Adventures with Students, vol. 25

Recent responses to my teaching of Book One of the Faerie Queene:

Adventures with students, vol. 24

I had a conference this morning with a female student who shared the following things that have affected her life:

• she lived with her grandparents while both of her brothers were in the hospital with cancer.
• her grandfather was thrown in prison (she didn't say why)
• her elder brother had an aneurysm two years after defeating the cancer, and now lives at home, severely mentally disabled.
• her youngest is in the hospital (an hour away, of course) with RSV.  For the second time.
• she is living with her husband because her mother wants her to try to make it work.
• her younger brother is on drugs.
• her mother has approximately 20% heart function.
• she lost her academic scholarships because of illness.
• her middle child recently got bathroom cleaner in his eyes, which necessitated a trip to the hospital, whereupon she was held in suspicion of child endangerment/abuse.

I don't know how people keep going under those conditions, to say nothing of going to school.  My heart just breaks.

Adventures in parenting, vol. 20

The Kindergartner has a crush.  He doesn't know that's what he has, but he brightens up when she looks his way, he talks about her, and today apparently he told The Runner that he showed her his muscles at school.  The thing is, at church the other day, she walked up to him and his best buddy...and totally ignored him in favor of the other little boy. 

I don't guess we thought we'd be talking about this quite this soon!

Adventures with Students, vol. 23

I like interacting with students--I really do.  I wouldn't be in this profession if I didn't think it was worthwhile and if it didn't bring me a great deal of satisfaction.

There are students who can make a day better all on their own.

And then . . . there are those (and this year it seems like I've had more than my share) whose very voice begins to grate, who do not understand when enough is enough, who provide far too many WTF?!? moments per week.

Today's example:  same student does the following:

1. tells me that he's decided his personal philosophy is "existentialism trumps idealism"
2. gets up and leaves class in the middle of our discussion
3. tells me that I seemed mad today.

Democritus Junior

When I first took this task in hand, et quod ait ille, impellents genio negotium suscepi, this I aimed at; vel ut lenirem animum scribendo, to ease my mind by writing; for I had gravidum cor, foetum caput, a kind of imposthume in my head, which I was very desirous to be unladen of, and could imagine no fitter evacuation than this. Besides, I might not well refrain, for ubi dolor, ibi digitus, one must needs scratch where it itches. I was not a little offended with this malady, shall I say my mistress Melancholy, my Aegeria, or my malus genius? and for that cause, as he that is stung with a scorpion, I would expel clavum clavo, comfort one sorrow with another, idleness with idleness, ut ex vipera Theriacum, make an antidote out of that which was the prime cause of my disease.

--Robert Burton (1638)

Weekend Update, mid-February edition.

If I could teach young students one thing based on the interviews we held this weekend, it's that "making an argument" and "getting in a fight" are not the same thing, especially in an academic context.  Also, that perhaps the entirety of Christian apologetics doesn't rely on one refusing to believe in evolution. 

Nothing is more disgusting to me than a sense of entitlement.  I can have compassion and empathy in response to just about everything else, but not that.

I rode 18 miles outdoors yesterday, taking advantage of the good weather.  I felt absolutely great as I was riding northward to South Fulton . . . and then I turned around and felt the 15 mph wind in my face.  It was a much more difficult ride back home.  Good exercise, and humbling.

For the first time in my career up here in West Tennessee, my family is feeling a financial pinch.  Costs have gone up for food and fuel and insurance and everything else.  Pay hasn't increased even to keep up with inflation, which means I'm making less in real terms than I was five years ago. 

You will note that I am not on strike, however.

Pastor candidate came to preach at the church we are currently attending.  Hearing him speak did not make me very hopeful . . . all the Baptist-style sturm und drang without any real thought to season it.  I recognize that he's a young man (!), and that it was a special (artificial) circumstance, but geez.  I came away feeling like I could have kicked his ass intellectually, and I don't often allow myself that kind of confidence.  I'm not asking for Lancelot Andrewes here, but come on. 

Critical thinking: it's not just for the godless.

The boys played hard yesterday:  spent as much time outside as they did inside.  After eating his two slices of cheese pizza and helping of pears for dinner, Little Red stopped and announced, "I'm sleepy."  Ten minutes later, he was in his bed fast asleep.  The Kindergartner wasn't as anxious to get in bed, but he too fell asleep remarkably quickly.

They watched The Lion King while I was out on my ride.  When I walked in, the film was reaching its climax.  The Kindergartner was standing in the middle of the room, fists clenched, eyes locked on the TV.  My guess is that he was pretty invested in the outcome.

Bicycles May Use Full Lane

Bicycles May Use Full Lane, originally uploaded by richardmasoner.

Bicycles May Use Full Lane / Richard Masoner / CC BY-SA 2.0

I taught Herbert today

he never gets old.

¶    The Pilgrimage.

I Travell’d on, seeing the hill, where lay
                                         My expectation.
                 A long it was and weary way.
                 The gloomy cave of Desperation
I left on th’ one, and on the other side
                                         The rock of Pride.

And so I came to phancies medow strow’d
                                         With many a flower:
                 Fain would I here have made abode,
                 But I was quicken’d by my houre.
So to cares cops1 I came, and there got through
                                         With much ado.

That led me to the wilde of Passion, which
                                         Some call the wold;
                 A wasted place, but sometimes rich.
                 Here I was robb’d of all my gold,
Save one good Angell,2 which a friend had ti’d
                                         Close to my side.

At length I got unto the gladsome hill,
                                         Where lay my hope,
                 Where lay my heart; and climbing still,
                 When I had gain’d the brow and top,
A lake of brackish waters on the ground
                                         Was all I found.

With that abash’d and struck with many a sting
                                         Of swarming fears,
                 I fell, and cry’d, Alas my King!
                 Can both the way and end be tears?
Yet taking heart I rose, and then perceiv’d
                                         I was deceiv’d:

My hill was further: so I flung away,
                                         Yet heard a crie
                 Just as I went, None goes that way
                 And lives: If that be all, said I,
After so foul a journey death is fair,
                                         And but a chair.

The Spirit Level

A new visual motto.

"I've got my own spirit level for balance
To tell if my choice is leading up or down." (Peart)

Put another way, see Ben Jonson's "Epistle Answering to One That Asked to be Sealed of the Tribe of Ben":

I'm sorry, but no...no...no. Just no.

Overly pious friends from the old days at Samford University . . . one of the many reasons I now consider that place as a really mixed blessing.  I don't even know where to start here, other than to say I wasn't really aware that there was a pecking order in how people serve "The Church" (by which I'm sure this guy means the SBC . . . obviously not the Catholics or the Methodists) -- I mean, more than hundreds and thousands of others?  hmmmm?

Bah.  I don't have time for this shit.  De-friend.  I'm not his type of Baptist anyway.

Adventures with Students, vol. 22

These have all happened this week:

1.  Student comes in and wants to know my solution to his "anger problem."
ummmm...medication??

2.  Student asks me for the fourth time about her paper topic, and for the fourth time she seems unable to actually do the topic clearly laid out in the assignment.  Her mother chimes in and helps explain what she's asking about.
this is called cutting off your nose to spite your face...you know that, right?

3.  Student shouts out so many responses in class that I begin having to talk right over her.
a little less enthusiasm kthx.

Party party party

Birthday Cake, 1, 2, 3

October 2005

March 2009

February 2011

Stacks and stacks

I'm fond of pictures of bookcases and bookshelves because my books take up so much of my personal space, both at home and in the office.  The Runner and I were talking the other day about the fact that we just don't seem to have a lot of space or tidiness in our abode.  I pointed out that one of the reasons for that is that every room (save one, and the bathrooms) is full of books.  They line shelves and fill up the space in the end table.  They are scattered all over the floor, crammed in every usable space in the bedroom. 


To make it look nice, I'd need:  enough money to buy a bigger house and get proper shelves built in; the carpentry skills to build my own shelving; or some combination of the two.  Having neither, I spend a lot of time fantasizing. 

Maybe one day.

When he learns the price is pegged to his valuation--

To value oneself properly -- how much depends on seeing oneself with an undistorted view.

--Complains bitterly he is being ruined which, of course, he is.
So kings find it odd they should have a million subjects 
Yet share in the thoughts of none, and seducers 
Are sincerely puzzled at being unable to love 
What they are able to possess--

(Auden, 1944)

Adventures in parenting, vol. 19

The Kindergartner lost his first tooth today.  Not sure why it seemed like such a big moment to me, but there it is.  He was most proud--and glad that it didn't hurt.  He was just horsing around and--whoops!--it dropped right out of his mouth.

Perhaps the tooth fairy visited tonight.

Official notice

I received a copy of the paperwork today; the department committee has unanimously recommended me for both tenure and promotion.  The portfolio now makes its way to the Department Chair, and then the Dean, and then the VCAA, and so on . . . I'm feeling confident that there will be no surprises at those levels.

This is how you know it's me, though:  I read through the documents and thought, "well, good . . . now I need to shore up my scholarship situation and make sure I don't let anyone down.  CONSTANT VIGILANCE"

Yellow Belt

The Hedgehog's Dilemma

Hedgehog's dilemma

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The hedgehog's dilemma, or sometimes the porcupine dilemma, is an analogy about the challenges of human intimacy. It describes a situation in which a group of hedgehogs all seek to become close to one another in order to share their heat during cold weather. However, once accomplished, they cannot avoid hurting one another with their sharp quills. They must step away from one another. Though they all share the intention of a close reciprocal relationship, this may not occur for reasons which they cannot avoid.

Both Arthur Schopenhauer and Sigmund Freud have used this situation to describe what they feel is the state an individual will find themselves in relation to others. The hedgehog's dilemma suggests that despite goodwill, human intimacy cannot occur without substantial mutual harm, and what results is cautious behavior and weak relationships. With the hedgehog's dilemma one is recommended to use moderation in affairs with others both because of self-interest, as well as out of consideration for others. The hedgehog's dilemma is used to justify or explain introversion and isolationism.

In which Piers spends a day at home

Being struck down with some sort of grippe, perhaps a form of influenza, I took the opportunity to stay at home today while it rained & poured & generally blustered outside.  The Runner and all the children were planning to be out of the house all day, so it would be a great chance to actually rest rather than "be home."  There's an important distinction there.

I only napped for 30 minutes, between 3:10 and 3:40 or so.  The rest of the time I spent reading and writing, catching up on one television program, and responding to a few emails.  I kept my rear in the blue recliner for most of that time.  It was extremely restful--even more than one might think, given that I did do some work.  The thing is, the house was quiet.

I find that I crave quiet, and treasure it when I can get it.