Feeling more hopeful

I’ve just finished with my squirrely group of Engl 90 students, the ones who made me so depressed last week.

Last Wednesday's class almost made me cry with the “progressive story” assignment (the one designed to teach the skills of “unity” and “organization” by passing a paper around and having everyone add a sentence to a story). This class of 15 (3 women) made the characters commit crimes – assault, drugs, stealing, rape – visit prostitutes, get AIDS, flunk class, get drunk (many stories had this plot device), lie to teachers, “turn” gay, eat cockroaches, call the cops (many had this one, too), give lap dances, puke, walk into the wrong class and see an “attractive lady” (two stories took this turn), etc., etc., etc.

I was appalled. Here’s a sample:

“So after class one day, Student One would stalk and beat up Student Two for no reason better than the fact of her enjoying the class. Yet, the next day they were all run over by Student Three and his big truck. Student Three went to prison for vehicular manslaughter on three accounts. No one has ever seen him again, until he was found out in the prison yard wrapped around a big man named, Bubba. Student Three was wrapped around him like a fur coat. But, sadly that would be the last anyone had heard from Student Three. One thing is good, at least he provided Bubba with warmth.”

Some stories I couldn’t read to the class. Here’s an excerpt that stopped me in my tracks:

“Soon, the entertainment got out of hand. Their entertainment with poems soon turned into entertainment from strippers. Sooner or later their entertainment got boring, and they decided to do volunteering work. They gave their free time to the local whore house. They would clean out the girls, lube them up, and clean the ‘creative juices.’”

Students knew that these stories would be read in class, but each sentence was more-or-less anonymous after the story got back to the original writer. A little sleuthing reveals the writer of the sentences above – let’s just say that “Student Three” is the author of the terrible parallel structure that ends the preceding excerpt.

Today, however, in writing workshop four students read their new assignment, and three were very, very good. Feedback was encouraging and responsible, too. With accountability (we go around the circle after the “Featured Writer” has read, and everyone must offer some comment), the students –for the most part – pay attention to writerly things, imagining ways to make their classmates’ writing better. Students are kind to each other.

I need to keep organizing my writing classes into these writing workshop: smaller groups of 8-12 students show me more of what they're capable of and what they've learned. I like them SO much better.

I'm struggling

My Engl 90 classes flummox me: I don't quite know what to expect of the students, and I have a HUGE range of abilities in these classes. A couple of students seem not to have much command of the English language at ALL, yet they've both passed our Engl 80 course.

A couple of other students seem to have no command of their giggles, and they constantly nudge and bump each other, wiggly as puppies.

A couple of other students smell -- really.

A couple of other students walk in and out of class, impatient with repetition and classmates who need the assignment explained twice and thrice.

A couple of students shouldn't be in this class because they're already fluent writers, thoughtful thinkers, bad test takers (evidently, since "the test" is what put them in Engl 90).

A couple of students have revealed their pasts in essays that haunt me: abuse, pain, terror, deprivation. How do I grade these stories?

A couple of students can't read. Or at least when their eyes go over each word, they recognize the words but can't figure out how to put them together into a thought.

A couple of students need to visit me in my office for clarification instead of listening to assignments and advice in class.

A couple of students are embarrassed to be in this class, but eager at the same time to get "good grades" and "move on" to another college-level course.

A couple of students go missing every class period.

A couple of students haven't turned in a damn thing all semester.

I am so lucky. Really. To be working with these people who are willing (for the most part) and engaged with the difficult task of learning to say what they think on paper (and to think of something to say on paper).

I'm struggling, and I'm so privileged to be doing so. How awesome is that -- to be taught by my students.

High Percentages

This semester, I seem to have more students producing "excellence" than I remember in any other semester. Am I just seeing differently since I've returned from sabbatical?

For example, some of my online tech writers have produced Instructions that are of almost-professional quality: our college's IT folks could learn a thing or two from these students.

And another example: The narrative arguments (first graded assignment) from One Section of my FYComp students have charmed me: as I read, I kept thinking, "We have to collect these in a book! These folks have great stories to tell!"

I read about a fellow who ended up working in a florist shop while out of jail on work release: now he's a horticulture major at our college. Another woman wrestled with giving up coffee for her health, and now she's seeing more results than she anticipated. Another student vividly described a car trip back from the cabin, ramping up the emotional pitch toward the car flipping in front of her. A young father celebrated his 2-year-old son; an older father celebrated his 19-year-old son.

One Section pays attention, does their homework, listens, offers thoughtful feedback to each other during workshop, asks serious questions. That behavior is reflected in their good writing.

However:

The "other" section, not so much. But the "other" section is full of high school students (current and very very recent) who stare blankly at me a lot, text message during class, don't do their homework, don't listen, complain. A high percentage of their narrative arguments aren't: a weirdly large number of them contain research and (wrong) in-text citations, talk about social issues (obesity epidemics, drinking age, pet neutering) which could've been linked to a personal narrative but weren't at all.

What conclusion would you draw from the "other" section's first assignments? That they'd been written for another purpose in another setting? That seems reasonable, huh? I've had that conversation with a couple of the worst offenders, writers of essays that are so-far-off the mark. One of those students has already gone to the dean, saying I "accused" her/him of "cheating." Oy.

Especially "oy" since I was really careful to say that I was coming to this conclusion based on what s/he produced: I couldn't come up with any other reasonable explanation since we'd spent a couple of weeks in class 1) looking at example narrative arguments, 2) talking about the chapter that explains what they are, 3) brainstorming and drafting in class. I said that I was alerting her/him early in the semester because I wanted to keep the lines of communication open. S/he thanked me after we talked, then apparently went right down to the dean.

The dean thinks maybe a learning disability? I think it's an veracity disability.

A Clean Desk

There's really something to be said about leaving the office for the weekend with a cleaned desk. I have never, ever managed to do so before. But for some reason this year, I've done it twice now. Feels very satisfying.

I finished grading the first batch of assignments from my online tech writers: for the first time *ever* in my teaching career, a student earned a perfect score for her first assignment. Stupendous. I also had a bunch that earned 90% of the points -- also great. Only three of 23 who failed (one with a zero, even though he turned the assignment in!), so this semester is feeling pretty good. So far. :-)

My Comp 1 classes are very different from each other, despite the fact that they're both afternoon classes and both have full enrollment: the MW class is full of high school kids who text during class, fool around with each other becuase they know each other. I have to be a mom in that class, which I hate.

The TTh class has working adults, older and more disciplined, who do their work diligently and with humor. It's a fun group -- more diverse, too: a fellow from Palestine who already has a BA, a couple of Somali students, four or five Hmong students, a woman from India or Pakistan, another from Laos. It's just so cool when Nirmala and Mustafa collaborate on a piece of writing, or Blia and Jehad. What a great country we live in.

It makes such a difference

I teach both required courses and elective courses. Last night was one of the electives, Intro to GLBT Studies. Students who take this course are actually interested in the topic unlike the students who take my other courses, Composition 1 or Tech Writing. Those students are compelled to take these because the courses are required for their degrees.

Last night, students engaged right away, had things to say, offered answers/solutions/insights to me and to *each other* in a way I infrequently get in my required courses. Last night students felt free to ask questions for which they *really* wanted to know answers:

For example, as we began our course with a discussion of vocabulary and definitions: "My husband's coworker used to be a man and had the surgery and now is a woman. Is she a transsexual or transgender?"

My answer (a paraphrase from memory): "You've brought up a really good issue that has to do with the meanings of words, categories, definitions. Things we think we all know -- like what 'woman' is or means -- aren't really so simple when we're talking about human beings who don't quite fit into our preconceived notions about a binary system. Some folks might call this person a transgender person because she's moved from the gender of 'man' to the gender of 'woman.' Some people might call her 'transsexual' because she's altered her body's sexual parts to be in line with 'woman.' But this person herself might not want either category or label; she might just want to be known as a 'woman,' plain and simple, because she's worked hard to achieve that status!"

I went on to talk more about the premises that undergird our understandings of words, concepts, ideas, and how these premises need to be revealed in order to understand what we're talking about. The mere fact that I brought up the word "premises" made two of my students think that their Logic course would be related to this GLBT course: how great is that! Students making connections across disciplines!

What a good night of conversation and learning with interesting, interested people.

A Bit of Bragging

I simply must post this email message I received last week from a colleague: makes my day -- no, my semester!

Julie
Just thought I'd pass along a positive comment from a student in your Lit 342 [American Literature] course. He's an Individualized BA student that I've had in PRSP 301 and PRSP 499 (and was my advisee). He's very technically focused and in the military. He was really lacking the "liberal arts" component of his BA and I encouraged him to take Lit 342 to expand his horizons.

He just emailed me to thank me for recommending this "great course with a great instructor." It's clear that you opened his mind to literature when he was very reluctant to expand his perspectives in that direction. It makes me happy to work with colleagues who are genuinely expanding our student's minds. I appreciate your efforts.

I love them

That's all I can say about this batch of students: I plain love them. Quintilian would approve: he says good teachers love their students.

Tonight was the last class meeting, turning in reading journals and final essays, having a discussion about what should be on the final exam (I keep telling them my philosophy about exams, that they're opportunities for them to show me what they know -- so I ask for their input about what they'd like to be asked), having a "wrap up" discussion.

The discussion went well, prompted by a listserv debate going on right now about the value of a literature survey course (the kind I teach): one fellow thinks they're a waste of time. I asked the students what they think, which is that a "buffet style" as I like to call it allows them the chance to find folks they really connect to and read further. Plus, as one student said, she now knows the answers to some Jeopardy questions!

This semester, I modified my "closing activity" so that it didn't involve matzo. Instead, we used tickets (everyone took 32, the number of students and me) and wrote their names on the backs. Then I asked them to go around the room and say something to every single person, something they remembered or noted or got from this person. Then exchange tickets. As my Somalian student said, "I didn't understand why we were doing this, then I got it: we're saying goodbye." Yep, and thanks.

Many students complimented each other in a way that was heartfelt, I think, and I got a chance to say something positive to everyone as we departed. Also, students commented positively on the class structure (and me, which was nice to hear). One said his parents were both English professors, and this course was one he learned the most in. Another thanked me for "keeping it light." Another said I was the best reader of his writing he'd ever had in college. Another said she *wanted* to come to class every week because of how it was run. Another claimed to have never thought English was "for me" but now wants to read a book a month.

And then some folks went to Gabe's for food and drink and more discussion of the course texts (Arthur Miller's "The Crucible" and Flannery O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find" and Joyce Carol Oates's "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been" all struck nerves). Josh came, too, our guest speaker who made a good impression on a sizable minority of students. The fellow who's off to Iraq in June bought an appetizer platter and wished us all well, hugs and handshakes all around.

What a good bunch.