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Thursday, 18 June 2009
Monday, 8 June 2009
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?
"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?
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
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?
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?
Saturday, 2 May 2009
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.
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.
Friday, 1 May 2009
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...
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...
Sunday, 19 April 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
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.
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.
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