Touch the future

first day of class

student: My adviser just signed me up for this class, so I do not have the readings.
me: Oh, OK. Your adviser signed you up? Are you interested in the class?
student: Uh, yeah. I asked her to sign me up for a "modern" class.

(note: "modern [discipline unspecified]" is kind of broad.)

next class
(same) student absent.

next class

(same) student: Professor, I downloaded the books for the class onto my I Pad, so if you see me looking at my computer during class for a long time, that is why.

(note: I have banned computers in my class.)

me: Your I Pod? That is not a good way to read the books.
student: No, my I Pad! These are the new times, I downloaded the books.
me: Uh, which book? We did not read any books for today. We read articles.
student: Uhm.
me: Do you mean [name of textbook]?
student: I don't know. My mom downloaded them for me.

Grading

Grading hurts me brain!

Did you know? The functioning of printers is directly affected by their proximity to the survivors of recent car accidents

Student:

"Sorry that I did not print my paper out before class started this morning. My roommate got in a bad car accident last night."

Note: This same roommate's bout of swine flu earlier in the semester showed that the functioning of printers is also adversely affected by their proximity to swine flu.

Chalk butt

Sometimes I turn around from writing on the board and people on the right side of my class are laughing amongst themselves. This is when I am teaching.

For the past year I've attributed this to my own (substantial) paranoia, until about an hour ago when after my lecture a student tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You have chalk on your butt."

I waited until most of my students were gone, then I craned my neck around and had a look at my butt. It had a big white line across one cheek. This line could only be from me sitting on the chalk ledge--the part of the blackboard where you store chalk.

At that moment, gazing at my own butt, I realized: I sometimes "rest" on the chalk ledge when I'm teaching. I hadn't consciously considered this before--it's just something I do without thinking while I teach. I feel tired, so I perch or lean on whatever is handy.

But when I perch on the chalk ledge: white line across butt.

Winter holiday math

3 glasses of white wine (2 riesling, 1 sauvignon blanc)
13 final exams left to grade
2 and one half hours before grades are due via online submission
At least 1 more college football--er--game coming on TV tonight

Failed jokes (recent)

Uttered by yours truly while lecturing and met by students in Nazi History 102 with total and complete silence.

Last week, while screening Triumph of the Will:

"See these Nazi Party members cheering for Hitler? Well, they really loved Hitler. They loved, loved him. They thought Hitler was just...[trying to think of joke]...the best thing since sliced bread."

Today, toward the end of a stock rant about the origins of the Boy Scouts (whom I have always opposed) in the Boer War and their paramilitary accouterments and historic imperialism, which was prompted by a student question about the relationship between the American Boy Scouts and the Hitler Youth:

Me: "I mean, come on. Who sells cookies in a paramilitary uniform? Who sells cookies in a paramilitary uniform?"
Student: Uhm, the Girl Scouts?

Student feedback

From the end-of-semester class comments form filled out by students in Basic Composition, an intro to college writing course:

"I did not find the pier reviews of my essay drafts all that helpful."

THE GAYS

I came out to my class. This is maybe the first time I've done this (there maybe was one other time?) but certainly the first time I've been crystal-clear to the class that yes, I'm A GAY.

(The class is on imperialism, so maybe you are thinking, how did this happen? Was it like the world's most helpful accused witches?) It happened like this.

We were reading this anti-immigration piece by Margaret Thatcher where she says that immigration and 'the growth of the permissive society' or something both threaten Britain. (Oh no!)

Student: What's she mean by the permissive society?
Me: Class, what's she mean?
People in class: Loosening morals, etc.
Me: That's right! She means THE GAYS.
(People in class look confused.)
Me: (Hopping around happily) THE GAYS, that's what she's talking about. She's like, 'Oh no, watch out, spooky immigrants and GAYS!'
Me: (Spooky hand motions)
Student: What? 'The gaze"?

(We talk a lot in class about 'the European gaze.')

Me: (Merrily writing it in huge letters on the board) No, not 'the gaze', THE GAYS.
Me: (Circling 'THE GAYS' on the board)
Me: (Realizing that I've got to tell them I'm a lezzie or they'll think I'm gay bashing) I call it this because I'm one of them. I'm A GAY!
Me: (Realizing that this is super funny to me and my buddies, but my poor dear students are lost, lonely and turning bright red.)
Me: I can call it this because I'm one of them. You don't have to. You can call it gays, lesbians, bisexuals, trans folks, etc. Or queer.

Then we had a big discussion about what "queer" means, how it offends some people, and whether to use it.

Anyway, well, my excuse for not coming out to my classes is that it never comes up, and I don't like to talk about my personal life. But today it came up. Not that they were surprised, I hope.

The 19th C will always welcome you back

I signed up to teach this class called AGE OF EUROPEAN EXPANSION and sadly Europe started expanding--yes, that's right, try not to panic--before the French Revolution. You know, in that gray and fuzzy time period I like to call "Back in the Day" (or BITD). When Europeans like, road on burros wacking each other with clubs and had witchcraft familiars named Snoony Tom and didn't believe in evolution. It is also called Olde Time and Ye Olde Time.

So the whole first two weeks of this class, I find myself saying things like, "As the Portuguese extended their chain of forts down the west coast of Africa," and using the word "15" things. As in, "1519" and "1562." Numbers that start with 15. As in, as my own voice comes out of my head, it triggers a faint memory of my 10th grade civics teacher saying much the same thing. And terror. It triggers terror, because instead of the old, familiar and answered-before questions (ex: "Was Hitler gay?") you get stopped in your paces whilst in front of your class with doozies like "Did the Maya have money?" "How did the Aztecs select their kings?" "What was the population of the largest city in Europe in 1500?"

Answer: "Well, the Maya didn't have money as we understand it, of course, but they did have units of exchange."

Answer: "Aztec king selection was a complicated affair, with heavy priest involvement and possible human sacrifice."

Follow-up question: "So, did the Aztecs have a hereditary monarchy?"

Answer: "Well, not per se, but being related to the former ruler helped one get power."

(Note: Post-class research revealed that the Mayan money answer is correct (thanks to roommate research dept.) but the Aztec answer is totally wrong!)

It makes you even wish once again to hear the well-known ring of, "I saw a show on the History Channel--Was Hitler on drugs?"

(Note: the show is called "High Hitler.")

Anyway, but finally tomorrow we are moving on to the Atlantic Slave Trade and the book I've assigned takes place in 1823. Whew. I never thought I'd be so glad to see the 19th C. The 19th C, when things finally start making sense.

I feel bad that I once called it "the null century."