I was talking to a friend about teaching, and in the context of his experience in the classroom he quoted a comedian’s line about doing stand-up: “It’s never them.” In other words, if you bomb, it’s your fault.

So far this semester, I have difficulty getting students to write good papers, by which I mean papers that feel like the students cared about them when they wrote them. Class discussions are great, and then the papers come in and … not so great. What am I doing wrong? I can provide more information if anyone wants to engage in a dialogue about this.

How do you get your students to write good papers?

As I’ve said before, I need to work on patience. I hate to fail. I hate to feel mediocre. I hate to be rusty. But I try to step outside my comfort zone and do things I do not yet do well. It’s the only way to get better. This takes humility, in addition to patience. I’m thinking about my teaching, my research, my guitar playing, my meditation … my life in general.

I’m thinking about this, in part, from reading Edith Frost, an honest-to-goodness working musician, blog about practicing:

I need the practice, for my voice and my hands too. My left hand gets really shaky trying to hold the chords down. I’d be worried about arthritis except that it’s always been that way when I haven’t been practicing.

And Liz Lawley has been blogging her frustration in writing a paper for an upcoming conference:

There are so many people out there who have said what I want to say better than I can say it myself. And Iím by turns left appreciative, envious, grateful, bitter, and enriched by what they say … But the problem with reading wonderful things, for me, is that they often donít inspire me to greatness. Instead they leave me wanting to get down on the floor and cry out ìIím not worthy!î Which probably isnít a terribly healthy response.

I appreciate the frankness found in other people’s blogs because it teaches me that I’m not the only one who faces these issues. I sometimes worry that writing about when I’m feeling down or frustrated will create a negative image of me. But the other side is that someone reading my blog might find encouragement in my working through issues that they are also experiencing.

Finally, there’s this bit from the Bonny ‘Prince’ Billy tour diary, in which readers send him questions to answer:

q: I am teaching myself keyboad and guitar. I feel that I have a good ear. I am 34 years old and consider music to be good therapy. What I would like to know is some pointers on how to be better disciplined with practice and to keep my fingers from getting tied up together when playing.

a: trust that every time you practice you are getting better; it will seem just as hard because the challenges will grow proportionate to your ability.

I like how the answer ignores the part of the question about “discipline” and instead emphasizes self confidence and optimism. Just keep doing it. Trust that you’re getting better.

Lots of conversation about teaching. Some duck observation. Some incompetent bowling. Such was my sojourn in the Ozarks.

Oh, I also had this … interesting conversation:

So, you’re a vegetarian?

Uh-huh.

Well, what do you eat?

Anything but meat.

Do you eat chicken?

!!!

I return to KC with a head full of responsibilities and deadlines. Oh dreary Sunday, do not taunt me with your blue skies and sunshine.

As the sun comes over the roof of my apartment building and, descending towards the west, warms the windows, the frames creak and pop as their temperature changes and they expand. My cat gets to nap all day, but in all likelihood he’s probably a bit bored.

When I said I was going away “this weekend,” I should have said “Thursday through Saturday.” I’ll be away from the blog (and email) for a few days.

Unless I find a terminal at the retreat. In which case I’ll provide you with breathless, up-to-the-minute updates.

I’ve not received any comment spam (or abusive comments) in my blog, but I’ve seen that others have. I did get a pneis enlrgaement* spam comment in one of my course blogs, but nothing here. In response to this phenomenon, which several people have been writing about lately, Matt thoughtfully asks a broader question about comments in general: do they skew how a blog is read? “[T]hereís a way in which open comments on every post alters the reception of the blog as a whole: the worth of an entry is implicitly measured by how many comments it garners.” Can we do without them, he wonders, relying instead on TrackBack? Of course, then maybe we’d just switch to an (un)conscious system by which an entry’s worth is related to the number of TrackBacks it receives. Anyway, it’s this kind of questioning that keeps me returning to Matt’s blog: comment spam leads to a larger consideration of the effect of comments versus TrackBacks on reading practices, or posting “hot” and then editing leads to the coining of a new term, “blog flutter.” Some of us are more suited for digital studies than others. Comments like these evidence Matt’s admirable acumen for digital studies.

However, I would ask also whether the number of comments (or TrackBacks) an entry garners affects how it’s written. I received no comments on my course proposal entry or on my ASECS paper proposal. I’m not complaining, mind you, it’s just that I have this sense that the autobiographical stuff I write is of more interest to you, dear reader, than the entries about my teaching and research. So while lately I’ve been feeling like I should be writing what I tend to refer to as “substantial” entries (about, as my banner describes, “literature, technology, culture, education, academia”) as opposed to what I refer to instead as “self-indulgent autobiography,” I assume that many readers come to the blog for the latter more than for the former. Or for a mix of the two.

I’m still not ready to “out” myself as a blogger to the C18 community, which might lead to a different kind of community of readers on my blog. We’ll see.

*intentional misspelling to avoid undesired google hits