Lately I've been substitute teaching - a lot. I started out with the K-6 kids, but lately I've been taking jobs in the 9-12 grades. My assignments have all been at charter schools, so I have yet to experience life in a Detroit area public school. I've subbed for a wide range of students in humanities classes (mainly English), and have noticed one common thread in all classrooms -- kids know when they are receiving substandard teaching.
The first high school I subbed at was predominantly Hispanic/Latino. There weren't enough books for each of the students to be able to take a copy home, so they were forced to read the assignments - out loud - in class, and then do the work. I subbed in an African-American History class, an 11th grade English class, and a Weight Training class (for 11 & 12 grade girls).
The students were somewhat shy, but all of them tried to engage in the activities that their regular teacher had left for them. I was able to get students to discuss the process of "dehumanization" (they were studying the concept and practice of racial superiority in the history class) and the HUAC and the hunt for communists during the 1950s and how it related to the Salem witch trials (in the English class). It was obvious that the regular teacher was organized and focused, and that the teachers she worked with were also following organized plans for the students.
These teachers had high standards, but also took into account the actual day-to-day needs of their students. Throughout the day I heard teachers talking to students about college and career plans. The students themselves were excited about being part of the Homecoming planning committee or the cheerleading squad or taking the senior class trip in the spring. Their school building was clean and well-cared for, and the adults at the school talked to the kids like they mattered. There were signs all over the school that encouraged kids to graduate, to attend college, to know their history, and to be proud of who they are.
The second high school I went to was predominantly African-American. I subbed for a Geography teacher (who was actually in the classroom for the first period) who had great intentions, but was an inconsistent role model for the kids. The teacher wanted to be inspiring and motivational, but everything about his classroom and his own behavior spoke volumes about his inability to be consistent. He yelled at the kids for putting their feet on chairs, and proceeded to sit on a desk and rest his feet on a chair. His desk looked like a bomb had gone off on it, and he had trouble finding the lesson plan for the day, but he yelled at a kid who didn't have the top button of his shirt buttoned (but failed to notice that kid didn't have a top button on the shirt).
Only one class period was interested in actually learning something about geography, the rest of the kids were either disconnected, disengaged, or downright rude. I have to admit that the 4th period group finally got to me -- they were so rude and disrespectful that I finally sat behind the desk and ignored them because I simply couldn not discipline them in a way that made sense.
As I left this school, I compared it to the previous week's school and noticed that this building was older and less interesting than the other school. It looked like an office building, and it sat on the edge of one of the busiest streets in the city. There was no outside area for kids to hang out or play, and the inside was extremely institutional -- dark stairways, lots of securtity guards, and all bathrooms except for the ones just outside of the main office were locked tight. Teachers stood in the hallways during the passing periods and yelled at kids to get to class.
On the walls, there were lists of rules for everything from behavior to dress code, but I didn't see any teachers attempting to enforce rules such as "Girls may wear one pair of earrings, if they are hoop earrings they may be no more than 2" in diameter." The school's mission statement was hanging on the wall just inside the entry way, but nowhere else in the school did I see signs of encouragement or attempts to instill pride or self-worth. I certainly would have wanted to be a student at this school.
This week I subbed at a third high school that served a predominantly Muslim community. The classes there were divided by male and female, and most of the girls wore headscarves and long black dresses (though I found out later that the vast majority were wearing the most fashionable jeans and t-shirts underneath). The teacher was a woman who had clear cut standards and rules for her classroom, though the rules were limited to the most basic principles such as respect and timeliness.
I subbed in 9th and 10th grade English classes, and was both delighted and frustrated to learn that 14 and 15-year-old girls are the same no matter what they are wearing or what their cultural or religious backgrounds may happen to be. The girls in these English classes were lively and delightful and a complete HANDFUL. One class period, I had to bribe the girls to finish their work by promising them that they could listen to their homemade CDs once the work was finished and handed in (the CDs were full of rap, and the latest R&B - similar to the music that the girls at the Hispanic high school were listening to).
Then came 7th period American Literature - and six boys. I was worried that I'd have to fight with them to get the poetry assignment done, but they rose to the occassion and finished the assignement quickly. So I handed out the second assignment (the regular teacher was well prepared!) and they began working and talking to one another. To make a 50 minute period short, we ended up having one of the most engaging conversations I've ever had with a class of students. We talked about sexuality, careers, and college, and I promised to send them each a packet of information from the college where I teach part-time. I'm not sure that they belived that I'd follow through on my promise, but I did - that very same evening.
This school was obviously a newer school. There were lots of windows, air and light coming into the classrooms, and the school was immaculately clean - even at the end of the school day. The security people were watchful, but kind, and the teachers seemed to have lots of activities for the students to do and learn.
I know that it's kind of like comparing apples, oranges, and mangos, but these three schools have convinced me that the reason students succeed or fail is not simply due to the quality of the teachers, the materials, or the buildings. Students succed or fail based on the interest that adults take in their lives. Students mirror the values of those who model behavior for them -- be it one day or one year. It's made me much more congnizant of my own behavior in the classroom (not that it was ever bad), and of how much one day of subbing can either add to or detract from the overall goals of the teachers who work with these kids on a daily basis.
What I really love about substitute teaching is that it continuously requires me to reevaluate my assumptions and beliefs, and in the process, it makes me want to be a better teacher - period. And, I come away from each substituting job a little wiser and a little more uplifted -- and hoping that maybe the students I've taught, have too.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
Home from the "Hell-i-days"
Tolstoy sure hit the nail on the head when he wrote "...every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." And at no time is the unhappy family more unhappy than during the holidays. Tis the season to...want to strangle one another.
I have just finished detoxing from a trip "home" for the Christmas holiday. I spent the week (foolish me) washing more dishes than I've ever washed in my own home just to avoid having to interact with my dysfunctional family. I gobbled anti-anxiety medication in a way that made even my own shrink nervous about what was going on, and I cried on the phone to my partner (at 4:30 am) that I wanted to come home NOW - the second day of the trip. All in all, it was exactly what I envision when I think (in my recovering Catholic way) that there might actually be a hell.
What makes my family so miserable? Illness, regrets, guilt, a lack of respect for one another (born out of grudges between my parents that probably have their roots in things that happened before I was born - you don't get that pissed off in a decade or two), and a complete inability to communicate. This is nothing new.
What makes me so sad is that I have great memories of Christmas' past - both as a child and an adult - and this year's celebration didn't even come close to being merry or even cheerful. My mom and I spent every day going to movies (albeit, a fun way to pass time and catch up on the latest films) in large part to avoid my father's anger and frustration over his ill health. When I was around, there was nothing to talk about because the television runs 24/7 and you can't get a word in edgewise. My dad spent most of the time I was home sitting in his chair trying to deal with the pain in his legs (he is diabetic and doesn't take care of his health, which means open wounds and constant pain) while my mother hid in her sewing room making quilts. They try to avoid one another as much as possible.
My dad feels guilty about his poor health, but does nothing to try and change the behaviors that led to the problem. My mother blames my dad for all the misery she feels - if he would just loose weight, get his diet under control, use his insulin properly, exercise, not spend so much money, etc., THEN she would be happy. My dad thinks that if everyone just left him alone to do as he pleases, THEN he'd be happy. It's a vicious cycle, and one that I am loathe to witness and definitely do not want to repeat.
The good side of this is that I DON'T live this way. My partner and I are honest and upfront (even when it stings) and don't play the "passive/aggressive" game with one another. However, it literally took 4 days and 1 shrink visit to detox from this past visit - I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon. The recovering Catholic in me feels horribly guilty about this, but the person who wants to live a quite, mindful life has managed to make peace with it.
I have just finished detoxing from a trip "home" for the Christmas holiday. I spent the week (foolish me) washing more dishes than I've ever washed in my own home just to avoid having to interact with my dysfunctional family. I gobbled anti-anxiety medication in a way that made even my own shrink nervous about what was going on, and I cried on the phone to my partner (at 4:30 am) that I wanted to come home NOW - the second day of the trip. All in all, it was exactly what I envision when I think (in my recovering Catholic way) that there might actually be a hell.
What makes my family so miserable? Illness, regrets, guilt, a lack of respect for one another (born out of grudges between my parents that probably have their roots in things that happened before I was born - you don't get that pissed off in a decade or two), and a complete inability to communicate. This is nothing new.
What makes me so sad is that I have great memories of Christmas' past - both as a child and an adult - and this year's celebration didn't even come close to being merry or even cheerful. My mom and I spent every day going to movies (albeit, a fun way to pass time and catch up on the latest films) in large part to avoid my father's anger and frustration over his ill health. When I was around, there was nothing to talk about because the television runs 24/7 and you can't get a word in edgewise. My dad spent most of the time I was home sitting in his chair trying to deal with the pain in his legs (he is diabetic and doesn't take care of his health, which means open wounds and constant pain) while my mother hid in her sewing room making quilts. They try to avoid one another as much as possible.
My dad feels guilty about his poor health, but does nothing to try and change the behaviors that led to the problem. My mother blames my dad for all the misery she feels - if he would just loose weight, get his diet under control, use his insulin properly, exercise, not spend so much money, etc., THEN she would be happy. My dad thinks that if everyone just left him alone to do as he pleases, THEN he'd be happy. It's a vicious cycle, and one that I am loathe to witness and definitely do not want to repeat.
The good side of this is that I DON'T live this way. My partner and I are honest and upfront (even when it stings) and don't play the "passive/aggressive" game with one another. However, it literally took 4 days and 1 shrink visit to detox from this past visit - I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon. The recovering Catholic in me feels horribly guilty about this, but the person who wants to live a quite, mindful life has managed to make peace with it.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Book Tag from Steph at Sweet Water Journal
I've been "tagged" by Steph to do the following:
1. Find the nearest book.
2. Name the book & the author.
3. Turn to page 123.
4. Go to the fifth sentence on the page. (Aside: Fifth full sentence? That's what I'm assuming.) Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
5. Tag three more folks.
I can do everything except tag three more folks (I don't know any other bloggers!)
Here goes...
_The Knowledge Deficit: Closing the Shocking Education Gap for American Children_ by E.D. Hirsch, Jr.
"The states therefore need to agree with one another on a core of specifics. To do this, they will have to follow sounder principles than those that have produced current state standards. Current principles righteously proclaim their own virtue in being vague because they nurture the differences among children, leave freedom for the teacher and the district, and proclaim a commitment to "deeper" aims like critical thinking and understanding."
I haven't actually gotten as far as page 123, but this is a good book if you are interested in learning how and why the public school system is producing students who are able to do little more than take standardized tests. Hirsch (the author of _Cultural Literacy_) argues that a large part of the problem with current mechanisms of American education is that students are unaware of cultural references (critical thinking) and that all of the rote memorization of "reading skills" (whole language, etc) is actually doing more harm than good when it comes to learning the materials. Very interesting book!
1. Find the nearest book.
2. Name the book & the author.
3. Turn to page 123.
4. Go to the fifth sentence on the page. (Aside: Fifth full sentence? That's what I'm assuming.) Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
5. Tag three more folks.
I can do everything except tag three more folks (I don't know any other bloggers!)
Here goes...
_The Knowledge Deficit: Closing the Shocking Education Gap for American Children_ by E.D. Hirsch, Jr.
"The states therefore need to agree with one another on a core of specifics. To do this, they will have to follow sounder principles than those that have produced current state standards. Current principles righteously proclaim their own virtue in being vague because they nurture the differences among children, leave freedom for the teacher and the district, and proclaim a commitment to "deeper" aims like critical thinking and understanding."
I haven't actually gotten as far as page 123, but this is a good book if you are interested in learning how and why the public school system is producing students who are able to do little more than take standardized tests. Hirsch (the author of _Cultural Literacy_) argues that a large part of the problem with current mechanisms of American education is that students are unaware of cultural references (critical thinking) and that all of the rote memorization of "reading skills" (whole language, etc) is actually doing more harm than good when it comes to learning the materials. Very interesting book!
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Being the Change...
I teach first year Composition at an urban community college and am struggling mightily with the challenges that my students face (not just in the classroom, but out of it as well). There are students in my classes who cannot form complete sentences, yet they've managed to get into a first year comp course. This is so incredibly different from the time I spent teaching comp at a Big 10 research university. Some days I'm not even sure that these two schools are on the same planet, let alone the same state.
I am frustrated with the lack of skills on the community college level, but if truth be told, I feel more useful here than I did in the Big 10 school. Some days I feel as if we've made HUGE gains when a student understands a thesis statement or how to write a body paragraph or how to use textual support. Other days, I feel utterly defeated when I look at how far these students have to go.
For the first half of the semester I was frustrated by what I perceived as a "lack of committment" on the part of the students in my comp classes. They didn't show up to class or when they did their work wasn't completed or if it was, it was done in a haphazardly manner. I felt angry at them, angry at me (for not being stricter), angry at the school systems that produced students without skills.
And then I spent a day substitute teaching in an urban elementary school. What a slap in the face. I quickly realized what teachers are up against in the classroom from the very beginning of a student's educational process. I subbed in a first grade classroom (30 six-year-olds for 8 hours). The students had no playground because their school sat on the edge of two major intersections and the building itself took up 1/2 of a block. This meant NO RECESS. No chance for little bodies to burn off some of the energy they accumulate sitting in desks doing their school work. These students received gym class only ONCE per week (and we wonder why obesity is becoming a major factor in young people!).
The vast majority of the day was spent trying to maintain order in the classroom. I managed to maike it through the regular teacher's lesson plans, but it was a major struggle to do so. The behavioral problems in the classroom are phenomenal - and I'm not just talking about regular six-year-old energy - there are kids with *serious* behavioral problems mixed into the classrooms. I left the school that afternoon, wondering how in the world these children manage to learn anything in such a chaotic environment (the teacher's aids assured me that the regular teacher had much better control of the classroom than I did - thank goodness!).
And then I started thinking about my own students. If they started out this way, then what was middle school or high school like for them? I'm going to substitue again, and perhaps I'll get the opportunity to do it in a high school and see what my students have been up against.
In any case, I'm hoping that somehow, in some small way, I'll be able to give my first year Composition students some useful skills that will serve them well as they move on in the community college system and out into the world. I can't change the past, but I can help them construct a new way of looking at the future. I hope.
I am frustrated with the lack of skills on the community college level, but if truth be told, I feel more useful here than I did in the Big 10 school. Some days I feel as if we've made HUGE gains when a student understands a thesis statement or how to write a body paragraph or how to use textual support. Other days, I feel utterly defeated when I look at how far these students have to go.
For the first half of the semester I was frustrated by what I perceived as a "lack of committment" on the part of the students in my comp classes. They didn't show up to class or when they did their work wasn't completed or if it was, it was done in a haphazardly manner. I felt angry at them, angry at me (for not being stricter), angry at the school systems that produced students without skills.
And then I spent a day substitute teaching in an urban elementary school. What a slap in the face. I quickly realized what teachers are up against in the classroom from the very beginning of a student's educational process. I subbed in a first grade classroom (30 six-year-olds for 8 hours). The students had no playground because their school sat on the edge of two major intersections and the building itself took up 1/2 of a block. This meant NO RECESS. No chance for little bodies to burn off some of the energy they accumulate sitting in desks doing their school work. These students received gym class only ONCE per week (and we wonder why obesity is becoming a major factor in young people!).
The vast majority of the day was spent trying to maintain order in the classroom. I managed to maike it through the regular teacher's lesson plans, but it was a major struggle to do so. The behavioral problems in the classroom are phenomenal - and I'm not just talking about regular six-year-old energy - there are kids with *serious* behavioral problems mixed into the classrooms. I left the school that afternoon, wondering how in the world these children manage to learn anything in such a chaotic environment (the teacher's aids assured me that the regular teacher had much better control of the classroom than I did - thank goodness!).
And then I started thinking about my own students. If they started out this way, then what was middle school or high school like for them? I'm going to substitue again, and perhaps I'll get the opportunity to do it in a high school and see what my students have been up against.
In any case, I'm hoping that somehow, in some small way, I'll be able to give my first year Composition students some useful skills that will serve them well as they move on in the community college system and out into the world. I can't change the past, but I can help them construct a new way of looking at the future. I hope.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Moving Toward Something Better
It's been a long time since I posted anything on this blog. I couldn't keep up with what I perceived to be the massive demands of a weekly/monthly (okay, yearly!) blog. I am, however, inspired by a friend who blogs regularly and am back to try again. (You can view Steph's blog at Sweet Water Journal
About a month ago I landed a job as an adjunct instructor at a local community college. So far I am really enjoying the experience. The college is a highly motivated place, and is interested in educating it's faculty (this includes adjunct as well as full time) in some pretty innovative ways. We have a book group, an educational group that is dealing with meta-cognition, and plenty of technical learning courses designed to bring everyone up to speed with the latest technology (on and off campus). All of this is FREE to anyone on the faculty, so I am taking full advantage of everything.
The problem is that I am overwhelmed by the courses I'm teaching, and woefully underpaid for the work I do. This seems to be the lot of adjunct faculty all over the country. I am fortunate that I have a partner who can carry a large part of the load while I spend this semester earning a small small amount of money for the work I do, but this can't go on forever. The problem I face is that I don't know how I'm going to be able to build on this and find MORE adjunct work (I don't know how some of these folks teach at 3 or 4 schools!) - the prep work and the grading are killing me NOW.
On the upside, perhaps some of what I'm learning in the bookgroup, educational and technology classes will translate into something more permanent in the future. And if not, well, I guess we'll just have to scale back some of our wants and needs until I can come up with something that pays better!
About a month ago I landed a job as an adjunct instructor at a local community college. So far I am really enjoying the experience. The college is a highly motivated place, and is interested in educating it's faculty (this includes adjunct as well as full time) in some pretty innovative ways. We have a book group, an educational group that is dealing with meta-cognition, and plenty of technical learning courses designed to bring everyone up to speed with the latest technology (on and off campus). All of this is FREE to anyone on the faculty, so I am taking full advantage of everything.
The problem is that I am overwhelmed by the courses I'm teaching, and woefully underpaid for the work I do. This seems to be the lot of adjunct faculty all over the country. I am fortunate that I have a partner who can carry a large part of the load while I spend this semester earning a small small amount of money for the work I do, but this can't go on forever. The problem I face is that I don't know how I'm going to be able to build on this and find MORE adjunct work (I don't know how some of these folks teach at 3 or 4 schools!) - the prep work and the grading are killing me NOW.
On the upside, perhaps some of what I'm learning in the bookgroup, educational and technology classes will translate into something more permanent in the future. And if not, well, I guess we'll just have to scale back some of our wants and needs until I can come up with something that pays better!
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
My Love/Hate Relationship with Academia
Why are graduate students such a fucked up bunch of people? Personally, I think we're drawn to the academic system (Love me? Please tell me I'm good enough, smart enough, and can write like Butler or Derrida! Validate me, damn it!) because we're a bunch of scared children who want to please our parents, advisors, professors, but also want to rip out the hearts of other graduate students (who are just like us!) because they annoy the shit out of us.
Before I started grad school I heard horror stories of students who would use razor blades to cut out articles from journals or re-shelved library books in places where students would never find them (ostensibly, so that no other students could have access to them). Yeah, right. I'm sure that shit goes on at Ivy League schools, but here at State U we're too busy juggling the supposed "half time" teaching assistantship and the nine credit hours we have to complete every semester while learning the ropes. I had envisioned grad school as this one big classroom where we all learned "stuff" (coming from a metropolitan urban non-residential campus I had no idea what that "stuff" would be) and talked about it. Yeah, right.
For those of you contemplating grad school, let me offer some advice: only pursue this if you are independently wealthy OR you don't give a damn about being deep in debt for the rest of your life (I am not kidding about this one - it's really the only way to survive). I have loved grad school as a process of learning and teaching, but I'll tell you - it's fucked with my head. I'm sure I was pretty screwed up before I got here, but now that I'm on the verge of finishing up and getting out - well, suffice it to say that I am *royally* fucked up now. Thank goodness for better living through cheap university subsidized chemistry - anti-depressants, anti-anxiety medications, anti-ADD medications have all made their way into my medicine cabinet as a means of helping me get through "just one more day."
You know what's really fucked up about grad school? It's that we all BUY it. We buy the crap that tells us we can be the next the next great chemist/biologist/literary theorist. We buy the fact that we should want these stupid crappy tenure track jobs that are becoming fewer and fewer each year (thanks to those of us who glut the market and make adjuncting the wave of the future). We buy the fact that we should value what the univeristy values - working long hours for shitty pay and the ephemeral promise of a sabbatical or a corner office or a graduate seminar. We buy it because they sell it. We buy it because we're told that it's the brass ring. We buy it because we're so fucking deep in debt that we cease to have choices in the matter - or at least we *think* we do.
When I came into grad school I can remember saying "Theory is for those who can't teach" with such conviction. I believed that those folks who spent their lives trying to unravel the mysteries of "performativity" or "authenticity" were so far up their own asses that they couldn't see the forrest for the trees. I spent a large portion of my time prepping for teaching, and was smug about the fact that my students "loved my class." You gotta love those first year idealists.
Now that I'm close to finishing, I'm not so sure I care about the hallowed halls of the ivory tower institutions. In fact, I know I don't give a shit about them. I've watched some of my friends take jobs that they didn't particularly want in locations that they loathed, just to say they had a job. They work for universities whose missions are appaling in their consumerist approach (students are 'clients' and professors are expected to do whatever they can to give the clients their money's worth so that mom and dad won't call up the provost or president and complain that Amanda or Christopher aren't getting along in the system, and that their $40,000 will be going somewhere else next year).
And what am I going to do? Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'll adjunct for awhile. Perhaps I'll work on becoming a licensed secondary education instructor and head to the inner city, and maybe I'll just say "Screw it" and go back to waiting tables - but this time I'll make those bastards call me Doctor!
Before I started grad school I heard horror stories of students who would use razor blades to cut out articles from journals or re-shelved library books in places where students would never find them (ostensibly, so that no other students could have access to them). Yeah, right. I'm sure that shit goes on at Ivy League schools, but here at State U we're too busy juggling the supposed "half time" teaching assistantship and the nine credit hours we have to complete every semester while learning the ropes. I had envisioned grad school as this one big classroom where we all learned "stuff" (coming from a metropolitan urban non-residential campus I had no idea what that "stuff" would be) and talked about it. Yeah, right.
For those of you contemplating grad school, let me offer some advice: only pursue this if you are independently wealthy OR you don't give a damn about being deep in debt for the rest of your life (I am not kidding about this one - it's really the only way to survive). I have loved grad school as a process of learning and teaching, but I'll tell you - it's fucked with my head. I'm sure I was pretty screwed up before I got here, but now that I'm on the verge of finishing up and getting out - well, suffice it to say that I am *royally* fucked up now. Thank goodness for better living through cheap university subsidized chemistry - anti-depressants, anti-anxiety medications, anti-ADD medications have all made their way into my medicine cabinet as a means of helping me get through "just one more day."
You know what's really fucked up about grad school? It's that we all BUY it. We buy the crap that tells us we can be the next the next great chemist/biologist/literary theorist. We buy the fact that we should want these stupid crappy tenure track jobs that are becoming fewer and fewer each year (thanks to those of us who glut the market and make adjuncting the wave of the future). We buy the fact that we should value what the univeristy values - working long hours for shitty pay and the ephemeral promise of a sabbatical or a corner office or a graduate seminar. We buy it because they sell it. We buy it because we're told that it's the brass ring. We buy it because we're so fucking deep in debt that we cease to have choices in the matter - or at least we *think* we do.
When I came into grad school I can remember saying "Theory is for those who can't teach" with such conviction. I believed that those folks who spent their lives trying to unravel the mysteries of "performativity" or "authenticity" were so far up their own asses that they couldn't see the forrest for the trees. I spent a large portion of my time prepping for teaching, and was smug about the fact that my students "loved my class." You gotta love those first year idealists.
Now that I'm close to finishing, I'm not so sure I care about the hallowed halls of the ivory tower institutions. In fact, I know I don't give a shit about them. I've watched some of my friends take jobs that they didn't particularly want in locations that they loathed, just to say they had a job. They work for universities whose missions are appaling in their consumerist approach (students are 'clients' and professors are expected to do whatever they can to give the clients their money's worth so that mom and dad won't call up the provost or president and complain that Amanda or Christopher aren't getting along in the system, and that their $40,000 will be going somewhere else next year).
And what am I going to do? Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'll adjunct for awhile. Perhaps I'll work on becoming a licensed secondary education instructor and head to the inner city, and maybe I'll just say "Screw it" and go back to waiting tables - but this time I'll make those bastards call me Doctor!
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Fear and Flip-flopping
Okay, so with the best of intentions, I started this blog and soon come to realize that I suck and can't keep up with regular (read: once every..oh...4 or 5 months!) blogging. This sucks. I hate the dissertation, I hate grad school, I hate the fact that I've pursued a degree that has left me 100,000+ in debt and that I can't seem to get it together enought to finish and be done with it all.
I'm afraid to hang on and I'm terrified to let go.
Ever since I saw the movie "8 Mile" I've identified with Rabbit - granted, the only thing we have in common is the white skin -
what I relate to is his FEAR. The fear of failure, the fear of success, and the fear of failing without even trying. When Rabbit freezes on stage at the very beginning of the movie my heart *still* drops into my stomach hoping that somehow *this time* he'll find a way to get past the fear and just do what he does best.
I feel the same way about my dissertation. It's like there's a crowd standing around waiting for me to CHOKE, and even though I've got a group of people who stand behind me and encourage me and believe in me - I still feel like a fraud and a failure. I've read all of the "inspirational quotes" and all of the advice on how to help oneself get past the writer's block, but I can't seem to push through it and just get on with it.
I've had a million excuses - many are quite legitimate and many have just been smoke screens that hide the FEAR I feel every time I walk into my office and sit down to write. I hate this dissertation and yet I am attached to it because it MATTERS to me. It matters that I write about this issue - not because I think I will get something back (or maybe that's the problem, I fear writing because I think it has to be perfect in order to get "The Job" or "The Publisher"), but because I need to record what happened and why it happened.
One of the problems is that I can't figure out how to say what I want to say without making it seem like someone is "right" - I don't necessarily think either side is right, but I don't know how to not get pulled into either side's argument - they're both compelling. And when I get pulled into one side or the other, I think I must be the stupidest person on earth because I can't seem to stick to my "conclusion" about the situation. I'm truely a "flip flopper" - and yet, my highly trained sense of critical analysis understands that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH CHANGING OPINIONS, it's the people who get so deeply entrenched in their concept of what's right and/or wrong that are dangerous.
I keep hoping that I am going to find a way to write this and then get out there and get a job and be done with it.
We shall see....
I'm afraid to hang on and I'm terrified to let go.
Ever since I saw the movie "8 Mile" I've identified with Rabbit - granted, the only thing we have in common is the white skin -
what I relate to is his FEAR. The fear of failure, the fear of success, and the fear of failing without even trying. When Rabbit freezes on stage at the very beginning of the movie my heart *still* drops into my stomach hoping that somehow *this time* he'll find a way to get past the fear and just do what he does best.
I feel the same way about my dissertation. It's like there's a crowd standing around waiting for me to CHOKE, and even though I've got a group of people who stand behind me and encourage me and believe in me - I still feel like a fraud and a failure. I've read all of the "inspirational quotes" and all of the advice on how to help oneself get past the writer's block, but I can't seem to push through it and just get on with it.
I've had a million excuses - many are quite legitimate and many have just been smoke screens that hide the FEAR I feel every time I walk into my office and sit down to write. I hate this dissertation and yet I am attached to it because it MATTERS to me. It matters that I write about this issue - not because I think I will get something back (or maybe that's the problem, I fear writing because I think it has to be perfect in order to get "The Job" or "The Publisher"), but because I need to record what happened and why it happened.
One of the problems is that I can't figure out how to say what I want to say without making it seem like someone is "right" - I don't necessarily think either side is right, but I don't know how to not get pulled into either side's argument - they're both compelling. And when I get pulled into one side or the other, I think I must be the stupidest person on earth because I can't seem to stick to my "conclusion" about the situation. I'm truely a "flip flopper" - and yet, my highly trained sense of critical analysis understands that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH CHANGING OPINIONS, it's the people who get so deeply entrenched in their concept of what's right and/or wrong that are dangerous.
I keep hoping that I am going to find a way to write this and then get out there and get a job and be done with it.
We shall see....
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