"College Faculty's New Focus: Don't Offend" (Wall Street Journal)

The link:
https://www.wsj.com/articles/college-facultys-new-focus-dont-offend-1488200404

The flava:

Tirebiter Carries On, by George Leroy Tirebiter XII

We have students in crisis at our school. At least that was the subject line on my e-mail, and I see no reason to doubt it. A colleague has witnessed panic attacks from a few students, and another student had him or herself “checked in” for a few days. Apparently all these cases are beyond what might be considered the usual “academic” crises—they seem to be all somehow triggered by, well, The World in Which We Live.

It all makes me wonder, which I’m pretty much doing as I write. I have to admit, as I close my sixth year at this place, I haven’t had a student have a panic attack in front of me. Some crying here and there, maybe one near breakdown, but no, not a panic attack, I don’t think. It could be because students instinctively realize I’m not going to be much help in a panic attack—I would just join in and have one, too, most likely.  Or it could be the book I always carry around with me that has the words “Don’t Panic” written reassuringly on the back.

I also wonder if we’re right, or at least not wrong, to panic. We’ve got a bad president who also
seems to be a bad man acting badly. When I was an overage grad student, one of the professors had a sign on the door that read, “Do you feel a draft?” I think that was one of the things we were panicking about then, or at least we were really disturbed by it. And now? Well, as kids who lived in the shadow of the Peloponnesian War, the Thirty Years War, the Great War, the Second World War, the Cold War (let’s all be like Bert the Turtle and duck and cover, kids!), and right now have discovered and are discovering, the world’s a scary-ass place. And your worst fears might become reality—for some, I guess that has already happened. I don’t think it’s all about snowflakes being snowflakes—not entirely, at least.

I’m not a professional in terms of mental health. Our job is to refer the students to people who are, and who are available on campus. Beyond that? Well, when one of your Special Needs Adopted Kids insists on doing homework in your lap and peeing on your pants, and another Special Needs Adopted Kid decides to hurl a heavy toy fire truck at your face from two inches away (while the third Special Needs Adopted Kid just doesn’t like you very much), you get, perhaps, a different perspective on the World and Life as We Know It. But I think my best (only) answer comes from The Lego Batman Movie—I took the 4-year-old (the fire-truck-thrower) the other day. In it, Richard Grayson, who will become Robin, meets Bruce Wayne (Batman, of course) at a benefit and gushes excitedly, “Hi Mr. Wayne, I’m your biggest fan! My name is Richard Grayson, but most of the kids at the orphanage call me Dick!” Bruce Wayne acknowledges, “Yeah, kids can be cruel.”

And I laughed. For five, maybe six seconds. It felt good.

So that’s what I’d offer to our students in crisis, and perhaps, to you folks as well. As the hero says in “Sullivan’s Travels”:  "There's a lot to be said for making people laugh. Did you know that's all some people have? It isn't much, but it's better than nothing in this cockeyed caravan.”

Yup. Better than nothing.

Tirebiter out.

P.S. Read “The Complete Yaro”—yeah, the whole darn thing. I liked the way he stuck up for the adjunct, and I like the way he really took good teaching, and his students, seriously. That is also better than nothing.

"Why professors object to being recorded," explained somebody.

"Any professor who is not ashamed of what he or she is saying in class should welcome being recorded."

     --Dennis Prager

USA TODAY: "For many small colleges, it's a challenge just to stay open"

The flava:

Small, private institutions can often offer a familial atmosphere that just isn’t possible at larger schools. But Saint Joseph’s is only the latest in a string of college closures, particularly among small, private schools in rural areas.

And it won’t be the last.

Click here for more.

Technical Term Papers, a rant by Suzy from Square State

[RGM note: This was submitted by the one who was and then was not the dean.]

I've just finished grading a stack of papers by Basketweaving Technology students. I know that they are unused to writing, so I wanted to give them a chance to practice before they do their final year project that will include a 40-page write-up.

Do they not learn in school how to put page numbers on their papers? Is a chatty blog-style, filled
with first- and second-person pronouns, considered proper academic style today? Do they honestly not understand how to reference a statement? It really does not suffice just to list a lot of URLs with long strings of numbers and letters in a "Reference list". It's even worse when they state nonsense and give a reference that of course does NOT state what they think it did.

Don't get me started on the Wikipedia references. I mean, come on, there's even a LINK on every single frigging Wikipedia page "cite this page"! It will give your copy&paste versions conforming to a wide variety of citation styles.

A friend asks me why I bother having them write term papers and give feedback. I should just give multiple choice exams and be done with it. I suppose that I dream of some students actually studying the feedback I gave and learning from it. Meanwhile, is there any whisky left?

Suzy from Square State

humans and restrooms

"The Trump administration withdrew Obama-era guidance late Wednesday on the rights of transgender students, to allow the Education and Justice Departments to 'further and more completely consider' the controversial issue."

For a number of years, there's been this question about which restrooms transgender students should use--or should be allowed to use.  I had been so desperately hopeful that progress would be made quickly.  This might sound odd to some, but my mother has not been able to use public restrooms by herself for quite some time now.  The Alzheimer's has continued to take its toll.  With few exceptions, I have been the person who has taken her out to restaurants, parks, and so forth.  And when she has needed or wanted to go to the restroom, I have been the one to help her.

It's been a hell of a challenge.  I've had to plan in advance, navigate, improvise, juggle, grin and bear
it.  Many, many, many restaurant managers would rather not have a grown man and his elderly mother in one of their restrooms at the same time.  But my kind and wonderful mother has only gotten more and more confused.  If I couldn't have helped her in the restrooms, then she would have sometimes probably sat in a stall for an hour or wandered out of the restroom not dressed appropriately.

No doubt there are people who would judge me for going about these things the wrong way, just like there are people who judge transgender people for being themselves, and people who judge other parents for raising their children the wrong way.  And that's a goddamned pain in the ass.  I love my mother and I've done it the best way I know how, and the people who have probably been most helpful (for me, anyway) with this particular issue have been the people who have created and used helpful relevant apps.

Yes, I love great apps.  And the two that have been most useful have been Refuge Restrooms and Mommy Nearest.  The former helps "transgender, intersex, and gender nonconforming individuals" find restrooms; the latter helps find "family-friendly" restrooms.  In recent years, I have choreographed many outings around accessible restrooms I've found on these apps.  They have made all the difference.

I suspect there will not be any more of these outings for my mother.  I kid you not, I am unexpectedly crying as I write this.  It makes me so sad, of course, but it is just too difficult to get her out anymore.  Nevertheless, I probably will keep the apps on my phone for some time.  And I will maintain a quite visceral belief that people should be allowed to have access to a restroom, without being humiliated or made to feel unsafe.  A person should be allowed to engage in the most basic, necessary functions without being deprived of dignity.

Tirebiter and the Winds of Change (or Change of Wind), by George LeRoy Tirebiter XII

The sleep apnea’s getting more severe—I think that’s the worst of it. It’s something I’ve been able to more or less control for a number of years, but I’m nodding off more and more, and not just because I’m boring the crap out of myself.  I’ll see if I can get some treatment over spring break.

I had a nice moment during office hours today—I’ll get to it. It stems from our department’s current major basket-weaving project, a subset of basket-weaving that isn’t my specialty, but I’m finding myself more and more immersed in it, since our department is putting together a graduate program in this kind of basket-weaving. The project has unearthed a few concerns, which I’m having trouble articulating except in a place like this.

So the project is a kind of basket-weaving that the participants devise over a period of weeks and then present, and it’s never been my thing, exactly. And I’m not in a position anymore where I could just say, well, I admire the concept, but it’s not my kind of basket-weaving, or I’m not the intended basket-weaving audience—I pretty much have to cheerlead for it. I’m learning some of the vocabulary, but I’m not sure my heart is in it. And I’m starting to worry a bit that our department is going to break its arm patting itself on the back with regard to how “courageous” this kind of basket-weaving is. Some of it really is courageous, and some of it is kind of… basket-weaving wanking, I think. (I suppose there is some courage involved in wanking, at that.)

I find myself at a great loss in terms of how to explain it or put it in context for the non-basket-weaving majors, and yet there may be a key—remember that “nice moment” I mentioned 215 words ago? A non-major from my intro to basket-weaving lecture course expressed concerns about giving a written response to the project, since the project confused her. My admission was pretty simple: “You’re not the only one, sweet cheeks.” (For the record, I did not really say “sweet cheeks.”) I assured the student that she didn’t have to get the details “right” or “wrong”—most of it was perception and opinion. We talked through a few of the basics of the project that I knew about, and we came to some plausible conclusions. “That was very helpful,” she said. “Thank you.”

Lately, I’ve been feeling not quite part of the basket-weaving team—more like I’m “basket-weaving adjacent.” I can take steps to improve that. But a word or two like that from a student who really wants to take intro to basket-weaving seriously—it’s something. Some of my other students, who get most of their philosophy from Pixar (as do I, I must readily admit), tell me to “just keep swimming.” I’ll do that, too.

Finally, I read a Yaro piece—something about a goodbye party thrown by his grateful and loving colleagues and former students. It was sweet.

$

There's a list of 7 inspirational quotes for students. You only really need this one.

“You can’t control the things that happen to you but you can control the way you react to them.” – Kristen Bell

www.uloop.com/news/view.php/227011/7-Inspirational-Celebrity-Quotes-for-College-Students

George LeRoy Tirebiter XII and Heroes in Academia, by George LeRoy Tirebiter XII

[RGM note: A college proffie sent this in. He's a "long-time listener, first-time caller."]

I’ve been meaning to write something ever since this was College Misery, and then partially revised (or revived) College Misery, and then it was somebody whose name began with a K, and then I think it was that Hiram guy, and now it’s a horse. So what’s been germinating all this time? It has to do with heroes. I was thinking of heroes when looking through the Chronicle of Higher Ed forum section, and there was a thread about how to make the world better. Without going on too long about the overall character and tone of the Chronicle forum, I would just say that these are NOT the people I’d go to with regard to making the world better. Who would I go to? Well, through some weird twists of fate or circumstance or some sort of supernatural decree, you guys are my academic heroes.

It’s not uncritical love, by any means. Yes, I do think some regulars need to call a “whaaambulance.”

There are other regulars with whom I would never serve on a committee. I don’t have much patience for anyone who goes on about how much smarter they are than the department chair (so use your incredible gifts and intelligence to HELP the chair). That “silverback” guy in the “silverback’s lament”? Except for a couple of over-the-top satirical statements, he sounded pretty reasonable to me. And I can’t get through more than two or three sentences of Yaro at a time—I’m sorry. I mean, he seems like a gentleman and a scholar and all that, but… yeah, I just tried again. Couldn’t make it.

But… well, you’re the ones who are there. You show up. You keep your appointments. You teach, provide service, and perform scholarship with whatever emotional and institutional resources you have. And you talk about it—often with pain, rage, humor and eloquence. I’m trying to do what you all are trying to do, too.

I haven’t had many academic heroes. In the Chronicle, there was a regular who posted under “Henry Adams.” He wrote some funny and humane stuff about graduate school and the job search, and he threw in some funny Catch-22 references when he named the people in his life. Even better, though, was that he made the right people angry. Or at least, the right person. There was a poster named Spyzowin—far and away the most mean, cruel, vicious, empathy-less individual in the Chronicle comments lineup (at the time), and I’m certain that as I write this, he’s out somewhere killing a mockingbird. Henry Adams pissed this guy off. He even started a whole thread on how to stop Henry Adams. Clearly, this Adams guy was doing something right. Adams stopped contributing, maybe two or three essays past the point where he really had something to say. But he was something of a hero, at least for a while.

That was when I needed a hero, too. I was an adjunct for a long, long time. I went roughly 4 years putting together something like a $30,000 a year salary by stringing a few part-time gigs together. By the way, you also don’t go to the Chronicle forum for adjunct advice. Their most eloquent (or at least verbose) spokesperson is an unholy amalgam of Frederick Winslow Taylor (the father of “Scientific Management”) and Deacon Thomas Rhodes from Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology. Boil down the thousands of words, and he or she pretty much says if you’re putting together several part-time adjunct gigs together to make a living, you’re an idiot who deserves what you get, and if you tell your unfortunate story, you’re trafficking in “adjunct porn.” (Plus the amount of adjuncts who do suffer are statistically insignificant, and always will be.) The one advocate FOR adjuncts is a full-blown troll on all the other threads, and has, to put it generously, some difficulty in putting together a coherent sentence. So heroes are in short supply.

And now? I’ve played the game for a little while longer, with some success, as a tenured associate prof at a state school with a 4-4 load. The job began as a full-time temporary position—the Dean asked me, “What do we need to do to get you to accept this job?” My reply: “Ask.” That was the extent of my negotiating.

Since then, the closest I’ve come to a hero is one in reverse—there’s an academic in the Midwest whom I use as a near-perfect backwards compass in matters ranging from teaching pedagogy to Woody Allen movies to what constitutes good acting, as well as how to behave like something resembling a decent human being. The reverse compass thing isn’t perfect—we voted for the same person for president—but it generally serves well enough. So for unironic inspiration, I’ve pretty much got you guys.

Thank you for what you do. I might even try to get through a Yaro essay again.  Not right now, of course. But soon.