What's New: Nothing Much

Yeah. So. Today:

• I had an unprecedented six students come to my office hours. Of those, three wanted to talk about their midterm exams and how they could do better on the final. Oddly, never in eight years at Field College did one of my students come to see me about a past exam...although now that I think about it, I typically only gave final exams, not midterms. That would explain it. Never mind. Anyway, I'm glad to have students--especially those who aren't doing terribly well--stop by for help! But wow, that was a tiring two hours.
• Excitingly, two of the students who came by are thinking about majoring or minoring in Comp Lit. And I signed up two new majors last week. Recruiting, yes! (Most students--undergraduate me included--don't really know what Comp Lit is when they get to college. So our major is smaller than it ought to be.)
• Best news of all: I got my hair cut today, for the first time since July. Amazing how good that feels.

Other news.... Hm. I'm feeling pretty mentally fried and am not even close to accomplishing my overly ambitious research goals for the semester, which were

1. To finish an article for an edited collection (done--this was pretty quick)
2. To revise an article that has been boomeranging around for years now (done, sent to writing group; writing group comments received; now I need to read some more stuff and revise AGAIN before I resubmit it. In my loveliest of dreams, that will happen this semester)
3. To submit an abstract for Kalamazoo (done; accepted)
4. To submit another conference abstract (due next month; not drafted)
5. To revise a chapter of my book draft (not started; this is my lowest writing priority at this point)
6. To write another chapter (what on earth was I thinking? I'm working on one, but I'm about 3500 words in, and I have research to do to write this thing, and probably a research trip, so clearly this won't be written this semester. I am working on it, though, so that's something).

I do need to work on realistic writing goals.

So yeah, that's that. I don't want the semester to end too soon because then I won't be able to believe in the possibility of accomplishing All The Things before December 15 or whenever. And yet, accomplishing the Things will be easier once classes are over. So it goes.

"I'm not going to lie"

Do you get this? "I'm not going to lie, I haven't started the paper yet." "I won't lie, I've been procrastinating a lot." In emails, I mean--I can't recall having a student say this to me in person (though it may have happened). Why point out that they're telling the truth? I generally assume that they're telling the truth (although I'm not so naive as to believe that students always tell me the truth; rather, in most individual cases, I assume that a student isn't lying unless I have a good reason to believe that he or she is. It doesn't make a difference, in most cases: You do the work or you don't, whatever the excuse). In fact, in these cases, pointing out the truth-status of one's claim immediately makes it--or preceding claims--suspect.

So again: Why inform me of the fact that you're not going to lie? Because here's what that does: It leads me to assume that, in other cases, you have lied. Furthermore, "I'm not going to lie: I didn't do the homework" doesn't get you out of doing the homework. There are no points for honesty here. Am I supposed to feel somehow privileged that I'm the one professor whom you choose not to deceive? Are you to be congratulated for your supposedly exceptional ethical sense, which somehow mitigates your laziness?

I know, I know: "I'm not gonna lie" has become a Phrase, a Thing, People Say It. (I find it irritating, to be honest. In my curmudgeonliest moments, I mentally compile a list of New Things People Say that annoy me. "Remodel" as a noun is right up there; at least I normally don't encounter it in my work. So is "speaking to" an issue. Oh, there are so many; a parenthetical can't contain them all.) So it probably doesn't mean much, in itself, except as a sort of awkward transition into an admission that they're somewhat hesitant to make. But in the last six months or so I seem to be getting it a LOT (further confirming its status as a Thing), and I never know how to respond.

So I don't respond--to that phrase, anyway; to the emails, it depends--and I'm using this venue to say the things that I'd like to say. And if you'd like the more concise version, below are three slightly pithier rejoinders from which to choose.

a) I'm not going to lie: calling attention to the truth-status of your claims is a weak rhetorical move.
b) I'm not going to lie: you're failing the class.
c) I'm not going to lie: I still think you're lying.

Friendliness

Apparently the Field College yearbook does these "superlative" awards for faculty and staff--who knew? They're mostly on things about sports team fan-hood and other stuff for which I wouldn't particularly want to be competitive, but they seem like a nice enough idea.

I know about this because I'm apparently a finalist for one of them--there's been a tie, so they're having a vote-off. I'm in the running for "Most likely to be a friend after graduation."

I surely do think that's sweet (though it must be said that my money is on the other contender.)

And you know, I don't think that my students' thinking of me as having friend potential undermines my authority. I am pretty much positive that my students respect me--and, if they don't, I don't know about it. My classes are difficult and my evaluations very good; many of my students work hard in my courses. I seldom get the sense that anyone is trying to pull one over on me; this is not to say that they never do, but I'm okay with letting the occasional con artist get away with something* if it means that, on the whole, there is trust between me and my students (as well as the peace of mind that comes with not looking for cons).

This is, by the way, a marked change from my first year or so here. I knew that a lot of my students liked me back then, but I knew that a lot didn't--and, more to the point, I felt highly embattled. I did have disrespectful students. They freaked me the hell out. And even when I didn't run into open hostility, I was highly alert to the possibility of disrespect. I think that a lot of this--and a great deal of my stress and unhappiness--came from being afraid of my students. That's a perfectly normal new-teacher feeling, I think, but it doesn't make for a sustainable career.

And now, you know, it's just a pleasure to walk around campus, especially because we're such a small school, and to have to pause every few seconds for a "Hi, Chelsea, how's it going?" or "Lou! Congratulations on the law school admission!" or "Hey, Veronica, you feeling better this week?"

It's nice. It's a community. And, in a weird way, it is precisely my position of relative power and authority (as a professor) that enables me to make all of these fond and dispassionate connections--to be friendly without judgment, as it were. I don't need to assess these people as peers; I merely need to be compassionate, and fair, and courteous, and somehow, that makes me love them.

*We're NOT talking plagiarism here--that's a different issue--and one that I do catch on occasion.

Little Brothers

Image: Carpet at Atlanta airport. I've never visited Atlanta, but I've been laid over there on more than one occasion.

I have come to identify a particular type of male student, whom I call the Little Brothers. Does anyone else have Little Brothers? I don't really see any of my female students as Little Sisters, but perhaps that's because I have a little brother and not a sister, and the Little Brothers certainly remind me of my brother, who will always be little to me.

I love Little Brothers. I really do.

Here's what a Little Brother is, for me:

• He is plainly young. Not the fresh-faced, can-you-possibly-be-older-than-sixteen? kind of young that occasionally passes through my composition door, but young in a gawky adolescent way.
• He is awkward. Smooth-talkers and the super-confident are never Little Brothers. I also don't think that I've ever had a serious athlete as a Little Brother; those guys are a little too comfortable in their bodies to fit. Sometimes they also have bad skin. They might dress a little strangely, and I imagine that their rooms smell a bit like socks.
  
• He has certain distinct physical characteristics: a bony face, usually with pronounced cheekbones, and hair that's either distinctly long or just in need of a trim. This is definitely a legacy of my own little brother, who still has a very pronounced bone structure (and really long hair).
• He is not the best student in the class, but he tries. The examples I'm thinking of also come (or came) to my office hours more than average.
• We don't actually have a particularly strong rapport, but it seems clear (sometimes just by the more frequent office-hour visits) that he trusts me and perhaps likes me, in a totally non-creepy, perfectly appropriate sort of way.

The Little Brothers aren't big-time fans; they typically aren't majors, and sometimes I don't see them much after Comp (which is where I seem to meet most of them). But when they're sitting in my office, talking over a question about one of their papers, I feel such a tenderness towards them and a desire for them to have a nice life--well, it's almost like pity, my compassion for these guys. I don't think that they deserve these feelings any more than my other students--in fact, put that way, they certainly don't; all of my students are entitled to my well-wishing (until I have a real reason to withdraw it), right?

But that's no reason to diminish my compassion for the Little Brothers, especially because there are other types of student--mostly first-years, who are so much more on the surface and young than upperclassmen--who tug at my heartstrings for different reasons. I think that perhaps I shall attempt to articulate a highly subjective typology.

(And yes, I'm aware that this makes me sound like a Universal Mother sort of professor. I'm not that, I don't think--but I do inhabit a rather nurturing role with my students, and sometimes I feel like I shouldn't because I'm a good feminist and that's playing to stereotype. But fuck it--I'm comfortable encouraging and nurturing and getting along with my students, and it makes my days so much better than being all exacting and harsh, especially given how much time I spend with students. Plus, the latter is very much not the culture at Field, for men or women.)

What about you? Do you perceive your students within your own set of arbitrarily defined categories that make you love them even without knowing much about them? (And let's focus on the positive, here--no fair trouncing whole groups, which is also a lot less interesting, I think.)