We've had a lot of early interest in our 2012 study abroad trip. Over the summer, about a dozen students emailed the program director requesting more information. My co-leader, Eric, says that several of his students have expressed interest, and many of mine have, too. Today, one of my non-traditional students said to me in class, "oh yeah, I'm going.". She says her 12 year old daughter has a school trip this year to Italy and France, and my student says she simply cannot allow her 12 year old to get to Europe before she does. I wonder if I would have even appreciated a trip to Europe at 12.
Our plans are starting to firm up for the trip, too. Concerned that we'd have big trouble finding accommodations in London during a summer with both the Queen's Jubilee and the Olympics, we went ahead and reserved a block of rooms at a Bloomsbury hostel called The Generator. It all feels a little more real now.
I have such an itch to travel. Summer can't get here fast enough where that is concerned. In the meantime, I have a weekend trip to Louisville planned and an October trip to Chicago to visit a friend. I'm thinking that it might be fun to plan a quick November jaunt to some warm weather national park to mark my 53rd birthday or a trip up north to finally see the gales of November on the queen of all lakes, Superior. Traveling while schools in session would certainly be a new thing, though I don't know if can swing it. If I can't, I'll have a big summer trip to look forward to--hopefully one that I share with Eric and 24 students.
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Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
First Day Recap
My first day of classes was a success, if you don't count my sore feet (wedged into my excuse for heels) and a sore throat (talked my way through two 80 minute classes and one two hour and forty minute class). My writing students are nearly all first years, and they typically show up on day one looking apprehensive but hopeful. It's like they're sitting there saying, "please don't make my head blow off this morning.". I work hard on day one of this class to be friendly and funny and firm. I want them to know that I have high expectations of them, that I'll be making them work hard, but that I'm a sympathetic human being who wants to see them succeed. I think I managed that pretty well the other day.
My afternoon class goes from 2-4:40, and I just don't think that that's anybody's best time of day. Cuts right into siesta time, I think. On top of that, I have a classroom that's stuffy and dimly lit. This is all much more conducive to napping than learning, so changes must be made. Still, the class went well. I have several non-traditional students in this class--many of them no-nonsense working nurses who have returned to college to earn their BSNs. I think they'll be great. The class is Holocaust literature, and while the topic is tough, it's a popular one. I think students come in to a class like this hoping they'll get closer to understanding the Holocaust, and to some extent, they do. As Holocaust historian, Raul Hilberg said, though, in the last analysis, it is " inexplicable.". Maybe that means they'll all leave disappointed on some level. We'll see.
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My afternoon class goes from 2-4:40, and I just don't think that that's anybody's best time of day. Cuts right into siesta time, I think. On top of that, I have a classroom that's stuffy and dimly lit. This is all much more conducive to napping than learning, so changes must be made. Still, the class went well. I have several non-traditional students in this class--many of them no-nonsense working nurses who have returned to college to earn their BSNs. I think they'll be great. The class is Holocaust literature, and while the topic is tough, it's a popular one. I think students come in to a class like this hoping they'll get closer to understanding the Holocaust, and to some extent, they do. As Holocaust historian, Raul Hilberg said, though, in the last analysis, it is " inexplicable.". Maybe that means they'll all leave disappointed on some level. We'll see.
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Friday, September 23, 2011
A Little Lefty
There was a period in grad school when my friends called me Commie Sue. I was writing my dissertation about about writers who belonged to the CPUSA, I was reading lots of Marxist theory, and I was studying labor history. I listened to Utah Phillips, the IWW member, labor organizer, and folk singer, sing old Joe Hill songs. I had a collection of lapel pins that included several that sported Lenin's likeness, one of the Wobblies' Sabo cat, and one with Chinese characters on it that said labor and art. I was a little lefty wannabe.
My life on the far left was a figment of my imagination, but there was a little activist-Sue waiting to get out. When I started teaching at the university in 1998, I was supremely proud of the AAUP membership card that I still carry in my wallet. I felt a little radical somehow. When I got my tenure track job in 2003, I became more involved with the union, and I've been an active member ever since.
Today, I did something brand spanking new. I walked a picket line. Faculty in another AAUP chapter--one at a local community college--are on strike, and I spent a little time with some members of my chapter carrying a sign and walking with them in support. Tonight, I think I'll dig out an old Utah Phillips CD and reminisce about my old lefty self. My activism has turned out to be pretty tame stuff, but you have to do something. Right?
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My life on the far left was a figment of my imagination, but there was a little activist-Sue waiting to get out. When I started teaching at the university in 1998, I was supremely proud of the AAUP membership card that I still carry in my wallet. I felt a little radical somehow. When I got my tenure track job in 2003, I became more involved with the union, and I've been an active member ever since.
Today, I did something brand spanking new. I walked a picket line. Faculty in another AAUP chapter--one at a local community college--are on strike, and I spent a little time with some members of my chapter carrying a sign and walking with them in support. Tonight, I think I'll dig out an old Utah Phillips CD and reminisce about my old lefty self. My activism has turned out to be pretty tame stuff, but you have to do something. Right?
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Thursday, September 22, 2011
First Day Jitters
In a few hours, I'll be back in the classroom after almost nine months away. Away from a US classroom, that is. My short teaching stint in China makes me pretty sure I can still teach, but I have to say, I'm nervous. This, however, is not a new thing. I've been teaching since 1983, and I have low level nervousness on the first day of every single new quarter or semester. It's not a lack of confidence that fuels my jitters, it's just the unknown--all those brand new students--and the excitement.
I love teaching. As far as I'm concerned, it's just plain fun to hang around with college students and talk about big ideas, great books, and good writing. You know, now that I think about it, I think a lot of my first day nervousness comes from my conviction that day one is crucial. I think you have to really interest them on the first day: grab their attention, make them laugh, get them to talk a little, and get them to look forward to coming back. That's a tall order. Too many students arrive with the idea that learning is passive and that all they have to do is sit quietly and receive wisdom. One or two will show up with that "I dare you to teach me" attitude. Thankfully, plenty are eager to participate actively once they see that their ideas won't be laughed at.
The good news is that my nerves go away in about the first two minutes of class. Once I crack a joke that provokes a laugh or say something that makes them lock eyes with me in that way that tells me I have them, I'm fine. I'm sure that after nine months, I still have it. I'll find out soon.
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I love teaching. As far as I'm concerned, it's just plain fun to hang around with college students and talk about big ideas, great books, and good writing. You know, now that I think about it, I think a lot of my first day nervousness comes from my conviction that day one is crucial. I think you have to really interest them on the first day: grab their attention, make them laugh, get them to talk a little, and get them to look forward to coming back. That's a tall order. Too many students arrive with the idea that learning is passive and that all they have to do is sit quietly and receive wisdom. One or two will show up with that "I dare you to teach me" attitude. Thankfully, plenty are eager to participate actively once they see that their ideas won't be laughed at.
The good news is that my nerves go away in about the first two minutes of class. Once I crack a joke that provokes a laugh or say something that makes them lock eyes with me in that way that tells me I have them, I'm fine. I'm sure that after nine months, I still have it. I'll find out soon.
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Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Tweet Tweet
Today, I tweeted. I know that Twitter is an old thing for most of the people I know, but it's brand new to me. I'm guessing that by the time I really get into it, it will be on it's way out. We'll see.
I've also decided that I'm going to try to do some kind of technological new thing every month. I don't feel any need to be on the cutting edge of technology--honestly, I couldn't be if I tried--but I can see how easy it would be to be left behind if I don't at least try to keep up.
I remember how nervous it made my dad when I tried to teach him how to use the word processor a few years before he died. He'd never used a computer in his life, and while he wanted to learn, it was just too overwhelming for him at 84. There are times when I feel that way about new technology, but the good news is that I have plenty of tech-savvy friends and relatives and a kind of hesitant desire to learn. Today I tweet; tomorrow? Who knows!
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I've also decided that I'm going to try to do some kind of technological new thing every month. I don't feel any need to be on the cutting edge of technology--honestly, I couldn't be if I tried--but I can see how easy it would be to be left behind if I don't at least try to keep up.
I remember how nervous it made my dad when I tried to teach him how to use the word processor a few years before he died. He'd never used a computer in his life, and while he wanted to learn, it was just too overwhelming for him at 84. There are times when I feel that way about new technology, but the good news is that I have plenty of tech-savvy friends and relatives and a kind of hesitant desire to learn. Today I tweet; tomorrow? Who knows!
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Saturday, September 17, 2011
Later, Doc
I'm off to see the chiropractor this morning. He's a great guy, good at what he does, but a real bossy-boots about his treatment plan. Of course, that's not necessarily a bad thing in a doctor. I need to be kicked in the pants about taking care of my cranky back. But today I'm determined to tell him that we're finished with this round of treatment. I'll go back if and when my pain comes back. I won't let him get me with his chiropractic manipulation today. Well, you know what I mean.
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, September 15, 2011
A Walk in the Woods
Stress is only a new thing if you've had nine months with very low levels of it. That's my story. It turns out that when I'm not stressed, I'm really happy. I know, that's no big surprise. I don't know anybody who says stress makes them happy. The thing that really bugs me is that when I'm busy, I let go of the things that I know will make me happy far too quickly. I convince myself that it's more important to get my work done. I had a long talk with myself this weekend, and here's what I said, "you will not go into the office. You will take a day off.".
And so I did. On Sunday, I drove west along the river to Shawnee Lookout, one of the 21 parks in the Hamilton County Park system. In my hometown, a park was a stretch of grass, maybe the size of a city block, with a swing set and a basketball court. In Hamilton County, the parks are wonderful: acres and acres of wooded parks with lakes and rivers, hiking trails and bike trails. Shawnee lookout is over 1,500 acres of stress relieving green. I got there just as the rain clouds burst, so I spent my first twenty minutes in my car, but once it cleared, I hit the Blue Jacket trail.
It isn't a long trail--the signage told me it would take me an hour to walk, but I did it in about 40 minutes. The late summer wild flowers were in bloom: spotted touch-me-nots, Jerusalem artichokes, bindweed, and the last purple remains of ironweed.
The trail was pretty, but strange. Every once in awhile, I'd wind by one of those enormous metal lattice towers with power lines stretched through it. And then it was back to the woods and wildflowers.
After my walk in the woods, I stopped at a two room, two story pioneer log cabin in the park. It was built in 1795 by the son of a revolutionary war soldier. A couple of old lady rangers were on site, and between their constant corrections of one another's historical knowledge, they managed to tell me that the cabin had been moved there from Elizabethtown, Ohio, that it had been inhabited by a family of eleven, that the family would have been considered wealthy (two floors+two fireplaces=pioneer wealth). The ladies didn't seem to want me to go--they didn't much seem to like each other--so they just kept making idle conversation with me. They asked them if I'd been walking in the rain, and I told them I'd been in the woods. That set off the arguing again. One ranger told me how dangerous it was to walk alone in the woods. Anything could happen. The other one snapped back that that was ridiculous; she would never be afraid to walk in the woods alone. I left them to their argument and headed to the car.
If you've read other entries in this blog, it won't surprise you to hear that I got lost on the way home. I drove for quite awhile before I figured out where I was, and I finally made it back home, surprisingly destressed after wandering aimlessly in the car. The next day, my friend Margaret lent me a GPS, my second new thing for the month.
Stress relieving new things: that's what I need during this work reentry.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
And so I did. On Sunday, I drove west along the river to Shawnee Lookout, one of the 21 parks in the Hamilton County Park system. In my hometown, a park was a stretch of grass, maybe the size of a city block, with a swing set and a basketball court. In Hamilton County, the parks are wonderful: acres and acres of wooded parks with lakes and rivers, hiking trails and bike trails. Shawnee lookout is over 1,500 acres of stress relieving green. I got there just as the rain clouds burst, so I spent my first twenty minutes in my car, but once it cleared, I hit the Blue Jacket trail.
It isn't a long trail--the signage told me it would take me an hour to walk, but I did it in about 40 minutes. The late summer wild flowers were in bloom: spotted touch-me-nots, Jerusalem artichokes, bindweed, and the last purple remains of ironweed.
The trail was pretty, but strange. Every once in awhile, I'd wind by one of those enormous metal lattice towers with power lines stretched through it. And then it was back to the woods and wildflowers.
After my walk in the woods, I stopped at a two room, two story pioneer log cabin in the park. It was built in 1795 by the son of a revolutionary war soldier. A couple of old lady rangers were on site, and between their constant corrections of one another's historical knowledge, they managed to tell me that the cabin had been moved there from Elizabethtown, Ohio, that it had been inhabited by a family of eleven, that the family would have been considered wealthy (two floors+two fireplaces=pioneer wealth). The ladies didn't seem to want me to go--they didn't much seem to like each other--so they just kept making idle conversation with me. They asked them if I'd been walking in the rain, and I told them I'd been in the woods. That set off the arguing again. One ranger told me how dangerous it was to walk alone in the woods. Anything could happen. The other one snapped back that that was ridiculous; she would never be afraid to walk in the woods alone. I left them to their argument and headed to the car.
If you've read other entries in this blog, it won't surprise you to hear that I got lost on the way home. I drove for quite awhile before I figured out where I was, and I finally made it back home, surprisingly destressed after wandering aimlessly in the car. The next day, my friend Margaret lent me a GPS, my second new thing for the month.
Stress relieving new things: that's what I need during this work reentry.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, September 10, 2011
CPR
Today, I signed up for my October new thing: CPR and First Aid class. I have to take this one credit class to be eligible to lead my study abroad trip next summer. I've led other trips, but this is a relatively new requirement. For me, it's a new thing, for sure. The class will be held on two consecutive Fridays, from 1:30 to 4:30. It'll be fast. I just hope I never, ever have to use the skills I learn in the class. Study abroad is wild enough without adding heart-stopping drama.
September's new thing is still up in the air. There's a little Holocaust museum here in town that I'd like to take my students to sometime, so I think I'll check that out. My new thing naysayers will say this doesn't count, since I've been to many Holocaust museums (I've been to Auschwitz twice, for heaven's sake). Perhaps they're right. I guess I still have several days to figure this out.
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September's new thing is still up in the air. There's a little Holocaust museum here in town that I'd like to take my students to sometime, so I think I'll check that out. My new thing naysayers will say this doesn't count, since I've been to many Holocaust museums (I've been to Auschwitz twice, for heaven's sake). Perhaps they're right. I guess I still have several days to figure this out.
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Saturday, September 3, 2011
Lost
My sense of direction is pitiful. Once, I decided to take an orienteering class to learn how to use a compass and read a topographical map (thought I'd try a little backpacking), and I swear to you, I got hopelessly lost on the way to the class. True story.
I navigate this world with the help of kindly strangers. My usual method, on foot, is to walk a bit, ask a stranger for help, walk a bit more, ask another stranger for help, rinse, and repeat as needed. It generally works just fine. It almost never works in the car, though. Well, sometimes it does. One time in busy downtown Pittsburgh, I stopped traffic when I pulled over a teeny bit to ask a beat cop for directions to the Hilton. He helped point me in the right direction, then I called the hotel on my cell and had them talk me in as I drove. Usually, when I'm lost in the car, I just pretend I'm on a leisurely drive. I look at the scenery, and I hope I see something familiar eventually.
Today, I tried to go to a big warehouse furniture sale at a store in a town east of mine. I took the wrong direction on the loop road around town, so that added about 45 minutes to the drive. When I got to the town, I was totally lost. By the time I thought about asking somebody for directions, I'd lost the will to shop. I bought ice cream and pouted for a while instead. In total, my expedition to nowhere took me 2.5 hours. Clearly, it's time for a GPS. A friend offered to sell me her old one, and I think buying and using it could be my new thing for September. Frankly, I'd like to have it implanted in my brain. I'm perfectly happy to hear voices, as long as they tell me when to turn right or left.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I navigate this world with the help of kindly strangers. My usual method, on foot, is to walk a bit, ask a stranger for help, walk a bit more, ask another stranger for help, rinse, and repeat as needed. It generally works just fine. It almost never works in the car, though. Well, sometimes it does. One time in busy downtown Pittsburgh, I stopped traffic when I pulled over a teeny bit to ask a beat cop for directions to the Hilton. He helped point me in the right direction, then I called the hotel on my cell and had them talk me in as I drove. Usually, when I'm lost in the car, I just pretend I'm on a leisurely drive. I look at the scenery, and I hope I see something familiar eventually.
Today, I tried to go to a big warehouse furniture sale at a store in a town east of mine. I took the wrong direction on the loop road around town, so that added about 45 minutes to the drive. When I got to the town, I was totally lost. By the time I thought about asking somebody for directions, I'd lost the will to shop. I bought ice cream and pouted for a while instead. In total, my expedition to nowhere took me 2.5 hours. Clearly, it's time for a GPS. A friend offered to sell me her old one, and I think buying and using it could be my new thing for September. Frankly, I'd like to have it implanted in my brain. I'm perfectly happy to hear voices, as long as they tell me when to turn right or left.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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