You know there's that old saying about not wanting to know how sausages or laws are made?
So I want to say there's something of that to the hiring process. To remind you, I chaired a search committee for a one year position in interdisciplinary basketweaving.
The committee did its part, the applicants did theirs. The chair offered the position to someone who accepted, put in the paperwork. And voila, that should be good, right?
This was back in mid-May.
In May, after we'd had the offer accepted, I drafted a short rejection note, using the help you folks had offered here, on May 19th. But everyone warned me that I cannot send the rejection note out until we have a signed contract back. It's been over a month. And it hasn't even gone out to the candidate yet, I bet. (I bet this because I got an email on Friday asking me for some information needed to process the candidate, so I'm guessing the processing didn't get done until after I responded to the email at 3pm, if then. And being Friday and all, even if the contract was put in outgoing mail, it's probably still sitting there, waiting for the Monday pick up.)
I'm sure the candidates have decided that I'm an irresponsible jerk.
I'd like to apologize to all the job candidates out there who've complained, and rightly so, about not getting a timely note about their status when a campus has hired someone else.
The thing is, once the call's been made and an offer accepted, a long train of paperwork starts. Here at NWU, the department chair initiates hiring paperwork, which goes on it's merry way up the ladder, first to the dean, and then the provost. The provost gets it to HR, where it sits for however long (in this case, over a month).
And the committee chair who intends to send out timely notifications can't. And then the committee chair gets really busy, and is probably out of the loop about when the contract gets back, so maybe things get pushed aside, and by the time the committee chair looks at them again, it feels silly to send out a rejection note.
I'm going out of town in early July, so if I don't get the information before then, my notes will have to wait even longer.
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Monday, June 20, 2016
Over My Head
Way back in April, I agreed to do a talk for a local group connected with a not-quite so local Shakespeare festival, here in town. We set a date, and it's coming up.
I knew I didn't have to worry about it for a while, but now, well, it's coming up, and it's hanging over my head. But it's still a week off.
Here's the thing. If I do the work on this talk, get it set up, figured out, then I'll feel free to go out and play at different stuff. But instead, I've been procrastinating. But I haven't been procrastinating by going out and playing at what I most want to play at (say, biking, birding, kayaking, gardening), but instead just procrastinating and wasting time. (I have been practicing the violin at least.)
So, today, I just need to go get the initial work done, and then I can feel good about going out and playing. Right?
(I need to reread some lit crit, reread the play, put together a handout, put together a power point with a couple of pictures, and write out notes for the talk. I'm guessing 10-16 hours, at least. I should keep track.)
I knew I didn't have to worry about it for a while, but now, well, it's coming up, and it's hanging over my head. But it's still a week off.
Here's the thing. If I do the work on this talk, get it set up, figured out, then I'll feel free to go out and play at different stuff. But instead, I've been procrastinating. But I haven't been procrastinating by going out and playing at what I most want to play at (say, biking, birding, kayaking, gardening), but instead just procrastinating and wasting time. (I have been practicing the violin at least.)
So, today, I just need to go get the initial work done, and then I can feel good about going out and playing. Right?
(I need to reread some lit crit, reread the play, put together a handout, put together a power point with a couple of pictures, and write out notes for the talk. I'm guessing 10-16 hours, at least. I should keep track.)
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Last Week's Best Ride
It's a loop, I call the Priory Hill Short Loop, about 22 miles.
About a mile in, there's Priory Hill.
It's way harder than it looks. But at least the hill's short.
Further along, on the left, soy, on the right, corn. Along with some wheat and alfalfa, pretty much the big farm crops around here.
The road goes off into the distance. But that hill isn't nearly as steep as Priory Hill.
There's a little, well-kept 19th century cemetery. I'd never stopped there, but as long as I was taking pictures, I did. Here's what I saw.
What stories Timothy Burgess could probably have told! From the War of 1812 to the great North Woods.
These were about the earliest grave markers I saw. So sad.
Here's something I see a lot around here. I little building at the side of the road. If you're not from the Midwest (in which case, I'm guessing you know), feel free to hazard a guess!
About a mile in, there's Priory Hill.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Shattered
I had cause to call our Human Resources office today, to check on something re the interdisciplinary basketweaving hire. Holy Cow.
I see, day to day, the difficulties in my department from the budget cuts. I hear from friends in other departments, too. I talk to students, and know they're having problems getting courses, despite everyone's best efforts to keep things as good as possible for our students.
But I didn't think so much about how much difficulty HR is in. First, I have to acknowledge that a good, experienced HR person is pretty employable all over the place. It's not like a Shakespeare person, where there are 15 to 25 jobs in a year to apply to, all at once. Nope, an HR person who's good (and ours are, pretty much. Or were.) puts out feelers, and before long, they have another job lined up, one that probably pays better than ours. And off they go.
So, the interdisciplinary basketweaving hire problem is, I hope, on its way to being solved. I expressed my sympathies for the overworked HR person.
I know there's administrative bloat. At NWU, there's a bunch of people whose basic jobs are to make work for other people, making extra paperwork, making assessment rules and then changing them mid-stream, and so on. (We've now combined a few of those, thanks to some retirements and people taking other jobs.) Their other job is to create acronyms to make it difficult for anyone to understand what they're doing. This they call "accountability." We're supposed to be accountable for how long it takes our majors to graduate. Should we not accept students who switch into the major as juniors? How about if we didn't accept students who can only take 12 credits a semester because they're working full time?
But at the basic level of people necessary to running an institution, those folks are really hurting here.
In, what, three years, the governor and legislature have shattered a university system that was pretty darned good, to the extent that even if they totally changed their attitudes right now, it would take 10 years to rebuild. Of course, as far as they're concerned, this is a feature, not a bug. They went in intending to devastate the university, and they've accomplished a lot.
I think one of our teaching units may lose accreditation from it's official area organization. That could devastate it. What student would come here for that area if the unit isn't accredited?
I see, day to day, the difficulties in my department from the budget cuts. I hear from friends in other departments, too. I talk to students, and know they're having problems getting courses, despite everyone's best efforts to keep things as good as possible for our students.
But I didn't think so much about how much difficulty HR is in. First, I have to acknowledge that a good, experienced HR person is pretty employable all over the place. It's not like a Shakespeare person, where there are 15 to 25 jobs in a year to apply to, all at once. Nope, an HR person who's good (and ours are, pretty much. Or were.) puts out feelers, and before long, they have another job lined up, one that probably pays better than ours. And off they go.
So, the interdisciplinary basketweaving hire problem is, I hope, on its way to being solved. I expressed my sympathies for the overworked HR person.
I know there's administrative bloat. At NWU, there's a bunch of people whose basic jobs are to make work for other people, making extra paperwork, making assessment rules and then changing them mid-stream, and so on. (We've now combined a few of those, thanks to some retirements and people taking other jobs.) Their other job is to create acronyms to make it difficult for anyone to understand what they're doing. This they call "accountability." We're supposed to be accountable for how long it takes our majors to graduate. Should we not accept students who switch into the major as juniors? How about if we didn't accept students who can only take 12 credits a semester because they're working full time?
But at the basic level of people necessary to running an institution, those folks are really hurting here.
In, what, three years, the governor and legislature have shattered a university system that was pretty darned good, to the extent that even if they totally changed their attitudes right now, it would take 10 years to rebuild. Of course, as far as they're concerned, this is a feature, not a bug. They went in intending to devastate the university, and they've accomplished a lot.
I think one of our teaching units may lose accreditation from it's official area organization. That could devastate it. What student would come here for that area if the unit isn't accredited?
Monday, June 13, 2016
Blink
Just like that, and ten (plus) days pass. I've been happy, busy, stunned, and horrified.
I want to read more about the men of color who were killed in Orlando. I think we need to see the intersectionality of the gay community, to recognize it purposefully.
And I think we need to end male violence.
Meanwhile, in more peaceful pursuits, unless you're a weed in my garden, I've been weeding and weedwhacking. It felt like there was the end of the semester business, then other business, then a week of rain, and my garden was just buried in weeds. So I weedwhacked and weeded.
I whacked the back greenspace so that I have a path by the fence, and also can get to each of the trees I planted there (and cleared around them so they have more light and less root competition).
I weeded a small 6'x6' area I've come to think of as the "weedy area" and found a surviving asparagus plant. I left that, but weeded the area, then got myself a couple of hostas, a couple of astilbes, and some cedar mulch, and planted. In fall, I'll put in some bulbs, probably. It will still grow weeds, but there's a big improvement.
I also cleaned up generally in that area, weeded another weedy area (smaller, much smaller) and found that my lavender plant is still alive. So that was rewarding.
I put in some little concrete ornamental sort of barrier things to keep the soil off the cement paved area. And weeded that, poured vinegar on the weed parts that looked likely to come back fast.
Right now, there's a pile of weeds on the cement area (I like to let them dry a bit in hopes that they'll actually die for real before I toss them out to fertilize the green space). But after I toss them, and sweep again, that whole area will look a lot better than it has in ages.
I'm so out of shape that all the weeding and such (paddling, weedwhacking) has my arms feeling like lead, sore lead. Ugh.
I need to get off the couch now and get some stuff done.
Goals for the week:
Vinegar on the weeds surrounding my garden raised beds. I can't physically get to them well because of the fence and retaining wall, but I'm going to try vinegar and them a big load of mulch down. And hope.
Weed one more over weedy area. That would pretty much clean up the back. Then back to the front, where there's a bunch of dead heading and such to do. Because it really does never end in summer here in the garden. That's okay, on one level, because it sure is nice to be outside!
Practice violin. I missed a day, and boy can I tell. But I'm very slowly improving, memorizing my new pieces, and working on the hard parts.
Work on a talk I'm giving at the end of the month.
Reread a student paper, write comments, and send it to them (because they asked, and of course, I'm happy to do it.)
Ride my bike, paddle my kayak. Good stuff! Maybe head out camping if the rain stops for a couple days in the middle of the week. (Weekends seem way busier at the state parks.)
Stretch every day. I should start with this.
Work on a paper for SAA. I have an idea, I think.
I want to read more about the men of color who were killed in Orlando. I think we need to see the intersectionality of the gay community, to recognize it purposefully.
And I think we need to end male violence.
Meanwhile, in more peaceful pursuits, unless you're a weed in my garden, I've been weeding and weedwhacking. It felt like there was the end of the semester business, then other business, then a week of rain, and my garden was just buried in weeds. So I weedwhacked and weeded.
I whacked the back greenspace so that I have a path by the fence, and also can get to each of the trees I planted there (and cleared around them so they have more light and less root competition).
I weeded a small 6'x6' area I've come to think of as the "weedy area" and found a surviving asparagus plant. I left that, but weeded the area, then got myself a couple of hostas, a couple of astilbes, and some cedar mulch, and planted. In fall, I'll put in some bulbs, probably. It will still grow weeds, but there's a big improvement.
I also cleaned up generally in that area, weeded another weedy area (smaller, much smaller) and found that my lavender plant is still alive. So that was rewarding.
I put in some little concrete ornamental sort of barrier things to keep the soil off the cement paved area. And weeded that, poured vinegar on the weed parts that looked likely to come back fast.
Right now, there's a pile of weeds on the cement area (I like to let them dry a bit in hopes that they'll actually die for real before I toss them out to fertilize the green space). But after I toss them, and sweep again, that whole area will look a lot better than it has in ages.
I'm so out of shape that all the weeding and such (paddling, weedwhacking) has my arms feeling like lead, sore lead. Ugh.
I need to get off the couch now and get some stuff done.
Goals for the week:
Vinegar on the weeds surrounding my garden raised beds. I can't physically get to them well because of the fence and retaining wall, but I'm going to try vinegar and them a big load of mulch down. And hope.
Weed one more over weedy area. That would pretty much clean up the back. Then back to the front, where there's a bunch of dead heading and such to do. Because it really does never end in summer here in the garden. That's okay, on one level, because it sure is nice to be outside!
Practice violin. I missed a day, and boy can I tell. But I'm very slowly improving, memorizing my new pieces, and working on the hard parts.
Work on a talk I'm giving at the end of the month.
Reread a student paper, write comments, and send it to them (because they asked, and of course, I'm happy to do it.)
Ride my bike, paddle my kayak. Good stuff! Maybe head out camping if the rain stops for a couple days in the middle of the week. (Weekends seem way busier at the state parks.)
Stretch every day. I should start with this.
Work on a paper for SAA. I have an idea, I think.
Thursday, June 02, 2016
Kids Today...
In the wake of the horrific news from UCLA, one of my facebook folks started a thread about how everyone on campus should have had guns, which several other folks replied to commenting on how much safer it would be if everyone had guns, and so on. And then my friend started a sub-thread about how kids today are spoiled, whiny, etc etc.
So, I responded not once, but twice. First, to the guns on campus thread, where I said that I dreaded the idea of returning exams (or any assignment) where some students hadn't done well to a group of 30+ students, all armed.
I well remember having fantasies, running around the local schoolyard with friends and cousins, waving finger guns, playing I, Spy, and Man from UNCLE, that one or two of us with a gun could easily take out bad guys, keep the good guys alive, and be heroes. At some point, certainly by the time I was in high school, I'd outgrown that fantasy. Most adults do. But the ones who haven't, seriously, need to go play laser tag or something (where I lost totally, and where even our winner was hit more than a few times). Imagine a campus full of armed people, all hearing a gun shot, drawing, looking around, and seeing everyone armed, ready to shoot. It's not like the old WWII movies where you knew who was on your side by the uniforms (though friendly fire accidents probably happened), and where everyone manages to shoot accurately in the heat of the moment (which, I've read, doesn't actually usually happen in combat).
But the kids today thing really pissed me off. So I posted about my students, mostly good folks, mostly hard working, mostly dealing with a lot more responsibility and work than I had in college. This is a generation that's spent their coming of age years, since 2008, rocked by a crappy economy. Remember reading about all those people who lost jobs, homes, livelihoods? Those adults, some of them had kids, and those kids are college-aged now. Sure, some haven't been hit at all by the recession and grew up pretty privileged. And some of those are brats, no doubt. The same way some of the previous generations were spoiled brats.
We (my generation, the folks in our 40s and 50s now) haven't done well by the next generation. And the Baby Boomers, because they have more political clout, have perhaps done worse. We thought college was expensive then, but now, it's way, way more expensive for a public education. And our schools aren't getting the funding they did when the government was all worried about Sputnik.
So, kids today.... are pretty much like kids in any day. Some have it easy, but most don't. Some are wonderful, a few aren't. Some work really hard, and some are still growing up.
After I responded with my defense on my facebook friend's post, he responded that he didn't actually know or work with any young adults, but had just gone on what the media says. WTF? It's like deciding you hate Blacks because the media report on Black men in prison, isn't it?
Let's recognize that the news out of UCLA has told us about the victim, but (from what I've seen so far) nothing about the murderer/suicide victim. For all I know, that person might be a non-traditional student in his 50s (I think I read male pronouns being used, but I'm not sure even of that). The student might have had mental health issues. (I think you'd pretty much have to have something very bad going on to plan and commit murder, no?) Ages 18-25 are tough in a lot of ways, not least in that if someone's going to have mental health issues, they often surface then, when a lot of people have (or feel they have) little access to support systems.
So, I responded not once, but twice. First, to the guns on campus thread, where I said that I dreaded the idea of returning exams (or any assignment) where some students hadn't done well to a group of 30+ students, all armed.
I well remember having fantasies, running around the local schoolyard with friends and cousins, waving finger guns, playing I, Spy, and Man from UNCLE, that one or two of us with a gun could easily take out bad guys, keep the good guys alive, and be heroes. At some point, certainly by the time I was in high school, I'd outgrown that fantasy. Most adults do. But the ones who haven't, seriously, need to go play laser tag or something (where I lost totally, and where even our winner was hit more than a few times). Imagine a campus full of armed people, all hearing a gun shot, drawing, looking around, and seeing everyone armed, ready to shoot. It's not like the old WWII movies where you knew who was on your side by the uniforms (though friendly fire accidents probably happened), and where everyone manages to shoot accurately in the heat of the moment (which, I've read, doesn't actually usually happen in combat).
But the kids today thing really pissed me off. So I posted about my students, mostly good folks, mostly hard working, mostly dealing with a lot more responsibility and work than I had in college. This is a generation that's spent their coming of age years, since 2008, rocked by a crappy economy. Remember reading about all those people who lost jobs, homes, livelihoods? Those adults, some of them had kids, and those kids are college-aged now. Sure, some haven't been hit at all by the recession and grew up pretty privileged. And some of those are brats, no doubt. The same way some of the previous generations were spoiled brats.
We (my generation, the folks in our 40s and 50s now) haven't done well by the next generation. And the Baby Boomers, because they have more political clout, have perhaps done worse. We thought college was expensive then, but now, it's way, way more expensive for a public education. And our schools aren't getting the funding they did when the government was all worried about Sputnik.
So, kids today.... are pretty much like kids in any day. Some have it easy, but most don't. Some are wonderful, a few aren't. Some work really hard, and some are still growing up.
After I responded with my defense on my facebook friend's post, he responded that he didn't actually know or work with any young adults, but had just gone on what the media says. WTF? It's like deciding you hate Blacks because the media report on Black men in prison, isn't it?
Let's recognize that the news out of UCLA has told us about the victim, but (from what I've seen so far) nothing about the murderer/suicide victim. For all I know, that person might be a non-traditional student in his 50s (I think I read male pronouns being used, but I'm not sure even of that). The student might have had mental health issues. (I think you'd pretty much have to have something very bad going on to plan and commit murder, no?) Ages 18-25 are tough in a lot of ways, not least in that if someone's going to have mental health issues, they often surface then, when a lot of people have (or feel they have) little access to support systems.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
And, Exhale
The term is over! Well, mostly.
I turned in grades, but still have to go fill out assessment forms.
Why didn't I fill out the forms when I did the grades? Good question. On Sunday, I got a call from my niece that she was doing a special concert on Thursday, and inviting me. And a friend was moving, and ended up needing a whole lot more packing help than I'd figured on. So, I helped my friend, did my grading, turned in my grades, raced across the Midwest to the concert, and then came back. My niece did really well at her concert. She's really an adult now, and a good, kind, thoughtful, smart, caring one.
When I got back, there was news from our one year search in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We'd passed five names along to the interdepartmental director, and they started calling people. One of the five politely declined the director's interview because they had another job. The job's been offered, and we're waiting to hear from the person now, I gather.
If they don't accept, then what happens? I don't know, but I'm guessing it will be my responsibility somehow.
I offered to chair a search in my own department next fall, and the offer was accepted. The ad has to be done on our end within the month, so that it can be approved on up the line and be ready to go out at the very beginning of the search season.
I need to make a list and check it twice.
So, of course, I've gotten messages from my mom, asking if I'd turned in my grades yet, and if I were taking time to hang out with my niece and sister-in-law across the Midwest. Apparently, in her mind, I'm an irresponsible person who barely keeps my job and doesn't do anything much all summer.
I dread the stupid assessment forms. I guess I'd better look up and see what I have to fill out and for what authority (departmental goes one way, program another, GE another, and if we had accrediting in our field to worry about, that would go another yet); each path, and each form in the path has its own unique set of acronyms.
The other thing I found out when I got back is that two thirds of my colleagues are relatively sane.
I turned in grades, but still have to go fill out assessment forms.
Why didn't I fill out the forms when I did the grades? Good question. On Sunday, I got a call from my niece that she was doing a special concert on Thursday, and inviting me. And a friend was moving, and ended up needing a whole lot more packing help than I'd figured on. So, I helped my friend, did my grading, turned in my grades, raced across the Midwest to the concert, and then came back. My niece did really well at her concert. She's really an adult now, and a good, kind, thoughtful, smart, caring one.
When I got back, there was news from our one year search in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We'd passed five names along to the interdepartmental director, and they started calling people. One of the five politely declined the director's interview because they had another job. The job's been offered, and we're waiting to hear from the person now, I gather.
If they don't accept, then what happens? I don't know, but I'm guessing it will be my responsibility somehow.
I offered to chair a search in my own department next fall, and the offer was accepted. The ad has to be done on our end within the month, so that it can be approved on up the line and be ready to go out at the very beginning of the search season.
I need to make a list and check it twice.
So, of course, I've gotten messages from my mom, asking if I'd turned in my grades yet, and if I were taking time to hang out with my niece and sister-in-law across the Midwest. Apparently, in her mind, I'm an irresponsible person who barely keeps my job and doesn't do anything much all summer.
I dread the stupid assessment forms. I guess I'd better look up and see what I have to fill out and for what authority (departmental goes one way, program another, GE another, and if we had accrediting in our field to worry about, that would go another yet); each path, and each form in the path has its own unique set of acronyms.
The other thing I found out when I got back is that two thirds of my colleagues are relatively sane.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Job Well Done and a Help Request
I've been blogging about a search I'm on, which I've characterized as interdisciplinary basketweaving.
Looking for Dr. Right - introduces the search
Dr. Desperate - applicants who aren't really qualified, or who don't convince us they are
Finding My Biases in the Job Search - Thinking about some biases I have when I read applications
Schedule This - The difficulty of scheduling interviews at this point in the semester, and calling references.
We've now finished our interviews.
What I wish from job candidates: imagine if we list an interdisciplinary basketweaving job, and say we're interested in people who can teach basket aesthetics and economics of basketweaving at intro and advanced levels.
Our first question was about the intro to interdisciplinary basketweaving. An ideal answer would have started by recognizing that we think aesthetics and economics issues are important, and would talk about focusing the class through one or both of those issues, or would talk about some of the important themes or areas to introduce, and include those two areas.
Then we asked a question about the basketweaving aesthetics course. A really good answer talks about what's important to introduce in basketweaving aesthetics, and how the person introduces those. A brilliant answer also ties in the economics of aesthetic issues, because the candidate knows from our job ad that we see a relationship between those things as being important and think one person should be able to do both areas.
Then we asked about the economics of basketweaving in our lower division and upper division courses, both required for some majors. A really good answer explains the differences between the two courses in some way, and then talks about each, and thinks about how the second builds on the first. A brilliant answer includes something about the economics of aesthetic issues as a theme in one of the courses.
I'm grateful for the people I worked with on the search committee. They're smart and good colleagues to work with. We reached a strong consensus at each step along the way, focused on what we'd decided was important and were able to write up a short statement about each of the candidates we ranked for the next level up in the process.
And now it's out of my hands except for one thing: I'm going to have to write letters to the folks we didn't hire (after we've hired someone).
That's where I need your help. What graceful, kind, and decent thing can I say having interviewed (or not interviewed) people who've worked hard to get where they've gotten and really need a job, and aren't getting our job?
Looking for Dr. Right - introduces the search
Dr. Desperate - applicants who aren't really qualified, or who don't convince us they are
Finding My Biases in the Job Search - Thinking about some biases I have when I read applications
Schedule This - The difficulty of scheduling interviews at this point in the semester, and calling references.
We've now finished our interviews.
What I wish from job candidates: imagine if we list an interdisciplinary basketweaving job, and say we're interested in people who can teach basket aesthetics and economics of basketweaving at intro and advanced levels.
Our first question was about the intro to interdisciplinary basketweaving. An ideal answer would have started by recognizing that we think aesthetics and economics issues are important, and would talk about focusing the class through one or both of those issues, or would talk about some of the important themes or areas to introduce, and include those two areas.
Then we asked a question about the basketweaving aesthetics course. A really good answer talks about what's important to introduce in basketweaving aesthetics, and how the person introduces those. A brilliant answer also ties in the economics of aesthetic issues, because the candidate knows from our job ad that we see a relationship between those things as being important and think one person should be able to do both areas.
Then we asked about the economics of basketweaving in our lower division and upper division courses, both required for some majors. A really good answer explains the differences between the two courses in some way, and then talks about each, and thinks about how the second builds on the first. A brilliant answer includes something about the economics of aesthetic issues as a theme in one of the courses.
I'm grateful for the people I worked with on the search committee. They're smart and good colleagues to work with. We reached a strong consensus at each step along the way, focused on what we'd decided was important and were able to write up a short statement about each of the candidates we ranked for the next level up in the process.
And now it's out of my hands except for one thing: I'm going to have to write letters to the folks we didn't hire (after we've hired someone).
That's where I need your help. What graceful, kind, and decent thing can I say having interviewed (or not interviewed) people who've worked hard to get where they've gotten and really need a job, and aren't getting our job?
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Trans Folks and Privilege
I had a rather random conversation with a retired math prof today. I don't quite remember how it came up, but the math prof started talking about how unfair she felt it is that a trans person could grow up as a boy, then identify as a woman, and be allowed to apply for, say, a women's scholarship in math (a field where women are historically underrepresented at the university level).
She worried about her (hypothetical) 9-year old daughter, and what if she identified as male, what would she do. (I suggested she be supportive and loving of a child whatever their gender identification. She seemed surprised by that.)
Then she expanded her discussion, to talk about how unfair it would be if a bunch of men decided to identify as women and "take all [the women's] privileges."
I have to admit I was shocked. I guess I'm pretty insulated, because in most of my conversations about trans-related issues, we're talking about how we can be more supportive and educate ourselves and our students to be caring, respectful, and supportive.
Once I caught my breath, I asked her what women's privileges she thought men would be standing in line to gain? The wage gap? lack of paid maternity leave? and so forth.
I just don't think many men are going to give up their male privilege just for the fun of it. And if they do, who cares? Maybe if all men identified as women, the wage gap would actually disappear? And married folks would share housekeeping and child care equally?
At the end of the conversation, she said she'd think about what I said because she'd never thought about these issues in that way before.
She worried about her (hypothetical) 9-year old daughter, and what if she identified as male, what would she do. (I suggested she be supportive and loving of a child whatever their gender identification. She seemed surprised by that.)
Then she expanded her discussion, to talk about how unfair it would be if a bunch of men decided to identify as women and "take all [the women's] privileges."
I have to admit I was shocked. I guess I'm pretty insulated, because in most of my conversations about trans-related issues, we're talking about how we can be more supportive and educate ourselves and our students to be caring, respectful, and supportive.
Once I caught my breath, I asked her what women's privileges she thought men would be standing in line to gain? The wage gap? lack of paid maternity leave? and so forth.
I just don't think many men are going to give up their male privilege just for the fun of it. And if they do, who cares? Maybe if all men identified as women, the wage gap would actually disappear? And married folks would share housekeeping and child care equally?
At the end of the conversation, she said she'd think about what I said because she'd never thought about these issues in that way before.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Schedule This!
In addition to the usual end of the semester mix of grading jail, student panics, and tiredness, I've got the special joys of calling references and setting up long-distance interviews with candidates.
The committee laid out times for interviews, and naturally, our schedules don't overlap nicely. Then I started setting up interviews. The candidates all were very cooperative, and we managed, but some are quite busy with teaching and stuffs, and they can't drop everything for an interview.
I started calling the references on my list. I got hold of one person right away, and they were really excited to talk about the candidate, and it was great. I thought to myself, hey, this is way easier than I thought it would be! Then I tried the next person on the list, and the number took me to a veterinary school person. And I looked on line, and the number I found listed there took me somewhere else. Then I looked on line and called the department office, and they told me that the person wasn't around because classes are already over, and I should email. So I did. And that's pretty much how the rest of my calls went.
When I worked as a receptionist, I learned very quickly to answer the phone "Good [morning/afternoon], [Business Name], how may I help you?" I still do a variation. My calls to different departments and such trying to get hold of referees has reminded me that answering the phone with something more helpful than "yeah" does matter. It also helps if the on-line directory has the right phone numbers. (Fancy Pants U, I'm looking at you about both of those!)
Also, if you're going to set up one of those automatic "out of office" messages, put some words there. I got return emails that were totally empty.
Fortunately, the references are all enthusiastic about their candidates, got in touch, and I've now talked with all but one, and we have an appointment to talk on Monday.
But holy cow, it takes a lot of time.
***
We made some national news outlets this week, and not in a good way. We're in the midst of a variety of political moves, led by our tireless union folks, who can't bargain on our behalf, but are doing good organizing work. Who knows, maybe we'll make the news in a better way next week?
The committee laid out times for interviews, and naturally, our schedules don't overlap nicely. Then I started setting up interviews. The candidates all were very cooperative, and we managed, but some are quite busy with teaching and stuffs, and they can't drop everything for an interview.
I started calling the references on my list. I got hold of one person right away, and they were really excited to talk about the candidate, and it was great. I thought to myself, hey, this is way easier than I thought it would be! Then I tried the next person on the list, and the number took me to a veterinary school person. And I looked on line, and the number I found listed there took me somewhere else. Then I looked on line and called the department office, and they told me that the person wasn't around because classes are already over, and I should email. So I did. And that's pretty much how the rest of my calls went.
When I worked as a receptionist, I learned very quickly to answer the phone "Good [morning/afternoon], [Business Name], how may I help you?" I still do a variation. My calls to different departments and such trying to get hold of referees has reminded me that answering the phone with something more helpful than "yeah" does matter. It also helps if the on-line directory has the right phone numbers. (Fancy Pants U, I'm looking at you about both of those!)
Also, if you're going to set up one of those automatic "out of office" messages, put some words there. I got return emails that were totally empty.
Fortunately, the references are all enthusiastic about their candidates, got in touch, and I've now talked with all but one, and we have an appointment to talk on Monday.
But holy cow, it takes a lot of time.
***
We made some national news outlets this week, and not in a good way. We're in the midst of a variety of political moves, led by our tireless union folks, who can't bargain on our behalf, but are doing good organizing work. Who knows, maybe we'll make the news in a better way next week?
Monday, May 09, 2016
Of All the Skype Accounts, in All the Towns, in All the World . . .
I have a pretty unique name. Face it, how many parents call their kid "Bardiac"? But probably on Skype, there are dozens of me.
I'm setting up skype interviews for our interdisciplinary basketweaving search, and holy cow, finding people can be hard!
I've given everyone my skype name, and several have done the contact thing ahead. Others, I have their exact skype name, and found them.
But just searching a name? Ugh.
This is one of those mornings where I've gotten a lot done, every one of them necessary and important. But I haven't gotten to some of the stuff that's less vital right this second. The thing is, the deadline for grading these papers is approaching, and I really need to get with the program!
I went to my violin teacher's recital yesterday. Holy smokes. I feel sort of bad taking up her time with my beginning skills, you know? (Except she's totally enthusiastic, so that makes me not feel bad.) The music was amazing.
And I went home and practiced my new scale. Because that's where I'm at.
Earlier in the weekend, I went to a studio recital of my teacher's studio. Some of the students were so darned good! One of the students played a song I recognize from the Suzuki Book 1 CD, so I'm guessing their a beginner, just a bit more advanced than I am. And you know what? The student sounded pretty darned good for where their at! They did a good job! That gives me hope!
I'm setting up skype interviews for our interdisciplinary basketweaving search, and holy cow, finding people can be hard!
I've given everyone my skype name, and several have done the contact thing ahead. Others, I have their exact skype name, and found them.
But just searching a name? Ugh.
This is one of those mornings where I've gotten a lot done, every one of them necessary and important. But I haven't gotten to some of the stuff that's less vital right this second. The thing is, the deadline for grading these papers is approaching, and I really need to get with the program!
I went to my violin teacher's recital yesterday. Holy smokes. I feel sort of bad taking up her time with my beginning skills, you know? (Except she's totally enthusiastic, so that makes me not feel bad.) The music was amazing.
And I went home and practiced my new scale. Because that's where I'm at.
Earlier in the weekend, I went to a studio recital of my teacher's studio. Some of the students were so darned good! One of the students played a song I recognize from the Suzuki Book 1 CD, so I'm guessing their a beginner, just a bit more advanced than I am. And you know what? The student sounded pretty darned good for where their at! They did a good job! That gives me hope!
Thursday, May 05, 2016
Finding My Biases in the Job Search
Reading applications makes me think about my own biases. The nature of bias is that you aren't usually aware, but you can work on thinking about biases, and try not to let unfair biases affect your decision making. (Fair biases might include being biased, in this search, against someone who didn't study interdisciplinary basketweaving but somehow is applying to the job.)
In reading these applications, I'm finding that I'm biased against certain institutions which sound, well, "flaky" to me. If someone did their degree at Compass Point State University, I nod. But if someone did their degree at the United Basketweavers Institute, I tend to feel a bit skeptical. I might look it up on the web to make sure it's accredited, for example. Of course, if I were a real Basketweaver, instead of an outsider, I might know that UBI is a superb place to study interdisciplinary basketweaving. Or, I might know that it's not. But as it is, I find myself feeling skeptical.
I also tend to be skeptical of people whose degrees are in basketweaving management, rather than interdisciplinary basketweaving or one of the numerous specialties within basketweaving. I guess someone has to know how to manage basketweaving, but I'm skeptical that that person is ideal for teaching interdisciplinary basketweaving, and theories of interdisciplinary basketweaving, and international interdisciplinary basketweaving.
As a Shakespeare person, I've thought a bit about what Shakespeare people are like. I think we like to think we're hip and such, but we're less hip than medievalists, for sure. (Where hip stands for doing the latest cool theoretical thing.) I think we tend to either like authority, the great chain of being sort of hierarchy, or we fantasize about knocking it down. At least that's the fantasy until we become the authority, or have a fairly high spot on the hierarchy, and then we're as strongly in favor of hierarchy and authority as any Victorianist or Dryden scholar. (I think of Victorianists and 18th century scholars as more hierarchical, with Romanticists pretending to be anti-hierarchical, but secretly being super hierarchical. Obviously, my biases are wrong in many ways. Except the part about medievalists being cool and hip.)
Shakespeare still has a lot of cultural capital, so being a Shakespeare person, you sort of get that. But you also get a negative reaction from people who hated Shakespeare in High School or people who think all Shakespeare people must be stuffy and snooty. (Those same people often think medievalists would be boring and stuffy, but they're wrong, obviously.)
I'm aware of age bias, so I don't look at dates beyond making sure that the applicants are qualified and either have their PhD or are just about there.
I've now read through all the applications, and have put them into our agreed upon groupings based on their qualifications as demonstrated through their letters and such. I really appreciate the applicants who've addressed the qualifications we advertised directly.
In reading these applications, I'm finding that I'm biased against certain institutions which sound, well, "flaky" to me. If someone did their degree at Compass Point State University, I nod. But if someone did their degree at the United Basketweavers Institute, I tend to feel a bit skeptical. I might look it up on the web to make sure it's accredited, for example. Of course, if I were a real Basketweaver, instead of an outsider, I might know that UBI is a superb place to study interdisciplinary basketweaving. Or, I might know that it's not. But as it is, I find myself feeling skeptical.
I also tend to be skeptical of people whose degrees are in basketweaving management, rather than interdisciplinary basketweaving or one of the numerous specialties within basketweaving. I guess someone has to know how to manage basketweaving, but I'm skeptical that that person is ideal for teaching interdisciplinary basketweaving, and theories of interdisciplinary basketweaving, and international interdisciplinary basketweaving.
As a Shakespeare person, I've thought a bit about what Shakespeare people are like. I think we like to think we're hip and such, but we're less hip than medievalists, for sure. (Where hip stands for doing the latest cool theoretical thing.) I think we tend to either like authority, the great chain of being sort of hierarchy, or we fantasize about knocking it down. At least that's the fantasy until we become the authority, or have a fairly high spot on the hierarchy, and then we're as strongly in favor of hierarchy and authority as any Victorianist or Dryden scholar. (I think of Victorianists and 18th century scholars as more hierarchical, with Romanticists pretending to be anti-hierarchical, but secretly being super hierarchical. Obviously, my biases are wrong in many ways. Except the part about medievalists being cool and hip.)
Shakespeare still has a lot of cultural capital, so being a Shakespeare person, you sort of get that. But you also get a negative reaction from people who hated Shakespeare in High School or people who think all Shakespeare people must be stuffy and snooty. (Those same people often think medievalists would be boring and stuffy, but they're wrong, obviously.)
I'm aware of age bias, so I don't look at dates beyond making sure that the applicants are qualified and either have their PhD or are just about there.
I've now read through all the applications, and have put them into our agreed upon groupings based on their qualifications as demonstrated through their letters and such. I really appreciate the applicants who've addressed the qualifications we advertised directly.
Wednesday, May 04, 2016
Dr. Desperate
As I posted before, in "Looking for Dr. Right," I'm on a search committee for a one year job.
Let's imagine, for the sake of this post, that the job is in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We have a fair number of apps from folks with doctorates in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We have some apps from folks with doctorates in, say, underwater basketweaving, with a grad certificate in interdisciplinary basketweaving.
But we also have apps from a couple people in, let's say, tapestry weaving. Their letters say that they're expert tapestry weavers, and thus well-qualified for the job in interdisciplinary basketweaving, because weaving is weaving. Or something.
And it's not that these people aren't smart and good teachers. But they don't have the credential we're looking for.
The letters give me this sense of desperation, of hoping beyond hope that somehow we'll think they're the perfect person for a job in interdisciplinary basketweaving. I remember that desperation from my own job search, and it makes the pit of my stomach ache for them.
What I don't think they realize is that even if no one else applied, we wouldn't be allowed to hire them because they aren't qualified according to our search parameters.
The people with a grad certificate in interdisciplinary basketweaving have that, at least, but they're still not really competitive for the job compared to people who actually did their degree in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We could, conceivably, hire them.
Let's imagine, for the sake of this post, that the job is in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We have a fair number of apps from folks with doctorates in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We have some apps from folks with doctorates in, say, underwater basketweaving, with a grad certificate in interdisciplinary basketweaving.
But we also have apps from a couple people in, let's say, tapestry weaving. Their letters say that they're expert tapestry weavers, and thus well-qualified for the job in interdisciplinary basketweaving, because weaving is weaving. Or something.
And it's not that these people aren't smart and good teachers. But they don't have the credential we're looking for.
The letters give me this sense of desperation, of hoping beyond hope that somehow we'll think they're the perfect person for a job in interdisciplinary basketweaving. I remember that desperation from my own job search, and it makes the pit of my stomach ache for them.
What I don't think they realize is that even if no one else applied, we wouldn't be allowed to hire them because they aren't qualified according to our search parameters.
The people with a grad certificate in interdisciplinary basketweaving have that, at least, but they're still not really competitive for the job compared to people who actually did their degree in interdisciplinary basketweaving. We could, conceivably, hire them.
Monday, May 02, 2016
Correlations of Success
In my lower level courses, I tend to have short writing assignments due over the course of the term. Students have 15-18 opportunities to write these, and need to do 10 of them.
It's not really a predictor, because the semester is almost over, but let's say that there's a serious correlation between people who finish all 10 short assignments and people who do well overall in the courses.
I grade these on a 1-10 scale. And I usually give a few extra credit opportunities, too. So, one student in one of my courses has finished all of the short assignments, and done well on them, and done all three extra credit possibilities. And this student has about 124/100 on that part of the course assignments. And I have a student who's turned in two of the short assignments for a total of 15 or so.
Turn up every day, turn in the work, pay attention and take notes, and you'll probably do well in my courses.
Miss a lot of classes, don't turn in work, and you probably won't do so well. I wish I could convince all my students of those correlations.
The extra credit mostly firms up the grades of those who are already earning good grades. The students who don't do the regular work usually aren't doing enough extra credit to make much difference if they do any at all.
I'm ready for BS excuses to end.
Speaking of showing up to do the work: my little finger needs a lot more practice! I have a continual earworm of the piece I'm working on for violin. It's not the most exciting or beautiful piece, either. Alas. (But I am improving on it, slowly.)
It's not really a predictor, because the semester is almost over, but let's say that there's a serious correlation between people who finish all 10 short assignments and people who do well overall in the courses.
I grade these on a 1-10 scale. And I usually give a few extra credit opportunities, too. So, one student in one of my courses has finished all of the short assignments, and done well on them, and done all three extra credit possibilities. And this student has about 124/100 on that part of the course assignments. And I have a student who's turned in two of the short assignments for a total of 15 or so.
Turn up every day, turn in the work, pay attention and take notes, and you'll probably do well in my courses.
Miss a lot of classes, don't turn in work, and you probably won't do so well. I wish I could convince all my students of those correlations.
The extra credit mostly firms up the grades of those who are already earning good grades. The students who don't do the regular work usually aren't doing enough extra credit to make much difference if they do any at all.
I'm ready for BS excuses to end.
Speaking of showing up to do the work: my little finger needs a lot more practice! I have a continual earworm of the piece I'm working on for violin. It's not the most exciting or beautiful piece, either. Alas. (But I am improving on it, slowly.)
Friday, April 29, 2016
Fourth Finger
I had a violin lesson yesterday, and began learning how to use my fourth finger (my pinky, since violinists don't seem to count thumbs for fingering the strings). It's really hard. Let me say that again, really, really hard. I have to try to super stretch my hand, and press just on the one string, and it's hard!
So I'll practice, and it will get more do-able, I hope. Since other people have done it, and since I've experienced learning difficult things before, I'm pretty confident that I can learn this. Prior experience in life helps.
Last week, Strings took away the tape for my second finger, so all week I was working on trying to get the second finger position right by listening/looking without the tape there. Strings wants me to focus on the tactical feel, especially when the finger comes down next to the third finger.
Broken thirds and arpeggios are especially hard without the second finger tape. And now with the fourth finger in play, and broken thirds and scales being especially valuable to practice for the fourth finger, it's all hard!
And so fun. Did I mention?
So I'll practice, and it will get more do-able, I hope. Since other people have done it, and since I've experienced learning difficult things before, I'm pretty confident that I can learn this. Prior experience in life helps.
Last week, Strings took away the tape for my second finger, so all week I was working on trying to get the second finger position right by listening/looking without the tape there. Strings wants me to focus on the tactical feel, especially when the finger comes down next to the third finger.
Broken thirds and arpeggios are especially hard without the second finger tape. And now with the fourth finger in play, and broken thirds and scales being especially valuable to practice for the fourth finger, it's all hard!
And so fun. Did I mention?
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Going to a Talk in Town
I went to a talk yesterday evening sponsored by a social justice group, and given by a colleague I respect immensely. The talk was held in a newish space, one attached to a small shop associated with a local arts magazine, and was standing room only, which, in this space, probably means 40-50 people showed up (I counted chairs one one side of the room and used that to start my estimate).
The talk was great, as I expected.
What I really noticed, though, were the folks who set things up, the board of the sponsoring group. I recognized a few of them, and know one from a lot of interactions around. The thing is, I wouldn't have guessed she'd be a leader in a social justice group.
Her name is Mildred, and she's an older woman, probably in her 70s, white, always well-dressed in a classy way, who comes to community talks on Shakespeare and such, and who is also friends with another friend of mine, also a retired woman.
The other board members of this group seem also to be mostly women of, shall we say, a certain age.
Of course, these white women have all been active in social justice work for a long time, before the arts magazine started, before my colleague and I were hired here, they've been working, often quietly in the background (as last night), but working nonetheless.
The local arts magazine gets a lot of attention around here, along with related projects. And mostly, all that attention is about men. And they make all the right sounds about social justice.
But in the background, those same women come and go, working as they have for years, with little attention and little credit.
I'm feeling humbled by Mildred and the other women who've been working in my community all this time without my really noticing.
The talk was great, as I expected.
What I really noticed, though, were the folks who set things up, the board of the sponsoring group. I recognized a few of them, and know one from a lot of interactions around. The thing is, I wouldn't have guessed she'd be a leader in a social justice group.
Her name is Mildred, and she's an older woman, probably in her 70s, white, always well-dressed in a classy way, who comes to community talks on Shakespeare and such, and who is also friends with another friend of mine, also a retired woman.
The other board members of this group seem also to be mostly women of, shall we say, a certain age.
Of course, these white women have all been active in social justice work for a long time, before the arts magazine started, before my colleague and I were hired here, they've been working, often quietly in the background (as last night), but working nonetheless.
The local arts magazine gets a lot of attention around here, along with related projects. And mostly, all that attention is about men. And they make all the right sounds about social justice.
But in the background, those same women come and go, working as they have for years, with little attention and little credit.
I'm feeling humbled by Mildred and the other women who've been working in my community all this time without my really noticing.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
That One Hour a Day for Seven Years Thing
I keep reading the claim that if one reads in one's field an hour a day for seven years, one will become an international expert in the field. (I keep reading it all over the place, but I don't know where it originated, so I'm not linking. I'm guessing you've either read it or heard it or could find it with a quick internet search if you look.)
I call BS.
First, it's only 2555 hours. That doesn't get close to Malcolm Gladwell's mythical, minimally supported 10,000 hours to become an expert.
Let's think about, say, grad school. Say someone who's thinking about grad school starts in their junior year of a traditional undergrad program and starts reading, say, literature in English. They average an hour a day reading, more if you count time in class. Certainly, if they're taking 9 credits of lit courses each semester (assuming a semester system), that's, say, 18 hours a week reading and/or discussing, minimally. Even if they don't read much over the summer, they're still doing the hour average.
Then they start grad school, where they'd better be reading more than an hour a day. And they spend five years in grad school.
So there's seven years, reading more than an hour a day. And you know what we call that person? A grad student, a beginning expert. Sure, they know tons. But compared to people who've been doing work in the field for 20 more years, not international experts.
Second, to become an international expert, one doesn't simply read about or learn about a field, one contributes. One gets challenged by other experts at conferences, in papers, in classes, seminars, conversations, and one thinks harder and says something interesting and new.
On the other hand, if you spend 2555 hours learning about something, you're going to learn a whole lot about it, aren't you? So there's that. You may not be an international expert, but hopefully you're using your knowledge to make helpful contributions.
***
I don't usually practice an hour a day on my violin. Usually, it's more like 40 minutes or so before my arms are tired and I get sloppy in that tired way, and my practicing loses focus and becomes less useful.
I've now been at it 12 weeks, and yesterday, I had a tiny breakthrough. I've been playing this piece from the Suzuki book, "Perpetual Motion," which is hard (for me) and at my level includes practicing a lot of "crossings" which are when you change from one string to another.
My tiny breakthrough involved being able to play it better yesterday than I had before, and in three different keys.
At the most basic level, I'm beginning to "get" how violinists can switch between certain keys so much more easily than I ever could when I played wind instruments as a kid. If you start on an open A string, and do a basic A scale, you're in A. You can learn songs (the intro Suzuki songs so far are mostly in A). And then you can do the same basic stuff (same finger positions, same bowings) on the G or D string, and you're in G or D. (I'm totally thinking it's way harder when you move into other hand positions or other keys.)
I don't think 2555 hours of violin is going to make me an expert. It will, I hope, make me a whole lot better than I currently am. But not an expert.
I call BS.
First, it's only 2555 hours. That doesn't get close to Malcolm Gladwell's mythical, minimally supported 10,000 hours to become an expert.
Let's think about, say, grad school. Say someone who's thinking about grad school starts in their junior year of a traditional undergrad program and starts reading, say, literature in English. They average an hour a day reading, more if you count time in class. Certainly, if they're taking 9 credits of lit courses each semester (assuming a semester system), that's, say, 18 hours a week reading and/or discussing, minimally. Even if they don't read much over the summer, they're still doing the hour average.
Then they start grad school, where they'd better be reading more than an hour a day. And they spend five years in grad school.
So there's seven years, reading more than an hour a day. And you know what we call that person? A grad student, a beginning expert. Sure, they know tons. But compared to people who've been doing work in the field for 20 more years, not international experts.
Second, to become an international expert, one doesn't simply read about or learn about a field, one contributes. One gets challenged by other experts at conferences, in papers, in classes, seminars, conversations, and one thinks harder and says something interesting and new.
On the other hand, if you spend 2555 hours learning about something, you're going to learn a whole lot about it, aren't you? So there's that. You may not be an international expert, but hopefully you're using your knowledge to make helpful contributions.
***
I don't usually practice an hour a day on my violin. Usually, it's more like 40 minutes or so before my arms are tired and I get sloppy in that tired way, and my practicing loses focus and becomes less useful.
I've now been at it 12 weeks, and yesterday, I had a tiny breakthrough. I've been playing this piece from the Suzuki book, "Perpetual Motion," which is hard (for me) and at my level includes practicing a lot of "crossings" which are when you change from one string to another.
My tiny breakthrough involved being able to play it better yesterday than I had before, and in three different keys.
At the most basic level, I'm beginning to "get" how violinists can switch between certain keys so much more easily than I ever could when I played wind instruments as a kid. If you start on an open A string, and do a basic A scale, you're in A. You can learn songs (the intro Suzuki songs so far are mostly in A). And then you can do the same basic stuff (same finger positions, same bowings) on the G or D string, and you're in G or D. (I'm totally thinking it's way harder when you move into other hand positions or other keys.)
I don't think 2555 hours of violin is going to make me an expert. It will, I hope, make me a whole lot better than I currently am. But not an expert.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Independent Studies and/vs Sexual Harassment
Last week, The Little Professor wrote in "In Which I Declare Independence" that she disagreed with Rebecca Schuman's Slate article suggesting that universities ban independent studies.
In her beautifully calm way, The Little Professor explains why independent studies are beneficial to students in her program, and not rife with sexual harassment problems, though she does note that most faculty aren't paid for the extra work involved.
Like The Little Professor, I also think independent studies have their place, especially for graduate students. And like The Little Professor, I don't think independent studies are where most sexual harassment or inappropriate behavior are taking place. That's not to say no one has been sexually harassed during an independent study, of course. Rather, most independent studies are times when students can get extra help, delve more deeply into an area of interest, or have a chance to complete their degrees in a more timely way (especially in this era of budget constraints and cancelled courses).
Let me say this: I probably wouldn't have made it through graduate school if it weren't for the kindness of a professor who was willing to do an independent study with me in my second term.
During my first term, I'd taken a course on "The Renaissance" during which the instructor assigned an explication. I'd never done an explication, never heard of one, even. So, like a good little graduate student, I went to office hours. Unfortunately, this one faculty member didn't think it was worth his time to explain what an explication was, and basically told me so. He said, just explain how the verse is doing what it's doing, or something similar.
You should know, about this time in the story, that our program's qualifying exam included an explication which was reputed to be graded rather harshly. And I was supposed to take this exam in the fall of my second year (I think that's the timing).
I asked other grad students, the ones from places where "explication" was a thing, including the one already deemed our crown prince by our Renaissance instructor. But, of course, they were beginning grad students, and even if they could do an explication, they weren't inclined to teach me, or didn't know how. So I muddled through, and didn't do very well on the assignment.
Before the next one was due, I went to another faculty member, one I'd felt comfortable with during my interviews the spring before, and talked to him. And in an hour, he taught me the basics. And on that one, I did much, much better.
And the next term, he agreed to do an independent study with me on reading poetry. Each week, he'd set me a poem, and I'd work it up, and then we'd talk about it together.
I credit that independent study with teaching me how to read poetry, how to explicate, and perhaps most important, how to teach others to read poetry.
So, while I now recognize how much of an imposition my request was on a junior faculty member, I remain eternally grateful for his help, his brilliant teaching, his kindness, and his willingness to take on a rather dim student.
But what about the other side, the sexual harassment? The biggest sexual harassers in my graduate department didn't need independent studies. One was the grad director of our program. So he had power and the ability to call students into his office and wield that power or not (he didn't always, of course).
At mixed social events, the big sexual harassers would start drinking and park themselves at the drink table, and any woman who approached alone was pretty much assured that she'd be harassed. The other male faculty who were hanging about didn't seem to think this was a problem.
Female students complained about both behaviors to other female students and to female faculty, but at the time, only two or three female faculty had tenure, and none was willing to stand up to the male faculty (for all the reasons you could imagine; the same reasons no female student went to the chair or beyond). So the female students got the word out to other female students: no female grad student went to the drink table alone; we went in pairs. And eventually he wasn't grad director any more.
I guess what I'm saying is that sexual harassers don't need independent studies to harass. What they do tend to need is complicity from other faculty members, especially senior faculty folks. I hope my old grad program has changed in that respect. I know there are more senior female faculty.
But some students, people like me, perhaps, really do need some extra help to do well in grad school and beyond.
Now, even as I write this, I have to admit that I've said no to more requests for independent studies than not, especially in recent years. That has to do with the increases in class size, in assessment paperwork, and so on that really force us to stretch our time in all sorts of ways.
In her beautifully calm way, The Little Professor explains why independent studies are beneficial to students in her program, and not rife with sexual harassment problems, though she does note that most faculty aren't paid for the extra work involved.
Like The Little Professor, I also think independent studies have their place, especially for graduate students. And like The Little Professor, I don't think independent studies are where most sexual harassment or inappropriate behavior are taking place. That's not to say no one has been sexually harassed during an independent study, of course. Rather, most independent studies are times when students can get extra help, delve more deeply into an area of interest, or have a chance to complete their degrees in a more timely way (especially in this era of budget constraints and cancelled courses).
Let me say this: I probably wouldn't have made it through graduate school if it weren't for the kindness of a professor who was willing to do an independent study with me in my second term.
During my first term, I'd taken a course on "The Renaissance" during which the instructor assigned an explication. I'd never done an explication, never heard of one, even. So, like a good little graduate student, I went to office hours. Unfortunately, this one faculty member didn't think it was worth his time to explain what an explication was, and basically told me so. He said, just explain how the verse is doing what it's doing, or something similar.
You should know, about this time in the story, that our program's qualifying exam included an explication which was reputed to be graded rather harshly. And I was supposed to take this exam in the fall of my second year (I think that's the timing).
I asked other grad students, the ones from places where "explication" was a thing, including the one already deemed our crown prince by our Renaissance instructor. But, of course, they were beginning grad students, and even if they could do an explication, they weren't inclined to teach me, or didn't know how. So I muddled through, and didn't do very well on the assignment.
Before the next one was due, I went to another faculty member, one I'd felt comfortable with during my interviews the spring before, and talked to him. And in an hour, he taught me the basics. And on that one, I did much, much better.
And the next term, he agreed to do an independent study with me on reading poetry. Each week, he'd set me a poem, and I'd work it up, and then we'd talk about it together.
I credit that independent study with teaching me how to read poetry, how to explicate, and perhaps most important, how to teach others to read poetry.
So, while I now recognize how much of an imposition my request was on a junior faculty member, I remain eternally grateful for his help, his brilliant teaching, his kindness, and his willingness to take on a rather dim student.
But what about the other side, the sexual harassment? The biggest sexual harassers in my graduate department didn't need independent studies. One was the grad director of our program. So he had power and the ability to call students into his office and wield that power or not (he didn't always, of course).
At mixed social events, the big sexual harassers would start drinking and park themselves at the drink table, and any woman who approached alone was pretty much assured that she'd be harassed. The other male faculty who were hanging about didn't seem to think this was a problem.
Female students complained about both behaviors to other female students and to female faculty, but at the time, only two or three female faculty had tenure, and none was willing to stand up to the male faculty (for all the reasons you could imagine; the same reasons no female student went to the chair or beyond). So the female students got the word out to other female students: no female grad student went to the drink table alone; we went in pairs. And eventually he wasn't grad director any more.
I guess what I'm saying is that sexual harassers don't need independent studies to harass. What they do tend to need is complicity from other faculty members, especially senior faculty folks. I hope my old grad program has changed in that respect. I know there are more senior female faculty.
But some students, people like me, perhaps, really do need some extra help to do well in grad school and beyond.
Now, even as I write this, I have to admit that I've said no to more requests for independent studies than not, especially in recent years. That has to do with the increases in class size, in assessment paperwork, and so on that really force us to stretch our time in all sorts of ways.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Mowing
I mowed the lawn today, after most of my neighbors had done theirs.
I don't think I've ever mown so early in the season! SPRING!
I don't think I've ever mown so early in the season! SPRING!
Thursday, April 21, 2016
If Only More Professors...
I was scrolling through my effbee feed this morning, holding off getting up for a few minutes, and saw a video link that said something like: she had to bring her baby to class and you'll never believe what the professor did...
And then of course, what the professor did was utterly believable; he was kind to the baby (and carried it around during his lecture, because he's apparently a baby whisperer).
There were numerous comments after the video, many of which gave little anecdotes about how the writer had needed to take a small child to a class and the professor was somehow especially nice to the child or about the situation, and sometimes that classmates were nice and helpful as well.
And most of these ended with something along the lines of "if only more professors were this nice."
I saw one comment saying that a professor hadn't been nice/accommodating.
The thing is, the overwhelming majority of the anecdotes basically demonstrated that most professors in the situation were, in fact, pretty nice and accommodating. But the "if only" statements would lead you to believe that professorial kindness and accommodation were markedly unusual.
I'm guessing students experience the small child in class situation relatively rarely, so they think that a professor who's nice about it and accommodates the child is, indeed, rare.
Parents of small children who are in college probably experience the situation more often, but perhaps usually with the same professor, so they still think of that professor as the exception?
Instructors experience the situation relatively rarely, mostly (though I imagine at schools with larger non-traditional student populations it happens more often), but still, over the course of several years, we're likely to experience it several times, enough to figure out that we can deal with a small child in the room so long as they're not super disruptive. And perhaps we grow through life stages which lead us to be more accommodating to the difficulties of parenting small children.
***
Speaking of life stages, I recently saw an article (I'm not that motivated to find it again) about how we (middle aged and older female instructors) should eagerly embrace and encourage students to think of us as their grandparents (or grandmothers, more specifically) because students love their grandparents and will look on us with affection and trust and such.
Effing BS. Most students don't need faculty to be grandparents to them. Nor do they need me to be their mommy and wipe their noses. They're ADULTS. We need to treat them as adults, sure, young adults, but adults. Don't infantalize students!
I don't love my students unconditionally. Nope. I respect them as human beings and adults. And the more they demonstrate themselves worthy of respect in whatever ways they do, the more I recognize that they've earned my respect.
And then of course, what the professor did was utterly believable; he was kind to the baby (and carried it around during his lecture, because he's apparently a baby whisperer).
There were numerous comments after the video, many of which gave little anecdotes about how the writer had needed to take a small child to a class and the professor was somehow especially nice to the child or about the situation, and sometimes that classmates were nice and helpful as well.
And most of these ended with something along the lines of "if only more professors were this nice."
I saw one comment saying that a professor hadn't been nice/accommodating.
The thing is, the overwhelming majority of the anecdotes basically demonstrated that most professors in the situation were, in fact, pretty nice and accommodating. But the "if only" statements would lead you to believe that professorial kindness and accommodation were markedly unusual.
I'm guessing students experience the small child in class situation relatively rarely, so they think that a professor who's nice about it and accommodates the child is, indeed, rare.
Parents of small children who are in college probably experience the situation more often, but perhaps usually with the same professor, so they still think of that professor as the exception?
Instructors experience the situation relatively rarely, mostly (though I imagine at schools with larger non-traditional student populations it happens more often), but still, over the course of several years, we're likely to experience it several times, enough to figure out that we can deal with a small child in the room so long as they're not super disruptive. And perhaps we grow through life stages which lead us to be more accommodating to the difficulties of parenting small children.
***
Speaking of life stages, I recently saw an article (I'm not that motivated to find it again) about how we (middle aged and older female instructors) should eagerly embrace and encourage students to think of us as their grandparents (or grandmothers, more specifically) because students love their grandparents and will look on us with affection and trust and such.
Effing BS. Most students don't need faculty to be grandparents to them. Nor do they need me to be their mommy and wipe their noses. They're ADULTS. We need to treat them as adults, sure, young adults, but adults. Don't infantalize students!
I don't love my students unconditionally. Nope. I respect them as human beings and adults. And the more they demonstrate themselves worthy of respect in whatever ways they do, the more I recognize that they've earned my respect.
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