Dudes, It Ain't Me. But I Like It.

Warning: Potty Mouth ahead. OK. You've been duly warned.
OK. If you really want to get into the spirit of this post, totally listen to this. Seriously, you need like the first 15 seconds of it to understand where I'm going with this... In fact, let it play while you read the rest of this post:



Now that you're properly prepared, let me begin by saying, this ain't my fault, but I'm totally behind it. The first heads up came from El Hijo. He phoned me at my other job to ask me, basically, if I knew about what had happened or if I had any part in what had happened. The answers are 1) No and 2) I wish. Where do I fucking sign? Some brave, courageous and totally support-worthy soul put this in all the graduate teaching assistants' mail boxes. Here's what the original resolution says. MLA, by the way, stands for Modern Language Association and is the giant poop of all GTAs, adjuncts, faculty, all Englishy folk. Teh Big Deal. Here's what they wrote:

The 2006 Delegate Assembly approved the following resolutions. Members may vote yes or no on each resolution.

Resolution 2006-1
Whereas undocumented workers, through their labor, contribute greatly to the economy of the United States; and
Whereas they are shamefully deprived of most legal rights other workers enjoy; and
Whereas they are superexploited as a result; and
Whereas the MLA is appropriately concerned about the use of language and about access to higher education;
Be it resolved that the MLA urge that the phrase "undocumented wokres" be used in place of the abusive term "illegal aliens" and that every state guarantee undocumented workers who live there in-state tuition.

OK. Here's what somebody with real skirt did. They crossed out all the places it said "undocumented workers" and put "graduate students". Here's what it said as it appeared in our mailboxes:

Resolution 2006-1
Whereas Graduate students, through their labor, contribute greatly to the economy of the United States; and
Whereas they are shamefully deprived of most benefits other faculty enjoy; and
Whereas they are superexploited as a result; and
Whereas the MLA is appropriately concerned about the use of language but not of action;
Be it resolved that the MLA urge that the phrase "faculty" be used in place of the abusive term "assistant" and that every state guarantee "faculty" who live there a livable wage.

Hear, fucking, hear! OK, first off, people, did I do this?? Hell, no! Would I have helped had I have known? Hell fucking yes! There was a mild debate on this subject between me and another person about how the person who did this "took away" from the point the MLA was trying to make. The MLA has no goddamned business taking a stance on undocumented workers when it is A) politically impotent and B) not taking care of business in its own backyard.

The point of the flier was to show how crappy the pay and work situation for grad students is. We teach your fundamentally basic classes. People learn to write a coherent paragraph and argument through our basic classes. I once had a prof in a position of power tell our class that our other profs wouldn't give us a break on when our own assignments were due for our own classes based on when we had to grade our students' papers, "nor should they." I bit my lip that day. Hard. Because I wanted to say (with only four weeks in the business, mind you) that hell, yes, they fucking should cut us a break. Because if it weren't for us, they would be teaching those fucking classes. We allow them to pursue "higher" literature with students who actually give a shit whether they learn or not. They fucking owe us.

Before the MLA decides to put it's pointy nose in the air about the immigration issue, it had best make sure that its own house is in order. The adjunct pay is atrocious. No benefits, less than $3000 per class for a semester's worth of mentoring for at least 22 students. Nobody goes into the adjunct business unless they have a secondary source of income, they absolutely LOVE to teach, or their spouse makes enough for them to dick around in the profession. The grad students here teach a two class per semester load, which is really fucking hard compared to other schools who teach a 2 class fall/1 class spring load. The super privileged teach a 1/1 load, and make nearly twice as much money as we do. Keep in mind that on top of this, we're expected to rock class out with papers that will be published in academic journals; sometimes getting published determines whether we'll get into good graduate schools, get real jobs as professors, or be doomed to semesterly contracts as "senior lecturers." Fuck you, MLA. Fix the pay scale of your own goddamned employees before you make the limp-dicked suggestion that the US take care of its own undocumented workers. You have papers on us. You know we make shit and do ten times the work for it.

Did I do this? No. But I promise you, dear reader, that there will be at least four people asking me about this before I get into work again next week.

Will the GTAs and adjuncts actually do anything about their situation and unionize? Nah. They ain't got the skirt. If they did, I'd fucking lead the charge. But I ain't about to ride into battle alone.

If the person who did do this wants some support, and I'm talking one hell of a backbone, here, baby, can they contact, me? Hell fucking yes. I've been waiting for a kindred spirit. Let's put a brick through their window!

-- Virgil

Holidays = Teh Suck

Well, I'm here at home and the boys are in Kentucky for Thanksgiving.

Don't even begin to feel sorry for me, because the truth is the holidays stress me out, and I would rather be here. I was raised without them for 19 years, so it's been hard to slip into the holidays. I didn't even really start celebrating them until I got married, because I didn't have a place to go do it. Everybody goes home for the holidays, but my home (which never feels like home anyway) doesn't do that. Because my immediate family still doesn't celebrate any holidays except their super boring metaphorically canabalistic slightly disguised Easter ritual, that pretty much leaves the in-laws; while I have a great bunch of in-laws, it's still pretty stressful for me. See, I don't understand most people's traditions. They go about it with such ease, and I'm standing around going, "Wait, wha??" I'm trying to find my own way into traditions of my own, but it's slow going.

Thanksgiving is a bit difficult, because El Hijo de Verde's family all dress up (for the most part). It's like a fancy-pants dinner. I've never had a fancy-pants dinner with my own family, so I always feel like I'm about to break the china. Plus, I'm the in-law to them. So while they are moderately interested in them, El Hijo is, well, their hijo, so I feel like I play the part of the supportive second stringer. I like them, don't get me wrong. I like their ham, too. They're nice to me. But I'm never sure how to behave.

Christmas is really weird for me. I mean, super weird. You'd be surprised how you can be born into and live in a culture all your life and still never get down fully with some of the traditions. There's songs for Christmas that I don't know, because I wasn't allowed to sing them and I had to leave the room at school during all that stuff. (Which was OK, because I thought class was largely boring.) There's all the decoration stuff, which I am totally inept at. There's present buying, which I think I suck at. My idea of what makes a good present is on the opposite spectrum of what other people seem to do. I'm really uncomfortable with the present aspect of things anyway. I was raised to believe that Xmas is a money grubbing event that has nothing to do with the day of Christ's birth, which wasn't even in December anyway. I still think it's a money grubbing event, and it has nothing to do with Jesus' birth, but now I've modified that stance to believe that it's also about showing your family how much you appreciate all of them, and that's why we all drive in each year. Still, it's mega-awkward when the family (El Hijo's family) calls wanting our "list." They give TONS of gifts each year, and as two fairly poor grad students, sometimes it feels like it's hard to keep up. They don't expect us to, but it's the principle of the thing for me.

Another awkward part is that Dante goes with his Dad for Xmas & T-giving. So, my own family isn't even there. I hate going into Kentucky to give him away. I tried to get out of that feeling this year by going on vacation with Director/Buddy. We're going to Acapulco in less than a month. Whoo-hoo!! It was supposed to work out so that she wasn't by herself for Xmas--she's single, childless, and has no family except an estranged half sister and a combative cousin, so she takes the holidays on the chin. The trip, though, turns out to be the week before Xmas. So, we're still going through it, but maybe we'll be tanner this time around.

Trying to create my own traditions has been somewhat hilarious. T-giving is just an excuse to see the family you haven't seen in a while. I can't help but think, "This has shit-all to do with Pilgrims, who weren't really something we should celebrate anyway. Pass the ham." Christmas, though, is a bit different. There's a Charlie Brown CD of Xmas music that I fell in love with last year. I had to play it constantly. I'm looking forward to getting into it again. I can't put up a Xmas tree. They seem too weird to me. All those baubles and strings of stuff--it just looks like one giant fire hazard. Instead, what I have are light up glass present boxes. I'll have to take a picture and post it. Director/Buddy last year took these clear glass blocks and drilled a hole in them. Then she stuffed them with regular string lights and wrapped the whole thing with a bow. You plug it in and have a light up present! I am so crazy over those things. I love them to pieces. I'm already plotting on how to get more of them. So last year, I had the light up boxes on the liquor cabinet and all of the other real presents under the light up boxes. So instead of worshiping a tree, I worship a holy present box, I guess. Seems more appropriate to the money grubbing season.

But so far, that's as far as my decorating goes: light up glass boxes and Charlie Brown Xmas music. I go into stores and get blown away by the decorations. Am I supposed to have bouncing snowmen? Candy canes? Frogs in Santa clothes? There's too much to pick from. I may get around to hanging a wreath on the door this year, but that will probably be my only new tradition. My quiet goal is to go on vacation every Xmas and create a sort of "alternative" holiday. A Festivus for the rest of us. El Hijo gets kind of mad when I'm not there, though.

So while the boys have been gone, I've dicked around a bit, worked on important essays, (de)graded a few student projects, drank various kinds of spirits and bonded with kitty. I'm actually doing pretty good. Apparently I needed a few days to decompress by myself.

Oh, and I plugged in the present boxes. Apparently, it's Christmas time.

-- Virgil

Because I Need A Break From Writing The Essay That Will Never End

When the boys of this household indulge in watching pro-wrestling, sometimes I sit in with them. Wrestling is very big on Dante's agenda right now, and he has an absolute obsession with Jeff Hardy, who looks like an overgrown skateboarder on ecstasy, so I have no idea what Dante sees in him. The shows give the boys something to bond over; Dante can obsess over the brewing storylines and El Hijo de Verde (Husband) can have his "When I was a boy..." moment.

Sometimes the house is such a racket when the show is on that all you can do is try to find your way into enjoying it. I do so by investigating the new man meat. After all, there are few other places where you can see overly toned men prancing around in spandex and be reasonably sure they're straight. I tend to like the lean types, and considering the steroid superfreaks that pro-wrestling likes to trot out nowadays, I don't get much to pick from.

My favorite wrestler used to be Edge. When he first hit the big time, he was part of a trio. He was supposedly with his "brother" Christian and they were led by a vampire named Gangrel who used to drink "blood" in the ring and spew it out. There were implications of mind control.



Edge is the one standing on the left. Hawt. Now, his jawline is so square from steroids that you could probably use it as a ruler to mark off plywood. See example:



Blech. I don't like 'em when they get too square looking. I'm also somewhat forbidden to like him, since he took Jeff Hardy's real life girlfriend and had a torrid affair with her, breaking the heart of Dante's favorite wrestler. He is considered evil in this household.

One of the new boys who has caught my attention is Cody Rhodes, son of wrestling legend Dusty Rhodes. He reminds me of pretty West Virginia Boys. He's 22 years old, but if you look at his wikipedia entry, he looks like a damn college sophomore. Getting dangerously close to pervy old woman territory. But boy is he good lookin'! Cody is considered a "face", so it's OK to like him. That means he's the good guy.


Purtier fotos of him exist here.

But the one I'm really hoping to see more of is "Drew McIntyre", Drew Galloway in real life, from Scotland. I'm sure he overdoes his accent, but god, it's a killer! He's also only 22, a freaky 28 days older than Cody Rhodes (pervy old woman!!), and he hasn't been on TV very long, making pictures of him hard to find. The YouTube links for his actual debut weren't very clear, so I found--surprise!--his own YouTube video promoting himself.



What little bit we've seen of him suggests he'll be a "heel", or a bad guy. That's my boy! Unfortunately, Cody Rhodes and Drew McIntyre are in different programs, so my dream of seeing my favorite face and my favorite heel beat the crap out of each other won't come true--but I can still check out their collective asses!

Here's the kind of thing Director/Buddy digs:



"And that's the bottom line, cause Stone Cold sez so!!" She's only just discovered him, so when she sees old clips of him slamming back beers and cussing people out and giving everyone the finger, she's transfixed. LOL.

Of course, those types of men usually end up here:


Sigh. We're working on that part of her life.

-- Virgil

LOLZ

Thanks to Doc for posting a link to this hilarious website.

I would personally like to apologize for the state of Kentucky for allowing such a fucktarded house of educational ill repute to happen. On the other hand, that's just one more reason why I am never, ever moving back.

It comes just in time to help me relax from a frenzy of paper writing, one on an Old English poem (NOT in translation :( ) and the other a jinormous paper on Vogue and the how the middle class used it as a frame to commodify the rich in 1893. Or something like that. Sigh. I hate the end of the semester. Wish me happy paper writing.

-- Virgil

I Don't Believe You

When you come up to me at the end of class saying that you can't turn in the paper because you didn't know how to get started, I don't believe you. Everything we've done in this class for the past two weeks was aimed at getting you started. I can see if you have a crappy essay to hand in, or if it's too short, or something like that. But not one word? Make up a better excuse--at least give me something to work with!

If you tell me that you had no idea you were supposed to be turning in those short writing assignments throughout the semester, I'm going to look at you as though you just grew a pair green tentacles. Apart from the fact that it's in your syllabus, and I go over the prompts in class before they are due, what the hell did you think your classmates were periodically handing in to me? Love notes??

If you send me a semi-literate email in IM-speak about how you rly dnt know u were supposed to actually tlk 4 ur participation grade, and do I think this wll hurt ur fnl grd, I'm going to reply to your message with speaklolcat.com and say: IM SRY, TRY AGAIN NEXT YER. MISTAH KITTEH SEZ U R NOT GUD STUDENT.

moarfunny pictures

A "Class" Activity

Plenty of people argue with Ruby Payne about her methodology, but from her 24 years worth of direct personal experience in dealing with issues of poverty, she can construct some pretty interesting scenarios. This comes from her book A Framework for Understanding Poverty. Which list do you "fit" in? Most people will have some crossover with all three lists, but will find that they can answer nearly every question in one category. (Put a mental check by each thing you know how to do.)

Could You Survive in Poverty?

1. I know which churches and sections of town have the best rummage sales.
2. I know which rummage sales have "bag sales" and when.
3. I know which grocery stores' garbage bins can be accessed for thrown-away food.
4. I know how to get someone out of jail.
5. I know how to physically fight and defend myself physically. (We're not talking about theoretically knowing how to throw a punch, here, but rather that you can and have.)
6. I know how to get a gun, even if I have a police record.
7. I know how to keep my clothes from being stolen at the Laundromat.
8. I know what problems to look for in a used car.
9. I know how to live without a checking account.
10. I know how to live without electricity and a phone.
11. I know how to use a knife as scissors.
12. I can entertain groups of friends with my personality and my stories.
13. I know what to do when I don't have money to pay the bills.
14. I know how to move in 1/2 a day.
15. I know how to get and use food stamps or an electronic card for benefits.
16. I know where the free medical clinics are.
17. I am very good at trading and bartering.
18. I can get by without a car.
    

Could You Survive in Middle Class?

1. I know how to get my children into Little League, piano lessons, soccer, etc.
2. I know how to properly set a table.
3. I know which stores are most likely to carry the clothing brands my family wears.
4. My children know the best name brands in clothing. (This includes you even if all your kids "know" is that your shoes have to be Nikes :).
   
5. I know how to order in a nice restaurant.
6. I know how to use a credit card, checking account, and savings account--and I understand an annuity. I understand term life insurance, disability insurance, and 20/80 medical insurance policy, as well as house insurance, flood insurance, and replacement insurance.
7. I talk to my children about going to college.
8. I know how to get one of the best interest rates on my new-car loan.
9. I understand the difference among the principal, interest, and escrow statements on my house payment.
10. I know how to help my children with their homework and do not hesitate to call the school if I need additional information.
11. I know how to decorate the house for the different holidays.
12. I know how to get a library card.
13. I know how to use most of the tools in the garage.
14. I repair items in my house almost immediately when they break--or know a repair service and call it.
    

What I find instructive about these two lists is that it's assumed that the middle class owns a car. It's implicit in being middle class, and so is insurance; whether you can afford it or not, you at least know about it and how it works. The middle class is supposed to be savvier about financial choices. There's also evidence of enough leisure time to pursue activities like reading--getting a library card. There's also a remarkable flavoring of future preparation, again with the purchasing of insurance, but also with one's children--planning for college, communication with teachers, extracurricular activities. Her lists ring true to my experiences in working with people in poverty. I find the third category a bit misnamed, but I take it she means could you fit in with this class, where survival becomes social survival, because your connections are what help you to maintain your wealth.

Could You Survive in Wealth?

1. I can read a menu in French, English, and another language.
2. I have several favorite restaurants in different countries of the world.
3. During the holidays I know how to hire a decorator to identify the appropriate themes and items with which to decorate the house.
4. I know who my preferred financial advisor, legal service, designer, domestic-employment service, and hairdresser are. (And yes, you need to be able to use all of these services. :)
5. I have at least two residences that are staffed and maintained.
6. I know how to ensure confidentiality and loyalty from my domestic staff.
7. I have at least two or three "screens" that keep people whom I do not wish to see away from me.
8. I fly in my own plane or the company plane.
9. I know how to enroll my children in the preferred private schools.
10. I know how to host the parties that "key" people attend.
11. I am on the boards of at least two charities.
12. I know the hidden rules of the Junior League.
13. I support or buy the work of a particular artist.
14. I know how to read a corporate financial statement and analyze my own financial statements.
    

I got a few of those, but not very many. I got about half of the poverty ones. And I'm solidly middle class except my child doesn't know any brand names. Not a bad thing though, eh? Where do you fall in these categories?

-- Virgil

Mooch Update

My previous attempts at controlling the new office Mooch's impolite requests for food and transportation have been quite successful, I'm happy to report. Does she have her own car? No. But she sure doesn't call me in the morning and ask me for a ride. She still hasn't figured out how to bring her own lunch to work, either. And it's certainly not because she doesn't have the money for it. It just seems to...slip her mind. Which brings me to my next nuanced understanding of the Mooch.

I think she's a crack baby. Well, more accurately, she's a pot baby. Her parents were pseudo hippy Hare Krishnas, and I'm pretty convinced she grew up around pot; probably inhaled it since she was little. Why? She's reallllllly slow to understand things, especially if you use a metaphor of any kind. It's much more intense than being around a twenty-something who started smoking pot in college, even if they smoke regularly. This seems like permanent damage. Some recent examples:

Director/Buddy laughingly says, "You know, you've probably figured out by now that whatever you learn on this job is pretty much a trial by fire."
Mooch: "Fire? Is something on fire?"


Me: "Send these letters to the board members. There's one group for X county and another stack for Y county, so be sure not to get them mixed up."
Mooch: "How do I do that?"
Me: "Um. You put them in envelopes and address them."
Mooch: "Uh...envelopes? Where would I find those?" Envelopes are sitting on her desk. Literally front and center. She's sitting in front of them.
Me: "Probably there." Points to envelopes.
Mooch: "Oh. Those are envelopes?"


Director/Buddy laid a file on her desk with a note that said, "Phone number of client not working. Please find out why." She got it back on her desk with a return note from Mooch: "Tried to contact client--can't. Number out of order."


Director/Buddy, calling the office while out in the county: "I need you to get the green paper beside the refrigerator and fax it to the number on the upper lefthand corner."
Mooch: "There's a fax in the refrigerator??"


Jesus Mary Christ. You can't give her complicated directions. She doesn't listen to conversations, she just tunes out. So when you ask her something, she says, "Wha?", and you have to repeat the whole thing all over again. If she has multiple tasks to do, she gets overwhelmed and says she doesn't have the "time." We're talking addressing envelopes here, people, not major accounting. She still smells. I haven't figured out how to accurately combat that. So I Febreeze the office down when I come in. I know she's not learning impaired--she has a college bachelor's degree.

I dare you to guess what it's in.

-- Virgil

The Meme Hurts My Brain

So, Meg tagged me with a meme, which normally I like doing, but this one gave me an unintended stroke. Here's the instructions:

“Devise a list of 5-10 courses you would take to fix your life. It’s more fun to be in classes with friends, so include one class from the person who tagged you that you’d also like to take. Tag five.”

I thought at first this would be a fun thing to do, and then I realized the thought of taking one. more. class. absolutely put me over the edge. Which isn't Meg's fault, but my school's fault for stressing me out. So, I've decided that apart from picking the one class I'd like to take from Meg's list, part of the meme requirement, I'm going to devise classes that have absolutely no chance of ever becoming classes. It stresses me less to think that there's no way in hell I'll ever be required to take them!

Class 1: Ancient Religions 101. Meg picked this class, and I'd like to sit in on it with her. But I warn you, I can be a bad person to sit next to in class. I keep my own running tallies of made up categories to help me get through long classes or crappy situations. I've been known to make people guffaw in the middle of class, getting them into mild amounts of trouble. I'm also snarky. Basically, I'm the student that every teacher loves and hates to deal with. Some of my colleagues believe that I've scared most of the faculty silly by simply attending class. I've also been known to throw a class into chaos, i.e. recent conference experience, so you may not want to sit next to me. Maybe we'll take different sections and compare notes afterward?

Class 2: Bullshit Detection for Advanced Students. I think I've been through the 101 course, self-taught, in fact. I'm ready for the upperclassmen courses. I also think I could make an easy A. The answer to all the questions is, "Bullshit!"

Class 3: Prancing and Posturing in Translation 205. I can already stomp around and make sure people know I'm dissatisfied with something. I want to know how to put more nuance into my body language. I can currently say "I really don't like what just happened" with my posture. I want to be able to say, "I really don't like what just happened, and you have about a 3 second threshold to fix the problem before Hell comes to visit you personally." I want to be able to say that with one eyebrow alone.

Class 4: Bar Connoisseuring for the Intermediate Student. I'll have to be careful of the section I get in this one. I'm sure there are "karaoke bars", "country western bars", "good ol' boy's bars", "who wants to pick a fight bars", "rich people slumming bars", "gimme a beer and put on Metalica bars", and "swank bars" sections. While I've been in all of these bars, I think I'd prefer the "gimme a beer and put on Metalica bars" section. Hopefully the midterm and the final project will include a service learning/interning assignment. As I've not been thrown out of any bars, I'm still considered an Intermediate student, but I'll speak to my advisor about auditing the advanced section.

Class 5: 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. OK, this is actually a legitimate class that I tried to take and sat through during that recent crappy conference. It should've been named 7 Habits of Highly Ineffective Presenters. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. They rushed through the whole thing because of "time issues". Then pick 3 or 4 of the habits and cover them in detail, instead of trying to cram in the whole thing. You'd better believe I totally ripped into the session on those evaluations we have to do after each one. My best line was, "If this was any representation of Steven Covey's book, then I don't want to purchase it." That'll make everybody sit up and pay attention. I didn't get an Economics degree for nothing!

Class 6: Knocking Some Sense Into Students--Metaphorically, Of Course--for Advanced TA's. My students generally know which way is up, at least as far as my policies are concerned. I've only ever had a few of them argue with me, and that was after the semester was over via email about their final grade. I'm sure you can guess what resulted from that attempt. I've only ever had a marginal classroom disorder issue, and that was at the beginning of this semester from the climate the new group created. I actually teach Knocking Some Sense Into Students 101. I also tutor TA's individually in these issues. ("He said what to you? Send him an email and tell him X!!" Magically, the problem disappears.) However, I need some additional follow-up training on how to help students grab a clue, apart from hitting them with a clue-by-four.

Class 7: Students in Translation. As the second part to the previous class, I need some help on this one. I do not speak student very fluently at all. Some common mistranslation problems: How can they be on campus this long and not know where the computer stations are? What part of "class starts at 11:30" means "class starts when you get here"? What does it mean when you look at me like that? Is your head going to explode? What makes you think I understand IM speak in your emails? All of this is very troubling, and I think my career as an instructor would greatly benefit from figuring out how to translate student. It's tougher than Old English and makes even less sense!


Who I'm Tagging:

Bat Mite!: This meme was created just for him. It couldn't be any better if it said "build your own superhero who can only use household objects for weaponry." I expect great things, sir. Great things.

JP: For his caustic take on graduate school should lead to some pretty amusing classes.

Slop Drop: Just because I'm challenging him to come up with all wrestling related answers to this meme!

Kari: Because she will actually do the right thing with the meme.

And finally, Ramblings of a Procrastinator: because she needs to come and join the party!

-- Virgil

Bragging on My Little "Snowflakes"

"Snowflake" is the derisive term for students used by the good people over at Rate Your Students. To my fellow instructors who are on the net constantly, if you're not checking in with RYS daily, you're missing a good dose of hilarity on the academic profession. Grad students, full tenured profs and everything in between--sometimes students--put anonymous blog posts on that site. It's my daily dose of sanity. As a side note, I have the honor of being a repeat publisher there--something that only 3% of posters can claim!

But instead of slamming my students, I want to brag on them for just a minute. I've done something new with my classes this year, born of the fact that my mentor dropped me and my project like a hot potato during the 11th hour of our planning. Because I don't like quitting, I just used my community contacts and set the whole thing up anyway. ::sticks tongue out:: It's called "service learning", and basically it means I've figured out how to make the writing they have to do anyway bridge into the community. When we wrote our literacy narrative--a myopic little piece about how they learned to do something and how they've carried that skill to the point where they are today--I made them do "community literacy". This could be volunteering or service learning in high school or through church. I even planned for those with negative experiences or no experiences. I had several papers about how they had been forced to do service and never really saw the point of it; they ended their papers with how it could've been better and what they could've gotten out of it. I had students write about how they had no experience whatsoever, but if they could design the perfect experience, this is what they would do.

And you know, those papers were the best narratives I've ever seen since I've been reading them (and by now, that's about 168 papers). They couldn't just say "This is my little life and what I learned about it." They had to stretch to say what their experience said about their community. It was much less self-centered. Some of them even put in their reflective writing (sort of a little memo to me about their process throughout this paper), "You know? I've realized I'm a pretty self-centered bastard. That's gotta change." Thank you. My work here is done. Let's pack up our stuff and go home. If you can get a young person to figure out there's more to his/her life than their little melodramas, you've done the world a giant favor. The kid has a head start on life. Because it seems to me that most people are still pretty myopic and haven't figured out that their individual experiences really aren't quite as important in the grand scheme of things as they'd like to believe. I also learned that many of them had done quite a few things for the community. But it wasn't until they sat down to write about it that they realized how important it was. Or so they claim. :) They could be "glossing" me.

In between assignments, we've been doing readings about the importance of getting involved. Not the kinds of things that berate you for standing still. But the kinds of pieces that make you realize just how easy it is to do something. The latest one, which I am in love with, is called "Political Paralysis". I've linked it in case you want to use it. Fellow instructors will note with a heavy heart that at the end of her article, she describes herself as a PhD still looking for a job. But let's just keep our blinders on about the market, and stick with the moment, shall we? This piece sparked more conversation than I've had with them all semester. The important part of the piece for my purposes is when she describes walking by the railroad, finding trapped turtles and picking them up and setting them free. She says, "For those turtles, that much power that I have is enough."

So we talked about "flipping turtles," and how you don't have to be a Ghandi to do something that's appreciated and makes a difference. She uses the term "anonymous saints." Think of that insurance commercial about one person doing a good deed that sets off a chain of others doing good deeds, even if it's just picking up a kid's fallen toy. Their 3rd and 4th paper is an interview assignment and a multi-genre paper, respectively. Instead of interviewing their roommate, or some other relatively meaningless source, they have to go to a community agency and find out more about that agency and the issue it deals with. I even gave them a quiz and a handout to help match them up with the issues that they had more passion for. The best of the interviews my community partner is going to help get published in the local paper. Their multi-genre paper requires them to create eight original documents, and I'm requiring them to make three of those documents something that would potentially benefit the agency. The documents are supposed to show an issue from multiple points of view. So for the agency, they could create fliers, brochures, etc. and still have it fit in their project.

They were worried about doing something "good enough" for other people to use. So the "Political Paralysis" piece came just in time for them to see that it's the effort that matters most. As I told them, you aren't trying to singlehandedly fix the AIDS problem with a flier. You're just moving one small step closer. I've tried to talk this project up to them. They have to do the work anyway--it's required that 101 follow the same course and kinds of papers. I've just figured out a way to get it to "count" for something more. They get 10 service hours for this; many departments are requiring service learning projects just to get into the major. So hopefully my kids will have a leg up. Let's just hope they don't pee on anything...

Just the same, they're scared to death. They're good kids at heart (except for three bastards I can think of offhand), and they want to do the right thing. They are all doubtful of their writing abilities anyway--often for valid reasons--and they fear failure like the Black Death. But when we talk about it, I seem to see them putting their "game face" on. It's the same way Dante looks when he really doesn't want to do something because he thinks it will be too hard or scary, but he's going to push through and do it anyway. It's called staring the real world in the face. In one of their journal entries, one student wrote, "Oh my God, I realize what college is supposed to be about now. It's not just a piece of paper for a job. It's about life and being part of the world!"

You go, snowflake. I'm behind you all the way.

-- Virgil

It's So TRUE!

A YouTube clip about cats and mornings. So true, at least with my Fanny-pants Kitty-girl...

Notes From The Bizarre

A very weird thing happened to me after school one day last week. I was walking back to my car in the parking garage, and when I got there...it was covered with candy. Someone had artfully arranged candy all over my spoiler, hood and top of my car. At first I thought they were trying to send me a message, as the candy appeared to be dum-dum suckers. But then I noticed that Starbursts were also interspersed with the suckers--a conundrum! They were spaced evenly about every 6 inches or so. Suckers were sticking out of my side mirrors.

Because no good deed goes unpunished, I immediately worried that someone had done something to my car and was luring me into a false sense of security with the display of candy--like pouring sugar down my gas tank, or flattening my tires. Nothing seems to be wrong with the car, though.

I ran through the list of suspects. Possibly it was a mistake, and someone was trying to surprise their sorority sister who drives the same kind of car. Was someone trying to send me a message? Am I a sucker? Am I a dum dum? No one hates me enough to try something that dumb on me yet--I don't think. I haven't even pissed students off enough for that to happen--and they have no idea what I drive anyway. Then, a report came in that JP was seen leaving the parking garage a few minutes prior to my discovery of the candy, so of course, I figured Batmite! did it. JP claims this is not the case.

If you know anything about the details of this mysterious incident, please report it. No seriously, the curiosity is killing me.

-- Virgil

P.S. And, NO, I did not eat any of the candy. Who the hell knows where it's been??

Conference

I hate conferences.

It seems like the bad always outweighs the good. I recently attended the state adult education conference, and met/fought with people who were supposed to be high on the totem pole of adult ed. They're dumbasses. I have post traumatic conference syndrome. There is such a ridiculous difference between state paid workers and the rest of us.

For the first day, I sat through Ruby Payne training (which we were calling Payne-ful Training), and while it was long, it was very, very good. She's the founder of aha!process, which specializes in working with children from a culture of poverty. The gist of the training was that in order to better understand those we want to help, we need to understand that the culture of poverty works very differently than middle class culture; in order to break the cycle of poverty, we as service providers need to clue in to the rules that each culture is operating under in order to help the adults we serve make the jump from poverty to middle class. It's a good training, because so often we don't realize that we approach things from a middle class point of view.

For example, the middle class plans for the future while the culture of poverty lives day to day, for survival, essentially. Knowing how generational poverty works keeps us from saying things like "He just doesn't want to work" to saying "He doesn't have the skills to work this job, and that's why he quits after two weeks and blames it on the boss." It isn't passing the buck of individual responsibility; rather, it's recognizing that individual responsibility is a middle class ideal, and that poverty culture works on the principle of what's best for the family group. There were plenty of examples, and if you're really curious, you should check out her book . There are plenty of people who disagree with her research, but I have to say, from working firsthand with generational poverty, she's pretty spot on. Her citation method is weird, but that doesn't discount what she brings to the table.

Except, of course, if you're a self-righteous, overpaid bunch of jerks who really don't give a shit about serving anybody. Then you'd probably have a big problem with the idea.

While I was sitting through a session on getting the adults we serve to be more creative and critical thinkers, I was absolutely bored to tears. The material was full of euphemisms like "Think outside of the box!" Can anybody honestly describe what that actually means? And if everybody is trying to think outside of the box, doesn't that mean that nobody is really thinking outside of the box, but that we're all trying to be "unconventional" instead? When I finally heard this tripe, I had to blurt my piece out: "Teach them to go ahead and ask--what's the worst that can happen? All you'll get is a 'no', and then you're no worse off than when you started."

Sometimes that's the absolute worst place to be. Everyone turns around. I went through a small spiel about Ruby Payne training and understanding the culture of poverty, which didn't value planning ahead, and how could we better translate these ideas to the poverty class so that we can give them the hidden rules and tools to becoming middle class?

Shock and outrage. The answer from 9/10 of the room was that apparently we don't want them to become middle class. How dare we presume to foist our class on "those people"? We're certainly NOT of a certain "class", no way, nohow. And you know, people sometimes don't really know they're poor until someone points it out to them.

I called bullshit. Outloud. People know damned well when they're poor. They know when they can't pay the bills or have to go to a food bank at the end of the month because they can't stretch their food budget. It's also bullshit that we don't want them to become middle class. Higher education is a fucking middle class idea! It isn't the wealthy's idea. They go to school to make connections. It certainly wasn't the poor's idea, or they wouldn't be poor and uneducated, now would they?

I got more garbage about how they didn't consider themselves any class at all. To which I called more bullshit outloud. People who disregard class are simply blind to how class plays a roll in everyday life. You can claim it isn't there--that just makes you stupid. Yea, that went over well. But I was on a roll now. I pointed out that one of the primary things DHHR makes them go after is child support. Now, if we don't care about class, why would we make them pursue a middle class value like increasing your income base? Why would we bother offering GED classes? Every value we teach them from how to dress on the job to their etiquette on the job are middle class values. To claim that's not what you want to do is to deny what you're actually doing.

Some broad shot her mouth off about how there were just some people who didn't want to work; one man quit every job they placed him in after two weeks, claiming he just didn't get along with the boss. She declared he was just lazy and some of them are lazy and class has nothing to do with it. So I shot back, are you sure he was literate enough to do the job? That spun some heads back around. 20% of our adults are functionally illiterate, and there's another undocumented segment who actually have a high school diploma and still can't read. We've been in a crisis since the 70s, and nothing they've done has changed that. Did it ever occur to them that if they don't understand the culture of their clients, that they're going to continue with this crisis? Blank stares.

Oh, right. I guess it's probably good for business. If you want to keep your job, we should probably just let things go the way they are. Otherwise you'd be out of work, if people could actually read and better their lives.

One woman gave me the stink eye for the rest of the conference week. Was I bitchy about it? Yes, I sure as hell was. To see, for instance, one of the heads of Adult Ed in the state sitting there with gold cuff links and an expensive watch, paid for by me, thank you very much, knowing that under his watch he let adult ed go straight to hell pissed me off. Get on with it or get the hell out of the way and let someone else have a turn. These people don't admit anyone into their GED classes unless they're sure they have a good chance of passing the test--because it fucks up their numbers otherwise. They can show high success rates, but in reality, the people they toss to the side end up coming to my agency because they have no other help to go to.

Sometimes I think that the whole adult basic ed (ABE) thing should be opened up to private companies, but that has its flaws, too. I've worked two different government contracts issued to two different private companies--one for immigration and one for the Brady Bill--and there is no job security, pay is low, and benefits are shitty. Every 2-4 years, the corporation has to bid for the project again, so you could be out of a job before you know it. Management tends to be an absolute bastard, because they get paid by the unit, so you have to really churn it out to make profit. We were still a hell of a lot more effective and far less sadistic than the government immigration officials working at the airport or at the state offices. But as far as workers go, they get the better deal. As far as services went, they're not the best provider.

Something needs to change, or the state of adult ed is going to continue the way it is now--run by dumbasses with gold cuff links. Where are the other people who want to throw bricks at the system?? It's actually kind of fun, once your rage simmers down to a boil...

-- Virgil