It's a matter of time

by one-11

This week's lessons have centered around time management.

I think that I was way too optimistic about what my time would look like before this process started. According to my schedule, I would be in class for several hours Tuesday and Thursday. I had planned to request a Monday and Wednesday teaching schedule. I would study Monday and Wednesday afternoon. I had even contemplated picking up extra work like tutoring or contract work on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and all day Friday. If I wasn't doing extra work, I would take care of domestic things like cooking meals ahead of time or catching up on laundry. Nice, neat and planned.

My schedule has been modified in that I ended up with a Monday, Wednesday, Friday teaching schedule. I am required to offer office hours everyday. I have papers to grade. Homework requires a LOT of time. And I've already learned the hard way that working at home surrounded by children isn't conducive to completing anything. In an effort to get everything done, I arrive at campus by 8:30 most mornings, and I am there until almost 5:00 Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays. I'm there until after 8:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. And I'm about to join a study group of folks who live here in town that meets on the weekend.

I have no idea where I'd find time for extra work. I'm behind on laundry again. Let's not even talk about all of that cooking ahead that I was going to do. I don't see my friends anymore. (I really miss you guys!) I feel like my children's lives are marching on as I spectate from the sidelines.

I have to remind myself that anything worth having requires hard work. And it takes time to accomplish that hard work. But when it takes so long to get everything done, and my child says “See you tomorrow” as she leaves for school in the morning, I admit that I question whether or not I'm making the right choice. In theory, this will be only three years of my life; and when it's over, I'll hardly remember all of these feelings of angst.

I have vague memories of when my mother returned to school. We talk about when I would call her at the computer lab and remind her that it was about time to finish up and get back home. I'm not scared from the experience. I enjoyed having her teach me her lessons for practice when she was getting certified to teach. I was (and am) proud of her for getting her degrees while raising four children and working.

So I think I'm supposed to walk away from this week knowing that while my time is currently not mine, this is worth it. Right?

A better week

by one-11

In spite of the holiday, it's been a long week for me. At least on an emotional level. But I survived without quitting. I think that I'm almost past the "what have I done?" phase. Things are starting to look up.

I was inspired by President Obama's speech to the children of our nation this week. He requested that "whatever you resolve to do, I want you to commit to it. I want you to really work at it." He said "There is no excuse for not trying." and "The truth is, being successful is hard." And most poignant to me was "Don't be afraid to ask questions. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I do that every day. Asking for help isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of strength because it shows you have the courage to admit when you don't know something, and that then allows you to learn something new."

At the end of last week, I had a plan for succeeding in my "bad" course. I planned to join a study group, I had a lead on someone who might be able to tutor me, and I was going to "give it my best effort." But by the end of this week, I had to accept that effort wasn't enough.

I tend to encourage my students to form study groups. I utilized them in high school and college with great success. But what I realized this week is that a study group is only helpful if you have something to contribute. You may not have a full understanding of the material, but if you understand some aspects, and others in the group understand other aspects, you can support one another and fill in the holes where information is missing.

As I sat with the study group this week, I felt that they were talking way over my head. They had attempted the assigned problems without arriving at completion. But they were able to discuss where they got stuck and what their thinking was. As each shared how they approached the problem, others were able to point out fallacies or suggest how to get further along that path of thinking. This is how a study group is supposed to work. But there I sat in the middle neither contributing nor increasing my understanding. I tried asking questions; but the answers, which were often preceded with "well we know that because", were things that I didn't know or quite understand.

My classmates were helpful, but I didn't gain any clarity and I walked away feeling less than good about myself. I had to accept that perhaps it wasn't simply a matter of forgetting. The reality is that I don't yet posses the skill sets to be successful in this course. The important word in that last sentence is yet. I couldn't see the yet until the end of the week.

I ended up speaking with my advisors and we decided that the best path for me was to take the undergraduate pre-requisite to this course. This time it was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one needing to take this option. During the first session of that class, I was relieved to realize that I understood all that the professor was discussing and I was able to follow along without stress. What was even more interesting is that I I started to see it as a puzzle again. The ability to see math as a fun puzzle is what caused me to end with a major in mathematics to begin with.

In the "bad" class, I found myself questioning why these topics were important to learn. I wanted to know what relevance any of this has to my career. This stuff was only for those who want to be "pure" mathematicians. I sounded a lot like those debating against the current graduation requirements in this state. Now that I'm in a class where I understand the material, relevance isn't on my radar. A fellow classmate actually asked the professor when we'd be doing application problems, to which the professor responded that much of the information in this class is only applicable in other mathematics courses. But because I have an understanding of the material, I wasn't bothered by that. What a change in perspective!

When my previous classmates asked me how I faired on the homework, it was initially embarrassing to admit that I had to drop the course. But it turns out that the need to take "leveling courses" is actually fairly common. Those who didn't need that support tended to have masters degrees in math instead of math education. In general, this means that they had already taken courses that gave them experience with the concepts that I'm missing.

So I had to wrestle with my self esteem a bit more this week, but I'm starting to recognize that there is a difference between lack of knowledge and an inability to comprehend. I'm able to look in the mirror and hear the words from a theme song of a 1970s show "You're going to make it after all."

The weak (I mean week) in review

by one-11

I am so thankful for the outpouring of support that I have received from everyone. I truly wouldn’t be motivated to continue without it. I know that doing this is supposed to come from inside of me. And for the most part it does. But having everyone push me forward is so important. So thank you.

That being said, I realized at the start of the second class that it is going to take a lot more than your support to get me through this. Because while that kept me from running out of class, it didn’t give me any understanding of what the instructor was talking about.

What I found interesting is that there are others in the class who apparently are feeling what I’m feeling. This is interesting to me because I swear that they weren’t there on the first day. From my perspective EVERYONE but me was answering her questions. The answers seemed to roll off of their tongues while I sat there like a deer in headlights. So when others expressed concern, I kept thinking that they still weren’t as bad off as me.

What I found even more interesting is that knowing that I’m not the only one didn’t make me feel better. I didn’t feel any less dumb. I didn’t believe that those of us who are lost could get together and pull each other out. I just thought that there are more of us to become statistics – college dropouts.

I met with the professor to express my fears and obtain her guidance. Her recommendation was that I consider dropping the course and auditing the undergraduate prerequisite. Is that like developmental math at the graduate level? While it might have been a valid suggestion, I admit that I felt embarrassed and a little humiliated.

What made the experience worse was how it affected how I felt in my other classes. I suddenly became unsure of my work on homework in another class that I was sure of the day before. The few marks on my first paper suddenly felt like an indictment of my inability to write. I couldn’t pay attention in the class preceding my “bad” class because I was so full of dread. Is this how a struggling student’s self esteem goes down the drain?

I have slept on it and prayed over it, and today doesn’t seem as bad. I’ve let go of the feeling that I need to just quit and go find a job out of my field where nobody knows me and I don’t have to be embarrassed that I quit. I’ve connected with a study group. At this level, tutors are harder to come by, but I’m sure I can find one. I’ve had a talk with my graduate advisor about options. I’ll pour over next week’s assignment this weekend while everyone else watches the game. And my village will keep pushing me forward.

This part still isn't fun yet.

Teaching Reflections: Week 2

by House Of Sims

This wasn’t my finest teaching week. I planned ahead and wrote everything down. But getting it from my notes to the students wasn’t all that I had hoped.

I sometimes talked faster than I should have. In my fear of not having enough time, I think I left out a couple of things that I didn’t mean to.

I caught myself being sloppy with notation. On more than one occasion, a student would remind me of a negative sign I left off or that I got an inequality wrong. I could be optimistic and say that this meant that they were following along and understanding enough to catch my errors, but I hate it when I don’t pay attention.

One similarity to teaching middle school was that when I reviewed what I had taught in my first class, I was able to correct my errors in my second class. I was able to look at what students didn’t get the first time and modify my examples accordingly for the next class.

I found myself falling into that bad habit of taking the first answer without ensuring that everyone got it. In my haste, I sometimes assumed that a lack of questions meant that they understood. In public school, you put their names on popsicle sticks and call on people randomly. I wonder if that works at the college level.

When I sometimes saw that look of “I wish this class would hurry and end!” I neglected to force that student to answer a question or demonstrate a response.

I know that a lot of this is the result of being out of practice. As the semester goes along, I’ll get a rhythm going. I also have to figure out where the lines are drawn in college. How much help is too much? Is there such a thing?

This part I like!