Last few thoughts about the in-class essay coming up on Friday for English 1080:
1. Very important: Avoid plot summary. Don't just tell me what happens in the story. Discuss the implications of those details and events in the story. This can make all the difference in your grade.
2. Write your essay in present tense. Avoid tense shift (i.e. back and forth between past and present).
3. Avoid clichés and colloquial language (slang).
4. Use quotation properly. All quotes should be introduced or set up properly. Use phrases such as: "As the narrator says,...".
I truly hope this helps. See you tomorrow.
GC
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
English 1080 and Bob Dylan
I promised I'd post the lyrics to Bob Dylan's "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man," but I thought a clip of him performing it would be way better. Doesn't he look and sound like the kind of guy who could inspire Joyce Carol Oates to write a character like Arnold Friend?
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=oTqXizklz3U
GC
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=oTqXizklz3U
GC
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sure, We Can
I am not a cynical person, but sometimes I am cynical. Doubtful. Skeptical: in need of being shown the money instead of just promised the wonderful possibilities.
Yes, we can. But show me the money.
Tomorrow is a big day for the United States and for entire world. Not just because a new president is being sworn in, but because another, who has often been sworn at and leaves office in disgrace not seen since the heady days of Richard M. Nixon, is leaving.
That’s addition by subtraction. The best way to bring positive change to the world right now is to remove George W. Bush from the White House. Should have been done several years ago. He should have been impeached for his many lies and misleading of the American public, dragging the world through wars in Iraq and Afghanistan without hardly a thought, apparently, for the consequences. Then there’s Guantanamo Bay, the torturing of terror suspects, the tapping of people’s phones, and the general gross flaunting of presidential powers and the intrusion of government in places it doesn’t belong. Bush makes George Orwell look like a visitor from the future.
I see plenty of optimism for the new administration, led by Barack Obama, who takes office as the 44th president and the first non-white president of the United States. To me, he represents hope simply because he is so unlike Dubya. He is smart, articulate, open, and well-intentioned. Personally, I don’t care what color his skin happens to be. It matters to a lot of people, though, and I understand why it means so much to them—the election of one of their own to the top of the political heap is a dream worthy of Martin Luther King, perhaps the greatest orator the U.S. has ever seen. Many people thought they would never see this day. I always figured it would happen. It seemed inevitable, but there is so much racial tension in the U.S. and even in Canada that I was beginning to think I might never live to see it. It’s a little like waking up tomorrow morning and realizing that we are being visited by people from another planet. I mean, you sort of know they MUST be out there somewhere, but you wouldn’t quite believe that they would be coming here NOW, out of the blue and onto our t.v. screens.
We’ve seen a lot of things in our time that seemed impossible even twenty years ago. Some of them I wish we’d never seen—the terrible events of September 11, 2001. The breakdown of civilization in post-Katrina New Orleans. The recent crash of world stock markets and people uttering the “D” word. But there’s been good stuff too. I mean, not so long ago, landing on the moon and having someone step onto its surface seemed like pure science fiction. We now have technology which both brings us together and drives us apart, depending on how it’s used and who is using it.
It seems that we now stand on the verge, as a people, of something great. I wasn’t necessarily a Barack Obama fan from the beginning. I actually wanted to see Hillary Clinton get her shot, being more experienced, a good person, and in a position to become the first female president. It would give me great hope to see that women were finally able to break that barrier. As with the racial divide, there is still a long, long way to go in our world before women are seen as the equal of men, regardless of the color of their skin. I believe that what you believe is shown by what you do and not just what you say. And I do believe our world does not treat women equal to men. Nor will it treat black men and women equal to white men and women henceforth. Obama is a beginning, certainly, and he will likely inspire greater civility among people of different colors. But that should not be mistaken for a done deal. Racism (like sexism) is alive and well in the United States and in the world. There is still work to be done.
But there is hope.
In the long eight years that George W. Bush was in the White House, much hope has been lost. People didn’t care to protest the wrongs of the world because no one wanted to hear it. Even the media cast people in an unpatriotic light (hello, Dixie Chicks!) if they disapproved of the war or Mr. Bush. For several years they were on the Bush bandwagon, and now they’re on the Obama Express, riding it out until there’s a glitch in the system. The eight years before Bush, the focus was on Bill Clinton’s indiscretions with various women, including Monica Lewinsky. He was a great president and a misguided person. But his enemies blew it all out of proportion. So a great opportunity was wasted. The people grew pessimistic, expecting only the worst, which is generally what they got, from their politicians, from the media, and from big business like oil and pharmaceuticals.
What I’m feeling tonight is something I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m cautiously optimistic. I’m proud of the American people. I’m hopeful that there will be Obamas-to-come in Newfoundland politics, Canadian politics, and in the world at large—politicians with open minds, generous hearts, and intelligent bearings. Politicians who have a grasp on what is needed at the moment and are willing to do what it takes to achieve it, if it’s at all possible, for the good of the planet and the people who inhabit it.
I started out eight years ago thinking that the world was a good place and anything was possible. I spent nearly three-quarters of the Bush years in grad school, earning my Ph.D. while teaching at MUN. The workload took a heavy toll, as it tends to. I started in the fall of 2000, the year of the American election. By the time I finished my coursework, terrorists had destroyed the twin towers and left a scar on the psyche of a lot people. At that time, there was a lot of hope that people would heal together and get past it. The world reached out to the victims and to America. But the hand that reached back was cold and vengeful. In short order, the world was at war and everyone was worried about terrorists in their own backyard, on airplanes, in universities, in shopping malls. Their own government (and Canada is no exception to this) set out to make people so afraid of each other and of the unseen (but sometimes turbaned) enemy that they voted for Bush again, just so the bad guys wouldn’t be able to hurt them. Eventually, they came to see that the protector was the bad guy and that there was nothing to fear but being so afraid. Because so much fear will cripple you and kill you. By the time I finished my doctorate program, the economy was faltering, everyone was worried about climate change, and people weren’t talking in terms of dreams but of nightmares, both personal and national.
And now people are daring to hope once again. They’re literally dancing in the streets—not proclaiming (as they have a right to) that the king is dead, long live the king! No, they’re actually dancing out of joy and optimism and an outpouring of love and generosity—because one, slight, handsome-ish black man with an intelligent, cute wife, two adorable children, and an undeniable charisma and way with words, told them they could change the way things were being done. And if anyone doubted it, he told them, “Yes you can.”
Well, I have always believed that anyone could do anything and be anything they wanted. I myself have many things left to accomplish and intend to follow through. I’ve never doubted or wavered in my intentions or my beliefs.
But I can’t help but be worried when so many place so much faith in a single individual—as if HE could change THEM, instead of them doing it for themselves.
Instead of being worried about this, of course, I should be inspired. And I am. I don’t even worry about people being let down because I know that one man can only do so much, especially given a four-year time limit, perhaps longer, perhaps shorter. I just hope the people know this for themselves.
Right now, I just want to lay worry and concern aside and buy the message, drink the Kool-Aid, and smoke the peace pipe.
Right now is better than a year ago.
Right now is a good place to be.
Right now, though, I hope everyone’s paying attention. Because the times, as Bob Dylan says, they are a-changin’. And I think it’s for the better.
Come what may.
Change gonna come.
Yes, we can. But show me the money.
Tomorrow is a big day for the United States and for entire world. Not just because a new president is being sworn in, but because another, who has often been sworn at and leaves office in disgrace not seen since the heady days of Richard M. Nixon, is leaving.
That’s addition by subtraction. The best way to bring positive change to the world right now is to remove George W. Bush from the White House. Should have been done several years ago. He should have been impeached for his many lies and misleading of the American public, dragging the world through wars in Iraq and Afghanistan without hardly a thought, apparently, for the consequences. Then there’s Guantanamo Bay, the torturing of terror suspects, the tapping of people’s phones, and the general gross flaunting of presidential powers and the intrusion of government in places it doesn’t belong. Bush makes George Orwell look like a visitor from the future.
I see plenty of optimism for the new administration, led by Barack Obama, who takes office as the 44th president and the first non-white president of the United States. To me, he represents hope simply because he is so unlike Dubya. He is smart, articulate, open, and well-intentioned. Personally, I don’t care what color his skin happens to be. It matters to a lot of people, though, and I understand why it means so much to them—the election of one of their own to the top of the political heap is a dream worthy of Martin Luther King, perhaps the greatest orator the U.S. has ever seen. Many people thought they would never see this day. I always figured it would happen. It seemed inevitable, but there is so much racial tension in the U.S. and even in Canada that I was beginning to think I might never live to see it. It’s a little like waking up tomorrow morning and realizing that we are being visited by people from another planet. I mean, you sort of know they MUST be out there somewhere, but you wouldn’t quite believe that they would be coming here NOW, out of the blue and onto our t.v. screens.
We’ve seen a lot of things in our time that seemed impossible even twenty years ago. Some of them I wish we’d never seen—the terrible events of September 11, 2001. The breakdown of civilization in post-Katrina New Orleans. The recent crash of world stock markets and people uttering the “D” word. But there’s been good stuff too. I mean, not so long ago, landing on the moon and having someone step onto its surface seemed like pure science fiction. We now have technology which both brings us together and drives us apart, depending on how it’s used and who is using it.
It seems that we now stand on the verge, as a people, of something great. I wasn’t necessarily a Barack Obama fan from the beginning. I actually wanted to see Hillary Clinton get her shot, being more experienced, a good person, and in a position to become the first female president. It would give me great hope to see that women were finally able to break that barrier. As with the racial divide, there is still a long, long way to go in our world before women are seen as the equal of men, regardless of the color of their skin. I believe that what you believe is shown by what you do and not just what you say. And I do believe our world does not treat women equal to men. Nor will it treat black men and women equal to white men and women henceforth. Obama is a beginning, certainly, and he will likely inspire greater civility among people of different colors. But that should not be mistaken for a done deal. Racism (like sexism) is alive and well in the United States and in the world. There is still work to be done.
But there is hope.
In the long eight years that George W. Bush was in the White House, much hope has been lost. People didn’t care to protest the wrongs of the world because no one wanted to hear it. Even the media cast people in an unpatriotic light (hello, Dixie Chicks!) if they disapproved of the war or Mr. Bush. For several years they were on the Bush bandwagon, and now they’re on the Obama Express, riding it out until there’s a glitch in the system. The eight years before Bush, the focus was on Bill Clinton’s indiscretions with various women, including Monica Lewinsky. He was a great president and a misguided person. But his enemies blew it all out of proportion. So a great opportunity was wasted. The people grew pessimistic, expecting only the worst, which is generally what they got, from their politicians, from the media, and from big business like oil and pharmaceuticals.
What I’m feeling tonight is something I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m cautiously optimistic. I’m proud of the American people. I’m hopeful that there will be Obamas-to-come in Newfoundland politics, Canadian politics, and in the world at large—politicians with open minds, generous hearts, and intelligent bearings. Politicians who have a grasp on what is needed at the moment and are willing to do what it takes to achieve it, if it’s at all possible, for the good of the planet and the people who inhabit it.
I started out eight years ago thinking that the world was a good place and anything was possible. I spent nearly three-quarters of the Bush years in grad school, earning my Ph.D. while teaching at MUN. The workload took a heavy toll, as it tends to. I started in the fall of 2000, the year of the American election. By the time I finished my coursework, terrorists had destroyed the twin towers and left a scar on the psyche of a lot people. At that time, there was a lot of hope that people would heal together and get past it. The world reached out to the victims and to America. But the hand that reached back was cold and vengeful. In short order, the world was at war and everyone was worried about terrorists in their own backyard, on airplanes, in universities, in shopping malls. Their own government (and Canada is no exception to this) set out to make people so afraid of each other and of the unseen (but sometimes turbaned) enemy that they voted for Bush again, just so the bad guys wouldn’t be able to hurt them. Eventually, they came to see that the protector was the bad guy and that there was nothing to fear but being so afraid. Because so much fear will cripple you and kill you. By the time I finished my doctorate program, the economy was faltering, everyone was worried about climate change, and people weren’t talking in terms of dreams but of nightmares, both personal and national.
And now people are daring to hope once again. They’re literally dancing in the streets—not proclaiming (as they have a right to) that the king is dead, long live the king! No, they’re actually dancing out of joy and optimism and an outpouring of love and generosity—because one, slight, handsome-ish black man with an intelligent, cute wife, two adorable children, and an undeniable charisma and way with words, told them they could change the way things were being done. And if anyone doubted it, he told them, “Yes you can.”
Well, I have always believed that anyone could do anything and be anything they wanted. I myself have many things left to accomplish and intend to follow through. I’ve never doubted or wavered in my intentions or my beliefs.
But I can’t help but be worried when so many place so much faith in a single individual—as if HE could change THEM, instead of them doing it for themselves.
Instead of being worried about this, of course, I should be inspired. And I am. I don’t even worry about people being let down because I know that one man can only do so much, especially given a four-year time limit, perhaps longer, perhaps shorter. I just hope the people know this for themselves.
Right now, I just want to lay worry and concern aside and buy the message, drink the Kool-Aid, and smoke the peace pipe.
Right now is better than a year ago.
Right now is a good place to be.
Right now, though, I hope everyone’s paying attention. Because the times, as Bob Dylan says, they are a-changin’. And I think it’s for the better.
Come what may.
Change gonna come.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Notes on Classes
Two things:
In English 1080, we'll be starting the short story, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates on FRIDAY, January 16. (I may have said something different in class the other day.)
In English 1101, there will be no class on Wednesday, January 14. We will be starting on Cormac McCarthy's The Road on Monday coming.
In English 1080, we'll be starting the short story, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates on FRIDAY, January 16. (I may have said something different in class the other day.)
In English 1101, there will be no class on Wednesday, January 14. We will be starting on Cormac McCarthy's The Road on Monday coming.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Enter the Darkness
January might well be the cruelest month. Stark, cold, and dark. They say the longest journey begins with the first step, and so it is that the month of January presents the first few steps on the long journey of a year.
It’s a hard month for some. The lack of daylight wreaks havoc with the senses and can make it difficult just to function. I know some people who just want to hibernate at this time of year, to just hide under the covers until the sun and warmth return. Another Christmas is long past now, and that seems strange—the season of light and fellowship, gone in the blink of an eye. Nothing to do, it would appear, but to plod on through the dimmest days and do what needs doing.
But I choose to see January in a different light. For one thing, the days are actually getting longer now, with the winter solstice several weeks behind us. Not that I don’t find it a tough month. In some ways, I do. But mostly I equate January with newness. It’s a time to start over, to continue what we began last year, but also to get another chance to get it right. If things went horribly wrong or even slightly astray last year, especially towards the end, now is the time to start in the right direction, to make amends.
When I was growing up Catholic in rural Newfoundland, we might get that same feeling from the strange ritual of going to “confession”. You’d enter the confession box with a litany of sins on your lips and you’d spill them all to the priest as if he could actually forgive you. Then you’d leave the box (like a hockey player after he’s put in his five minutes for fighting), feeling renewed, cleansed—going forth to “sin no more,” as the priest would say.
Well, sinning no more is a nice idea, but we’re human and likely to falter eventually and often. And, of course, I really think the idea is that you really need to forgive yourself. No one else can do that for you. If you gained twenty pounds or lost the game for your team, or just got a "B" when you really could have gotten an "A," just let it go. There's no other way to move forward.
There’s something I like about January. According to one source, January is named for the Roman god Janus (Ianuarius in Latin), and the Latin word "ianua" which means "door." Janus is the god of the doorway, and so January is the door to the year (http://wiki.answers.com/). I like that way of looking at it, of entering the year through a door, looking around a strange, new room filled with possibilities. You see, it's really nearly impossible to enter a new room without leaving an old one behind.
Reminds me of all those home makeover shows on telelvision these days. Got an ugly room or a crappy old house? Just fix it up like new—some paint and materials, lots of time spent, and there you go: all new again. Just move that bus, enter through the front door, and it’s “welcome home, family, welcome home.”
So that’s how I see January—move the bus and welcome to a brand new year. The possibilities are endless.
To my new students this semester, in English 1101 and 1080: welcome. I hope you’ll find the room to your liking, but as with most makeovers, it all depends on what you put into it.
If you didn’t do so well last time, then figure out where you went wrong and resolve to fix it this time. For the sake of four months, it’s worth it. If you’re doing 1080 for the second time, then at least you’re giving yourself another chance—a rarity in life. I’m here to help, but only if you’re willing to help yourself.
For those of you doing the course for the first time (which is the vast majority), I hope to make the journey a good one for you. Again, that depends on you, largely. I intend to enlighten, entertain, education, rant and rave, provoke, prod, and muse aloud on a fairly regular basis—whatever it takes to help you get something out of this course, whether 1101 or 1080. And I hope you'll do the same. It’s not just about the literature, of course because literature—good literature, that is—is most often about life. And it doesn’t get any more serious than that.
But as Oscar Wilde once said, “Life is too important to be taken seriously.”
Happy new year, and welcome to the show.
GC
It’s a hard month for some. The lack of daylight wreaks havoc with the senses and can make it difficult just to function. I know some people who just want to hibernate at this time of year, to just hide under the covers until the sun and warmth return. Another Christmas is long past now, and that seems strange—the season of light and fellowship, gone in the blink of an eye. Nothing to do, it would appear, but to plod on through the dimmest days and do what needs doing.
But I choose to see January in a different light. For one thing, the days are actually getting longer now, with the winter solstice several weeks behind us. Not that I don’t find it a tough month. In some ways, I do. But mostly I equate January with newness. It’s a time to start over, to continue what we began last year, but also to get another chance to get it right. If things went horribly wrong or even slightly astray last year, especially towards the end, now is the time to start in the right direction, to make amends.
When I was growing up Catholic in rural Newfoundland, we might get that same feeling from the strange ritual of going to “confession”. You’d enter the confession box with a litany of sins on your lips and you’d spill them all to the priest as if he could actually forgive you. Then you’d leave the box (like a hockey player after he’s put in his five minutes for fighting), feeling renewed, cleansed—going forth to “sin no more,” as the priest would say.
Well, sinning no more is a nice idea, but we’re human and likely to falter eventually and often. And, of course, I really think the idea is that you really need to forgive yourself. No one else can do that for you. If you gained twenty pounds or lost the game for your team, or just got a "B" when you really could have gotten an "A," just let it go. There's no other way to move forward.
There’s something I like about January. According to one source, January is named for the Roman god Janus (Ianuarius in Latin), and the Latin word "ianua" which means "door." Janus is the god of the doorway, and so January is the door to the year (http://wiki.answers.com/). I like that way of looking at it, of entering the year through a door, looking around a strange, new room filled with possibilities. You see, it's really nearly impossible to enter a new room without leaving an old one behind.
Reminds me of all those home makeover shows on telelvision these days. Got an ugly room or a crappy old house? Just fix it up like new—some paint and materials, lots of time spent, and there you go: all new again. Just move that bus, enter through the front door, and it’s “welcome home, family, welcome home.”
So that’s how I see January—move the bus and welcome to a brand new year. The possibilities are endless.
To my new students this semester, in English 1101 and 1080: welcome. I hope you’ll find the room to your liking, but as with most makeovers, it all depends on what you put into it.
If you didn’t do so well last time, then figure out where you went wrong and resolve to fix it this time. For the sake of four months, it’s worth it. If you’re doing 1080 for the second time, then at least you’re giving yourself another chance—a rarity in life. I’m here to help, but only if you’re willing to help yourself.
For those of you doing the course for the first time (which is the vast majority), I hope to make the journey a good one for you. Again, that depends on you, largely. I intend to enlighten, entertain, education, rant and rave, provoke, prod, and muse aloud on a fairly regular basis—whatever it takes to help you get something out of this course, whether 1101 or 1080. And I hope you'll do the same. It’s not just about the literature, of course because literature—good literature, that is—is most often about life. And it doesn’t get any more serious than that.
But as Oscar Wilde once said, “Life is too important to be taken seriously.”
Happy new year, and welcome to the show.
GC
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Endings and Beginnings
Big day today, as I submitted final grades for my courses. It’s always such a hectic time, these last few days of the semester. Whenever you think you’ve got it all done, there are always new details to be taken care.
Beyond all the work is the emotional aspect of this time of the semester. Inevitably, there will be those students who struggle and don’t do as well as I, or they, wanted them to. For some reason, they froze in the exam room or just couldn’t get it in gear. Then there are those that chose not to do their best, especially near the end of the semester, even though they were doing well in the course. I often wonder what happens—what goes so wrong in a person’s life that the thing they’ve invested so much money in, so much of themselves in, and so many hopes and dreams in—that it suddenly takes a back seat to everything. So they don’t bother showing up for class, thinking it won’t hurt their grades. But it does. Or they don’t pass in that last essay, or they just do a sloppy job on it, thinking that whatever they pass in will get the same grade. Not true. Rarely is. These are the kinds of people I feel slip through my fingers, making me wish I could have one last chance to help them, just to show them that there’s a better way to end the semester after having done so much work already. But there’s nothing I can do. Nothing they can do. Just let it go.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Then there are the students who sort of floated under the radar all semester, who didn’t raise their hands in class, never came to see me in my office, only hoped to get by day after day without being noticed. If that was the goal, then, to some extent, they succeeded. But I always notice when someone’s trying not to be noticed. They become like ghosts in my daily life, and, as a person who’s made a life out of studying and writing about ghostly figures, they would actually be the first ones I’d take note of and remember. I understand the need to be still, to be silent, to hope the danger passes. Maybe it’s out of self-preservation, a sense of fear, of not really wanting to participate except to observe. Maybe some of you are even reading this blog. Just want you to know: I get it. It’s okay by me. I’m not sure my approval would (or should) even matter. But just letting you know.
Not Waving, But Drowning
Of course, then there are the students who inspire—who somehow find a way to do better than they have all semester. Now, this rarely happens unless a student has been working hard and coming to see me in my office to talk things over once in a while, and genuinely striving to improve their thought process and their ability to express those thoughts both aloud and on paper. There are always a few students who surprise me on the final exam by suddenly showing that they “get” it—that they finally understand what it is I’ve been saying to them all semester long. Thankfully, there were some of those this time around, and I was only too happy to reward them for their enlightenment because it is an enlightenment that comes only from hard work and perseverance. Those qualities are not always rewarded in life, and it’s nice when they are.
I appreciated those of you have taken the time to stop by and say a few words, either in my office or at the end of the exam, to say you enjoyed the experience this past semester. It reminds me of why I teach—because I want to inspire, to make you want to learn, to be better able to express what you see in the world, to be able to see and understand more of what the world, and your own life, reveals to you. It is a sad person who is filled with experience and thought but is unable to share insight for lack of the right words. If I can somehow contribute to your own ability to communicate your thoughts and feelings, or to introduce you to an author or poet who inspires you, or simply to entertain you on your way for a few minutes every day, I am honored for the privilege.
There are many of you I will never forget, but, alas, many of you whom I will forget in time—I will always remember your faces, even when your name inevitably gets lost in the sea of names that whirls in my head like thousands of leaves in a hurricane. Right now, your faces and names are fresh in my mind and I am aware of so many hopes and triumphs, and so much heartache and sadness at the same time, that you have gone through in these past four months alone. When I look out across the exam room, or when I put in those final grades, I think of you, what I know about you, imagine how I think you will react to the number. And in the end, it is just a number, even if you are not. It doesn’t define you. I did my best, as I hope you did, to ensure that that number reflects the quality of your effort in the past few months. But that truly depends on a communication between you and me. In that regard, I’ve done everything I can. The rest, as I like to say, is between you and your God. Only you can say whether you showed up each day. And if you showed up, did you have something to say?
And the other voices—mine, fellow students, the authors we studied—did you allow them to speak to you? Or did you close your mind, along with your eyes? Sometimes, just showing up is not enough. Sure, it can be an act of bravery to show up (not just in class, literally, but in life, figuratively)—to make the moments count for something. You have to be present in order to truly live. If you managed to do that, then you’ve impressed me. More important, I hope you impressed yourself. Because sometimes it’s just not that easy.
I plan to keep writing in this blog over the holidays, to lighten things up or to put some things in perspective, mostly having to do with my own life experiences and observations. If you’re still reading this, I’m assuming you’re along for the ride, willing to see where this one goes.
Right now, it goes to stores around the St. John’s area, as starting tomorrow the Christmas shopping must begin in earnest. After that, a few days of well-earned rest, hopefully. It won’t be too long before the preparation for next semester must begin.
*Shudder.*
Best not to think about it.
Best to keep on moving. Except, occasionally, to stop by woods on a snowy evening. Or at least for an afternoon at the movies with my loving, patient wife.
See you around.
Thanks for being present.
Beyond all the work is the emotional aspect of this time of the semester. Inevitably, there will be those students who struggle and don’t do as well as I, or they, wanted them to. For some reason, they froze in the exam room or just couldn’t get it in gear. Then there are those that chose not to do their best, especially near the end of the semester, even though they were doing well in the course. I often wonder what happens—what goes so wrong in a person’s life that the thing they’ve invested so much money in, so much of themselves in, and so many hopes and dreams in—that it suddenly takes a back seat to everything. So they don’t bother showing up for class, thinking it won’t hurt their grades. But it does. Or they don’t pass in that last essay, or they just do a sloppy job on it, thinking that whatever they pass in will get the same grade. Not true. Rarely is. These are the kinds of people I feel slip through my fingers, making me wish I could have one last chance to help them, just to show them that there’s a better way to end the semester after having done so much work already. But there’s nothing I can do. Nothing they can do. Just let it go.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Then there are the students who sort of floated under the radar all semester, who didn’t raise their hands in class, never came to see me in my office, only hoped to get by day after day without being noticed. If that was the goal, then, to some extent, they succeeded. But I always notice when someone’s trying not to be noticed. They become like ghosts in my daily life, and, as a person who’s made a life out of studying and writing about ghostly figures, they would actually be the first ones I’d take note of and remember. I understand the need to be still, to be silent, to hope the danger passes. Maybe it’s out of self-preservation, a sense of fear, of not really wanting to participate except to observe. Maybe some of you are even reading this blog. Just want you to know: I get it. It’s okay by me. I’m not sure my approval would (or should) even matter. But just letting you know.
Not Waving, But Drowning
Of course, then there are the students who inspire—who somehow find a way to do better than they have all semester. Now, this rarely happens unless a student has been working hard and coming to see me in my office to talk things over once in a while, and genuinely striving to improve their thought process and their ability to express those thoughts both aloud and on paper. There are always a few students who surprise me on the final exam by suddenly showing that they “get” it—that they finally understand what it is I’ve been saying to them all semester long. Thankfully, there were some of those this time around, and I was only too happy to reward them for their enlightenment because it is an enlightenment that comes only from hard work and perseverance. Those qualities are not always rewarded in life, and it’s nice when they are.
I appreciated those of you have taken the time to stop by and say a few words, either in my office or at the end of the exam, to say you enjoyed the experience this past semester. It reminds me of why I teach—because I want to inspire, to make you want to learn, to be better able to express what you see in the world, to be able to see and understand more of what the world, and your own life, reveals to you. It is a sad person who is filled with experience and thought but is unable to share insight for lack of the right words. If I can somehow contribute to your own ability to communicate your thoughts and feelings, or to introduce you to an author or poet who inspires you, or simply to entertain you on your way for a few minutes every day, I am honored for the privilege.
There are many of you I will never forget, but, alas, many of you whom I will forget in time—I will always remember your faces, even when your name inevitably gets lost in the sea of names that whirls in my head like thousands of leaves in a hurricane. Right now, your faces and names are fresh in my mind and I am aware of so many hopes and triumphs, and so much heartache and sadness at the same time, that you have gone through in these past four months alone. When I look out across the exam room, or when I put in those final grades, I think of you, what I know about you, imagine how I think you will react to the number. And in the end, it is just a number, even if you are not. It doesn’t define you. I did my best, as I hope you did, to ensure that that number reflects the quality of your effort in the past few months. But that truly depends on a communication between you and me. In that regard, I’ve done everything I can. The rest, as I like to say, is between you and your God. Only you can say whether you showed up each day. And if you showed up, did you have something to say?
And the other voices—mine, fellow students, the authors we studied—did you allow them to speak to you? Or did you close your mind, along with your eyes? Sometimes, just showing up is not enough. Sure, it can be an act of bravery to show up (not just in class, literally, but in life, figuratively)—to make the moments count for something. You have to be present in order to truly live. If you managed to do that, then you’ve impressed me. More important, I hope you impressed yourself. Because sometimes it’s just not that easy.
I plan to keep writing in this blog over the holidays, to lighten things up or to put some things in perspective, mostly having to do with my own life experiences and observations. If you’re still reading this, I’m assuming you’re along for the ride, willing to see where this one goes.
Right now, it goes to stores around the St. John’s area, as starting tomorrow the Christmas shopping must begin in earnest. After that, a few days of well-earned rest, hopefully. It won’t be too long before the preparation for next semester must begin.
*Shudder.*
Best not to think about it.
Best to keep on moving. Except, occasionally, to stop by woods on a snowy evening. Or at least for an afternoon at the movies with my loving, patient wife.
See you around.
Thanks for being present.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Blog #3: Exam Talk
So it comes down to this.
This is my third blog entry for the day. Keep reading after the end of this post. Please cast a vote in my poll, on the right hand side of this blog entry. Also, I have office hours tomorrow (Thursday) afternoon from 2:30 to 3:30, possibly longer if numbers warrant.
The final exam for English 1080 is on Friday, December 12 @ 9 a.m. in the Phys. Ed. Gymnasium. My students go to the left just as you enter the gym. Look for me standing there in the back of the rows where you’re supposed to be sitting.
There’s not much left to say at this point that hasn’t been already said a half dozen times, but there is likely some full-blown, and half-blown, anxiety going on out there, I’m sure. So I’m hoping to calm some nerves by talking a little about what to expect.
First, I’ll be having office hours Thursday afternoon, the day before the exam, starting at 2:30 and ending (most likely) at 3:30, depending on how many people show up. I’ll certainly stay longer if there is anyone waiting to see me. In fact, I’ll stay until there’s no one left to see, just as I’ve done all semester long. Friday morning, I’ll try to be around before the exam, but I need to be in the gym well before exam time just to get things set up.
The exam has two parts, Part A being “Poetry” and Part B being “Short Stories”. Make sure you flip over the page because there are two sides to the exam just as there are at least two sides to everything. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to answer ONE question from each section, for a total of TWO essays.
Make sure you’re writing the correct exam: the one with MY name on the top right hand corner.
The questions are straightforward, but make sure you understand what you are being asked to write about, and focus on answering the question directly. The idea, of course, is to show me what you know about the two stories (or poems) as it pertains to the subject I’ve given you to write about. Remember: the questions are designed for you to show me what you know, not what you don’t know.
It’s a two and a half hour exam, so take time to get your thoughts together by making notes to yourself before you begin. You’ll need about an hour to write each essay, with a little time left over. If you’ve had certain problems all semester long (especially comma splice, sentence fragment, tense shift, and passive voice), make sure you take time to go back over the essay and make corrections.
VERY IMPORTANT: Make sure you write TWO strong essays. Don’t spend all your time on the first question and leave yourself less time for the second one. Your grade will probably suffer if you don’t manage your time well. I’ve seen far too many exams in which a student wrote only one good essay and ran out of time for the second one. So time management is crucial once you’re in the exam room. By 10:15 a.m. or so, you should be starting on the second question. I don’t care which order you do them in, just make sure you clearly mark which number you’re answering, as well as which section.
How to prepare? For the short story section, just know the tales really well. If there’s one that you don’t feel strongly about, you’re not likely to use it on the exam. But I would re-familiarize myself with four or five stories, paying attention to the details, maybe some images, symbols, quotations, entire scenes, and so on that stood out during the semester when we talked about these stories. When you’re writing the exam, you should be able to envision how the plot, or character journey, goes from beginning to end, focusing on the key moments (with some detail) along the way. This trick will be immensely helpful when you’re writing and trying to recall certain parts of the story, giving yourself more and more to talk about as you go. If you focus on the literal and/or figurative journey each character takes and how the character has changed by the end of the story, then you will be well-prepared. (Of course, remember that no character exists in isolation: feel free to discuss other characters as well, showing how they relate to what you’re proving about the protagonist, or even a minor character. It’s always your choice as to which characters you will discuss.)
The same is true for the poetry, of course. We talked about them quite a bit in class, so certain images, symbols, word choices, and other poetic techniques should stand out in your mind as you re-read. You should be familiar with the poems as much as possible, enough so that you can do a comparative analysis of two of them. Certain poems go really well together, while others are more of a stretch, but might prove to be an interesting contrast to one another on an exam—your choice. Don’t just try and memorize the poems. It will work better for you if you go through each poem, word by word, line by line, and figure out what it means for you that way. It will make more sense to you now than it did the first time you read it or we read it together in class.
Again: there’s no substitute for knowing the literature (both stories and poems) really well. Success is rarely dependent upon luck (like crossing your fingers and hoping for the right questions). Success is more likely if you have a game plan, just as in any sport or competition or test of one’s self.
In a way, that’s what this is all about—you’re being tested as much on how you react to adversity as you are on the stories themselves. The vast majority of you will probably do just fine in that regard. All of you, I hope, will at least be able to say, when this is over, that you can look at yourself in the mirror, knowing you at least showed up and tried your best. For any exam, 95% of the work is done before you even show up in the classroom.
I’ll be blogging at least once more before the end of term, likely after the final exams have been written, just to sign off for the semester. Meanwhile, if you have question, feel free to e-mail me at gnc@nf.sympatico.ca.
This is my third blog entry for the day. Keep reading after the end of this post. Please cast a vote in my poll, on the right hand side of this blog entry. Also, I have office hours tomorrow (Thursday) afternoon from 2:30 to 3:30, possibly longer if numbers warrant.
The final exam for English 1080 is on Friday, December 12 @ 9 a.m. in the Phys. Ed. Gymnasium. My students go to the left just as you enter the gym. Look for me standing there in the back of the rows where you’re supposed to be sitting.
There’s not much left to say at this point that hasn’t been already said a half dozen times, but there is likely some full-blown, and half-blown, anxiety going on out there, I’m sure. So I’m hoping to calm some nerves by talking a little about what to expect.
First, I’ll be having office hours Thursday afternoon, the day before the exam, starting at 2:30 and ending (most likely) at 3:30, depending on how many people show up. I’ll certainly stay longer if there is anyone waiting to see me. In fact, I’ll stay until there’s no one left to see, just as I’ve done all semester long. Friday morning, I’ll try to be around before the exam, but I need to be in the gym well before exam time just to get things set up.
The exam has two parts, Part A being “Poetry” and Part B being “Short Stories”. Make sure you flip over the page because there are two sides to the exam just as there are at least two sides to everything. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to answer ONE question from each section, for a total of TWO essays.
Make sure you’re writing the correct exam: the one with MY name on the top right hand corner.
The questions are straightforward, but make sure you understand what you are being asked to write about, and focus on answering the question directly. The idea, of course, is to show me what you know about the two stories (or poems) as it pertains to the subject I’ve given you to write about. Remember: the questions are designed for you to show me what you know, not what you don’t know.
It’s a two and a half hour exam, so take time to get your thoughts together by making notes to yourself before you begin. You’ll need about an hour to write each essay, with a little time left over. If you’ve had certain problems all semester long (especially comma splice, sentence fragment, tense shift, and passive voice), make sure you take time to go back over the essay and make corrections.
VERY IMPORTANT: Make sure you write TWO strong essays. Don’t spend all your time on the first question and leave yourself less time for the second one. Your grade will probably suffer if you don’t manage your time well. I’ve seen far too many exams in which a student wrote only one good essay and ran out of time for the second one. So time management is crucial once you’re in the exam room. By 10:15 a.m. or so, you should be starting on the second question. I don’t care which order you do them in, just make sure you clearly mark which number you’re answering, as well as which section.
How to prepare? For the short story section, just know the tales really well. If there’s one that you don’t feel strongly about, you’re not likely to use it on the exam. But I would re-familiarize myself with four or five stories, paying attention to the details, maybe some images, symbols, quotations, entire scenes, and so on that stood out during the semester when we talked about these stories. When you’re writing the exam, you should be able to envision how the plot, or character journey, goes from beginning to end, focusing on the key moments (with some detail) along the way. This trick will be immensely helpful when you’re writing and trying to recall certain parts of the story, giving yourself more and more to talk about as you go. If you focus on the literal and/or figurative journey each character takes and how the character has changed by the end of the story, then you will be well-prepared. (Of course, remember that no character exists in isolation: feel free to discuss other characters as well, showing how they relate to what you’re proving about the protagonist, or even a minor character. It’s always your choice as to which characters you will discuss.)
The same is true for the poetry, of course. We talked about them quite a bit in class, so certain images, symbols, word choices, and other poetic techniques should stand out in your mind as you re-read. You should be familiar with the poems as much as possible, enough so that you can do a comparative analysis of two of them. Certain poems go really well together, while others are more of a stretch, but might prove to be an interesting contrast to one another on an exam—your choice. Don’t just try and memorize the poems. It will work better for you if you go through each poem, word by word, line by line, and figure out what it means for you that way. It will make more sense to you now than it did the first time you read it or we read it together in class.
Again: there’s no substitute for knowing the literature (both stories and poems) really well. Success is rarely dependent upon luck (like crossing your fingers and hoping for the right questions). Success is more likely if you have a game plan, just as in any sport or competition or test of one’s self.
In a way, that’s what this is all about—you’re being tested as much on how you react to adversity as you are on the stories themselves. The vast majority of you will probably do just fine in that regard. All of you, I hope, will at least be able to say, when this is over, that you can look at yourself in the mirror, knowing you at least showed up and tried your best. For any exam, 95% of the work is done before you even show up in the classroom.
I’ll be blogging at least once more before the end of term, likely after the final exams have been written, just to sign off for the semester. Meanwhile, if you have question, feel free to e-mail me at gnc@nf.sympatico.ca.
Rock the Vote!
Yes, you too can make a difference. You can't actually vote for change in government (not today, at least), but you can let me know how you felt about parts of English 1080 this semester. I'm constantly changing and adjusting my courses, so I'd truly appreciate it if you'd take the time to go to the "vote caster" at the top right of this blog and let me know what's what. Just click on "Cast Your Vote" and you're there. It's completely anonymous and, best of all, it's free and for a somewhat worthwhile cause.
More blogging again later today.
Again: office hours tomorrow afternoon (see blog entry below).
More blogging again later today.
Again: office hours tomorrow afternoon (see blog entry below).
Extra Office Hour
I'll blog more about the final exam for English 1080 later today--got a few things to say.
For now, I just wanted say I'll be in my office tomorrow afternoon (Thursday), from 2:30 p.m. until 3:30 p.m. or so. If the numbers warrant, I'll certainly stay longer. So if you have a quick question or two, drop by. Because time is so short and it is last minute, I'll be asking you to keep it short, though, so I can manage to see everyone.
Hope to see you. More blogging later. Hope your studying is going well.
GC
For now, I just wanted say I'll be in my office tomorrow afternoon (Thursday), from 2:30 p.m. until 3:30 p.m. or so. If the numbers warrant, I'll certainly stay longer. So if you have a quick question or two, drop by. Because time is so short and it is last minute, I'll be asking you to keep it short, though, so I can manage to see everyone.
Hope to see you. More blogging later. Hope your studying is going well.
GC
Monday, December 1, 2008
Yesterday
Hey there. Haven't posted in a while so I thought I'd pop in and say some stuff.
I won't say too much because last classes are coming on Wednesday. I'll say it all then, most likely, and anything that's left to say I'll say it here when the time comes.
So many things I've been wanting to comment on, but because of the constraints on my time, I haven't been able to.
I recall a week or so ago there was big news out of the Vatican that they'd "forgiven" John Lennon for his remark forty years ago that "the Beatles are bigger than Jesus". They issued a statement that said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that the Beatles music was so much better and important than the music being made today. John was apparently speaking out of his misguided youth and sudden fame, too out of his mind with celebrity to understand the consequence and import of his words. But all is forgiven now. Horse, the barn door is now behind you.
Well, roll over Tchaikovsky and tell John Lennon the news! I'm sure John would be chuckling over that one if he were alive. Forgiveness? First of all, for what? Second of all, who died and made you God?
Also, and here's my real point: how the H-E-double-hockey-sticks would they know what good music was? Has the new pope (whoever he is; I can never remember his name, but for some reason, I can't get that face out of my mind) been listening to Beyonce and Nelly, or maybe R. Kelly or Kanye West? Is that where the comparison comes from? I wonder what the pope has on his iPod these days. Could it be...the Beatles? Maybe The White Album--the one with "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?" and "Happiness is a Warm Gun" and "Helter Skelter"--you know: the Charlie Manson serial killer theme song.
I love the Beatles' music, personally. I never thought they were so bad. I also happen to think that blasphemy is possible only in the face of extreme seriousness and, dare I say, arrogance. But yesterday's blasphemy seems so far away. And hindsight's got 20/20 vision. It's like looking through a glass onion, I guess. All is I know, I can hardly imagine (pardon the expression) that all those young Christians to whom the Vatican is suddenly trying to appeal running out and buying Rubber Soul and Revolver just because the new old pope thinks they're okay now. Of course, I don't image the young Christians were ever into Beyonce and Nelly to begin with. Or maybe I'm wrong.
Anyway, I think it's all just a big reminder to not take any of it so seriously, starting with ourselves and including music and religion.
As for John Lennon, well, maybe now his soul will be free to haunt some other institution. Or maybe he'll finally be able to go into the light, knowing that the pope forgives his sins.
Or maybe, just maybe, he's still befuddled about what the fuss is all about. Betcha.
I won't say too much because last classes are coming on Wednesday. I'll say it all then, most likely, and anything that's left to say I'll say it here when the time comes.
So many things I've been wanting to comment on, but because of the constraints on my time, I haven't been able to.
I recall a week or so ago there was big news out of the Vatican that they'd "forgiven" John Lennon for his remark forty years ago that "the Beatles are bigger than Jesus". They issued a statement that said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that the Beatles music was so much better and important than the music being made today. John was apparently speaking out of his misguided youth and sudden fame, too out of his mind with celebrity to understand the consequence and import of his words. But all is forgiven now. Horse, the barn door is now behind you.
Well, roll over Tchaikovsky and tell John Lennon the news! I'm sure John would be chuckling over that one if he were alive. Forgiveness? First of all, for what? Second of all, who died and made you God?
Also, and here's my real point: how the H-E-double-hockey-sticks would they know what good music was? Has the new pope (whoever he is; I can never remember his name, but for some reason, I can't get that face out of my mind) been listening to Beyonce and Nelly, or maybe R. Kelly or Kanye West? Is that where the comparison comes from? I wonder what the pope has on his iPod these days. Could it be...the Beatles? Maybe The White Album--the one with "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?" and "Happiness is a Warm Gun" and "Helter Skelter"--you know: the Charlie Manson serial killer theme song.
I love the Beatles' music, personally. I never thought they were so bad. I also happen to think that blasphemy is possible only in the face of extreme seriousness and, dare I say, arrogance. But yesterday's blasphemy seems so far away. And hindsight's got 20/20 vision. It's like looking through a glass onion, I guess. All is I know, I can hardly imagine (pardon the expression) that all those young Christians to whom the Vatican is suddenly trying to appeal running out and buying Rubber Soul and Revolver just because the new old pope thinks they're okay now. Of course, I don't image the young Christians were ever into Beyonce and Nelly to begin with. Or maybe I'm wrong.
Anyway, I think it's all just a big reminder to not take any of it so seriously, starting with ourselves and including music and religion.
As for John Lennon, well, maybe now his soul will be free to haunt some other institution. Or maybe he'll finally be able to go into the light, knowing that the pope forgives his sins.
Or maybe, just maybe, he's still befuddled about what the fuss is all about. Betcha.
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