We knew it was a long shot

Today was the last day I could expect to receive a phone call asking for an interview at MLA.  Looks like that won't be happening.  I won't receive definitive rejection letters for quite some time, if at all, but the silence is indication enough.  I had an enormous amount of confidence in the Baylor application particularly--the post is one I'm well qualified for, and I would seem to fit their profile.  However, the academic job market being what it is, I'm sure they were snowed under with far more impressive portfolios than mine.  I'm frustrated that I was so unaccountably confident in what amounted to a pipe-dream, but can't dwell on it too much; there is still plenty to do in the coming weeks and months, and there is another job season next Fall.  The Triathlete has been helpful in coming up with all sorts of bright sides to look at, but some of this disappointment I'm just going to have to sit with for a while, especially since it's more than just me I'm concerned about.  Getting the family away from NWTN was always the better part of my motivation. That's still the aim, but it looks like it's going to have to be a longer-term process than I had hoped.

Adventures in Parenting, Vol. 42

After watching several unfortunate things happen in Number One's classroom over the first half of this academic year, we took our concerns to the principal at the elementary school.  My greatest concern is that his teacher appears to be relatively stupid and rigid, and relatively incompetent at math and science. We didn't say those things directly, and we did admit that he is not always the most detail-oriented child in the world, but we made it clear that we don't like the direction of the class.

She defended her teacher to a certain degree, as we expected she would. She also explained that the teacher in question likes to plan everything to the nth degree, and likes to have clearly delineated "black" and "white" areas in her classroom and her teaching.  Which may be a nicer way of saying that she is in fact not the brightest star in the MES sky.

Not sure what difference it will make, but perhaps it serves as a warning shot.  She also offered The Triathlete a spot on her "Parents' Advisory Board," which at least gives us a way to have an advocate more closely associated with the school administration.

Looking backward, forward

That ship has sailed, so to speak

I suppose it's the fate of a person who spends a lot of time studying that he should find it hard to inhabit the present.  At the very least, that's true of me.  I have studied for several hours today, and every line I read about the English Reformation makes me wish I had studied more of this stuff back when I had the resources of UNC at my fingertips.  I guess it's a truism that one doesn't know what one should have studied until one is finished with the project at hand--at least when "the project at hand" is a doctoral thesis.

At any rate, I'm glad I have spent the last several years studying this stuff, even if my progress has been far less speedy than I would like.  Until recently I had been hopeful that I would shortly have the opportunity to spend even more time and energy on it.  That does not seem to be the case anymore, alas.  I'll have to continue picking at it . . . though naturally I'll get to do a lot of picking this next six months.

Research Leave, Day 1

It's all about momentum.  I have plenty of books to read, and plenty of things to write, but they will not get done if I allow myself too much leisure. In other news, this comes along just at the right time.  I was tapped out this past semester, as can be seen by the month-plus between postings on this blog.  I would like to use this forum as a way to keep myself accountable.  To have to report on my progress: maybe it will help.

Fritter away
Prodigalize
Waste
Lose
Dissipate
Misspend
Scatter
Trifle
Lavish
Expend

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Location:"Squander," a partial list of analogues

A new one

Lamotrigine, sold under the name Lamictal.

the new psychiatrist and I decided it would be worth a try to see if it might help with my short temper.  Seriously, I've had a lightning quick fuse the last couple of months.

I don't advise reading all the information about these drugs, but this bit sounds encouraging: Lamotrigine improves mood, alertness, and the way you relate to others.

"So here I am, . . .

  . . . in the middle way, having had twenty years--
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres--
Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate--but there is no competition--
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

(T. S. Eliot, "East Coker," part V)

Say Goodbye to Neverland

It is painful, so painful, even if it's nothing more than that this has run its course.

"Fie, fie, faint hearted knight!"

Today I taught from The Faerie Queene, book 1, Canto 9. In this episode, Redcross Knight has to confront an evil being named Despair. In confronting Despair, Redcross Knight is made to review all his old failures and missteps, and is reminded about things like Justice, and the way cause leads to effect. Everything Despair says is at least nominally true, and intended to convince Redcross Knight that there is no hope.

I point out to the students that this is how despair works: it shows you a version of the truth intended to sap your will to live. And even if you know that it's only giving you part of the story, you still feel the words chill your marrow . . . Because they strike at your deepest fears about yourself and what you deserve.

It takes Una's voice to save Redcross Knight from self-destruction.

Monday Update, time for a change edition

Despite our best efforts, it seems that the time has come to look for another place to live and work. It would take too long to describe all the things that have led us to this point, but I will list a few:

1. My lack of confidence in the administration of my department, college, university, and university system.
2. The Triathlete's recent troubles withe the running club.
3. Our significant misgivings about the elementary school, to say nothing about the ms and hs.
4. We are about to outgrow our house.
5. Mistrust of the leadership at our current church.
6. The town and region are suffocating us.
7. I find that I have to leave work as soon as possible every day for the sake of my sanity.

If it were merely a question of my difficulty at work, I could knuckle down and make it work. But every detail, from home to recreation to work, indicates that a change is necessary. We have been thankful for this place and for what we have experienced as a family...but the well appears to have run dry.

I am looking at the MLA Job Information List to see if there is something I might qualify for, knowing that the opportunities are bound to be slim. It is profoundly unsettling to be in this position. I am thankful that I don't have a replay of the fall of 04--having to apply to everything in sight, guessing I might get a bite somehow. I'm afraid this uncertainty is coloring everything about my performance at work, but what else can I do?

Thank goodness for the old reliable bicycle, and for a couple of trustworthy friends, cause peace of mind is hard to come by right now.

Adventures in Parenting, Vol. 41

We have had an adventure with Number One Son in his current class.  We felt like we were making progress just a few days ago, but then we were thrown a curveball when he felt too sick to attend on Thursday & Friday of last week, and again on Monday morning (he went on Monday anyway).  We have tried to explain to his teacher that he is an introvert and might be more comfortable in some circumstances than in others.  We have also tried to explain to him that he's not always going to be in an ideal environment, so he has to learn to cope with distractions and pressures from others.

His grades have been fine for the most part, and his behavior scores have been fine.  This is a relatively small concern, but it is a concern, especially because we found out yesterday--though not informed officially by anyone at the school--that he was to meet with the school counselor today.  I eagerly await (as does The Triathlete, who happens to be a counselor herself) the official notice of what happened, or (failing that, as seems most likely) his account of what took place.

If they try to recommend drugs or suggest that an introverted personality is somehow a pathology, it will be on.  I'm already pretty low on confidence regarding this place, so it won't take much to set me off.

The good news is that the primary school, where Little Red is in Kindergarten, is a well-run place, and he's having a great time.

Monday Update, Return from Parts East Edition

The trip to Wise, Virginia was a refreshing and inspiring one, as usual.  I am glad I do that every year.  I'm especially glad this year, even though as I've come home I find myself less patient for the various flavors of bullshit I'm forced to taste when I get back to the usual work week:
Item, biting my tongue while the new SS teacher says stuff that's just wrong.
Item, sitting through yet another simplistic sermon.
Item, having my office suite invaded by a banned book reading.

Yes, I know, I'm doing the unthinkable and expressing skepticism about the usefulness of "banned" book readings.  Because of course all right thinking people are against books being "banned" or "challenged" or "questioned" or whatever. You will excuse me while I check on how broad the definition of "banned" or "challenged" is.  Apparently, any book that has ever been questioned in any public forum is now eligible for "banned" status, even though it is ridiculously easy to find copies of said books in any number of online and physical merchants, and many libraries to boot. No legal penalties involved. I even had a student ask me why I didn't read from Shakespeare for the little meeting.  I told her that she should talk to me when Shakespeare is actually banned, i.e., when one can be put in jail for reading the plays.  To suggest that a book may not be useful or appropriate for compulsory reading in a classroom, for instance, is hardly to censor or ban it--in fact, I would welcome those kinds of discussions. Especially when students are put in the position of having to read said work or suffer punitive measures. Isn't that an appropriate thing to discuss? It seems odd to me that academics, teachers, and librarians are some of the most touchy when their practices are questioned. We should be more ready to engage in a discussion about why we do what we do.  But instead, people gather in a little group in a student lounge on a college campus, an older man reads a selection involving a teenage blowjob, and everyone gets to feel good about how much smarter and more daring they are than everyone else.  The smug is palpable, and all the more galling because no one is actually risking anything though they get to claim the frisson of reading! something! banned!

Count me out.  I'll continue to let my children read whatever they wish, and insist that they read some things they'd rather not, and never make a demonstration about my open-mindedness or whatever. And if anyone mentions Areopagitica to me, I'll point out that Milton was quite in favor of after-the-publication censorship, thank you very much...he just didn't like the idea of books having to be licensed.

I think I enjoyed talking with folks on a pretty high level this past weekend, and am not enjoying having to come down off the mountain.

Once the slow start has passed by

 If I were a major league pitcher, I'd be down by at least three runs by the end of the second inning.
If I were a quarterback, I would have turned the ball over twice by the end of the first quarter.
If I were a professional cyclist, I'd be barely ahead of the broom wagon by the first feed zone.
In Jeopardy I'd be down $3000 by the first commercial break.
In Age of Empires I'd be overrun by the Hun before I got an army together.

I'm the slowest starter I know.  Once I get going, I'm alright, but it's a hard slog there for a while.  Every semester is this way--I flounder for like three weeks before I finally have my head in the game.  I think I'm at that point right now; it usually hits right about the time I have to drive eastward for my annual pilgrimage to Jefferson's Dream . . . In the Mountains.

Also, as I begin to think about the remainder of the semester, I wonder how best to spend my time. It's not like I'm short of options.

Monday Update, Soybean Festival Edition

The Runner is now The Triathlete. She came home from her triathlon event as happy as she could be, and she'll be anxious to do it again when the time comes.

Little Red had his first soccer game of the season on Saturday at noon.  He was, predictably, a little unfocused.  It was hot, and lunchtime.  But he is strong and energetic, and he has a good time talking to the others out on the field.  He also doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body.

Since this past week was Soybean Festival week, our days and nights were especially busy. The boys have gotten to the point where they could easily spend $100 on rides and food every night, but have not yet gotten to the point where they understand why we won't allow them to spend $100 on rides and food.

We are getting the impression, as the school year settles into its regular schedule, that Number One Son has a bit of a dud for a teacher.  It is a challenge to figure out what's required of him. We are trying to be constructive right now, but I'm close to going into papa bear mode.

Every couple of months, it's a new challenge! Adulthood doesn't let up . . . not if you're doing it correctly, that is.

This week's Nemesis

Giant Ragweed.

Of which we have a bunch lining the fence row between our yard and the fields behind. 

It feels like I have the flu.  URRGH

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 8

Herewith, the strategic plan of the university system I work for:
1. Enhancing educational excellence
2. Expanding research capabilities
3. Fostering outreach and engagement
4. Ensuring effectiveness and efficiency
5. Advocating for the university
Really. What makes one sad is the amount of effort that went into making a list so . . . tepid.
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I am not a good Baptist, vol. 3

I got fired from my Sunday school teaching role. Let's hope that's not an indicator for my other teaching jobs!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Piers is not a joiner

The Runner has a circle of friends due to all her running and triathlon business.  This group includes a number of dudes who get together in the early mornings to do training rides on their bikes.  They invite me, but I always refuse.

I was invited to a Rotary Club meeting this past Wednesday.  The colleague extending the invitation told me it was because he had met my dad at many meetings.  I was happy to inform him that he had the wrong Hill.

The church has all sorts of activities to show up at, and I always find a reason to not go.

There are returning students who are happy to come sit and talk to me.  I am avoiding them.

In reality, I find most communities tiresome. 

Evangelical culture is vapid. I watch with dismay as church after church gets caught up in trends that are 10-15 years old, dressed up in new holy jargon. I watch as we are offered more and more opportunities to spend all our time up at the church house, necessarily taking us away from time with our families and taking the children away from the directionless and non-programmed play that they so desperately need for their healthy development. And don't get me started on the obsession with bigger facilities and bigger programs.

Nerd culture is obsessive, especially about media series, which I enjoy just fine, but cannot commit my life to.  I long ago stopped trying to care about video games, because as much as I enjoy them (and did in fact play through Lego Lord of the Rings at a pretty fast clip), I have other things to attend to.  I like Doctor Who very much, but cannot muster a huge amount of energy to discuss the various merits of various companions, etc.  I enjoy the show, like I enjoy Star Trek and Star Wars and Legos and internet memes and Monty Python and Tolkein.  I'm pretty awful about bringing them up in class.  But I have other interests as well, and don't care to organize my life around fantasy worlds.

Bike culture is competitive and gear-obsessed. Apparently, a cyclist is required to post distance and time and average speed on Facebook at the end of every ride.  The pre-ride scene at the organized events I've been to has just left me defensive and ever more anti-competitive.  You can tell that people are judging componentry, clothing, quad size, branding, and everything else.  I would love a $5000 titanium road bike with semi-pro specs, and probably get jealous that some choose to spend their money that way. I just can't get on board with the whole macho "gotta get to the next level" thing.  Though I still want that tattoo on my right calf that looks like a chain gunk smear.

Academic culture is by turns defensive and smug.  I've never felt 100% at home in the kind of worldview that most of my colleagues evince.  But the point of this little essay, I guess, is that it's hard for me to find home anywhere. It's not them, it's me.

Monday Update, Retreating from Retreats Edition

As the new school year approaches, we enter into the week of inaptly-named "retreats," wherein we are given the agenda for the year, more or less.  Our department's day long "retreat" featured a few moments wherein yours truly spoke rather...frankly...about some things that need to be addressed.  I am assuredly not content these days, and apparently, on my reduced drug regimen, I am a bit sharper (both in thought and in speech) than I have been recently.

Classes begin a week from today, so the real office work started today. The routine has been remarkably similar from year to year . . . right down to my reflexive hiding from students until the last possible minute.

There's a lot to write about, what with the buzzwords of the year, and the newest mandates handed down, and our university system's clumsy flirtation with the MOOC movement . . . but tonight at least just thinking about these things makes me tired.

Monday Update, Deluge Edition

It has rained every day for about ten days now.  Every morning, without fail.  This has caused some difficulty to me in my bicycling, because it is not advisable to ride out in a thunderstorm.  I probably needed the week off anyway, considering how I had been feeling.  But I'm tired of waiting now!

Starting today, all of the children are now in their new school-year schedules.  Little Red had his first day at Kindergarten, so we should have some interesting things to talk about this evening.

The Runner organized and held a benefit yard sale this weekend. It was a good idea hampered by our location (though our road isn't exactly hidden, it's not one many people seem to know about) and by the absolutely wretched weather.  Most of the sales were done on the Friday "pre-sale" day.  So now, naturally, we have a garage full of used stuff that needs to be sent on its way to various places.  I expect that we should have it all cleaned out . . . in a couple of weeks.

I have to say this about The Runner, though:  she can work like a champ.

Work starts in earnest this week. We know it's so when the "retreats" start up.

Adventures in Parenting, Vol. 40

Number One Son starts third grade classes today; Little Red officially starts today but won't actually be at school until Monday or Tuesday of next week.
I worry about them both, of course--albeit in laughably different ways. I worry that Number One will get demoralized like he did a couple of years ago. I worry that Little Red will find it difficult and frustrating...and that his little heart will get broken.

I'm more protective of Little Red.

Basic Adulthood, Part 4

Being a true adult means minding your own business.  The prevalence of social media makes it sometimes difficult to maintain the boundary between what's public and what's private, but part of learning adulthood is learning how to manage difficult tasks.  Minding one's own business is much more than merely keeping one's nose out of others' affairs; it is also a matter of keeping one's own affairs to oneself.  A particularly pernicious effect of social media space is the increasing desire (even demand) on the part of many people that their own decisions be not merely acknowledged but also celebrated by even the most peripheral of their social contacts.  It is fun to get a trophy for participating in tee-ball, but what's the trophy worth when everyone wants one for everything they do?

I need not even point out that a true adult has tasted enough of heartache and infelicity that he or she should have developed the discernment necessary to know which persons belong in the inner circle and how much to share with those persons.

Monday Update, New Schools Edition

Teaching Ecclesiastes in Sunday School.

The last few weeks have been challenging in unexpected ways, as my time has been eaten up by unexpected developments with children and spouse, etc.  Needless to say, my grand plans for achievement this summer have not come to fruition in the way I might have expected. 

Things change dramatically at my house when, starting on Thursday, we have one boy at the local elementary school, one at the primary school, and the youngest going to a three day a week schedule at the day care.  Mornings promise to be most interesting, especially since I also have an 8:00 class three days a week. 

The elder two are ready to get to it, and we are ready for them to get to it.  They have been wound up tighter than bowstrings ever since getting back from their fantastic week at grandparent camp in Atlanta.  Poor Little Red has no idea what to do with all the nervous energy. This makes him irritating to live with. Thankfully, The Runner knows exactly what's going on and how to deal with it. She has the magic touch with him right now, and I say amen to that.

The Runner, speaking of whom, did her second organized biking event this past weekend.  She had a great time.  Her next event is a triathlon. I'd be satisfied with a bike ride that felt like my body was moving correctly.

In which Piers bids goodbye to a long time companion

Through a set of fortuitous accidents and doctor visits, I ran out of my prescription of Buproprion (aka Wellbutrin).

I am down to only one pill, and I honestly feel sharper than I have in a while.  And I'm not napping as much.  Win-win.  No negative results so far, though I will of course be discussing these and many other matters when I speak to my new shrink in a couple of months.

Basic Adulthood, Part 3

Being an adult means that you accept consequences for your behavior.  Nothing is more pathetic than a grown person who chooses a path in his or her life and then either attempts to deny that he has chosen that path, or wants to find a way around the natural outcomes of that choice.  An average adult is free to do just about anything he wants with his body, and he revels in that liberty while remaining fully mindful of the price of that freedom: foreseen and unforeseen consequences, both pleasant and not. 

But Piers, you will say, no one gets to choose everything about their life.  Agreed.  But everyone is granted a certain measure of choice, which is why each person must accept responsibility for the choices granted him.  My students laugh and groan when I tell them that they do not have to come to class, and that they don't have to complete their assignments . . . as long as they are willing to accept the grade that results.  They do not know how serious I am.

Sometimes, thankfully, we are given a reprieve.  But that's known as grace; it's a gift, not an entitlement.

In which Piers stands Janus-like

I have been using some of my time to do some reading and writing this week, since I'm alone in NWTN while my other family members live it up in big cities.  The above is something that has been rattling around in my head for the past couple of days, so I jotted it down and realized several things:

1.  This could actually be a reasonably useful book.
2.  This could be a book I could actually write.
3.  This is a book that could tie together everything I've studied for the past 15 years.
4.  This is a scary proposition.

I wrote the following in my journal this morning, before I got to the other writing of the day:

It looks like I'm on the verge of the first of several really difficult but absolutely necessary choices. It could be that the next phase of my life requires that I give up the security of what I've built up for myself here.

I followed up that thought with the (typically pessimistic) phrase "maybe I'm not up to it." But I kinda think I have to be.  Here as the Great Liminal Summer winds to a close, I am being (divinely?) called to take greater risks than I've ever taken. I'm a little frightened.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 7

Dude, here's a suggestion:  lighten up, hit delete, and move on with your life.

"Resent the intrusion," my ass.  If Mr. Associate Professor's life is so thrown out of balance by a stray or strange email, how in the world does he handle dealing with students?

Readers will note that Piers did not in fact add to the email crisis by responding to this stuffed shirt.

Monday Update, Bachelor Edition

Just me and the animals this week.  The Runner is off seeing her mom, and the three children are down in Atlanta visiting my parents.  This means that the house is very quiet, except when The Mutt decides that she needs some kind of attention.  She has actually been pretty needy for the past couple of days . . . she tends to get uneasy when The Runner isn't around.  She sits in the front room a lot and keeps a lookout.

I have set for myself an ambitious program of chores and work related tasks in order to pass the time while everyone is gone.  One of the major projects is to clean out the room inhabited by Number One and Little Red.  It's a horror-show in there.  After spending some time going through their toy drawers, I have a better understanding of why they find it so hard to clean up; they are utterly overwhelmed.  I predict at least one huge trash bag being toted out of there.

Amazing how much time this summer has been devoted to things directly related to house/yard maintenance, or to the three boys.   And of course now that The Runner is going the triathlon route, that's another thing for us to keep in mind.  I am totally impressed with how strong, fast, and fearless she is. It's inspiring.

Basic Adulthood, Part 2

The true adult thinks before she speaks. She understands that words have consequences, just like actions do. She keeps in mind that especially in cyberspace, they tend to be permanent.  She does not treat her or others' personal or online space as a bathroom stall or a psychiatrist's couch.  She determines for herself whether her words are necessary, truthful, and constructive, and she chooses them accordingly. She understands that self-expression is nice, but hardly all-important; thus she avoids the adolescent's fault of mistaking a lack of discretion for "authenticity." Most importantly, she understands that sometimes she need not speak at all.

Basic Adulthood, Part 1

 Being an adult means being mindful of how your actions affect other people.  An adult controls her physical and/or virtual presence contained so as to neither harm nor harass the other people, because she recognizes that her actions ripple outward and into others' spheres.  This principle holds when driving, when walking in the hall, at ball games, at the Wal-Mart, and especially on Facebook.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 6

University students are fleeing humanities courses. Among the reasons is the simple fact, reported here and elsewhere: humanities departments no longer teach the humanities.

From Had Enough Therapy?

It is so very hard to keep the ol' chin up when I survey my career. I work very hard to be a responsible custodian of the legacy I've been given, and I do believe that I'm doing my job reasonably well. I doubt that's enough.

I am not a good Baptist, Vol. 2

In the packet for the sunday school class (apparently, however, we're supposed to call them "connect groups" now) this morning was an announcement that at the beginning of September there will be a banquet with a "motivational speaker" to help the church ramp up the next phase of its building program.  This so that all the people at the church who are unaware of the building program will become aware of "how God is working" . . . through the building program.  Also, we were urged to sign up for the "Visiting Team" to do the work of going into people's houses to give them the hard sell for pledges, etc.

Thus it begins, as the consultants and motivational speakers and other people from outside the church begin to exert their will.  Once the gears start grinding and the machinery really starts working, there's no applying the brakes.

"For books are not absolutely dead things"

"When evening comes, I return home and go into my study. On the threshold I strip off the muddy, sweaty clothes of everyday, and put on the robes of court and palace, and in this graver dress I enter the antique courts of the ancients and am welcomed by them, and there I taste the food that alone is mine, and for which I was born. And there I make bold to speak to them and ask the motives of their actions, and they, in their humanity, reply to me. And for the space of four hours I forget the world, remember no vexation, fear poverty no more, tremble no more at death; I pass indeed into their world."

 --Machiavelli, in a letter to Francesco Vettori

 
I will grant that I have an absurd number of books (not as many as I might wish) . . . I have them everywhere.  I keep them around years and years after I've read them.  Some I keep around for years before I read them!

One reason they are so important to me, sitting there with all their spines showing, is that they are thus a kind of intellectual biography. They remind me of where I've been and how I've developed as a person and a thinker. 

The only time I really don't like them is when it comes time to move.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 5

I am about to submit paperwork for my yearly performance review.  This marks as good an occasion as I can think of to take stock of what I'm doing here. In order to be successful as an associate professor on this faculty, I must do the following things:

1. I need to complete all the paperwork and I need to respond to email messages in a timely and appropriate manner.
2. I need to serve faithfully and consistently on department, college, and university-level committees.
3. I need to attend the appropriate department, college, committee, and general faculty meetings.
4. I need to effectively "advise" or more appropriately shepherd students through the curriculum.
5. I need to teach the equivalent of four courses per semester and have most of those course seats full.
6. I need to receive student evaluations from those courses in which I score 4.6/5.0 or better.
7. I need to continue to read and study, incorporating new ideas and procedures into my classroom.
8. I need to produce original scholarship for conferences and for publication.
9. I need to remain current in my field of study and continue to look for grants, symposia, etc.

All of these things are good things to be doing, and thankfully I don't have to do all of them at the same time or on the same days (usually).  Each job has the parts we like, and the parts we do so we can do the parts we like.

I am not a good Baptist, Vol. 1

My heart dropped into my stomach today while I was at the auto mechanic.  No, it wasn't due to the repair job (just tires and brake pads--expensive enough, but not catastrophic).  It was due to a conversation I had with the owner, a man who usually sits behind or in front of us on Sundays and who has expressed some amusement at the antics of the three urchins.  He sat down and talked about the recent reveal of the next building phase of the church.  The total projected cost at this point (with no overruns, etc):  $10 million.  He expressed some reservations.

While I am fairly confident about the character of the (very young) pastor we have, I am not confident about his ability to keep the marketers, architects, builders, fundraisers, etc., in check.  And I am certainly not confident about the ability of this church in this town to absorb that kind of financial obligation.  It is going to be awfully painful to watch the whole circus start up and take over everything the church does.  We have watched it happen at two other churches.

Of course, the congregation could vote "NO" and force a much more modest plan...but we know that won't happen.

Monday Update, Post Florida Edition

It is difficult to pick up where I left off about three weeks ago in my office work.  It is especially difficult in my case because once I have deviated from my routine, it takes me a long time to get started again.  I am a slow starter anyway.

I'm pretty good once I get wound up, but it takes a little while to get there.

Number One Son had a rite of passage yesterday--he, Little Red, and Lefty were playing in the field out behind our house, and apparently they strayed too close to a wasp nest that was up under a rock.  From inside the house, we heard bloodcurdling shrieking, running out to see that he had been zapped about six times.  The other two escaped unscathed.  Once he had calmed down, we were able to say, "well, you've been stung by a bunch of wasps.  It hurts.  But also, you didn't die from it!"

This after he had a bike crash on Saturday.

Number One is also apparently in a growth spurt.  His recent performances at the dinner table (and lunch and breakfast too) have been impressive.  This is good--maybe he and Little Red won't be wearing all the same undies and shorts when school starts. 

The Runner continues to hit the bike riding pretty hard.  I am glad that she has this to do, because the running isn't happening this summer--and because the running club is a source of major stress and frustration for her right now.  She and the neighbor, though, can get out and scoot for their hour or so, and they come back all smiles.  The only downside (or is it an upside?):  There is an absurd number of bikes in my garage.  I need a second garage for the actual automobiles.

In which Piers suddenly has to keep up

The Runner bought herself a Felt ZW95 three weeks ago, and she has found riding the bicycle to be a whole lot of fun.  The intensity has picked up even more because our neighbor and her running buddy L also bought herself one.  They have hit the rides pretty hard, to the point where by the end of the summer I imagine she'll easily be keeping up or even surpassing my efforts.  This morning I anticipated that she and her partner would ride about fifteen miles . . . they did twenty-five.  Awesome for them. 

I shouldn't be surprised--she is as strong as an ox.

In which Piers is pensive

The best way to describe the past six months is "living through a slow realization":

I'm good, just not that good; I was told yesterday after the ride that I looked "powerful" as I was going up some of the hills. I was grateful for the praise, but I also recognize that I look "powerful" only in comparison to other middle aged men who ride more or less recreationally and for fitness. I've seen people who actually look powerful on a bike, and who have the equipment to make the most of that power. I'm not there, not really.

Similarly, I've been told that I'm "smart." Fair enough--I know that I'm smart. But I also know I'm actually "smart" mostly in comparison with other people who work and live in the kind of place I work and live. I have been around genuinely brilliant people, and read their work, and read about their lives, and I know enough to know that I'm not there, not really.

The same goes for looks, and wit, and wisdom, and talent, and focus. I am quite aware of my limitations...that I'm not there, not really.

Some people write these sorts of things in an attempt to get some reassuring praise. Not me--I'm writing to help myself figure out what's most important, and what counts as a successful life.

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On (not) getting the job done

I have listened to one of my colleagues tell about his experience teaching this summer, and have noted in more than one case his frustration with the students coming to him. His frustration, however, is not with their weak intellects ... It is with the incredibly poor level of preparation they have for doing even slightly serious work. And I'm not talking about 1st year students...I'm talking about upperclassmen. One student wrote a response to A Streetcar Named Desire in which she offered a scathing (and completely incoherent) critique of US foreign policy in the 20th Century. The entire piece was a non sequitur. When asked about it, she admitted that she didn't believe or really understand a word of what she had written...she was just providing a summary of what she had been taught in a US history class--by one of our colleagues--the previous term. Bravo to that professor, who surely spoke truth to power...and taught his charges very little.

He had another student express to him her frustration that only now, at the end of her fifth class taught by a member of our department, did she understand that "English" was about so much more than grammar...and that it could be rewarding.

Mere anecdotes, right? Right?

Velo

I have had a much better riding summer than I've had in years--maybe ever since I got the bike.  I never did name the thing, which is a shame.  It has served me well in many respects, especially seeing as I have had no racing or triathlon ambitions . . . I just want to ride, and feel like I'm getting better at it over time.  The difference this year has been that I actually had an exercise program over the winter and came to the warmer months far more ready to ride than ever before.  I also made some upgrades on the bike that seem to have helped.  I'm going faster and farther.

Which brings me to today's 30-mile ride. At about halfway, I started to get frustrated because the bike just felt sluggish.  It may have been me, but my legs felt plenty fine and I wasn't having a hard time catching my breath.  It seemed like the bike just didn't want to go when I pushed it.  I have noticed this year, perhaps because of my increased strength or perhaps because I'm imagining it, that I feel more "give" in the bike when I'm really pushing hard.

Is this why people eventually upgrade their whole machine? I'm not in the market for a bike (especially since we just bought one for The Runner), and I have no desire to get on some overbuilt pro-level job. But if I keep feeling like it just doesn't want to get up and go when I want it to, I'll be more and more apt to start looking for a new one.  There are only about a couple hundred options out there...and they'll be happy to take my money.

Monday Update, Back to It Edition

 The measure of a life
Is the measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn, so easily burned--


So, we returned from our little trip to Florida, and I have returned to my blog, hoping to use it more effectively for what I need right now.


The first step may be attending to the notion of what I need right now.  Well, that and what is required of me.  That's important too.


For now, I'm remembering the words above, written by Neil Peart...keeping the long view in mind and remembering that love, respect, and trust are in fact so easily burned.

A few updates

1.  My impression of the bureaucratic impetus of the most recent UT "system" partnership with Coursera was borne out by the following statement made during the course of the teleconference yesterday (I was not there, so this wording may be inexact): "We are not sure which problems this will solve, but we are sure it will solve some problems."  Reaction from my colleagues has been predictably . . . skeptical.

2.  In a reminder of why I am keeping my long term options open, I went into the office on Monday morning--two little boys in tow--and was greeted by the secretary with the question, "did you get your grades in?  They were due at 8:00 this morning."  Well, no, as a matter of fact I did not. Because I had gotten no information about when grades were due and probably wouldn't have done them anyway.  But I got right to it.  While at my desk, I received an email informing me that the system had been reset for me to submit grades, but that I would only have until noon. No problem, I could do that.  While at work on campus, the phone rings at my house because my department chair was cc'd on the email and made the secretary call my house to make sure I saw the email.

3.  Meanwhile, because HR couldn't manage the paperwork properly, I will not be paid for May work until the end of June. If I had been smart, I would have told them that I would be happy to trade timely payment for timely grades. Alas, I am not that quick on my feet.

4.  On the home & garden front, all the plants have enjoyed the copious rain this past couple of months.  The garden is actually growing--unlike last year--which makes us feel much more competent as homeowners, etc.

5.  The boys are about at the end of their baseball seasons . . . everything ends tomorrow night.  The Runner and I are secretly glad we'll soon have weeknights free again.  That said, we are also quite glad that they have enjoyed their teams.

6.  The recent bike upgrade is working out nicely. Should be a fine companion for my 100KM bike ride this coming weekend.

Adventures in Academe. Vol. 4

There's a video conference on this campus today to "discuss" the UT "system" partnership with Coursera, one of the new large providers of MOOC's, or Massively Open Online Classes.  The business model has gotten a lot of attention recently in academic circles as the pace of adoption and instructional change accelerates. We have reached the point at which the Internet becomes a disruptive technology to the 19th-century world of the academy, and the change is making most of us really nervous (to the point where the Duke faculty, for instance, has rejected the whole notion).

Many of my colleagues are planning to show up to the meeting to register "concerns," "misgivings," even "resistance."  I wish them the best, but I will not be joining them.  I share their concerns but do not believe that the new initiative by the UT "system" is driven by anything approaching instructional concerns.  I think the university "system" is under legislative pressure to save money, and also under competitive pressure to remain current on the national scene (in which, for instance, Georgia Tech is planning to offer an entire online Master's degree in Computer Science).  In other words, this is a bureaucratic decision that will continue to be implemented by bureaucrats, including but not limited to our department chairs, deans, and provost. We will be allowed to complain if we wish, but the faculty are not the core constituency of the "system."

Do not mistake my tone for anger; indeed, I am convinced that within the next decade the whole 19th Century edifice of higher ed in this country will have been dismantled. I am also convinced that faculty--especially at smaller institutions like the one where I work--must adapt to the new situation or find new lines of work.  I imagine that faculty working at larger, R-1 type institutions, will be able to weather the change just fine.  We are extremely exposed out here in NWTN, with a shrinking pool of students, fierce competition from private colleges and from a couple of bigger public institutions, and barely-nominal support from the UT "system."**

 The question in my mind is, not how do we resist these changes--they are coming no matter what--but how we adapt to them and make them work for us.  That's going to take some leadership from the very top at this extremely top-down oriented campus.  I wonder if they are up to it.

Scare quote explanation below the fold--

Today's bike upgrade

Everybody swears by these. And since I'm not gonna be racing any time soon, or ever...

The Runner's comment was, "that's supposed to be comfortable??"

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Quiet, A

Homeri Ulysses. - Demacatus Plutarchi. - Ulysses, in Homer, is made a long-thinking man before he speaks; and Epaminondas is celebrated by Pindar to be a man that, though he knew much, yet he spoke but little.  Demacatus, when on the bench he was long silent and said nothing, one asking him if it were folly in him, or want of language, he answered, “A fool could never hold his peace.” {31c}  For too much talking is ever the index of a fool.

--Ben Jonson, Timber, or Discoveries

I've been on fire with the book reading recently . . . Just finished a social history of the Early Modern period, and Hawthorne's House of the Seven Gables (which I really enjoyed).  I have now turned my attention to a book on "common prayer" in the 16th Century in England; a translation of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso; and Susan Cain's Quiet--a book on introverts and introversion.  In the informal assessment she places in her introduction, I scored an 18/20, answering "True" to statements like:

• I often let the phone ring through to voice mail.
• I express myself better in writing.
• I would rather have a weekend with nothing to do than a weekend overly full of activities.

I make myself laugh.  Not sure what I'm expecting to learn from this book--I'm at peace with my nature, though I do wish I were a bit more aggressive in the self-promotion department.  It's part of a conscious attempt on my part to read more popular non-fiction in addition to the loads of fiction and scholarly monographs I consume along with whatever I'm teaching.  Also, I am not bragging about the reading--it's just the way I spend most of my time.

I'm a slow starter, not much of a ready talker, an internal processor, and not very quick on my feet.  But at least I'm no fool--or at least not much of the time.

Trying to come to a clearer self-assessment.

Monday Update, Globed Peonies Edition

Week two of the Maymester class begins today. I am having a good time with the class, and so far the students have stayed with me.  Reading Spenser at this pace isn't easy, but on the other hand, they are probably better off reading the work this way because it forces them to stick with it and helps them not forget the multifarious elements of his invention.

Meanwhile, we have spent a lot of time this past week at the ballpark and in the yard, trying to create some sense of organization and order while the plants all luxuriate in the warmth and the rain. This has been an ideal spring for making things grow like--well--weeds.  Also garden plants and flowers. The above peony surprised us this year.  I am fortunate that The Runner enjoys spending time in the yard, because it takes two of us to keep things under control.

I am months ahead of my usual fitness level at this time of the year.  Apparently the circuit training I did through the winter months, paired with some indoor riding on the stationary trainer, has made a significant difference in my strength and stamina level.  I'm currently on track to average 5 rides of 20 mi. + per week this month.  That's significant for me.  I hope that by July 4 I'll be ready to tackle all 100 miles of the Bike Around Mayfield.

We saw Number One Son in his children's choir production at church last night.  He had a minor speaking part, and did pretty dang good with it. Parental thrill.

Adventures in Academe, Vol. 3

A partial list of things I teach that could get me in trouble according to the Feds if this continues to be implemented as official policy:
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
The Canterbury Tales
Lanval
The Faerie Queene
John Donne's "Elegy 19"
Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress"
Christopher Marlowe's "Hero and Leander"
George Chapman's "Ovid's Banquet of Sense"

Keeping the Schedule

today:

5:45 awakened by The Mutt because she needs to go out.
6:00 try to rouse Number One Son, and carry Little Red out to the recliner.
6:05 begin preparing breakfast for boys.
6:15 retrieve Lefty
6:30 check morning news and weather as I wait for Number One Son to get ready for school.
6:55 The Runner and Number One out the door to take him to school and her to the swimming pool.
7:10 "Daddee we need to doo something."
7:15 "Daddee I want cereal."
7:20 "Daddee I want a waffle."
7:30 "Daddee let's play legos. What do you want to build."
7:31 "What do you want to build."
7:32 "What do you want to build, daddee?"
7:45 "Let's do a science experiment!"
8:00 try to explain that the components of the experiment will take time to set up and get ready.
8:15 "is it ready yet?" "no."
8:20 "let's play on the TV."
8:30 The Runner returns from the pool. The Mutt is very excited.  The children are very excited.
8:45 text message from buddy: "how about a bike ride at 10:00."
...
...
...and so on.

From Prof. Althouse, a penetrating question

"What aesthetic preferences have you tricked up as moral imperatives?"

Link


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Adventures with Students, Vol. 50

It's that time of year!  Here are representative comments from this semester's evaluations:

• "He gives you your money's worth"
• "Made the course a lot better than expected." (backhanded?)
• "He is very energetic" (this comment has appeared in scores of evaluations every semester in some form or another)
• "Needs improvement on storytelling. You go off topic easily." (this is also an oft-repeated critique)
• "he makes a not so interesting course a little more interesting."  (eh??)
• "I would [recommend this teacher to another student] if they were willing to risk a B or were willing to work."
• "I would go easier on essays, grading-wise."
• "Speaks loudly & clearly so everyone can understand." 
• "He is kind and open to answering questions, rather than tell you it's a stupid question and move on without answering, as one of my professors did all semester."

On balance, the usual conclusions:  My strengths are the energy and attention I bring to the classroom, and communicating to the students that I'm on their side.  My weaknesses are in my ability to articulate assignment expectations rigorously but clearly, and my tendency to chase rabbits.

And sometimes I get loud.

Monday Update, Down Time Edition

 Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita
(Dante, Inferno, Canto I)

I had a terrifying conversation with my best buddy today.  We were taking stock now that the semester has come to an end, and we both expressed the same concern:  that we are losing the ability to operate at a high level--that even if something were to open up somewhere else (and make no mistake, we're both looking), we wouldn't be able to keep up.

It's all of a piece with the rest of the concerns I've had this past few months:  about the direction of my career, and whether or not I can find fulfillment doing this job in this place.  I'm content that I'm not likely to ever be an ARB or a JLW, under whom I studied and learned so very much--but I would like to work at a place where the liberal arts are understood and valued, and where the leadership at least seems to understand and value the identity of the institution.

The other option, pushing back and trying to forge something here in NWTN, just seems so exhausting.

My buddy said something else terrifying as well.  When I noted that I had been kinda thinking about leaving, he said, "I could tell from your behavior."  I'm dismayed that I am not more sneaky than I am.  Sorta.  Then I remember that the first "strength" on that strength inventory I took the other day was "honesty, authenticity, and genuineness," followed by "industry, diligence, and perseverance."  If I'm serious, then, about changing my mindset about all the things about me, perhaps I need to use this crisis of confidence--this moment of being unsettled--as an opportunity to develop the very things that are thereby being put under pressure.

Turning in final grades is always a bittersweet experience, mainly because I don't feel comfortable with the high ones (too generous?) or the low ones (too tough?) . . . unless of course the student is in the very top 10% or the bottom 10%.  I have had only one complaint, fortunately:  the young woman worked too hard to be getting a B, she says (with what may have been a touch too much sarcasm). I say, "well, I have no doubt that you worked hard, so I will double check to make sure that I got your grade right."  One can hardly just say, "I've been doing this long enough to where I can pretty easily make the call, and you fall squarely in the 'B' range," even though that would be an utterly true statement.

I begin teaching again next Monday -- a "Maymester" course that will go for fifteen days, three hours per day. It will be a new experience.

Shutting it down

Another semester in the books.  I will remember this one as the Semester When It All Changed, either way.  I don't think I will return after this summer with the same mindset, the same priorities, or the same level of favor from my department chair.  Because I aim to start standing up for some ideas.