As faculty, I know I am a jack of all trades and a master of none. I need to be: flexible but not too flexible, organized but not over the top, creative but not unclear, curious but in asking the right questions, innovative to a point, authentic but…there’s no but here…authentic always, problem-solving for all the things, calm but energized, centered, knowledgeable in my content area and everything higher ed, patient but firm with deadlines, demonstrate a love of learning for life, adaptable especially in a pandemic-laced world, engaged but know when to pull back, empathetic but be wary of emotional overload, prepared always for anything, positive even if personally I don’t feel it, vulnerable but not oversharing, understanding but being resolute with my syllabus, equitable, dedicated but create a work/life balance, model integrity, have high expectations but be realistic, and include a sense of humor but be sure it’s warranted. It is no wonder there was a recent article in The Chronicle about higher ed being exhausted. Unequivocally, the role of “mom, mama, mommy, MO-OM,” to three beautiful boys for twenty years has enhanced my teaching practice more than anything else, and the parallels of parenting to the practice of teaching are undeniable. If I choose that route, this article will literally write itself (ya best watch out, ChatGPT).

Instead, in true Roxanna fashion, I tend to overthink things sometimes and take the road less traveled. My friends and I joke that I should wear a shirt with the phrase “Learning the hard way since the 1970s” skating across the front. So, here goes. 

Seven years ago, as a newly divorced forty-something with three kids, I knew I had to look out for myself by getting physically and mentally healthy. The gym became my solace and sanctuary, and hiking became my church. While I found myself molding into the shape my portly younger self would have envied, I also turned into the Tin [Wo]Man with cramps in odd places and muscle tightness. My sister recommended yoga. Yoga was something I thought about frequently, but quite frankly, did not have the cajones to try. Plus, it wasn’t JUST yoga. It was HOT YOGA.

A studio down the street was offering a trial of classes for a couple of weeks, so I figured why not. The first piece of advice I received was to be sure to arrive hydrated; I made sure to chug down a bunch of water. The second piece of advice was to be sure to have a yoga mat and some kind of towel to put on top of it to soak up the sweat; I had a yoga mat purchased cheaply from TJ Maxx and a beach towel. When I arrived, ready to rock with my water bottle and towels, the yoga teacher recommended I place my mat by the door. I thought, “No problem, I’ve got this.” The studio began filling with sinewy, spindly-toned yogis with perfect yoga attire, yoga mats, and yoga towels. They make yoga towels? Yeah, I didn’t know about that, either. Let’s just say the first class, I did not expect to sweat my body weight, and I had no idea what I was doing. The instructor would say foreign things that sounded something like this: “Plank pose, exhale, come down, hands by your shoulders, inhale, fold your toes back, push up, up dog, fold your toes under, exhale, down dog. This is our vinyasa. It’s optional.” 

To say I could hardly keep up is an understatement; I went through all my water and looked on in awe at the slightly perspiring yogis in front of me doing full splits and flowing through their flows like sugar plum fairies. I dropped to my beach towel mat in a pool of my own sweat, puffy red face, snot, and sweat and tears all blending together, heart racing, trying to catch a breath in the 104-degree humid air. It is not a hyperbole when I say I was surprised I made it out alive. I thought if I died as a melted gummy pool on the mat, there would be worse ways to leave this life. At the end of the class, I bolted for the door, if only to feel a brief relief from the cooler air outside the death steam of the room. Afterward, despite the terrible headache invading my brain, this practice intrigued me, and I was eager to learn how to control my breath and start to heal myself from the inside out. I went back.

With determination to learn the sequence of movements to reach shavasana: warm-up, awkward series, balancing series, flows, and floor poses, I began to attend regularly. Hot yoga was the total magic formula for not only looking but FEELING healthy from the inside out; I needed it, and it unexpectedly began to enhance my teaching practice, particularly when I consider the guidance I picked up along the way:

1. Stay on your mat.

In yoga, the best place to be is on the mat. I can always come down to child pose or lay down, but the coolest place in the room is on the mat. In teaching, I use this to remember to focus on the things I can control within the walls of my classroom. 

2. Don’t give your practice away.

In yoga, it is important to see myself in the mirror and create a focal point where my focus is directed and supported with a mantra like “Strong. Here. Now,” especially in balancing poses. If I’m looking elsewhere, then I lose my focus, and I will lose my pose. In teaching, I have learned to forge my own path, focus, and do what is best for my students in my classroom.

3. Your breath will always guide you.

In yoga, the breath is used to guide the practice. With inhales and exhales, the body bends and stretches into complex poses. If the breath becomes choppy or unmanageable, it is time to take a break. In life and in teaching, if I find myself becoming anxious or losing my breath, I know it is time to take a break or a pause. 

4. Take what you need.

With yoga, it is important to feel good after practice. If I push myself too hard, then I will likely end up out of breath and crying in the car after practice. It is imperative to find the balance in the practice and be mindful of what my body needs, even if I think I should be better or be able to do more. With teaching, I know that if I feel rushed, then my students certainly do. It is essential that everyone leaves feeling well-equipped and prepared to manage each week’s workload and assignments. 

5. “You have worked so hard to become the person you are today; recognize that and honor it. You wouldn’t be you without the past versions of yourself, so cheer on your present self because you are building the foundation for your future self.” – from yoga teacher Ashley

In yoga, the present moment is the focus. The external stressors off of the mat, outside of the studio are not front of mind during practice. Additionally, it is important to give myself grace and recognize the effort and work I have put forth to be able to complete the entire practice without taking a break. In my career, I wouldn’t be the teacher I am today without the versions of me from the past, and I know I will continue to build my present to fortify my future.

Today, after hundreds of classes, my yoga practice remains imperfect, yet it is my sanctuary—a place where I can always reconnect with myself. After all, it is PRACTICE. As Tolle reminds us, I surrender to what is, allowing it to work for me instead of against me, and this yoga journey has certainly enhanced my teaching and my life.

When I first started teaching in 1999, one of my colleagues, a beloved veteran teacher, said, “Sully [my last name was Solley, but she had the kind of personality that was not to be corrected], you need to get that First Days of School book by the Wongs.” So I did (I still have it in my office). At the time, everything in it seemed to be common sense, and I guess it was–on paper. But once I was in the trenches, facing 32 high school seniors, with all their eyes locked on me, those “commonsense” strategies felt anything but simple.

Wong believes the first day of class is the most important day in a student’s education, and over the years, I’ve come to wholeheartedly agree with this. It blows my mind that some of my college professors would literally read the syllabus to us on the first day of class. Can you imagine such an offense? The first day of class for me now is about setting the tone of the class, having students do what I expect them to do for the rest of the semester, and of course, building community. I start with reading their names aloud and telling them to correct me if I say them incorrectly. Next, I have them sign-in as that is a procedure that happens every class meeting. From there, we do introductions, and I offer opportunities for them to “break the ice” before we dig into the content for the first week. Here are more activities I do to build community. Some are better suited for in-person classes, but they can all be modified for any modality.

1. M&M Ice Breaker (I learned this from teaching a learning community with the masterful Sherry Wangen): Students receive mini packets of M&M candies. On the overhead is a list of sentence starters that match individual M&M colors. Students need to finish the sentence of the first color M&M they draw. I go first, then students complete the exercise and share at their table teams. A couple examples of the sentence starters are: “I am here at GCC to…” and “A song I’m into right now is….”

2. Pear Deck: I use this Google extension because my students can interact in real time with the content, and it costs nothing. It is low stakes and works as a formative assessment throughout my class. Additionally, students can anonymously ask any question, and I’ll answer it. It also allows me to offer temperature checks (How are you feeling today?), positive mindset activities (What is one thing you like about yourself?), 3-2-1 entry/exit tickets, and cognitive breaks.

3. Introduction Discussion: Students can introduce themselves to the class. I offer a few prompts for them to respond to. For a bonus, they can add a study strategy they use or a motivational or inspirational song. 

4. Class Playlist: I take the songs students list in the intro discussion or vocabulary-building discussion and make a class playlist on Spotify. I embed it into an announcement in Canvas, and students can access it at their leisure. I may play it at the beginning of class, too, as I typically have some kind of music happening in class, from jazz guitar to Motown.

5. Sense of Belonging: At the top of every Canvas course home page, I have three sayings: You are not alone. You have potential. We are going to do this together. This emerged from the Cohen research I brought to the table at GCC a few years ago.

6. Setting Norms: The second class meeting, we discuss norms, and complete a norm setting activity for the class. These norms are posted at the top of the class homepage as reminders. 

7. Snacks: In my culture, we show we care through cooking and food. While I don’t have time to whip up a home-cooked feast for my students, I do show I care by bringing in a tray of snacks—usually Costco bars, maybe some fruit or candy. Students seem to really like them: “These are delicious!”, “Just like my mom gets!”, “Thank you!”

8. Vulnerability: I practice vulnerability with my students. When I’m writing with them, I share my personal experiences and keep it real by acknowledging that life has its ups and downs. It creates a warm and authentic atmosphere where we can all connect and support each other.

These are just a few of the ways I’ve evolved my practice to build community and create that Wong-inspired first day magic in my classroom.

Did you know that the brain is consistently seeking out success? It seeks common patterns and familiarity to make sense of situations. If the brain is trained to seek success, then it will find it. This is why athletes will meditate and visualize catching a game-changing interception, hitting a grand slam, or making a half-court winning buzzer beater before a performance. Of course, versions of success vary by individual, and unfortunately, if someone believes that they will fail, then they will because that is what the brain deems successful.

Every time we walk through a doorway, we have a chance to reset our minds and map out the new space for success. You may have heard about the “doorway effect” or experienced it when you’ve walked through a doorway only to forget what you were looking for in the new room. This brief disruption of thought can be transformed into a powerful opportunity—a moment to refocus and set clear intentions for achieving our goals. Our brain forgets the past when we walk through a threshold, so that it can make sense of the new situation or circumstance. Turn this into a metaphor for whatever you’d like.

This is where the concept of “doorway affirmations” enters the chat. Michael Phelps used the strategy of doorway affirmations as a strategy to help with his anxiety and depression. When speaking about the technique, Phelps said that every time he walked through any doorway, he would say something positive to himself. Examples of these optimistic glimmers are: “I’ve got this,” “I’m awesome,” “I’m so smart,” “I’m amazing,” “I’m beautiful,” “I’m loved,” “I’m confident,” “I’m enough,” and “I’m worthy.” Essentially, we can harness the brain’s natural tendency to reset, a powerful mental shift, at every doorway, as a way to prime ourselves for success, leave behind doubts, and remind us of our own capabilities.

In addition to offering a moment to visualize success and focus on goals, I’d like to think my current workspace entrance offers a welcoming environment to both students and colleagues. On the door itself, I have posters and data about censorship and the Top Ten Banned Books of 2023. To the right of the door, in the floor-length window, I have a picture of me with the very first class I taught at GCC to remind me of their curiosity, determination, and ganas. Accompanying that picture, there is a cool Route 66-esque Write6X6 sticker, a group selfie of me and colleagues at one of Lori’s infamous Holiday Happenings, my Student Support Hours, a sign that says, “I Teach. What’s your superpower?” a wooden painting of a Catrina with a crown of red, yellow, and purple paper marigolds, my teaching philosophy in a word cloud, a censorship: the assassination of an idea bookmark, GCC Values, a thank you card, a Foster Advocate sign, and the printed poem, “Anyway”:

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

Right above the doorway to my office entrance, I have my lucky horseshoe hanging, “GOOD LUCK, ROXANNA” – a treasure from one of my adventures as a kid at Girl Scout camp or Rawhide. Every day I walk through the doorway, my affirmation might be, “Let’s do this,” or “I can do hard things,” or “Today is going to be a great day,” and I hope my colleagues and students do the same.

As a lifelong learner, I’m always learning new things. It keeps me young. About five minutes ago, I learned about Craiyon, an AI illustrator which will create anything you type into it. I’m in awe, and more importantly, I can see how I would use it. On Tuesday, I used a thinking protocol called See-Think-Wonder, learned from Betsey Wheeler, where students had to procure or draw an image which represented their research topics and discuss the image by answering the following questions: 1. What do you see?; 2. What do you think about it?; 3. What does it make you wonder?. I use this protocol to help students visualize their topic as an object, so it imprints in the front of their mind as they begin their scholarly investigations. The next time I do this, I’m going to have them use Craiyon. Oh! Maybe after my 101 students write their memoirs, I’ll have them generate an illustration with their own descriptions to see what happens when they literally create a picture with words. This is the extent I’ve used AI in my classroom.

We discussed the use of AI on the first day in one of my classes, and I asked students to use it as a tool to support what they are already creating but not to supplant it. A student offered feedback about how she uses it to finesse her sentence structure and typos in her writing, beyond Grammarly. Our first Writer’s Workshop is next week, so I think I will offer students that option. Of course, I’m thinking about how if they post their own work into ChatGPT, then they are adding to the proverbial “machine,” and I’m uncomfortable with the ethical implications, like how much is too much? Somewhere out there, Aldous Huxley must be saying, “See! I told you so!”

Beyond the classroom, I’ve used ChatGPT to generate a “strengthening and conditioning exercise routine for a middle aged woman,” “recipes to boost metabolism,” and “a healthy eating menu for a family of four and corresponding grocery lists.” On Linkedin, I’ve contributed to AI generated articles with my “human” professional expertise. I’ve also started to read about how it is being used to support neurodivergent students in breaking down potential barriers, which is important to me. Moving forward, since AI has clearly claimed permanent residence in our world, I’ll utilize it as a tool in my classroom, personal life, and research, but I will remain in ethical quandary.

I have a few favorite resources and tools I use in my teaching practice. They’ve made it to my favorite list because they are functional, well-designed, and essentially make life easier for me and my students. My first favorite tool is Google docs, slides, websites, forms, and spreadsheets. As a teacher who started my career with chalkboards and overheads and paper files…ALL THE FILES, Google suite has been this writing gal’s dream come true. I can create a document that saves automatically, can share it with anyone at any time, and they can edit it, too?!? I use Google docs for EVERYTHING: peer review, writing workshop, class voting, embedding syllabi into Canvas, surveys, student information forms, student book selections, e-portfolios, demonstrating MLA and APA formatting, class projects (right now my EDU221/ENG102 Learning Community students are working on creating presentations specific to various stakeholders), showcasing student work like my ENH112 students’ stories about identity, and housing my millions (maybe billions?!?) of files.

My second favorite tool is PearDeck. PearDeck makes my life easier as an instructor because it makes formative assessment interactive and fun. I can ask thought provoking questions or ask how everyone is doing before class starts, and I can garner an immediate response from all students simultaneously. The drawing option certainly livens up things. Imagine 18 different images representing research topics or, for fun, 18 different interpretations of adding a costume to a jack-o-lantern. Other tools along the same vein are PollEverywhere, Padlet, and Kahoot. To sort groups, I like to use Random Team Generator, and to keep time during collaboration, I like to use any version of an online Egg Timer.

My third favorite resource is Spotify. I use it to create a playlist for each class based on responses about songs they find uplifting and have used it in the past to create theme-based playlists for different writing projects like This I Believe. I’ll play it while students are trickling into the classroom, grabbing snacks, and getting situated or in-between tasks. Spotify makes it easy to embed the playlist into Canvas, too.

Finally, my last favorite tool is Loom. As a Chrome extension, it makes it super simple to record a screencast or a video and embed it into Canvas to support instruction or weekly tasks. I’m sure I’ll think of something else as soon as I post this, but these are some of the tech resources and tools I use regularly.

While age and enrollment status are key, the other demographics here also speak loudly: over half of our students are female and first generation with no or limited prior college experience, our occupational awards are equal to our transfer degrees, and, as an HSI, Hispanics make up more of our student population than any other ethnicity. Furthermore, we know our classrooms are also serving neurodivergent populations and those impacted by the current and severe mental health crisis. This is our community, and as a community college, our purpose is to serve the community in making all decisions with the following foresight: “How does this support our students?” A sense of belonging on campus is a paramount part of the puzzle, and as faculty, staff, and administration, we play the most essential role in fostering it. It starts with us. According to Sparks (2021), “A Review of Educational Research analysis of 46 studies found that strong teacher-student relationships were associated . . . with improvements on practically every measure schools care about: higher student academic engagement, attendance, grades, fewer disruptive behaviors. . . .” Furthermore, Maslow (1943) asserts belonging is one of the five basic needs associated with human motivation. We know our students are more likely to feel motivated and will be more likely to succeed and fulfill self-efficacy when they feel belongingness. A very wise special needs parent advocate once told me, “The child will always determine the place.” Meaning, if the student feels belongingness, then they will only thrive in the right place. Angelou believed in belonging to herself: “You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great…” (Goodreads, 2023). So, what does it mean to belong, and more importantly, how do we foster it on our campus?

To me, belonging means fitting in through: feeling a part of something greater, being respected and valued for my contributions, being recognized for my strengths and allowed weaknesses, and trusting my identity is also recognized and accepted. It isn’t new, and it is more than a buzzword. Thus, belonging is something I actively think about and plan for in my work as faculty at GCC. I’m not great with small talk, and I’d much prefer to simply get to work, but I try to make an effort to talk to my students when they come to class, know their preferred names and pronunciations, meet them where they are, offer referrals to other campus resources, welcome each one when they enter, offer them snacks, craft assignments which connect them to the content and their communities, constantly post campus events and happenings in Canvas Announcements, craft warmer-toned emails, use messaging in Canvas if they have fallen off of the radar, offer diverse readings, demonstrate gratitude and empathy when they share their circumstance with me, use music and humor, offer flexibility, maintain high standards and clear expectations, recruit for ENH112: Chicano Literature in hopes that it makes again (pero sin éxito), be real and do my best to be vulnerable and human if I make a mistake (post-COVID brain fog is real) or share a learning from my own experience. I have also been using Pear Deck to do emotional temperature “Check-ins.”

I’m not alone in these things. They are happening all over campus every day, all day. I know my colleagues and their commitment to the shared responsibility. I’m thinking to foster belonging on campus even more, possibly bolstering the concept of students belonging every place, it would take a team-approach where all of the current efforts are centralized, and we really seek a shared understanding and visibly address the invisible barriers for our students we may not be aware of.

References
Goodreads. (2023). A quote from conversations with Maya Angelou (literary conversations. Goodreads. Retrieved April 12, 2023, from https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/904289-you-only-are-free-when-you-realize-you-belong-no

Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review, 50 (4), 370-96.

Sparks, S. D. (2021, September 17). Why teacher-student relationships matter. Education Week. Retrieved April 12, 2023, from https://www.edweek.org/teaching-learning/why-teacher-student-relationships-matter/2019/03#:~:text=A%20Review%20of%20Educational%20Research,fewer%20disruptive%20behaviors%20and%20suspensions%2C

I don’t know what I think about AI in education. To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. I know I should. Last night, I was grading an essay and “Ugh, what if this was written by AI? More importantly, what if I don’t know?” scrolled across my brain. Honestly, I don’t feel like I have the mental capacity to grapple with all the complications about this right now. It takes me time to process things. I did spend a little time with this article about using it to save time, though. 

So, what if I wrote, for this post, about another type of technology? In his Wonderworks: The 25 Most Powerful Inventions in the History of Literature, Dr. Angus Fletcher asserts one of the most powerful of technologies is literature. Yes! It’s true! With a background in neuroscience, Fletcher writes about different inventions in the technology of literature which function to offer different salves for the brain.

For example, he discusses the invention of the Sorrow Resolver through the plot of Hamlet. I reflected the following:

Hamlet was written after Hamnet’s passing? After all the years of studying Shakespeare, why have I not heard this before? It makes perfect sense. And as far as Nero goes, what exactly is a mechanical bedroom or killer yacht? If Shakespeare’s guide to grief was Cardano’s Comfort and the advice was to feel it like a man, it is interesting how he rebuffs it through Macduff in the Scottish play. I remember this part; although I didn’t think of it as a preface to therapy, only as support for Macduff exemplifying “a good man” and foiling Macbeth. If therapy surrounding grief has two parts of “acknowledging the hurt of the bereavement” and “dwelling on the happy memories,” then I understand Fletcher’s point regarding Macduff (130).  The analysis and rationale of the juicy revenge plot as a distraction from grief is also sound. However, it makes me contemplate how grieving women were treated, either in deflecting the grief or descending into madness.  When I read Hamlet, I was more enveloped in Ophelia and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern than I was Hamlet’s insufferable woe-is-me wandering. Hamlet had all the makings of a revenge plot which was never fulfilled because he fails with both revenge and the remembrance play (Fletcher 135).  Despite this, it has captivated audiences, though, because it is a demonstration of a character acknowledging grief, wallowing in grief, and moving through the actions of feeling guilty for not memorializing the dead “enough.” Grief is complicated and complex. No one demonstrates grief in the same way. It is not until the final act when grief is acknowledged as a public emotion and via Laertes, “Hamlet acknowledges that someone can feel like him” when he finds the guilt lift (Fletcher 136-37).  According to Fletcher, the “Sorrow Resolver” includes the “Grief Releaser” and the “Guilt Lifter” which work to lift the burden of feeling alone in grief which makes room for the dopamine and “happy memories” (138). 

This chapter has impeccable timing for me. My grandmother recently passed. Though she was 101 and suffering from dementia, I felt her loss acutely. She was my last grandparent and the one I was closest to. In watching my mom deal with the loss, I saw her not pausing until after the funeral, mass, and celebration of life because she wanted to be sure she created a memorial that lived up to what my grandmother would have wanted. As a grandchild, I was able to focus more on my own grief to stop and feel it, until I returned to work. It felt lonely because no one in my immediate household seemed to understand how I felt. When I was able to connect with my cousins, the burden was lifted a bit. In other ways, I have also felt grief, not through the physical loss of someone, but through the loss of life taking a different direction than what was intended or imagined. In both of those circumstances, at the time, I think I just kept moving the plot because I had to and probably was not ready to feel the accompanying intense emotions. Of course, it doesn’t mean the emotions go away, and certainly, if I talk to someone who has had a similar experience, it makes me feel like a part of something greater. There is comfort in that. 

Fletcher also explains an invention of the Tale Told from Our Future to excite curiosity. My reflection:

An example of a book I enjoyed that began with a story told from the future is The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. The book begins, “I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. . . .] That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out” (Hosseini 1). From the first page, the book is a page turner. Of course, it was used effectively to excite my curiosity the first time I encountered it because I love the line about the past clawing its way out. It’s perfect. It sets the stage for the entire novel because Amir spends his life attempting to atone for his decision that day. His choices and actions, at times throughout the novel, are despicable. Though, the reader has to grapple with the truth that he was an immature, spoiled child when he chose to leave Hassan. We are left questioning whether he can ever redeem himself into adulthood, even when he is beaten almost to death by Assef and rescues Sohrab from taking his own life; therein is the curiosity.  My subconscious must be attracted to this concept of “exciting the curiosity within” because many of the works listed in the chapter I have read, and I definitely enjoyed from riddle to thrill:  Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Macbeth, Gone Girl, Twilight, The Lovely Bones, and The Bourne Identity. 

Furthermore, Fletcher discusses the invention of the Stress Transformer to energize your life to which I reflected:

I found similarity in Fletcher’s description of “horror different” with what Stephen King asserts in his essay “Why We Crave Horror Movies.” Essentially, he says we watch the most aggressive of them because it keeps “the gators fed.” Horror movies are the raw meat we feed to the gators, our dark, nasty thoughts swimming around behind our “civilized forebrain” (King). I also liked the description about the concept that stress is not always harmful, and there can be good stress (that won’t kill you!). The concept reminded me about how when students are learning a new concept,  there may be struggle or resistance, and through the struggle, learning will emerge. I think the motto is, “Embrace the struggle.”

Every October, my fiancé and I use the month to watch a different horror movie every night. He chooses one night; I choose the next night. My choices are always lame and tame or hilarious dark comedies like Sean of the Dead or What We Do in the Shadows. His are always the scariest:  Friday the 13th, Halloween, Salem’s Lot, or the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (THE most terrifying movie I’ve ever seen). The last horror film that energized me was probably Get Out or Open Water.  For a book, it will always be The Stand. Though, I recently read I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, and that one stuck with me for a while. Anything dealing with real life horror typically resonates heavier with me. As far as a film that took me beyond dangerous and made me laugh, it was either Midsommar or the end of the original Friday the 13th. The last scene in Midsommer was just…I have no words. As a child, I  used to love Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and reading about ghosts like the Amityville Horror, too. When I think about the difference between the horror that energized me, there was real fear ingrained in me through the experience, and the plots, characters made me think. The horror that made me laugh was because I didn’t have another reaction as I was beyond shock.

Additionally, he explains the invention of the Fairy-Tale Twist to rid pessimism. My thoughts:

I am a Disney kid. Growing up, I loved all the movies: Cinderella, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, Lady and the Tramp, and The Fox and the Hound are some I remember specifically from childhood. From books, I recall my fascination with Aesop’s fables, “Rumpelstiltskin”(oh to be able to weave gold!),  “Hansel and Gretel” (if I was ever lost in the forest with my little sister, I would know what to do), “ The Golden Touch of King Midas” (the golden touch would become somewhat cumbersome after awhile), “Jack and the Beanstalk”(where can I buy magic beans?), “The Emperor’s New Clothes” (how did he not know he was naked?), “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” (Goldilocks is a brat, but I admired her confidence),  “Rapunzel” (oh to have hair like Rapunzel!), “The Princess and the Pea” (I felt I could relate when walking with a rock in my shoe),  “Thumbelina” (I wanted to put her in my pocket),  “The Ugly Duckling” (as a redhead in a family of brunettes, I felt the odd one out),  “The Three Little Pigs” (the best house to have is one of bricks…duh),  “The Hare and the Tortoise” (slow and steady),  “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” (he got what he deserved), and “Little Red Riding Hood” (I was caught up with how a little girl was allowed to prance through the woods). Later, I was exposed to Brothers Grimm and was engrossed with their dark and grotesque approach like Cinderella’s step-sisters cutting their feet to fit in their shoes. I’m surprised Fletcher did not mention these as they certainly would undo Perrault’s thorn. Also, as an aside, I found a similarity between the “catastrophizing” like-begets-like logic and self-judgment with the effects of social media. 

When Fletcher writes about the modern twists and Superman, I annotated in the column, “Annie!” prior to reaching the mention of it on page 123. Annie was probably my favorite. I loved all things Annie, likely because she looked like me, and of course, how amazing would it be to find a beautiful dog and be plucked by a Daddy Warbucks and thrust into wealth beyond wealth with everything a heart desires? My aunt even bought me an Annie wig for my sixth birthday.  Ok, as a kid, this seemed really cool. As an adult, I see it’s a bit problematic. I do see how the lucky twist included as a plot device can offer hope and work to fend off pessimism. 

Overall, Fletcher proposes 25 of these literary “inventions.” My favorite was the one regarding the Choose Your Own Accomplice through the work of Maya Angelou. I have a presentation on that one, so it doesn’t work for this purpose. Also, none of this post was written using AI.  

Thanks for reading!

How do you talk to students about current events? Or do you avoid these discussions? Is there a place for these discussions in our work on campus? If so, what strategies can we use to open the door to these sometimes difficult conversations with students?

In the classes I teach, it would be a Herculean feat to attempt to escape discussing current events. One of the tenets of my teaching philosophy is engaging students in content which affects and impacts the issues in their lives, so in ENG101 and ENG102, they will typically write about issues of importance to them and their communities, with parameters. In ENH295, the core content of the class pulses to and through the heart of banning, challenging, or censoring literature. In that class, discussing the current landscape and groundbreaking onslaught of book challenges is simply unavoidable.

To build classroom community and create a space where inquiry is encouraged and all perspectives are respected, I use a norm setting activity on meeting day one or two. These student led norms guide the way students interact with each other and me during our class time together. Typically, through consensus, students will decide to use a norm like “Be respectful to peers and instructor.” Then, if a conversation about a controversial issue transpires, we know the steadfast norm works to balance the group and maintain collegiality.

Another strategy I have found success with is using a Four Corners activity with signs of Agree, Strongly Agree, Disagree, and Strongly Disagree posted in each corner of the classroom. I will read a statement pertaining to the content, and students will move to the corner which best represents their position on the statement. Then, as a collective, we look at the trends. Did the whole class move to one side? Is it split equally? Are there more people who feel strongly agree or strongly disagree about the topic? Usually, I ask students from both perspectives to explain their stance. Then, to stir it up more, I ask if anyone has changed their mind after hearing the other side’s perspective.

These strategies are useful when we discuss current events to help students see multiple perspectives and to realize that even if we disagree, we can still respect each other. I do have to say, though, if there is a current event which strikes us all with its enormity, then I may just say, “Did you see this?” or “I know we are all feeling…” to give them space/time to think and discuss before we move onto content. For example, when the pandemic shifted us into a parallel universe, I found it necessary to allow space for students to express grief, complexity, sudden transition, and subsequent trauma. I think the more authentic we are with recognizing how these external events may affect us helps support our students in validating their own feelings and navigating complex issues.

In my research regarding neurodivergent students, current studies indicate student success is tied to supportive, understanding instructors. Negative faculty attitudes and lack of awareness are the major barriers to success for students with disabilities (Dowrick et al., 2005 as cited in Sniatecki et al., 2015, p. 260). To succeed, students with ASD, for example, will require support from understanding faculty members who are responsive to the unique academic and social needs of students with ASD (Austin & Peña, 2017, p. 18). Another factor in pursuit of equity and inclusion amongst student populations is the sense of belonging.

In his book Belonging: The Science of Creating Connections and Bridging Divides, Cohen (2022) discusses his research about how to establish connection in all areas of life. Recently, I attended a webinar, sponsored by Norton Publishing, where Cohen discussed his book and strategies to bridge barriers. One effective strategy he discussed was the concept of wise feedback, based upon his and others’ research. According to Yeager et al. (2014), “Wise feedback increased students’ likelihood of submitting a revision of an essay (Study 1) and improved the quality of their final drafts (Study 2). Effects were generally stronger among African American students than among White students, and particularly strong among African Americans who felt more mistrusting of school.” In the study, in addition to commenting on the students’ essays with suggestions for improvement and typical words of encouragement, wise feedback consisted of the statement: “I’m giving you these comments because I have very high expectations and I know that you can reach them” (Yeager et al., 2014). The result? The simple intervention “closed the racial achievement gap in this sample by nearly 40%” (Yeager et al., 2014). In addition to wise feedback to foster belonging, Cohen also indicated students need to feel a sense of three things in our classrooms: “You are not alone. You have potential. We are going to do this together.”

Now, I’ve started to include wise feedback in all of my comments on student essays. Additionally, I have included the three statements about belonging at the top of each of my Canvas course home pages in hope of fostering belonging and supporting success for all students.

References
Austin, K. S., & Peña, E. V. (2017). Exceptional faculty members who responsively teach students with autism spectrum disorders [Abstract from ERIC]. Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 30(1), 17-32.
Cohen, G. L. (2022). Belonging: The Science of Creating Connection and Bridging Divides. New York, NY: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
Sniatecki, J. L., Perry, H. B., & Snell, L. H. (2015). Faculty attitudes and knowledge regarding college students with disabilities. Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 28(3), 259-275.
Yaeger, D. S. et al., (2014). Breaking the cycle of mistrust: Wise interventions to provide critical feedback across the racial divide. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General. 143, 804–824.

“The Greatest Love of All” by Whitney Houston, The Voice, represents my career in education. As a kid, my favorite musical artists were tied to the music my parents listened to: Michael Jackson, Paul Simon, Tina Turner, Willie Nelson, Jim Croce, Elton John, Dolly Parton, Julio Iglesias, Carly Simon, Bob Seger, Whitney Houston, and anything from Andrew Lloyd Weber, among others. My mom, a teacher, used to play “The Greatest Love of All” all the time, mostly while cleaning house and belting along. She used to say, “See, Roxanna, always love yourself, depend on yourself, and never walk in anyone’s shadows.” It goes without saying that my mom is my hero. As a child, I wanted to be just like her (as an adult, I can only hope to be just like her).

In our house, like many, school and education were paramount. In fact, I had a kid table set up in the kitchen with four chairs where I used to sit my dolls, Hermosa (my beloved first Cabbage Patch Kid purchased at Smitty’s on Baseline and McClintock) and Lupé (a life size child mannequin my great grandmother from Mexico gifted me), in the front row while I would “teach” them and play school. I always imagined being a teacher like my mom and following in her footsteps, especially when Whitney croons:

I believe the children are our future
Teach them well and let them lead the way
Show them all the beauty they possess inside
Give them a sense of pride to make it easier
Let the children’s laughter remind us how we used to be.

For my sixth grade most famous person project, I even wrote Whitney a letter to let her know of these important matters and my plans to teach the children well. My memory does not serve me, but I’m fairly certain she sent me a signed glossy 8X10?

Today, I believe this song is subconsciously woven into the forefront of why I pursued a career in education. That, and I failed out of pre-med my freshman year… but, that story is definitely for another time.