In brief: this article brings up Ratemyprofessor.com and Rateyourstudents.blogspot.com, which is essentially a backlash blog.
I've hated the idea of Ratemyprofessor since I heard about it when I was teaching. I understand its use, but I also understands its abuse. Luckily, I've never made the site, but some of my former colleagues have. Surfing through those reviews, I found them to be relatively accurate--even a few that were insightful.
I have stumbled upon one review of my teaching elsewhere, and found it flattering. Chris, an old student of mine, was in another English class in which he had to write and post a wiki. That wiki has since been taken down, but he had this to say to elucidate his attitude towards his current class by referencing mine (parenthetical initials/names are my replacements, for minor identity protection purposes):
I consider the 'u' arrangement to be a case of coping with inadequacy. The type of class that we seem to be attempting towards is a discussion, rather than lecture-based learning environment. In the past I've had some amazing classes, and this class certainly has the potential to be one of them. Those amazing classes were both conducted in the discussion style, and always in-the-round (thanks to copious and daily rearrangement of available seating, similar to what we deal with now. In particular they were engl 202b (go figure, I was dreading taking it) and cmlit 401, and actually rlst 83 now that I think way back. The instructors maintained a presence and directed the functioning of the classroom, but were otherwise on the same level and same position as the rest of us. In fact in cmlit, (S. U.) made a point of changing where he sat every day. In engl (A.) only gave input or prompted us when necessary, or she had something particularly worth mentioning. Otherwise the students enlightened and inspired each other very nicely without any help. It's amazing what you can learn from MANY peers, questioning, illuminating, and conversing WITH you, rather than someONE lecturing AT you. My point (or something like it): when I come to our class, I see a roomful of very bright, contemplative, and engaging people, who all have something worth sharing (whether or not they share it). Our particular classroom will unfortunately not allow for such versatility, but in my personal experience, the learning CIRCLE can be infinitely beneficial to all participants, and conducive to the atmosphere I'm trying to describe. When everyone can look into each other's eyes, without strain or even intent, there is a sort of forced involvement that no other seating possibility can duplicate. We feel obliged to participate. Aside from the three mentioned above, I've had other discussion courses conducted in the not-so-round. They were fine, but nothing close to their potential. The 'u' could be worse, however we are still, by precisely 2 right angles, only coping with inadequacy...
While I'm flattered by what he had to say about me, the review of the class he was currently in made me somewhat uncomfortable. Inadequacy? Why didn't he clarify, to explain his position?
This mini-review wasn't really my original point, though. My point was that faculty and instructors are generally worked hard, with far too many sections for the amount of other work they have to do (or just far too many sections in the first place). It's difficult to see yourself rated this way, name in full view, and commentary attached, when you probably believe that you did the best job that you possibly could have. While Ratemyprofessor.com may have encouraged at least one instructor to change their teaching style, my suspicion is that it discouraged far more of them. And a disheartened and uninspired instructor is far worse than one that is earnest, if misguided.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Monday, January 16, 2006
how to make a blog post, part 1
There's a rather complicated set of circumstances that has to occur before one of these posts gets made. I have to have:
1. A subject, and a reason to post about that subject.
2. Composing time, mental.
3. Composing time, physical (actually typing it up).
4. A lack of other, more pressing matters.
Subject's easy enough. Even mental composing time's not too much of a problem. I compose in my head constantly, whether in the form of blog posts or otherwise. But there's an amazing percentage of subjects--even mentally composed pieces--that never make it to any solid form. Usually that's due to number four. I have a ton of obligations, most of which I went into voluntarily, and sometimes they become a bit much.
And I know many of the voluntary obligations could be put aside momentarily, but usually not without disappointing someone. And I hate disappointing people.
So I go short on some of them, some of the time. Or I short my friends. But the pinch occurs somewhere. And I don't like that either. But I also don't want to let go of any of what I'm involved in.
I think I thrive when I'm busy. At least, I can say that I've been pretty happy for awhile now, and I've been pretty insanely busy for most of that time. So it basically comes down to being a balance between doing stuff and not going nuts trying to accomplish all of the stuff I'm committed to. Finding a way to define and/or manage that is rough, though. But so is letting people down. But there's got to be a way. And there is, I suppose, since I don't think I'm doing too badly thus far.
1. A subject, and a reason to post about that subject.
2. Composing time, mental.
3. Composing time, physical (actually typing it up).
4. A lack of other, more pressing matters.
Subject's easy enough. Even mental composing time's not too much of a problem. I compose in my head constantly, whether in the form of blog posts or otherwise. But there's an amazing percentage of subjects--even mentally composed pieces--that never make it to any solid form. Usually that's due to number four. I have a ton of obligations, most of which I went into voluntarily, and sometimes they become a bit much.
And I know many of the voluntary obligations could be put aside momentarily, but usually not without disappointing someone. And I hate disappointing people.
So I go short on some of them, some of the time. Or I short my friends. But the pinch occurs somewhere. And I don't like that either. But I also don't want to let go of any of what I'm involved in.
I think I thrive when I'm busy. At least, I can say that I've been pretty happy for awhile now, and I've been pretty insanely busy for most of that time. So it basically comes down to being a balance between doing stuff and not going nuts trying to accomplish all of the stuff I'm committed to. Finding a way to define and/or manage that is rough, though. But so is letting people down. But there's got to be a way. And there is, I suppose, since I don't think I'm doing too badly thus far.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
holiday review
I have Dresden Dolls' "Coin-Operated Boy" stuck in my head this morning. Which is really not such a bad thing. It's been warm around here for what seems like ages--steady 40s, though it's supposed to reach 58 on Friday. Ridiculous for mid-January, but again, I'm not complaining.
T. and I walked in this morning beneath a murder of crows, though T. was "almost afraid to walk under them, with my luck." A woman from another office who we walked in with mentioned that it was like being on an old movie set, and she and I said The Birds in unison. Strange. They've flown on, though--otherwise I'd be hearing them outside my window even now.
Since I last posted, I went on a bit of a whirlwind holiday tour to Wisconsin and Dad’s house. A quiet Christmas Eve with traditional Danish fliskesteg (coincidentally, before I arrived, I was just thinking about how we used to have that each Christmas Eve, before my aunt passed away--it was nice to return to at least one tradition like that) dinner in front of White Christmas, which B. wanted to finish watching. Gifts after dinner (some received either then or later quite lovely ones--thank you both), semi-rushed because B. wanted to go to Christmas Eve services. Dad declined since he’d fallen on some ice the day before, and was getting twinges from it still that made him gasp if he moved the wrong way. He said he didn’t want to sound like he had Tourette’s during a prayer. Which was just fine with me, frankly. I don't know if it was the time change or what--I mean, one hour should not be a big deal--but I was tired pretty early each evening there.
Then a manic Christmas day with B’s family. Six of the seven siblings and all their respective partners and children, plus one extended family member (B’s sister’s partner’s niece) and the resident dog all hung out in the basement to open presents and then moved to the living room, set with an extremely long table, for Christmas dinner, which our hosts had chosen to be an Italian-style dinner. A proper antipasto course with beautiful cheeses, followed by a minestrone soup, then the main course of lasagne and spudini, followed by dessert of tiramisu, cookies, hazelnut-cream centered chocolates, and the Swedish desserts that I love that my Dad picked up for us. Somehow I managed to out-food E. (one of our hosts) by appreciating the garlic cloves (by themselves) that came in the middle of the olives, and the green rum-filled desserts that Dad brought. Evidently the rum and the garlic were a bit much for him (though they weren’t in combination, of course).
The next day started with a tour of the area with my Dad, who showed me everything that had changed in town while I’d been gone—they’re doing some impressive conservancy work, as well as new development, of course. One of the springs that runs into the lake has gotten weeded of all its invasive species and more native species introduced—a ridiculous number in the thousands of different varieties that Dad had told me but I’ve since forgotten. I also managed to finagle a tour of the waste treatment plant there--something I've been mildly curious about, strangely enough. Curiosity now (mostly) satisfied.
This blog came up in conversation more than once, which I found a rather strange experience--as is this sort of meta-blogging. That is, talking about the blog on the blog. But B. and Dad emphasized that they read me here, which I appreciate, and that they read the comments--no pressure, other J. Though B. does have one of your comments printed out and in her purse. Really, no pressure to be articulate there. Just teasing, of course.
Speaking of writing about the blog on the blog, I changed some links on the side here, adding Google Maps, which is extra-useful--try looking up your own area there, then zoom in some and click "satellite" on the right. The satellite might not give you too much detail, but it's kind of neat anyway. I'm still amused at how much golf courses show up from space. And I added Salon, where I pick up news occasionally (but mostly opinion). As for the "other blogs" section: Bérubé is a professor in our English department here, and I find him pretty interesting. Marty and Will are old college friends, added mostly because I didn't think they'd mind being linked (and it makes it easier for me to find them, too). If anybody else reading this wants a link, just say the word--and then I'll think about it.
Kidding.
Also debating putting an email listserv on this thing--basically, you'd get an email from me letting you know when I put something up here. A couple other gals I've known forever online do or used to do this, and it does seem logical. It also seems the nice thing to do since I post so intermittently. I'll keep you posted on that tip.
T. and I walked in this morning beneath a murder of crows, though T. was "almost afraid to walk under them, with my luck." A woman from another office who we walked in with mentioned that it was like being on an old movie set, and she and I said The Birds in unison. Strange. They've flown on, though--otherwise I'd be hearing them outside my window even now.
Since I last posted, I went on a bit of a whirlwind holiday tour to Wisconsin and Dad’s house. A quiet Christmas Eve with traditional Danish fliskesteg (coincidentally, before I arrived, I was just thinking about how we used to have that each Christmas Eve, before my aunt passed away--it was nice to return to at least one tradition like that) dinner in front of White Christmas, which B. wanted to finish watching. Gifts after dinner (some received either then or later quite lovely ones--thank you both), semi-rushed because B. wanted to go to Christmas Eve services. Dad declined since he’d fallen on some ice the day before, and was getting twinges from it still that made him gasp if he moved the wrong way. He said he didn’t want to sound like he had Tourette’s during a prayer. Which was just fine with me, frankly. I don't know if it was the time change or what--I mean, one hour should not be a big deal--but I was tired pretty early each evening there.
Then a manic Christmas day with B’s family. Six of the seven siblings and all their respective partners and children, plus one extended family member (B’s sister’s partner’s niece) and the resident dog all hung out in the basement to open presents and then moved to the living room, set with an extremely long table, for Christmas dinner, which our hosts had chosen to be an Italian-style dinner. A proper antipasto course with beautiful cheeses, followed by a minestrone soup, then the main course of lasagne and spudini, followed by dessert of tiramisu, cookies, hazelnut-cream centered chocolates, and the Swedish desserts that I love that my Dad picked up for us. Somehow I managed to out-food E. (one of our hosts) by appreciating the garlic cloves (by themselves) that came in the middle of the olives, and the green rum-filled desserts that Dad brought. Evidently the rum and the garlic were a bit much for him (though they weren’t in combination, of course).
The next day started with a tour of the area with my Dad, who showed me everything that had changed in town while I’d been gone—they’re doing some impressive conservancy work, as well as new development, of course. One of the springs that runs into the lake has gotten weeded of all its invasive species and more native species introduced—a ridiculous number in the thousands of different varieties that Dad had told me but I’ve since forgotten. I also managed to finagle a tour of the waste treatment plant there--something I've been mildly curious about, strangely enough. Curiosity now (mostly) satisfied.
This blog came up in conversation more than once, which I found a rather strange experience--as is this sort of meta-blogging. That is, talking about the blog on the blog. But B. and Dad emphasized that they read me here, which I appreciate, and that they read the comments--no pressure, other J. Though B. does have one of your comments printed out and in her purse. Really, no pressure to be articulate there. Just teasing, of course.
Speaking of writing about the blog on the blog, I changed some links on the side here, adding Google Maps, which is extra-useful--try looking up your own area there, then zoom in some and click "satellite" on the right. The satellite might not give you too much detail, but it's kind of neat anyway. I'm still amused at how much golf courses show up from space. And I added Salon, where I pick up news occasionally (but mostly opinion). As for the "other blogs" section: Bérubé is a professor in our English department here, and I find him pretty interesting. Marty and Will are old college friends, added mostly because I didn't think they'd mind being linked (and it makes it easier for me to find them, too). If anybody else reading this wants a link, just say the word--and then I'll think about it.
Kidding.
Also debating putting an email listserv on this thing--basically, you'd get an email from me letting you know when I put something up here. A couple other gals I've known forever online do or used to do this, and it does seem logical. It also seems the nice thing to do since I post so intermittently. I'll keep you posted on that tip.
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