Sick.

My head feels like a balloon that is somehow attached to the rest of my body. I can breathe out half of my nose; the other half has the sniffles. I will write a legitimate 5060 blog when I can breathe while sitting up.

Trying to remember why I am here.

I am 21 years old, I am in Graduate school, and my head hurts.

I think that 5060 makes me cranky (then again, it might just be school in general). For every theory that we discuss, I find a problem. For every idea we explore to aid our teaching, I find a problem. In every Freshman Composition paper that I grade, I find a problem.

It might be that I am just tired. It might be that I have started work on my final papers/projects. Or it might be that I am thinking too much about teaching Composition, forgetting that, if I do become a professor, they will eventually let me teach classes that I enjoy.

Whatever it is, I feel particularly inclined to remember why I am here.

All of my "Ohio friends," those in my graduating class in high school and those that I met in college, are still exactly where I left them: beginning their Junior or Senior years of college. Goofing off. Doing stupid things. Posting pictures of themselves, drunk and half-naked, on their Facebook without thinking twice about it.

As it has started to grow "colder" here (keep in mind, it was in the thirties in Ohio this week), I am starting to miss my old house, my old friends. Sitting on the porch swing, wrapped up in my comforter, watching the young ghetto kids walk to the bus stop.

I miss Ella Danger, my one and a half-year-old companion, who, according to her father, has learned some interesting behavior. (She "passionately kissed" her doll the other day.) I miss my four male roommates, who are all between the ages of 19-20 and confused. I miss the local market, Yellow Springs, walking to school. I miss being the "problem-solver," and keeping my friends out of trouble.

So, in light of all of this missing, I have been starting to forget why I am here. In Graduate school. When I could be screwing around with the rest of my friends.

In what should have been my Sophomore year of college, I took a course on Contemporary American Fiction with Thomas Leclair, one of the most enlightening professors to have crossed my path. The course met twice a week, we had in-depth quizzes every day, and it was challenging, to say the least.

One day, during our discussion of Toni Morrison's Paradise, (which I recommend, even if you hated Beloved) Leclair mentioned that he wasn't there to teach us, he was there to learn from us. Above all else, he wanted to think about something that he hadn't thought about before. And he wanted us to inspire this.

It was then that I decided that I would like to be a professor.

I do not think that we are there to teach the students everything. I want to learn from my students. I think we are there to make sure that they think, and that they think enough that they find some new idea, some new thing that they can talk about. I want to inspire my students to inspire me.

I am tired, and confused because it is November and still warm outside. I do not know if I will ever nail down a teaching philosophy, but I think I might have just uncovered a chunk of it. And I'm still not sure if I'm here because this is part of my great "life plan," or if this adventure into Graduate school was just "something to do."

I am feeling very pessimistic.

What should a First Year Composition student come to class knowing?

Sadly, I am assuming that they will come to class knowing very little. Truthfully, they could know a lot. They could have infinite knowledge of English. They could be masters of Composition. They could be zombies, for all I know, because these First Year Composition students, for the most part, are incredibly difficult to read.

We are the in the age of technology. Everything is faster, clearer, better. We have knowledge at our fingertips, but at what cost? It seems like everyone wants to rush through life. The First Year Composition students-- most of them do not want to be in the class. The attitude that I have encountered in grading papers and in participating in one First Year Composition course nearly three years ago is this: Get in, get out.

I used to have the same attitude. I did all of my undergraduate coursework in three years. A few short months after finishing my coursework, I came here. And, if I took classes during next summer, I could graduate half a year early. But at what cost?

I think everyone needs to slow down. If students actually came to class and paid attention to what they were learning, if they slowed down enough to stop checking their text messages, to stop looking at the clock, and to actually listen to their Instructors, then I think that maybe we could evaluate the knowledge that they already have. I think that then, maybe, we could look at "what they come to class knowing."

Until then, I think we are going to continue to encounter rooms at least half filled with students that want to get in and get out as soon as possible. They want to go, get their participation grade, and get back to Facebook. Until that changes, until people actually recognize the value of learning, I don't think it really matters what knowledge they may or may not have.

On Teaching Philosophies.

I think that teaching philosophies directly relate to an individual's thoughts on what the students should be learning from the course. As we discussed in class today, a lot of what students learn and how well they learn depends on the attitude of the instructor. Our classroom discussions and experiences working together in our grading groups has definitely shown that everyone has their own idea on how to teach and how to best reach students. We all have different attitudes toward approaching different subjects, as well as varying opinions on what should be taught.

Take today's discussion for example. Should grammar be taught? We read an article that explains that the evidence does not speak in favor of teaching grammar. It is ineffective, and it seems to be a huge waste of time. For some reason, we still teach it, although no one seems to know why. Some people obviously feel that it is important. I am not one of those people, but I already assume that teaching grammar lessons will be a part of the curriculum wherever I work.

In my mind, philosophy, in this case, is equal to attitude. At least, for a beginning instructor, I think this is somewhat accurate. We have not yet had the ability to figure out exactly which theories and practices are most effective, and we have had very little time, if any, to develop methods. We have an idea as to what we want to do and how we want to do it, but very little knowledge of whether or not it will work.

I think that teaching philosophies involve rapid evolution. As we figure out what works and what does not work, our methods change. This affects our overall philosophy, even if we don't realize it. I also think that there are many different teaching philosophies based on many different theories. Every teacher is different. We all approach our classes in different ways.

Another example: grading. Some people believe that we should encourage our students by rewarding them with decent/good grades even if they have made errors (and, sometimes substantial errors). Others believe that the best way to get a student to learn is to set a bar for them to rise up to, and to correct their errors, penalizing them accordingly. Depending on which side of this argument you agree with, you would have a different approach to teaching and a different philosophy.

Personally, I have no definite idea as to what my teaching philosophy is or will be. I'm interested in figuring that out, but I think the best way to assemble a philosophy is through experience.

Pessimistic and Indecisive: my outlook on politics and the upcoming election

I have decided to deviate from this week's prompt. Before reading this, I offer a warning that this is a political ramble that represents my personal thoughts on politics and the election. Please don't hate me.

It is definitely election season. For a short while I was able to ignore the signs popping up along the roads, and the chatter amongst those around me had not yet turned to politics. It is now October and, as my family does prior to every election, I have started receiving phone calls from various relatives reminding me not only that I need to vote, but who I should support this November.

That in mind, two interesting election-related things happened this week. On Tuesday, in 5060, a classmate of mine expressed her astonishment at a statement that someone had made declaring Barack Obama the "Antichrist." On Wednesday, a neighbor of mine decided to explain how Barack Obama is apparently a terrorist. While the first comment did not surprise me, the second did, and I will later detail the conversation and reasoning offered for such a claim.

I must admit that I find politics and personal political preferences to be both interesting and hilarious. During the Bush/Kerry election of '04, a good friend of mine and her mother were horrified at the possibility of Kerry becoming president. They believed that, were this to happen, the Iraqis would come live in America, and everything would go to hell.

We are constantly told that the majority of people identify with a political party based on how they were raised. Whether it be the influence of some event in their lives, their religious background, or the political preference of their parents, many people choose their affiliation for reasons that are incredibly bizarre and often stupid. Most people will align themselves with the side supported by their family unless they have a substantial reason to deviate from the already decided path.

I keep this idea in mind whenever I think about politics. My mother and the majority of her family are Republican Roman Catholics. Although registered as Independents, they are conservative in their actions and voting decisions, and will probably remain this way for the rest of their lives. My father and his family are politically indifferent. My father tends to support the Democratic candidates and ideas, and the dynamic between my mother and father makes for an interesting election season.

I was in Jr. High when W. was elected for the first time. We were required to align ourselves politically and defend our candidate's views. In keeping with my Catholic school education and my relatively conservative family, I stepped up to bat for Bush. My young mind had been taught that killing unborn babies was wrong, and, believing that the Republicans were the only ones that could solve this inherent problem, I supported them.

Four years later, in the battle of Bush and Kerry, I aligned myself with Kerry. Looking back on it, I'm still not entirely sure why. I was fed up with the Bush administration. I had protested the War in Iraq from the very beginning. It was my senior year in high school and I had friends in the Marines, Navy, Army and Air Force. I had friends planning on shipping out shortly after graduation. I had decided that women deserve a choice regarding their bodies and that making abortion illegal would bring about the problems that existed prior to Roe v. Wade. I had friends who were gay or lesbian and wanted to get married some day. Not that any of this really mattered. I wasn't old enough to vote.

Now, four years later, I am pessimistic and indecisive. As I have tried to explain to my mother after she stated she would not support Obama because he supports abortion, the minor issues do not matter much. I no longer feel comfortable supporting a candidate because they align with my beliefs on issues like abortion, gay marriage, women's rights, or the death penalty. It feels as though each candidate takes an opposing stance on these issues for two reasons: 1) they do have some belief on these situations, but 2) they realize that most people hold these moral points as important and will vote on these issues alone.

The "fundamental" issues aside, there are political problems that I believe need attention. I am incredibly irritated with the continuing War in Iraq for multiple reasons. I believe that George Bush, as well as the mayor of New Orleans and the governor of Louisiana, seriously screwed up during Hurricane Katrina and the situation has not yet been remedied. I think that health care is a problem, and the general system of Social Security both frustrates and confuses me. These are the issues that matter to me. These are the issues that influence my vote.

That said, will any candidate really be able to remedy any of these situations? They could, in the best scenario, attempt to inact some sort of legislature that might influence things in some way. Every time I think about the presidential election and its importance, I remember the statement offered by most: "It's just a figure-head position anyway. They can't do anything unless we support them."

In looking at the debates, statements and positions offered by each candidate it is impossible to tell who will screw up the least. Honestly, in all of the attention that I paid to the Bush/Kerry battle, I did not believe that W. could screw up this bad. Granted, it is unfair to blame the problems of our country on one man, but the War in Iraq definitely did not help. Spending all of the money needed to fund the war did not help. It is my belief that we should be fixing our problems first and in looking at the current economic situation, I don't think that we have effectively done this.

Okay, let's backtrack to the statement offered by my neighbor. Apparently, Barack Obama is a terrorist, and no one knew it. My neighbor bases this statement on no credible information, simply on the fact that Obama's middle name is Hussein, and the idea that his campaign is funded solely or mostly by Afghanistan. I have no idea if either of these statements hold any truth to them, but I highly that they are capable of proving that Obama is a terrorist. The same can be said of declaring Obama as the Antichrist. It is impossible to effectively support this statement. Those that I know who have overheard it have even used the Bible to disprove it.

Now, where exactly am I going with all of these statements? Several places, actually.

One: Voters need to look beyond what they have been taught. You need to look beyond what you have been told and how you have been raised. Instead of listening to what your parents/relatives/religious leaders have told you, look at the "issues," evaluate the problems with our country, and use this to determine where you stand. Pick a candidate not because everyone around you supports that person, but because you really feel like they represent how you feel.

Two: Voters need to effectively determine the weight of an issue. Think about it. Look at the political history of the issue. If it has not changed very much in the past twenty years then it is unlikely to change in the near future. Think about what is important right now. Consider the things that need to be changed immediately. Determine your positions on these issues, and align yourself with the candidate most likely to bring about these changes, even if they may be pro-Choice or anti gay marriage.

I think I now understand voting apathy. It's not that I don't care about the election or the future of my country, but rather that previous leaders have led me to a position where I cannot help but feel pessimistic about the prospect of change. Is it really possible that there is someone out there that does not have their own agenda? Someone who will consider what is best for all of the American people and not just most of them? God, I hope so. I'm pessimistic about it, but God, I hope so.

Avoiding the blog on Theory.

I usually like to complete my blog assignments earlier in the week, but I have spent most of this week avoiding this blog on theory. Admittedly, I am not currently a huge fan of theory. For some reason, I am stuck on practical application when approaching 5060, and I find it difficult to apply most of the theories that we have discussed to the First Year Writing program.

I know, I know. I'm supposed to be thinking about how I will teach and what methods I will use when I am free to torture my students in whatever ways imaginable. But, as I have never actually taught a course, it is difficult for me to move beyond the realm of First Year Writing. And, as we have learned, in such a structured course where the Classroom Instructors only control participation grades and have little control over the structure of their syllabus, it is difficult to completely acknowledge theory as a necessary part of teaching.

My main problem with some theory is this: Something could sound incredibly effective on paper, but, when applied to an actual population, still fail miserably. We discussed this in our1301/1302 lesson-planning workshop last week: One idea may work for one section, but not for an other. Every class has a personality and the Instructor has the delightful task of figuring out what works best for each group of students. In this respect, where do we shove theory?

We discussed in 5060 that learning and commenting on different theories will help give us a better idea of how we want to teach our students. If every group of students is different and needs to be taught in a different way, then it is probable that they will require the practical application of different theories. Or, perhaps, a mixing of theories.

I guess my main concern is this: If someone were to center their teaching style around one particular theory, how would they be prepared to acknowledge and assist the diverse array of students that they would face?

I want to specifically mention that I am not against theory. I have enjoyed, to some extent, reading and discussing the different theories in 5060. And I wholeheartedly think that people should incorporate some sort of theory into their teaching. I just worry that, in looking at the different theories, it would not completely benefit students if we were to approach our classes with one general idea on how to run the show. I feel that we need a diverse appreciation of teaching methods and theories in order to best suit the needs of each individual group.

The Wonderful World of Process.

Oh my. Writing process. Hmm.

My writing process, I have found, is severely enhanced by caffeine. At least, it has been recently. The problem is, I can't drink coffee, and I don't like soda. 80% of the time, I cannot work in complete silence. There has to be some sort of music or noise, a constant noise, otherwise my ears will perk up at every passing car or fly buzzing on the wall. I prefer music, especially Explosions in the Sky, or some other form of instrumental music.

I work better if the internet is far, far away. Yes, it is useful for finding whatever it is that I think I need, but it is also incredibly good at being distracting. In my undergrad, there was a coffee shop that, no matter what, I could not connect my laptop to their wireless. It was awesome! I would haul off to this coffee shop (which was also a bar - score!) and work for hours. Now, I just go sit on my couch. Same effect. Wireless + couch = no. Now, if only the super comfortable couch were not in the same room as the totally awesome DVD collection...

Perhaps I should write about some of my productive process-skills, instead of focusing on my neuroses. I like to write a little every day. Or, a little in the morning, a little in the evening. A few pages here, a few pages there. I am currently completely in love with footnotes and endnotes, so any place where I feel that I need to tie something in, I just add a little note. When preparing for an assignment, I like to set aside a morning to, prior to heading to the library, compile a detailed list of sources and things that I want to look at.

I also like to write a few pages of what I think I am doing and where I think it is going. Sort of a rough version of the assignment, which I will tweak and augment until it is the assignment. For some reason, this usually involves multiple text documents. I may focus on one idea for awhile before switching to another idea, at which point I will find some relevant way to connect these ideas. It really all depends on what I'm writing about and the guidelines of the assignment.

It has dawned on me that, thus far, I have described my writing process for completing academic papers. I guess this makes sense, since I am an American Lit Masters student and not a creative writer, but I do my fair share of creative writing. The process for creative composition is significantly easier for me, as I am usually compelled to write whatever it is I am working on. Something hits me, and I might jot some notes on a piece of paper (usually folded in half and upsidedown) to help me work through the story.

I have never been compelled to write a critical essay. Hopefully, that will happen. Sometime. Maybe.

In writing this entry and responding to a couple of blog posts, I've decided one thing. I'm not sure if process is something we can specifically teach students. Or, rather, I'm not sure process is something that we want to teach students. My process is something that I have come up with entirely on my own. No one "showed me the way." We can, and should, emphasize to students the importance of 1) beginning an assignment ahead of time, 2) prewriting in some fashion, and 3) editing in some way. I think that these are three crucial points that they should incorporate into their individual processes, but I think the rest is up to them.

(I wrote this blog in my office. Which is completely silent. And empty-ish. All I can hear is the sound of the computer, the echoes of voices in the hallway, and my foot tapping.)