Taking Stock of the Year (2015)

Image from Wikimedia Commons

It's hard to believe that this year is almost over. It has flown by. Even as I write those words, they feel somewhat trite and cliche, but they fit. This has been a fast-moving year, and I feel like for the most part, all I was able to do was hold on. This last bit of the year has been tough/crazy, as I started working as an adjunct at another school (in addition to where I previously worked).

Learning the ropes at a new place, and meeting new demands, has not been easy. Also, the miles put on my car and body to get to both places (100-mile round trips each day) has taken its toll. I FEEL tired. I am ready for a break. Luckily, I am within striking distance of Christmas break now, and I'm really hoping that the rest, relaxation, and time with family and friends is going to renew my spirits. 

I feel like I worked really hard this year. I don't have much to show for it. The paltry paychecks earned from my adjunct work don't 't show the long hours of planning, grading, and reaching out to students. But, my experience in teaching continues to grow. Right now, I don't have any resumes out, and at least locally, I do not see any full-time opportunities on my horizon. I tried for one earlier in the year and missed out. The competition was stiff - 60 applicants from across the nation, some of whom no doubt had PhDs.

At the close, I am trying to take stock and make sense of this year. I have struggled to understand what progress and success looks like in my life at this moment. I am nearly 30, but I really feel like a lot of loose ends have not come together in my life. No house, no career (at least not full-time), and still eking by on the bare essentials.

In a lot of ways, I just don't feel like life is living up to what I imagined. Now, of course, this is a very "first world problems"-oriented viewpoint. I know I have more in my life and more opportunities than most of the world, but in the rat race of American society, I FEEL lacking. I feel like somehow I was not able to make success happen. Maybe I didn't work hard enough? Go to the right schools? Meet the right people? These questions can spiral into the ingredients necessary for an existential crisis. 

I try to stave off those existential feelings because they usually don't lead down healthy avenues of thought. Instead, I try to be thankful and grateful for the things I do have. The things that are working out. And, the many lessons I am learning about adulthood - most of them un-sexy and un-fun, but great lessons nonetheless. 

I have been thinking about what I might like the next year to look like, and I'm still at a loss. I am reluctant to set any goals, aspirations, or resolutions at this point. Thinking about next year and what I would want to achieve makes me weary. I feel like my TRY meter is broken. I have tried a lot of things/worked hard in the past five years or so, and sometimes I struggle to see the big picture. Have those lessons/experiences added up to anything? Have they brought me to a good place? I am still wrestling with those answers. To tell the truth, I'm not sure. But, I did try, damn it. 

I was listening to a Wilco song called "You Are My Face" recently and it seemed to speak to this juncture and crossroads in my life:

"I have no idea how this happens
All of my maps have been overthrown
Happenstance has changed my plans
So many times my heart has been outgrown"

(Singer-Songwriter Jeff Tweedy from Wilco)

This really seems to encapsulate how I am feeling lately. How do you plan when you no longer feel like planning? I have made great plans in the past 10 years - I feel like I did my best with my 20s. But, here in the twilight of my 20s, and the doorstep of my 30s, I feel like many of those plans didn't pan out, or had to change to flow with life. Try as we may to plan our lives, life, God, Fate, Time etc. often can and does step in - and not always in the most pleasing ways. 

You don't win any friends being down in the dumps like this, so try to find the silver lining to every cloud. I am living my only life. So, I will try to enjoy it in any and every way I can. I will try to get meaning out of it, even in the tough, unforgiving times.

Teaching as a Learning Process

Teaching is a learning process. Many see teaching as the end product, as merely a teaching process (lectures, lessons, notes, etc.). The result of all your efforts in preparation. But that preparation is always is always a learning process, as is seeing your plans unfold in the classroom. Some things work, and other things fall flat on their face.

I often find myself in the classroom trying to make a connection/analogy/example/etc. and the students can't see it. The connection falls flat. In these moments, you have to quickly go back to the drawing board to come up with something better - something students can wrap their heads around, chew on.

A World War I general once said, and I'm paragraphing here, that no plan survives the first attack. After the first attack, the plan changes. Always. Teaching is a lot like this. Teaching I believe is about 50 percent planning and 50 percent improvisation. The 50 percent improvisation may seem a little high to many, but I think that its true. That doesn't mean that 50 percent of the time you are freewheeling in the classroom, no, it just means that 50 percent of the time you are adjusting your plans, making small corrections and changes to make sure that the learning process is going smoothly for students. 

I have been teaching for a few years now, and I continue to learn more about the craft and calling each day. When you see that students are learning/understanding/applying the concepts you are teaching, and you are connecting with your class, that experience can be great. But, when you are falling short, you can feel that, too, and it is not a great experience.

The goal is the maximize those experiences where you are connecting with the class. Of course, this gets harder as the semester wears on. Students interest in your course/subject begins to wane, as they are thinking about the NEXT semester, and the NEXT thing. It is in these times that you really have to work hard to ensure that students still tune into your class.

In the Head and Being thankful

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Lately, I have been second-guessing myself as a teacher. Each semester starts out with a lot joy and optimism of what is ahead, and then towards the end, it becomes more like a dark night of the soul kind of moment. I think this has to do with the part-time, adjunct status I have at each of the schools I teach at. There is a lot of insecurity, questions, variables, and un-answerables that I have to get comfortable with. Even though I think I do a good job with the classes I teach (freshman comp), I never know how long I will be teaching. I never know if this semester will be the semester I don't get called back to teach.

Now luckily, here at the end of November, I do know the answer to that question, as I have been asked back to teach at both schools. But, there were several weeks there where I was just sitting with that uncertainty. Not know if there was going to be enough money in my future to pay the bills. That feeling washes over you, it absorbs you, and ends up making you feel insecure about your yourself, your life, and your abilities. This really is the ugly side of adjunct teaching. Sure, it's cheaper for the school to hire adjuncts, without a doubt, but this assembly-line system we've created has reduced many talented teachers to second class citizens. I find myself among them. 

Bitching comes easy for me, so I'll try to limit myself here. I tend to default to the "glass half empty" philosophy, therefore I constantly have to remind myself of the good that exists in the world, too. Gratitude and positive thinking usually get me back on firmer footing. I am happy to have a job. I am happy to get to teach/talk about a subject I love:  Writing. I know not everyone has this luxury, or opportunity. 

In the world that has everything, with people constantly in search of more, more, more (Moah, moah, moah, if you're Billy Idol), gratitude is the hardest position to maintain. This is especially evident at Thanksgiving, when shortly after the turkey is carved many head out to the stores to fill their carts with the more, more, more. These folks have a difficult time being grateful with what they have, and who they are sharing it with. Gratitude is hard for me, too, but I work at it. 

Before Thanksgiving I was stuck in my head, thinking about my own worries and problems to deal with. Some problems real, some imagined. Thankfully (see, gratitude is happening as we speak), I got out of my own head space long enough to enjoy the damn holiday. It was a good time that I shared with my girlfriend and her family (my folks were away in Tennessee).

My girlfriend's grandmother was here, too. Alzheimer's has taken almost all her memory. She didn't recognize anyone, so she had to meet folks she had known for years like it was the first time again. Very sad, indeed. Her memories were now living in those around her. We were remembering for her. Sitting at the table, eating her meal in a strange place with strangers all around, I wondered what she must have been thankful for? Was she thankful that after all was lost and forgotten within herself that she had other around her who loved, cared, and remembered her? 

I can't say for sure, but I would say she was grateful. It is good to be remembered, especially when you don't remember yourself. Again, the brain's ability to think and perceive is something I am thankful for on a daily basis. There is nothing about these processes that is guaranteed and they don't last forever.

The Purpose of "Brick Walls"

 

“The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They’re there to stop the other people.” -Randy Pausch

The above quote is one I read in the late Randy Pausch's book The Last Lecture a few years ago, and it is something that has stuck with me. Especially here recently, this quote has bubbled back to the surface of my consciousness, as I was gearing up for an opportunity that I thought was going to pan out, and then ended up not.

That opportunity was for a full-time position at the college where I teach. I was hoping, even expecting, to get an interview for the position. Anyone who has had the (dis)pleasure of searching for full-time work in academia knows how tough it can be at times. My current place of employment (one of them) has not had an open full-time position in years. So, not getting a chance at an interview feels like a serious blow - a "brick wall" for sure. 

Over the past few days, I have been working my way through the five stages of grieving:  Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Now I am somewhere lodged in a sort of hybrid stage, like angry acceptance, but hey, I am working my way through this brick wall, brick by brick. I know that competition for this position for probably exceptionally keen, as a lot of folks were standing in line for this opportunity. A colleague of mine who applied had a decade, or more, of experience teaching, while I only have a handful of teaching years under my belt. I guess I still have some more due-paying years ahead.

I am trying to stay positive in this process, but it is hard. I can't help but feel that not getting at least an interview is a shortcoming on my end. Some gap, or hole in my personality, or teaching style. Although, I recently had a favorable class visit from the dean, this didn't seem to help my prospects.

I tried for a dream, and that dream fell flat on its face. That doesn't mean that its time to stop dreaming, although that is certainly how things feel now. 

Ultimately, the worst part of these brick walls are the fact that they end up making you doubt yourself so much. Like, okay, maybe the wall is here for a reason? Am I a good enough teacher? Do I do enough for my students? Maybe I am not meant for this field? What's wrong with me?! It's a slippery slope. A very unhelpful slippery slope. 

So far, the competitive field of college teaching is sort of the antithesis of my personality. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the teaching, and I love connecting with students, and sharing my knowledge and experience, but fighting and jockeying for position in the halls of academia sucks. It is one part resume building, and one part "look at me" as its worst. But, this is true of almost any job, really. Still, suffice it to say that academia is especially competitive. I don't always like having to be that competitive.

That may sound like the guiding philosophy of a loser, but I don't feel that way. I feel like I have a lot to offer to the table. At times, I feel like a gifted writer and teacher. I know I have something to share, contribute, and add. This wasn't my shot, but maybe that shot will come. Soon? Soonish?

Singer/songwriter Tom Petty gets at the heart of facing walls and obstacles in life in his song, "Walls," which can be heard below:

Second 8-Week English Classes

The start of my second 8-week English classes has been busy for me to say the least. I am now teaching four sections of English 111 (Think:  English 101) for two different community colleges and in three different locations, serving very different populations. Two are standard courses, with students coming to class regularly, and two are hybrid, where more work is required online.

Each class is at different points in the course, and each school wishes the class to be taught slightly different. So, although I am teaching the same course, they all feel fairly different. Still, I am learning a lot about the craft of teaching, as I scurry around to each place, trying to meet the demands of my students and my superiors. 

Here are a few of my observations:

• One English class meets everyday, so I never have to worry about leaving out something, because I know I can always get to it the next day. 
• One class meets three days a week for two hours at a time. This is a great chunk of time to work with. I try not to lecture for too long, as students can't just sit idly by for two hours. I try to break things up with group activities/discussion. Because this class is two hours long each day, we usually have plenty of time to consider the ideas we are going over through discussion time. 
• My hybrid classes meet for a shorter period each week, so the discussion must continue outside of the classroom, through online components/assignments. Keeping the discussion going online is not easy to do, and students desire to stay in the discussion varies quite a bit from student to student, even on graded material. 
• The struggle over all of these classes is to make sure that roughly the same amount of material is covered, even when the different formats and time allotted makes this difficult. 

It is said that teaching is a craft and a calling. Now that I have a few years experience under my belt, I can see this is especially true. A big part of teaching is coming up with a great plan, gathering good materials to go along with that plan, but also having the sponteneity to change the plan and go with the flow at times. Maybe this is where teaching becomes less like a craft and more like an art? There have been times in class where students get into a discussion or concept I did not plan on them enjoying so much. That is not the time to speed up, and rush to the next thing - to follow the plan. Instead, that is the time to slow down and let the students steer the discussion. I do not know specifically how that fire gets lit, but when it does, I feel good about stoking it, and making it last a bit longer. 

Success is fickle and nuanced

Image from Wikipedia Creative Commons

As I get older, now almost 30, my views on success become more and more nuanced. As a younger man, I defined it along the shallower terms that most do: fame, fortune, power, etc. But now, I see it is not that simple. The closer I get to 30, the more I find myself questioning the role my 20s played in my development. Psychologist Meg Jay deemed the 20s the "Defining Decade" so I know those years are important, but for me, they are pretty much gone. That is sort of a sinking feeling for me. When I look back, I'm left wondering what did I really accomplish.

There are a few things I'm proud of. Goals I reached that showed my ability to persevere and see what I was made of. Among those was getting an education (Bachelors/Masters) and studying/working abroad (South Korea). Those were the big accomplishments of my 20s and took the majority of my time to achieve. As I near 30, I tend to forget about these accomplishments. They get lost in everything else I am doing, or trying to achieve. However, when I take a second to take stock of them, I have a fleeting moment where I am proud of myself. I am proud that I got an education, even though it was expensive and difficult. I am proud I took the time to travel and work in another country because it changed the way I look at the world, once and forever.

Too often, we get lost in the NEXT BIG THING. Even when you win the Superbowl or World Series, the next thing reporters ask is, "What's next?" That is endemic in our success-driven, consumer-based culture. We have to keep moving, doing, buying. I have to stop myself from falling into this same train of thought. I am old enough, perhaps wise enough, to know that the luxury car, big house, or whatever widget is probably not the key to my happiness or a hallmark of my success as an individual in society. And yet, it is difficult to break out of measuring my life along those lines.

At this juncture, I am working part-time as an adjunct instructor for a local community college. I enjoy the work and find it fulfilling most day. That is what keeps me going. I don't make a lot of money doing this, but I do believe it is important work. Still, paltry paychecks, dwindling balances, and bills can sometimes take the wind out of my sails. I sometimes feel I should be DOING MORE, WORKING HARDER, and making MORE MONEY. Why? To have more money? To buy more things? Is this success? Does this define me?

When I tell my friends and family about working as an adjunct, they all tend to see it as a pitstop onto a more lucrative career. They tend to put their value on money, and what it can buy. But for me, there is a value in teaching. When the lightbulbs are coming on, and students are engaged, it is really fun. I don't know that you can put a price tag on that, as cliche as it may sound. Still, as friends and relatives measure success in this way, it makes me feel I should do the same. I end up questioning myself, and my goals. Like, Hey, maybe they are right. I should do something else. I do need to make more money. Maybe I am not on the path to success after all? 

Part of the need and craving for success is that people want to be noticed, recognized, and valued. We all have a little need for the "Look at me!" from our past childhood. Everyone is searching for this to some degree. And, getting others to notice is becoming a more and more shallow goal is today's world where everyone is more self-centered and self-absorbed. At any given moment, our attention is only going to fall on any one thing for a second or two, and then its on to the NEXT thing. The reporters keep asking, "What's next?" 

So, is there a silver bullet for all this malaise, ennui associated with the almost-30 blues? Probably not. Or, at least I haven't found it yet. But the one thing I have found is that in American society today we tend to define each other along classist lines. We define each other in objects, things, money, occupations. We don't try to understand each other through what we think, believe in, or value. Because of this, people often walk away from each other at dinner parties with very shallow views.

We are each grouping one another into an appropriate cubby and class. As such, I'm not very interesting at dinner parties. Yes, I'm a teacher. Yes, I'm poor x ad nauseam.  Now put me into my cubby thanks! Also, what I've learned is that success is not defined by what you can buy, or the recognition you receive from what you do. I try to fight the urge for the "Look at me!" which everyone craves these days. After all, as General Patton once said, "All glory is fleeting." 

Spring semester rolls by

This has been an interesting year so far. I have been lucky to continue gaining some teaching experience at the local community college where I work. Last year, in the fall, I got my first shot at teaching English 111 (basically English 101). This was my first true teaching experience at the college level, although I had done some assistant teaching before. At any rate, my fall teaching debut was a success, and I was asked to teach some more in the spring, which I happily accepted.

For the first 8 weeks of this spring, I was teaching a developmental reading/writing class. Now, in the last 8 weeks, I am teaching English 111, again. The first 8 weeks went well, but only about half the students who entered my class passed. This is not so much a reflection of my teaching, as much as it is the unfortunate batting average of developmental classes. Students in developmental classes are typically starting college for the first time and many are simply not ready for the rigors of college coursework. As such, a handful drop off the map over the course of the short, 8 week semester.

I will be teaching developmental reading/writing in the summer (two courses of DRE 097) and I hope to improve on my average. One thing I am trying to do in my teaching as of late is try to pinpoint the moment when students begin having trouble, and try to pull them aside for a heart-to-heart. One such case this semester was a student that had a rocky start to the semester. She had been in and out of court (reasons unknown), missed some classes/assignments, and found herself with a grade of 45 to start the semester.

I pulled her aside and gave her a chance to tell me what was going on. Then, we came up with a plan to get her back on track. Normally, I don't accept late work, and most sob stories (I've heard my share) have little to no effect on me. But, in her case, she seemed genuine in wanting to get back on track. I put the ball in her court. She had a will, and came up with the way. She turned in a few missed assignments (with points counted off for lateness) and now she is passing with a 70. Not exactly a grade to put on the fridge, but it is hopeful for her.

Without stepping in and asking what the problem was, I believe she would have sat in the back of the class, slowing giving up, and waiting to fail. Students don't always want to step up to ask for help, or understanding. At least in this case, I felt that she deserved some understanding. That was up to my discretion as a teacher. Now, only time will tell if she will pass my course, but she knows that it's in her hands. It's up to her.

For the most part, this semester has rolled by pretty smoothly. Just a few short weeks until the semester is over, and I'll get a couple of weeks' reprieve before summer session starts. I'm looking forward to getting that break. I enjoy the new challenges that teaching brings everyday, but these short breaks are a great time to recharge my mental energies. As of right now, I have nothing special planned, but I am working on it.

Home repairs, teaching, and more!

I must apologize for not posting on here more often (especially now that I know I have at least one reader, hah!). The second week of March, I was on a one-week spring break from the community college where I work. For the most part, my break was restorative, rejuvenating. But my week of relaxation faded into some hellish bathroom repairs on my girlfriend's grandfather's nearly 100-year old house, where we live now.

What we thought would be a simple toilet installation at the start of the week, eventually brought me from the floor joists and bowels of the house, repairs to the subfloor, and all the way back up to the new vinyl floor we put down. In the process, the learned I am not much of a handy man, so over the course of the week, I learned how to use like every power tool. Ever. The repairs would not have even been possible without the gracious support of my neighbor and friend, Pat, and my housemate's dad, both of who worked tirelessly to help me.

All the while, I was starting to teach my second 8-week English 101 course. I had good materials ready to go, I was more than ready to get back to teaching, but for most of the week, I just felt like I was hanging on, and trying to survive the week. At the same time, my cc-sponsored online class on how to teach online is winding down (just a couple of weeks to go), and I had homework in there during the week. That is why I just tied a knot at the end of my rope and just held on. It wasn't easy to be working on home repairs until midnight one day, and then be back up at 7:30 a.m. the next morning to get to work to do some planning and finally teach my class.

I'm not making excuses, but needless to say, all of the aforementioned left me feeling drained creatively, not to mention physically. Ergo, no blog posts.

My stint in carpentry/plumbing this past week further instilled my deep respect for anyone that does manual labor on a daily basis. You guys/gals are fighting the good fight. You are the doers and makers. Most days, I am lucky to get by on simply using my brain to make my living. My brain is still my strongest muscle, so teaching/learning suits me. I know this is NOT mining work, construction, etc. I know more about the Mines of Moria, than I do about any actual mines (Tolkien reference)!

I'll hope for now that my home repairs will give me a rest for awhile, so I can get back to following my creative passions and pursuits, which includes posting more here.