Fame and Fortune; At Last They Come Home Where They Belong

In Wednesday's geology lab, we participated in a minerals/rock-identification exercise that was really a review of the previous geology course I took last fall. It was great fun, and a good reminder of why I'm so interested in geology.

So at the end of the lab, my lab partner and I were attempting to identify "unknown rock C," along with about 7 other students. Clustered around the table at the front of the room, we debated what minerals were present in the rock, whether it was more mafic or felsic, intrusive or extrusive, and attempted to locate the rock on a chart that would help us identify it.

"Andesite," I said. "I think it's andesite."

My colleagues gathered around differed, each offering a different hypothesis as to the identity of the unknown. Eventually the TA -- noticing our debate -- came over to walk us through the identification process. After this, she finally pronounced that the rock was . . . andesite.

One of the students (a member of the university marching band, I believe; probably all of 19 or 20 years old) said to me, "Next week, will you be my lab partner?"

YEAH! Score one for the old lady of the class!

Dear Geology Major . . .

who sits in front of me in my geology class:

Your swiveling classroom seat is not an easy chair or a lounge chair or your living room sofa. You are sitting in class, not in front of the TV. The professor's lecture may be boring, but I bet if you really try, you can drum up a bit of enthusiasm for understanding how the systems that make up our atmosphere work. When you slide your butt down in your chair, stretch your long legs out in front of you, and reach back with your arms as if you are participating in some crafty new-age yoga pose, your hands end up about two inches in front of my nose. I could casually reach over with my pencil and poke you in the top of the head. In other words, you are seriously invading my personal space.

I have refrained from doing so thus far, out of kindness to your kind in general (i.e. young, silly undergraduates) and because I enjoy watching the professor get astonished at your overall stretchiness and flexibility in the middle of a classroom lecture. But my patience is nearing an end. If you feel a poke on the top of your prematurely balding head, or if the backwards-pointing brim of your baseball cap gets knocked down any further than it already is, you'll know it's me.

Signed,

Old Lady Who Sits Behind You In Class

You Never Call, You Never Write

I'm trying not to complain, but since I had to miss class on Monday (because I was doing some professional development work for a school district) I emailed my professor on Friday, asking for Monday's homework so I could get started on the homework on Tuesday. Here it is, Tuesday night, and still no response.

Guess I'll pick it up in class on Wednesday.

Homework

In this semester's attempt to achieve science nerd queen-ness, I'm taking a 2000 level geology class that takes a systems approach, involves some chemistry, and really pushes on my (somewhat rusty) quantitative skills.

It's that last part that is the reason why each week's homework (handed out on Monday; due on Friday) TAKES ME ALL WEEK TO FINISH SUCCESSFULLY. Last week's assignment involved the quadratic equation. Now I do remember learning the quadratic equation back many, many years ago. But really, in my life as an English/adolescent literacy type, there's not a whole lot of call for it. So this week, as in every previous week, the homework (initially) stumped me. I got help from all and sundry, including Footslogger, my math teacher friends, the class TA, and a math professor. Eventually I did finish it, though I'm pretty sure there are mistakes in it.

We also had a test on Friday, and I'm pretty sure I did ok. As always, the content of the course is interesting, and the math points up the weaknesses in my background. Oh, and how long it has been since I took algebra (24 years, to be pointed).

On a completely unrelated topic -- but one that is on my mind this weekend -- I heard a rumor (oh, how I hope this one isn't true) this weekend about a former student caught in some reprehensible behavior with a high school student. Makes. Me. Sick. I know this behavior is not a reflection on me or my teaching, but it makes me feel that I failed this student somehow. It is a sobering reminder that my students -- future teachers -- have huge responsibilities to their students and to the parents of those students. Which makes my responsibility that much more serious.

Oh, the drama.

Just a short note to say that I'm freaking out because I have no idea how to do my homework assignment for my geology class. It involves half-life and requires manipulation of an equation.

Can you say 23 years since I took algebra?

I'm going to try to email my lab instructor to get some help. Or maybe my husband can help me. Otherwise, I'm lost.

Education? Computers?

OK, I saw the career thing flying around at Dr. Crazy and Profgrrrrl, and decided to go and do it myself.

So here are my top 10 careers, according to Career Cruising:


1.Professor

2.Foreign Language Instructor

3.ESL Teacher

4.Music Teacher / Instructor

5.Computer Support Person

6.Computer Programmer

7.Computer Trainer

8.Elementary School Teacher

9.High School Teacher

10.Multimedia Developer

I find it quite interesting that ALL of the top 10 involve either education (which I've been doing for lo these 23 years) or computers (which I'm a freakin' geek about).

If you want to go and try, the username is nycareers and the pw is landmark.

Summit video

Here's a short video of the final summit of Katahdin, the successful end of my pursuit to complete the Appalachian Trail. Narrated by Footslogger, of course.

No Need for Prerequisites

The course I'm taking this semester is a 2000-level geology course, which apparently takes an earth systems, geochemical approach to geology. The first day of class, the professor emphasized the prerequisites, including a 1000-level geology course with a lab and a chemistry course.

After class, a student came up to the professor and explained that he didn't have the 1000-level geology course prerequisite.

"But," he said, "I should be ok. My grandfather is a geologist."

Yeah, that should work.

Retreat

Yesterday's college retreat (or as I like to say "retreat" cause it's not really a retreat unless I'm doing meditation or getting a facial) was actually the best we've had in recent years. The focus was on diversity and the presenters made the experience interactive, informative, and interesting. Lunch was good, the company of my colleagues was fun, and I even had the (somewhat scary) experience of roleplaying a conversation about diversity with a colleague in front of EVERYONE ELSE IN THE COLLEGE.

Don't know why I volunteered for that one, but I was SO happy when it was over.

Oh, Hail!

Along with our typical 2:00 rainstorm came a nice bit of hail, as seen on our deck:

Advice for New Teachers

If you're a new teacher, I hope you'll read the post by Ms. Cornelius offering advice for new teachers on classroom management, supplies, presentation, and keeping healthy. FANTASTIC STUFF! Read the comments, too, because there are some great ideas there as well.

2000-Miler

It's official. As of August 17th, I have hiked all 2,175 miles of the Appalachian Trail.

I've been working on becoming a 2000-miler for the last 6 years. Here's how that endeavor has played out:

2001: This is the year in which I hiked the majority of the trail -- about 1,700 miles. I began March 17th and hiked to Damascus, Virginia. It was during the last few days of that section that I injured the muscle in my rear which forced me to come off the trail for a month and a half. I got back on in Waynesboro, Virginia and hiked to South Egremont, Connecticut, then skipped up to Hanover, New Hampshire and hiked to Gorham, New Hampshire. Then I skipped up to Monson, Maine and hiked the 100-mile wilderness and summitted Katahdin. Good chunks of trail that I completed, but still missing a few bits here and there.

2003: Footslogger's thru-hike. I hiked with him most of the section in Virginia (between Damascus and Waynesboro.

2004: I hiked the 20 miles into Damascus, from the road where I stood, crippled, and got a ride from a kind friend into town in 2001.

2005: I finished up the Virginia section and hiked from South Egremont, Connecticut to Hanover, New Hampshire with my friend, colleague, and hiking buddy, Red.

2006: Gorham, New Hampshire to Rangeley, Maine (by far, the hardest 100 miles I have ever hiked).

2007: Rangeley, Maine to Monson, Maine. This is the bit I just finished, having returned home last night after a 20-hour travel day! After we finished this 105-mile section, we took a day off (much deserved, by the way) and then got ourselves to Mt. Katahdin for a final summit. As usual, the beauty and grandeur of that mountain completely amaze me.

As I am now a 2000-miler, I've been giving some thoughts to lessons that I've learned from the trail over the last 6 years. Here are a few ideas, for starters:

1. No matter whether I hike 10 miles or 25 miles on any particular day, I always end the day exhausted. I believe it's because I don't take enough breaks. Or maybe that I know I should be exhausted, so I make myself that way?

2. The only certain diet plan I've ever been successful with is a thru-hike. In 2001, I lost 40 pounds in 6 months; unfortunately, I wasn't able to keep off that weight.

3. There comes with a thru-hike a sense of confidence. If I can hike this amazingly difficult trail, I can do just about anything. That has helped with lots of other things that don't necessarily come easily in life.

4. Anywhere is in walking distance, if you have the time.

5. Long-distance hikers are both amazingly wonderful and wonderfully annoying. There are characters; there are thieves; there are gearheads; but mostly there's this wonderful community of people who are all aiming for the same thing, and looking out for each other along the way.

6. I should buy stock in the company that makes Snickers bars.

7. The human body is an amazing machine. Just two days ago I was sitting at the base of Mt. Katahdin, looking at the top, and thinking, "I got my body all the way up there and back again. How did I do that?" My body is strong and capable. That's a good thing.

8. Singing helps me hike when I'm exhausted and my feet are feeling battered and bruised. It's probably a good idea for me to sing more.

9. Uphill is much better than downhill. Or even flat, if you can believe it. I like the feeling of getting my breathing in a rhythm, pushing myself up a hill, and making it to the top. Going downhill punishes my knees; hiking on flat hurts my feet.

10. Whining about pain, exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, etc., only makes whatever I'm suffering from feel worse. A metaphor for life, I think.

Obviously, this man is my soulmate...

Just read a recap of a speech by Jim Cummins at the state NCTE conference in California. I so wish I had been there to hear him speak! Because just reading it, I gave him a standing ovation.

Some of the things I've been saying for years are in his speech. Just one example is the unconscionable amount of instructional time being lost to testing. This is something I have personal experience with, as student teachers under my supervision, every spring, spend literally weeks overseeing students taking tests. And that's just the time being spent on TAKING the tests, not the time spent by teachers (who are, yes indeed, afraid of losing their jobs if their students don't perform well) on preparing students to take the tests. I'm still waiting for the huge uprising of parents against the amount of time and the stress involved in these tests. Ridiculous. Parents, you should sue!

And then also there's the preposterous idea that the tests students are taking actually represent what they are capable of. We have those data, sure, but what other data might we also be collecting to help us understand how our students are doing?

And don't get me started on notions of "highly qualified" teachers that take into account ONLY the content the teachers have and not their actual ability to develop a classroom community, organize and carry out instruction, interact with other humans, etc.

Anyway, if you have a minute, go and read the overview of Jim Cummins' talk. That is an enlightened man.

Writing Project notes

The weekend beginning Friday, July 13th (and no, there was no bad luck associated with it) began this summer's invitational with the Wyoming Writing Project. I'm one of 12 "fellows" and -- along with several staff members -- we spent the initial weekend at the lovely Elk Mountain Hotel. The fellows are mostly teachers, with me (teacher educator), a school librarian, and a couple of principals. All education folks, anyway. We spent all day last Wednesday through Friday writing, brainstorming, and taking a field trip to Rock Springs. Why Rock Spring? you may be asking.

The culminating project of this year's Wyoming Writing Project will be writing, producing, and performing a play based on the massacre of @30 Chinese miners in Rock Springs in September of 1885. So we had a little tour of Rock Springs, so that we could more clearly envision the events and the places of the massacre.

If you'd like a little more information, here's a Wikipedia entry to get you started.

We also had to develop an essential question . . . I decided to focus on this one: "How does knowledge work?" which will allow me to do some personal and professional research related to knowledge transfer between differing types of settings.

I have a feeling that, over the course of the project (still 2 more weeks to run) we'll all get to know each other really well. I'm happy that so far no one has emerged as a complete wack job, and everyone is getting along fairly well. Perhaps we are still in a honeymoon phase . . .

I am most excited about being pushed to write. I don't take enough time to write for myself; instead, I'm constantly doing professional forms of writing, which are fulfilling, certainly, but lack a certain intimacy that I would like to have in my writing. So far I've done a scad of journaling, written a few poems, and begun reading on high-road and low-road transfer. I think that this experience will also be helpful in terms of my classes next fall; I'm hoping that I can transfer some of the community-building experiences and build teaching patterns for transfer into my classes.

Finals Week

Well, sort of. I have basically this week to finish my syllabi for fall courses, write and prepare materials to send to outside reviewers, and write my program report for accreditation. Why so much in just one week? Well, because starting Friday I'll be a "fellow" in the Wyoming Writing Project and when that finishes we'll be heading out east to hike about 100 miles on the AT in Maine. When we come back from that (much slimmer, I hope!), I'll have 4 days before the meetings and other crap begin that signal the onset of the fall semester.

So, I'll be working my ass off this week -- no slacking!

Day Hike

Yesterday's day hike down French Creek Canyon in the Snowy Range was delightful! The trail begins on the ridge of a steep canyon (the French Creek Canyon, don't ya know) and then follows that ridge down into a beautiful meadow. Going out is mostly downhill, which means that going back is mostly uphill. It was a great hike, a good workout, with lots of beautiful sights.

The trail follows French Creek down its canyon, which means our hike was accompanied by the sounds of rushing water and opportunities to soak our feet. . .

. . . and now that I'm a nerdy geology buff, I noticed some interesting rock formations that I still know nothing about. One day, however, I will understand these . . .

8 Things Meme

OK, I've seen this meme at Russian Violets, Dr. Crazy, and others. No one tagged me, but I thought it might be interesting to see what I can come up with, then to tag some folks and see if anyone actually follows through.


Here are the rules to play:

1. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.

2. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.

3. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.



So -- 8 random facts about Dr. Bad Ass:



1. I have a bad habit of picking at my cuticles; I can only keep myself from doing this by giving myself frequent manicures and keeping my nails painted.

2. When I was in third grade, I told a fellow third-grader (yes, a "popular" girl) that I had broken my leg the summer before. Somehow, I thought this would make me cool.

3. I went to Girl Scout camp every year between the ages of 8 and 14. Then I became a Girl Scout camp counselor.

4. When I graduated from high school, I wanted to be a truck driver. My mother did not approve. Now I'm THRILLED that I didn't become a truck driver, since I hate driving 45 minutes to the mall in the next town over!

5. I like going to conferences, but I rarely go to sessions not presented by me, my students, or my grad school colleagues (yeah, Margaret, Gwynne, Melanie, Cheri, George, and Alison!).

6. The young adult lit course that I taught last spring was my best experience as a college teacher ever. You guys were fabulous!

7. According to my mother, when I was two years old, I wanted to do everything "my-by-self." Still do.

8. I love our Farmer's Market here in town, but I wish they would just give away baskets of cherries and forget everything else.



I know I'm supposed to tag 8 people, but .... I don't think 8 people who blog read this! So here are the folks I'm tagging:



Tessa (your mom or dad can do it for you!), Jen, Kathryn and/or Paul and of course, anyone else out there who hasn't already done it.



Connie, it's time for you to have your own blog, now . . .



8-)

Once Again, with the Old Manuscript

Now I'm finally back to revising (for the umpteenth time) that old manuscript. We got a revise and resubmit for it, and fairly good and substantial reviews, so I'm at it again. I do like revise and resubmits, for the improvements I can make to my writing. However, having been burned last year with two revise and resubmits that were later rejected, I've become a bit cynical.

Some of you may find that hard to believe.

But really, the reviewers are asking for additional data (which we have!) and it's a matter of polishing up, adding material, being thoughtful about our implications, and in general, good researchers and writers. I think we can do it. Whether it will then get accepted and I can stop messing around with this old thing (which is now called version 17) is yet to be seen.

Anyway, it's Friday, and I've about done everything I can on it.

Bullets

• Recovering from a Weird Virus. Well, first Loving Spouse (hereafter known as LS) had it. Then I got it. What is "it" you may ask? It's a weird virus that only made us a little sick, but sick enough to feel crappy, dragged down, and lie around in our easy chairs for several days. Neither of us could figure it out, but we did lots of sleeping and lots of complaining for the 3-4 days that it took to work out of our systems.


• Underwater Video Progress. I've already got the camcorder; two days ago LS ordered the video housing for me. Yesterday I ordered a battery that should last 100 minutes. Next thing you know, I'll be posting videos from our next dive trip on this blog.


• Work Stuff. Movement toward this year's T&P review is underway. I won't say more about it, but getting confirmation of a manuscript's acceptance several weeks ago leaves me feeling pretty good about it.


• More Work Stuff. The Weird Virus (see above) put a big kibosh on my work, which means I have tons to do this week and it is already Wednesday! So I should stop blogging immediately and get to work. But I won't.


• LibraryThing. Love it. I can spend HOURS cataloguing my books, which means hours not spent working.


• Window Boxes. We put up window boxes on our house and filled them with flowers. They are beautiful!

Happy Nude Hiking Day!

OK, it's really the Summer Solstice, but to long-distance hikers, it is Nude Hiking Day. In 2001, I was hiking through the Shenandoahs on June 21st, so I didn't hike nude. Why, you may ask? Well, because I didn't want to freak out the little children and their parents (tourists) that I encountered multiple times a day as the trail crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway. I didn't think that little children should be exposed to adult hiker nudity. Way too hairy, believe me!

I did see several hikers who hiked nude, though -- using bandanas for strategic coverage. Let's see, the trail names of those folks were Hippy Longstocking, and a couple of others I can't remember . . . maybe Stovetop? I know that my buddies Skidmark and Balloo hiked naked in 2003, cause that's the kind of folks they are. Fun-loving and crazy. Anyone who takes their three-month old on her first camping trip has my complete love and respect.

It's been a week or so of helping Continental Divide Trail (CDT) thru-hikers. Today we shuttled Sly to Cheyenne, so he could take a bus to Glacier in Montana; and we dropped Haiku off at the bus station, where he's taking a bus to Denver as I write this. None of them were naked, by the way.

I spent a good bit of time today -- no, not being naked, get your mind out of the gutter! -- checking the edits of my fantastic chapter authors. You should know that almost all of them got their edits back to me within the deadline, and they did an excellent job of addressing all of the queries posted by the publisher. I just had one clarification to make, and it was easy. All of THAT makes me a happy co-editor.

I have a manuscript to review, a dissertation to read, and a manuscript to revise, but maybe I'll get to all of those tomorrow . . . when it's NOT nude hiking day.