Tag Archives: Write 6×6

Teaching to Excite

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!

 

My Office Accoutrements

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.

 

NeuroDiversity – Changing Our World

They told her that her organs were shutting down and at some point they would have to deliver the baby – no matter what. The answer to the question was that her life was to be spared – period – but they would hold off as long as they could because it was still too early.

Each nurse greeted the woman with “You will not seize on my shift!” and the woman thought, “I didn’t even know that was an option,” lying there, the clock not ticking but jumping hours, missing parts of days until they said, “Baby’s in trouble.” It was said, back then, surgeons had less than three minutes in this situation; I’ve heard from some it’s more like 90 seconds before things can go incredibly wrong. Timing is critical.

The baby remained in the hospital for three and a half months; first in the NICU, (the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, in an isolette) then the Special Care nursery – in an isolette without a top – now that he could regulate his temperature better. He never made it into the “regular” nursery – the one that everyone visits where they have balloons and ooh and aah over recent deliveries. “Ooh, I think she has your nose;” “No, I think he looks more like his father,” “Well, at least he doesn’t look like Aunt Edna!”

Fast forward down the road about twenty years. One of the doctors of this million dollar-March of Dimes baby (and yes, that’s probably what he cost – in 1990s dollars) mentioned that people (referring to colleges because the mother was having difficulty with the college’s Disability Services) would never know how far the boy had come because these individuals couldn’t imagine where his road had started at one pound five and one half ounces.

The starting point. . . How much one has been through and now that individual’s road with varying difficulties with sensory problems, learning, and communication issues, has led to the doorstep of a college. Speaking as a college professor, I’ve found that the colleges (and universities where I’ve taught) seem to concentrate on the doorstep. It’s easy not to admit someone, but to truly admit someone when that individual has special needs or is on the spectrum might be a better place to start on that road.

Not realizing how tremendously far an individual has come, remember, timing is critical, the obstacles overcome, the communication deficits struggled with and achieved is really where the conversation begins. The physicians know how incredibly smart that student is because of testing to the nth degree, witnessing the determination to achieve even while lying in an isolette trying simply to gain a few ounces. Remember, the next time someone shows up on your doorstep, that individual’s IQ might be equal to or higher than yours, but the road that person took may have been riddled with unbelievable obstacles and may have taken much longer to get to and through this doorstep. It won’t show in traditional ways.

“If we make it difficult, or at least, not any easier, maybe he’ll go away.” Is that how you want to be remembered – for making it difficult for someone else to learn? I’ve been surprised by unlikely sources as I witnessed this happen, but I believe we need to help people learn. I know that GCC has been very good in helping students, but I’m casting my net at a wider audience.

Dr. Temple Grandin, the gifted autistic author, scholar, and expert animal behaviorist, credits those with autism (just one of the many kinds of disabilities in our world) as the people who truly change our world through their new ideas. Think about it.

Remember the March of Dimes and Autism Awareness.

Dr. Anne Kilstofte volunteers with Silver Spur Therapeutic Riding Center of Cave Creek for children and adults with SPECIAL NEEDS and works very hard to ensure that her students’ disability needs are met in her Musicology classes at GCC. She is pictured below at a fundraiser for SSTRC with “Rhoney.”

 

AI: The Hype and the Challenge of Critical Thinking

Generative AI is here to stay.  In light of this, there are all sorts of voices telling us to use and adapt to this new intellectual terrain.  My goal is this post is to not add to the discussion in regards to how to use the various AI tools.  Rather, my modest goal is to express reservations about the alleged unending glories of the seemingly unalterable “singularity” which is the eschatological dream of some.

My thinking was recently stimulated in this direction by reading Robert J. Marks’ book, Non-Computable You: What You Do That Artificial Intelligence Never Will.  Dr. Marks is Distinguished Professor of Engineering in the Depart of Engineering and Computer Science at Baylor University.  Furthermore, he was the founding Editor-in-Chief of IEEE Transaction on Neural Networks, one of the most prestigious technical journals for peer-reviewed AI research.  In other words, he is well-qualified to offer an assessment of the current state of AI research. 

Marks argues that, though AI is powerful in computing power and does offer some surprises, there is a fundamental gap in terms of true creativity.  In place of the well-known Turing Test, Marks draws attention to the “Lovelace Test” as more effective test for software creativity.  Named after Ada Lovelace (1815-1852), who is considered by many to be the first computer programmer, the Lovelace Test defines software creativity as the ability of a program to do something “that cannot be explained by the programmer or an expert in computer code.”[1]  Marks claims, along with others, that the Lovelace Test has not been met by current AI systems.

In spite of the failure of AI systems to generate true creativity there are all sorts of claims regarding the future of an AI-enhanced humanity.  As Marks notes, “Many worship at the feet of the exciting new technology and without foundation predict all sorts of new miraculous applications; others preach unavoidable doom and gloom.”[2]  In light of this, chapters five and six of Non-Computable You (which by themselves are worth the price of the book!) are taken up with mitigating the “hype.”  Chapter five is entitled, “The Hype Curve” and Marks graphs the dynamic in the following manner:

Marks explains the details:

  • The launch phase.  In the beginning of the hype curve, newly introduced technology spurs expectations above and beyond reality.  Poorly thought-out forecasts are made.
  • The peak-of-hype phase.  The sky’s the limit.  Imagination runs amok.  Whether negative or positive, hype is born from unbridled speculation.
  • The overreaction-to-immature-technology phase.  As the new technology is vetted and further explored, the realization sets in that some of its early promises can’t be kept.  Rather than calmly adjusting expectations and realizing that immature technology must be given time to ripen, many people become overly disillusioned.
  • The depth-of-cynicism phase. Once the shine is off the apple, limitations are recognized.  Some initial supporters jump ship.  They sell their stock and go looking for a new hype to criticize, believe in, or profit from.
  • The true-user-benefits phase. The faithful—often those whose initial expectations included the realistic possibility of failed promise—carry on and find ways to turn the new technology to useful practice.
  • The asymptote-of-reality phase. The technology lives on in accordance with its true contributions.

A number of examples of the hype curve are given by Marks, including the Segway, cold fusion, and String Theory.  Even in the realm of artificial intelligence it seems as those the hype curve begins to resurface again and again.  What to do?

This is where chapter six, “Twelve Filters for AI Hype Detection,” is so instructive and helpful.  This chapter contains a brief, but masterful, demonstration of the teaching of critical thinking.  And it is precisely this virtue of critical thinking that ought to the mainstay of higher education instruction.  This chapter, although devoted to the topic of AI, has a much broader application.  I cannot reproduce Marks’ entire presentation so I will simply quote his summation provided at the end of the chapter.

The Hype List

In a nutshell, here is the list of twelve things to consider when reading AI news:

  1. Outrageous Claims: If it sounds outrageous, maybe it is.  Recognize that AI is riding high on the hype curve and that exaggerated reporting will be more hyperbolic than for more established technologies.
  2. Hedgings: Look for hedge words like “promising,” “developing,” and “potentially,” which implicitly avoid saying anything definite.
  3. Scrutiny Avoidance: Any claim that such-and-such an AI advancement is a few years away may be made with sincerity but avoids immediate scrutiny.  Short attention spans mean that when the sell date on the promise rolls around, few people are likely to notice.  Remember the old proverb often attributed to quantum physicist Niels Bohr: “Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future.”
  4. Consensus: Beware of claims of consensus.  Remember Michael Crichton’s claim that consensus regarding new technology and science is the “first refuge of scoundrels.”
  5. Entrenched Ideology: Many AI claims conform to the writer’s ideology.  AI claims from those adherents to materialism are constrained to exclude a wide range of rational reasoning that is external to their materialistic silos.
  6. Seductive Silos: Claiming AI is conscious or self-aware without term definition can paint the AI as being more than it is.  Seductive semantics is the stuff of marketing.  In the extreme, it can misrepresent.
  7. Seductive Optics and the Frankenstein Complex: AI can be wrapped in a package that tries to increase the perception of its significance.  Unrecognized, the psychological impact of the Frankenstein Complex and the Uncanny Valley Hypothesis can amplify perception far beyond technical reality.  The human-appearing body in which a chatbot resides is secondary to its driving AI.
  8. True-ish: Beware of those tricky headlines and claims that are almost true but intended to deceive.
  9. Citation Bluffing: Web articles and even scholarly journal papers can exaggerate or blatantly misrepresent the findings of others they cite.  Checking primary sources can ferret out this form of deception.
  10. Small-Silo Ignorance: The source of news and opinion always requires consideration, but those speaking outside of their silo of expertise need to be scrutinized with particular care, especially when the speakers are widely admired for their success in their silo.  Don’t be dazzled by celebrity.  This caution applies to famous actors speaking about politics but also to celebrated physicists speaking about computer science.
  11. Assess the Source: I trust content more from the Wall Street Journal than from politically motivated sites like the Huffington Post or yellow journalism sites like the National Enquirer.  But even if the article appears at a site or periodical that has earned a measure of trust, it’s wise to assess the writer of the article.
  12. Who Benefits?: Remember financial greed, relational desires, and the pursuit of power.  These are the three factors used by police detectives in their investigation of crimes.  They are also good points to remember when considering whether a report on AI is true or hype.  Is there a hidden agenda or emotional blind spot?

As mentioned, this hype-detection list is applicable to a wide range of claims and our students can only be strengthened by inculcating these elements of critical thinking.

AI technologies are here to stay and we must navigate this techno-terrain with wisdom.  Educating students about the hype curve as well as the principles of hype detection will equip them to responsibly interact with the new and emerging technologies.


     [1] Robert J. Marks, Non-Computable You: What You Do That Artificial Intelligence Never Will (Seattle: Discovery Institute Press, 2022), 42.  A more rigorous formulation of the Lovelace Test (LT) is found on page 359 in the endnotes: “Artificial agent A, designed by H, passes LT if and only if (1) A outputs o; (2) A’s outputting o is not the result of a fluke hardware error, but rather the result of processes A can repeat; (3) H (or someone who knows what H knows, and has H’s resources) cannot explain how A produced o.”

     [2] Marks, 102.

 

Office Space as Reflective Space: Who Am I?

When setting up my office space I wrestled with what to put on the walls–what do I want people to see when they come in my office? I meet with numerous students and I wanted the space to be a warm and inviting space that would provide a sense of who I am for those meeting me for the first time. The pictures and items on my walls reveal the diverse sides of who I am.

First, there is a picture of my family taken at my son’s wedding a few years ago. I love my family and this is a reminder that the most important things in life are not found in my office but in the relationships outside of it.

The next set of pictures revolve around Francis Schaeffer–a philosophical thinker. (I am in the Philosophy & Religious Studies Department, after all!)

Schaeffer was a philosopher and public intellectual whose writings I read in high school. He was the motivating factor for me to pursue philosophy and the life of the mind. I keep this quotation from him right above my desk as an inspirational reminder to me….

Next, people will see an art project my daughter and I worked on a few years ago. It’s based on the famous Shroud of Turin and we sought to recreate the image in a unique manner.

I read an article by literature professor, Nathan Wilson, about how he created a replication of the image by painting on a piece of glass and letting the sun bleach out the negative space. In other words, the dark parts of the image are not a result of being put on a light cloth but, rather, the result of a dark cloth being bleached out except for the areas of the image. My daughter and I tried it in our backyard and it worked!

No GCC office would be complete without a Gauchos flag!

The next two pictures reflect a bit of the fun side of who I am. These are also some of the first items students see when they come into my office. The first is a quotation from the movie “Nacho Libre”–a truly great movie!

And, finally, for the superhero enthusiast there is Batman. My friend drew this for me back in 1989. Michael Keaton’s Batman had recently come out and I was a fanatic. I saw the movie twice on the opening day–one time was at 3 am!

Yes, there are the miscellaneous philosophy books and scattered files that accompany any office in our department but the pictures give a picture of who I am in my diversity of personality. They remind me of who I am and I hope give a glimpse of my manifold character to the students who enter.

 

Podcast Power: Happiness

Recently, I have started listening to podcasts by Dr. Laurie Santos titled The Happiness Lab. I have enjoyed learning how our brains are wired to remember negative experiences over positive ones and how we can find happiness in the smallest things. This podcast has not necessarily had a profound impact on my class instruction rather on myself and the kindness I have toward the human condition. 

The Happiness Lab with Dr. Laurie Santos

The Happiness Lab speaks to the stress we put on ourselves and how that stress affects our bodies and minds. I have taught future elementary educators for the past 5 years. They are some of the most dedicated learners I have ever taught. However, they are also some of the most overwhelmed and self-critical students I have encountered. 

By listening to The Happiness Lab I have learned how to create healthier habits within myself and I am sharing what I have learned with my students. My students exhibit the effects of stress and I have found myself suggesting and sharing information from the podcast. Through listening to The Happiness Lab, my desire to help my students has increased to areas outside of the course content.

 

All that Jazz in the Classroom

by Christopher Le

I’ll admit right away that I don’t know much about the intricacies of jazz.

Growing up, my exposure to the genre came mostly from late nights driving home from soccer practice with my dad in his dusty Toyota MR2. At the time, I thought he loved jazz and so I loved it too.

It wasn’t until years later that I learned my dad simply never switched the radio channel over after NPR’s daily news went off the air. I had come to love a genre of music through a thoughtless error, a missed click of the dial.

Mistake or not, jazz music became part of the soundtrack of my life. As I think back on my brief decade of teaching, it is jazz that I go back to. Those cool, drifting melodies that never sound quite the same upon consecutive listens seem to be the perfect analogy for my experiences in the classroom.

If you’re not quite sure what all the fuss is about, maybe let Ryan Gosling explain it to you. In La La Land, Sebastian (Gosling) is telling Mia (Emma Stone) why jazz is so fascinating to him. His descriptions of it match how I view teaching.

“See what’s at stake. I mean, look at this sax player—he just hijacked this song, he’s on his own trip. Every one of these guys is composing, they’re re-arranging, they’re writing, and they’re playing the melody…and so, it’s conflict, and it’s compromise, and it’s just—it’s new! Every time. It’s brand new every night. It’s very, very exciting.”

I mean, c’mon. Tell me that isn’t teaching. You step into the room and you’re trying to teach the competencies, y’know…follow the melody. But as you do, you’re changing and modifying and adapting and making every learning experience different for the students in your classroom. When you’re doing it right, when you’re moving and grooving, no two performances are the same. That’s jazz. That’s teaching.

One jazz standard stands out as my favorite: “All of Me.”  

Countless music legends have moseyed through this song—Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Michael Bublé,—uh, Willie Nelson? Yeah, even Willie Nelson took a stab at the enduring melody.

“All of me, why not take all of me? Can’t you see? I’m no good without you.”

Now, the song itself is about a lover giving themselves over entirely. For me, that idea definitely resonates when I consider how I approach my job. I’ve given everything to this career. For the most part, that’s been a beautiful thing. With teaching, you really do get out what you put in. Putting in everything I have to this job has given me countless memories accompanied by easy smiles.

But, of course, any singular pursuit can lead to a little bit of heartache.

“You took the part that once was my heart. So why not take all of me?”

When I’m on the stage in the classroom, I’m playing so many different roles for my students. It’s enough to leave anyone feeling drained. Sometimes, when I come home and I’ve left all of me in the classroom, there isn’t enough left for my family. We work a brutal job. It takes everything you’ve got to be a good teacher. But it’s hard not to love it when you see the fruits of your labor.

“So why not take all of me?”

 

Joy: An Evolution in Becoming a Teacher at Glendale Community College

written by Dr. Krysten Pampel

I have been teaching since Fall of 2009 and the lyrics in Joy by Andy Grammer are a good representation of my evolution in becoming a teacher at Glendale Community College.

Joy by Andy Grammer (official audio)

I vividly remember my first year teaching and the fear that sat with me on the daily. The weight of being a teacher cannot be articulated in a preservice teacher classroom. It is something you experience when you have students show up in your classroom on the first day of classes. 

Doubt was a constant in those first years of teaching since I was building and creating curriculum with the hope that students would gain the knowledge they needed in order to be successful in the next class. This was a huge challenge and the pressure felt very high to help my students who were looking to move into STEM careers after high school were given all the tools they needed to achieve their academic goals.

In the Fall of 2011, I was accepted into a doctorate program which was a great opportunity but stretched me too thin. I felt sorrow when leaving high school was the best option for me to complete my doctorate degree and have a better balance in my life.  

As a doctorate student I had very limited access to the classroom which kept me grieving the loss of leaving the high school classroom. The ways I connected with college students was significantly different than high school students. Over the years in my doctoral program, I started to change my perspective and found joy as I got closer to finishing my dissertation. 

Pressure entered my teaching evolution when I found out I was pregnant. My due date and my dissertation completion were around the day. I also felt pressure in determining what I wanted to do for work after finishing my degree.

My husband has asked me what job I would take that would make it where I no longer taught at the community college at night. I was so struck by this question because I never realized how much I liked teaching at the community college. I knew that if I got any other job I would be in a constant state of jealousy for those working at the community college inspiring college students in the classroom. 

As I applied for a full time position at Glendale Community College, I started to get excited but was told by many current residential faculty that it was normal not to get hired the first time you interview. I went into the interview still hopeful that I would be a strong candidate for the position. After making it through all three rounds, I started to let doubt creep back in which felt shameful since I had been warned that the first time you interview you rarely get hired. 

I found joy in the June of 2017 when I received a call for Dr. Chris Miller, the mathematics department chair, offered me the job. I continued to find joy when I had my son, Olyver, at the end of September 2017 and again on November 3rd, 2012 when I defended my dissertation, successfully earning my doctorate degree. 

I have been finding more joy ever since getting a position here at GCC, through the students I teach, the colleagues I collaborate with, and the opportunities for growth I have found. 

 

GCC in 2033

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.

GCC in 2033

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.