Marking rate of 2 papers/hour. Much better than my rate in previous years. Also, so far, comparatively little angst.
On the downside, serious educational deficiencies. How to address this next time? Perhaps a manual of basic writing conventions and expectations? Not the most stimulating summer project, but better than watching intelligent people flounder helplessly.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
For next year
- give specific instructions
- break tasks into steps. Not 'annotate, freewrite, and devise a thesis," but each on its own.
- For thesis statement exercise - in class 'what's wrong'. Take home - look at poem and create a new thesis.
- At start - trust? Define analysis. Talk about specific outcomes. Address reasons - for course, for starting with poetry.
- Slow down. Do more with less. Use songs, but pair with poems on sim themes?
- First essay - advertising analysis? Or pop song analysis? Followed by poem analysis? Keep the open choice for poem, but find out what they've done in high school and ban these.
- Have them work in pairs.
- Do a proper diagnostic. Maybe an analysis of their high school English education (analysis, not response). Start with a discussion/definition of analysis, then the diagnostic assignment. Perhaps "what has your program prepared you to do?" or "what were the strengths and weaknesses of your program?"
- Address writing instruction more directly. What have they been taught? What do they want to know?
Can I start over yet?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Back on the Bus
The boy has committed to blogging more regularly, and that inspires me to return to my own writing practice. We've been talking a lot about writing recently (as I try to track down the roots of my regular bouts of paralysis - something in evidence as early as grade 4, or so my report cards suggest), and I figure it's one of those things one needs to do as much as contemplate.
There are lots of things to catch y'all up on. Our house is progressing, and we're planning for Halloween. I'm spending most of my free time in rehearsal or otherwise working on the play (Romeo and Juliet), but we're also finding 101 uses for plums, learning how to compost, and starting a new D&D group. Then there's the book labyrinth I'm building upstairs, and the new friends and social groups we're trying out, and the 'old' friends (all of a few months?) we're hanging out with, and the really old friends that we're struggling to stay in touch with. Phew!
But today, I'm going to focus on teaching, since that's one of this blog's main rasons for existence. My drama class is going well. I am, at the least, getting their attention, and they often come in with good discoveries. We have long rambling conversations that I feel cover all the pertinent points. Sometimes we climb up on desks or play with visual aids. Other times we have more focused discussions about language or theory. The past few classes we've discussed medieval drama, which was fun because it's what I know best, but also a challenge, because it's too easy to spend the whole time rambling about minutiae they don't need to know. Their essays will come in next week, so we'll see how things are really going for them, but right now it feels like a very healthy seminar class.
The first year lit survey, on the other hand, left the rails a while ago. The good side is that I took us off the rails intentionally. It was clear to me that I wasn't getting the feedback I expected, the signs that said they were starting to add up the ideas. The first unit is supposed to be a careful balance of introducing new terms, reviewing old ones, and showing them that, in many ways, they know this stuff already. Instead, I felt like I was calling into the void. They got some of the 'sound analysis' concepts, but when I got into structure (the stuff they'd clearly come across before), they shut down. I think (and this is only hypothesis, of course) that the things they recognize from high school send them into a pavlovian shut down. "Yes, teacher. I will write that down, teacher. Whatever you say, teacher."
In long talks with a colleague, I've learned that these students, far more than the ones I've taught before, have been inculcated in the culture of "don't contradict or second guess the teacher." Most of my teaching expereince has been at high end universities - top-rank, regional institutions with high entry requirements. I got a different group at the college, but they responded well to my flippantly rebellious attitude. They were the students who had chafed at being told they couldn't hack it. All they needed (and wanted) was an instructor who agreed that they were capable and, ta da, they were. But students I'm teaching now... a different background again. My colleague has a daughter in the school system here, and her sense is that students succeed by learning to keep their heads down and show respect to authority. Good gods! Authority?! Sure, I want respect, but I want it for every person in the classroom, and I can't work in an authoritarian classroom model. DOES NOT COMPUTE.
A couple weeks ago, I took my own growing dissatisfaction with the course as a sign that I neede to reconceive my approach. Activities were going painfully slowly. Students weren't doing any work outside of the classroom - not reading in advance, and certainly not thinking in advance - so activities meant to demonstrate their inate knowledge instead reinforced their failure.
Huh. I just contextualized something else my colleague mentioned. Her daughter had an assignment to fill out and didn't put down an answer that her mother knew she knew. When asked why, the daughter said, "We weren't told the answer, and if I put down an answer we weren't told, I'll get in trouble." She was put in a position where, if she showed initiative, she would get into trouble. And it's exactly that lack of initiative that's driving me crazy. I've dealt with people who have been taught that no one cares what they think, but not with people who have actually been punished for thinking.
Which is not to say, of course, that they don't think. But when they are put on the spot in a classroom enviornment, they will turtle, knowing that that is safer than taking a guess. Asking for their thoughts and opinions won't work. I need to give them chances to develop those opinions safely, and then surprise them into sharing them with me and reward them for taking that risk. I've already discovered that they are far more forthcoming when they talk to each other first, so I want to keep building on that - the think-pair-share style exercises are going to be far, far more effective than open discussion. And I need to get the few who are already talking to take some leadership. Hmmm....
So. That's where I am. I've thrown the schedule out the window. I've postponed the first essay deadline, despite the way that destabilizes my schedule and theirs. I plan to cover the remaining key concepts for the essay, and then get them to develop their essays together in stages. And I hope to gods that this is the right tactic or it is going to be a very, very long year.
Any other suggestions, dear readers?
There are lots of things to catch y'all up on. Our house is progressing, and we're planning for Halloween. I'm spending most of my free time in rehearsal or otherwise working on the play (Romeo and Juliet), but we're also finding 101 uses for plums, learning how to compost, and starting a new D&D group. Then there's the book labyrinth I'm building upstairs, and the new friends and social groups we're trying out, and the 'old' friends (all of a few months?) we're hanging out with, and the really old friends that we're struggling to stay in touch with. Phew!
But today, I'm going to focus on teaching, since that's one of this blog's main rasons for existence. My drama class is going well. I am, at the least, getting their attention, and they often come in with good discoveries. We have long rambling conversations that I feel cover all the pertinent points. Sometimes we climb up on desks or play with visual aids. Other times we have more focused discussions about language or theory. The past few classes we've discussed medieval drama, which was fun because it's what I know best, but also a challenge, because it's too easy to spend the whole time rambling about minutiae they don't need to know. Their essays will come in next week, so we'll see how things are really going for them, but right now it feels like a very healthy seminar class.
The first year lit survey, on the other hand, left the rails a while ago. The good side is that I took us off the rails intentionally. It was clear to me that I wasn't getting the feedback I expected, the signs that said they were starting to add up the ideas. The first unit is supposed to be a careful balance of introducing new terms, reviewing old ones, and showing them that, in many ways, they know this stuff already. Instead, I felt like I was calling into the void. They got some of the 'sound analysis' concepts, but when I got into structure (the stuff they'd clearly come across before), they shut down. I think (and this is only hypothesis, of course) that the things they recognize from high school send them into a pavlovian shut down. "Yes, teacher. I will write that down, teacher. Whatever you say, teacher."
In long talks with a colleague, I've learned that these students, far more than the ones I've taught before, have been inculcated in the culture of "don't contradict or second guess the teacher." Most of my teaching expereince has been at high end universities - top-rank, regional institutions with high entry requirements. I got a different group at the college, but they responded well to my flippantly rebellious attitude. They were the students who had chafed at being told they couldn't hack it. All they needed (and wanted) was an instructor who agreed that they were capable and, ta da, they were. But students I'm teaching now... a different background again. My colleague has a daughter in the school system here, and her sense is that students succeed by learning to keep their heads down and show respect to authority. Good gods! Authority?! Sure, I want respect, but I want it for every person in the classroom, and I can't work in an authoritarian classroom model. DOES NOT COMPUTE.
A couple weeks ago, I took my own growing dissatisfaction with the course as a sign that I neede to reconceive my approach. Activities were going painfully slowly. Students weren't doing any work outside of the classroom - not reading in advance, and certainly not thinking in advance - so activities meant to demonstrate their inate knowledge instead reinforced their failure.
Huh. I just contextualized something else my colleague mentioned. Her daughter had an assignment to fill out and didn't put down an answer that her mother knew she knew. When asked why, the daughter said, "We weren't told the answer, and if I put down an answer we weren't told, I'll get in trouble." She was put in a position where, if she showed initiative, she would get into trouble. And it's exactly that lack of initiative that's driving me crazy. I've dealt with people who have been taught that no one cares what they think, but not with people who have actually been punished for thinking.
Which is not to say, of course, that they don't think. But when they are put on the spot in a classroom enviornment, they will turtle, knowing that that is safer than taking a guess. Asking for their thoughts and opinions won't work. I need to give them chances to develop those opinions safely, and then surprise them into sharing them with me and reward them for taking that risk. I've already discovered that they are far more forthcoming when they talk to each other first, so I want to keep building on that - the think-pair-share style exercises are going to be far, far more effective than open discussion. And I need to get the few who are already talking to take some leadership. Hmmm....
So. That's where I am. I've thrown the schedule out the window. I've postponed the first essay deadline, despite the way that destabilizes my schedule and theirs. I plan to cover the remaining key concepts for the essay, and then get them to develop their essays together in stages. And I hope to gods that this is the right tactic or it is going to be a very, very long year.
Any other suggestions, dear readers?
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Surf(ac)ing
I'm not sure if I'm riding the waves or just coming up for air. Life proceeds to unfold and shift until it fits the bounty that surrounds me. I picked plums today. And read a little about Rome. And decided where to hang masks. And watched LOTR with the man I love. It was a very good day.
I can't begin to describe what moving here has been like. A turning inside out? A coming home? A challenge I both fear and desire. It is one thing to train most of your adult life to do a thing. It is another to know you will be able to do it for as long as you still love doing it. It is a very good feeling.
Let us see. After Meelzebub and the Leiflet left (one of the inexpressible joys), the boy arrived, I caught cold (sigh), and school began... all in pretty short order. At the end of the first week of classes, we held auditions, and this week, started rehearsals for R&J, or which I am SM. Heh. Madness, thy name is....
Classes are good, if off to a rocky start. I am still adjusting to the students, figuring out what they know, and talking too much in the process. I have stuff to teach them, but I also need to learn what they know and how they have learned to see things. I'm still reeling a bit (a lot?) from all this change, so my timing isn't perfect and I'm having trouble slowing down and listening to them. I need to give them time to talk or they will start to believ that it's all about my opinion. It's not. I give them the tools, but they create the thoughts with them. I need to start seeing that happen. I've started to take in freewriting from the drama class, and they are... inspired, if sometimes rough. I'm eager to see the first years' work, though I can't afford to read it all. More's the shame. I feel that I have to move quickly, and I fear I will leave some behind. I hope I can win them over and watch them take ownership of their own ideas.
The play is... glorious. And a good opportunity. I am meeting people, learning the theatre on my feet. I'm surprised to find a streak of stubborness in me when I'm SM, and I struggle to remain supportive while my practical voice wants to root for the simpler, cleaner, safer options. A strange mix of perspectives is the SMs. I am very glad to have recruited ASMs to take some of the need for attentiveness on. A good help to be able to assign others to watch for safety hazards and keep the actors focused and occupied.
Still working on the article. I won't finish in time (and there's a couple other things past due now, which I have to focus on not lamenting), but I am doing the work and moving forward. The idea is sound; it needs the support of research, though not too much.
But days like today, I still push it all aside and celebrate plums and creative energy, love and community. In a week, we'll be at a writers' festival in Baddeck; in two weeks we start a new D&D game. I love where I live. I love what I do. I love the people I get to do it with. These are the gifts we live for.
I can't begin to describe what moving here has been like. A turning inside out? A coming home? A challenge I both fear and desire. It is one thing to train most of your adult life to do a thing. It is another to know you will be able to do it for as long as you still love doing it. It is a very good feeling.
Let us see. After Meelzebub and the Leiflet left (one of the inexpressible joys), the boy arrived, I caught cold (sigh), and school began... all in pretty short order. At the end of the first week of classes, we held auditions, and this week, started rehearsals for R&J, or which I am SM. Heh. Madness, thy name is....
Classes are good, if off to a rocky start. I am still adjusting to the students, figuring out what they know, and talking too much in the process. I have stuff to teach them, but I also need to learn what they know and how they have learned to see things. I'm still reeling a bit (a lot?) from all this change, so my timing isn't perfect and I'm having trouble slowing down and listening to them. I need to give them time to talk or they will start to believ that it's all about my opinion. It's not. I give them the tools, but they create the thoughts with them. I need to start seeing that happen. I've started to take in freewriting from the drama class, and they are... inspired, if sometimes rough. I'm eager to see the first years' work, though I can't afford to read it all. More's the shame. I feel that I have to move quickly, and I fear I will leave some behind. I hope I can win them over and watch them take ownership of their own ideas.
The play is... glorious. And a good opportunity. I am meeting people, learning the theatre on my feet. I'm surprised to find a streak of stubborness in me when I'm SM, and I struggle to remain supportive while my practical voice wants to root for the simpler, cleaner, safer options. A strange mix of perspectives is the SMs. I am very glad to have recruited ASMs to take some of the need for attentiveness on. A good help to be able to assign others to watch for safety hazards and keep the actors focused and occupied.
Still working on the article. I won't finish in time (and there's a couple other things past due now, which I have to focus on not lamenting), but I am doing the work and moving forward. The idea is sound; it needs the support of research, though not too much.
But days like today, I still push it all aside and celebrate plums and creative energy, love and community. In a week, we'll be at a writers' festival in Baddeck; in two weeks we start a new D&D game. I love where I live. I love what I do. I love the people I get to do it with. These are the gifts we live for.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Thrive
Think about the number of people on who your everyday life depends.
We all have a purpose. It's to help other human beings thrive.
We all have a purpose. It's to help other human beings thrive.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Transplanted
There have been more lessons in the last month and a half than I can fully recount. It has been a year of learning. Who would have thought all this would happen, a year ago, when I was still touring the show, with no real understanding of the year that awaited me, no expectation of where it would lead. In CB. With the job of my dreams. And a house. That is perfect. I keep waiting for the glamour to wear off, but I think I’m going to love it regardless.
When I left you last, I was nine again and contemplating flight while looking out over Lancaster. Oh my... yes, a lot of lessons. Getting set up in England was challenging, but dismantling was... much more difficult. That would be the impact of having a firm deadline. To make matters more... interesting, I chose to move out three days early and go to a conference and then a friend’s house, leaving myself truly rootless. When I got to Canada, I did the same again, staying with (new!) friends in Halifax before going to Sydney, where I stayed with other (new!) friends for four days until I actually had a bed to sleep on. Lesson: people deeply connected to a sense of home don’t react well to transplanting, and the process should be carried out quickly and smoothly.
I can’t really regret experiencing that lesson, though, because it took me to Swansea, where I met lots of great people; to Oxford, where I got to spend two days with a close friend; and Halifax, where I got to swim in a lake (a lake! It was warm!), meet a lovely group of medievalists, make new friends, and explore downtown Halifax. Here in CB, it meant getting to know two incredible people who pretty much held me together while I set about re planting my roots.
I was sorry to leave England. I made good friends there and I learned a lot. But I was happy to come home, to Canada. I’d never felt any serious patriotism before, but there was something in me that recognized being home. It’s in the body language, the eye contact, the expressiveness. As innumerable others have done, I had to go away to recognize that I really am Canadian. I kinda like that lesson.
I bought furniture. Sure, I’ve also bought a house, but that was all conducted on paper. There’s something about going to a store, making a selection, and paying a huge sum of money for it that seems antipathetic to me. The only serious furniture I have ever purchased was my previous bedroom set, which my mother in law paid for. To buy furniture, new furniture... has been an interesting intellectual and emotional challenge. I am definitely more comfortable buying things used, though it is easier to buy new. It’s a compromise I am learning to balance.
Here’s another thing I learned: I’ve been struggling with writer’s block. Mostly due, I suspect, to fatigue, but I also learned (remembered?) that instead of struggling to write what doesn’t interest me, or that I think I have to write, I can let myself write what I want to write, what excites me to write, and it will also be worthwhile. That what was behind the post on the other blog. There were so many things I thought I ought to say. The post was what I wanted to say. End of writer’s block. I can’t wait to clear some tasks off my plate and start in on the Rome project.
So. I’m here. I’m living in my own house (our own house!). I have some curtains, some furniture, some household items, some food. In other words, there’s still a lot to do – lots of little lessons, like how to bike to the grocery store and where to eat when it’s too hot to cook – but I’m able to go to work each day and really work, and so to come home each night and immerse myself in the process of building a home. It’ll take me a while to really catch my breath, and I don’t think I’ll feel completely at home until the boy arrives, but it appears the transplant was a success.
Excuse me while I go soak up the sun and the rain and grow a little more.
When I left you last, I was nine again and contemplating flight while looking out over Lancaster. Oh my... yes, a lot of lessons. Getting set up in England was challenging, but dismantling was... much more difficult. That would be the impact of having a firm deadline. To make matters more... interesting, I chose to move out three days early and go to a conference and then a friend’s house, leaving myself truly rootless. When I got to Canada, I did the same again, staying with (new!) friends in Halifax before going to Sydney, where I stayed with other (new!) friends for four days until I actually had a bed to sleep on. Lesson: people deeply connected to a sense of home don’t react well to transplanting, and the process should be carried out quickly and smoothly.
I can’t really regret experiencing that lesson, though, because it took me to Swansea, where I met lots of great people; to Oxford, where I got to spend two days with a close friend; and Halifax, where I got to swim in a lake (a lake! It was warm!), meet a lovely group of medievalists, make new friends, and explore downtown Halifax. Here in CB, it meant getting to know two incredible people who pretty much held me together while I set about re planting my roots.
I was sorry to leave England. I made good friends there and I learned a lot. But I was happy to come home, to Canada. I’d never felt any serious patriotism before, but there was something in me that recognized being home. It’s in the body language, the eye contact, the expressiveness. As innumerable others have done, I had to go away to recognize that I really am Canadian. I kinda like that lesson.
I bought furniture. Sure, I’ve also bought a house, but that was all conducted on paper. There’s something about going to a store, making a selection, and paying a huge sum of money for it that seems antipathetic to me. The only serious furniture I have ever purchased was my previous bedroom set, which my mother in law paid for. To buy furniture, new furniture... has been an interesting intellectual and emotional challenge. I am definitely more comfortable buying things used, though it is easier to buy new. It’s a compromise I am learning to balance.
Here’s another thing I learned: I’ve been struggling with writer’s block. Mostly due, I suspect, to fatigue, but I also learned (remembered?) that instead of struggling to write what doesn’t interest me, or that I think I have to write, I can let myself write what I want to write, what excites me to write, and it will also be worthwhile. That what was behind the post on the other blog. There were so many things I thought I ought to say. The post was what I wanted to say. End of writer’s block. I can’t wait to clear some tasks off my plate and start in on the Rome project.
So. I’m here. I’m living in my own house (our own house!). I have some curtains, some furniture, some household items, some food. In other words, there’s still a lot to do – lots of little lessons, like how to bike to the grocery store and where to eat when it’s too hot to cook – but I’m able to go to work each day and really work, and so to come home each night and immerse myself in the process of building a home. It’ll take me a while to really catch my breath, and I don’t think I’ll feel completely at home until the boy arrives, but it appears the transplant was a success.
Excuse me while I go soak up the sun and the rain and grow a little more.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
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