Reflections on the Challenge, The Sequel

Accepting the 9x9x25 challenge for a second year was interesting. It was easier; it was harder; it revealed the same personal weaknesses; it highlighted some growing strengths.

I found it easier to sit down to the computer to write. I felt much more confident in having a voice and having something worthwhile to share. I still faced the looming deadlines and found myself posting on Sunday mornings. Even though it was easier to start typing, I still needed plenty of time to mull, review, edit, revise, mull, sweat, polish. The germ of an idea might come the prior week, but my inspiration took a lot of molding and shaping. I kept scraps of paper in my car, on my desk, and on the bedside nightstand to record any shimmer of an ephemeral idea. (I always appear to be far more profound to myself at 3:00 in the morning. Be thankful that many of those little scraps found their way into the nearest garbage can!)

Even though the ideas did eventually take root in my brain, I found that some of my driving passions carried over from last year. I caught myself repeating themes about students and reading. At times, I struggled to come up with a new topic that had nothing to do with reading or writing. Hence, I attacked dual enrollment one week and fear of my own teaching boredom another. The venture into voicing my views on dual enrollment proved rewarding because I could take the time to ponder my position on an ongoing issue we face in higher ed. It wasn't until I started to type that I could flesh out my concerns and add meat to my arguments.

As was true last year, there is no good time for writing during the semester for me.  I am thankful for the challenge, for the deadlines, and for the rewards (Kudos, Todd, for all the goodies!). And I appreciated the break from the routine post one week to spend time responding to others' posts. Even so, I really did try to read everyone's posts every week, and it was strange to think that I didn't know if anyone was reading my posts. I especially enjoyed examining how many of us repeaters grew in our writing abilities and skills. Enforced practice created greater fluency for us all.

In the crunch for time this year, I had to focus more on writing and polishing the post than on finding sources for cool links and images. So, yeah, in desperation I resorted to copy-and-pasting stock images--how dull! That was disappointing for me; so much for being flashy and innovative.

Ah well, when in doubt, just "git 'er done!" and smile for the camera with thumbs up.

Overcoming Boredom with Teaching

During my junior year in college, I took a 300-level Shakespeare class. I was really anticipating this class--finally in the upper echelon and in the smaller, more intimate classes. It wasn't long before I caught on to just how close to retirement my professor was.  Here was a man who truly had job security in tenure alone. Every class we students would arrive early, open our Norton Anthology of Shakespeare, get out our spiral notebooks and pens, and settle ourselves into those hard wooden desks for the torture of the next 90 minutes. The professor (I can't even remember his name), clad in his disheveled grey suit, would arrive right on time with his trusty brown briefcase. He never bothered to take attendance because he knew we had to be there. With the briefcase plopped down on the desk, he would pull out his hefty 3" 3-ring binder--you know the old kind with the blue cloth covering. Next he would pull out his wooden ruler and mechanical pencil. Carrying both to the podium, he would open the notebook to the page with his check mark from the previous class. Placing the ruler on the typed page under the correct line, he would proceed to read his notes for the rest of class, moving his ruler down the page and flipping to the next when appropriate. Needless to say, we students fell into our routine of trying to capture every word in our own notebooks in hopes of gleaning some incredible insight for the midterm. Every once in a while, as if on cue, he would even laugh at one of his own typed jokes, just to break up the monotony. For that class, our grade hinged on the midterm, the final, and a research paper. Shakespeare at its finest!

I am so glad we have moved past those prior definitions of education as filling the empty buckets in students' heads with jewels of great knowledge. It must have been easy class preparation for those professors who had to research or publish in order to maintain tenure, but students certainly did not benefit.

When I taught my first online course, I was highly alert to the tendency for online learning to take on the same characteristics for students--read a chapter and regurgitate the information on a quiz or exam. I wanted as much as possible to design a course that would be  engaging and would create a similar sense of community as found in my face-to-face classes. Even so, I must confess though that after teaching the same class year after year I felt as though my teaching lost its luster.  This is not what the students experienced, having never taken the class before, but I am ever alert to my own boredom.

In other words, I get bored with myself and with my own classroom routines. Now I know my lesson plans are new to my students every semester; nevertheless, I don't want to sabotage my own effectiveness by getting into a set routine. This is one of the reasons I appreciate the opportunity to attend conferences through professional growth. Not only do I get re-energized, I also gather ideas for new classroom activities and more interesting assignments for my students. Having just returned from the annual Conference for College Reading and Learning Association a week ago, I am already envisioning how I will utilize new-found ideas within the remainder of this semester and as part of my classes for spring.

This is also why I appreciate our own Winter and Summer Institutes. I enjoy hearing from fellow faculty about what they are doing in their classes and "borrowing" their ideas. I also like having the opportunity to discuss our common student and/or technology issues. We all need to have that change of pace from our routines and busyness.

My own boredom is also one of the reasons I avoid using textbooks in my courses because I don't want to fall into the rut of skill and drill in my reading classes. I also avoid using the same books every semester by switching up my readers, novels, biographies, etc. Although this is more work for me, it gives me a fresh look at each class each semester. I know myself well enough to know I need to keep changing things to maintain my enthusiasm.

What I am re-evaluating now is my overuse of small group discussions. I am not giving up on them; I just want to use them more effectively to get the most out of the time and to provide the best learning experience for my students.  A work in progress to be continued next semester....

Even though I keep an electronic file of all my previous lesson plans, I hate going back to them unless there is some nugget of a great activity that I want to remember to utilize. When I start copying and pasting the same old stuff into the new semester, I lose the luster of working with a new class and a new challenge. I want always to enjoy teaching and interacting with my students in the present.

I guess as I slide towards retirement, I could let the boredom take over to make my life a little easier. I certainly wouldn't have to put in as many hours toward preparation and giving good feedback on assignments. In good conscience, I just can't do that to my students, or to me.  As instructors, we get to create our own classroom experience; we might as well make it the best experience possible for everyone, including ourselves.

Honor after Heartbreak, Soccer Style

I am going to break from our educational thread in this post. My blog has to do with the kind of education that does not necessarily take place within the walls of an institution. I am talking about the education that builds character. Our soccer team just experienced a surprisingly harsh loss in the Regionals that stopped its progress toward Nationals. Every player faced the defeat in a different way. I want to acknowledge one response in particular.

The Yavapai soccer team came on the home turf last Thursday night full of the confidence expected from the nationally ranked #1 team. The Phoenix team entered the stadium knowing this was their last shot at gaining a place in the Regional standings and a shot at the National Finals to be held here this month. The battle was on from the first kick with the two opposing teams going after the ball with the same goal, the National Finals. Both teams scrambled with Yavapai out-shooting the Bears, but the Bears gained the first goal early in the first half. Our team rallied and fought hard to get the tying goal at the end of the second half. Sudden Death--just one goal away from the win for either team. Both teams amassed down at the Yavapai goal, and in the chaos one shot found its mark. Phoenix won with a final score of  2-1.

What a heart-wrenching loss for us! In that split second of recognizing what had happened, some of our players fanned out on the field; some headed back to our bench. One player was kneeling with his head on the ground; another was laid out flat on the turf. Others were standing alone contemplating the significance of this loss. Meanwhile the Phoenix team ran together, creating a screaming mob of victors that roiled closer and closer to the bleachers filled with the Yavapai fans standing shocked that we had come so close to winning, as we always have, but lost. None of us could process the final moments.

As I stood among those muted fans, an unusual movement caught my eye. One of our players was heading toward the winning team. Into the mass of black- and yellow-clad victorious players jumping up and down, moved one seemingly out of place in his whites--Scott Nixon, one of our young men from Belfast, Northern Ireland. Slowly and quietly, he moved from player to player giving each one a congratulatory handshake and a hug. No words needed to be exchanged. And as he moved among them, he clapped for their hard-won victory. In the midst of his own team's devastating loss, he took the time to acknowledge the winners.

We don't teach that kind of sportsmanship in our classes at the college. Scott obviously came to us already knowing how to handle defeat. He showed respect and honor to this opposing team and its players. I would love to know who taught him this valuable trait. His parents? His prior coaches? All I can say is I am greatly impressed by this humble acknowledgement of the victors in the face of his own lost opportunity to play in the Finals. Scott epitomizes the kind of character every good athlete should exhibit.

As  one of Yavapai College's soccer fans, I couldn't have been more proud of him in that moment.