Light Your Matches

Let's just say Thanksgiving is an aptly named holiday.

I got to leave the beautiful (read: deadening) city of Muncie and head to Greenwood to see my significant other, enjoy two Thanksgiving gatherings, spend time with my family, shop, and watch Netflix. (Which, let's face it, is the new gateway drug.)

A week ago, I found myself asking the question, "Why am I doing this?" I felt behind in my classes, I felt disorganized in my writing, and I felt like my tutoring sessions were sub par. Also, many of my students scored below 50% on their JOURNAL ASSIGNMENTS! The assignments that were supposed to bolster their final papers for my unit, they put no effort into the whole time. So, clearly, I felt I wasn't a good teacher on top of everything else. I felt uninspired and disenchanted.

Thanksgiving was a godsend.

It refueled me just enough to get through my essay on Virginia Woolf and the everyday and return to a class full of students who didn't seem to care. I was inching toward the finishline at a slow, but steady pace. But I still found myself asking, "Why am I doing this?"

Last night reminded me.

I presented my paper on mental illness in Mrs. Dalloway. Ironically, the topic was about how the everyday can exacerbate or alleviate mental illness side effects. As I read my research, I saw my effort and energy paying off in dividends. Undergraduate students were there to listen for extra credit, and I was so excited to be a part of this exchanged of ideas, I was only half annoyed that one texted under her desk the whole time.

When I got home, I set to work on adding to my Victorian lit paper about Alice in Wonderland. I was tired, but I pushed through and before I knew it, I looked to see that it was 2:00 am. I didn't even notice, because I was too excited about Foucault and normed bodies and social policing in Alice. 

I woke up this morning ready to conquer. I knew I couldn't make my students value their education like I do (In fact, during a tutorial today, a student was arguing that it's stupid that she has to take an English class when she is a physical therapy major. *smh*), but I can model for my students my value of education. I can't be certain that my tutorial efforts are forming better writers, but I can put all my efforts into making that happen. And I can't solve my personal unrest and disenchantment with a simple answer, but I can remember to take stock of the positives in my life and celebrate the sparks of inspiration when they come.

So, Why am I doing this?

Well...

Because I CAN do this! And so can you.

Identity Crisis: An Inventory

As my time as a mentee comes to a close, I have been thinking a lot about my teaching philosophy. I believe my style and values will adapt and change over time, but I appreciate having a baseline.

So I start with what I know I am:

1. Funny: Though it usually takes some time for people to understand my dry, sarcastic sense of humor, I find it one of my most invaluable qualities

2. Organized: I create lesson plans and prepare for class ahead of schedule when teaching. Students will always know my expectations for class and assignments.

3. Creative: I enjoy putting thought into lessons to make them interactive, fun, and memorable. My interest in art, music, theatre, etc. plays directly into my teaching plans and style.

Then I move to what I know I am not...yet:

1. Professionally Communal: Yes, technically I am a coworker/colleague, but I struggle immensely with this identity component for professionalism. Part of the reason is because I am a rather open person. I hate the way people tiptoe around things, rather than address problems. Also, bureaucratic nonsense makes my head spin--but what's worse is how people all claim to hate it, yet do nothing about it. All in all, my biggest struggle in life is just dealing with people!

2. Experienced: I have been a partial teacher for exactly 13 weeks. I have been a student for 18 years and a tutor/instructor to writer for 5 years, but my classroom game is weak. Luckily, to quote Lewis, "Experience, that most brutal of teachers, but you learn, my God, do you learn."

Additional Struggles:

1. Recurrent Severe Major Depression- It's a bitch.
2. Career Path Uncertainty-Where am I going? And why???
3. Mixed Identities as teacher/student/tutor/human-When to be who where and for how long....(confusing, right?)

Now that I've crafted a sketch of what could be seen as the crazy cat lady librarian (Meow), I'd like to sum this up with a nice examination of conscience (as we former Catholics remember).
My identity will change over time. I hope to continue to add to my positive qualities, as well as work on my shortcomings. With time, maybe I will be able to accept the nonsense of other people by relaxing my contrarian, existential attitude. With time, I will gain experience and understand my life's purpose. With time, I will become the teacher I always wanted. As Fernanda Miramontes-Landeros said, "Give thanks for what you are now, and keep fighting for what you want to be tomorrow."

Take a Look--It's in a Book

I often say I am the English major who doesn't have time to read. I know I am not the only person to ever notice how when you study a field you love, you stop having time to enjoy it for a while. I know I loved reading as a kid and watching The Reading Rainbow and Wishbone on TV all the time. I felt excited by the adventures and problem/solution motifs of the books on those shows. I had to read in school and I participated in summer reading programs for the library, but then I grew up. And if I hadn't have been an English major in college, I don't know that I would still be able to appreciate the rainbow anymore.

bell hooks writes about the "Joy of Reading" in Chapter 22 of Teaching Critical Thinking. She states, "Teachers in every educational setting are the individuals who bear the greatest ethical and political responsibility for promoting the power of reading" (132). My question for this program is: How can I promote the power of reading when literature is not a requirement (or even allowed for GAs) in the 100 level ENG courses?

My mentor and I have talked about this a great deal, as she is a writer by trade and wrote for a living before teaching, and I am an MA literature student and writer. She got special permission to use Devil in the White City for here ENG 104 course next semester, which means reading will get a much needed jump start in the college classroom. But what about us first-timers?

Well, I am currently working on my ENG 104 syllabus and finding a way to frame the semester. I work best when there is a frame and direct application of theory/rules/etc. to the outside world. Therefore, I am developing assignments and readings around Alice in Wonderland. I am working on one assignment now that looks at a specific character from wonderland in order to examine a cultural problem (i.e. the Mad Hatter and mental illness). Hopefully, my students will not only be interested in their research, but also in the ways that literature connects to real life.

I think bell hooks is absolutely correct in asserting that teachers have a responsibility to promote reading, and there are ways to do it. The question is why did institutions stop valuing the beauty of the reading rainbow?

Can't Please 'Em All

Chapter 9 raises some worthwhile points about observation and assessment. Throughout the comp tales, we see observation in the form of experienced professionals to new teachers, teachers to students, colleagues to teachers, and teachers to self. Each of these create a problem of hierarchy and intimidation in the academic sphere.

My first evaluation as a teacher this semester went very well. I received almost entirely positive feedback and felt that my teaching was "up to code." Since receiving the first drafts of papers for the unit I taught, I have come to realize the ugly truth behind evaluations, observations, etc. of teachers. Though I believe I taught a good unit filled with creative lessons (i.e. dirt pudding), my students' papers have been...sub-par...to say the least. I got positive feedback from my mentor, observer, and fellow GAs, but the proof, as they say, was not in the pudding as far as the papers were concerned.

Someone recently told me that course evaluations are to make better teachers. If I had been in a laughing mood, I would have been on the floor. Perhaps this is the more cynical side of me coming out, but these evaluations and observations seem to be nothing more than vestigial organs from a primordial era of teaching when everyone did it the same way. Now, everything is subjective from the efficacy of a teacher's style to the involvement of the students. I understand there are many factors at play here, but the argument stands to reason that observations don't really prove much.

Perhaps I'm just bogged down by the fact that judgment is modernity's answer to a call for a capitalist aesthetic in everything from education to movies. I'm tired of telling people what they need to improve on and how to change. And I'm tired of being told those things, as well. Yes, there's always room for improvement, but my measure of that should come from me--not from some subjective outsource. I guess I will just take my grandma's advice and "thank them for their time and move on about my day. You can't please 'em all, and you shouldn't have to."

Graduate Assistants: They're Just Like Us!

Recently, I've noticed several absences in my mentor's class. And the students who do attend class complain about being tired and how much work they have to do and how busy they are all the time.
I listen and give them advice on balancing their schedules better, but I have come to realize most of the time they just want to complain. They don't want help or advice. They want someone to rub their tummies and tell them they work so hard and it's okay if they don't have things done or if they don't show up for an entire week.

I know I am beginning to sound rant-y, but these issues have really got me thinking of some bigger things. Namely, I have been thinking about how these students don't even see how their professors and other people also have lives and struggles and busy schedules. I am taking classes, writing 5 times longer papers, teaching, and tutoring among my personal life. And while I find myself frustrated sometimes that it takes so much effort to break through their self-interested mindsets to show them "Grad students (and other people) are just like us!" I also find myself understanding this struggle.

It's easy to get caught up in our own lives and not appreciate the lives and struggles of others. It's easy to be so busy that you forget that there is a very real world going on outside of our worry and our doubt and our work. I guess I am reaching this strange phase of existential crisis where I am wondering why in the hell I am going through this whole school thing for many many more years BY CHOICE. In doing so, I am pretty much guaranteeing that I will always be behind on reading, spend way too long creating lesson plans, not have time to email my grandma, and develop ulcers from worrying about how broke I am.

I remember thinking I had those problems as an undergrad, but in hindsight, they were really much smaller. Being behind on reading meant a chapter or two, not an entire novel. Worrying about money meant skipping seeing a movie with friends, not being late on a rent payment. As I grow, it always seems the worries that seemed so rational and huge at one time are easily replaced by much more difficult problems. And that type of endless cycle makes a person wonder why we do it.

The logical side of my brain went to grad school because she didn't know what else to do instead and knows that a MA degree means more than a BA. She chose English because that's what she is best at and doesn't mind spending time on. The romantic, naive side of my brain became a graduate student because he (yes, my romantic brain side is male) loves to learn and to teach. Nothing makes him happier than explaining how to create an essay or rewording something to make it sound amazing. And I listen to the romantic, naive side, because if I didn't, the world would have no color, no spark, no life.

My mentor recently asked our class: Are you a college student yet? Many of them didn't follow the abstract question until she explained it further. She meant: Have you become active participants in your learning? Do you understand how to balance the new-found freedom and hold yourself personally accountable? Have you grown up?

And I find myself asking the same question: Am I a graduate student yet?

Hell Cycles

Comp Tales 98 and 100 offer an interesting look into confidentialty within the classroom. We have discussed--briefly--in 601 how to spot troubling writing and ways to handle the situation, but I felt for the professor in Tale 98. She technically did the right thing, but never getting to know what happened to that student caused her so much grief. I think she handled it well on her end, but the administration could've done a much better job handling the psychology aftereffects for her. While 98 does not offer a common experience necessarily, protocols for responding to troubling writing and efforts to debrief teachers are important issues.

Comp Tale 100 gives us a much more common scenario with a parent criticizing a professor for his daughter's failing grade. My mentor and I just talked about this issue when I interviewed her. I saw this cartoon by Daryl Cagle in a newspaper once, and it has stayed with me. It captures the changes ideologies and pressures put on educators to appease parents and students, not evaluate effectively.

I believe there are these cycles of pressure inside and outside the school. Internally, the government pressures the school for standards. The school pressure the teacher to perform. The teacher pressures the student to learn. And student scores influence the very government standards that started this whole messy cycle.

Externally, you have the economy pressuring the parents. The parents pressure the child to ensure he/she makes it to a good school. The cost of the good school pressures students. And the number of students in debt after college influences, again, the very system that created the problems.

I don't have an answer. I don't have the end-all-be-all solution to these multi-faceted hell cycles. What I do have is experience. Like many of you, I have experience at many different spots in the cycles. And I think that my advantage in dealing with the cycles is from understanding the point of view of the people at the other stages. That's my best advice: Consider the people to your right and to your left, where they came from and where they plan to go. Maybe then we can stop yelling at each other long enough to hear.

But today he smiled...

As an educator, there is nothing I want more than my "Oh, Captain, my Captain!" moment. I want to be the professor who opens my students' eyes to a whole new realm of understanding and possibility. I want students on desks, chanting support.

Now, I realize that will probably never happen. Students are way too interested in being cool to stand on a desk or recite Whitman's poetry. However, my experience with one student is just as great as the ones in "Dead Poet's Society." Let's call him Joe. 

From the first paper, it was clear that Joe struggled with the mechanics of writing, as well as organizing his thoughts. It was one of those unfortunate cases that emphasizes the failings of our education system. Students slip through without proper skill acquisition. 

When the first paper was returned, Joe was devastated by the D+ tattooed on his paper. In that moment, Joe had a choice: He could get mad, or he could get to work. 

For the next paper, Joe made three appointments with the Writing Center and met with me outside of class. He took more notes during lecture and asked questions after class. He maintained a serious disposition, focused. During our meetings, Joe and I practiced outlining and then worked on creating the introductory paragraph and transitions. He came back the next session with two more pages written and a sense of urgency to capture the rest of the ideas. 

The paper wasn't perfect, but he had acquired skills for outlining, transitions, and citations. His effort earned him a C for the paper. With revision, he even amped that up to a B. 

Happy with his improvement, but leery of the argumentative essay to come, Joe began to sit in the front of the room and brought his computer everyday to take notes and do research when a thought came to him. He continued to meet with me over the course of the assignment.

During our first meeting for assignment 3, he showed up with an outline, six credible, highlighted sources (even though the assignment only required 3), and an introductory paragraph. Needless to say, he had been doing his homework. We got to work crafting a more elaborate outline and discussing his concerns for organizing his argument. He left with a tangible goal in mind and set up another meeting. The final meeting was also fruitful, and he left with enthusiasm to finish the assignment.

Here we come back to the beginning of my tale. 

Joe walked into class today with an energy in his step. He walked right up to me and said, "I got that essay to 7 pages before I was done!" (The assignment only required 4 pages.) The pride resonated from his statement. This was his "barbaric yawp." He asked when he'd get it back to work on the revision. His normally fierce disposition was exchanged for excitement. He even answered questions during class about the challenges of the argumentative essay. And I smiled to myself, thinking of his progress.

Joe even smiled and laughed. He had been intimidated and stressed by ENG 103. But today, he smiled...

Chapter 7 in Comp Tales addresses a pretty universal problem: public perception. No matter what you do or where you are, how the public sees you versus your true self are often at odds. I think the wide range of comp tale examples reveals that it is an interdisciplinary problem, as well as intradisciplinary and public issue. 

I read a comp tale like 89 about teaching people the importance of eradicating sexist language and think, "Yea, gosh, that's so freakin' annoying how people don't understand why writing 'humankind' is more inclusive than 'mankind'!" In that instance, I feel the frustration of being someone who is obviously thinking more deeply about language that others.

However, there are also examples like 79 that reveal an ignorance on my end. I know I have critiqued work from other disciplines for things like style and voice without considering the specific criteria for that filed of study. 

Probably the worst problem of public perception is with the public. Educators sacrifice a great deal to teach the future generations and share their skills with the world. But so do many other ambitions and occupations. It becomes harder and harder to do that when people either don't understand or don't care about something you are passionate about. The cycle of underappreciation perpetuates because, as comp tale 85 reveals, we don't do a good enough job of explaining what we do to others. Along with that though, we don't do a good enough job listening to what others do either. 

In truth, we are all human beings, shouting into a void: I MATTER! APPRECIATE ME! And as much as we ask that of other people, we need to fulfill that desire of others. The more we validate the efforts and value of other fields, occupations, lifestyles, etc., the more we ourselves are validated. And we can stop screaming "I MATTER" and start saying, "WE MATTER."

The Most Interesting Meme in the World

I am teaching my class about logical fallacies this week. I created a journal assignment for them involving memes. They are to create three different memes using, explaining, or debunking a logical fallacy. I am having them email me their best of the three today and putting them into a slide show. I think this will be an interesting way to help them understand logical fallacies. The cool thing is that my mentor and I both love the use of memes and think they have a lot of potential for many applications in the classroom.

I created an example using the slippery slope fallacy and the Most Interesting Man meme.

I ended up finding an awesome Jeopardy online about logical fallacies, too. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time this unit to use it. So I will hold onto it for the 104 courses next semester.  It's amazing what you can come up with to teach a lesson when you use resources!

Which Came First: The Paper or the Think?

It donned on me recently that I have been discussing all the papers one writes in college with my ENG 103 students, but I hadn't actually written one yet this semester for my courses. Of course, the format and expectation for graduate level work is often in the form of discussion posts and presentations, so the absence of "official" paper writing is not to say that no work is being done. That's when I realized the very thing that makes paper-writing so elusive lives in the assertion that a paper is the "official" totem of knowledge. 

This being midterms week, I did turn in what I would consider my first "official" paper of graduate school. Because there is such an emphasis on the paper, I felt more proud of those 6.5 pages than I did of any contribution so far in the course. I think that's the other problem with deifying the Paper. Surely my participation, discussion posts, and readings accounted for far more than a 1,643 word essay. But in my mind, I couldn't escape that feeling that I had finally accomplished something.

The essay has the long standing tradition of exercising content and (ideally) reveals active, critical thinking. However, no assurance exists to prove that an assignment will even be taken seriously by a student, so making it the highest regarded mode of assessment/expectation seems a bit foolish.

While new methods and project ideas are produced constantly, the Paper will always wear the crown. And there are some logical reasons for that, but I'm wondering if taking the Paper of its pedestal could better engage students and make that incessant blinking cursor less of a villain.

 Related to our discussion on multi-modality, I found myself thinking of the various ways to present and assess knowledge. The question I pose to the greater community is: What strategies do you employ to bring paper-writing down to a more approachable level? and How do you equivocate other methods of measuring student achievement, understanding, and engagement? Perhaps we must get back to our roots: Dr. Seuss. "Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!"

Soul Cancer

I pushed down on the right side of the double-door. I did not see the PULL sign for the tears welling in my eyes. The cheap blinds rattled in disturbance as I stumbled into the office. A woman stood patiently waiting for me. The nurse must have already called her for my ‘emergency session.’ 


The anxiety attacks had become more frequent, the depression worse.


The room seemed too tall—the ceiling miles away from the area rug that would hold my gaze for countless hours throughout my senior year of college. Dr. M sat in an over-stuffed blue chair in front of a bookshelf and a door that never opened. I sat on a small sofa at an angle from her and studied the seemingly useless bookshelves.


Only one had actual books on it.


A lot of things in that office didn’t seem to live up to their potential. Mismatched doorknobs. Empty shelves. Empty folders. And me—an empty person.


While my tears ceased momentarily, Dr. M said, “So tell me what’s going on with you.” And the floodgates opened into a fast-paced description of what came to be diagnosed as recurrent major severe depression. Depression is the heavy feeling in my brain. Depression is wanting to live the rest of my life in ratty old sweats. Depression is a super villain leveling New York City every day. Depression is soul cancer. I was a shaken soda mercilessly kept closed—unable to release the intensity within.


I don't know where or when or how this started. Dr. M always described it as both a chemical and emotional combo. We tried dialectic behavior therapy, talk therapy, writing, anything to keep me from my former personal "therapy" involving a sharp blade and an exposed leg. One of the worst things about it was knowing I was becoming the type of student I didn't want to be during my final year of undergrad. I had to ask for extensions and wasn't as prepared for class. And even though my professors held me in high esteem and granted those extensions and offered to help, I still felt like the student letting them down.


Perhaps this is why Comp Tale 67 struck a chord with me.


The student from the tale finally feels inspired only to fall to the wayside because of a "hazard." I understand the student side of hazards, because I live that side. I am still learning the ropes on the hazards for teachers. Though this Comp Tale did not have a humorous ending or even a positive one, its message feels the most important.


First, Students are People, too. Radical, I know. Still, it's worth remembering that having rules and standards for a classroom is good, but they may need to be re-calibrated depending on a situation. If I hadn't have received extensions on my papers Senior year, I would've still graduated, but I would not have done so with as many accomplishments or as much personal pride.


Second, Teachers are People, too. Again, crazy I know. The professor in 67 seems somber at the end that the student dropped out of school, and I can understand why. However, I think one of the most challenging and necessary parts of teaching will be accepting the things you can't control. The professor definitely fulfilled his duties and inspired this student, but that doesn't ensure "hazards" won't happen. My teachers could not change my diagnosis no matter how much they wanted to, but they did have the power to help me fight through it, which is exactly what they did.


I graduated summa cum laude in May 2014 with a BA in English, minors in Gender Studies and Theatre, and with Honors. I say this as an affirmation to both teachers and students. We are all people, and we can all support one another to success.



***Note: In one of my sessions, Dr. M played me this video about depression being a black dog (a term coined by Churchill). I am copying the link for anyone battling or curious about depression.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiCrniLQGYc

What's the Dirt?

 So last Friday in class I was teaching the components of an argumentative essay. The day before, I went over my lesson plans to decide the best way to explain how the thesis/argument, primary/preemptive research, secondary research, concessions and counter arguments worked together to create the essay. 

My dad is a youth minister and has been for over 10 years. In his presentations, he always tries to use a prop to help deliver the message. Taking a page from his book, I wanted to incorporate some kind of hands on experience, especially since most of my class seem to be more visual learners. With that decision made, I had to find the best method to use. Since I love baking, it only felt natural to turn to some kind of snack. After some brainstorming, I excitedly settled on Dirt Pudding. I built the lesson plan around dirt pudding, including a slide show that broke everything down into recipe steps. 

  •Pudding Mix= Argument--necessary, but weak on its own

•Milk= Primary Research--makes the argument stronger and more meaningful, but could be stronger

•Cool Whip= Secondary Research--Strengthens argument by incorporating other viewpoints, information, and statistics

•Cookie Crumbs= Concessions-- Acknowledges a point made by one’s opponent. It allows for different opinions and approaches toward an issue, indicating an understanding of what causes the actual debate or controversy. Promotes author’s credibility and proves author understands the context and arguments surrounding her/his claim. Means your base is so strong that adding concessions to the mix could only make it better.

•Gummy Worms= Opposing Arguments-- An argument opposed to your thesis, or part of your thesis. It expresses the view of a person who disagrees with your position. Some authors fear or avoid these “worms” because they can eat holes in an argument, but the best arguers use the worm as an accent and flavor for your essay. Adds credibility and proves relevance of an issue (if others are talking about it, whether they agree with you or not, the issue must be important)

I brought dirt pudding for them to enjoy while we discussed the lesson. They seemed to really grasp the importance of every part of an argumentative essay. 

Life is Messy

An embarrassing amount of dirty laundry waits expectantly on my floor, unable to rest peacefully in my hamper because the folded laundry from two weeks ago remains in that location. I pass the same empty Diet Coke bottle every morning, thinking to myself, "I really need to throw that away." The recycling bin in my front closet has been over filled for the past month, but I don't know where to take it and have started giving up on the environmentally conscious side of myself. Webster, though always adorable, needs a bath and haircut to prevent his de-evolution into the abominable snowman. I've had a pineapple in my fridge for 5 weeks. 

My point, other than to introduce my colleagues to a little bit of my personal life? 

Life is messy.

I wasn't under some false assumption that graduate school would somehow be less messy, but I had no way of knowing how much extra pressure exists when you are both teacher and student. I have really enjoyed my week of teaching so far, but I am definitely feeling the pressure of deadlines for my lesson plans, classes, and other interests. 

One of the biggest things I still need to learn is more about balancing my schedules and responsibilities so that I can handle teaching and learning and still have time to do my laundry, dishes, and maybe even relax. 

What do you guys do to organize, maintain, and accomplish all of your responsibilities?

whats Re-vision got to due wit it?

Chapter 5 does something very interesting in  using stories and examples from both traditional and non-traditional students' concerns/issues with the writing process. I found Tale 50 particularly useful in its somewhat humorous but honest story of a Swiss-German student who misunderstood the advice from an electronic grammar checker. I recently presented to Accounting 305 classes on argumentative writing for the writing center. One of the specific requests from the professor was to addressed "misused and misspelled words." I instantly knew what words she was referring to: the ones that spellcheck can't fix because they aren't technically wrong.

The other week in 601, we were asked to write down our values as a teacher. I typed three simple words: Freewriting, Revision, and Reflection. While these words are simple, they aren't implemented enough. Freewriting and pre-writing on a topic takes time and is an easy component to ignore. Yet making things like journal assignments and annotated bibliography stepping stones to a larger essay not only parses out the workload for students and teachers, but also deters plagiarism.

Revision is too often confused with editing. The student in Tale 55 is a prime example of how going through the motions of "revision" usually means auto-correcting things like missing words, run-ons, clarity, etc., because the writer understands what he means. Tale 58 is further proof that revision strategies, especially in the ESL situation given, are not made clear or emphasized in the classroom. These pre-writing and revision elements need to stop being sponsored almost solely by supplemental initiatives, such as writing and learning centers.

I believe one great way of gauging an individual student's concerns is through reflective writing. By assigning some kind of self-assessment, the teacher can not only understand how students' feel about their writing, but also make commentary on the things the students aren't noticing. Again, Tale 55 shows an example of how reflection in an earlier essay may have provided a window for the professor to step in and say, "Your concerns and evaluations are valid. Here is another thing to consider in your writing, namely word omission."

Lesson "Plans"

I don't remember my first day of school. I know at some point in time I was that scared little girl, walking into kindergarten. I probably donned pigtails and carried a Lisa Frank backpack. The years following kindergarten, my introduction to this thing called school, I only really remember the excitement of back-to-school shopping. My grandma says, "There's nothing better than the smell of a fresh box of crayons," and I tend to agree with her. While I don't remember the concrete details of my first day of each new school year as a student, I don't think I will ever forget my first day on the other side of the desks as a teacher.

My Unit for ENG 103 is on a Community Issues Argument. Over the past several weeks, I developed what I thought was a comprehensive, cohesive, and even fun lesson plan. Within the first ten minutes of my first day of teaching, in true Comp Tales fashion, I discovered the master design was going to vary greatly from the user experience.


My students had just turned in their second papers at the beginning of this 9 a.m. class, which meant a significant portion of them had been up late the night before writing said papers. The discussion component of my introductory lesson plan went out the window. They did not care about my intricately woven and detailed unit plan for this next essay. As I began explaining the assignment and moving into my topic of defining "community," their hands became incessant red lights on my road to instruction.

After about 6 students interrupted the overall agenda with a question about format or research or topic selection, I parked the car, so to speak, and went off book. I realized that they were not going to absorb any of my information until they purged their own concerns. We took the next ten minutes or so to discuss this paper as a whole. Though every one of the questions raised had a very specific point in one of my upcoming lessons, the students needed to both clarify things up front and test my credibility as their teacher for this unit. As we moved into the group project I had created about argumentative language, the engine revved and we were back on the road.

I reflected on this day-one detour while I revisited my lesson plan for Wednesday. Revision of my plan for the next class revolved around this "road map" image, and I understood and appreciated the students' desire and need for a deeper overview of where we are going before we get in the car. I actually laughed to myself as I remembered an evaluation from undergrad in which I critiqued the professor for mot offering more explicit objectives in the beginning. Ha! A few years later and I may as well have been critiquing myself. The first day of teaching and subsequent reflection definitely revealed a disconnect between theory and application, something I've always known but not experienced.

Though I don't completely recall being that little Lisa Frank enthusiast, I believe a bit of her shone through on Monday, September 29, 2014, as a slightly nervous first-year Masters student taught ENG 103 for the first time. The pigtails were gone, but the exciting promise of the trials and tribulations to come coursed stronger than ever through my veins.

No More Clouds

The practice of using new strategies and explaining things in multiple ways was central to this chapter. Comp Tale 45 meant the most to me in this chapter because it supported my thinking that sometimes teaching requires abstract methods. The author calls her practices of explaining prepositions via the "cloud method" a response to "pseudo-academic mumbo jumbo."

Sometimes I feel like my teaching style might be seen as less serious because I use different comparisons and humor, rather than highfalutin theory. Jennie did something brilliant in using a second grade method that she had learned to explain some of the revision process to her student. She didn't have to tell him it was a second grade lesson; she just had to find the best way of explaining something.

I get bogged down with the arguments and theories surrounded by pedagogy because in reality, there is not ONE right way to teach or explain something.  So often, professors and other educators feel they need to prove their intelligence by how much theory they use. In reality, the goal should be keeping the brains of their students cloud-free.

Hello My Name Is... Jenny from the Block

Don't be this guy...just be Jenny. :) 

If there is one sure fire way to get under Olivia Gehrich's skin, it is to wax poetic about how much more lucrative your major is than mine. The "Major" battles are common in undergraduate programs, because everyone is trying to prove that he/she works harder or is more useful than another department. Unfortunately, this hierarchical system does not end at the BA level.

As Comp Tale 23 points out, dissension and pettiness exist in MA and PhD programs, as well. The literature PhD caught grief from another literature professor about taking a job in the rhet/comp department. Not only is there criticism across the fields, but also within them.

Tale 24 shares another problem that credentials can create. The anonymous author discusses the 4Cs conference--which was held in Indianapolis last year, by the way! :)--and how the "Big Names" dominated an off topic discussion, yet the author was criticized for not being poignant right away.

Unfortunately, this pretentious behavior is something I have seen a lot during internships, conferences, and just in class.  It makes for very uncomfortable interactions and causes me a bit of paranoia. While I want to contribute to the discussion, I never want to seem like one of those narcissistic jerks I've worked with before. Basically, that self-indulgent behavior is bad all the way around.

This section on colleagues seems to get at a lot of the root problems that I have already experienced in some way along the line: pretentious people, being the person who doesn't know something in a crowd, and the hierarchy of departments and degrees. Maybe it's pride or competitive spirits or maybe people are just rude, but in any case, working with colleagues will not always be good or fruitful. There may not be a foolproof solution, but I just try to stay humble and admit when I don't know something, much like the Tale 17 story. You just have to hope the good experiences outnumber the bad and try to be the best version of yourself.

 J-Lo was on to something:
"Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got
I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block
Used to have a little, now I have a lot
No matter where I go, I know where I came from".

-O

Lesson Plans: Our Community Issue

Lesson Plans: Our Community Issue

Since we are beginning the discussion on lesson plans and creating a syllabus, I think my blog this week will be fitting. Like many of my colleagues, I am teaching the third unit of my ENG 103 course. Their assignment is an argumentative essay about a community issue. As the weeks have progressed, the students see me more and more as an authority in the classroom. Today, before class, a few students even asked me to look over their thesis statement drafts to help make them better. While this is a great sign, I am still nervous about taking on the lesson/unit as a whole.

My lesson plan consists of readings, journal prompts, and activities, but I am looking to add some new ideas, especially in-class activities that pertain to our unit. The areas I am in most need of some guidance are introducing what exactly a community is (basically a “why do you care about this issue” and “why should an outsider of that community care” sort of intro), sample essays, and methods of teaching logical fallacies.

I want to begin with "What is a community? What is an argument?" to help frame the unit as a specific kind of argumentative writing and discuss how argument differs from persuasion. Hopefully, in doing this, the students will be able to choose fitting topics. They have some topics that are banned, such as parking and dining campus services, and they can’t write about a large global issue, such as abortion. If anyone has an idea of how to introduce community or argument, let me know!

In putting together my lesson plan outline, I discovered our textbook doesn't offer any sample essays that fit our version of an argumentative paper. They are more large scale “save the whales” themes. I want to find alternate examples as to not confuse them that “save the whales” is the topic/style I’m looking for….because it is definitely not. I am searching for short essays (2-3) to assign about a community issue, such as putting in a stop sign in a neighborhood, that we can discuss in class. 

As far as the logical fallacies, I just did some research for my wiki page, so I feel a bit more confident teaching those. I have found some clips for logical fallacies, which I may use one during class along with a short quiz after to entice active listening. I am hoping maybe someone has some ideas for an activity or game that won't take too much class time or be too challenging to teach how to recognize and avoid/correct logical fallacies in arguments. 

-O

Humor: Life's Great Bandage, Ch. 2

Humor: Life's Great Bandage

We learn a lot of contradictory things as children. You can't talk to strangers, but you can dress in a costume once a year and ask politely for their candy. You can't say bad words, but you can sing the lyrics to horribly offense songs. And, one of the most pervasive, you can't lie, but you can tell someone a white lie to avoid hurting their feelings.

It's a wonder we ever make sense of our world at all. That being said, it is understood that white lies are told, usually to avoid confrontation. Dana Elder's comp tale in Chapter 2 is a terrific example of how although we avoid any and all confrontation like a plague, it is sometimes necessary to enact a positive change. In her example, the student's essay clearly had too many flaws to be considered meaningful writing. If she had followed her current lesson for the class about the compliment sandwich, that student would've suffered academically. This tale notes a few interesting phenomena at play.

First, it challenges the idea that every lesson a teacher attempts to put into action is infallible. Clearly in this example, the theory of the compliment sandwich did not follow through in the practice. Second, it notes that coddling a writer is doing nothing but creating a false sense of skill, which may mean he/she will not continue trying to improve. Elder could've found something to spin into a compliment, but the student's own assertion gave her the confidence to agree that his writing had no real praiseworthy merits and that lying to him would solve nothing. Finally, this experience highlights that sometimes (perhaps more often than not) a student knows where his/her work falls on the spectrum of writing skill. They are merely trying to receive effort credit for work that they know is garbage, but that maybe got them through high school. If Elder had praised this paper, she could've been simply playing into the games of undeserved academic entitlement.

I can relate to this tale in a couple of ways. One, as a tutor in Writing Centers the past three years, I have seen many papers along the spectrum of academic writing. Some were incredibly impressive, others moderately decent, and some horrifyingly broken. I am a firm believer that shame and harsh judgment are the quickest ways to shut down a writer, so I turn to humor. Humor is more useful than the compliment sandwich in that it is often times more sincere. I can ask a student, "Okay, so what are you trying to say here?" and follow it with, "Okay, that's good! But right now it seems generic." Body language plays a huge part in this. It has to say that while I am enthusiastic that they have something worthwhile to say, they have not gotten there yet.

I think Elder is right in saying one of the worst things a teacher can do is lie to a student. College is expensive and time-consuming. We at least owe it to the students to find and hone our personal strategies of creating better writers and thinkers, not just better papers. Because if there's one rule from growing up that wasn't contradictory it is: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

-O

"The Reset Button"

September 11, 2014

Walking to the first day of class as a TA was an odd feeling. I am in a liminal space in which I am not completely teacher, but not truly the student in a particular class. I need to get a parking pass. The more than a mile walk here was not horrible, but it was long and took a longer amount of time than anticipated. Once I am able to park on campus, my morning schedule should remain the same but be much less stressful, and I will be able to focus on preparing for the course and being early to class. I felt frazzled and behind today, which is not how I want to feel again. I figured I would be much more tired this morning. I went to bed around 11:00 pm, but my dog just moved in with me yesterday and is still struggling to adjust, so he kept me up last night. Hopefully this gets better and I am able to sleep, however, I actually feel quite awake now. Monday and Tuesday are my busiest days, which is good. I like that the week is frontloaded. 

Today in ENG 103, I went to get chalk for the professor, which made me realize the prep for class goes well beyond lesson plans and even at a large university, professors still have supply difficult and such. I appreciated how the professor went over the vital parts of the syllabus, specifically calling to mind that assignments and readings are due on the dates listed. I will need to keep in mind that my audience is full of freshmen for the future to tailor and anticipate their experiences in college so far and the things they may not understand yet. It may be useful to do some more personal reflection on how I felt as a freshman. I would adjust the first day content slightly in my classroom to define more of the “what is a writer prompt” and I think having memoir based daily journal questions would be a great idea. I would also utilize the “Authors Chair” identity. All in all, it was a great first session. I look forward to learning more from my professor and students in Wednesday’s class on introductions. 

This is the reflection I wrote after my first day in the ENG 103 course I am shadowing. I learned a lot within that first week and have continued to be challenged and encouraged by the students and the methods of the professor I shadow. Something I definitely learned in my first week was that balancing my life as a commuter graduate student on a large campus is much different from living on campus on a small campus as a well known and respected student. I have hit a "reset button" of some kind, starting me back at the beginning to rebuild my credibility inside and outside the classroom. 

Comp Tales 1

"Don't Judge a Book by its Cover"

The first tale of Comp Tales reminded me of the saying, "Don't judge a book by its cover." This old saying is around to remind people that what's on the outside is sometimes masking the real greatness of what's on the inside. Even though most people know this maxim, putting it into practice in abstract circumstances, such as human interaction, remains difficult.

The experience with the community college professor both attests to this saying and challenges it. Her initial judgment of J. Johnson revealed a static, rule-hardened professor exercising authority and protocol rather than humanity and dialogue. While the mandates of not missing a certain number of class hours are clearly in place for reasons of educational standards, community building in the classroom, and overall fairness, the professor experiences the side effects of these rigid rules that do not recognize the student as a person first and foremost.

Another important thing revealed in this story is that not only are "bad" students misjudged. "Good" students are also at risk of being labeled in such a way that certain expectations become unfairly attached. McCurry is described as a military-looking "antithesis" of the student who had been in jail. Here we can see the prejudices that exist within the classroom come to light. McCurry's clean cut look and polished shoes put him into a different class than his classmate, the large man with "scarred face and imposing tattoos." McCurry's appearance puts him in a different category than Johnson and a classroom hierarchy is born.

The most telling part of this tale is the professor's feeling that she failed J. Johnson by not allowing him the chance to share his story. This brings up two important things to consider. First, the guilt that is often times inherent in becoming responsible for the future of education. While it's true that each student must put in the effort to earn the grades and succeed, the pressure is also very much on the professor to perform. Second, the narrative style of writing is not taken seriously enough in the academy. When taught well, narrative can be a strong and even foundational mode of exposing students to college level writing. Narrative depends on the basic skills of all writing, such as detail, exposition, coherence, and efficiency. Unfortunately, it is often treated like the throw away, less serious paper of a course, even though in truth it is the backbone of writing.

This Comp Tale reveals problems with negotiating rules and human compassion, classroom prejudice, teachers' guilt, and dismissing the narrative as a useful genre. The saying is to not judge a book by its cover, but the real tragedy is not so much the judging as it is the act of dismissing.