"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.