Tag Archives: teaching

Write6x6

“Bad” Teaching, “Good” Teacher?

Leave a comment

In a previous Write 6X6 season, I wrote about my teaching heroes (Teaching Inspiration En Pointe and Just a Girl in Senior English). In those essays I waxed nostalgic about teachers who were undeniably “good.” Hallmark movies could be made about them all, “She had solid pedagogy” could be written on their tombstones.

So, I’m not sure why another set of teachers came to mind when asked this week, “Is there anyone in education you felt was exemplary in teaching, learning, or student success?” I’ve studied teaching for the last 38 years, and I know all the qualities that would be on the “good teacher checklist.” But sometimes teachers go off-the-good-book, so to speak, and their students can be all the better for it.

In my doctoral program, I took Research Methods in the Learning Sciences with a highly-respected and highly-introverted professor. She had a funny habit of curling up like a cat on a desk in the front of the room and lecturing from her scratching post podium. And as with all doctoral courses, Research Methods had a heavy reading load.

In one of the first weeks of class, we all filed in as the professor vaulted her tiny frame above us. She started class by asking, “What are your reactions to this week’s readings?” I don’t remember if we were all shy/didn’t do the reading/were still asleep from an all-nighter, but none of us spoke. She employed the good-teacher tactic of using wait time, and then promptly, but not unkindly, announced, “Well, if you all don’t have something to share, class is over.”

She matter-of-factly padded her way out of class, and we all just sat slack-jawed. What just happened?

The good-teacher checklist would dictate the professor should have offered scaffolded prompts to get us talking. She should have used encouraging words to help us take risks. But the effect of her walk-out was the same: We all came prepared to discuss the reading in every class moving forward.

Her strategy only worked because she knew her students. She knew we were a bunch of highly motivated (read: somewhat neurotic) PhD candidates. And when she wordlessly left the room, she communicated loud and clear, “You are responsible for your own learning!” I personally would never do the walk-out with my own students. But this experience reminds me of the importance of transferring the responsibility of learning to the student.

Another professor in the same doctoral program was a renowned qualitative scholar. It was amazing that she was still teaching 1) because she was world famous, and 2) she had a very interesting (read: strange) approach to teaching: She would sit in front of the room with notes she had handwritten in a big book and read them . . . verbatim . . . for over an hour . . . in each and every class! The good-teacher checklist would not be amused.

I don’t know how she did it, but she made it work. She would read for a bit, take off her glasses, and chuckle to herself about some aspect of what she just read. She was provocative – challenging all of us quantitative folks by saying our numbers had just as much potential for bias as the ethnographic methods she taught us. In her own little weird way, she roped us all in as she recited her notes class after class.

I would never straight-on read notes to my students and attempt to pass it off as teaching. But I am reminded that I don’t have to be the entertaining dancing monkey for my students that sometimes I feel compelled to be. I’m not sure any student ever stitched these professors’ names on a pillow, but I believe we all benefited from their unconventional (read: not research-based) instructional approaches. And this former-kindergarten teacher learned to have elevated expectations for college students who are ultimately responsible for their own learning.

 
Write6x6

Teaching to Excite

Leave a comment

From our prompts, I found myself thinking about one of my favorite teachers. I thought my first favorite teacher would probably have a lot to do with discovering the fun of learning – and I was enthusiastic about learning right from the start. So, Mrs. Salter, my third grade teacher, came to mind, who introduced me to Brighty of the Grand Canyon, (whose shiny nose I have now seen and touched on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon – shiny because of all of the little kids and grown kids who have touched the wonderful nose that Marguerite Henry brought to life for so many) and Misty of Chincoteague Island, another of the many Henry books. But then I realized, I started with books much earlier than that, and I really should give credit to someone who taught me, but was not considered my teacher – my father’s roommate from college – Jim Jensen, who ultimately became a college professor in English.

I always enjoyed having Jim visit. He drove a Karmann Ghia, which I thought was very exotic, and to an extent, still do. Every time he came to our house and visited my parents, both of whom he knew from high school, if not earlier, he always brought me a book as a present. Nothing fancy but a Golden Book of some sort, and I ended up putting my name in all of my books even though I technically did not know how to write yet. I always started with the verticals and the slants and horizontal lines were added more creatively.

Yup, looking below, I knew I’d get mixed up from the first to the second N but after I had done it, I’d know it was wrong. Somehow, I couldn’t cross the vertical lines correctly twice in a row. I had no control or memory of how to do it at that age. And then the E had several lines across it, going down, but I never knew quite how many. More than two, but, in this example, obviously five was too many.

Anyway, Jim got to sleep on an air mattress in our attic, which I also thought was very exotic. I also noticed that when I looked at the air mattress in the morning it no longer had any air in it – so thinking back, it was probably the worst possible “bed” for comfort and little more than sleeping on the floor.

Learning What to and Not to Do

It wasn’t until I moved to Arizona that I heard the word Lifelong Learner, but knew that I was one, but had never heard the expression. It was something that I suggest to all of my students. You are not just learning in this class. You are always learning, and you will learn from every job or opportunity you have whether or not you like that job – so pay attention. Coming from so many different jobs over the years, retail sales, draftsman, receptionist, manager, editor, teacher, word processor, musician, and writer, among other jobs that I don’t even remember – I did know one thing – food service would be a disaster – so I never attempted that. The important thing was that I always paid attention, even if it meant that I would learn not to do something in a particular way because it didn’t make sense to do it the way “they” were doing it.

Favorite Authors

I appreciate some of our 6×6 authors mentioning Ray Bradbury. I went through as much of his stuff as I could find when I was younger, and loved being reminded of that journey, including “Fahrenheit 451,” among others. I’ve tried to read everyone’s work in 6×6 this spring because I’ve felt in previous years people weren’t trying to read each other’s works. I decided to make sure that I did. It’s the spirit of the thing.

I’ve mentioned a few of my favorite current authors, Louise Penny, a Canadian author, who created a wonderful arc between a number of books, to tell a much larger story, Mick Herron, of Slough Horses or Slough House fame, I’ve read even more arcs from his books, and the way he can create an introduction using a spirit is beyond inspirational. If I could write a book, I’d like to write like he writes, but I don’t think I have the talent. He also has short stories that are part of that very large arc, so I really have to pay attention when I read him because he uses so many word references to the back story of characters. My favorite line of his was when an individual was trying to dial a phone in an emergency and he created this beautiful play on words, “his fingers felt like thumbs, his thumbs like bananas.” Who hasn’t been there! Malcolm Gladwell can tell you why we can be “all thumbs” when the going gets tough – it’s psychological! John Camp (I mentioned his pen name in a different writing, but his Pulitzer is under this name), from the St. Paul Pioneer Press, whose works I simply devour – I can’t put them down. I have to re-read them later because I try to read to go to sleep, but find myself still reading at 3 a.m.! I’ve read ALL of his books. Michael Connelly is another fabulous writer. I started with the Bosch books, and have since read all of his books twice. That got me through a broken shoulder where I was in bed for the better part of three months.

I no longer put my name on the inside of books, written correctly or not, and most of what I now read is in a Kindle because my hands and neck can’t tolerate holding large books anymore. We all make adjustments; some are just to allow us to continue reading more and more from those that first introduced us to the excitement of books and learning and where authors can take us on their journeys – Berlin, London, Toronto, Brittany – and I didn’t even mention that French author, or the English one, that put Provence on everyone’s map!

 
Write6x6

My Office Accoutrements

2 Comments

I was on a Zoom call recently when someone looked at my background and said “Is that real?” We were in the process of setting up, and getting our meeting started so I didn’t realize she was talking to me, so I didn’t answer. (“You talkin’ to me?!”) But I digress.

As a matter of fact, my Zoom background isn’t a background at all. It is my office. It took years to learn that others used something similar as a background. In my office I have books. Behind me (while I’m sitting here writing this) looms a large two-tier floor to ceiling bookcase, and that was what she was seeing. But that was only one wall. I have two more walls of bookcases. In fact, my home is filled with books, and books, and books. Outside my office I have more floor to ceiling bookcases, which house hundreds of my husband’s books. The ones in my office are textbooks, reference books, music scores, and books and anthologies of poetry (mostly public domain) of poems I use or have used in my music. Anything I’m currently reading in fiction, Mick Herron, Ann Cleeves, or John Sanford (you have to know that reference or you won’t get the fact that he’s a Pulitzer-prize winning reporter with over forty books); or non-fiction, Malcolm Gladwell, for example, is in my Kindle, quietly holding hundreds more books. I don’t read so much as devour. But again, I digress.

Where my office doesn’t have books I have artwork, mostly paintings by my mother, whose work I greatly admire, in oils, watercolors, or pastels. When we moved her out of her home recently, we had to deal with her office – her art room. I’ll never forget when I mentioned to my husband that my mother won “Best in Show,” he glibly shot back, “What breed did she register under?” because he knew she had a fistful of ribbons that she’d won in competitions over the years. Along with ribbons were paints, paint brushes, paintings, ideas for paintings, and books about painting. We soon realized this was part of a floating iceberg – there was more art and were more canvases squirreled away in other parts of the house! She is 91, and now living in an apartment. She went to an art class recently given at her facility but pretended not to know anything so as not to show anyone up. Very Minnesotan of her – not a surprise since she was born and raised there. But again, I digress.

I happen to be very visual – and visually pleasing things help me to write and think. Sometimes I’m not looking at something as much as staring, thinking of the words I’m trying to elicit from my sometimes-slow-as-molasses brain. On my desk is a two-foot-high sculpture which I lugged on a plane, stowed between my feet coming back from Houston. I love it and am happy I went to the trouble to get it to my very first office, and every subsequent office since.

Minnesota Nice

I have finally tucked my degrees on a wall next to the aforementioned large bookcase when I moved to Arizona, but you won’t see them front and center. They would only be slightly noticeable if you completely entered the room. So, if you just stick your head in you surely won’t see them. And on a Zoom call they’re just out of focus enough that you can’t read them either. (That’s so “Minnesota” of me. You work your buns off only to place your degrees in a spot that people “might” see, but again, they “might not.” So, that’s being very Minnesotan, understated, but still honest, a bit like my mother, an award-winning artist but not about to show up a budding volunteer art teacher who was providing the little art class to other ninety-year-olds.) Again, digressing…

Office Particulars

I, too, have a stack of legal pads – I love legal pads (but prefer other colors to yellow if I have the option) and love to write things down. It’s a mnemonic, a memory tool, and I’m an inveterate doodler as well. So, somehow between the computer, the occasionally working printer – which is virtually brand new – and my legal pads I get my work completed. They all sit happily or grumpily on my desk (depending on threatening deadlines) along with a calendar of course deadlines, which week we happen to be in, and what my students’ imminent deadlines are.

Technically I have two offices and three desks. Two desks at angles to each other, in beautiful cherry, a wood that is not currently in vogue, but I don’t care. A cherry drafting table sits downstairs and looks at me imploringly under heavy brows when I descend the staircase. It sits next to the grand piano. It used to scold me, but now we have an “understanding.” When I feel like using it – I do. First plan regarding moving in, do not dream of moving a grand piano upstairs! Very good plan. At least the piano doesn’t have an attitude.

I mentioned going through my mother’s artwork and her office. Unfortunately, there will come a time when someone has to do that for me – and my music. Hopefully I’ll get to it before then, but one never knows. There are copyrights involved so there is some consolation on getting something for their trouble. Some of my music is in the closet with extra shelving. Some of the music is in a computer on pdfs (which computer does that reside in is the real question), some hard copies in file folders based on a previous method of storage. We (my husband and I) are trying to decide the next best way to store scores, parts, and recordings that go with each piece when it needs to go out to performers or conductors. This decision came after spending Christmas Break frantically searching through several computers, other closets in other rooms which hold older pieces, not to mention downstairs near the piano, where it might have also been, in an effort to find my second string quartet and vocal chamber piece that had to be sent RIGHT NOW.

My office was better organized when I taught at Hamline University because I had a secretary and an honors student assistant. But that was many pieces ago and a different institution and state. I simply have more music, larger pieces, and need a new organizational system. But it’s the middle of the semester, I’m working on two CD projects, and helping my students with their deadlines. I’ve finally gotten a couple of these 6×6 writings under my belt, which I’ve been owing. My accoutrements are scowling a little less as I walk into the room. What I probably need for my office is an assistant or perhaps less judgmental furniture . . . but I digress.

 
Write6x6

Neurodiversity and Trauma

Leave a comment

We likely all have a certain type of neurodiverse learner in our classrooms — the student with a history of childhood trauma. Whereas definitions of trauma vary and our understanding of the effects of trauma are constantly being updated, one thing is clear: Complex trauma physically changes the brain.

Although trauma manifests in many ways, one hallmark effect is the development of an overactive stress-response system. This can lead to hypervigilance, attentional difficulties, distrust of teachers as authority figures, loss of self-efficacy, and a host of other issues that interfere with learning.

The infographic below outlines some practices college instructors can employ to more effectively teach students who have experienced trauma. The good news is these are not instructional “add-ons,” but rather universal best teaching practices that benefit all learners.

View Trauma-Sensitive Teaching Practices for Higher Education on Canva

Do you have a trauma-informed teaching strategy that works well for you? Add it to the comments!

 
Write6x6

The Art of Intentional Planning

1 Comment

Last fall, I went on a weekend getaway to Hood River, Oregon to hang with friends and take an art journaling class. The art studio hosting the class was the last place I’d expect to stumble on an organizational productivity tool that would rock my teaching existence! I am quite sure I will never be the same.

Okay, maybe that was artistic license. But after our class, my friends and I perused the studio’s gift shop, and in-between paintbrushes and canvases I found these lovely daily planner sheets by Ramona & Ruth.

I used to start each day in response mode. Now, before I open my e-mail and let in the fresh hell of whatever online emergencies occurred overnight, I start the day with this planner. The first section I fill out is my daily intention:

In this small box I write something meaningful that I want to remember throughout the day. Some of my intentions have been to take two mindful breaks during the day or to remember perfection is an illusion.

The next block I fill in is my time schedule:

I use a process outlined in the book Happier Hour of writing down not only my obligations but my commitments to self. So, right next to a committee meeting might be an appointment for a 10-minute meditation. (Actually, maybe before and after the committee meeting!)

After that, I enter my tasks to complete in the day:

What I love about this planner is the ability to identify three priorities. What I hate about this planner is that there are too many damn lines. But, back to the love; I get a little dopamine surge when I am able to check off each task as “done.” I often think I can accomplish more than I actually can. Now I limit the amount of tasks I put on my daily list.

Thus, it feels very satisfying to put some tasks in this section:

Finally, in the bottom left corner is the opportunity to write something for which I am grateful:

(Today, I am grateful to be able to submit this blog post just under the wire!)

I don’t love this tool because it makes me a more productive teaching automaton. Rather, it helps me to have more balance in my days and be more reasonable in my self-expectations. It allows me to proactively plan my day rather than being led around by immediate drama.

Does this all work perfectly? Absolutely not. But my life-in-balance is sort of a sculpture I work on each day . . . shaping here, chiseling there.

 
Write6x6

Be Kind, Rewind

Leave a comment

Dawn Gibbs hit me with that saying today while I was in the 05 English Office this afternoon. I was reading a sign on Dr. Jennifer Lane’s door that said something about being kind. We laughed about how old we are to remember that saying from the Blockbuster VHS tapes we used to rent. She actually had to remind me of the saying even though I’m older than her, but it got me thinking about my students and how young they are. It’s easy to forget they generally have no idea what the heck we are talking about when we make references to things. I can’t even remember what I was talking about, but one student spoke up after I made a comment about something and said, “Does anyone in this room look old enough to be alive in the 80s?” I did the math in my head and looked around the room. I guess he had a point. They were all traditional college students: 18-23, born between 2000-2005.

We had a good laugh at my expense, but it was all good. It gave us an opportunity to chit-chat a bit before we started the lesson. I’ve been teaching so long, that I don’t really think about how I build community in my classes anymore. I’m a competitive person by nature and I love to challenge students, but I usually make them do it in groups. Our classrooms are set up in 4 computer station pods, so technically I already have groups before we do anything. I’ll point at a pod (group) and say if all four people in this group can give me an answer, you can be top dog this week. No one even knows what top dog means, but they’re into it. “Name four NFL teams on the western side of the US.” “Name animals that walk on two legs.” I just make up stuff on the fly which is usually silly, and we debate the prompts before we settle on a good. It’s classic wasting class time. But is it really?

Of course not. We’re building community and building a sense of belonging in the class. I build in 15 minutes for questions and chit-chat at the beginning of each class where I ask them questions and practice their names. And at the end of the class in their digital exit ticket, I ask them three things. List one thing you learned today, one question you still have, and any random fact about anything. I’m always amused by what they write on these exit tickets. They like to joke and give me a hard time about asking dumb questions or how I still can’t pronoun their name, but thanks for trying. I try to keep it light, so students feel comfortable asking for help if they need it. It’s not really anything that’s planned (aside from the time). It’s just my natural way of teaching.

AI, ChaptGPT, grading, Write6x6

Can AI Grade My Essays For Me?

Leave a comment

I made a joke with Beth a few days ago about how I wished AI would grade my essays for me. And then I really thought about that, and now I can’t stop. I mean seriously if AI can write the students’ papers for them, what about us? Why can’t it grade papers too? Well, guess what. It can. I tried it. Shhh. Now don’t tell on me. I used both ChatGPT and Microsoft’s tool built into Bing. GPT is much better.

First off, it was a lot of work, probably equal to if I’d just graded them myself, but the benefit was far better for the student. It spat out paragraph long feedback on what was wrong, how the paper did or didn’t meet each rubric standard, and how to improve the work. I was simply amazed. If I were to leave that kind of feedback on a paper, it would take me days to grade instead of hours. As it is, I’ve already moved to grading by recording my feedback, so I can say more and make it easier for students to understand what I’m saying, but this was amazing.

But like a said. It wasn’t easy or quick. I first began by asking the AI to find a rubric for a news article using a summary lead and following the inverted pyramid style. It quickly pulled up a rubric that was adequate, but it was only on a 10-point scale. I used it anyway to see how it would work. Then my next prompt asked Maud, remember, I named her Maud in my last post. I asked her to grade this news article using that rubric, and pasted in a student’s news article. Surprisingly, it worked. She put the two prompts together and graded the article. It was okay, but there wasn’t much detail and it didn’t really meet the standards I was looking for. I decided instead to ask Maud to build me a rubric and added the essential things and the total points I needed. She created this.

Okay, that was interesting, but could she grade a news article using that rubric? I wondered. Yep! She gave the article a 47/60, provided the tally from the rubric AND added this feedback:

Strengths:

  • The article follows the inverted pyramid structure.
  • The information provided is relevant to the target audience.
  • The article includes quotes from reliable sources.

Weaknesses:

  • The lead is weak and could benefit from being more focused.
  • The article could use more clarity in its presentation of information.
  • The article could be more concise.
  • The article could be more explicit in identifying biases or opinions.

Suggestions for Improvement:

  • The lead should be more specific and focused on the key point of the article.
  • The article should be more clear and concise, with shorter paragraphs and simpler language.
  • The author should explicitly identify any biases or opinions and explain how they might influence the article’s content.
  • The author should consider additional sources to provide a more complete understanding of the issue.

Crazy, right? I probably would have scored it a bit higher, but I noticed Maud didn’t say anything about grammar and punctuation in her feedback and I found a couple of specific errors, so I asked her about them. I typed in, “What about grammar and punctuation?” She replied:

As an AI language model, I don’t have the capability to fully analyze grammar and punctuation, but I can tell you that there are a few errors in the article. For example, in the sentence “This issue goes for not only students but members of the community who live downtown,” the phrase “goes for” should be replaced with “applies to.” Additionally, there are a few instances where punctuation could be improved for clarity and readability. Overall, however, the article is well-written and understandable.

She was right. In another instance, Maud pointed out two run-on sentences in the article and offered a suggestion for how to fix it. Amazing.

Yep, I’m obsessed, but that took a lot of work. In fact, I paused playing so I could quickly grade those news articles and get them back to students. This was going to take all day. First, Maud would forget my rubric after a few follow-up questions about the article she graded, so I’d have to start all over. Then sometimes she would ignore my rubric and just give a paragraph analysis of the article or she would leave out key elements. Basically, she was not consistent and I had to keep retraining her. She gave good feedback, but not the same feedback for each student.

song, Write6x6

Yep, I Get It Now

Leave a comment

I was so excited to start Write 6×6 last week. I was raring to go. Ready to put pen to paper. Super excited. And then I got the writing prompt. Whaaat! A song?

What song represents your career in education, your evolution as a teacher, or your approach to student success?

Lisa

My enthusiasm was immediately crushed. I couldn’t think of a song. I mean how does Coi Leray’s “Players” have to do with my career in education? The lyrics constantly playing in my head, “Yeah, ’cause girls is players too…” Am I player? What does that mean? I can’t even think of another song, and this one is so not appropriate. Sigh.

It got me thinking though. How often do we crush our students’ enthusiasm in our classes? Does it happen on day one as Lisa did mine? Ha! Just kidding, Lisa. But truly does it happen at all? The biggest culprit I see is grades. Often with grades on those first few big assignments, a poor performance on the first few without the others in the grade book to weigh them out can be crushing. I often have students ask, how did my grade go from 95% to 72% overnight? Well, I graded something, and you didn’t do well. Crushed!

Students don’t always get the math, so seeing their grade drop drastically is not encouraging. So years ago I changed my strategy. I still crushed my students if they didn’t do well, but I introduced a policy to not only help students learn from their mistakes but also to keep them motivated and in the game. Assignments submitted on time and complete are eligible for a rewrite. They can resubmit the assignment within a week and earn a better score. Rewrites are optional, but they get feedback on the work and an opportunity to improve and learn. Canvas now makes this convenient for me to suggest rewrites with the Reassign button in Speedgrader.

I encourage them to submit a rewrite by giving them clear feedback using a rubric and comments on the assignment. Often times it’s a simple fix that students resubmit right away. Other times it’s a bit more involved. But the overall grade in the course bounced back up after a rewrite grade is entered, and hopefully, students are motivated to keep going unless, of course, they get stumped by a strange writing prompt and just give up without trying. Yep, I get it now.

career, Living, risk-taking, Write6x6

GCC in 2033

Leave a comment

For this last week of GCC’s Write 6X6 challenge, the suggested prompt was to write about where we see GCC 5 or 10 years from now – a “vision,” if you will. This prompt brought up another vision I had almost 10 years ago – one that changed my life in profound ways.

Before anyone gets excited, I am a scientist. I don’t suffer tales of the paranormal gladly. I had a vision about 10 years ago that absolutely came true, but plenty of my other visions did not. For example, I am not now, nor have I ever been, a Radio City Rockette. But I digress . . .

The day of my vision started by walking my daughter Taylor to her first day in a new job at a Manhattan advertising agency. A few months earlier, Taylor took an uncharacteristic leap and decided to move to the Big Apple. Tears filled my eyes as we hugged a block away from her office, lest any of her new colleagues see mommy walking her to work.

After we parted, I decided to take a stroll on the High Line, a public park built on a historic, elevated rail line. Full of public art and flora and fauna (okay, birds and squirrels) right next to the life-sounds of the city, walking the High Line makes for a brain buzzy with introspection. I thought about Taylor’s exciting new career — and the one I was currently enduring as an assistant research professor.

View on the High Line

Right there on the High Line somewhere between 26th Street and the 10th Avenue crossing, the thought flashed, “I want to teach at a community college!” I then spent the next hour or so going over in my mind how such a position would feed my soul. (Yep, I said soul – this scientist has one, too.) This wasn’t the first time I considered community college teaching, but it was this one particular vision that spurred me to action.

I had one eensy problem. The leadership in my then-department had a policy: If you apply for another position, you must resign in order to receive a recommendation. You know where this is going. I quit my full-time job. With benefits. And a retirement plan. To become an adjunct. If my mother were alive to see it, she would have muttered, “Mary, Mary, Mary . . .”

Shortly after my decision to leap out into the CC job market, the net in the form of an adjunct gig at GCC magically appeared. (Did I really just write about magic?) More adjunct opportunities came from SCC and NAU. I even returned to ASU to lecture for a couple years before I landed in the residential position I am in now. My point is it’s been a long road to get here, but I have never been happier and more fulfilled at work.

My vision of GCC in the next 10 years is that we continue to grow in our vibrancy and remain as wonderfully student-centered as I believe we are today. My vision includes a faculty who feel valued and energized. There’s a fun book entitled, If You Don’t Feed the Teachers, They Eat the Students. My hope for GCC is that all faculty feel fed so that they may be fully present for students.

Five years elapsed between my initial vision and inking my employment papers with GCC, but every minute of the struggle to get here was worth it. Whatever we do collectively to move GCC forward over the next 10 years is worth every bead of sweat if it helps our students to live out their own visions of the lives they want as well.

 

May GCC be as vibrant as this mural on the High Line!

The post GCC in 2033 appeared first on My Love of Learning.

career, Living, risk-taking, Write6x6

GCC in 2033

Leave a comment

For this last week of GCC’s Write 6X6 challenge, the suggested prompt was to write about where we see GCC 5 or 10 years from now – a “vision,” if you will. This prompt brought up another vision I had almost 10 years ago – one that changed my life in profound ways.

Before anyone gets excited, I am a scientist. I don’t suffer tales of the paranormal gladly. I had a vision about 10 years ago that absolutely came true, but plenty of my other visions did not. For example, I am not now, nor have I ever been, a Radio City Rockette. But I digress . . .

The day of my vision started by walking my daughter Taylor to her first day in a new job at a Manhattan advertising agency. A few months earlier, Taylor took an uncharacteristic leap and packed up to move to the Big Apple. Tears filled my eyes as we hugged a block away from her office, lest any of her new colleagues see mommy walking her to work.

After we parted, I decided to take a stroll on the High Line, a public park built on a historic, elevated rail line. Full of public art and flora and fauna (okay, birds and squirrels) right next to the life-sounds of the city, walking the High Line makes for a brain buzzy with introspection. I thought about Taylor’s exciting new career — and the one I was currently enduring as an assistant research professor.

View on the High Line

Right there on the High Line somewhere between 26th Street and the 10th Avenue crossing, the thought flashed, “I want to teach at a community college!” I then spent the next hour or so going over in my mind how such a position would feed my soul. (Yep, I said soul – this scientist has one, too.) This wasn’t the first time I considered community college teaching, but it was this one particular vision that spurred me to action.

I had one eensy problem. The leadership in my then-department had a policy: If you apply for another position, you must resign in order to receive a recommendation. You know where this is going. I quit my full-time job. With benefits. And a retirement plan. To become an adjunct. If my mother were alive to see it, she would have muttered, “Mary, Mary, Mary . . .”

Shortly after my decision to leap out into the CC job market, the net in the form of an adjunct gig at GCC magically appeared. (Did I really just write about magic?) More adjunct opportunities came from SCC and NAU. I even returned to ASU to lecture for a couple years before I landed in the residential position I am in now. My point is it’s been a long road to get here, but I have never been happier and more fulfilled at work.

My vision of GCC in the next 10 years is that we continue to grow in our vibrancy and remain as wonderfully student-centered as I believe we are today. My vision includes a faculty who feel valued and energized. There’s a wonderful book entitled, If You Don’t Feed the Teachers, They Eat the Students. My hope for GCC is that all faculty feel fed so that they may be fully present for students.

Five years elapsed between my initial vision and inking my employment papers with GCC, but every minute of the struggle to get here was worth it. Whatever we do collectively to move GCC forward over the next 10 years is worth every bead of sweat if it helps our students to live out their own visions of the lives they want as well.

 

May GCC be as vibrant as this mural on the High Line!

The post GCC in 2033 appeared first on My Love of Learning.