Seeing differently 1: making your own way

As Christmas and then the new year approaches (one of my students recently said that 2010 sounded scarily futuristic, and she may be right), this is the first of a few posts on seeing differently.

This one began as an email to a friend responding to his Facebook status update on feeling ‘behind’ in comparison to his colleagues.

I wanted to say something comforting in a comment his update but all I could think of was that I am now 2+ yrs post-thesis submission and don't think I will ever ‘catch up’ with some of my friends who have only just finished theirs, and already have a couple of articles, or book chapters and a variety of editing experience. But I realised that this sort of side glancing, side-swiping at ourselves – that others are making better, faster progress – is a normal part of academic life, and we have to find ways not to let it get us so far down that we only see 'failure' when we look at other people, rather than a track along which to progress.

The only way forward is to look forward in our own 'track' and not look sideways at other people's. So I’m adopting a new attitude: what's the next thing *I* can achieve? Finishing my marking is a thing off the 'to do' list (and counts in experience) but isn't a positive goal in my career progress track. So, now I’m aiming to finish an article I was nearly done with in the summer and then sending it to a journal. Voila, article 'under consideration' on my cv. Then on to writing my book proposal. I have written on so many job applications that I am ‘working on’ this, now it’s time to really do it. And not just work on it, but get it done and on its way to an academic press. And then I’m writing a conference paper which I can turn into an article. That will be new research, and I hope it will remind me how much I like my research topics and texts.

I know I can’t do all of this at once. And, yes, I do have to do my marking (about 130-140 essays) over the Christmas holidays. But since I managed to finish a big project this term, along with my heavy teaching commitments, I’m starting to think that I might be able to do it. But I won’t if I keep letting other people’s achievements hold me back. So from now on, in time for the New Year, I’m going to start seeing my work differently.

Building up to Christmas.

Ok. I admit it. I am now starting to get excited about Christmas. I have to keep a lid on this, because I have a ridiculous amount of work to do between now and the end of term next week, but Christmas is definitely coming, and I don't mind.

I mind in October, when I can't find a birthday card in the shops for Christmas cards in the way.
I mind when adverts for Christmas presents take over my TV.
I mind when a major department store has its 'Christmas sale' at the beginning of November.

But it is now December, it's nearly the end of term, and the frosty winter weather (when it is not raining cats and dogs) and darker evenings make the delicate Christmas lights in the city centre twinkle just enough to suggest some magic for the season. I think the City where the Castle is also a Prison do a very good job with their decorations.

That isn't to say I'm entirely ready for Christmas. I'm not. But I have now got a little 'Bag o' Christmas' where I'm putting the Christmas cards and presents I have already bought - so I know what I've got, where it is, and for whom I have still to buy a gift. And as my little 'Bag o' Christmas' fills up, I realise I'm really looking forward to Christmas this year (despite the fact I will have 140 assignments to mark over the festive period). I'm even playing Christmas music as I'm writing this!

I was doing some reading in the Red Coffee Chain shop this afternoon, and the poor staff didn't get a break for the 3 hours I was there. They are very efficient, but the queue never seemed to get any shorter. Outside I could see people struggling their way around town with big bags of shopping, and they would come into Red Coffee Chain and show each other presents for mutual friends. There was a fair amount of pushing and jostling going on too - that's one part of the build up to Christmas that I don't enjoy. It's not about getting to the counter first, people. It's about peace and goodwill towards all people. And the lady in front of me in the till queue at the shop that is not 'just a shop' where I had stopped in for milk and vegetables looked both surprised and grateful when I offered to steady her precariously balanced basket while she unloaded it.

There is no need to be grumpy with the random passer by who is also trying to get their shopping done. In fact, a bit of co-operation would make everyone's Christmas shopping experience a little more, well..., Christmassy!

Phew

Having spent a little time (whilst washing my hair) yesterday planning exactly what I was going to say to the Department administrator / HoD / HR / Payroll today if I did not get paid, I checked my account this morning, and actually - to my surprise - found money in it.

Payment. Finally.

I'm relieved.

I don't like using my cross voice....

Waiting for the bus

I left work late this evening. My Little Dog is staying with the Artist for a while so that I can dig myself out from under a mountain of work without adding in the guilt of not spending enough 'quality time' playing with her. It also gives me a bit of time back, especially in the evenings.

So, because I didn't have to be home to walk the Little Dog, I stayed at work until about 7, getting some bits and pieces finished. I made my way down to the main campus bus stop and saw a long queue of people waiting. And it got longer and longer. I say a queue, but actually there is no sensible queueing position there. Stairs lead from the centre of campus at both ends of the long bus stop. No one knows which end is the right end to queue. It was more a gaggle of people really. A rapidly expanding gaggle.

And there were people who had clearly been waiting some time. Everyone looked up the road when we heard a vehicle, and there were some disappointed sighs when one turned out to be a coach dropping someone off on campus rather than a bus to take us all away. As the gaggle got bigger, I could see people watching each other suspiciously: "are they going to jump in front of me to get on the bus first? will one single decker bus be able to hold all of us? (probably not). Will we all fit on a double decker bus? (well if we're lucky). I was in this queue first, and no one is getting to the bus doors before me. Especially the pushy person, who has repositioned themselves in this gathering 3 times, so as to get closer to the usual door opening point...".

When the bus arrived, the gaggle pushed together towards the door. So much determination to get on first meant that those wanting to get off were fighting their way through. A young man near me carrying a long case (musical instrument? snooker cue?) positioned the case to make sure no one could get next to or past him as he made his way to the front of the queue.

Waiting for buses makes people very selfish.

He got on and said "single to town". "Please", I added for him in my head. (Apparently bus queues make people very rude, as well). Eventually, I got on and found a seat towards the back of the bus. The double decker bus filled, and before we left there were people standing in the aisle. A few stops on from campus, an old and clearly frail lady got on the bus. She stood holding on as the bus set off. I was pleasantly surprised when a young lady sitting in one of the fold-down seats at the front offered her seat. At first Frail Lady refused saying she was only going a few stops, but the young lady was clearly uncomfortable sitting whilst Frail Lady stood, so she stood up and offered again. Frail Lady sat down. A few more stops and Frail Lady got off; the young woman took her seat again, but only briefly as she almost immediately offered it to another older (but not old) lady with shopping who got on. Shopping lady, however, found a seat much further back, and she sat down again. At the next stop a young man with learning difficulties got on, and again the young woman offered her seat. He didn't take it. But at every stop the young woman watched who got on, and offered her seat to another older or frailer than herself.

So I revise: Waiting for the bus makes some people very selfish.

Essay questions

My Shakespeare students have essays due at the end of term. The course convenor set the essay questions - they have a choice of about 12 - and I think they are really interesting and thought provoking questions. The students do not, at this stage, have the option of making up their own questions, so we make sure they are offered a variety of topics. Nevertheless, I have never had so many students email me to ask if they can change the questions as I have had this year on this course.

In some ways I might consider this a good thing - students thinking about ways in which they could talk about the texts, pursuing their own interests. However, most of the changes they want to make are ways of making the questions we have set easier. They are not pursuing new, interesting areas of research. Now, these are final year students. On this course they only write one essay and then have an exam at the end of the year. The essay questions are meant to be challenging. I am happy to look over my students' plans, and to discuss their possible approaches to the questions with them, but - even if I could, and I can't (I don't have the authority to do so) - I am not prepared to make the questions easier.

And I truly don't believe I would be doing my students any favours if I did.

Matters of Urgency

Dear Dept. Administrator,

Thank you for the email you forwarded to me yesterday. Prompted to do so by the red exclamation mark which usually denotes urgency regarding emails, I read this at my earliest opportunity. I am so glad that, four weeks into the term, my attention has been urgently drawn to all of the wonderful services the campus travel agent can provide for staff.

Unfortunately, I cannot afford to take advantage of these services, because I still do not have a contract, and will therefore not be paid until the end of next month at the earliest. Unless the travel agent facilities are able to cover funding me for my rent, phone, electricity and council tax bills, which I see from their multi-font poster attachment they do not, I will, for the moment, not be running over to their offices in any kind of hurry.

I would suggest that the request of the travel agent to circulate their promotional poster (which does not have a time limit on it) is not actually a matter of urgency, whatever the little red exclamation mark may tell you, or me. The lack of university network access, library borrowing rights and bill paying facilities that I and the other TAs are currently experiencing is, however, worthy of a little red exclamation mark. Please.

Autumn

I like autumn.

I like crisp mornings, and changing leafy colours. I like the start of the academic year and the new start that it brings (it's actually better than New Year to me). New first year students looking lost, new courses to teach, new chances to 'be more productive this year'. I have agreed to take on a lot of work this year - not only teaching - but I am feeling much better about it now I have finished the admin job and can make my focus entirely academic. Teaching starts on Monday; the need to be better organised to fit things in around it is always a motivating factor.

My Little Dog likes autumn too. She likes the crunchy, swishy sound fallen leaves make when she walks through them or kicks them up, and the way that the wind floats the leaves around for her to chase. She also likes rain, because it means cuddles with towels (otherwise sensibly known as 'getting dried') when we get back.

She wasn't too sure this morning, though, when a leaf dropped beautifully and silently from a tree and landed squarely on the top of her head. Or this evening, when the same thing happened again (this second time was, judging by the look she gave me, seemingly ALL MY FAULT). Apparently autumn is not so much fun when the leaves take you by surprise.

Yielding the floor

I was going to write a new post this evening, but having done some blog reading elsewhere, I've decided it wasn't important.

This post over at Victorianitas on the other hand, is important. I wanted to leave a comment there, but I didn't know quite what to say. So today I'm yielding the floor entirely to September Blue.

Preparation

Teaching starts next week, and in the first 10 week term, I'm giving 6 lectures. But trying to manage my time and get started on one or more of these is proving difficult.

'Why?', you ask.

Because although teaching starts next week, I do not yet have a contract. Not a problem for preparation, in and of itself, you might say. And you'd be right. Although it will undoubtedly mean that I am not going to get paid in October, this seems to be standard for teaching assistants now - we go to the bottom of the contracts pile - and not getting paid at the end of the first month of teaching is not new to me. It's a problem I can grumble about, and it might affect my ability to pay bills, but it doesn't actually affect my getting organised preparation.

Not having a contract does, however, mean I also cannot have a library card. This is because the university prioritises money over teaching and research, and cut me off at the end of my last 9month teaching contract. (You may not borrow books or use the e-resources off campus if you are not paying money to or being paid money by the university.) Officially, then, I can have a library card from the start of my teaching contract, but not before. So I can start preparing for teaching as long as I do it after I've started.

The very helpful lady in the library said she could bypass the systems for me (by which the library are notified by HR that I exist after I have signed and returned my contract) if I bring my contract to the library enquiry desk.

I would do this. But I don't yet have a contract. And I am unlikely to have one before the start of next week - last year I didn't have one until 2 or 3 weeks into the term. So if that's anything to go by (and if my friends hadn't today offered me space on their library cards), I could probably start preparing for my Monday lectures in week 4 and week 5 in the middle of week 4.

Helpful, eh?

Soundtrack

You know sometimes times you start singing a song to yourself, and it takes a while to work out how it got in your head - particularly if it isn't a song you've been listing to deliberately? Usually these are TV or film soundtracks, or music on an advert that have surreptitiously found their way into your head. It might take a while, but eventually you figure it out.

This week I've been wandering along, or sitting down at my desk, or having a shower and these songs have popped into my head:

'The Multi-coloured music bus'
('All aboard, the multi-coloured music bus. Its the most fantasic bus you've ever seen. The driver is a man called Sam, his brother George the ticket man...')

'Let there be peace on earth'
('Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be...') [I can give you all of the words for this, but I won't]

'Sweetheart tree'
('Won't you come with me, to the sweetheart tree; come and carve your name next to mine...')

The first two were from Junior school - we sung them in the choir. The last one was the music that my ballet class danced to in a show. We had pink 'princess' dresses. I think I was about 7.

I haven't heard these on TV recently. I haven't heard them at all recently. But for some reason, my brain is playing bits of the soundtrack to my childhood. How odd. Any suggestions why?

Time Out

The Physio and I are going on holiday together next week - a whole week of holiday rather than a long weekend snatched away from work-time. We're going to spend some time in Festival City and in the Beautiful Scottish City that I Miss. I'm quite excited to be going there with the Physio; he's already shown me a lot of his favourite places, and I'm looking forward to sharing this place that I love with him. I was very happy living there, and there are lots of places I want to show him - calm places, beautiful places, slightly quirky places. I am a little nervous though: things will have changed there since I last visited. I hope it isn't too different. I really hope he likes it too.

I'm also looking forward to taking a week off work. The last two weeks at my admin job have been quite difficult. The admin manager has changed the programmes for which some of us are responsible so that now, in the last 3 weeks of my position there, I'm learning new processes and getting to grips with new courses. One is only new to me, the other is new to the Faculty. For the second, no one in the office knows how it works. The transfer from the other Faculty was poorly organised, and there has been no sensible hand over from office to office - at least not to those actually doing the administration. I discovered after a few days of frantically trying to track down information that my manager (and his manager) knew where some of that information was, they had just failed to pass that information on to me.

Added to this, the rearrangement of responsibilities has led to some ill-feeling in the office amongst my fellow administrators (not aimed at me, because I am temporary). This is largely due to very poor management. I would suggest that inventing a meeting to go to, and saying "sort this out amongst yourselves" is not really the best management plan when you already know the issue is contentious. No one wants to make difficult or unpopular decisions, but doing that - "sorting it out" - is why the manager is paid significantly more than we are. This ill-feeling is taking over the office. The team-work and co-operation of getting through the Exam Boards seems to be falling away. It is not a happy office any more.

I find dealing with stressful atmospheres - especially over things which need not be stressful - very difficult. I like my world to be a calmer place. At lunchtime yesterday I had planned to do some research related reading, but after a very busy morning combined with the tension in the office I couldn't focus through the brain-fog. Instead I sat staring into space, not really thinking about anything. I used to have that kind of calm time out at yoga classes (I must find some more!), where I could just focus on stretching and breathing to relax. It was quite odd to find that I could create that 'time out' space without the yoga class - and without actually trying. And I went back to the office feeling much calmer and managed to get a lot done in the afternoon. Still, I am looking forward to not being there next week. Hopefully, by the time I get back the busy-ness of the start of term will force harmony upon my colleagues.

Term is soon starting at the University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison, too, and I have been given a lot of teaching (for which I am very grateful - I shouldn't have to do admin on top of teaching to pay my bills this year). It is going to be another busy year, and before it starts taking time out to spend with the Physio in a place that I love seems like an ideal way to charge my batteries.

Sillyness.

I just read this.

It strikes me as odd that those in authority have suspended the Doctors concerned. Why? They say that it did not involve patients, and patient care was never compromised during this sillyness. If this is true, then sillyness is all it was - no harm done to anyone. But now, a presumably busy A&E is even shorter on staff because these doctors and nurses have been suspended.

That's not sillyness. That's madness.

Writing

I like writing.

I'm not talking about the process of academic writing, although I do like the sense of achievement when a chapter, paper, article or lecture is finished (this does not happen often enough - especially the personal research related ideas there!). I enjoyed writing my PhD thesis, although the final deadline and the re-writing processes immediately before that were not too much fun. What I'm talking about here is actually writing. By hand. With a pen.

On my way to my admin job the other day - I know this sounds strange - I felt an almost overwhelming need to write something. Anything. And I realised how much time I have spent at a computer, or shuffling papers, scribbling quick, untidy, notes or using mini post-its to mark pages relevant to lectures. It's been AGES since I have sat down and written by hand anything longer than a sentence or two, a 'happy birthday, love from me' in a card or a brief phone message scribble. And at work I had to go straight back into scribbling notes, emailing, filing etc.

Today I addressed an envelope in my very best joined up handwriting and I felt strangely pleased. I like how my careful handwriting looks (not wanting to boast too much, it is quite pretty) and it is much more satisfying than typing a letter or an envelope.

Marking undergraduate exam scripts earlier in the summer, I realised how few of them hand-write anything (either that, or the teaching of handwriting in schools has declined since I was taught 'joined up writing' and then allowed to use a fountain pen). I know no one does their best writing under the time-pressured conditions of exams, but still, some were barely legible.

I think the decline of handwriting is very sad. Not that I would do away with the wonders of word processing packages for my academic writing - cut, copy, paste makes drafting so much easier (even if sometimes starting to draft is actually easier for me with a pen and paper). But I am going to start doing more handwriting - letters to friends for example. I think - even in the increasingly computerised world where communication is almost instant through emails and social networking sites - people like to get mail. I know I do. And perhaps that is precisely because it is so rare for people to take time to actually write anything these high-tech, high-speed days.

I find this article extremely worrying.

I may save it for the next time any of my students tell me feminism is an old-fashioned out-dated concept.

I don't *think* that was what I said...

After some serious consideration, weighing up how much work it will be and balancing that against making my CV shiny, and generally looking like I know what I'm talking about in the world of early modern literature, I agreed to take over writing the summary of the year's work in renaissance literature studies. Someone I know by association with Supervisor emailed me out of the blue saying he now has post doc funding and his project means he is too busy to do it now, but if I was interested he would suggest me as his successor. It is one of very few times that 'who you know' has actually worked for me. (I say this with some hesitation, knowing how much work I'll have to do in quite a short time, but it will be very shiny on my CV).

The guy who is handing over to me sent me an email saying he'd already sent for some of the books to review, and he would post them on to me, but he would like to keep two of them for his own research. So he suggested two options and asked which I would prefer:

a) He would keep the books, read them, write a short review paragraph for each of them and send that to me to be silently included in my own review

or

b) He will send the books to me, I can read and do my own review and then send those particular ones back.

As much as I was tempted to option a) - less work for me - I decided that I was uncomfortable passing his work off as mine both because I fundamentally object to plagiarism, and because if the comments are going to have my name to them, then I want to have read what 'I' am commenting on. (And you know that the one time anyone asks me about anything I've written, it will be about one of these books that I actually haven't read). So I sent him an email supporting option b), and promising to read those ones first and get them back to him ASAP. I told him I'd be on holiday for a couple of weeks, and asked him not to send anything until after I got back to make sure they don't get lost in being held at the post office. He said that was fine.

Today I got an email telling me he had put the books in the post, and could I let him know when they arrive. [Fine; yes; no problem]. But it also said 'I have kept a few as I mentioned earlier - shall I send you the reviews to add into your piece?'

Erm... I don't think that was what I said. And really, if you'd already decided what you were going to do, why did you even ask?

mini updates

Once again it's been a long time since I wrote a post. It's not even that I haven't had things to post about:

- I've been on a holiday with my family
- The physio and I are now attempting a long distance relationship
- My admin job has had certain ... quirks
- I am attempting to turn a conference paper into an article
- Until today I was looking unemployment in September squarely in the face
- I am still negotiating the evil world of the academic job market

I really must get back into the blogging habit!

Is someone trying to tell me something?

Last night, I dreamed that the university to which I was attached (in the dream - it wasn't a university I recognise from my waking life, so I don't know what position I had there) had moved me into a different office. Without telling me. I had to ask a friend (one I did recognise from my waking life, but whom I have not seen for some time) where my stuff was and why I'd been moved. He didn't know why, but took me to what can only be described as a cupboard with bookshelves and a chair, where I found that all of my boxfiles of printed off articles, notes and my own work had been drenched in a large scale leak. I tried to get them out to dry them, but couldn't do it quickly enough; there was no space to spread them out and suddenly there was no one there to help.

Oh dear.

In case of emergency, take laptop

My conference accommodation which they claimed was a hotel on campus was really a 'done up' halls of residence. We did get en suite rooms, but we also got halls-sized single beds (about 2/3 the size of an ordinary single), a grotty old wardrobe, a desk with a lamp, a chair, and central heating over which we had absolutely no control.

Sound familiar?

One night - having taken ages to get to sleep because it was so hot due to the heating over which I had no control - I was woken by a very loud siren. A little disorientated, I initially thought it was the alarm clock in the room and I tried to turn it off, but when I had woken up properly, I discovered it was, in fact, the fire alarm. I got out of bed, put on my jeans and shoes which I had put on the chair (I don't remember consciously laying them out for speedy dressing, but I think I had subconsciously slipped back into 'living in halls' mode, and we had so many fire alarms that I got in the habit of doing that) grabbed a cardigan and left the building.

Postgrad students, TAs, lecturers, senior lecturers and big named professors all standing outside at 2am in their pyjamas is a great levelling experience. Some with no cardigan / coat, some with no shoes etc - but 60% of them were clutching laptops to their chest. In the middle of the night, the fire alarm sounds and the very first thing they thought of was picking up their work.

So I wonder, does it make me a bad academic that I can honestly say that had I taken my laptop to the conference, I would have left it in my room?

[In case anyone is concerned, there was no fire - false alarm]

An Imposter

Earlier this week I went to a large conference of early modernists. It's the first conference at which I've given a paper in a few years, and I was very nervous about it. I know many academics have fears of being revealed as frauds at these things (imposter syndrome) - even if they really do know their stuff - but I've not done much in the way of my own research for quite some time, and I was convinced everyone would be able to tell. I felt like an interloper at this gathering of early modernists. Most of my teaching recently (and research for lectures) has been on topics much more modern.

I sat through the conference, listening to lots of other academics whose paper were clear and impressively constructed. My paper was in the penultimate panel, so I spent much of the conference worrying that my paper wasn't as good, that I'd never be able to answer that sort of question, that I'd forgotten everything I used to know around the topic on which I was speaking (I took the paper from a chapter of my thesis), etc. Thankfully, the paper went well, so I think I got away with it.

I also met someone else who is working on the same parliamentary bill (in a different context) as I discussed in my paper - we plan to share work on this when we have written the articles. I'm planning to, no, going to turn this paper into a journal article. And then I'm going to start on a book proposal based on the thesis and / or a new article from scratch. That way at the next conference, I'll still worry about being exposed as knowing nothing, but I'll at least have some new research to discuss so that I can trick other conference delegates into thinking that I do know something.

Erm...?

Notice on a pub/hotel wall:

FREE

FUNCTION ROOM

FOR HIRE

Mail

Today at work I received a bulk mailing email containing this text:

"A number of personal items have been sent to the Mailroom recently in University PPI envelopes. Please note that PPI envelopes are to be used for business purposes only and MUST NOT be used for personal mail. Any personal mail found in PPI envelopes will be returned to you and your head of department may be informed. Thank you."

And I find myself wondering several things: how do the mailroom know that it's personal mail? How would they know to whom specifically it should be returned? And what terrible fate would await me if the headmaster - no, wait - Head of Department were to be informed?

The only answer to the first two questions - if the mailroom are sure that it's personal mail sent in university prepaid envelopes - is that they open the outgoing mail. I'm not sure that's entirely legal (but do correct me if I'm wrong, here). Nevertheless, their choice of the verb 'found' in this message - "any personal mail found in PPI envelopes" - implies that they do indeed open mail to find such things.

Well, this is possibly a poor choice of words on their part. And I'm pretty sure that they don't open all the mail that goes through the postroom. If they do, they have far too much time on their hands, and cutting down the number of staff there might well pay for the odd personal letter that goes through the system. But if they don't open all the mail, then really, the Powers That Be (and Complain) in the mailroom are just guessing that it's personal mail. And their policy of returning it to the sender could result in significant delays in important communication to, for example, external examiners who choose to receive mail at their home address rather than at work. I have sent several such packages / letters that might look suspiciously personal through the mailroom in my administrative job. A thank you card to a guest speaker could also be classified as 'personal', and would look so, although it would technically be official university business. On the other hand, I could, but don't, send personal mail to friends at other universities that looks official through the university's pre-paid post (for example officially addressed to Dr September Blue, University in the Big City etc. etc.). Mailroom might never know.

And that brings me back to arguing that the only way of knowing this would be to open all the mail. In which case, surely you can find something better to do?

The wearing of jeans to work

Whenever I begin teaching a new group of students, I make an effort not to wear jeans on seminar days. This, I think, stems from my days as a postgrad teaching assistant, when I felt I had to look semi-authoritative because I didn't have any Dr. title to provide this authority. I tried then to project to the students (and myself?) an image proving I was qualified to teach them. I suppose I now do this as a confirmation of that. I set off with the intention of wearing 'tutor clothes' every week, but as term goes on I start to slip, and by the end of the year I'm wearing jeans to seminars. I figure by that point if they don't see me as their 'tutor' jeans won't make a difference (and I do like to promote equality of ideas and opinions between tutor and students in my seminars!). I have never given a lecture in jeans. This, I know, is a matter of maintaining my own confidence.

For my new admin job, I wouldn't wear jeans to work. Not as a spur to my confidence, but because my image of office/secretarial workers is smarter than that (smart casual, not necessarily suits). None of the other ladies in my office wear jeans either. Presumably they feel the same as I do.

There are only three men in the administrative unit in which I work. One at my level (lowly admin assistant), one is my line-manager's manager, and the other is my line-manager's manager's manager. Both top level administrators wear suits and ties for work. Lowly administrator wears jeans and a sweater or a casual shirt. No one seems to question this. No one seems to object. But I wonder what would happen if I turned up in jeans and a hoodie tomorrow? I'm sure someone would notice, and probably they would object.

So, ignoring my seminar jeans issue (which is, I acknowledge) entirely of my own imposition) what do you think about wearing jeans for work? Do you think its appropriateness is gendered? Am I imposing my own rules again?

Student comments - about me

This week was the last week of my Contemporary Women’s Writing course. It has been a lot of hard work, and attendance at the classes has been pretty poor, but other than that, I have actually enjoyed teaching it. (And I have learnt that I can research and write two lectures in a week, and teach a 3rd novel on top, but I wouldn’t recommend this if there is an alternative.)

I jokingly said to those who turned up one week that I was going to start taking it personally if attendance continued to be as low as it was (which it did), and one of the students offered as an possible explanation that there was too much reading on the course. This is a complaint I think I’ve heard about every single course I’ve taught – the only difference with this is that I chose the texts and their number. But I don’t believe that there were too many texts. When I taught a long(ish) novel, I scheduled it over two classes. Shorter texts (poetry, a play, a novella, and a collection of short stories) got a week each. If the students planned ahead they had plenty of time to get the reading done. And I did point out to them that I managed to do the reading and produce a lecture for each text. (And in fairness, one of the other students did agree with me).

Last week I gave out the module evaluation questionnaires to the five students who turned up. Two of them – my best attenders – are visiting overseas students. They thought there was too much reading, and the lectures were too difficult. I suspect both of these comments have some connection to their language difficulties; they both struggled a little with their English at points. But, if lectures too long had been a complaint shared by the other students (which it wasn't), then I'd be happy to write shorter lectures! Of the others, two were very positive, and it’s nice to know that I hit the right level with some of the students. The other had some good points, and some bad, and I think it’s unfortunate that convenors don’t get the opportunity to respond to students on the points they raise on evaluations. Had they been raised at a consultative meeting, here are the points, and what I would have said in response:

1) the tutor quoted from critics and used their words rather then her own.
2) some of the texts were too modern so it was difficult to find criticism.

Well, yes, in response to 1. I did indeed quote from critics in my lectures. But I did contextualise, and I did explain, comment on and argue against their comments. Engaging with criticism is an important part of academic writing; I was trying to demonstrate to you ways in which you could do this. And this also relates to 2. All of my critical quotations were fully referenced on the PowerPoint slides I made available to you, so I have done some of the research for you on all of the texts, including the more modern novels. I also put links to / electronic copies of relevant material on the Virtual Learning Environment for you to help with the criticism that was particularly difficult to find. By third year – which is the level of these particular students – you should also be capable of doing a little bit extra on your own research, but if you’re struggling, then ask your tutor. And dealing with the more contextual part of the second comment, I’m not sure I have any need to make a defence or give an explanation: you chose a course called contemporary women’s writing.

Student comments - not about me

I started a new admin job last week in the Education Faculty at the other University here in the City where the Castle is also a Prison. It's three days a week, and should take care of my bills over the summer, which is a relief.

As part of this, I minuted a staff-student consultative meeting this week. It's very interesting to hear what students think about courses in a department where you don't do any teaching, and see how different departments run. This is one in which a lot of the teaching is practical stuff, rather than book based - I'm used to consultative meetings in which all of the students on all of the courses complain about having too much reading to do. In fact, my Women's Writing students at the same University have complained about this to me (more on this another day). But, as an informed observer - I have some thoughts on how seminars work from both a student and tutor perspective - some of the students' complaints revealed much more about students' 'faulty' expectations than about the tutors. For example:

"Our tutor didn't know enough about his subject to teach us anything. When he asked a question and it stayed quiet he just kept waiting for someone to answer rather than telling us the answer himself. And sometimes, when he had us doing group work, when one group asked a question, he asked the other group if they could answer it. He was waiting for us to tell each other because he didn't know the answer himself."

Now to me, waiting for students to answer rather than answering your own question immediately, and having them think for themselves and discuss with each other rather than treating the tutor as a teacher, seems to me like very good tutorial practice, and something I try to implement in my own seminars. They are not the place for me to give the students information - that happens in lectures. But what I found really odd was that the Chair of the meeting did not attempt to address this complaint. He just moved on and left the accusation of not knowing enough about the topic to linger over the head of the absent part time tutor. And I wanted to interject. But I was not wearing my academic hat to the meeting, so I had to just write down what was said and leave it alone. But it does emphasise that students expect university to be like school: that they will be spoon-fed information and won't have to do any independent thinking or group work. What worries me is that these were second year students. I don't know why this idea wasn't shaken out of them in their first year, but it should have been. And the course co-ordinator ought to have put them right at this meeting too, otherwise the same sort of complaints and expectations will continue.

So, for the record: your tutor may well know what he is talking about. He may also know what he is doing in running his seminars like that. You have to do some independent thinking. At least some of the time...

Application enthusiasm.

Gathering up the enthusiasm to complete another application for a full time, permanent lectureship that I'm pretty sure I've got no chance of getting is very tough. I'm sure that lots of you reading Falling Leaves know and understand that feeling. And that you will also recognise the little nagging voice that I can hear in my head, saying "but this one might be the one you could have got, and if you don't apply then you won't get it and will have missed an opportunity. You will miss out and it will be your own fault".

So here I am, trying to finish marking a pile of essays by Monday morning (so that they can be moderated whilst I am at my admin job in the middle of the week and then can complete the marking admin processes and get them back to the office for the unmoveable deadline of Friday), attempting to prepare a lecture for 9am on Friday morning (my admin job takes 9-5 on Tues, Weds and Thurs), and trying convince myself to squeeze in completing the application for this job that I'm not going to get ("but might be the one I could have got if only I made the time to apply for it").

I just happened to check my mailbox on the way back from the shop today for mail from yesterday, and I had received a rejection letter for a job for which I applied some weeks ago. You may think, "At least they said thanks but no thanks, which is more than most places." And I'd agree with you. But I received a rejection letter from the same institution for the same job last week. Now, I know this is proabably just an admin error - maybe through a change of staff - but, being rejected twice for the same job seems particularly harsh. They really don't want me.

And it's not helping my levels of application enthusiasm.

Tourist attractions

Last weekend The Physio and I went for a weekend away together in a Historic City. The weather was lovely, so we spent some time wandering around looking at the old buildings, some of which look like they are falling over. There is a strange mixed of ancient and modern there, but somehow it all seems to work together.

We went to some of the tourist attractions too, including a castle tower, which looked very small in comparison with the Scottish Castles I'm used to, but was very interesting nonetheless (and, in fairness, is only part of what used to be the Castle). But what most surprised me was this medieval townhouse, which is, for the most part, full of modern replicas, which means that you can sit at the banqueting table, handle the pottery, and sit in the parlour at the merchant's desk. They do have some original artifacts under glass - you can't handle those, but you can look at and read all about them. There are also lots of files containing information about literacy, games, fabric and all sorts of interesting bits and pieces. But they also have a fascinating exhibition on prayer, pestilence and plague, detailing the medical and dental facilities in the area in the medieval period, showing medical equipment, describing hospitals, and giving 'home remedies' for things like headaches and chapped lips (you can actually pick up a leaflet with the recipes in them if you want to). All in all, it is well worth a visit. As is the Minster. Give yourself plenty of time for that though - there's so much to take in. Perhaps too much for one visit.

The Physio and I might have to go back to that City to explore some more. Those are only a sample of the places to visit. So much to do; so little time.

All Change, please

I suppose for background to this post you need to know that I have been dating The Physio for around two months now. I've kept it a bit quiet, because it's very new, and it seems to be going well, and I didn't want to jinx it!

Last weekend The Physio was going away to North Eastern City for a stag night. Aspiring Author, my friend from the Beautiful Scottish City that I Miss, wanted to come and visit me and the Little Dog, so I thought that would be an ideal weekend. I could then spend the weekend with Aspiring Author without neglecting The Physio, or not spending enough time with Aspiring Author because I'm also trying to include The Physio (and I thought that Aspiring Author might be a bit uncomfortable sleeping in my living room if The Physio was in my room).

The Physio joked about me spending the weekend with another man the first time he went away, but did add that he wasn't really the jealous sort and that I "don't seem like the cheating type". I'd say this makes him a reasonably good judge of character, although I'm not entirely sure what the 'cheating type' is like.

But I'm pretty sure that I must have looked like the 'cheating type' at the train station on Sunday, when I walked into the station with Aspiring Author, hugged him (he's a good and long standing friend) as he got on the train, bought a coffee, walked over to the next platform, sat for 10 minutes waiting for the next train, hugged The Physio as he arrived and left the station with him.

I wonder what the station staff thought...

I agree.

I was just reading this post at Victorianitas, and was writing a comment, and realised that it was turning into a post of its own so I brought it over here to Falling Leaves.

I agree with everything September Blue says about the job market and her response to those who already have permanent jobs - and presumably salaries - who are not being sufficiently sensitive to the worries of PhD students and post-docs. (This does not apply to all salaried academics, I hasten to add, only to those holding those opinions to which she rightly objects).

I was talking (casually, on the bus) to a very bright masters student the other day who was planning on doing a PhD, and had had several meetings with members of the academic staff to talk about it. I asked her why she wanted to do one, and she gave two answers 1) She's interested in her subject and 2) she would quite like an academic job. When I said to her that the job market was very bad, and having a PhD is necessary for, but won't guarantee you, an academic job, she looked at me in complete surprise and said surely there aren't that many people with PhDs to take the jobs? I told her that the last short term teaching job I'd applied for (because there had been NO permanent jobs for 6months) had had 180 applicants, and she was speechless. No one explains to pre-PhDs that the job market is rubbish. And no one explains that it's not just any vacancy either, it has to be one in your area. You seem only to learn this from those who have been there / are there / are struggling to make post-doc ends meet whilst trying not to be totally disillusioned about an academic career.

I taught this student last year as a third year undergrad. She is not stupid. She is doing well on her MA. But you can't expect undergrad and MA students to KNOW things about academia if no one in a position to know tells them. At best, many academics who are settled in their jobs aren't aware of quite how bad the market is; at worst (and I don't think this applies to any of the departments with which I am associated), universities NEED postgrad students, and being honest and realistic in meetings with potential applicants won't bring in the money.

Yes, we should do PhDs because we are good at the subject and because we love the subject. But we should make sure that students know what they are getting in to. Those who really want to do it will do it anyway. Those who aren't sure might think twice about the investment of time and money they will have to make without any job guarantees. That does not mean they don’t love their subject. But loving your subject, as September Blue rightly suggests, does not keep a roof over your head, or put food on your plate.

Re-reading and re-thinking

For the course I am teaching on Contemporary Women's Writing, I'm re-reading (and preparing a lecture on) Jackie Kay's Trumpet.

I have taught this novel before, a long time ago, to first year students at the university in the Beautiful Scottish City that I Miss. I remember thinking it was a useful text for teaching (identity/gender/sexuality/narrative structure), but that I didn't like or enjoy it very much. I chose to put it on the Women's Writing course because I thought it worked well with some of the other novels I'm teaching, because it's a gift if you want students to engage with theory, particularly Butler's arguments on performativity, and lastly because this course is a LOT of work for me, so I put on as many texts as I could that I had already read / taught. I know the last reason is not a good pedagogical reason, but when you are only being paid a TA contact-hourly rate to write a new lecture every week on a subject which is well outside your research area you need to give yourself a break sometimes! And I wouldn't have put it on the course if it did not work well with the other texts and provide excellent theoretical discussion possibilities etc etc.

I'm hoping that my third-year women's writing class will find it interesting, and engage with it on a level which my former first-year students could not, just by virtue of being first year students. I'm hoping that this group will not ask me how Millie and Joss had sex. I'm hoping that the essays will not include painfully embarrassing sentences which end with "but as my tutor pointed out, we don't want to know about that" ("Dear second-marker, I did indeed say this, but not in this context; I was making a salient point about difference, privacy and instrusion, rather than being totally prudish as this implies"). I'm hoping that these students will all have read the novel, and already have some opinions on how we might talk about it in a women's writing class.

But what has surprised me about re-reading the novel is how much better I like it this time round. And not just because I myself am now much more confident dealing with the ideas with which it engages, and the theories we might use in discussion. Or because I am now a much more experienced, confident tutor. More that I like the novel. I've actually found it so moving in places that I had to put it down so I didn't cry into my latte whilst reading it in a large coffee chain's comfy chairs.

I have realised that the last two novels that I have put on this course are not happy novels (the next one is The God of Small Things, which is not cheery, but is one of the most beautifully written novels I have ever read). I think I'll have to take them chocolate at the end of the course to raise the happy levels.

But I stand by my course text choices. And I'm glad I have the opportunity to look at Trumpet again with new eyes.

Monetary surprises.

In light of September Blue's post commenting on warning students about the academic job market, this post seems particularly timely.

I am timetabled to teach 4 hours a week and am paid for 12 to account for prep time. Of course, it's token "prep time" - I work many, many more than I have ever tried to count (if I worked out how much I get paid per actual hour worked it would be too depressing to think about).

Setting aside, for the moment, my second teaching job - 2 of those 4 scheduled hours are taken up by this - for which I have not been paid at all yet because of their different pay claim system, I'm pausing to think about my pay slip from the big University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison.

When I openend it the other day I had a pleasant surprise. More money than I was expecting! And it wasn't even a mistake that they would take back from me; I had forgotten about the three days I had worked as secretary in Philosophy. Bonus money! (Well, already spent on bills, but bonus in being there when I wasn't expecting it). But what was more of a surprise - and not quite so pleasant - was that I discovered that I got paid almost as much for 3 days of secretary work as I did for a whole month teaching in English.

I know I'm lucky to have any sort of academic job at all. I know I'm lucky to get paid (however little at the moment) to do something that I really enjoy doing. But if I didn't love the teaching and the research - when I finally get to do some - I'd be very tempted to be a secretary full time.

So yes, tell MA students the facts and figures about the job market. And about how flexible you need to be both in terms of type of institution and of place in the country / a country / any country. And about the pay for part time TA work (if it's available - and it may not be).

No one should go into this with their eyes shut. Especially if they would rather be a secretary.

Sharing poetry

I heard this poem for the first time in a lecture yesterday, and found it so interesting that I thought I would share it with you. Enjoy!

La Figlia Che Piange
O quam te memorem virgo...

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair -
Lean on a garden urn -
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair -
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained suprise -
Fling them to the ground and turn
With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.

So I would have had him leave,
So I would have had her stand and grieve,
So he would have left
As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised,
As the mind deserts the body it has used.
I should find
Some way incomparably light and deft,
Some way we both should understand,
Simple and faithless as a smile and a shake of the hand.

She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight, and the noon's repose.

-- T. S. Eliot

Confession

OK. So here is my confession:

I am in love with one of my students.

Before you condemn me to an everlasting academic underworld torment of never finished book-reviews, undergrad essay mountains which grow taller the more you mark, and TA peanuts pay for evermore, I should probably explain.

He a mature-ish student (mid 20s), he’s tall, he’s slim, he’s quite attractive. He has small glasses and floppy hair. He wears shirts under tidy jumpers under neat jackets. He looks like he ought to be writing poetry in a garret room. He attends all of the lectures, and he usually has an exceptionally good (or politically interesting) reason if he misses seminars, and he has missed very few. He is informed, he is articulate, and he wants to learn. He has actively sought help from me with his analytical skills. And – and I’ve saved the best until last – he LOVES literature.

You might think this is a strange thing to say, when I earn my peanuts teaching literature students. But it seems to be becoming increasingly unusual to find an English Lit student who actually likes reading books.

The garret poet loves reading. He reads things that are not on the reading list, and he wants to talk about them. And he exudes an enthusiasm for literature and literary analysis, that sometimes leads him astray in his essays, but at least his essays are not in any way mechanical.

The tutor in me wants to nurture and train this enthusiasm into good academic criticism (hopefully without squashing the joy). My younger teenage self, who loved literature and was also fond of floppy-haired boys, is hopelessly in love with the garret poet.

So can I just say: if, after this confession and explanation, you still want to condemn me to the above mentioned academic purgatory of never-ending TA pay, please – pretty please – could it be teaching students like him.

Markers of folly.

From The French Lieutenant's Woman (chapter 34):

He did not like her when she was wilful; it contrasted too strongly with her elaborate clothes, all designed to show a total inadequacy outside the domestic interior. The thin end of the sensible clothes wedge had been inserted in society by the disgraceful Mrs Bloomer a decade and a half before the year of which I write; but that early attempt at the trouser suit had been comprehensively defeated by the crinoline - a small fact of considerable significance in our understanding of the Victorians. They were offered sense; and chose a six-foot folly unparalled in the most folly-ridden of minor arts.

Cakes

I was going to write a serious post about teaching women's writing and feminist theory. Perhaps that is to come - I'm still thinking it through.

In the meantime though, this is a frivolous post about cake.

I like cake. I'd go as far as to say I am a fan of cake. I was talking to someone the other day and he said chocolate cake is best. I think a well made Victoria Sponge could stand up to most chocolate cake, providing the cake-eater is not a chocoholic. Black-forest gateaux, however, is possibly the Queen of Cakes (any suggestions as to why I think cake is feminine?).

So, what is your favourite cake? And why?

Refreshed

I've have spent the weekend eating interesting, healthy, fresh, homecooked (but not by me), delicious, vegetarian food.

I have spent time sitting on a comfortable sofa in front of a wood-burning stove, and on a garden swing near a waterfall in the cool, fresh, winter air reading a book (which I have to read for work, but didn't feel like I was working).

I have gone to bed early and got up early, and spent most of the day wearing no shoes.

I have spent time with a close friend, whom I do not see as often as I would like.

I have spent hours practising yoga, meditating and doing pilates.

And I feel refreshed.

Professional dilemma

I marked all of my students' essays over Christmas. They were an OK batch - none dreadful, none brilliant, but most in the 'pretty good' to 'good' to 'very good' scheme of things. There are a lot of students, and quite a few tutors on the course, so we moderate the grades by swapping a few essays with another tutor, and today I have been looking at 4 marked by another teaching assistant. I find myself with a professional dilemma: some of her comments are, for want of a better word, 'incorrect'. On one essay, she has not corrected a series of factual errors and confusions, and in another the punctuation / grammatical corrections she has made are wrong (in the latter, the student's version was actually correct before she changed it).

Now, for the first essay, I think this is because the essay is on a topic which is outside the tutor's area of expertise (and inside mine, so I would speedily recognise the mistake). Although there is not much in the way of alternative on 'survey' courses, this is one of the disadvantages of having the same tutor teach all topics - there is always going to be something that might catch us out. I'm know that I don't know everything! So, for this essay, I'm not too worried. I don't see it as too much of a dilemma, because I can point this out as being something I might reasonably know that she doesn't. The only problem is that she has written 'good points!' next to some of these errors. Maybe that could be altered to say these would have been good points, if this were true?

But, what about the grammar / punctuation 'corrections'? I feel it is important that student errors in this area are highlighted and corrected. And with this in mind, I don't feel comfortable ignoring the incorrect corrections. But I'm also a bit uncomfortable telling a fellow teaching assistant (who is mid PhD in English, and should be able to construct sentences) that not only is their punctuation poor, but they have done this on one of their student's essays. In black biro. I don't hold a supervisory position over her. We are merely peer moderating. I know I shouldn't be correcting her grammar.

I don't know what to do...

New Year Activity

Well, this is my first post of 2009, so I guess the first thing to do is to say "Happy New Year!" to all readers of Falling Leaves. I hope this year brings you health and happiness, in whatever form that might take.

Today is also my birthday, so for me the beginning of January is not just the beginning of a new calendar year, but also a new year in my life. I'm not just making New Year's resolutions for 2009 because that's what people traditionally do at the beginning of the year, but because there are things that I would like to have done before my next birthday (it's a major one - you know, of the kind that end in 0) and I shall have to be organised if I'm going to do them.

So my New Year's resolution is to be more active this year. I don't just mean physically active, although that wouldn't go amiss. I mean active in a more general sense. Below is a list of what I intend to do. These are not my resolutions; they are the means to achieving my one resolution.

1) I will manage my time better.

2) I will do more research (to be honest, it will not be hard to do more of this than last year) - this will make me more research active, and I will be taking more positive action towards getting a permanent job.

3) I will arrange to meet up with my friends more often. This will stop me talking passively over the internet / text messages, and will help me not to spend my evenings inactively on facebook.

4) I will listen to more music. More can be accomplished when listening to CDs / radio than when watching television.

5) I will find a Yoga class so that I can be active and still at the same time. Yoga also makes me feel physically and mentally better, so I'm hoping that it will contribute to a more positive outlook to help me achieve other things. And adding more activities into my life-timetable will mean I have to be better at time management.

That brings me back to the beginning of the list. And it seems to be enough to be getting on with for now!

May 2009 bring all you wish for, and good luck in sticking to your own resolutions!