According to Harold Bloom, Milton wrote with the anxiety of having come after Shakespeare. In the same vein, I'm teaching this college success course with a good deal of anxiety and uncertainty, esp. since I'm teaching it in the shadow of one of my colleagues, who's helping me out, has taught the course a long time, and is the guru.
This afternoon I was consulting with her about assignments and course content, and the old demons took over: "I can't possibly teach this course as well, there's no way, I'm not qualified," et al. Monkey mind. And I was stressing so much that I was barely aware of my desk, my clothes, my department mates. I haven't felt that wooged out from teaching in years, possibly not since my first semester as a full-time tenure-tracker 12 years ago.
But I got through both sections tonight, and it was fine. The biggest challenge will be figuring out how to effectively teach this stuff in two 50-minute sections per week I loathe 50-minute classes even more now than I used to, esp. since I'm used to 75, 105, and even more minutes per meeting. I can change my mind in 50, and that's about it.
Still, when I can burrow past the self-doubt and the stress of teaching a brand-new subject, I can see enjoying it. I actually did enjoy the second section tonight; they supplied a good deal of the energy, and I just had to conduct the orchestra.
As long as I can stay two steps ahead, maybe I'll be ah-ight.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
You never step in the same stagnant pool twice.
And so, on to another fall semester and a fresh crop of willing suckers.
Check that. Time for another fall semester and an exciting horizon of boundless opportunities!
I'm trying to channel a little more of the latter sentiment, though not in such gross terms. This college success course I will soon be teaching (first section in 4 hours!) has me wanting to be a little more peppy, a little more positive about this place. We'll see if it lasts. Their first assignment is a time management exercise, in which they have to keep a log of everything they do for a week and then perform some mathematical analysis. How does that sound?
This course has me feeling like a newbie all over again, though I'm much less of one than I was when I first began this enterprise in spring '95 (!). I intend to stay at least two steps ahead of the students, which is the same way I've always taught a course for the first time. Is there any other way?
I remember my intense "fish out of water" feelings from '95, and I remember how ambitious and rose-colored I was. I think my first-ever syllabus required eight essays, possibly nine. I remember breaking into tears one day and being consoled outside the room by a student. I also remember the intense notes I took from the textbook; I still have them here. I thought I needed to write it all down because it was all important.
I don't know much, but I know this: I've learned the art of faking it. So if I blunder through a class meeting or two, I won't be hard on myself--or not as much. I have the beginning and the end of the cousre figured out, but the middle is proving squirrelly. Luckily, our college-success guru is across the hall, and I will pepper her with questions later this week.
Did I mention I'm looking forward to teaching this course?
Check that. Time for another fall semester and an exciting horizon of boundless opportunities!
I'm trying to channel a little more of the latter sentiment, though not in such gross terms. This college success course I will soon be teaching (first section in 4 hours!) has me wanting to be a little more peppy, a little more positive about this place. We'll see if it lasts. Their first assignment is a time management exercise, in which they have to keep a log of everything they do for a week and then perform some mathematical analysis. How does that sound?
This course has me feeling like a newbie all over again, though I'm much less of one than I was when I first began this enterprise in spring '95 (!). I intend to stay at least two steps ahead of the students, which is the same way I've always taught a course for the first time. Is there any other way?
I remember my intense "fish out of water" feelings from '95, and I remember how ambitious and rose-colored I was. I think my first-ever syllabus required eight essays, possibly nine. I remember breaking into tears one day and being consoled outside the room by a student. I also remember the intense notes I took from the textbook; I still have them here. I thought I needed to write it all down because it was all important.
I don't know much, but I know this: I've learned the art of faking it. So if I blunder through a class meeting or two, I won't be hard on myself--or not as much. I have the beginning and the end of the cousre figured out, but the middle is proving squirrelly. Luckily, our college-success guru is across the hall, and I will pepper her with questions later this week.
Did I mention I'm looking forward to teaching this course?
It's a Kingsized world of love.
This weekend, we two and a mutual friend journeyed into town for what's fast become a semi-ritual for us: the annual Elvis "death day" show at the Variety Playhouse, put on by lead man Mike Geier and a collective known as Kingsized. (Geier is a large man and sings full-throated, hence the name.)
I mean to tell you: these guys are super. They channel the latter-day Elvis, mostly, but they channel him and that well-hewn early-70s soul-country vibe without slavishly imitating either. They pull out all the stops, and then some: Geier's the main attraction, but there's also the rhythm section, a 5-piece horn section, a percussionist, and the Sweet Potato Inspiration Choir. Oh, and toss in the Dames Aflame; they're a local go-go-ish dancing troupe who provide nice, um, choreography. There's barely enough room onstage to hold them all.
Anyone who digs Elvis from the '68 comeback special on will probably dig Kingsized. They toss in a few early nuggets (thankfully, no "Heartbreak Hotel") but focus, rightly I think, on the more interesting and complicated body of work after Elvis gave up movies and returned to live performance. So you get the brass-heavy showstoppers ("Polk Salad Annie," "An American Trilogy," "Never Been to Spain") mixed in with some of the schmaltz ("My Way," "Bridge Over Troubled Water") mixed in with the gospel stuff ("How Great Thou Art," "Run On for a Long Time"). And they're further savvy by throwing in a few things which Elvis never covered but could have, such as "Little Egypt" by the Coasters.
The last two shows, Kinsgized has added an encore in which they leave behind the Elvis tribute and do a couple of similarly appropriate numbers. As mentioned, Geier has a bear of a voice and so needs the right vehicle. This time, they did a superb "With a Little Help from My Friends" (Joe Cocker, not the Beatles) and "Come Sail Away"; for me, Styx has always been a little icky, but they did it well.
I hasten to add this is no camp. This is a solid, well-built band. It's the perfect way to keep alive the spirit of Elvis. I like to think the King would have approved of Kingsized.
I mean to tell you: these guys are super. They channel the latter-day Elvis, mostly, but they channel him and that well-hewn early-70s soul-country vibe without slavishly imitating either. They pull out all the stops, and then some: Geier's the main attraction, but there's also the rhythm section, a 5-piece horn section, a percussionist, and the Sweet Potato Inspiration Choir. Oh, and toss in the Dames Aflame; they're a local go-go-ish dancing troupe who provide nice, um, choreography. There's barely enough room onstage to hold them all.
Anyone who digs Elvis from the '68 comeback special on will probably dig Kingsized. They toss in a few early nuggets (thankfully, no "Heartbreak Hotel") but focus, rightly I think, on the more interesting and complicated body of work after Elvis gave up movies and returned to live performance. So you get the brass-heavy showstoppers ("Polk Salad Annie," "An American Trilogy," "Never Been to Spain") mixed in with some of the schmaltz ("My Way," "Bridge Over Troubled Water") mixed in with the gospel stuff ("How Great Thou Art," "Run On for a Long Time"). And they're further savvy by throwing in a few things which Elvis never covered but could have, such as "Little Egypt" by the Coasters.
The last two shows, Kinsgized has added an encore in which they leave behind the Elvis tribute and do a couple of similarly appropriate numbers. As mentioned, Geier has a bear of a voice and so needs the right vehicle. This time, they did a superb "With a Little Help from My Friends" (Joe Cocker, not the Beatles) and "Come Sail Away"; for me, Styx has always been a little icky, but they did it well.
I hasten to add this is no camp. This is a solid, well-built band. It's the perfect way to keep alive the spirit of Elvis. I like to think the King would have approved of Kingsized.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Two from Kay Ryan, new U.S. Poet Laureate.
I've just discovered Ryan's work--not hard to do, given how much out of the poetry loop I am, but apparently she's a low-profile person by nature, a bit like former laureate Ted Kooser in that sense. She teaches developmental English in the Marin area of California and has very quietly published 4-5 books over the last decade and a half.
She writes compressed gems such as these two (from her 2005 volume The Niagara River). Look/listen for her gentle internal rhymes and dig those sly line breaks. The poems are not quite like anything else I've ever read. She's being compared to Dickinson, but Dickinson is a lot wilder and more profane by any stretch. Enjoy...
The Best of It
However carved up
or pared down we get,
we keep on making
the best of it as though
it doesn't matter that
our acre's down to
a square foot. As
though our garden
could be one bean
and we'd rejoice if
it flourishes, as
though one bean
could nourish us.
Ideal Audience
Not scattered legions,
not a dozen from
a single region
for whom accent
matters, not a seven-
member coven,
not five shirttail
cousins; just
one free citizen--
maybe not alive
now even--who
will know with
exquisite gloom
that only we two
ever found this room.
She writes compressed gems such as these two (from her 2005 volume The Niagara River). Look/listen for her gentle internal rhymes and dig those sly line breaks. The poems are not quite like anything else I've ever read. She's being compared to Dickinson, but Dickinson is a lot wilder and more profane by any stretch. Enjoy...
The Best of It
However carved up
or pared down we get,
we keep on making
the best of it as though
it doesn't matter that
our acre's down to
a square foot. As
though our garden
could be one bean
and we'd rejoice if
it flourishes, as
though one bean
could nourish us.
Ideal Audience
Not scattered legions,
not a dozen from
a single region
for whom accent
matters, not a seven-
member coven,
not five shirttail
cousins; just
one free citizen--
maybe not alive
now even--who
will know with
exquisite gloom
that only we two
ever found this room.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
What kind of man watches Man vs. Wild?
Answer: me. But only because the young lady had it on the other night, and only because her brother raves about it. So I've seen parts of two episodes, the one in Alaska and the one in the Baja desert.
I have just one question: for whom is this show designed? The dude (Bear) dispenses wilderness survival tips to an audience who will never hike through the Baja desert, let alone hike with only a knife and a tiny backpack. His peeling back the snake skin to pee into it (and thus to drink the pee and keep himself going) was morbidly fascinating, but I mean, all this advice ("Make sure you chop the head off and bury it, because the venom is still active!") is needless for me.
It would be more effective as a straight travel/adventure show, and it's pretty effective as it is. But you know what I want to see? A series about this dude's camera crew. They have to do what he does, but with cameras and mikes and all sorts of shit.
I have just one question: for whom is this show designed? The dude (Bear) dispenses wilderness survival tips to an audience who will never hike through the Baja desert, let alone hike with only a knife and a tiny backpack. His peeling back the snake skin to pee into it (and thus to drink the pee and keep himself going) was morbidly fascinating, but I mean, all this advice ("Make sure you chop the head off and bury it, because the venom is still active!") is needless for me.
It would be more effective as a straight travel/adventure show, and it's pretty effective as it is. But you know what I want to see? A series about this dude's camera crew. They have to do what he does, but with cameras and mikes and all sorts of shit.
Part 2: Return of the civic spirit (somewhat) and beginning of the fall.
Not to overstate the case, but so far, for no particular reason, I'm feeling a bit more outreach-y, like I don't mind doing my civic duty. Tomorrow I'm helping out for an hour with registration after my advising is done; we have a ton of students descending upon us tomorrow, and I'll be answering general (hopefully easy) questions, directing them to the right buildings, pointing, showing, etc. Labor Day weekend, I'm volunteering at a local book festival by serving at the "concierge" desk one morning--probably the same sort of pointing and showing and answering.
And I'm still volunteering with our literacy volunteers organization, tutoring a student once a week in basic, basic, basic reading skills. I haven't mentioned it here yet because...well, progress has been slow to non-existent. I may elaborate later.
The young lady hopes to begin volunteering at a local animal shelter soon. She's already been through the training/orientation, and it kinda interests me, too.
Anyway, I'm not justifying my existence by writing this. I just mean to say that I'm feeling light about all of this, that it's no imposition, and that I'm doing something besides what I'm paid to do--something satisfying.
And I'm still volunteering with our literacy volunteers organization, tutoring a student once a week in basic, basic, basic reading skills. I haven't mentioned it here yet because...well, progress has been slow to non-existent. I may elaborate later.
The young lady hopes to begin volunteering at a local animal shelter soon. She's already been through the training/orientation, and it kinda interests me, too.
Anyway, I'm not justifying my existence by writing this. I just mean to say that I'm feeling light about all of this, that it's no imposition, and that I'm doing something besides what I'm paid to do--something satisfying.
Return of the civic spirit (somewhat) and beginning of the fall.
Why, hello.
Out of the loop for a while, there. No reasons, really: no vacations, no house projects, nothing much other than staying out of the heat. I admire those of you out there who update every day; I wish I could, but I feel compelled to update only when there's something to update.
And now, frickin' fall semester is upon us like a loan shark. Lots of bustle today and yesterday. Yesterday was the annual college-wide "convocation" at our campus, a joyous occasion in which we all convocate and presumably share tales of the summer, but in which we mostly listen to administrators justify their jobs. Lots of razzle-dazzle, lots of encomiums, lots of abstractions and buzzwords. In the morning session, In a gym filled with, I don't know, 1000 people, such exhortations rang hollow. I got so dithered up about the level of hot air in there that I left at break and went back to my office to get work done. Which I did, lots of it.
Today, another meeting at our campus, this time just for our campus faculty (we have multiple campuses), and it wasn't so much a meeting as a facilities update and a brief intro of most of the department heads and visible folks in registration and such Not even a welcoming of the new faculty hires, because the dean didn't have the full list available. (This place is infuriating sometimes for how much faculty are shoved aside, but that's another post.) In short, I could have slept for another hour.
The upside is that I then had 3.5 hours between the end of that meeting and the beginning of our department meeting, during which I knocked out part of my evaluation portfolio due next Friday and made sure I had all the needed copies. (I'm up for promotion to associate professor, so I don't want to wait until last minute.) And I crossed off a few more items on my to-do list for the college success course, and emailed a couple of people about a couple of things.
Then the department meeting at 2:00. We are an enormous department now. I counted 31 people there including the chair. We lost one of our campuses this spring due to UGA usurpation (though we opened a new one way out east), so several faculty in the diaspora transferred to our campus. Plus, we have six new tenure-trackers. Of course, the campus has barely enough space to house everyone, and this fall, major renovations will begin on one building, soon to include two buildings, thereby creating more displacement.
It's kind of wild and fun, actually. This meeting today may also mark the only time most of the full-timers and term-to-termers are gathered in the same room. Now it's off to our disparate schedules and preps.
I'll elaborate on the first half of the title in the next post.
Out of the loop for a while, there. No reasons, really: no vacations, no house projects, nothing much other than staying out of the heat. I admire those of you out there who update every day; I wish I could, but I feel compelled to update only when there's something to update.
And now, frickin' fall semester is upon us like a loan shark. Lots of bustle today and yesterday. Yesterday was the annual college-wide "convocation" at our campus, a joyous occasion in which we all convocate and presumably share tales of the summer, but in which we mostly listen to administrators justify their jobs. Lots of razzle-dazzle, lots of encomiums, lots of abstractions and buzzwords. In the morning session, In a gym filled with, I don't know, 1000 people, such exhortations rang hollow. I got so dithered up about the level of hot air in there that I left at break and went back to my office to get work done. Which I did, lots of it.
Today, another meeting at our campus, this time just for our campus faculty (we have multiple campuses), and it wasn't so much a meeting as a facilities update and a brief intro of most of the department heads and visible folks in registration and such Not even a welcoming of the new faculty hires, because the dean didn't have the full list available. (This place is infuriating sometimes for how much faculty are shoved aside, but that's another post.) In short, I could have slept for another hour.
The upside is that I then had 3.5 hours between the end of that meeting and the beginning of our department meeting, during which I knocked out part of my evaluation portfolio due next Friday and made sure I had all the needed copies. (I'm up for promotion to associate professor, so I don't want to wait until last minute.) And I crossed off a few more items on my to-do list for the college success course, and emailed a couple of people about a couple of things.
Then the department meeting at 2:00. We are an enormous department now. I counted 31 people there including the chair. We lost one of our campuses this spring due to UGA usurpation (though we opened a new one way out east), so several faculty in the diaspora transferred to our campus. Plus, we have six new tenure-trackers. Of course, the campus has barely enough space to house everyone, and this fall, major renovations will begin on one building, soon to include two buildings, thereby creating more displacement.
It's kind of wild and fun, actually. This meeting today may also mark the only time most of the full-timers and term-to-termers are gathered in the same room. Now it's off to our disparate schedules and preps.
I'll elaborate on the first half of the title in the next post.
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