Anxious and Absent

It seems that this semester I have a surprisingly large number of students who are absent a lot for anxiety issues.  I think I don't quite get it, don't quite really understand how difficult their level of anxiety is.  I just want to say, "get your rear in gear and get to class."  But I don't, because I think their issues are way more difficult than I comprehend.

I admit I've sort of lost track of how often their absences are self-reported anxiety.  And how often they're absent without saying anything to me about it.

I have a fairly strict absence policy in my syllabus.  Three unexcused (like official excuses) are okay, and then starting with number four there's a grade penalty.  But I can't figure out how to handle the anxious students when I think they're probably anxious even if they don't email to tell me that.

And what about the other student who've missed classes?  How do I handle them?

And the "I don't feel good" students who miss more than three?  I'm not going to tell students they feel good; how could I?  But I'm also not especially sympathetic about hangovers. 

And then there's the depression problem.  One student told me they were depressed because it was nearing the anniversary of the death of a loved one.  I can see that might make things difficult.  But I really don't know what to do if the person's absent a bunch.

We have presentations around here to help us understand when students have mental health problems, and to try to convince us to be sympathetic and helpful.  But they never really get to what would actually be helpful.  (One of the folks who came to talk to us suggested that it would be a radical new idea to give students a couple of days when they could not come to class if they weren't feeling well; but the three unexcused absences thing is something people were doing back in the bronze age when I was a student.  So not really new or radical.)

I'm no counselor, but I do try to convince students to make an appointment.  And when they tell me nothing's open for three or four weeks?  What do I do?

I need to have a better sense of when what a student needs is to be told to get their rear in gear and when they need something else. 

And I wonder how they're going to manage with a job?  I can't imagine my employer would be especially sympathetic if I suddenly started taking days and days off because I'm not feeling well or am anxious.  I'd run out of sick leave and then?  (My colleagues are amazingly good at stepping up and filling in for folks who are ill or have family responsibilities.  But I think patience would run thin for anxiety or depression problems.)

The Worrying Student

As in, the student I'm worried about, not the student who worries a lot.

I met recently with a student in one of my lower level courses to talk about an assignment based on some readings.  As I looked at what the student has worked on, and talked to the student, I realized that they didn't understand the vocabulary they were reading (this isn't, say, Shakespeare, but modern English, an essay aimed at first year students).  But when they read something aloud, they substituted similar looking (but often different meaning) words, and read along without realizing.

I'm sort of at a loss.  I suggested that the student slow down when they're reading, look up lots of words, and such.  But it seems that lacking a basic vocabulary would make the world incredibly hard to navigate, so I worry about this student not only as a student, but as an adult, trying to work, make decisions, vote, etc.

My understanding is that kids who read a lot tend to develop a way better vocabulary, and that kids who don't, don't develop as strong a vocabulary.  But it seems like the person who already doesn't read a lot is at a double disadvantage; they haven't developed the vocabulary, and they haven't developed the habits that are likely to help them develop a stronger vocabulary.

I don't know quite what to do.  It seems almost punitive to send a note to the central advising office, doesn't it?  I've suggest to everyone in my classes that they make regular use of the writing office, tutoring offices, etc.  Should I make an extra point with this student?

What do you folks do?

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.

Indigenous People's Day

We had a ceremony on campus to honor our local tree.

I think I hadn't quite realized what the tree means, so it was really good for me to learn.  And the ceremony was good (except that the way the Headmaster included our Native American "guests" misrecognized the campus folks who are Native American and aren't "guests" on the campus.  He tried, though, which is more than any other Headmaster here has really done).

Our students really led on this one, and they did a good job!  Yay students!

Substituting, or, Still, the Students

When someone in my department is going to be away, especially if they know ahead, we often try to make plans for someone else to teach their class(es).  If you're suddenly sick, it doesn't work, but if you get diagnosed with, say, flu on Wednesday, then you know you're likely to be out on Monday and Tuesday at least, so you'd try to get some coverage. 

This works best with writing courses because of the way they're set up.  It works okay with lower level lit courses, often enough.

What the sick (or going to be absent) person does is either send an email to the chair or the department list asking for coverage, and giving specific information.  The chair may handle coordinating things if they ask.

So, this week, a colleague needed coverage and the call went out, and I waited part of a day, and then responded, and said I could take one of the classes.  At which point I was added to the emails about who was covering what, and what information we'd need, and so forth.

I'm sort of ashamed every time this sort of thing happens, because by and large, the people who respond with offers to help are our non-tenure track folks, who are teaching 15 hours a semester, and yet somehow find the energy to offer an extra hour or two to help someone else.

There are a few tenured or tenure track colleagues who regularly offer, too, especially one male, who's very helpful in these situations.  Otherwise, mostly women, mostly non-tenured/tenure-track.


So, today I substituted for a first year writing class.  You know all the stereotypes of subbing, and the horrid ways that subs are treated.  Let me tell you what happened in this class.

My colleague had given me information about what they did last, and instructions that they were going to spend their hour working on drafts, and consulting with each other as they found that helpful. 

I went in, made sure I was in the right place, and checked in with them about what they'd done, and yes, she'd talked to them, and then reminded them about what they'd need for the next class meeting.

And then I set them to work.  And they worked.  Some worked on a computer screen with white and text (that is, not a game or anything), some worked on paper.  Some would stop and consult with the student next to them quietly on occasion.  And then they worked some more.  More than a few consulted the text(s) they're using as they worked.

At the 45 minute mark (out of a 50 minute class), they started getting a little wriggly, so I reminded them again about the next meeting, and thanked them.  And they all thanked me and said good bye, or wished me a good afternoon, and packed up and left.

I think my colleague has really pulled this group into something special.  They were just there, doing what was expected.  Now sure, we have generally good students, but the way these students worked and handled things tells me that something good is happening in the course.


On my way back to my office, I got in an elevator with a student who was also going to my floor, and she said that she was a little scared because she was on her way to go see her writing professor for help with a paper, and she'd never done it before, and she was a bit lost, and scared to ask for help.  So I assured her that she was doing exactly the right thing and it would be fine.  And the elevator door opened, and off she went, so I hope it really was a good consultation for her.  But I couldn't help thinking how lovely it was that she was willing to confess to a perfect stranger that she was a little scared.  I think there's something lovely about a young person being willing to be not-jaded, if that makes sense.

Despite all the craziness, our students really are good people who deserve to have good educational opportunities, far better than they often get, and certainly better than they're likely to get around here in the near future.

First Assignment Jitters

I handed out the assignment sheet for the first of four "big" assignments in my first year writing class.

The students are pretty anxious.  They kept asking about weirdly anxious stuff, like if they're in the hospital, can they email the assignment?

What if they're just really sick?

And so on.

I was reminded of an old George Carlin bit about a priest coming in and talking to a class about heavy mysteries, and the class having all these questions.  Carlin's specific example had to do with the need to do the Easter duty (take confession and mass for Easter), and what if you tried, but then this happened, or this happened, and so forth, ending with something about "but then you cross the international date line"!

I finally tried to make clear:  if someone's health or well-being is really at stake, then turn whatever it is in late.

If someone's just drunk or forgot to buy paper, then I'm not going to accept it.


It's hard, isn't it, figuring out what's what when you're entering a whole new situation!

Redemption

A student just dropped in my office hours to ask me why Shakespeare is relevant, why he should take the class other than that it's a requirement for his major.

I'm so very happy right now.  I love that he's asking these sorts of questions and thinking for real.

First Year Students Make me Crazy

Not because they mean to, of course, but just because they do stuff that doesn't work in college contexts.

I started a class by asking for questions about the reading.  A student raised hir hand and said, "I thought the reading was repetitive." 

What do I say to that?  It's not a question, and it reveals a depth of unawareness; does zie think I assigned it to bore hir and not because I thought it might be useful?  (I dealt with it badly, I must admit, because I wasn't prepared for a "it's boring" sort of statement right off.)

Another student came up in the moment I was starting class, stood in front of the whole class (but only talking to me), and told me that zie'd done the assignment wrong.  I always wonder what the question is, because it's not like I'm going to redo the assignment for hir, or suddenly say, it's okay, you don't need to do any assignments for the class!  You get an A for just appearing!  But yes, I know it's because it's the first assignment due, and zie is anxious.

And finally, the number of students who tried to turn in handwritten work (the syllabus states that work must be typed).  (No, I'm not impressed that you quickly wrote this during class discussion.)

All innocent first year student stuff, but in whole, it sort of makes me crazy.

I've come to think that one of the hardest parts about teaching is that just when students get really good at it, they graduate, and we get a whole new bunch who are anxious, confused, and yes, first years.

Survey Says?

I've been working on a project this fall with a student, building off a project he did for a class last spring, which looks at how high school teachers do a specific sort of thing.

We're using a survey, and then following up with interviews if folks are willing.

You know what this means.  Yes, the IRB.  This is a computer survey, so we aren't even worried about possible paper cuts, but of course these things need to get done.  (And while I may sound flip, because I think the risk of harm from our survey is laughably small, I think it's vital that researchers treat human subjects well and with real respect.  The thing is, I think we're held to a higher standard than the people who make you sign a thing when you enter a clinic/hospital saying that they can do anything they like with whatever they find, and if you don't like it, they won't treat you at the clinic/hospital.  We HAVE to include a statement [and take it seriously] that our subjects can opt out without any coercion.)

The student has been doing most of the leg work, with me providing guidance, which is how it should be.  He's done background reading (much of which I found and read over the summer to figure out if such a project might be useful and interesting), done some searching in high school text books, did the IRB certification (I did a re-up on mine, too), and put together the survey.

And then we submitted it, and waited.  And the IRB folks sent it back with some suggested revisions.  So we made those, and resubmitted, and waited.  And then we got to do some more revisions (all of which were helpful), and clarifications.  Then we got the go-ahead.

But then the survey test email was a mess.  It turned out that the way it displayed letterhead made it seem like there was something really bad on the email, so it wouldn't download the letterhead, and therefore also the letter, without a special click.  And since no one is crazy enough to special click something they've received from crazy people at some university, we knew that wouldn't work.

Happily, the student worked with the IT folks here (who are wonderful in all sorts of ways, and great and helpful at solving problems), and voila, it worked, and now it's sent out.

So now we wait to find out!

News from the Professing Front

I went to an awards thing yesterday because one of my students had one an award, and so I was sort of obligated to go.  And I was feeling sort of resentful about it because it's two hours out of the day after an otherwise already full day.

And then I got there, and sat with a colleague and an advisee of mine who also won a prize, and best of all, the advisee's family, dad, grandfather, sibling, and partner.  And it was just delightful how completely proud the dad was, and how the grandfather was close to tears when she accepted her award and spoke about how her project was inspired by her family.  It didn't take long with these folks to change my mood much for the better.

I was proud of my own student, too, and I think I did an okay job explaining her project and the award.  (It wasn't the easiest project from my end, but she really came through with it.)

***

Two of my other students got projects accepted to the student research day presentations.  I'm happy for them, but secretly also thinking about my responsibility to go to another activity.

***

I got several bits of good news the other day, of import mostly to myself, I think.  I had my eyes checked, and they are healthy.  But, I also asked about whether I would be a candidate for Lasik, and the optometrist almost laughed in my face.  She didn't, though, and kindly explained that Lasik is most effective when someone's eye prescription is no more than a minus five.  Mine are around minus ten.  So I guess that's a hard decision I won't have to make.  (I've hesitated totally about the idea of eye surgery, but I was beginning to think that it would be really amazing to go camping and not worry about dealing with contact lenses and also be able to see the stars without then taking my contacts or glasses off.)  Still, I'm stressy about my eyes, and having a positive report on eye health is really great news for me.

My bike is back from the shop where it got its spring tune up, but I haven't gotten out on a ride yet.  It's cold, and there's this job thing, and the awards thing, and so on.  But soon, I hope.

***

I can report that our department search(es) was/were successful, and that we'll have a/some fine new colleague(s) joining our department in the fall.

***

There's this person I know, not really well, but we have contact sometimes in various ways.  The thing is, I keep hearing/reading X complaining about this one sort of problem, and then three months later, I hear/read X complaining about this same sort of problem in a different context, and on and on, for a while now.  And I wonder, hmmm, could it be that X is somehow the source of this sort of problem? 

And then I immediately wonder if I do the same thing myself, complain again and again about a problem and not see that I pretty much bring it on myself?  (I know I've done it in the past, in a pretty serious way.  But I hope I've grown in awareness.)

(Okay, true confession here: I still procrastinate about grading more than I should.  I should have gotten over that by now, right?  Yeah.  Like that.)

What Can I Do?

I got one of those emails today from a student who's missed classes, shown up late without the assignments that were due, and so on.  The other day, zie showed up late, without the homework, and then instead of doing the work the rest of us were doing, sat and did the homework.  (Except, of course, the homework must be typed, because it's homework, and not "sit in class and do this" work.)

Fortunately, it's still pretty early in the semester, so there's plenty zie can do.

It starts with doing the work, and doing it with real attention.  And coming to class, being prepared for quizzes and such.  Here's hoping this student turns things around.


This class is a little weird.  Usually, I don't have problems with students not attending.  I don't grade attendance, but most students realize quickly that being in class is really important and helpful.  But this semester in this class, there are four students whose attendance is iffy at best.  A couple have missed three out of the five quizzes so far. 

I even went so far as to do a handout so that each would have information about how many journals zie as done, how many quizzes, so that they have an opportunity to realize that they've missed stuff.  (I want them to all have the opportunity to realize where they are without lecturing everyone.  Most of the students are doing their work, and they certainly don't need a lecture.  But it doesn't hurt them to get a note saying that they've done five of five journals so far, with a little smiley face.)

But then, of course, several students missed the day when I handed back the notes, and now they've missed two more quiz grades.  OOPS!

First Year Students: So Wonderful Sometimes

My first year students have a short assignment due tomorrow, just a really basic couple of pages of writing that will build into their first real assignment.

So this evening I've answered a number of emails asking for direction about things like where to put the page number.

I love that they're trying so hard. They really want to do things well, you know. I hope I can somehow keep that feeling strong in them and combine it with the confidence to put the page number wherever the heck they want.

Prerequisites and Hoop Jumping

I got an email the other day from a student asking to be added to my senior seminar as an overload. The email talked about the special situation that had made it impossible for the student to enroll in time, so of course I considered it. Part of considering it involved looking up the student's record here to make sure that s/he has the prerequisites and such. There are several prereqs for the class, specifically the lower division core classes for majors. I didn't see any of those classes on the student's record, but maybe the student transfered in and had completed similar classes elsewhere and they just didn't show on our campus record. I emailed the student, asking if s/he'd taken the classes, noting that I'd designed the class with the expectation that all students had taken them, and offering to consider hir request if s/he had taken them.

I got an email back saying that no, s/he hadn't taken them, but was hoping to take the second one without the first, if s/he could convince the professor s/he's smart enough.

Smart enough, of course, isn't the issue. Now, I could go off being all offended that the student doesn't respect professors or think that we actually teach anything in our classes. But I'm sure the student didn't go out of hir way thinking, hey, how can I offend Bardiac today?

I think the student just doesn't understand the point of prerequisites, especially in less linear seeming subjects such as English.

In math, students seem to understand prerequisites: Algebra leads to trig leads to calculus leads to advanced integration or something.

But even in the more sciency areas, things aren't clear. My biology type major required two terms of chemistry before one could enroll in the first biology class. But other schools start with biology. (Mine used chemistry to weed out pre-meds and pre-vets, I think. I wonder how the inter-departmental politics of that worked out?)

But English, well, they've been reading since they were little kids, and they like books, so of course they're prepared for an upper level seminar. Except they're not.

For better or worse, part of the problem is that our lower division core classes aren't generally standardized in the way, say, an Algebra class is. We don't share a "Text studies I" textbook, but choose a variety of texts. Partly it's just that we lack some real agreement (as a field) about what exactly people need to study English. Does an undergrad need theory, and if they do, is Aristotle or Derrida what they should read? Should we require Old English/Anglo-Saxon? How about a Chaucer course? Shakespeare? American Ethnic lit (and if so, which? an overview? or more focused?) How can an English major not know about iambic pentameter? And just who really cares about iambic pentameter? And so on.

But within a department and major, hopefully the faculty has put together a curriculum that gets an English major to what we all really want (I think), a student who's got a certain set of strategies for approaching and thinking/talking/writing about a variety of texts, and a certain level of sophistication about and appreciation for that variety, which probably includes some historical understanding of contexts, and linguistic understanding of the way language works. An individual student can probably get there from a variety of paths, some of which will be more effective for different students, and all of which will leave different students with different depths of understanding.

That's what our faculty have done. We went through a long argumentative process of talking about what we think English majors need to know, and how we can get them to know that, and then we designed some core courses to teach those skills and concepts. We still argue heatedly about those courses, especially the theory course. We've had our new major for about 8 years now, which means that we've had time to see a couple years of students graduate with the new curriculum, and we feel like it's doing a better job. (How to assess that is a more difficult matter.)

But my student emailer doesn't see those discussions, doesn't see what we're trying to do the way we do, and so things look rather arbitrary and a lot like just making people jump hoops.

In a way, I'm that student, too. I hate feeling like I have to jump meaningless hoops to do X or Y. It's hard for me to see sometimes that other people have put in the work to figure out that what I see as a hoop is really useful and necessary.

(Though some meetings feel so like a waste of time that I get really frustrated, especially at this time of year!)

Sap

That's me!

I went to the office the other day to take care of a few office things, and could overhear a colleague doing incoming student advising down the hall. It brought back a flood of memories of my own incoming advising. I remember meeting with an advisor, a professor I eventually took for numerous classes, and one of the profs I really appreciated, even then. We talked about what I had planned to take: chemistry, calculus, a foreign language, and something else? (What was the something else? I can't remember. A Geology class, maybe?)

I remember thinking I wasn't signing up for enough, yet having the sense that Professor R thought I was signing up pretty much for what I could do. And he was right. But also, I got the sense that he was sort of bored; I wonder how many of the same old, same old incoming student schedules he saw with chemistry, calculus, and something or other else? Probably just about every one, with maybe a pre-calculus for variation. Later, taking his classes, I never got sense that he was bored in the least, not when he lectured, not when I asked questions in office hours, and certainly never on our field trips.

I walked over to the English department to get some paperwork done so that I wouldn't have to take the composition class. I never saw the English department there again. Seriously. And that was just the first of many mistakes I made in college. Yes, I had passed whatever preliminary test let me "get out of" taking the writing class, but I would have benefited greatly from actually taking a writing class. (And it's fairly common, if you think about it, that the people who teach college writing never took the class they teach. I guess the same thing is true of folks who teach various lower level math sorts of courses in colleges? I did sit in on a semester writing class when I was doing a certificate in teaching college composition, which is a lot more than most folks, I suppose.)

I remember being so excited, looking at the catalog, thinking of the things I could do. There was a full quarter class offered at a research area, and I dreamed of being able to do that, but never did. (I also never did SCUBA, which would have made sense there. I'd still like to, someday.) And a class on evolution and ecology, which I did end up taking, and loving, probably the single most exciting class in my undergraduate career.

I can't help thinking, when I think of our incoming students, that I hope they love college as much as I did. But I also hope they learn to study more quickly than I did!