. And it wasn't a shock about the difficulty of grad school--at UT, I spent the first month going--shit! Who the hell is Wittgenstein and why has he been mentioned in every class so far? Rather, it's a lack of structured support for incoming students, especially those coming in with an MA. For students with a BA and MFA students, they have structures built in--they have a week of orientation to prepare for TAing a section of a large class, which gives them a built in cohort with which to learn. For incoming MAs, there was nothing--not a welcome from a faculty member, not a here's what you can expect, not even here's where the refrigerator is. There was an EGSA meeting for an hour, with a welcome and things, and a welcome to Baton Rouge booklet with useful information about neighborhoods and for using PAWS and things. And everyone attends the big English department meeting the Friday before school starts.
Still, at UT, there was a week of orientation for everyone, which was overwhelming, but incredibly informative. Several professors participated, and by the end of the week I felt like a part of my cohort and had a sense of who to talk to about what. Here, there's supposed to be a mentoring system in place, but it's a crap shoot whether the mentor a new student is assigned to will actually respond. (You'd better believe I have--my mentee is a priority to me.) Many of us have gravitated to other departments, like WGS and Mass Comm, because (perhaps because they're smaller) they provide the kind of support and community that's lacking in English.
And with March here, it's now less than a month away that the WGS graduate student organization is hosting a screening of the documentary Miss Representation. We had a very productive meeting with the director of the Women's Center this week, who's offered quite a bit of support for the event. So, fingers crossed!
Add to that a friend who was in the hospital last night after a mild heart attack, and a colleague at school who underwent surgery for a faulty artificial heart valve yesterday (her third open heart surgery). Perspective, perspective, perspective.
I'm actually picking up a section of English 2000 taught by my colleague who had surgery yesterday. I don't know her--I believe she's an instructor--though I think I've chatted with her before a talk before. It's the same class I'm teaching, though her syllabus looks much, much different from mine. There's another teacher who's picking up another section of the class, and she's given me access to her Moodle page, so I can see how she's going to proceed with the class.
It will be interesting to see how this goes. Midterms are due week after next, so I'm picking up this class almost smack dab in the middle of the semester. Though I've complained about the lack of community in my department, it's opportunities such as this which kind of make me put my money where my mouth is--am I willing to pitch in when its needed?
This coming week, there's a meeting scheduled with the intention of "envisioning graduate studies" in my department, which was put together after some heightened awareness of student unhappiness. I'm open about the fact that I was ready to leave my first semester here--only the promise of the course offerings the next semester (sexology, southern lit, and Faulkner) and one class I was taking whose professor was completely engaged and exciting--kept me from reapplying to other schools over Thanksgiving that year. And it wasn't a shock about the difficulty of grad school--at UT, I spent the first month going--shit! Who the hell is Wittgenstein and why has he been mentioned in every class so far? Rather, it's a lack of structured support for incoming students, especially those coming in with an MA. For students with a BA and MFA students, they have structures built in--they have a week of orientation to prepare for TAing a section of a large class, which gives them a built in cohort with which to learn. For incoming MAs, there was nothing--not a welcome from a faculty member, not a here's what you can expect, not even here's where the refrigerator is. There was an EGSA meeting for an hour, with a welcome and things, and a welcome to Baton Rouge booklet with useful information about neighborhoods and for using PAWS and things. And everyone attends the big English department meeting the Friday before school starts.
Still, at UT, there was a week of orientation for everyone, which was overwhelming, but incredibly informative. Several professors participated, and by the end of the week I felt like a part of my cohort and had a sense of who to talk to about what. Here, there's supposed to be a mentoring system in place, but it's a crap shoot whether the mentor a new student is assigned to will actually respond. (You'd better believe I have--my mentee is a priority to me.) Many of us have gravitated to other departments, like WGS and Mass Comm, because (perhaps because they're smaller) they provide the kind of support and community that's lacking in English.
And with March here, it's now less than a month away that the WGS graduate student organization is hosting a screening of the documentary Miss Representation. We had a very productive meeting with the director of the Women's Center this week, who's offered quite a bit of support for the event. So, fingers crossed!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Teaching and Tech
This Chronicle article has me thinking more about effective teaching, especially as I continue to struggle with my current class. Its primary claim is that technology works best in the classroom when it fosters stronger connections between teacher and student. This has been the idea that I've been circling around in the past week, that key to a productive classroom is one in which there is a strong connection between teacher and students. In my current classroom, because the students came in with such strong connections already among themselves, it's been difficult to get their attention focused elsewhere.
I've spent the past week meeting with students about their first papers--part of my intention in doing so has been to try to forge stronger connections individually with students, in an effort to improve the classroom. I want them to engage with the class material during class time, rather than be chatting and passing notes about their social lives. Friday, they workshopped their rough drafts in class, and I had them pair up with a random partner, in order to cut down on extraneous "underlife."
I noticed an interesting change Monday. In general, the students were a bit more focused and participated in class discussion more (partly after realizing that they wouldn't get 10s for participation just for showing up). However, my overachiever student had the student newspaper out and read for part of class instead of participating. I wonder if he's protesting my not letting him write the treatise on the effect of commercialism on marriages he wanted to write, instead of the assigned rhetorical analysis of a print ad? Or perhaps I'm reading too much into it.
Either way, I realize that for the first time I'm missing that sense of "wonder" in the material. This is definitely a sign I need to shake something up. I really wish that the department would go ahead and announce fall teaching assignments; knowing what I'm working toward in the fall might be helpful in facing the rest of the semester, too. I think I'm more generally missing a sense of "wonder" right now--even though my reading for class/comps is right down my alley right now, I don't want to read. The part of my brain that translates words into meaning is tired. It's not too terribly bad--when I feel this terribly, I get up and work out, or do something crafty (I haven't been too musical lately--that might help). Still, when I come back to the book, it's still feeling like work.
As I write this, I realize that (with a few exceptions), I have been enjoying the writing side of things more lately. I'm quite happy with the pedagogy conference paper I'm giving this week (ironically, I suppose--though it's about group projects, which I really enjoyed last semester), and once I get through this new round of revisions for the <expletive omitted> Transatlantic paper I received two days ago, I'm looking forward to the writing projects I have going which I actually am excited about. Hmmm. Perhaps I should keep my focus on writing--I've got a really good writing partner right now, and our commitment to meet once a week has kept me working diligently on writing.
And here's why writing is important--it allows me realizations such as this.
I've spent the past week meeting with students about their first papers--part of my intention in doing so has been to try to forge stronger connections individually with students, in an effort to improve the classroom. I want them to engage with the class material during class time, rather than be chatting and passing notes about their social lives. Friday, they workshopped their rough drafts in class, and I had them pair up with a random partner, in order to cut down on extraneous "underlife."
I noticed an interesting change Monday. In general, the students were a bit more focused and participated in class discussion more (partly after realizing that they wouldn't get 10s for participation just for showing up). However, my overachiever student had the student newspaper out and read for part of class instead of participating. I wonder if he's protesting my not letting him write the treatise on the effect of commercialism on marriages he wanted to write, instead of the assigned rhetorical analysis of a print ad? Or perhaps I'm reading too much into it.
Either way, I realize that for the first time I'm missing that sense of "wonder" in the material. This is definitely a sign I need to shake something up. I really wish that the department would go ahead and announce fall teaching assignments; knowing what I'm working toward in the fall might be helpful in facing the rest of the semester, too. I think I'm more generally missing a sense of "wonder" right now--even though my reading for class/comps is right down my alley right now, I don't want to read. The part of my brain that translates words into meaning is tired. It's not too terribly bad--when I feel this terribly, I get up and work out, or do something crafty (I haven't been too musical lately--that might help). Still, when I come back to the book, it's still feeling like work.
As I write this, I realize that (with a few exceptions), I have been enjoying the writing side of things more lately. I'm quite happy with the pedagogy conference paper I'm giving this week (ironically, I suppose--though it's about group projects, which I really enjoyed last semester), and once I get through this new round of revisions for the <expletive omitted> Transatlantic paper I received two days ago, I'm looking forward to the writing projects I have going which I actually am excited about. Hmmm. Perhaps I should keep my focus on writing--I've got a really good writing partner right now, and our commitment to meet once a week has kept me working diligently on writing.
And here's why writing is important--it allows me realizations such as this.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The boredom continues
I just finished reading through this first set of rough drafts from my second year composition class. They were okay. It's the first paper, and it's a rhetorical analysis of a print advertisement. As usual, there was quite a bit of writing about the advertisement industry instead of focused analysis on the ad itself, and the typical organization and clarity issues. But nothing too unusual.
Still, I feel bored. The next time I teach this class, I'm going to need to come up with a different analytical paper to start with. I'm feeling completely unmotivated to go look at the assignments for the week and try to come up with some lesson plans. Blah.
In other news, last night I was pleased to receive an email that I should be receiving proofs of my article fixing to be published--and then today, they emailed back and said that I need to put it into Chicago, not MLA style, stat. So, tonight I'll be watching Downton Abbey and fixing footnotes. It's not a big thing, but it is tedious. And adding to my peevish mood.
I've got a novel to finish this week, too--Black Thunder: Gabriel's Revolt, Virginia 1800--along with a couple of chapters of Cotton's Queer Relations, and I've got to fit in a viewing of Mandigo, as well. Next week, we read Absalom, Absalom--one of my all time favorite novels. I need to go talk to the professor of this class again, though I just stopped by office hours this past week. I had a mentoring lunch with a WGS professor this week (which is such a wonderful idea, and I'm so grateful that we're doing this this semester), and in response to my question about whether it's a problem that my committee is currently made up of three men, the professor strongly urged me to consider asking my Queer South professor to be on my committee. True, this professor is a major reason why I came here, but she's been gone for the past year and a half, and I haven't had a chance to work with her at all.
At the WGS retreat yesterday, my WGS mentor said that she'd thought about it more and thinks its even more important that I get her on my committee, as her work really lines up with my own. Sigh. I need to find a way to approach this that doesn't feel like asking people to the prom, which is what it feels like right now. I know that every single person I've asked for advice about how to get through a phd program without regrets or bitterness has emphasized the importance of having the right committee, which may be adding to the stress I feel about this.
I think I get Tuesday off this week, which I haven't had in a couple of weeks. I'm supposed to go to dance class Monday night, but I'm feeling quite reluctant about that, too. I missed this past week (I went to sleep instead), and I believe we're at the point where we're expected to dance with partners. I don't want to dance with a partner. It's not like West Coast Swing, which I feel more comfortable with--I think this Chicago Swing is much more of an intimate dance experience.
Oh, peevishness. I shall relocate myself upstairs now, and settle in for the two-hour Downton Abbey. I expect that it will lighten my mood somewhat.
Still, I feel bored. The next time I teach this class, I'm going to need to come up with a different analytical paper to start with. I'm feeling completely unmotivated to go look at the assignments for the week and try to come up with some lesson plans. Blah.
In other news, last night I was pleased to receive an email that I should be receiving proofs of my article fixing to be published--and then today, they emailed back and said that I need to put it into Chicago, not MLA style, stat. So, tonight I'll be watching Downton Abbey and fixing footnotes. It's not a big thing, but it is tedious. And adding to my peevish mood.
I've got a novel to finish this week, too--Black Thunder: Gabriel's Revolt, Virginia 1800--along with a couple of chapters of Cotton's Queer Relations, and I've got to fit in a viewing of Mandigo, as well. Next week, we read Absalom, Absalom--one of my all time favorite novels. I need to go talk to the professor of this class again, though I just stopped by office hours this past week. I had a mentoring lunch with a WGS professor this week (which is such a wonderful idea, and I'm so grateful that we're doing this this semester), and in response to my question about whether it's a problem that my committee is currently made up of three men, the professor strongly urged me to consider asking my Queer South professor to be on my committee. True, this professor is a major reason why I came here, but she's been gone for the past year and a half, and I haven't had a chance to work with her at all.
At the WGS retreat yesterday, my WGS mentor said that she'd thought about it more and thinks its even more important that I get her on my committee, as her work really lines up with my own. Sigh. I need to find a way to approach this that doesn't feel like asking people to the prom, which is what it feels like right now. I know that every single person I've asked for advice about how to get through a phd program without regrets or bitterness has emphasized the importance of having the right committee, which may be adding to the stress I feel about this.
I think I get Tuesday off this week, which I haven't had in a couple of weeks. I'm supposed to go to dance class Monday night, but I'm feeling quite reluctant about that, too. I missed this past week (I went to sleep instead), and I believe we're at the point where we're expected to dance with partners. I don't want to dance with a partner. It's not like West Coast Swing, which I feel more comfortable with--I think this Chicago Swing is much more of an intimate dance experience.
Oh, peevishness. I shall relocate myself upstairs now, and settle in for the two-hour Downton Abbey. I expect that it will lighten my mood somewhat.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Focusing on the positive
I started student conferences yesterday. The rough draft for their first paper is due Friday, with the final paper due next Friday. The first paper is a rhetorical analysis of a print ad--I like it as an exercise in analysis. So far, it's been quite a motley assortment. In class, I handed back the paper proposals and went over a few common issues I saw with them--one of which was a tendency with a few students to want to write some big sprawling paper on the history of gender roles in advertising, or do research, or write about an issue the ad brings up, but not about the ad itself.
My last conference of the day yesterday was like that--a real go-getter student, even after I'd talked about this in class, and noted on his paper proposal that the assignment is for an analysis of his ad, and not on the effects of materialism on divorce rates, he sat down in my office and said, "Let me tell you about the paper I'm going to write," and then proceeded to talk about his feelings on the effects of materialism on divorce rates. I explained again what this paper's focus should be, and explained my reasoning behind the arc of assignments in the course. I suggested that his larger interest might be something to keep in mind for the larger research project which we'll begin after this paper. He expressed understanding, but seemed less than excited about this assignment, which I got the impression he seems to think is beneath him.
Oh well. I intend to focus on the positive. Another student I met with yesterday emailed today, asking if she could meet with me again before Friday and have me look over her rough draft. That makes me feel hopeful, that there are students in the class who are working.
Still, I'm a bit annoyed that I waited until this semester to ask to have my teaching evaluated. I have a date now--March 9--which may be the same lesson plan I did when I was taped for evaluation purposes at UT. Fingers crossed that by that point, the class will have gelled a bit more. If they don't, though, I'm a bit torn whether I should warn the evaluator before the class period about the class. I have a good reputation as a teacher now; I wonder if, when I confirm the date a week or so before the class period, if I should note that it's not the most engaged class I've ever taught, partly because there are a couple of large cliques of friends in the class. I plan on addressing that this week by having them count off on Friday and randomly assigning partners for the rough draft workshop, rather than having them pick their partners.
And in other good news, I sent out the semester's calendar of events for the WGS Graduate Student Organization (WGSGO) to the list of DGSs I had one of the student workers in WGS put together for me. My hope was to reach some departments which are underrepresented in WGS--as much as it's nice to have English dominate, it would be nice to get some fresh perspectives (one thing which was quite beneficial when I did my independent study, required for a WGS minor, with a sociology professor). I've already heard from one graduate student in kinesiology, which I'm quite happy about.
This weekend is the WGS retreat, which I'm looking forward to a lot. I had such a good time at last years'--although, I will have a bunch of rough drafts to grade while I'm there. Last year, I had a bunch of Flannery O'Connor to read, which was highlighted by the noisy peacocks which roam about the retreat location.
And my Letter Writing Month commitments continue--it's been a really wonderful practice in gratitude. And, yesterday I got a lovely note from Mary Robinette Kowal, the fabulous author who came up with the program in the first place.
Positive! Happy thoughts!
(which I need, as I now resume my viewing of Birth of a Nation for the class I'm auditing. If only MST-3K had done a version...)
My last conference of the day yesterday was like that--a real go-getter student, even after I'd talked about this in class, and noted on his paper proposal that the assignment is for an analysis of his ad, and not on the effects of materialism on divorce rates, he sat down in my office and said, "Let me tell you about the paper I'm going to write," and then proceeded to talk about his feelings on the effects of materialism on divorce rates. I explained again what this paper's focus should be, and explained my reasoning behind the arc of assignments in the course. I suggested that his larger interest might be something to keep in mind for the larger research project which we'll begin after this paper. He expressed understanding, but seemed less than excited about this assignment, which I got the impression he seems to think is beneath him.
Oh well. I intend to focus on the positive. Another student I met with yesterday emailed today, asking if she could meet with me again before Friday and have me look over her rough draft. That makes me feel hopeful, that there are students in the class who are working.
Still, I'm a bit annoyed that I waited until this semester to ask to have my teaching evaluated. I have a date now--March 9--which may be the same lesson plan I did when I was taped for evaluation purposes at UT. Fingers crossed that by that point, the class will have gelled a bit more. If they don't, though, I'm a bit torn whether I should warn the evaluator before the class period about the class. I have a good reputation as a teacher now; I wonder if, when I confirm the date a week or so before the class period, if I should note that it's not the most engaged class I've ever taught, partly because there are a couple of large cliques of friends in the class. I plan on addressing that this week by having them count off on Friday and randomly assigning partners for the rough draft workshop, rather than having them pick their partners.
And in other good news, I sent out the semester's calendar of events for the WGS Graduate Student Organization (WGSGO) to the list of DGSs I had one of the student workers in WGS put together for me. My hope was to reach some departments which are underrepresented in WGS--as much as it's nice to have English dominate, it would be nice to get some fresh perspectives (one thing which was quite beneficial when I did my independent study, required for a WGS minor, with a sociology professor). I've already heard from one graduate student in kinesiology, which I'm quite happy about.
This weekend is the WGS retreat, which I'm looking forward to a lot. I had such a good time at last years'--although, I will have a bunch of rough drafts to grade while I'm there. Last year, I had a bunch of Flannery O'Connor to read, which was highlighted by the noisy peacocks which roam about the retreat location.
And my Letter Writing Month commitments continue--it's been a really wonderful practice in gratitude. And, yesterday I got a lovely note from Mary Robinette Kowal, the fabulous author who came up with the program in the first place.
Positive! Happy thoughts!
(which I need, as I now resume my viewing of Birth of a Nation for the class I'm auditing. If only MST-3K had done a version...)
Friday, February 3, 2012
What I tried today
Yesterday afternoon in the class I'm auditing, the professor was asked a question about dealing with difficult classmates. She related a story about a classmate she had in grad school who annoyed the heck out of her, because regardless of what the conversation was about, this student always, always managed to twist it around to his particular historical interest. She said that she finally decided that, rather than be annoyed by this habit, she decided instead to love it about him.
I used a similar strategy when I was a secretary in hospital administration--there were some doctors who had some really insulting habits, which I finally decided to use as opportunities to practice some of the Buddhist mind-training slogans I was learning at the time. It did work, to a certain extent--though for a while, my thought of, "I'm so glad to have the opportunity to practice patience" had a decidedly sarcastic tone to it, eventually meant that sentiment more sincerely. I was grateful for the opportunity to practice patience. Other times, I would wave my hands and think to myself (or a couple of times, actually stated out loud), "I am a Bodhisattva Warrior!!!" That one at least would make me laugh, even if I couldn't quite mean it at the time.
My intention today in class was to try to love what's infuriating about the class, and to try to play to their strengths--namely, the fact that they all know each other and enjoy chatting about this weekend's party. Today, I checked that they each had picked an advertisement to use for their papers, collected the paragraphs they wrote about them, and talked briefly with them about their papers. Meanwhile, they had thesis statement worksheets to complete, which only involve a bit of collaboration toward the end. However, three times I had to tell them to be quiet and get to work. At the beginning of class, they didn't respond to my closing the door to signal class starting, or even my standing in the middle of the front of the classroom, waiting for them to realize class was starting. Again, I had to raise my voice to get their attention.
There are only 22 students in this class. And it's a sophomore level class. I'm disappointed at the lack of maturity most of them are displaying. The last time I taught English 2000, it was much better: unlike the 1001 class, I didn't have students who were struggling with first year issues (figuring out how to feed themselves, for example) in that class, and it was nice to have students who had jobs and a decent sense of responsibility. That was the class in which a pretty intense debate broke out over why college students should have to take humanities classes--I had some really engaged students. The engaged students I have in this class are much quieter--or maybe just seem so, in comparison.
Next week they're coming to meet with me about their papers, and my hope is that one on one time with them will be useful. I'm quite annoyed that it's this semester that I finally requested to have my teaching evaluated--as it appears that teaching evaluations here are voluntary and not that common (yet another thing on my list of things I miss about UT), I wish I had realized that evals don't happen automatically here earlier, and had another class evaluated. I did get my teaching evaluated by a faculty member in my WGS class last semester, which went really well, so I do at least have that.
Right now, I'm taking a break. Later this weekend, I'll do my lesson plans for the week and see if I can come up with some new intentions to bring with me to class next week. For at least the next 24 hours, though, to misquote Ross Geller, WE ARE ON A BREAK!!
I used a similar strategy when I was a secretary in hospital administration--there were some doctors who had some really insulting habits, which I finally decided to use as opportunities to practice some of the Buddhist mind-training slogans I was learning at the time. It did work, to a certain extent--though for a while, my thought of, "I'm so glad to have the opportunity to practice patience" had a decidedly sarcastic tone to it, eventually meant that sentiment more sincerely. I was grateful for the opportunity to practice patience. Other times, I would wave my hands and think to myself (or a couple of times, actually stated out loud), "I am a Bodhisattva Warrior!!!" That one at least would make me laugh, even if I couldn't quite mean it at the time.
My intention today in class was to try to love what's infuriating about the class, and to try to play to their strengths--namely, the fact that they all know each other and enjoy chatting about this weekend's party. Today, I checked that they each had picked an advertisement to use for their papers, collected the paragraphs they wrote about them, and talked briefly with them about their papers. Meanwhile, they had thesis statement worksheets to complete, which only involve a bit of collaboration toward the end. However, three times I had to tell them to be quiet and get to work. At the beginning of class, they didn't respond to my closing the door to signal class starting, or even my standing in the middle of the front of the classroom, waiting for them to realize class was starting. Again, I had to raise my voice to get their attention.
There are only 22 students in this class. And it's a sophomore level class. I'm disappointed at the lack of maturity most of them are displaying. The last time I taught English 2000, it was much better: unlike the 1001 class, I didn't have students who were struggling with first year issues (figuring out how to feed themselves, for example) in that class, and it was nice to have students who had jobs and a decent sense of responsibility. That was the class in which a pretty intense debate broke out over why college students should have to take humanities classes--I had some really engaged students. The engaged students I have in this class are much quieter--or maybe just seem so, in comparison.
Next week they're coming to meet with me about their papers, and my hope is that one on one time with them will be useful. I'm quite annoyed that it's this semester that I finally requested to have my teaching evaluated--as it appears that teaching evaluations here are voluntary and not that common (yet another thing on my list of things I miss about UT), I wish I had realized that evals don't happen automatically here earlier, and had another class evaluated. I did get my teaching evaluated by a faculty member in my WGS class last semester, which went really well, so I do at least have that.
Right now, I'm taking a break. Later this weekend, I'll do my lesson plans for the week and see if I can come up with some new intentions to bring with me to class next week. For at least the next 24 hours, though, to misquote Ross Geller, WE ARE ON A BREAK!!
Monday, January 30, 2012
Now that the shininess is wearing off
A few years ago (2006, I believe), I went to a weekend retreat on "dancing the goddess free" in Asheville (I mean, come on, it was in Asheville). It was such a wonderful experience--one of the outcomes of the weekend, in fact, was my determination and decision to finish my BA in earnest (and here I am six years later with not only a BA but an MA and coursework completed toward my doctorate. Quite the weekend, indeed). However, the Monday after the retreat was AWFUL--I was so sad. I missed being excited about jumping out of bed to go to sunrise yoga by the pond. I felt resentful toward my asinine coworkers. I didn't care one iota about transcribing meeting notes.
I think something like that may be going on in my teaching right now. After teaching two sections of Introduction to Women's and Gender Studies last semester (70 students total!), returning to teaching composition feels like a let down. I've taught this class once before, and haven't made any major changes (partly because I think this sequence of assignments makes sense, and partly because we were given about a week's notice to turn in our syllabuses for this semester during finals week last semester). Sure, had I wanted to make a major change, I could have, but I think that, for a class whose focus is argument and research, this assignment sequence--a rhetorical analysis of a print ad, group skits on argument fallacies, followed by a research project which includes an annotated bibliography, a researched expository paper, and a researched position paper--accomplishes the major goals of the class.
I wish I could resurrect the themed 102 class I did at UT, which had research its focus, and was focused on the South. It included field research and archival research, along with academic research. However, the way that schedules keep shaking out, I keep missing the window of opportunity to submit my themed course proposal. That's one solution for my boredom.
I also fully admit that teaching a WGS course last semester has contributed to this feeling of let-down I have this semester. WGS was so fun--the students were such a self-selected group, and were so excited about what we were doing, and the course material was so interesting and relevant. My intention is to have even composition course material be interesting and relevant, but it's starting to feel stale. And, this class is made up primarily of two groups of friends, so I'm having to wait out the chit-chat more than usual. This detracts from my motivation.
I was reading Donne Quesada's Buddha in the Classroom last night, which addressed just this feeling of burn out and boredom. Her suggestions included trying to stay in the moment and connect with students individually, which I tried today. I also started the day by sitting zazen for ten minutes, though that led to my not having time to sit down and eat my cereal this morning. I took it in a baggie without milk, instead.
Now that I think about it, I am intending on trying some new things in the classroom, like incorporating some of Sondra Perl's Felt Sense exercises. It's just that this is the first time I've been in the classroom and not been totally excited about being there. I'd so much rather be doing my own work--I've got a couple of articles I'm really excited about right now, and the course I'm auditing (on the Queer South!) is overlapping nicely with both my reading lists and my interests. I finally sat down last week and closely read all of Foucault's History of Sexuality, Volume 1, and was so jazzed about it. I'd like the jazz to bleed over into my classroom, right now.
(now I'm thinking about writing a poem called "I'd like the jazz to bleed)
I suppose I'm being incredibly demanding right now. I'm used to having less than stellar classes as a student; this is the first time I've felt that way about a class I'm teaching. And it's only week two. Ah, learning experiences.
I think something like that may be going on in my teaching right now. After teaching two sections of Introduction to Women's and Gender Studies last semester (70 students total!), returning to teaching composition feels like a let down. I've taught this class once before, and haven't made any major changes (partly because I think this sequence of assignments makes sense, and partly because we were given about a week's notice to turn in our syllabuses for this semester during finals week last semester). Sure, had I wanted to make a major change, I could have, but I think that, for a class whose focus is argument and research, this assignment sequence--a rhetorical analysis of a print ad, group skits on argument fallacies, followed by a research project which includes an annotated bibliography, a researched expository paper, and a researched position paper--accomplishes the major goals of the class.
I wish I could resurrect the themed 102 class I did at UT, which had research its focus, and was focused on the South. It included field research and archival research, along with academic research. However, the way that schedules keep shaking out, I keep missing the window of opportunity to submit my themed course proposal. That's one solution for my boredom.
I also fully admit that teaching a WGS course last semester has contributed to this feeling of let-down I have this semester. WGS was so fun--the students were such a self-selected group, and were so excited about what we were doing, and the course material was so interesting and relevant. My intention is to have even composition course material be interesting and relevant, but it's starting to feel stale. And, this class is made up primarily of two groups of friends, so I'm having to wait out the chit-chat more than usual. This detracts from my motivation.
I was reading Donne Quesada's Buddha in the Classroom last night, which addressed just this feeling of burn out and boredom. Her suggestions included trying to stay in the moment and connect with students individually, which I tried today. I also started the day by sitting zazen for ten minutes, though that led to my not having time to sit down and eat my cereal this morning. I took it in a baggie without milk, instead.
Now that I think about it, I am intending on trying some new things in the classroom, like incorporating some of Sondra Perl's Felt Sense exercises. It's just that this is the first time I've been in the classroom and not been totally excited about being there. I'd so much rather be doing my own work--I've got a couple of articles I'm really excited about right now, and the course I'm auditing (on the Queer South!) is overlapping nicely with both my reading lists and my interests. I finally sat down last week and closely read all of Foucault's History of Sexuality, Volume 1, and was so jazzed about it. I'd like the jazz to bleed over into my classroom, right now.
(now I'm thinking about writing a poem called "I'd like the jazz to bleed)
I suppose I'm being incredibly demanding right now. I'm used to having less than stellar classes as a student; this is the first time I've felt that way about a class I'm teaching. And it's only week two. Ah, learning experiences.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Wish list
As I slowly work my way through these revisions for my Gaiman chapter, I'm taking a quick break to make a list of all of things I want to do over winter break which have absolutely nothing to do with school:
- Go dancing
- Make Christmas cookies with various children
- Re-read A Little Princess
- Watch Live Aid
- Watch The Homecoming and The Minister's Wife
- Practice Italian for my trip to Florence in June
- Decorate for Christmas
- Finish The Marriage Plot and read Joan Didion's new book
- Get my nails done
- See all of my fabulous Ohio friends
- Find out my nephews' current theories about Santa Claus
- Go to the gym
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Smacked in the face by the end of the semester like a two-by-four
I felt a momentary relief to have that presentation behind me, but now face Friday's deadline for revising this paper on The Messenger. I've done major revisions and more research to supplement my claims. My wonderful professor is being quite helpful in making recommendations for other work to look at, but the quickly approaching Friday deadline is making me feel anxious.
All of the quickly approaching deadlines are making me feel as though the end of the semester is smacking me in the face with a two-by-four. (Though that may be exacerbated by my forehead still hurting a bit from where I smacked it on the overhead compartment Sunday.) We've got one more reading next week for my southern class, and then conference papers start the following week, with seminar versions of those paper due the end of the semester. I've got to put something together for my independent study. And I've got to write and then grade my classes' finals; I give finals Tuesday and Thursday of finals week, and then have to be in Ohio for my dad's wedding that Saturday. Grades are due the next Wednesday. I don't relish the thought of dragging two classes worth of blue books with me on the plane.
I got a flat out rejection back from the Mississippi Quarterly on my Welty paper which my adviser said would be "easy to publish." That's not helping my feelings of usefulness at the moment. At least my readings for teaching and for class right now are enjoyable reads--we start Alison Bechdel's Fun Home Thursday in WGS, and next week we're reading a post-apocalyptic South book called Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse, which you've gotta love just for the name. It takes place in East Tennessee, which makes it an enjoyable (albeit weirdly nostalgic, as I keep missing Tennessee a lot lately) read.
I don't like feeling incompetent and behind. I will now have some lunch and read read read, something I can do, which I hope will make me feel a little more capable.
All of the quickly approaching deadlines are making me feel as though the end of the semester is smacking me in the face with a two-by-four. (Though that may be exacerbated by my forehead still hurting a bit from where I smacked it on the overhead compartment Sunday.) We've got one more reading next week for my southern class, and then conference papers start the following week, with seminar versions of those paper due the end of the semester. I've got to put something together for my independent study. And I've got to write and then grade my classes' finals; I give finals Tuesday and Thursday of finals week, and then have to be in Ohio for my dad's wedding that Saturday. Grades are due the next Wednesday. I don't relish the thought of dragging two classes worth of blue books with me on the plane.
I got a flat out rejection back from the Mississippi Quarterly on my Welty paper which my adviser said would be "easy to publish." That's not helping my feelings of usefulness at the moment. At least my readings for teaching and for class right now are enjoyable reads--we start Alison Bechdel's Fun Home Thursday in WGS, and next week we're reading a post-apocalyptic South book called Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse, which you've gotta love just for the name. It takes place in East Tennessee, which makes it an enjoyable (albeit weirdly nostalgic, as I keep missing Tennessee a lot lately) read.
I don't like feeling incompetent and behind. I will now have some lunch and read read read, something I can do, which I hope will make me feel a little more capable.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Teaching Philosophy
The last few days I've participated in discussions about teaching both in person and online. As I'm working on updating my teaching philosophy (or rather, writing a new one from scratch) for a teaching award, these discussions have been quite timely. Once again, I feel quite grateful to have had the teaching prep at UT-K that I did--even if my pedagogy class was not my favorite thing I've ever done, having such a close cohort and so many different kinds of training before I was in charge of my own classroom prepared me for teaching so much better than I might have been at other places.
One aspect of teaching which continues to bother me is how much animosity there seems to be in the classroom. Reading this today was quite synchronicity, after last night talking to friends about the rampant feelings of frustration felt by teachers which often seems to come out as lack of respect for students. Certainly, it's frustrating to try to teach college students who often will send emails or write papers containing sentences so poorly spelled and constructed that sometimes I have to ask my husband for his best guess at what the writer intended. And the plagiarism and excuses and half-assed work can certainly lead to suspicion, fatigue, and offense that students would actually think they could get away with some of the shenanigans they attempt.
(I started feeling myself getting curmudgeonly there, so I just decided to dive right into the curmudgeonliness with a word choice like "shenanigans.")
I also realize, though, that none of these things have to do with me personally. When students try to cheat, or turn in poorly-executed assignments, I realize that they're not actually thinking, "That'll really piss off that bitch!" about me. More likely, they're sleep-deprived, or freaked out about a relationship or a test or their job or any of a hundred other things. In the middle of grading sixty-some assignments, though, or noticing someone texting in the middle of class, it can be easy to lose sight of.
One aspect of teaching which continues to bother me is how much animosity there seems to be in the classroom. Reading this today was quite synchronicity, after last night talking to friends about the rampant feelings of frustration felt by teachers which often seems to come out as lack of respect for students. Certainly, it's frustrating to try to teach college students who often will send emails or write papers containing sentences so poorly spelled and constructed that sometimes I have to ask my husband for his best guess at what the writer intended. And the plagiarism and excuses and half-assed work can certainly lead to suspicion, fatigue, and offense that students would actually think they could get away with some of the shenanigans they attempt.
(I started feeling myself getting curmudgeonly there, so I just decided to dive right into the curmudgeonliness with a word choice like "shenanigans.")
I also realize, though, that none of these things have to do with me personally. When students try to cheat, or turn in poorly-executed assignments, I realize that they're not actually thinking, "That'll really piss off that bitch!" about me. More likely, they're sleep-deprived, or freaked out about a relationship or a test or their job or any of a hundred other things. In the middle of grading sixty-some assignments, though, or noticing someone texting in the middle of class, it can be easy to lose sight of.
With all of this in mind, I rewrote my teaching philosophy to submit for this award. Suggestions?
In all of my classes, my ultimate goal is to engage my students in the material. I begin from what scholar Kevin Porter describes as a pedagogy of charity, one which assumes that students are rational beings who come to the classroom with an intention to learn and be successful. While I am not naïve enough to imagine that every student who enters a first year composition class is excited about writing an assigned position paper, I work to present material in myriad ways, so that students of differing learning methods will find ways to engage with the material. My fundamental commitments are to having a process-oriented and student-centered classroom, which means that I’m interested in my students’ expectations and needs, and I’m not afraid to change my methods in order to better meet my students needs. At the same time, however, I expect a level of engagement and participation from my students which I feel is necessary for their own success.
As I teach composition and general education level courses, I realize that my students represent a variety of backgrounds, competence levels, as well as levels of interest, and I take it as a challenge to implement a variety of teaching methods to engage my students at whatever position they arrive at my classroom from. I structure assignments to emphasize learning as a process: in this way, I’m not only ensuring that my students are never sitting the night before a major assignment is due staring at a blank page. This also reinforces a more basic principle that academic success is best achieved through regular study and work, rather than last-minute cramming and all-nighters.
Whether I’m teaching a composition class or a more content driven general education class, I ultimately want my students to learn the skills of analysis and research. In the classroom, I use a combination of lecture (with PowerPoint presentations to highlight key terms) along with video presentations, classroom group work, and in-class writing and revision. Even in larger general education class, participation counts for ten percent of students’ final grades; this reinforces the value I place upon student engagement in their own learning process. Additionally, I encourage students to find research and writing topics about which they’re excited already—the best student writing occurs when students are excited about their writing. And such excited translates into an interest and a willingness to expend the necessary effort to take their work to the next level.
Even in more content-driven general education classes, I work to make the material relevant to my students. In every class, I begin the semester with a larger discussion of the purpose of the humanities in education, in order directly address the concerns or resentments of students who might be resistant to requirements which put, say, engineering majors into a poetry class. I start classes by acknowledging that while not everyone may go into a class sharing a love of the content, the skills and content of such class do translate into a critical consciousness which is necessary not only for higher education in general, but educated citizenhood in general. This not only provides an opportunity for students to vent their own frustration (and often their own passions about the subject, too), but it also gives my classes a foundation of honest communication. I strive for transparency to my teaching methods and desire a reciprocal candor from my students, and have been generally pleased with the learning environment such openness can result in.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
It's a CV line, right?
So often, that's supposed to be the incentive to do things in graduate school. At this point, though, I have lots of things on my CV (I probably need to do some pruning, though I really hate to take the performance poetry off), so I'm trying really hard to focus on doing things that are genuinely beneficial.
Today should have been one of those things. After my column on plagiarism was published on Inside Higher Ed's website this summer, the department chair asked if I'd like to do a talk for the department about it. As there's no longer money to bring in speakers to the department, they try to draw on the resources within the department for informative talks; this would be another one of those. A couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk by a professor about the necessity for and the future of the humanities, which was well-attended, fascinating, and prompted a nice exchange during the session.
I put a lot of thought and practice into my talk today; the thought of presenting something department-wide was daunting. Alas, I needn't have worried: five people attended.
The professor who organized the event was quite apologetic and seemed rather pissed. There were two professors and three grad students present. I knew that several of my friends would be in a class which conflicted with the time--that professor, along with my own adviser, sent their regrets that couldn't attend. But only two professors on a Wednesday afternoon?
I admit that it's not surprising--people in this department (as well as the university in general) simply don't interact in the ways that they did at my last university. At orientation, grad students were told at the university-wide orientation for new GTAs that the university has a "culture of absence"--though they were talking about class attendance by students, I think that the description could just as likely apply more generally. A surprising (to me) number of grad students and professors live in New Orleans (an hour and a half away) and commute to LSU. Even those who live closer don't spend a lot of time on campus. One of the frustrations I faced last year was the discovery that for many professors, it's necessary to confirm that they'll actually be at their posted office hours, as unless they are expecting a student, they'll skip them.
More and more I appreciate and miss the much more community-oriented, collegial atmosphere at UT. More than anything I miss the reading groups, the established faculty/grad student groups which met regularly to discuss important works in various areas--critical theory, Americanist studies, 18th century lit. Attending the feminist studies reading group from the start of grad school was crucial to my success there--not only did I meet other students who shared my interest, but it was a low-stakes environment in which to meet and interact with faculty members.
Here, there are faculty writing groups, and I've been involved in a few informal reading groups, but it doesn't seem the two overlap. I've started a reading group in WGS here, and our first meeting we had one professor attend. It's a start. But this evening I'm feeling frustrated that there's not more interaction on campus--and this is probably exacerbated by my frustration at still feeling isolated, after a year, living here. It's quite difficult to have a social life as a graduate student if you enjoy neither bars nor drinking nor sports.
None of this is new, and it is certainly slowly improving. And today I did have an opportunity to give a presentation on a topic which is important to me, and got some good feedback from the people who were present. And Tuesday is yet another presentation, a dry run panel presentation sponsored by the EGSA which will give me an opportunity to try out my weird Flannery O'Connor paper that I'm presenting next weekend for the Flannery O'Connor panel at SAMLA. Even if five people attend that, I'll get a chance to practice and perhaps some feedback whether my pairing it with the Ministry song that samples dialogue from Wise Blood makes any sense whatsoever.
So, in the larger scheme of things, today was a blip. But still an annoying blip.
Today should have been one of those things. After my column on plagiarism was published on Inside Higher Ed's website this summer, the department chair asked if I'd like to do a talk for the department about it. As there's no longer money to bring in speakers to the department, they try to draw on the resources within the department for informative talks; this would be another one of those. A couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk by a professor about the necessity for and the future of the humanities, which was well-attended, fascinating, and prompted a nice exchange during the session.
I put a lot of thought and practice into my talk today; the thought of presenting something department-wide was daunting. Alas, I needn't have worried: five people attended.
The professor who organized the event was quite apologetic and seemed rather pissed. There were two professors and three grad students present. I knew that several of my friends would be in a class which conflicted with the time--that professor, along with my own adviser, sent their regrets that couldn't attend. But only two professors on a Wednesday afternoon?
I admit that it's not surprising--people in this department (as well as the university in general) simply don't interact in the ways that they did at my last university. At orientation, grad students were told at the university-wide orientation for new GTAs that the university has a "culture of absence"--though they were talking about class attendance by students, I think that the description could just as likely apply more generally. A surprising (to me) number of grad students and professors live in New Orleans (an hour and a half away) and commute to LSU. Even those who live closer don't spend a lot of time on campus. One of the frustrations I faced last year was the discovery that for many professors, it's necessary to confirm that they'll actually be at their posted office hours, as unless they are expecting a student, they'll skip them.
More and more I appreciate and miss the much more community-oriented, collegial atmosphere at UT. More than anything I miss the reading groups, the established faculty/grad student groups which met regularly to discuss important works in various areas--critical theory, Americanist studies, 18th century lit. Attending the feminist studies reading group from the start of grad school was crucial to my success there--not only did I meet other students who shared my interest, but it was a low-stakes environment in which to meet and interact with faculty members.
Here, there are faculty writing groups, and I've been involved in a few informal reading groups, but it doesn't seem the two overlap. I've started a reading group in WGS here, and our first meeting we had one professor attend. It's a start. But this evening I'm feeling frustrated that there's not more interaction on campus--and this is probably exacerbated by my frustration at still feeling isolated, after a year, living here. It's quite difficult to have a social life as a graduate student if you enjoy neither bars nor drinking nor sports.
None of this is new, and it is certainly slowly improving. And today I did have an opportunity to give a presentation on a topic which is important to me, and got some good feedback from the people who were present. And Tuesday is yet another presentation, a dry run panel presentation sponsored by the EGSA which will give me an opportunity to try out my weird Flannery O'Connor paper that I'm presenting next weekend for the Flannery O'Connor panel at SAMLA. Even if five people attend that, I'll get a chance to practice and perhaps some feedback whether my pairing it with the Ministry song that samples dialogue from Wise Blood makes any sense whatsoever.
So, in the larger scheme of things, today was a blip. But still an annoying blip.
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