Blogging is New

Many of my technical writing students -- mostly sophomores -- have never blogged, don't know what a blog is, are a bit leery of this thing called "blogging." We're using a blog, hosted by Blogger, to discuss "Technical Writing in the News," which they find out about by subscribing to Google Alerts (use "technical writing" as the Search Term and "News" as the Type).

This casual, audience-centered forum lets students try out some conversation about information we might be able to chat about if we were in a residential-campus setting: we'd perhaps read similar news items, looking for stories about technical writing, and then chat about them in the cafeteria, hallway, student lounge.

Since we're a commuter campus, I try to make the blog an online space for such chatter: you get a news alert that has "technical writing" in it -- perhaps a job post, a human-interest story, a "jobs going to India" story -- and then post what you think about it on the blog. Classmates can read the same alert and concur/disagree/expand. Students learn about audience, diction, technology, purpose: all technical writing concepts.

I like this assignment, and even though many students are completely new to blogging, they end up liking it, too.

High School Stars

Tonight, I helped out a pal of mine who teaches English at North High in Minneapolis: she set aside time for her AP students to come by -- in the evening! -- to get some specialized information to help them get prepared for their AP courses this fall. She asked me to talk about literary analysis in particular, so this afternoon I created a handout, not knowing if I'd be talking with 2 students or 20.

In fact, six young men showed up -- and one young woman about 30 minutes into the session -- who were eager, intelligent, highly energetic and accomplished athletes. They listened, asked and answered questions, offered interpretations that showed they'd had practice thinking of alternatives.

I was impressed with the truly beautiful combination of rowdy joshing with each other and respectful listening with me (and the other teachers present, who were all known to them).

Ideally, they'll all attend college and earn degrees, but the demographics do work against them: ethnicity, race, and socioeconomic class matter. Here's hoping that these seven engaged young people defy the odds.

MIA!

The Voki avatar I made the other day for my online course "welcome" message took me about 45 minutes to create. I wasn't familiar with the software, and then the uploading to the course management system took more steps than were obvious.

But now, that work has disappeared! As I'm double/triple-checking the course websites for the semester that starts tomorrow, I do NOT find the avatar! I don't see the facsimile of myself saying "Welcome to this class" in the voice of Kate. :-(

Dang! What happened!

*UPDATE!* The issue is Firefox. With Safari as my browser, I can see the avatars. Yea!
*DOUBLE UPDATE* But I can't edit the html in D2L when I use my MacBook. Boo!

Does she look like me?

Revving Up

The new semester begins in three weeks (just less than that, actually), and I'm wondering where my summer went! Of course, I was teaching (both a f2f and an online course), driving around the country on great road trips (Bemidji, Madison, Chicago, New York, Montreal -- not always in that order), and next week I'll fly to San Antonio for a visit.

But I'm beginning to pull together ideas for my fall classes, and I found this new multi-authored blog: Ecology of Education | Exploring the Ecosystems of Learning.

Although the site seems primarily addressed to K-12 educators (the most amazing and under-appreciated public servants in our country), I'm finding some great information there, too. Just the metaphor alone needs to be more widely understood: Ecology, indeed!

Check it out.

P.S. Here's one more resource: a delicious.com list of sites for classroom ideas from Active Learning Carnival. I found it via the MnSCU CTL blog (see at right).

On another note

I have been considering whether or not to post the YouTube video of a bunch of boys (some quite young) harrassing a man after Sunday's Pride festival. Now that MPR has written a news story about it, I'll pass it along.

If you check out the original YouTube video, you'll see that some of the commenters just turn their hatred on the Somali boys: as if two wrongs make a right.

And one comment confirms Suzanne Pharr's assertion that homophobia is a weapon of sexism: the comment reads "you have to feel sorry for the guy, but in the few times you see him speak, he's handling himself like a 14-year old girl." Clearly, acting like a 14-year-old girl is NOT a good thing. Right.

Wouldn't it be great if we lived in a world where acting like a 14-year-old girl was a COMPLIMENT? Something to aspire to? To admire?

No Dumb Questions

This weekend I "worked" (it was just as much fun as it was work) for the college at the Twin Cities Pride Festival. Although I was pretty frustrated on Thursday (schlepping boxes, a tent, a table drape -- all at three different locations on the campus, all involving parking in weird and even prohibited spaces, all while in a long skirt on a hot-and-humid day), by Sunday evening with the re-packing of my car I was happy and energized, reminded why I do this important work.

I probably talked with nearly a hundred people: some current students, some alums and former students, some really interested prospective students, a few faculty members, and many random interesting folks.

The stories I heard made me think about this good website, "No Dumb Questions," which provides video clips of LGBTQA folks -- stories we all need to hear. Here's a good example:

Woolf

Virginia Woolf's brilliance still shines out through the Hollywood hype that's become her life story: a testament to her genius. Although students wanted to know if I thought Woolf was bi-polar (why does it matter, I asked back), they also wanted to wrestle with her formidable imagination and intellect.

We talked about "A Room of One's Own" today, and despite the students' insistence on talking *way* too much about the title's significance (yeah, duh), the conversation did turn around to her important honoring of the legacy of women who wrote despite *not* having that room (Austen, Bronte, Bronte, Eliot, Cavendish, Behn).

Her work gets better every time I read it: at 20, I didn't understand much but knew I liked her non-fiction more than her fiction. Now I think Mrs. Dalloway is one of the most *true* novels I've read.

What a great opening line: "Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself."

Data!

I've just found out about a couple of pretty amazing websites:
"City-Data.com" -- type in your zip code to find out TONS of information about where you live
"Wolfram/Alpha" -- type in names, dates, equations, you name it

The web is becoming a space/place where we can find out almost any countable thing . . . which means we have to remind ourselves of a sign hanging in Alfred Einstein's office: “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts."

This sentence is reversed at a terrific website: Philanthropy Potluck, the blog of the Minnesota Council on Foundations.

MIA

This morning's class meeting held some surprises for me: the good one was the *excellent* activity our facilitators devised for discussing Jane Austen's "Love and Freindship" (a parody Austen wrote at age 15!). They had pairs of students write *response* letters to Laura, imagining what Marianne might write. Most of the young women students were *really accurate* in their Marianne voices: a pleasure.

The not-so-good surprise had to do with the presence of three students who haven't been to class in a l...o...n...g time:

• One had only attended the first day, May 26, and has missed the last five class meetings (out of 17 total meetings).
• One emailed me yesterday to say she'd had strep throat AND had just moved (ahem) to explain why she's missed the last three classes. I read and responded to that email yesterday afternoon.
• One emailed me last night at 1:00 a.m. to say she'd been in Chicago (her brother was injured and her parents, who are on vacation in France, asked her to go check on him) to explain why she's missed the last four classes. I read that email after class this morning.

Now I'm not quite sure what to do. I thought they'd all dropped! None of them has posted on the class discussion board. They don't seem to have read the attendance policy for our course, and when they asked about it, I couldn't remember the nitty-gritty details myself (I tweak my policies for every course, depending upon the time-frame and subject matter, but the overall idea is that I allow a certain number of absences for any reason before consequences kick in).

Evidently, my attendance policy this summer semester (for a six-week course that's supposed to be the equivalent of a sixteen-week semester) isn't clear -- here's what the syllabus says [emphasis in original]:

"You can earn up to ten (10) attendance points per face-to-face class period, which I determine based on your attendance and participation, for a total of 170 possible points. If you must miss a face-to-face class meeting, you can recoup some of those lost points by contributing a substantial discussion board posting within 24 hours for the class period you missed (by 8:00 a.m. on the day after the missed class). This posting can earn you up to five (5) points. Missing two class periods without posting to the discussion board will cause your final grade for the course to drop by one whole grade. Missing four or more classes without posting to the discussion board will result in an automatic F grade for the course. Missing four or more classes even with posting to the discussion board will cause your final grade for the course to drop one whole grade."

I suppose all that is confusing when you look at it in a big block of prose like that -- I should format the information in a box/chart/table or something. But the numbers seem pretty clear to me, and we note this paragraph on our first day of class when we review the course policies.

Also, I guess it's just fine for students to attend a course that they've already earned an F in . . . some learning can still take place (not that taking a class has anything to do with learning for most summer students -- ouch, I'm cynical!). But most of the students said they were taking this summer literature course because it "was cheaper" (two students are earning master's degrees at two of our local private colleges, and this 200-level community college literature course somehow fulfills requirements for them!).

Hmmm. Thoughts?

Frankenstein

Video clip of the 1994 Kenneth Branagh movie: much more faithful to Mary Shelley's novel than the Boris Karloff versions! Although the relationship between Robert and Victor isn't quite right, at least Robert Walton shows up -- as does the icy North Pole!

Really Great Workshop

I'd been nervous about giving a three-hour workshop on our college's Common Book (The Latehomecomer) to my colleagues: what if I bomb? What if they've just signed up to criticize? But all went well.

My partner was easy to work with: professional and approachable, sincere in her willingness to share what she's done with the Common Book. My colleagues were colleagial, sharing what had worked for them and inventing new ideas right on the spot.

We received compliments all around: one person even said she admired the way I demonstrated the techniques I was teaching about. All in all, a nice afternoon.

How I hate

Hate, hate, hate our governor's attitude: in today's press conference, he called us higher education folks "whiny" and "complainers"! He *consistently* disrespects us public servants -- especially in public, in the media.

Good News

Here's a Google News site that just posts good news! It's a great resource for students . . . for showing how a fake news site can look legit.

Wouldn't the world be good if this site was NOT a fake?

How can I already be behind?

We're three days into the summer session -- I'm caught up on reading for my class, but you may be asking why do I have to *re*read everything every semester? Don't I already know the Julian of Norwich/Margery Kempe/Aemilia Lanyer by heart? (yeah, well, the outlines of the narratives, the significant scenes/conversations/images, yes -- but not the nitty-gritty details)

But being caught up with reading doesn't mean I'm caught up with creating quizzes, figuring out good classroom activities, clearing off my office desk/table. Last semester's files still piled up!

Leftover student sentence

Did I post this gem? (I'm cleaning up my office.)

"She is known as a maniac depressant."

Can't remember to whom the students was referring . . . but a gem, nonetheless.

Everything takes longer

Why is it that tweaking a syllabus takes four hours instead of one? Maybe it's the three-day-a-week schedule. Maybe the new edition of the text.

Maybe the fact that I have to figure out how to schedule a chronological list of authors/readings over a compressed semester (sixteen weeks down to six!).

I've got Mondays for novel-length texts (Wollstonecraft, Shelley, Bronte, Woolf), which I hope works!

(From that author list, can you guess which course I'm teaching?)

Just lost

One of my summer courses has been really underenrolled, and the dean just called an hour ago to say it was being canceled.

Sad, especially since it's the Intro to GLBT Studies course that partners with the Twin Cities Pride festival . . . a *real* service learning experience. :-(

Wake up to homophobia

Every year, I organize the volunteers for our college's table at Twin Cities Pride. This task should rightfully be the Admissions office's responsibility, but they don't think the event has a big enough "yield potential for the college" (more than 400,000 people attend the two-day festival, so I'm just not sure what kind of "yield potential" the Admissions people need).

At any rate, yesterday I sent out my usual invitation for volunteers and woke up today to a half-dozen emails in response: five were "Yes, I can volunteer for a shift!" but one was as follows:

"Julie,

"I am NOT interested in this at all.
"Please remove my name off of your list for functions that pertain to this issues."

I wrote back, thanking her/him for the message [my inner good-girl coming out here], and noting that I did not know how to remove a single person from the "everyone" email ist I used: did s/he know?

I'm especially concerned about this situation because we've had some weird discussion on our campus about the "everyone" emails. Some people, evidently, hate them and are causing enough noise for our college to send out a survey asking about the use of "everyone" emails.

When I completed my survey last week, I couldn't imagine why anyone would object to the "everyone" emails -- if the message doesn't apply to you, just delete it is what I think! I personally like getting them because communication at our college is SO TERRIBLE that the "everyone" emails at least give a person the chance to know something about what's going on.

Since I couldn't figure out why anyone would object to the "everyone" emails, I brought up the topic at our department end-of-the-semester meeting last Friday. Two of my colleagues - one a long-time faculty member and one new-ish - railed against the "everyone" emails! They "hate" them because they go to class and come back to find "tons" of messages in their inboxes. The information "never" pertains to them. They "hate" them!

I was stunned by their reaction at first, but they are two very lazy colleagues, so it seems as though that characteristic may apply here.

The point related to the homophobic response, though, and the thing that makes me concerned is that our intensely incompetent and arrogant IT director will probably lock-down the "everyone" email option (currently, anyone can send an "everyone" email, which is just fine I think in terms of communication freedom). This man has come in and *wrecked* our IT infrastructure (and hired folks who are terrible, terrible, terrible -- the purple email above was from an IT person, coincidentally).

Anyway, it's now summer, and I should let go of the problems at work -- but I'm teaching summer school, including an Intro to GLBT Studies course, so maybe this homophobia will be a "teachable moment" for me. We'll see.

Avoiding

Don't want to check my college email because I think it'll be full of students asking, "Where are my grades?" which aren't due until Tuesday. I had such high hopes of grading during finals week, but I gave two finals (had to create one from scratch) instead -- and also traveled to Chicago twice for my own college-student-daughter's final performance.

I hate grades.