tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64040828871989954182024-03-08T13:25:24.451+00:00Falling LeavesAutumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-78525176342242788532012-08-01T13:44:00.000+01:002012-08-01T14:05:45.086+01:00How you play the game.<div style="text-align: center;">
Hurray for the GB Men's Gymnastics team with their Bronze medal, the GB equestrian eventing team and women's cyclist with their silver, and for the GB Women's Pairs Rowers with their Gold. </div>
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Shame on the badminton teams who did not give it their best go. And shame on the American Coach who suggested foul play because a young swimmer excelled herself, and knocked the American competitor into second place. </div>
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Shame on the Twitter user who tweeted vile messages to Tom Daley. </div>
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At high level sport, of course, the eyes of the world are upon the athletes, and you want your team to win big. Top athletes aspire to Gold medals. Gold is what everyone wants, but, not everyone can have it. <br />
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I am very, very pleased for Helen Glover and Heather Stanning (GB rowers) who earned a very well deserved Gold medal. But we should be equally proud of the achievements of those who won Silver and those who won Bronze. The media's lamenting the lack of Gold medals thus far seems to me to miss at least some of the point. To have made it into the Olympic finals at all is a stunning achievement.<br />
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I have no doubt that Tom Daley's father would be bursting with pride at the efforts and dedication of his son. (Vile Tweeter is surely alone in his thinking and his comments). Daly and Waterfield put in a tremendous performance in the synchronised diving events, and fourth place out of a <em>world</em> of competitors is not bad at all. And they can say they worked their hardest and did the best they could on the day, at the time. The Chinese, Indonseian and South Korean Badminton teams can't say the same. <br />
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There is, it seems, no evidence at this time to suggest that Ye Shiwen won her swimming Gold medals using unfair means. She has been drugs tested at least three times. It is unjust to detract from her achievement in the way that the American coach did - and, indeed, that various news commentators have implied ('Could she have found ways around the current testing?' 'Of course she could') without reasonable evidence. You can't cheer for Gold medal winners and then, when a young girl outdoes herself and all of the other competitors, say that, to be that good, she <em>must</em> be cheating. Perhaps she really is just that good?<br />
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A major part of the campaign to bring the Olympics to London was about creating a legacy. No one is quite clear what this means, but it seems, in part, to be about inspiring young people to participate in sport, and to aim high. Focus and dedication in a career - althetics or not - is a good aspiration.<br />
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We should, though, bear in mind - and make sure that others do too - that sport isn't all about the winning. Good sportsmanship is as important, whether it is being gracious in defeat, performing a more cautious routine to ensure points for the team rather than showing off, playing your best (whatever the outcome)congratulating others' achievements or just in acknowledging the effort. <br />
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It isn't whether you win or lose; it's how you play the game.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-14036933146610866762012-07-31T12:04:00.001+01:002012-07-31T12:04:31.810+01:00New and oldI got on the bus the other day and noticed a new ticket machine - its electronic display actually said 'Good Morning' on it. In other cities where I have lived, this might be used to make up for the grumpiness of the drivers, but in Naval City, the drivers seem to be quite friendly anyway, so I'm not convinced that a new, polite, ticket system is the most useful way to spend the company funds, but this is not really the point of the story.<br />
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'That's a shiny new ticket machine', I said, whilst I waited for the driver to sort out my weekly ticket. For this, the machine prints a ticket and then the driver puts it into a little card-and-sticky-backed-plastic wallet. The driver smiled and nodded as pulled one ticket wallet from a large group held by an elastic band. <br />
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His smile turned into a look of slight confusion as he discovered that the shape of ticket didn't quite fit the wallet, and then into concentration whilst he carefully folded the paper to make it fit and still show all of the relevant bits of information.<br />
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'Ticket is new' he said, with a slight accent (Eastern European?) and a knowing smile. 'Wallet is old'.<br />
<br />Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-72041367848748060592012-06-21T10:18:00.000+01:002012-06-21T10:18:57.946+01:00Reflections, 12 months on.I participated in a short-listing meeting yesterday for a part time post coming up at Naval City University. This is the first time I have witnessed, let alone been part of, this kind of thing, and, despite now being in an open-ended post, I found the whole process a painful experience. It was a reminder to me (as if I needed one!) of how many applications I sent before I got shortlisted for my job twelve months ago, and how lucky I am to have it. <br />
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So many highly qualified people (some much better qualified in terms of publications than I am) who could not be shortlisted because they didn't quite fit the detail of what the department was looking for, or because, whilst they had books /articles forthcoming, these were not yet in press whereas those shortlisted had items out already. Of course, this is quite right - the person hired has to 'fit the bill' in more ways than one, and research output matters, especially in the run up to REF.<br />
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The process has made me approach my research with renewed energy, if only to prove to myself that I deserve the job I have. I certainly didn't get it by any favouritism or favour (I didn't know anyone who worked here before I was offered the job, so I got it on the merits of my application and interview) but I still have to pinch myself sometimes when I remember the position I was in at this time last year - I'd almost given up hope of getting a salaried academic post, having not made it onto a shortlist for a job I had been doing for much less money for 3 years. <br />
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I am grateful that, somehow, I got on to the list of candidates for inteview for this job (it was this time last year I was on my way down to the interview) and that I managed to give a presentation and interview that convinced the School to employ me. It was the first permanent job for which I had been shortlisted, and I couldn't quite believe it when I was offered the job. (I think I actually said, "Really?" to the Head of School when he phoned me.) I must continue to work hard to make sure I don't let them down.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-668770719675613202012-06-20T20:02:00.000+01:002012-06-21T09:25:44.759+01:00Beautiful Beliefs (5)I believe that...<br />
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It is easy to take hard working people for granted, but we shouldn’t! </div>
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My colleagues and I were obliged to attend a staff development event this week in order to prepare us for the challenges of the next academic year. In its wisdom, the university has decided that 2012-13 is the year to introduce a radical overhaul of the academic structure and curriculum, despite the upheaval and uncertainty coming our way as a result of the government’s raising of tuition fees for students. For those who are not aware of this, the amount a degree costs is not changing; what is changing is the proportion of that cost borne by the student themselves instead of government funding. Many students will not appreciate this subtle difference and will insist on ‘more for their money’ since they are paying more. This staff development event was to alert us to the changes coming and to tell us about other university developments alongside changes brought about by the new curriculum.<br />
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It was not a successful day from the perspective of most academic staff. We were told things we already knew, and we were not given the opportunity to ask questions regarding what we did not or to comment on management plans. It did little to raise staff morale after what has been a very difficult transitional year. I am new to the department this year, and the strain of the new curriculum is already taking a toll. I imagine that my colleagues who have been dealing with this for much longer than I have must feel terribly ground down. <br />
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Faculty management, throughout the day, told us that in the future we must listen to the students, ask for their feedback, respond to their feedback, help them set goals for the future, and – importantly – make sure they know that we care. What was shockingly poor about this address was that it implied that we were not already doing those things; that up to this point, we have not cared about our students, their degree or their circumstances. At no point did anyone say, ‘You’ve all done a great job this year. Keep it up!’. <br />
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No one came away from the day feeling motivated, appreciated or looking forward to the future or any more prepared than they were before this compulsory event. Many of my colleagues are looking for jobs elsewhere. But they wouldn’t be if they felt that they were heard, appreciated, supported in their academic endeavours. They (we) work very hard for the students, and to keep up with research despite a struggle for institutional support. A ‘well done’ or ‘keep it up’ or ‘thank you for all your efforts’ would have gone a very long way. <br />
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This is not a post to big up my own efforts though, and ‘hard working’ doesn’t only apply to academics! I miss the friendly and brilliant admin support that we had at my previous institution, and realise that whilst I never took this support entirely for granted, I didn't fully appreciate how much the undergrad secretaries did for tutors above and beyond what happens elsewhere. Here at Naval City University, the cleaners come into our offices to empty the bins and vacuum the floor. I appreciate that I no longer have to empty my own bin (office dustbins were neither supplied nor empied at the University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison) and that at least once a week my carpet is fluff-free.<br />
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However small or large the task, acknowledging others' efforts can make a big difference. Say thank you to your mum or dad or other loved ones (thank you to the Physio for making me dinner!); to the administrator, the cleaner, the bus driver, the waiter, the nurse, teacher, cashier, librarian, etc., etc., etc. <br />
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Most people who deserve acknowledgement do not go out of their way to seek it - they just get on with their tasks. That does not mean they shouldn’t get it.<br />
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This post is connected to Amy's <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/write-with-me/">Beautiful Belief's</a> project.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-25322254707869698922012-06-13T20:15:00.002+01:002012-06-13T20:15:54.032+01:00Beautiful Beliefs (4)I believe that...<br />
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We are all in too much of a hurry.</div>
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I have thought this for some time, but I am reminded of it often at the pelican crossings near where I work. There are 11 of them covering 3 major junctions. To me, this suggests that walking into the road when the red man is showing means imminent danger of death, so I wait for the green man. Sometimes the road is clear – but it’s a very busy road and won’t stay that way for long. Others, however, arrive at the road, give a quick look to see if there is any traffic on its way, and then walk or run across, looking at me as if I'm mad for just standing there. Sometimes, the distance between them and the oncoming traffic is so small that I, safe on the pavement, am frightened of the potential accident. And I wonder to myself if what they are hurrying towards is worth that risk, to themselves or to the drivers. I suspect, for most of them, it is not. It is just that they do not want to stand at the side of the road for the 2 minutes it will take for the lights to change and the green man to appear. Why and how have we, collectively, lost the ability to just stand still and wait? <br />
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I notice this at bus stops too. No amount of looking at your watch or complaining will make the bus that is not-yet-but-might-be-late arrive any sooner. I understand the complaints when the bus is very late, or it is very cold, or someone has an important appointment to make and needs it to be on time (get an earlier bus?), but the lack of patience – the difficulties some people encounter in just waiting – puzzles me. <br />
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I like to watch the dogs playing in the park over the road. Or watch the clouds moving in the sky. Or just move my weight from one foot to the other (maybe other people waiting for the bus think I’m crazy and are in a hurry to get away?) whilst I listen to whatever soundtrack I have playing in my head that day. <br />
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Last week <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/">Amy</a> wrote about her experience in yoga practice; about the stillness and peace of <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/2012/06/beautiful-beliefs-5-i-believe-that/">savasana</a>. I enjoy this pose too, and all of the other yoga poses that, whilst stretching muscles I’d forgotten about, allow me to be still within my body and within my mind (the latter sometimes takes some effort), not hurrying anywhere, physically or mentally. <br />
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Stillness is under-rated. Why the hurry?<br />
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This post is related to Amy's <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/category/beautiful-beliefs/">Beautiful Beliefs</a> writing circle.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-25928310004549940532012-05-30T15:54:00.003+01:002012-05-31T08:46:47.802+01:00Beautiful Beliefs (3)I believe that...<br />
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beauty magazines promote low self esteem.</div>
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OK, those are not really my words; I've borrowed them from Savage Garden's song, 'Affirmation', but that doesn't meant I don't believe them to be true. </div>
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This morning, on the radio, I heard <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-18260133">the news</a> that a committee of MPs has proposed compulsory body image and self-esteem lessons in schools, in order to combat the poor self esteem and body image of youngsters. I find this proposal completely bizarre, for two reasons:</div>
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1. It does not really address the <em>reasons</em> <em>why</em> young people have poor self-esteem.</div>
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2. Encouraging self-esteem and a positive body image should not be confined to one lesson a week in school. It should be something that is integrated into their everyday life, naturally.</div>
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I am very lucky. I have a pretty balanced view of my body (could tone up a bit, perhaps cut down a little on the cakes... but otherwise, pretty good). Sometimes I look in the mirror and think 'Not as slim as you used to be...', but then, does that really matter? All is in proportion, and I am far from overweight, health-wise. </div>
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Some of this balance, I am sure, is down to a loving and supportive family throughout my childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, and to a boyfriend who freely offers compliments on my shape - and on days when I've noted to myself that my bum is bigger than it used to be, this is a good boost. </div>
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But I believe some of this balance is due to the fact that I do not aspire to be celebrity- / model-thin, but then I don't think I've ever really aspired to be a celebrity or a model.* For me, success is not purely related to what I look like (and I'm grateful to my family and to my school for fostering this belief). Raising the aspirations of girls and young women beyond 'being like Victoria Beckham and Cheryl Cole' is a connected, but different, problem that also needs to be addressed in our celebrity-obsessed culture. Celebrity women are often held to be the perfect shape. Most of them, to me, are alarmingly and unhealthily thin. </div>
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When gossip magazines catch celebrities looking <em>human -</em> sweating, without make-up, with zits, or otherwise not camera-ready, they draw attention to such 'flaws' and, rather than saying 'Hurrah! These women are really like us', they say something that amounts to, 'Look at <em>Celebrity X</em> - she needs to work harder at her appearance'. This does not promote a healthy relationship with real bodies. It's a form of bullying at a distance.</div>
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More than this, though, as adults we know that celebrity, girlie and fashion magazines have images that are heavily doctored / airbrushed. Not even the models and celebrities can live up to the unrealistic expectations that such images raise, and it is this that we really need to explain to children and adolescents (and to some adults!). </div>
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(* I think I once wanted a very slim waist because Victorian ladies used to have them, but then I realised they were artificially created through corsets too...)</div>
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We also, I think, need to be much more careful about the way in which the media presents the 'obesity crisis' in the country. Curvy does not have to mean fat. Healthy eating and exercise - yes; diet until you are unnaturally skinny - no. </div>
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I remember seeing an <a href="http://www.channel4.com/programmes/jo-frost-extreme-parental-guidance/articles/exclusive-jos-viewpoint-bronwyn">episode of Supernanny</a> that dealt with a pre-teen who thought she had to match up to magazine images to be pretty. Not true. But this must be a belief that so many young people have because of celebrity culture - and I don't think this is only a problem for girls. Boys are increasingly under a similar sort of pressure.</div>
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The report from MPs notes the media's unrealistic body images as a cause of the problem, but does not seem to suggest a way to tackle it beyond 'get schools to do something'. That isn't enough.</div>
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Of course, building confidence through encouraging children to like who they are and what they look like is important, but this could - and should - be done consistently at home and at school through praise, encouragement and an absolute crack-down on bullying of any kind. Encouragement towards, and praise for, academic, sporting or other achievements, along with education on eating healthily and taking balanced exercise, could go a long way towards combating poor body image and self-esteem problems in children / adolescents. But, tackling poor body image in young people cannot be done without addressing the causes of it, and the magazine industry and celebrity culture are some of these causes. </div>
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A legally enforceble ban on airbrushing could, I think, be more effective than compulsory school lessons in self-esteem. <br />
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<em>This post is connected to Amy Palko's <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/2012/05/beautiful-beliefs/">Beautiful Beliefs</a> writing circle.</em></div>Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-68405566750887114902012-05-23T14:20:00.001+01:002012-05-23T14:23:57.235+01:00Beautiful Beliefs (2)I believe that...<br />
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We can be our own worst enemies. </div>
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Some time ago I wrote <a href="http://autumnitas.blogspot.co.uk/2009/02/confession.html">this post</a> in relation to a student I was teaching in his first year. His enthusiasm and interest remained throughout his time at university, but he suffered from crippling anxiety when it came to assessments. He was given extensions to different deadlines because his anxiety about it not being good enough was so bad that it prevented him from finishing and submitting his work. He got through to the final year, and could not sit his exams or submit his dissertation. I was not supervising him, but have absolutely no doubt that it would have been an excellent piece of work. He was given the opportunity to defer these assessments. He contacted me after I’d left the University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison to ask if he could come to talk to me about one of the units as the exam came around again. I had to reply to tell him I was no longer in the city, but was sure one of the other early modernists would help him. I heard no more from him.<br />
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I have been away from this blog for a long time – half-scribbling posts that never got written – so when I came back I read over some of my older posts to remind me what I used to do, and came across that post about him. I emailed my friend, Very Efficient Undergrad Secretary, to ask how he was doing and if he had managed to submit his dissertation this year. She told me that he had decided to withdraw from university at Easter, before any of the assessments took place.<br />
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I was genuinely saddened by this news. He had so much potential as a Lit student, and I know he could have finished with a good 2.1 degree, if not a first class one. He was certainly intellectually capable of it. But his lack of self-belief meant that he left the university with no degree at all. <br />
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This sort of anxiety – that we are not good enough – is something that most of us suffer from at some point. I have talked about it before in relation to my <a href="http://autumnitas.blogspot.co.uk/2010/03/seeing-differently-2-confidence-and.html">teaching and marking</a> and in relation to judging ourselves by <a href="http://autumnitas.blogspot.co.uk/2009/12/seeing-differently-1-making-your-own.html">others’ progress</a>. I think the reason my PhD thesis was submitted at the last minute (literally – a friend had her car engine running to get me to student registry on time from across campus) was because I was reluctant to let it go, to send it out for examination and judgement because it might not be good enough. I am now struggling to turn that thesis into a monograph, not because it was found wanting at my VIVA (it was not), or just because I struggle to find the time (though I do) but because I am, underneath, anxious that it will not be good enough. A journal rejected a chapter of it as an article; will the peer reviewers of my book reject the whole thing?<br />
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I have a book contract with a reputable publisher, so the idea has already been deemed publishable, but I procrastinate and delay and try to hunt out any other text I could possibly look at to make sure there is nothing obviously missing from my work. <br />
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I will just <em>have</em> to get it done and send it off to them very soon, or I will miss the REF deadline and my new employer, who took a chance on my potential to publish and gave me a job, will not be pleased. But this anxiety I feel at letting them down, although I feel it, is not as strong as the anxiety I feel about sending my work out into the realms of academic criticism. So I delay, and the deadline gets closer and I know I will have to send off work I am not entirely happy with when I run out of time. I tell myself I work better under pressure, but really this is because I can no longer put it off.<br />
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I thought that if he had had the right kind of support and encouragement, that anxious student might have got all of his work submitted. I don’t know what sort of support he received beyond the deferral, but I am starting to think that whatever it was it wouldn’t have been enough. I think he’d rather withdraw than risk not meeting expectations (though <em>whose</em> expectations, I am not sure). <br />
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It’s tempting, isn’t it, to avoid putting our work ‘out there’. I could do that with this book, but it would be such a waste of my time, effort and energy to prevent myself from going forward because of this anxiety.<br />
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There can be many obstacles to overcome in the ‘world outside’. Let’s try hard not to be our own worst enemies.<br />
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This is post is connected to <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/">Amy Palko's</a> <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/2012/05/beautiful-beliefs/">Beautiful Beliefs</a> writing circle.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-15913492075994385712012-05-22T10:15:00.000+01:002012-05-22T10:15:26.746+01:00Musings on marking'It's strange,' said the Physio, 'because the rest of the time you are such a nice, kind person. But when you are marking, you just won't give your students the benefit of the doubt'. <br />
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I suppose this is true. Although if I'm inclined towards a mark of 59% and there’s half a possibility it could become a 60%, then I’ll give 60%. (This would move the students up from 2.2 into the 2.1 bracket). I did this with a dissertation last week. In fact, I had to argue the second marker up to 60%. But with my current first year students, who are struggling to get out of the 40s, no, I'm not inclined to magic them up to 50%. For some of them, I struggle to give a passing mark of 40%. And, unlike some other institutions, there is no pressure at Naval City University to pass a failing student. If they fail, then it's unfortunate, but they do fail.<br />
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I want them to do well. And I am fully prepared to go out of my way to help them, if they seek help. I have written in to the unit I am co-ordinating this semester three seminars on approaching different parts of the exam so that when they are finally assessed, they have already had some formative feedback (the unit mark is based wholly on one examination – this would not have been my choice of assessment, but I inherited the unit). So, offer help, I will. But I don’t think that giving students good marks for poor work will help them. I actually think that picking them up on poor spelling, grammar, punctuation and paragraphing, and on woolly thinking and sloppy argument, whilst they are in the first year and their marks don't count, is the kindest thing I can do. They might then learn from their mistakes in time to put them right before the marks really do start to count. I think they have been allowed to 'get away with' such errors for too long at school, and in allowing this, their schools (and the exam boards at GCSE and A level) have let them down very badly. I don't intend to let them down in this way, if I can help it.<br />
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Naval City University gives students a compulsory unit in Study Skills for University in which we teach them how to approach writing essays, but it is a unit some students do not take seriously. They think they already know how to do it because they got a B for A level (in some cases an A!). Many of those students didn't pass the unit.<br />
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I don't expect students to be thinking and writing at first class university level when they first arrive – those are skills they develop throughout their three years at university – but they should be able to write coherent sentences. The students whose essays I fail can't do this. They really struggle to express themselves. And now they are being marked on the 'whole piece of work' – <em>what</em> and <em>how</em> they write – rather than what I think they ought to be trying to say, their marks have fallen substantially, and many of them really struggle to understand why.<br />
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On one level, it might be considered kind of me to massage their marks so they don’t fail. But I think this sort of 'kindness' is why so many of them are genuinely surprised – and distressed – by their low marks. If they get good marks for poor work, they won't try to improve it. I'm sure that they are bright young people, but they need to learn how to express their ideas coherently, not just in order to get a 2.1 degree, but so that after university they can make themselves clearly understood, present a coherent argument at business meetings, or – if they go into teaching – teach children how to write well to avoid perpetuating this cycle. <br />
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Giving a fair, but sometimes low, mark for their work and giving feedback explaining how to do it better is the only way to encourage improvement. University is about more than just producing the 'right answer' to get the top marks, and I think I would be failing in my job if I don't at least try to help them to think, and express themselves, more clearly. <br />Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-27265748801615521812012-05-16T14:48:00.000+01:002012-05-16T14:48:56.379+01:00Beautiful Beliefs (1)<a href="http://www.amypalko.com/">Amy Palko</a> has started a group writing project called <a href="http://www.amypalko.com/2012/05/beautiful-beliefs/">Beautiful Beliefs</a>, in which she offers a post every Wednesday that begins with ‘I believe that...’ and invites others to write posts about their beliefs and share through her site.<br />
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So, here goes:<br />
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I believe that....<br />
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Sharing what we believe can be difficult. I am, now, tentative about writing this post and offering it to the web for others to see, read and comment on. This is not because I don’t have firmly held beliefs, or that I feel that my beliefs are objectionable or offensive, but because I don’t <em>expect</em> other people to share them. I am vegetarian because I believe that cows and pigs are no different from dogs, cats, rabbits, and since we don’t have to eat meat to survive, killing animals for food (or to breed them in poor conditions in order to keep stocks high) is unnecessary. But, I don’t think that everyone else should have to be vegetarian if they do not share my belief. I don’t like getting into debates over vegetarianism, not because I believe I am wrong, but because I don’t believe that I can or <em>should</em> tell my omnivore friends what they ought to have in their diet. I don’t feel a need to convert them to my point of view. <br />
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This is why I find sharing these sorts of beliefs difficult. My beliefs are not theirs, and theirs are not mine. <br />
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I believe in God, but I am not out to convert atheists, agnostics, or convince those of other religions that my God is the one and only. Maybe He isn’t. Maybe in other religions He is called something else, or has many faces / incarnations. I do not mean here to exclude those with spirituality outside of religion, either. I believe that belief - faith - like this is personal, not corporate or competitive, and that we should allow each other to go on in own our faith/beliefs, as long as these do not hurt other people. <br />
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I wish people would not challenge me on my beliefs, not because they are shaky, but because it requires me to respond in kind – to challenge theirs in an attempt to persuade them to my way of thinking. <br />
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There are, of course, exceptions to this sort of relativism (practices which cause any sort of pain to other people, for example) but for the most part, I believe that openness and acceptance of difference would make the world a happier place.<br />
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Amy’s writing circle invites us to share our beliefs and to connect, leave comments, and lend support to each other in what makes us ourselves. I think this is a wonderful idea. A place to share beliefs without pressing them or overtly challenging others - to discuss without judgment. I love and respect Amy’s warmth and openness and will try, every week, to share a bit of what I believe.<br />
<br />Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-24894250179774351362012-05-16T11:59:00.000+01:002012-05-16T12:00:28.969+01:00Recurring DreamsI have a recurring dream. It is not always exactly the same setting, or exactly the same ending to the narrative, but there have now been 3 variations on the theme: I'm pregnant, but I don't have the baby. (Family and friends, this is <em>not</em> a disguised announcement; those who don't know me, I don't have any children.)<br />
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In the first one, I was very heavily pregnant and there were lots of people - friends, family, people I don't know - gathered in a room. I don't remember why. They were all talking to me and very excited about the imminent arrival of the baby, though. I walked into a different room (it became a chapel) and went into labour. I went to the hospital, but there was no baby. Apparently, there had never been one. I just sort of physically 'deflated'. I was very confused; I was absolutely sure there had been. I had felt its weight. I went back to the gathering. Everyone was very disappointed, and many of them thought I'd lied to them - made it up - and now they didn't want anything to do with me.<br />
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The second one I don't remember quite so clearly. I remember that I was pregnant and went into labour and then everything just stopped. It didn't disappear, like the first one, but I didn't get any further in having it. I just went home, still pregnant.<br />
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In the third one - last night's dream - again, I was heavily pregnant. I thought I had gone into labour. I went to a hospital, got to a nurses' station and then it stopped. A false alarm. 'These things happen', said the nurse, and away we went. Then we (a group of friends, though not all people I know in my waking life) seemed to be on holiday, and we went to eat in the breakfast room of the Bed and Breakfast. It was upstairs on a sort of mezzane level, but the decoration was like a country cottage kitchen. There were only chairs around one (longer) side of a fairly large oval table. There was one empty seat and too many of us, so I said someone else could have the seat instead of me. I said I wasn't very comfortable sitting anyway, and I wandered around a for a while, snacking. I set off down the stairs again and went into labour - not a false alarm this time. No attempt to get to a hospital, and there was no doubt that there actually was a baby, but despite my best efforts and the support of a friend, I couldn't push it out. I kept trying and trying, and the effort was exhausting and painful (I was watching myself shaking with the effort, and could see my face reddening) but it wasn't going to leave my body. <br />
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I think I must have left the dream then, because I can't remember any more beyond that, but I'm not surprised I was extremely tired when the Physio brought me a cup of tea to wake me up this morning.<br />
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Whilst there is the possibility that these dreams might in some way be related to a desire to have children at some point, I doubt that the surface story is the real meaning of what my subconscious is trying to sort out. Possibly something to do with delivering on a project or fulfilling potential, but my subconscious is worried that I can't do it. Maybe I am too. I wish I knew exactly what <em>it</em> is, though...Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-88392789751131883832011-12-24T07:54:00.003+00:002011-12-24T08:43:46.874+00:00Irresponsible TV.Bullying does not make good TV.<br /><br />This might seem like an obvious statement, but it was provoked by a programme I watched yesterday evening. I usually enjoy <em>8 out of 10 Cats</em>; the panellists are witty and play off each other very well. There is sometimes a certain amount of good natured banter, but no real harm is meant. For last night's festive edition, the panellists were Sean Lock, Micky Flanagan, Jon Richardson, Greg Davies, Liza Tarbuck and Jedward. Very little of the show was funny. I was disappointed.<br /><br />I don't like Jedward, for several reasons. I don't think they are particularly talented as singers, dancers or performers in general. (I also don't like that as twins they present themselves as one entity, even conflating their names, but that's a separate issue.). I also don't like the 'celebrity' culture they represent: they are, actually, famous for their lack of talent, promoted by the UK X factor show. They are young, and have been thrust into the spotlight with managers/agents who get their faces on anything and everything they can. X factor expoited them for viewing figures - not to listen in awe to their vocal brilliance, but to see what new crazy thing they would do - and they continue to develop their own particular 'brand' in this way. It might be good for their publicity, but I doubt it is good for the boys themselves. Last night's programme was a good example of this.<br /><br />Most of the programme consisted of the other panellists (and the host, Jimmy Carr) joking amongst themselves about how terrible and how stupid Jedward are. There was a lot of name calling, and a lot of highlighting their 'faults'. And the boys just kept pushing through. They kept trying to join in in answering the questions, but each time they were made to look extremely foolish at best.<br /><br />I don't think they did themselves any favours on this front. And I don't think that their managers / agents / parents are doing them any favours either in encouraging them to keep doing these things. There is a limit to how long they will be able to continue presenting themselves in the way that they do, and they will also struggle to create careers for themselves when the 'Jedward' bubble bursts - which it will, sooner or later.<br /><br />But, the 'grown ups' on <em>8 out of 10 Cats </em>(their term, not mine) did not come across any better in their dealings with the boys. The funniest moments were those of quick wit, mostly directed at other targets than Jedward. There is nothing quick witted about verbally bashing or humiliating an easy target. And the boys themselves, although they kept smiling through, looked at times like they were genuinely hurt by some of the comments. There was nothing funny about grown men (I'm excluding Liza Tarbuck, because she actually said very little, and would add that Jon Richardson behaved better than the others) <em>bullying</em> teenage boys.<br /><br />Jedward were well out of their depth. They knew it. The host and other panellists knew it. And I knew it. And it made for very uncomfortable viewing. . <br /><div></div><br />The TV programme that created 'Jedward' was irresponsible to do so. They are not well equipped for the world that either loves or loathes them, and whilst they are 'good sports', there is a limit to what they ought to be expected to take in the name of publicity.<br /><br />Presenting this as a Christmas comedy programme gives out the wrong message. It suggests that bullying is witty, or funny. It isn't. If those sorts of comments were made in a different forum we would all agree it was bullying and wrong. But because it was a comedy show - and because Jedward are Jedward - such behaviour is allowed to pass by uncriticised. It shouldn't be.<br /><br />Such blatant bullying on TV is not funny. It is cruel and it is irresponsible. And it should be far beneath the witty comedians who made two teenage boys their target as part of festive fun.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-90976518762207721202011-11-25T19:53:00.002+00:002011-11-25T19:58:23.595+00:00Hello Again!Hello again!<br />It's been a long time since I've been here, and so much has happened. I won't write it all down here today but intend to post more regularly from now on, so maybe we could catch up as I go along... I've started writing many posts since the last one, but never quite finished them. Some are just on pieces of paper tucked into the books that inspired them, and some are now so far out of date that I might as well start again as try to adapt them.<br />I'll be back soon.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-82826888715759343332010-06-22T16:59:00.002+01:002010-06-22T17:18:28.182+01:00Clearing OutOK. I admit it. I have been somewhat lax in 'putting things away' for some time now. I have frequently explained this by saying that the flat is small and is therefore untidy because I have no where to put things, but, in my recent attempts to make space I have discovered that much of my previously 'necessary' clutter is rubbish. Magazines I have failed to throw away. Smaller bits and pieces that I kept at the time 'just in case' and can't now remember what they relate to. <br /><br />I'm making some progress clearing out. Slowly but surely surfaces are reappearing in my flat. I intend to keep it that way, but we'll see. Habits that have developed over the last couple of years living by myself might be difficult to break. But, I do have more motivation now the Physio has come to stay with me for the summer. I am more aware of the clutter now that someone else sees it every day than when I was living by myself. I really do think that when your mess affects only you, it is much harder to remember to be tidy than when your mess affects other people. Added to this, the Physio is a <em><strong>very</strong></em> tidy person, and I know that the state of my flat bugs him, even though he doesn't say anything. So, I intend to <strong>make the effort</strong>. I used to be a tidy person. I can do it again.<br /><br />Besides, I actually <em>like</em> living in a clean and tidy space.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-27610126281030709312010-06-15T18:06:00.003+01:002010-06-15T18:20:40.689+01:00Making (some) progressWell, the conference paper on 'new stuff' went reasonably well, although there was very little discussion of my paper after the panel. I suppose if the audience had felt strongly that my reading should be challenged they would have done so, either during questions or afterwards, so I'm taking this as positive. Perhaps the audience were all just tired though.<br /><br />I ran out of time to write some more 'new stuff' for my second conference in May, but managed to find a section on my thesis to present instead, without looking too much like I'd shoe-horned it in. That conference was an extremely interesting day on one topic, with plenty of time for discussion, and I enjoyed very much being back in the Beautiful Scottish City that I Miss.<br /><br />Now my plans are to turn the first paper into an article, reasonably quickly. I wanted to carry on with it immediately after the conference, but with exam papers to mark, a further paper to produce and then twelve 4000-word projects to mark, I've sort of lost the momentum. But, my co-organisers have managed to find an avenue for publication of the conference papers as a special edition of a journal, and I'm excited about producing something to publish. Hopefully my writing nerves won't impede me too much. <br /><br />I might revisit the section taken from my thesis for the second paper to produce an article too, but I might just leave that one in order to develop it when I turn my thesis into a book (book proposal part 2 of summer plan). I also have an article I've been sitting on for nearly twelve months that needs some referencing amendments and that's article no.2 or 3.<br /><br />So, I feel I'm making progress. Not a lot, but some. And that is better than no progress at all.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-38533161465744204032010-05-10T16:14:00.005+01:002010-05-10T16:31:54.018+01:00Getting back out there...I am having a major crisis of confidence over a conference paper I am writing.<br /><br />It's the first piece of <em>new</em> research writing I have done since I submitted my thesis a LONG time ago. My last conference paper was taken from my thesis, so I knew before I went to the conference that <em>that</em> reading of that play has already been 'approved' in a variety of ways. This is new. This is mine. And I haven't had a supervisor read it, or an examiner tell me it's good enough to pass.<br /><br />I think my paper will be one of the last on the day, and I'm concerned that, after everyone else's, mine will look very thin. There are so many other things I would like to do to it / add to it, but there just isn't space in a 20 minute paper. I'm also worried that I have fallen into 'lecture writing' mode, since lectures are the only things I have researched and written in the last 2-3 years. I work hard on my lectures, to produce informative and critically engaged / engaging material for the students, but I also think that this is a different discipline from research related writing. <br /><br />I made a deliberate decision to produce something new for this conference, to boost my research self-esteem (when you've produced nothing other than lectures for a few years, you start to wonder if you'll ever be able to get back into it). But at the moment I feel more academically (and professionally) vulnerable than I have felt in a very long time. <br /><br />I suppose the only real way to overcome this is to expose my paper to the questions and criticisms of the conference delegates and see what happens.<br /><br />But I admit, I'm a more than a little bit scared.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-81622980942411512772010-05-05T18:53:00.004+01:002010-05-10T16:14:12.808+01:00Election timeI know this is going to be the tightest run election in a long time, and the resulting government structure is somewhat uncertain, but in some ways, I have to say, I am bored with it.<br /><br />I am bored of not being told exactly what each party's policies are, and I believe this is because being told exactly what they plan for us would make them less 'electable' / popular. This is not a high popularity contest; this is an election to government.<br /><br />I am bored of getting SO many leaflets from Political Parties in the mail that all tell me why I should <em>not</em> vote for 'the other guy' but not telling me why specifically I ought to vote for the leaflet sender ('because the other guy would be really rubbish' is not an answer).<br /><br />I am bored of answering my door buzzer to find that it is someone who wants me to give them access to the building so they can leave yet more unhelpful leaflets in my mailbox.<br /><br />I am bored of being treated like I am stupid; like I don't know that I'm not being told true facts. My least favourite tactic assumes that I will be swayed to vote a particular way by a leaflet full of photos of famous people who think I should. I may be a fan of many of these celebrities, but as I said before, this is not a popularity contest; the support of famous people does not necessarily make your policies the best ones.<br /><br />I will go to vote tomorrow, and I hope I make a sensible choice. But I suspect, if I do, this will be inspite of, not because of, the information I have been given.<br /><br /><br />Edited to add: since the result gave us a hung parliament, I'm finding it a little more interesting!Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-42071672023113127882010-03-23T18:06:00.002+00:002010-03-23T18:18:22.671+00:00Seeing differently 2: confidence and criticismI know I said in my previous ‘seeing differently’ post that we shouldn’t judge by each other’s standards, but in this post I’m going to suggest that we take into account what others think we are capable of (only if it’s positive!). We are often so much more ‘down’ on ourselves than we should be.<br /><br />We all have insecurities about our abilities. I’m just going to take one, teaching related example from this academic year. For the first term, I taught two theory classes. One group is very friendly, interested, relaxed and open to new ideas. In the other, I had two or three students who spent the whole class looking sullen, responding to my questions with a certain amount of diffidence, and in general looking at me like I didn’t know what I was doing, either as a tutor or in relation to the theoretical concepts I was teaching. I admit, I am not at my most confident teaching some theories (Lacanian psychoanalysis on the mirror stage is one of them) but I know I am a good tutor. I have student feedback forms that say this. I have peer reviews that say this. I have several years of experience, and have learned some useful techniques for running seminars, and also, for teaching theory. But three sulky students managed to bring out the underlying theory-related securities that I have. Half way through the year, a colleague whose specialism is in philosophy and literary theory returned from sabbatical and took over teaching the group with the sullen students. (I have since learned that these students behave the same way in his classes as mine, suggesting it was not my teaching that was their problem). <br /><br />Since I was teaching them at the time they handed in their essays, I had to mark them. These essays allow students the freedom to do a theoretically-informed analysis of any text they wish, and this makes the assignments difficult to mark. I also am not involved in setting the questions for this team taught course, and I think most people would agree it is easier to mark questions that you have set. However, I marked the essays and then passed them over to Theory Confident Colleague. I worried that he would look at them and think my marking was terrible, and my knowledge and application of theory was poor. I found myself avoiding him, in case he challenged me on this. He has never given me any reason to think that he thinks I am not competent, but because I know this is his specialism, and because I am not 100% convinced of my abilities in this area, I project my insecurities onto him, and turn it into his potential judgement of me.<br /><br />I have marked theory essays and projects before and my marks matched up with the moderator’s mark. Other colleagues think I am a good tutor; I have been peer reviewed in theory classes with positive comments. I don’t say this to blow my own trumpet. I say this to emphasise that I, and I think we, are more inclined to listen to - or indeed invent - negative criticism that is in tune with our own insecurities than we are to take on board the positive things people say.<br /><br />But we need to start taking on board positive criticism too. The reason colleagues say nice things about my teaching / lectures / marking /research (cross out until you get the one that applies to you) is because I have done something else – or this before – that gives them the impression that I can do it. Why don’t I believe them enough to be confident? I need to start seeing myself, my work, my abilities differently.<br /><br />I was going to write this post some time ago, but one of my Shakespeare students questioned her grade and complained not to me, but to a senior colleague, who, as course convenor, then asked to moderate my marking. Because I had come out from under a mountain of 130 essays, and several of my students had got lower grades than I would have expected of them based on seminar performance, I assumed that it was my marking rather than the student’s complaint that was in the wrong, and lost the confidence I had found to write this.<br /><br />My senior colleague agreed my grades, and the student will have to work harder in her exam revision to raise her final grade. But the fact I so nearly didn’t write this is testament to the fact that I needed to write it. I’m not saying we ought not to take on board comments that may be critical of our practices; everyone has things to learn. But we shouldn’t focus exclusively on the negative, or project our insecurities onto colleagues’ possible opinions. If your colleagues tell you that you are good at something, believe them!Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-30370249847509632162010-01-18T23:04:00.002+00:002010-01-18T23:13:13.789+00:00Walking through the mistAs I left the University this evening, a fairly heavy mist was hanging in the air. <br /><br />I know from friends and family who drive that this sort of weather is not good for driving, but for me walking to the bus, and then home from the bus stop, it isn't really a problem. In some ways I quite like it. It's atmospheric. Literary. It feels a little like walking through the pages of a Victorian novel.<br /><br />But on the other hand, it also feels a little like walking round when I'm not wearing my glasses.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-52511348622594249062009-12-17T22:08:00.002+00:002009-12-17T22:12:24.605+00:00Seeing differently 1: making your own wayAs 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.<br /><br />This one began as an email to a friend responding to his Facebook status update on feeling ‘behind’ in comparison to his colleagues.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-70702867489583789472009-12-05T16:27:00.004+00:002009-12-05T16:50:33.838+00:00Building 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.<br /><br />I mind in October, when I can't find a birthday card in the shops for Christmas cards in the way.<br />I mind when adverts for Christmas presents take over my TV.<br />I mind when a major department store has its 'Christmas sale' at the beginning of November.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />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 <em>peace and goodwill</em> 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. <br /><br />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!Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-11183921904198810892009-11-27T11:27:00.002+00:002009-11-27T11:30:19.628+00:00PhewHaving 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.<br /><br />Payment. Finally.<br /><br />I'm relieved.<br /><br />I don't like using my cross voice....Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-25730961028787660432009-11-24T22:51:00.004+00:002009-11-25T08:17:18.080+00:00Waiting for the busI 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...".<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Waiting for buses makes people very selfish.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />So I revise: Waiting for the bus makes <em>some</em> people very selfish.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-71145187309541895142009-11-11T20:12:00.003+00:002009-11-11T21:28:23.818+00:00Essay questionsMy 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 <em>change</em> the questions as I have had this year on this course.<br /><br />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 <em>easier</em>. 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 <em>meant</em> 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. <br /><br />And I truly don't believe I would be doing my students any favours if I did.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-71905260760801379612009-10-29T16:25:00.003+00:002009-10-29T16:42:07.890+00:00Matters of UrgencyDear Dept. Administrator,<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404082887198995418.post-83403380560923671502009-10-02T22:08:00.005+01:002009-10-03T18:25:22.212+01:00AutumnI like autumn.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <em>MY</em> FAULT). Apparently autumn is not so much fun when the leaves take you by surprise.Autumn Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11934910949576242391noreply@blogger.com0