A collection of words on work, family, life, Catholicism, and reading.
"Words, words. They're all we have to go on." -Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Back-to-school Reflections
Having rediscovered my old blog while trying to get out some unrelated frustration, I read a post or two about going back to school when back-to-school meant I was going to be teaching and the children were going to be in child care. And while I do miss the newness that is the beginning of the school year, and I hate that the job simply goes on and on and on now, with no beginning, no end, and very little change, I emphatically do not miss the uncertainty of who was to go where, trying to avoid putting the very young children in child care for longer than I thought was good, and the guilt of not doing the things that I thought I should be doing with them while they were young. So looking forward to the beginning of the school year, which starts on August 25th here, I will attempt some reflections.
Doodle and Chiclette, as they were named many years ago on the blog, are now going into 3rd and 1st grade, respectively. Looking at this blog, that's a bit surreal. They are attending a lovely school, where Doodle has been going for 4 years, Chiclette 2. But there are changes afoot! The school has a new principal and a new assistant principal, who will hopefully leave well enough alone. A beloved coach (I can't believe I used those words together) will be a classroom teacher this year. And who knows what else awaits us?
Doodle has many friends from previous years, but each year, several move away. Because it is a college town, and we are living in one of the areas with less stable population, many people graduate and move away. So we already know that at least two of her best friends will not be there in the fall, which is sad. Last year, none of her friends from her previous years were in class with her, which was also a disappointment. Luckily, she makes friends easily. She also has a high tolerance for torment as we learned from her teacher last year when we approached her about a boy who seemed to be tormenting Doodle consistently. She didn't tell the teacher because even if she is annoyed, she does not want to get others in trouble. *sigh*
I worry a bit about Doodle, because she is proficient enough to easily make good grades, but not needy enough to get extra attention. Meaning, she is not always noticed--whether she excels or not. And I worry that she will not be challenged. She did not make G/T last year, though she was placed in an enrichment class (G/T - lite). The gifted and talented program in our school district identifies only children who are academically gifted, and also has to represent all races equally, leaving some to be excluded because of overrepresentation. By 3rd grade, if we do not have her working a year ahead, she will not test into G/T. Last year, her art teacher, who noticed Doodle in particular in Kinder and 1st, did not seem to pay any attention at all to her, which was disappointing. She will do well, and she values that--which is good. She simply doesn't get the recognition she deserves for being smart.
I have enrolled her in 4-H, which is exciting! In June, she took a 1-hour class every weekday for a month in archery. It's a "summer enrichment" in the public school, and both girls were enrolled in 3-4 different classes. She enjoyed the archery, and would like to continue, so we're going to try that out!
Chiclette is involved in the Dual Language program, which is an immersion English/Spanish program for native speakers of both languages. It is inherently challenging, which is good. Again, though, Chiclette flies under the radar a bit. There are high-maintenance children, and she is not. She also seems to learn without much effort. She also did not test into the Gifted program, but by a much closer margin--3 percentage points or thereabouts. What I worry about with her is motivation. She only read 5 or 6 of the take-home readers all year--she simply wasn't interested. And I have a hard time enforcing reading. But she advanced several reading levels nonetheless.
I have some reservations about the Dual Language program. Chiclette is amazingly attuned to language, and needs a challenge, so it is very good for her. But it is literally its own little separate community within the school. The teachers cultivate that--trying to create a bond between the families, in part so that we will have a support network when homework gets difficult, and so that the kids (and parents) will form friendships and will not want to leave the program before the "mandatory" 5 or 6 year commitment. What this means is that there are events for Dual Language only. And what THAT means is that during these events, the children run wild in the school while the parents socialize. I disapprove of both forced socialization with other parents and parent neglect of their ill-behaved children. I also disapprove of the air of priviledge that this gives the teachers, children, and parents in Dual Language. I have a child who is not Dual Language, so I am attuned to the differences. Many of these families--or the non-native speakers of Spanish--are Dual Language "dynasties" with multiple siblings passing through the program. Those parents are very well known, and chat with the teachers at events to the exclusion of newer parents--particularly those who work and have less time to volunteer. These are also the parents who spend summer vacationing in Mexico. I have also been on a field trip with Doodle's grade, during which the Dual Language classes were grouped with Doodle's non-DL class for the field trip. I was unimpressed by the snobbery of the 2nd grade DL teachers, the parents, and the behavior of the children--who were rounded up by whistle at the end of the lunch period because they were "bonding" so vigorously with each other, running all over the lawn. Even more unfortunately, the male DL 2nd grade teacher was arrested later in the year for inappropriate conduct with past students at a different school--which is not the fault of the program, but contributes to the overall bad feeling. However, Chiclette is social, so she does "mingle" with other children at other times--particularly after school.
Perhaps because of Dual Language, Chiclette--unlike Doodle--seems to be completely overlooked by the nonacademic teachers--art and the like. (I get the impression that the DL group is high-maintenance.) Well, the coach I mentioned earlier, seems to like both girls--and seems to be one of the few who links the girls together. Doodle is sunny and friendly. Chiclette is very friendly as well, but she's a little bit wry in her sense of humor, and she will protest things that she doesn't like, and state her opinion (as will Doodle, but differently). You can imagine that I'm proud. But she is devoted to her friends (one in particular!), and adores cute things. Sometimes, it's easy to forget how young she really is when she states that she is "infuriated" by the video game, but then she coos and makes goo-goo eyes because she thinks a baby toy or a stuffed animal is cute. At those times, something inside me cries for her innocence in a fallen world.
In her manner, she resembles her brother, who I believe was unnamed on the blog previously! Hmmm... Big brother is cynical, but makes goo-goo eyes when we watch Too Cute on Animal Planet. He also has a rather encyclopedic knowledge of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, without being a "Brony" (a casualty of babysitting two small girls). He is 17, and entering--drum roll please--12th grade. And that is completely surreal. So we are readying ourselves for college applications--he is trudging a bit, not really comfortable with the unknown, and not really wanting to leave home. He is also staring down about 5 AP courses this year--not a "blow off" year, by any means. I don't expect him to take that many AP tests--those are simply the courses that are available to him. He is entering his eigth year playing the cello, and his third year in Varsity Orchestra. I believe that at this point, music is what interests him the most in school. There have been years when I have felt that orchestra was easily the most valuable thing that he has done during the year. He has also mentioned graphic design and (heaven help us) ENGLISH as possible areas of study, though what English departments have made of literary study is not something I think he would enjoy.
So that's what the year looks like. It is nice to know that they have a routine again, though I dread the routine. I will miss having them at home, because home feels like a territory that I can control, and I hate being out of control. I'm trying not to think of that. I will also miss having lunch at home with them--a little bit of "normal" in my workday. (No, work is not normal. It is completely artificial.) After school, they have an after-school program which is a good program, but it is still too much time away from home. They should ideally be off no later than 3. But in spite of my dissatisfaction and concerns, they long for the other children and for their teachers, so it is a time of excitement for them. And really, I don't want to end on a sad note. It should be exciting. But I'm never quite ready to send them back.
Doodle and Chiclette, as they were named many years ago on the blog, are now going into 3rd and 1st grade, respectively. Looking at this blog, that's a bit surreal. They are attending a lovely school, where Doodle has been going for 4 years, Chiclette 2. But there are changes afoot! The school has a new principal and a new assistant principal, who will hopefully leave well enough alone. A beloved coach (I can't believe I used those words together) will be a classroom teacher this year. And who knows what else awaits us?
Doodle has many friends from previous years, but each year, several move away. Because it is a college town, and we are living in one of the areas with less stable population, many people graduate and move away. So we already know that at least two of her best friends will not be there in the fall, which is sad. Last year, none of her friends from her previous years were in class with her, which was also a disappointment. Luckily, she makes friends easily. She also has a high tolerance for torment as we learned from her teacher last year when we approached her about a boy who seemed to be tormenting Doodle consistently. She didn't tell the teacher because even if she is annoyed, she does not want to get others in trouble. *sigh*
I worry a bit about Doodle, because she is proficient enough to easily make good grades, but not needy enough to get extra attention. Meaning, she is not always noticed--whether she excels or not. And I worry that she will not be challenged. She did not make G/T last year, though she was placed in an enrichment class (G/T - lite). The gifted and talented program in our school district identifies only children who are academically gifted, and also has to represent all races equally, leaving some to be excluded because of overrepresentation. By 3rd grade, if we do not have her working a year ahead, she will not test into G/T. Last year, her art teacher, who noticed Doodle in particular in Kinder and 1st, did not seem to pay any attention at all to her, which was disappointing. She will do well, and she values that--which is good. She simply doesn't get the recognition she deserves for being smart.
I have enrolled her in 4-H, which is exciting! In June, she took a 1-hour class every weekday for a month in archery. It's a "summer enrichment" in the public school, and both girls were enrolled in 3-4 different classes. She enjoyed the archery, and would like to continue, so we're going to try that out!
Chiclette is involved in the Dual Language program, which is an immersion English/Spanish program for native speakers of both languages. It is inherently challenging, which is good. Again, though, Chiclette flies under the radar a bit. There are high-maintenance children, and she is not. She also seems to learn without much effort. She also did not test into the Gifted program, but by a much closer margin--3 percentage points or thereabouts. What I worry about with her is motivation. She only read 5 or 6 of the take-home readers all year--she simply wasn't interested. And I have a hard time enforcing reading. But she advanced several reading levels nonetheless.
I have some reservations about the Dual Language program. Chiclette is amazingly attuned to language, and needs a challenge, so it is very good for her. But it is literally its own little separate community within the school. The teachers cultivate that--trying to create a bond between the families, in part so that we will have a support network when homework gets difficult, and so that the kids (and parents) will form friendships and will not want to leave the program before the "mandatory" 5 or 6 year commitment. What this means is that there are events for Dual Language only. And what THAT means is that during these events, the children run wild in the school while the parents socialize. I disapprove of both forced socialization with other parents and parent neglect of their ill-behaved children. I also disapprove of the air of priviledge that this gives the teachers, children, and parents in Dual Language. I have a child who is not Dual Language, so I am attuned to the differences. Many of these families--or the non-native speakers of Spanish--are Dual Language "dynasties" with multiple siblings passing through the program. Those parents are very well known, and chat with the teachers at events to the exclusion of newer parents--particularly those who work and have less time to volunteer. These are also the parents who spend summer vacationing in Mexico. I have also been on a field trip with Doodle's grade, during which the Dual Language classes were grouped with Doodle's non-DL class for the field trip. I was unimpressed by the snobbery of the 2nd grade DL teachers, the parents, and the behavior of the children--who were rounded up by whistle at the end of the lunch period because they were "bonding" so vigorously with each other, running all over the lawn. Even more unfortunately, the male DL 2nd grade teacher was arrested later in the year for inappropriate conduct with past students at a different school--which is not the fault of the program, but contributes to the overall bad feeling. However, Chiclette is social, so she does "mingle" with other children at other times--particularly after school.
Perhaps because of Dual Language, Chiclette--unlike Doodle--seems to be completely overlooked by the nonacademic teachers--art and the like. (I get the impression that the DL group is high-maintenance.) Well, the coach I mentioned earlier, seems to like both girls--and seems to be one of the few who links the girls together. Doodle is sunny and friendly. Chiclette is very friendly as well, but she's a little bit wry in her sense of humor, and she will protest things that she doesn't like, and state her opinion (as will Doodle, but differently). You can imagine that I'm proud. But she is devoted to her friends (one in particular!), and adores cute things. Sometimes, it's easy to forget how young she really is when she states that she is "infuriated" by the video game, but then she coos and makes goo-goo eyes because she thinks a baby toy or a stuffed animal is cute. At those times, something inside me cries for her innocence in a fallen world.
In her manner, she resembles her brother, who I believe was unnamed on the blog previously! Hmmm... Big brother is cynical, but makes goo-goo eyes when we watch Too Cute on Animal Planet. He also has a rather encyclopedic knowledge of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, without being a "Brony" (a casualty of babysitting two small girls). He is 17, and entering--drum roll please--12th grade. And that is completely surreal. So we are readying ourselves for college applications--he is trudging a bit, not really comfortable with the unknown, and not really wanting to leave home. He is also staring down about 5 AP courses this year--not a "blow off" year, by any means. I don't expect him to take that many AP tests--those are simply the courses that are available to him. He is entering his eigth year playing the cello, and his third year in Varsity Orchestra. I believe that at this point, music is what interests him the most in school. There have been years when I have felt that orchestra was easily the most valuable thing that he has done during the year. He has also mentioned graphic design and (heaven help us) ENGLISH as possible areas of study, though what English departments have made of literary study is not something I think he would enjoy.
So that's what the year looks like. It is nice to know that they have a routine again, though I dread the routine. I will miss having them at home, because home feels like a territory that I can control, and I hate being out of control. I'm trying not to think of that. I will also miss having lunch at home with them--a little bit of "normal" in my workday. (No, work is not normal. It is completely artificial.) After school, they have an after-school program which is a good program, but it is still too much time away from home. They should ideally be off no later than 3. But in spite of my dissatisfaction and concerns, they long for the other children and for their teachers, so it is a time of excitement for them. And really, I don't want to end on a sad note. It should be exciting. But I'm never quite ready to send them back.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Notes on Grading: Pacing Ourselves and Blind Submissions
In my current training position, I adminster two "certificate programs," which are a collection of classes that staff members take in order to develop a certain skill area. The ones I administer develop basic competency in Microsoft Office and more general entry-level competencies for administrative professionals (software and soft skills). The certificate program requires a final project which attempts to bring together and demonstrate the skills that were gained through the classes, while also providing an additional teaching opportunity, since unlike in the classroom, in the real world, a document is not finished until it is presentable. Recently, speaking with the person who previously administered one of my certificate programs, I confessed to her that I was rarely ever busy, and she expressed a great deal of surprise: she was always very busy with the certificate projects. This puzzled me at first. I don't get many projects at a time, and when I put my mind to it, I can get through the components and give feedback very quickly. After all--there's no grade to put on the paper. And then it occurred to me: I am used to this. Much more used to it than she was, since I taught writing, and had to give clear, focused feedback that stressed how to improve--even if the advice was never actually applied.
Thinking about grading, I remember it as the most odious task of teaching. And yet, here I am, skimming quickly through these documents created for the certificate program, giving feedback, receiving resubmissions. The one major difference is volume. There are times, like now, when I do get all three parts of the project at one time, or components from three or four different certificate program participants. But that's it. And really? It's not so bad. I look through them. I tell them what changes to make. I send them back. They get to them whenever they can. This would be the ideal model for online distance learning, though of course I would have to assign grades at some point. But then I wonder--if sitting back and giving feedback is relatively easy, what is it that made grading so odious?
The answer has to be the bulk of essays and the time pressure. I hate to feel pressured, and yet it is necessary for me to feel pressured or I will accomplish nothing but blog posts or Facebook status updates--sad though that is to write. So why not stagger deadlines or feedback sessions? (Feedback sessions were my way of justifying particularly long turnaround times for graded papers. Feedback on the previous paper and the grade would be given along with advice for the next paper during a session of office hours. There would be a sign-up sheet. Sometimes these would replace class for a couple of days.)
This stays with me. Why do we grade papers in bulk? It's the dominant method, but whom does it serve? Not the instructor, who has this mountain of intimidation to face. Even when I was interested in the topics, or looking forward to reading student responses to an assignment, anticipation of the grading marathon inevitably forced me to procrastination.
Does grading in bulk serve the students? This is a harder question, because the grading inevitably becomes sloppier, the comments less helpful, the grades more arbitrary the deeper I get into the stack. And yet, I think one reason that we would not give out papers until everyone's paper had been graded was to maintain the semblence (illusion?) of fairness. But their is always some bias. The more workshops I attend on "subtle bias," and the longer I work in an office around people who are supposed to be aware of their biases, the more I conclude what I already believed--that bias is inevitable. Most of it, however, is personal. There were students whose papers I graded harder, though I didn't mean to, because they were pushing my buttons in class, or because they thought they were smart, or because I knew (and I hated it when teachers did this to me) that they could do better. Maybe I wasn't guilty of each one of these. I certainly did what I could to avoid it, but sometimes perhaps only blind submissions would have prevented it.
Where I failed in grading was usually through the carelessness of exhanustion. The last papers came after the previous papers, and looked either a lot better... or else a lot worse by comparison. I was tired and weary of errors and repetition. My handwriting got sloppy. Inevitably, I had promised these grades by the next day and would catch hell or reproving glances if I did not deliver. My feedback got thin or harsh. And I probably didn't think as much about the grade, perhaps relying solely on my rubric to avoid the unclouded judgment that 2 A.M. (or 30 minutes before class) would not grant.
So given my insight, what would I do differently? Well, for starters, I would like to see papers come in at a trickle rather than in bulk. With a clear head and a clear idea of the objectives of the assignment and how to determine whether those objectives were met, I think the inconsistency of grading would take care of itself without having to "rank" papers and compare A to A and B to B and so on (which I never had time to do anyway, though that was the ideal).
But what about fairness and due dates? In the real world, different people have different deadlines. That's just the way of things. You can't complain of fairness forever, because at some point it breaks down. It could break down here, but there would be a lot of whining. So let's randomize it. Each student gets a number. Numbers 1-5 turn in their papers on the first day. Numbers 6-10 on the second day, and so on. Numbers change with each paper assignment throughout the semester.
And while we're randomizing, keep your name off of your paper! I'll record your name and number separately, and in the meantime, I will grade your paper blind. I won't know whether you're a male writing a feminist paper, a light-skinned person writing about minority issues, a female writing a reactionary paper, and so on; I also won't know whether you're the one who sits up front with the sandals and the ingrown toenail or the smart-aleck who amuses me until you overstep the boundaries. I won't know if you're the one who never says anything or the one who talks incessantly (to your fellow athletes) or texts while I'm talking. And that will be for the better. Unless you talk to me during office hourse about you're paper. Then, I will know you--and that will be to your advantage. So really, it will be like an online class, or like the certificate projects. I will grade gradually, as the papers come in, and I will know nothing about you, or will have forgotten everything I know. So much for bias.
Now, about grading and returning papers--basically, workflow. What would this look like? Ideally, the grading would begin as the papers are submitted. If 5 are submitted on Monday, those 5 should be read and comments written by Wednesday's class--or even by Tuesday. If the grading stops, the papers pile up and the system doesn't work. Since this system is based on an online process, it is well-suited to online feedback, though it could work with paper as well. But stacks of papers bother me more than quantities of email, so I would eschew paper and opt for electronic communication.
And yes, classes go on, and someone still has to teach them. But in between the classes are the office hours, when perhaps someone will grade me with their presence--but perhaps not. And I will grade. Because after all, when you're working 40-hours a week, you're pretty much expected to be productive while the clock is ticking. There would certainly be additional opportunities for flexibility in an academic job as compared to an office job--grading/office hours in the library, for example. The loss would be working in place. The gain would be time to research or write, or do the more pleasurable parts of the job, like reading or prepping, or even *gasp* time to spend with friends and family outside of the grading-teaching time frame (whatever it might be). This is how I would do it.
If it sounds rather like I would be tricking myself into doing work, that's probably accurate. But might there be good pedagogical reasons for this approach?
Let's take grades. So far, I have not mentioned them. Grades could be assessed at the reading and commenting stage. But why? So that I would not have to read another round of the same papers? That is a compelling reason. But it is not making use of the pedagogical potential of the writing assignment. As I mentioned, the certificate projects are additional teaching and learning opportunities. Because, while some people are able to make the leap and apply the concepts and use the tools that they have acquired--or even remember the information--most, in my experience, are not. Why? Because they are lost in their own minds, in their own obligations and job duties. They sit through the classes. They might pick up a thing or two. But if, when they return to their desks, they do not use what they learned, they forget. And so with students. Particularly nontraditional students.
So let's make the first round a learning opportunity. You submit. I read. I comment. I make suggestions. Corrections. I am your boss. This is what I want. You comply, or you will not receive a good evaluation. That is the bottom line. But of course, you are expressing yourself, at least in part, so the liberal educator in me (liberal in the classical sense) will allow for that individual expression insofar as it represents a coherent part of the essay. And then, you will show what you have learned. And I will grade according to what I have seen and according to your final project. I will assess your learning along with your paper. You will move forward. We will move forward together. Ideally, you will receive your paper and your grade at a conference appointment, where we can discuss what else it might take for you to improve. Outline goals. Performance objectives. Blending the workplace with the classroom. Did you know that many human resources degrees are housed in education departments?
I've been working in a department under human resources for too long. It may be that my ideas about teaching are becoming sanitized. Certainly, I only have the leisure to think about this because I am *not* grading 75-150 papers at a time. Undoubtedly. But of the things that are wrong with teaching, I think the utter dread and resentment of grading is a big one. Papers represent an opportunity to teach, and an opportunity to see into the minds of our students. Everyone could stand to take them more seriously. I also know that this model is better for those who are teaching 2-3 classes rather than 5-6. But--isn't that true of every thorough, student-centered method? Not the ones that are designed to take the pressure off the instructor under the guise of a decentered classroom. You know the ones I mean. And yet, I really am thinking about how I would like to do things. I would make the workweek a little bit more like the 8-5 crowd, in order to get what I need to do done more efficiently.
Because you know what? Right now, I would give just about anything to be sitting in an office grading 5 or 10 papers, preparing students for future successes and considering how their minds and their methods are developing in response to what I have set before them. If I could fit that into my 8-5 day, and reflect at home on how I can improve the next day, or the next week, or the next semester... I would gladly be tied to an office 40 hours a week in service of my real vocation.
Thinking about grading, I remember it as the most odious task of teaching. And yet, here I am, skimming quickly through these documents created for the certificate program, giving feedback, receiving resubmissions. The one major difference is volume. There are times, like now, when I do get all three parts of the project at one time, or components from three or four different certificate program participants. But that's it. And really? It's not so bad. I look through them. I tell them what changes to make. I send them back. They get to them whenever they can. This would be the ideal model for online distance learning, though of course I would have to assign grades at some point. But then I wonder--if sitting back and giving feedback is relatively easy, what is it that made grading so odious?
The answer has to be the bulk of essays and the time pressure. I hate to feel pressured, and yet it is necessary for me to feel pressured or I will accomplish nothing but blog posts or Facebook status updates--sad though that is to write. So why not stagger deadlines or feedback sessions? (Feedback sessions were my way of justifying particularly long turnaround times for graded papers. Feedback on the previous paper and the grade would be given along with advice for the next paper during a session of office hours. There would be a sign-up sheet. Sometimes these would replace class for a couple of days.)
This stays with me. Why do we grade papers in bulk? It's the dominant method, but whom does it serve? Not the instructor, who has this mountain of intimidation to face. Even when I was interested in the topics, or looking forward to reading student responses to an assignment, anticipation of the grading marathon inevitably forced me to procrastination.
Does grading in bulk serve the students? This is a harder question, because the grading inevitably becomes sloppier, the comments less helpful, the grades more arbitrary the deeper I get into the stack. And yet, I think one reason that we would not give out papers until everyone's paper had been graded was to maintain the semblence (illusion?) of fairness. But their is always some bias. The more workshops I attend on "subtle bias," and the longer I work in an office around people who are supposed to be aware of their biases, the more I conclude what I already believed--that bias is inevitable. Most of it, however, is personal. There were students whose papers I graded harder, though I didn't mean to, because they were pushing my buttons in class, or because they thought they were smart, or because I knew (and I hated it when teachers did this to me) that they could do better. Maybe I wasn't guilty of each one of these. I certainly did what I could to avoid it, but sometimes perhaps only blind submissions would have prevented it.
Where I failed in grading was usually through the carelessness of exhanustion. The last papers came after the previous papers, and looked either a lot better... or else a lot worse by comparison. I was tired and weary of errors and repetition. My handwriting got sloppy. Inevitably, I had promised these grades by the next day and would catch hell or reproving glances if I did not deliver. My feedback got thin or harsh. And I probably didn't think as much about the grade, perhaps relying solely on my rubric to avoid the unclouded judgment that 2 A.M. (or 30 minutes before class) would not grant.
So given my insight, what would I do differently? Well, for starters, I would like to see papers come in at a trickle rather than in bulk. With a clear head and a clear idea of the objectives of the assignment and how to determine whether those objectives were met, I think the inconsistency of grading would take care of itself without having to "rank" papers and compare A to A and B to B and so on (which I never had time to do anyway, though that was the ideal).
But what about fairness and due dates? In the real world, different people have different deadlines. That's just the way of things. You can't complain of fairness forever, because at some point it breaks down. It could break down here, but there would be a lot of whining. So let's randomize it. Each student gets a number. Numbers 1-5 turn in their papers on the first day. Numbers 6-10 on the second day, and so on. Numbers change with each paper assignment throughout the semester.
And while we're randomizing, keep your name off of your paper! I'll record your name and number separately, and in the meantime, I will grade your paper blind. I won't know whether you're a male writing a feminist paper, a light-skinned person writing about minority issues, a female writing a reactionary paper, and so on; I also won't know whether you're the one who sits up front with the sandals and the ingrown toenail or the smart-aleck who amuses me until you overstep the boundaries. I won't know if you're the one who never says anything or the one who talks incessantly (to your fellow athletes) or texts while I'm talking. And that will be for the better. Unless you talk to me during office hourse about you're paper. Then, I will know you--and that will be to your advantage. So really, it will be like an online class, or like the certificate projects. I will grade gradually, as the papers come in, and I will know nothing about you, or will have forgotten everything I know. So much for bias.
Now, about grading and returning papers--basically, workflow. What would this look like? Ideally, the grading would begin as the papers are submitted. If 5 are submitted on Monday, those 5 should be read and comments written by Wednesday's class--or even by Tuesday. If the grading stops, the papers pile up and the system doesn't work. Since this system is based on an online process, it is well-suited to online feedback, though it could work with paper as well. But stacks of papers bother me more than quantities of email, so I would eschew paper and opt for electronic communication.
And yes, classes go on, and someone still has to teach them. But in between the classes are the office hours, when perhaps someone will grade me with their presence--but perhaps not. And I will grade. Because after all, when you're working 40-hours a week, you're pretty much expected to be productive while the clock is ticking. There would certainly be additional opportunities for flexibility in an academic job as compared to an office job--grading/office hours in the library, for example. The loss would be working in place. The gain would be time to research or write, or do the more pleasurable parts of the job, like reading or prepping, or even *gasp* time to spend with friends and family outside of the grading-teaching time frame (whatever it might be). This is how I would do it.
If it sounds rather like I would be tricking myself into doing work, that's probably accurate. But might there be good pedagogical reasons for this approach?
Let's take grades. So far, I have not mentioned them. Grades could be assessed at the reading and commenting stage. But why? So that I would not have to read another round of the same papers? That is a compelling reason. But it is not making use of the pedagogical potential of the writing assignment. As I mentioned, the certificate projects are additional teaching and learning opportunities. Because, while some people are able to make the leap and apply the concepts and use the tools that they have acquired--or even remember the information--most, in my experience, are not. Why? Because they are lost in their own minds, in their own obligations and job duties. They sit through the classes. They might pick up a thing or two. But if, when they return to their desks, they do not use what they learned, they forget. And so with students. Particularly nontraditional students.
So let's make the first round a learning opportunity. You submit. I read. I comment. I make suggestions. Corrections. I am your boss. This is what I want. You comply, or you will not receive a good evaluation. That is the bottom line. But of course, you are expressing yourself, at least in part, so the liberal educator in me (liberal in the classical sense) will allow for that individual expression insofar as it represents a coherent part of the essay. And then, you will show what you have learned. And I will grade according to what I have seen and according to your final project. I will assess your learning along with your paper. You will move forward. We will move forward together. Ideally, you will receive your paper and your grade at a conference appointment, where we can discuss what else it might take for you to improve. Outline goals. Performance objectives. Blending the workplace with the classroom. Did you know that many human resources degrees are housed in education departments?
I've been working in a department under human resources for too long. It may be that my ideas about teaching are becoming sanitized. Certainly, I only have the leisure to think about this because I am *not* grading 75-150 papers at a time. Undoubtedly. But of the things that are wrong with teaching, I think the utter dread and resentment of grading is a big one. Papers represent an opportunity to teach, and an opportunity to see into the minds of our students. Everyone could stand to take them more seriously. I also know that this model is better for those who are teaching 2-3 classes rather than 5-6. But--isn't that true of every thorough, student-centered method? Not the ones that are designed to take the pressure off the instructor under the guise of a decentered classroom. You know the ones I mean. And yet, I really am thinking about how I would like to do things. I would make the workweek a little bit more like the 8-5 crowd, in order to get what I need to do done more efficiently.
Because you know what? Right now, I would give just about anything to be sitting in an office grading 5 or 10 papers, preparing students for future successes and considering how their minds and their methods are developing in response to what I have set before them. If I could fit that into my 8-5 day, and reflect at home on how I can improve the next day, or the next week, or the next semester... I would gladly be tied to an office 40 hours a week in service of my real vocation.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Discovering my "Strengths"
So my newest foray into introspection and self-analysis has been to take the "Discover Your Strengths" class offered by my department, which is based on the ideas of Donald O. Clifton, and the book Strengths Finder 2.0 by Tom Rath. The book amounts to an explanation of the traits identified by the online quiz, which is not unlike the Myers-Briggs quizzes, but often presented pairs of choices that were difficult or simply didn't fit. However, even with the "Neutral" responses I gave discounted, the results seemed pretty spot-on, and served to explain much of my frustration, and reinforce my opinions of what I want out of my work.
There are other factors, of course. These "Strengths" are "Themes," and "Themes" are clusters of "Talents," which might be described as attributes, inclinations, or affinities. Your "Strengths" derive from (or are developed by--the verbage is fuzzy) the application of Themes and result in near-perfection. As far as I can see, most of mine are innate rather than something that can be developed through practice, but okay. Being geared toward business, and in my setting, toward the development of nonacademic professionals and staff so that they can perform their jobs with more personal satisfaction to the benefit of the university (as cogs in a wheel), what's missing for me is the consideration of what motivates people. Is the exercise of one of your "Themes" motivation in itself? That seems to be the understanding and implication. So while the upshot is to try to maximize your opportunity to do the things that use your strengths, the motivation seems to be "for the good of the department" or "to grow" in some nebulous sort of way. Those don't work for me. Putting myself in the service of others just for the sake of doing so, or to make money or be "part of the team" is not where I blossom--and my strengths sort of attest to that. They don't really lend themselves to utility. Also, making more money by doing what I'm good at doesn't motivate me--so consulting for others, or using my problem solving to help others overcome their obstacles will only make me feel worse, because I'm using what I have for others' benefits. Money is not a benefit in itself, particularly right now.
What strikes me in particular is that my particular strengths are the strength-set of someone higher in the heirarchy, or someone working in those free-flowing, idea-tossing work environments like Pixar and Google--or are the strengths of a self-motivated academic who doesn't have to wait for others in order to execute plans and ideas. I do not work in the former environment, and I do not have the opporunity to be the latter. Everything has to be ratified by someone here, and it takes 6 months or more. Even a Facebook page. By the time the opportunity comes around, I'm bored with the idea--or have realized that I can't tolerate the constraints imposed (like having someone approve every single Facebook post).
What drives me batty is that these "Strengths" or "Themes" are not the same parts of speech, and that some of them are not even real words. If I were conceptualizing something, there would be an element of linguistic consistency!
Take a look. I feel validated in one thing: I am an idea person. No one can take that away. I can see different possible paths and outcomes--which sometimes leads to inaction. I think deeply about things. Thinking fuels my ideas and helps me strategize--so those three are mutually reinforcing. And I want to take action when I have an idea, and bring people along--so when I have to wait, I give up. And when I can't get others involved or exceited, I get frustrated.
Individualization is my favorite, because it takes me into the realm of understanding people rather than ideas and things. It's right in the middle of my 5 strengths (which are drawn from 34 possible labels), and that seems significant somehow. I have always admired people who are able to look at someone, understand their potential, and make things happen so that that person can grow and blossom, performing appropriate work that he or she finds interesting and significant. I have wanted someone to do that for me, but no one ever has. And now I know that I am that person. All of the little things that I notice about people are a strength. And I find that that validates something I believe in--the individuality and uniqueness of people. It was a teaching strength--and since I have matured since I last taught an academic class, it might be more of one now. You learn a lot working with staff. So many faculty never learn to work with people. I could really contribute a lot...
At the bottom of my five is the desire to make things happen--to get things started. And considering my struggle with motivation, this might seem odd. But I don't think so. Motivation carries you through to the end. Sometimes, I'm not interested in the end, because I can clearly see what it will or could be. But mostly, when I have an idea, I want to stop everything and pursue it. If I don't make it to the end, it's probably because there's nothing to tie me to the idea--no professional gain, no sense of being admired, of being heard, or being appreciated or valued, or of being any use to anyone. That can be alienating, and can--and often does--take the wind out of my sails. But it doesn't make me any less excited right at the start. It just makes me move on or give up more quickly.
So yes, this is me, as much as my Myers-Briggs INFP is me, because that places me in the "starry-eyed dreamer" realm as well. And this is why my greatest pleasure is to present ideas and see them take root in others and inspire them to have ideas of their own--my ideas interact with the unique qualities that others possess, and create something new. I need to get back there someday.
Source: http://www.strengthstest.com/theme_summary.php
Ideation® | People strong in the Ideation theme are fascinated by ideas. They are able to find connections between seemingly disparate phenomena. |
StrategicTM | People strong in the Strategic theme create alternative ways to proceed. Faced with any given scenario, they can quickly spot the relevant patterns and issues. |
Individualization® | People strong in the Individualization theme are intrigued with the unique qualities of each person. They have a gift for figuring out how people who are different can work together productively. |
Intellection® | People strong in the Intellection theme are characterized by their intellectual activity. They are introspective and appreciate intellectual discussions. |
Activator® | People strong in the Activator theme can make things happen by turning thoughts into action. They are often impatient. |
IDEATION
The genius of your Ideation talent begins with your love of ideas and the way you so
quickly learn new ideas, concepts, and principles. But you are not passive. It is as if you
take ideas and then begin spinning them around in your mind. With each new idea you
learn, you tend to think about it over and over—spinning it around with the many other
ideas you already have. The result of this thinking, turning, and spinning around of new
ideas with what you already know does two things. First, you generate new connections
and insights about ideas and their implications. Second, the spinning of your ideas often
results in new ideas. Therefore, the genius of the Ideation talent is the creativity of generating new ideas and insights as a result of contemplating and reviewing the ideas
you have learned.
STRATEGIC
The genius of your Strategic talent involves the way you think and generate alternatives.
When faced with a problem or a dilemma you can quickly generate multiple alternatives
to circumvent obstacles that prevent your progress. Sometimes you think in a backwards
manner by first visualizing the outcome you want to produce and then generating
multiple alternative paths to get to that objective. But your genius of Strategic doesn’t
simply begin and end with generating alternatives. The real genius of this strength is
found in the way that you can quickly sort through the various alternative paths and
determine the one that will work best and most efficiently.
INDIVIDUALIZATION
The genius of your Individualization talent is that you see each and every person and a
one of a kind, distinct individual. But more than that, you see the particular factors,
qualities, characteristics, thoughts, and perception that make each person distinct. You
see each person as a mosaic of highly individual factors each of which contribute to a
person’s distinctiveness. This includes both personal qualities and past events that have
formed the person. You are curious about their individual characteristics and you find
yourself thinking and asking questions about what makes each person so distinct. This
results in people feeling special and prized by your attention. But all of this simply lays a
foundation for the genius of your Individualization. Your genius is that armed with all of
this thinking and question asking, you attempt to interact with each person based on their
individual qualities. This leads to meaningful and very helpful relationships.
INTELLECTION
The genius of your Intellection talents stems from the quality of your thinking. You think
about ideas, concepts, and principles in great depth. It is as if you hold discussions in
your mind about ideas, concepts, observations, and new learnings. This results in deep
learning, deep understanding, and deep appreciation for the best knowledge. Out of this
deep processing, you often come to new insights and understandings. But the greatest
aspect of the genius of your intellection is the wisdom that you gain from your in-depth
thinking and internal discussions. You can think by yourself for hours, but never doubt
what results: wisdom, clarity, and a firm foundation for action planning and decision
making.
ACTIVATOR
The genius of your Activator talent begins with the concept of action. You want action
and you can make things happen. Most of all, the genius of your Activator talent gives
you the ability to see how to make things happen. Whereas others have ideas that only
swim around in their minds, you can quickly see how to turn ideas into actions, programs,
and services. This points to the greatest aspect of the genius of your Activator talent. You
are creative and very innovative. Finally, you have a tremendous amount of motivation,
energy, and personal power when it comes to taking an idea and then putting it into
action. You are particularly motivated to be innovative in turning your ideas into action,
programs, and services. You are a dynamo in turning ideas into actions that generate
revolutionary changes.
Source: https://www.apu.edu/strengthsacademy/pdfs/genius_beauty_found_within.pdf
Source: https://www.apu.edu/strengthsacademy/pdfs/genius_beauty_found_within.pdf
Applying Ideation Strengths in Careers
These observations and suggestions will help you consider careers that could best suit Ideation strengths. As you think them over, select those that apply to you best.
- Build on your creativity to find a career that encourages you to think freely and express your ideas.
- Find work in which others like your ideas and in which you are expected to keep learning.
- You will be able to find new and better ways of doing things within the organization.
- Select an organization where the leaders encourage and solicit your divergent thinking, stimulating them to consider some new approaches.
Applying Strategic Strengths in Careers
These observations and suggestions will help you consider careers that could best suit Strategic strengths. As you think them over, select those that apply to you best.
- Consider psychology, as it requires understanding situations and being able to discover or provide effective problem solving.
- A career in law may excite you, as it requires the use of logic to build cases and find creative and effective ways to present them.
- Choose careers that will allow you to be a leader and voice your ideas.
- List the various paths possible in your future so you can give careful thought to each one.
- Consider consulting. The question is, who do you want to consult with, and what do you want them to consult you about?
Applying Individualization Strengths in Careers
These observations and suggestions will help you consider careers that could best suit Individualization strengths. As you think them over, selectthose that apply to you best.
- A career in education would directly use your talents because you would value and treat each student as an individual.
- As a supervisor or manager, you would help individuals determine what they could do what they do best on a regular basis. Your evaluations would be based on who the person is and on what he or she had accomplished.
- Counseling could be a fulfilling role for you. Your ability to see people as distinct individuals will empower them and help them grow.
- Writing a novel would allow you to fully develop the uniqueness of each character.
Applying Intellection Strengths in Careers
These observations and suggestions will help you consider careers that could best suit Intellection strengths. As you think them over, select those that apply to you best.
- Choose work that will challenge you intellectually.
- Choose a work environment that matches your most productive thinking environment. If you think best when it’s quiet, choose a quiet work environment. If working with others stimulates your thinking, choose to work in a team environment.
- Select work where you can share ideas and pose questions.
- Look at careers in which you can interact with colleagues and have philosophical debates.
Applying Activator Strengths in Careers
These observations and suggestions will help you consider careers that could best suit Activator strengths. As you think them over, select those that apply to you best.
- Define what kind of leader you are. A thought leader? A giver of orders? A leader who gives the go-ahead signal? Large group leader?
- Small group leader? A leader with a mission? A profit leader? An athlete leader?
- Identify informal leadership roles within professions, companies, or departments into which you can step. Persuade coworkers that they can increase productivity, solve problems, launch programs, overcome obstacles, and bounce back from defeat.
- Find work that allows you to make your own decisions, and then act upon them.
- Consider becoming your own boss. Make of list of possible businesses you could start, grow, and sell once they show a profit. Understand that you will probably lose interest once an enterprise is so fine-tuned that it runs on its own. Recall how maintaining an operation has led to boredom in the past.
- Choose a career in which “actions speak louder than words” even though your words can propel people into action. Thoroughly research professions, organizations, and companies to identify the ones that are truly results-oriented.
- Understand that some supervisors and managers may feel threatened by your insistence on making decisions and acting without delay.
The Clifton StrengthsFinder and the 34 Clifton StrengthsFinder theme names are protected by copyright of Gallup Inc., 2000. All rights reserved.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Giving Ourselves Over... to Sleep
I find myself seeking out my old blog tonight, after a long, tired day, and a long, tired week, and two nights of lonely, broken sleep, fraught with listening. I rarely sit and reflect on what I'm doing, or how I'm feeling and why. Or I do, but not in a way that is productive--rather, my focus has, for a long time, been on what might have been my profession, and what has not gone as planned. And when I have the rare thought, I am too tired, and chase it away. But perhaps a certain type of exhaustion lends a bit of clarity...
The first time my husband went on a trip to Mexico, I wrote here about my joy on his return. After four years have passed, many trips later, I still find his travel difficult, though differently so. I confessed to him, and I'm afraid that it has not made his leaving any easier, that I find it difficult to decide to go to sleep when he is away. It isn't exactly that I find it difficult to sleep... I simply don't want to take the definitive step in deciding to go to sleep. It is sometimes like this when he is home as well, but I have him to obligate me to sleep. I have my motivation, and my company. In spite of being an introvert, I would rather sit in silence with him than without. But there is more... I dislike being the last person awake in a house at night.
At night, when I am alone and awake, I hear noises. On the first night he was gone this week, it was very windy. When it became clear that my morning obligations were going to require me to submit to sleep, I brought a book to bed that I was too tired to read, and turned on a lamp in my bedroom. Once there, I heard a creak, and thought, first, that my Doodle, now 8 with a bad head cold, had awoken. So I walked our apartment, checking for waking children and opening doors. But everything was as it should be; everyone in his or her bed. So I returned to mine, this time checking email. Again, I heard the creaking. Again, I walked the hall and each room until I was sure that there was nothing wrong. This happened maybe another time or two, and then I decided that the creaking was outside, likely the gate to our small yard, which should be closed tight, but had probably blown open from the wind. It was logical, but not satisfying; I felt vulnerable. In the morning, I discovered that it was not the gate at all.
The second night is always easier. It's not that I get used to being alone at night. Rather, I reassure myself more easily, and fall asleep more quickly, being tired from the first night. Last night, I was tired. I fell asleep shortly after turning on the television. I fell back to sleep after my son said goodnight. I missed a message from my husband. Fortunately, I woke to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and then went to sleep.
Last night, there was a storm. A regular gale, it whipped though the trees, and finally cut the power off. A moment later, Doodle was coughing. With my phone as a light, I found her in the next room, gave her water and medicine, and tucked her in. Then, I lit the way for her to use the bathroom. When I returned her to her bed, she was wide awake--and I was more so. In a moment, her sister was disturbed, though not quire awake. Both were somewhat troubled by the dark. So I brought them with me.
I was, as always when I am worried about them, more relaxed with them near. But I was even more relaxed once the electricity came on, and hour or more later, and slept soundly for two hours at least. And here I am now, unusually awake, not letting myself drift until I am unable to think about hearing sounds in the house, not staying partially awake until the choice of whether or not to abandon control of my surroundings is no longer my own.
Tonight, my son stayed up with me, watching Clue. When he was heading to bed, he, too, heard a creak. It reminded me so much of myself that I smiled a bit. There he was, checking outside. Checking the front door. Checking on his sisters. All was well, as I knew it would be.
Sleep should not be fearful, but I do find it so. To lose consciousness for those hours means relinquishing responsibility--not overseeing the house, abandoning the children to their own sleep, which we are taught from their infancy is a dangerous time. When I go to sleep, again I feel that we are vulnerable. It is, no doubt, a failure of trust--a failure to trust to God that the night and their sleep will continue, unwatched and unlistend-to by me.
But when I am not alone, it is different. We decide, together, to abandon our spaces and our children to sleep. It is a responsibility that must be shared--the responsibility of letting go. I have never thought of sleep as an act of faith, but it is. I have pondered, during these nights, the lines of the children's prayer, "if I should die before I wake..." which has seemed to me both morbid and historically accurate, but which seemed innocent to me as a child, and perhaps comforting. Having more fear of death now, and people to protect, I do not find them as comforting, though they do still carry an innocence. But they carry a deep wisdom: that giving ourselves over to sleep is an act of faith, a trust in God. For me, I am not there yet. It is a leap that I take best when accompanied by the one I love, whom I will see tomorrow. Good night.
The first time my husband went on a trip to Mexico, I wrote here about my joy on his return. After four years have passed, many trips later, I still find his travel difficult, though differently so. I confessed to him, and I'm afraid that it has not made his leaving any easier, that I find it difficult to decide to go to sleep when he is away. It isn't exactly that I find it difficult to sleep... I simply don't want to take the definitive step in deciding to go to sleep. It is sometimes like this when he is home as well, but I have him to obligate me to sleep. I have my motivation, and my company. In spite of being an introvert, I would rather sit in silence with him than without. But there is more... I dislike being the last person awake in a house at night.
At night, when I am alone and awake, I hear noises. On the first night he was gone this week, it was very windy. When it became clear that my morning obligations were going to require me to submit to sleep, I brought a book to bed that I was too tired to read, and turned on a lamp in my bedroom. Once there, I heard a creak, and thought, first, that my Doodle, now 8 with a bad head cold, had awoken. So I walked our apartment, checking for waking children and opening doors. But everything was as it should be; everyone in his or her bed. So I returned to mine, this time checking email. Again, I heard the creaking. Again, I walked the hall and each room until I was sure that there was nothing wrong. This happened maybe another time or two, and then I decided that the creaking was outside, likely the gate to our small yard, which should be closed tight, but had probably blown open from the wind. It was logical, but not satisfying; I felt vulnerable. In the morning, I discovered that it was not the gate at all.
The second night is always easier. It's not that I get used to being alone at night. Rather, I reassure myself more easily, and fall asleep more quickly, being tired from the first night. Last night, I was tired. I fell asleep shortly after turning on the television. I fell back to sleep after my son said goodnight. I missed a message from my husband. Fortunately, I woke to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and then went to sleep.
Last night, there was a storm. A regular gale, it whipped though the trees, and finally cut the power off. A moment later, Doodle was coughing. With my phone as a light, I found her in the next room, gave her water and medicine, and tucked her in. Then, I lit the way for her to use the bathroom. When I returned her to her bed, she was wide awake--and I was more so. In a moment, her sister was disturbed, though not quire awake. Both were somewhat troubled by the dark. So I brought them with me.
I was, as always when I am worried about them, more relaxed with them near. But I was even more relaxed once the electricity came on, and hour or more later, and slept soundly for two hours at least. And here I am now, unusually awake, not letting myself drift until I am unable to think about hearing sounds in the house, not staying partially awake until the choice of whether or not to abandon control of my surroundings is no longer my own.
Tonight, my son stayed up with me, watching Clue. When he was heading to bed, he, too, heard a creak. It reminded me so much of myself that I smiled a bit. There he was, checking outside. Checking the front door. Checking on his sisters. All was well, as I knew it would be.
Sleep should not be fearful, but I do find it so. To lose consciousness for those hours means relinquishing responsibility--not overseeing the house, abandoning the children to their own sleep, which we are taught from their infancy is a dangerous time. When I go to sleep, again I feel that we are vulnerable. It is, no doubt, a failure of trust--a failure to trust to God that the night and their sleep will continue, unwatched and unlistend-to by me.
But when I am not alone, it is different. We decide, together, to abandon our spaces and our children to sleep. It is a responsibility that must be shared--the responsibility of letting go. I have never thought of sleep as an act of faith, but it is. I have pondered, during these nights, the lines of the children's prayer, "if I should die before I wake..." which has seemed to me both morbid and historically accurate, but which seemed innocent to me as a child, and perhaps comforting. Having more fear of death now, and people to protect, I do not find them as comforting, though they do still carry an innocence. But they carry a deep wisdom: that giving ourselves over to sleep is an act of faith, a trust in God. For me, I am not there yet. It is a leap that I take best when accompanied by the one I love, whom I will see tomorrow. Good night.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Teaching Literature and Writing with Meyers-Briggs
1962 - first published instrument
Personal narrative - a standard composition genre since when, exactly?
Problem with personal narrative is that there is no particular shape to the reflection; M-B can provide the shape
Also would work in lit to confront personal preference head on - blog assignments to reflect on how students engage with the text from a perspective of self-awareness informed by M-B
Personal narrative - a standard composition genre since when, exactly?
Problem with personal narrative is that there is no particular shape to the reflection; M-B can provide the shape
Also would work in lit to confront personal preference head on - blog assignments to reflect on how students engage with the text from a perspective of self-awareness informed by M-B
Monday, February 10, 2014
Fiction Book Club Selections for the Training Department
During a break in this morning's team meeting, I had a great idea. Thinking about ways to bring what I love to our department, I thought--wow! Wouldn't it be cool to have a book club! Given the inclinations of the others in the department, though, I would have to find a way to make sure we didn't drift toward nonfiction. I know! We could arrange our selections thematically to correspond with the classes we teach, or topics we promote, or--even better!--to correspond with our "certificate programs," which bring everything together (classes, philosophy, whatever). Unfortuately, when I started brainstorming, this is what happened:
- Web Design - Burning Chrome by William Gobson
- Desktop Publishing - The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot
- Personal Development - The Hunger Games trilogy
- Office Administration - "Bartleby, the Scrivener" by Herman Melville
- Diversity - Beloved by Toni Morrison
- Communication Styles - Ulysses by James Joyce; Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf; The Stranger by Albert Camus
Yeah... Perhaps I'll wait to propose this. Indefinitely.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Doing What you Love. . . Or Not
Lately, this article has been circulating among my friends on Facebook. Titled, "In the Name of Love" and printed first by Jacobin Magazine and then by Slate, the article is a timely response to the job market and unemployment crises. It traces our job angst and the exploitation of professional labor to bad job advice--namely, "do what you love."
Blaming the individual for explotation is a "blaming the victim" model.
1. Graduate and professional programs and the workforce are full of people who are in it for the money.
2. Being saitisfied with your work is an ROI for employers--and not for the reasons you think.
In HR, we focus on knowing your strengths, and helping supervisors identify talent and nurture growth. Why? Because even if the bottom line is not your fulfillment, a satisfied employee is a productive employee.
3. Salaried office jobs are "salaried"--that is, non-hourly--to allow for the employee to work overtime without compensation in order to get projects done. It's not just teachers and academics.
4. Doing what we love on our own time is great in theory, but rarely practical.
5. If we don't do what we love--or at least like--we allow work to kill our souls.
What about a vocation?
Isn't it a little socialist to just do what society requires of us?
Blaming the individual for explotation is a "blaming the victim" model.
1. Graduate and professional programs and the workforce are full of people who are in it for the money.
2. Being saitisfied with your work is an ROI for employers--and not for the reasons you think.
In HR, we focus on knowing your strengths, and helping supervisors identify talent and nurture growth. Why? Because even if the bottom line is not your fulfillment, a satisfied employee is a productive employee.
3. Salaried office jobs are "salaried"--that is, non-hourly--to allow for the employee to work overtime without compensation in order to get projects done. It's not just teachers and academics.
4. Doing what we love on our own time is great in theory, but rarely practical.
5. If we don't do what we love--or at least like--we allow work to kill our souls.
What about a vocation?
Isn't it a little socialist to just do what society requires of us?
--making a job out of what you love is not necessarily the problem--the problem is how you frame "doing what you love."
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