SOL: Well, I think I'm gonna turn in for the night
WOS: OK. . . . Oh! Wait, before you go to bed. . . (Goes into kitchen)
SOL: What?
WOS: (Comes out holding an avocado) Here, fell the avocado right here.
SOL: Uh. . .here?
WOS: No! Here!
SOL: OK. . .
WOS: You see how that feels?
SOL: Yeah.
WOS: OK, that's perfectly ripe. When you buy avocados, that's how they should feel.
SOL: Oh. . . kay. . . .And, I needed to know this before I went to bed?
WOS: . . . Well. . . yeah. . . .
SOL: Why?
WOS: Well, in case I need you to pick up avocados, I wanted to make sure I told you what. . . to look for?
SOL: Are you going to ask me to pick up avocados sometime in the pre-dawn hours?
WOS: Well. . . Probably not. But you never know!
SOL: Was that all?
WOS: Yeah. . . .Goodnight!
SOL: Goodnight.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
A Question of Character (NOT an Election-Related Post)
Lately, DOS has been complaining about--well, it would probably take less time to list the things he HASN'T been complaining about. The internet has only so much space, after all. Where was I?
Well, ONE of the things he has complained about is the tendency of television producer types to mistake a good premise for a movie for a good premise for a television series. Take, for example, last season's "Terra Nova." Now, I never actually watched the show, but the premise, as far as I can tell, was essentially "Jurassic Park," except with people travelling to the time of the dinosaurs instead of the dinosaurs coming to us. Sounds like a decent premise for a miniseries or a movie--perhaps they could call it "Jurassic Park"--but it won't necessarily work as an ongoing TV series. Because where do you go with it? "On this week's 'Terra Nova,' people run from dinosaurs!"; "Stay tuned for scenes from next week's all new 'Terra Nova,' in which. . . people run from dinosaurs!"; "Don't miss the season finale of 'Terra Nova.' People run from dinosaus. . .AND SOMEONE DOESN'T GET AWAY!!!!"
DOS has a point, but I don't think the problem with these shows is exactly (or solely) a problem of premise. Consider "Homeland," which just won the Emmy for best drama, or even "Breaking Bad," which should have won. Both shows' premises sound more appropriate for feature films than ongoing series: "American POW returns to the US as terrorist sleeper agent, and only a mentally ill CIA agent suspects the truth." "Cancer-stricken chemistry teacher starts cooking crystal meth to provide for his family and ultimately becomes the kingpin of the southwest drug trade." Yet both shows work (although, admittedly, it remains to be seen if "Homeland" can keep things going beyond one season). And the annals of television history are filled with series that had decent premises but couldn't find an audience.
What makes shows work--regardless of the inherent strength of concept--is character. "BrBa" and "Homeland" work because characters like Walter White, Jesse Pinkman Carrie Matheson, and Nicholas Brody are richly drawn and beautifully portrayed. What made "Lost" work to the extent that it did--and "Lost" is probably the archetypal example of DOS's complaints about movie-premise for a TV show--was the fact that the show devoted, literally, as much time (about 50% of every episode) to character development as it did to moving the plot--such as it was--forward.
Which brings me to this season. Over the last two days I've watched the premieres of "Revolution" (yes, I know it started two weeks ago--I'm backed up, OK?!?) and "Last Resort." "Revolution" is the latest J. J. Abrams vehicle. In it, the world has suffered a massive and irreversible blackout. Not only has the electricity gone out permanently, but apparently the physical laws that allow people to generate power have gone kerflooey as well: no more internal combustion engines, and--I guess--no more ability to boil water to create steam-driven engines. . .? OK, the premise doesn't really bear much looking into. Anyway, 15 years after the blackout, humanity has more or less adjusted, and there is a revolution (hence the title) brewing against a warlord who has taken control (at least of a large portion of what used to be the midwest). In "Last Resort," the crew of a nuclear submarine, after refusing an order to fire missiles at Pakistan (an order that was highly suspect to say the least), is in turn attacked by the US Navy. The crew of the Colorado then takes shelter on an island and threatens massive nuclear retaliation against anyone who attacks them.
So how are they? Well, considering the limtation of both premises (where do you go with them?), the shows' success or failure will depend largely on their characters. In this regard, "Last Resort" would seem to have more potential. Andre Braugher leads the cast as the captain of the Colorado, and he clearly portrays a man on the horns of an impossible dilemma. "Revolution" seems mostly populated by characters who could have come straight from the cast of "Lost," right down to the scruffy, former bazillionaire trying to survive in a totally unfamiliar world. Still, I've only seen one episode of each, so we'll wait to pass final judgment for at last a couple more weeks. Ultimately, whichever one (if either) produces a character or two whom one wants to spend time with every week will be the one that lasts.
Well, ONE of the things he has complained about is the tendency of television producer types to mistake a good premise for a movie for a good premise for a television series. Take, for example, last season's "Terra Nova." Now, I never actually watched the show, but the premise, as far as I can tell, was essentially "Jurassic Park," except with people travelling to the time of the dinosaurs instead of the dinosaurs coming to us. Sounds like a decent premise for a miniseries or a movie--perhaps they could call it "Jurassic Park"--but it won't necessarily work as an ongoing TV series. Because where do you go with it? "On this week's 'Terra Nova,' people run from dinosaurs!"; "Stay tuned for scenes from next week's all new 'Terra Nova,' in which. . . people run from dinosaurs!"; "Don't miss the season finale of 'Terra Nova.' People run from dinosaus. . .AND SOMEONE DOESN'T GET AWAY!!!!"
DOS has a point, but I don't think the problem with these shows is exactly (or solely) a problem of premise. Consider "Homeland," which just won the Emmy for best drama, or even "Breaking Bad," which should have won. Both shows' premises sound more appropriate for feature films than ongoing series: "American POW returns to the US as terrorist sleeper agent, and only a mentally ill CIA agent suspects the truth." "Cancer-stricken chemistry teacher starts cooking crystal meth to provide for his family and ultimately becomes the kingpin of the southwest drug trade." Yet both shows work (although, admittedly, it remains to be seen if "Homeland" can keep things going beyond one season). And the annals of television history are filled with series that had decent premises but couldn't find an audience.
What makes shows work--regardless of the inherent strength of concept--is character. "BrBa" and "Homeland" work because characters like Walter White, Jesse Pinkman Carrie Matheson, and Nicholas Brody are richly drawn and beautifully portrayed. What made "Lost" work to the extent that it did--and "Lost" is probably the archetypal example of DOS's complaints about movie-premise for a TV show--was the fact that the show devoted, literally, as much time (about 50% of every episode) to character development as it did to moving the plot--such as it was--forward.
Which brings me to this season. Over the last two days I've watched the premieres of "Revolution" (yes, I know it started two weeks ago--I'm backed up, OK?!?) and "Last Resort." "Revolution" is the latest J. J. Abrams vehicle. In it, the world has suffered a massive and irreversible blackout. Not only has the electricity gone out permanently, but apparently the physical laws that allow people to generate power have gone kerflooey as well: no more internal combustion engines, and--I guess--no more ability to boil water to create steam-driven engines. . .? OK, the premise doesn't really bear much looking into. Anyway, 15 years after the blackout, humanity has more or less adjusted, and there is a revolution (hence the title) brewing against a warlord who has taken control (at least of a large portion of what used to be the midwest). In "Last Resort," the crew of a nuclear submarine, after refusing an order to fire missiles at Pakistan (an order that was highly suspect to say the least), is in turn attacked by the US Navy. The crew of the Colorado then takes shelter on an island and threatens massive nuclear retaliation against anyone who attacks them.
So how are they? Well, considering the limtation of both premises (where do you go with them?), the shows' success or failure will depend largely on their characters. In this regard, "Last Resort" would seem to have more potential. Andre Braugher leads the cast as the captain of the Colorado, and he clearly portrays a man on the horns of an impossible dilemma. "Revolution" seems mostly populated by characters who could have come straight from the cast of "Lost," right down to the scruffy, former bazillionaire trying to survive in a totally unfamiliar world. Still, I've only seen one episode of each, so we'll wait to pass final judgment for at last a couple more weeks. Ultimately, whichever one (if either) produces a character or two whom one wants to spend time with every week will be the one that lasts.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Advice for New Teachers: You Say "Teaching to the Test" Like It's a Bad Thing
In the realm of higher education--or whatever it is I do--SLO's are the new black. "Student Learning Outcomes" have been all the rage for several years. In a nutshell, SLO's state what students should be able to do upon completion of a course. In a math class, for example, an SLO might state that, upon completion of the course, students will be able to solve problems using the Pythagorean theorem. Instructors then collect exam data to see how many students correctly answer questions involving said theorem. In theory SLO's thus provide ways for teachers and other interested parties to measure the effectiveness of instruction.
As you can imagine, many teachers hate them.
At a meeting last week, our dean presented responses to a survey wherein she had asked faculty how they used SLO data. Several respondents indicated that, not to put too fine a point on it, they didn't. Use the data, that is. Among those who did indicate that they used the data, though, many suggested the data helped them focus their instruction better so as to improve SLO results. "Of course," some teachers at the meeting tsked, "teaching to the test."
Well, I should hope so!
Among teachers, the knee-jerk reaction to any suggestion of TTTT will often consist of shocked indignation. Tests are often seen as a necessary evil, at best--a bureaucratic requirement that primarily serves as an obstacle to the real mission of teaching, which only philistines fail to recognize is an art of the highest order--and anyone who would betray his or her art to kowtow to bean-counting quantifiers of the ultimately unquantifiable should immediately turn in his chalk and elbow patches and pursue a more suitable career like certified public accountantcy. I, too, used to shake my head at the idea that I would ever sell myself or my students so short by teaching to the test. And then I thought about it.
Next week, my students will take their first significant exam of the semester: They will write a short illustration paragraph (a paragraph in which the writer states a main point and then supports it with facts and examples). They will be graded on how well they fulfill the requirements of such a paragraph: Do they have a topic sentence? Do they provide sufficient evidence to support their points? Is the paragraph well-organized, etc. Over the years, I have developed certain strategies to help students do well on the exam; I have devised specific instructions on how to construct the desired paragraph. And I have suffered serious anxiety about whether I was becoming a TTTT teacher.
But then I realized something: In this class, one of our goals--our desired outcomes--is that students be able to write illustration paragraphs. The test allows us to see whether students have, in fact, mastered this skill. So, by teaching to the test, I merely teach to the outcome that we ultimately desire.
It seems to me, then, that if teachers are concerned about teaching to the test, the problem lies not in the instructional philosophy, but in the design of the tests. If you design tests that actually require the students to demonstrate the knowledge that you set out to teach them, then you should feel no shame about teaching to the test. Indeed, you should do nothing else.
**************************
Publication note: Keen-eyed (not to say obsessive) Sloppists will note a change in the title of this occasional series, which was previously called, "Advice to Young Teachers." Certain readers (well, DOS) took exception to the title. Primarily, I suspect, this was due to the thought that, if I were presenting myself as a some sort of "elder statesman," that would make certain other people (well, DOS) practically antediluvian. Hence, articles in this occasional series will from now on be titled, "Advice to NEW Teachers." We hope you are satisfied!
As you can imagine, many teachers hate them.
At a meeting last week, our dean presented responses to a survey wherein she had asked faculty how they used SLO data. Several respondents indicated that, not to put too fine a point on it, they didn't. Use the data, that is. Among those who did indicate that they used the data, though, many suggested the data helped them focus their instruction better so as to improve SLO results. "Of course," some teachers at the meeting tsked, "teaching to the test."
Well, I should hope so!
Among teachers, the knee-jerk reaction to any suggestion of TTTT will often consist of shocked indignation. Tests are often seen as a necessary evil, at best--a bureaucratic requirement that primarily serves as an obstacle to the real mission of teaching, which only philistines fail to recognize is an art of the highest order--and anyone who would betray his or her art to kowtow to bean-counting quantifiers of the ultimately unquantifiable should immediately turn in his chalk and elbow patches and pursue a more suitable career like certified public accountantcy. I, too, used to shake my head at the idea that I would ever sell myself or my students so short by teaching to the test. And then I thought about it.
Next week, my students will take their first significant exam of the semester: They will write a short illustration paragraph (a paragraph in which the writer states a main point and then supports it with facts and examples). They will be graded on how well they fulfill the requirements of such a paragraph: Do they have a topic sentence? Do they provide sufficient evidence to support their points? Is the paragraph well-organized, etc. Over the years, I have developed certain strategies to help students do well on the exam; I have devised specific instructions on how to construct the desired paragraph. And I have suffered serious anxiety about whether I was becoming a TTTT teacher.
But then I realized something: In this class, one of our goals--our desired outcomes--is that students be able to write illustration paragraphs. The test allows us to see whether students have, in fact, mastered this skill. So, by teaching to the test, I merely teach to the outcome that we ultimately desire.
It seems to me, then, that if teachers are concerned about teaching to the test, the problem lies not in the instructional philosophy, but in the design of the tests. If you design tests that actually require the students to demonstrate the knowledge that you set out to teach them, then you should feel no shame about teaching to the test. Indeed, you should do nothing else.
**************************
Publication note: Keen-eyed (not to say obsessive) Sloppists will note a change in the title of this occasional series, which was previously called, "Advice to Young Teachers." Certain readers (well, DOS) took exception to the title. Primarily, I suspect, this was due to the thought that, if I were presenting myself as a some sort of "elder statesman," that would make certain other people (well, DOS) practically antediluvian. Hence, articles in this occasional series will from now on be titled, "Advice to NEW Teachers." We hope you are satisfied!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
More Great Moments in Management
So this happened:
SOLIPSIST'S LACKEY (a different one): Can you come help someone in the computer lab?
SOLIPSIST: Doubtful. What's wrong?
SL: This woman can't get her floppy disk out of the computer.
S: Wow. Old school!
SL: Yeah.
S: Well, I can take a look, but if the disk is stuck in the machine, I don't know that I'll be able to get it out.
(We go into the computer lab. SL points out the computer. I go over. The student, a middle-aged woman is standing next to it, looking distraught.)
S (to student): Your disk is stuck?
STUDENT: Yes!
(I look at the computer and see the eject button is already pushed in.)
S: Oy. I think this is going to be a problem. (I push the button, just in case. No disk pops out.) Yeah, I don't know what to do about this. We're probably going to need a techie to come in and crack the tower open.
SL: Yeah, I even tried ejecting it through the desktop. . . .
S: I don't think that would work with a floppy disk, anyway.
STUDENT: Oh no!
SL: Right, but it's weird because the computer isn't even reading the disk.
S: Is it not formatted?
STUDENT: All my work's on the disk.
S: You don't have it backed up somewhere?
STUDENT: No.
(I kneel down to look more closely at the disk drive: Maybe there's something obvious that's keeping the disk from popping out. I look into the drive itself.)
S: God. . . .I can't even see the disk. . .
STUDENT: (Handing me a floppy disk.) Here.
S: I don't need another disk. . . . I'm trying to get your disk out.
STUDENT: No, this IS my disk.
S: What?
SL: What?
S: Um. . . .I don't-- THIS is the disk that you can't get out of the computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
S: OUT. OF. The computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
SL (to student): SERIOUSLY?!?
S: Can I see that disk?
STUDENT: Here.
S: So you want this OUT OF the computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
S: OK. (Handing disk back.) Here you go.
And yet, if I'm sarcastic, I'M the jerk!
SOLIPSIST'S LACKEY (a different one): Can you come help someone in the computer lab?
SOLIPSIST: Doubtful. What's wrong?
SL: This woman can't get her floppy disk out of the computer.
S: Wow. Old school!
SL: Yeah.
S: Well, I can take a look, but if the disk is stuck in the machine, I don't know that I'll be able to get it out.
(We go into the computer lab. SL points out the computer. I go over. The student, a middle-aged woman is standing next to it, looking distraught.)
S (to student): Your disk is stuck?
STUDENT: Yes!
(I look at the computer and see the eject button is already pushed in.)
S: Oy. I think this is going to be a problem. (I push the button, just in case. No disk pops out.) Yeah, I don't know what to do about this. We're probably going to need a techie to come in and crack the tower open.
SL: Yeah, I even tried ejecting it through the desktop. . . .
S: I don't think that would work with a floppy disk, anyway.
STUDENT: Oh no!
SL: Right, but it's weird because the computer isn't even reading the disk.
S: Is it not formatted?
STUDENT: All my work's on the disk.
S: You don't have it backed up somewhere?
STUDENT: No.
(I kneel down to look more closely at the disk drive: Maybe there's something obvious that's keeping the disk from popping out. I look into the drive itself.)
S: God. . . .I can't even see the disk. . .
STUDENT: (Handing me a floppy disk.) Here.
S: I don't need another disk. . . . I'm trying to get your disk out.
STUDENT: No, this IS my disk.
S: What?
SL: What?
S: Um. . . .I don't-- THIS is the disk that you can't get out of the computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
S: OUT. OF. The computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
SL (to student): SERIOUSLY?!?
S: Can I see that disk?
STUDENT: Here.
S: So you want this OUT OF the computer?
STUDENT: Yes.
S: OK. (Handing disk back.) Here you go.
And yet, if I'm sarcastic, I'M the jerk!
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Maybe the Mayans Were Right
This is how the world ends: Not with a bang, but with a sizzle. Or a lack therof. Depending on whom you believe, the world is either heading for an imminent and unavoidable bacon shortage or the bacon supply is fine and dandy. Consider, though: The people warning of a baconless 2013 are those stalwart Brits, while only feckless Canadians seek to reassure us there is nothing to worry about. Draw your own conclusions.
I, for one, am too shaken to go on blogging at this moment. To the supermarket!
I, for one, am too shaken to go on blogging at this moment. To the supermarket!
Monday, September 24, 2012
Well, At Least It Wasn't "Mad Men"
As I may have mentioned once or twice, "Breaking Bad" is the best show on television. Apparently, those who vote on the Emmy Awards see things differently. These TV afficionados saw fit last night to bestow the big prize on "Homeland." I have nothing against "Homeland" myself--quite enjoy it actually--but only if it remains as gripping in its fifth season (if it makes it that far) as it was in its first will it deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as BrBa (which, by the way, based on the periodic table would be bromine-barium--the chemical compound for AWESOME!).
"Homeland," though, is quite addictive in its own right. Congratulations to the two leads, Damian Lewis and Claire Danes, for their wins in the leading performer categories. Lewis's win surprised me a bit, but I guess the voters felt that, if they weren't going to award "Mad Men" a historic Emmy, they didn't want to bestow a historic Emmy on Bryan Cranston either. I will say this about Damian Lewis, though: Now that "House" is off the air, Lewis easily takes the title of "Brit-with-the-most-pitch-perfect-American-accent-on-television."
Claire Danes, on the other hand, was the closest thing to a lock among this year's nominees. For those who don't watch the show, Danes plays Carrie Matheson, a CIA agent who suspects (rightly, it turns out) that Marine Sgt. Adrian Brody (Lewis) is actually a terrorist sleeper agent. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, though, Carrie also suffers from bipolar disorder, and she suffers a manic breakdown after being wounded in a suicide bombing. Once this scene aired, the Emmy competition was over.
As for BrBa, just wait 'til next year. By then, the series will have reached its finale. Perhaps, much like "The Sopranos," it will sweep the awards in its final chance. I just hope not to hear "Don't Stop Believin'" as the final credits roll.
"Homeland," though, is quite addictive in its own right. Congratulations to the two leads, Damian Lewis and Claire Danes, for their wins in the leading performer categories. Lewis's win surprised me a bit, but I guess the voters felt that, if they weren't going to award "Mad Men" a historic Emmy, they didn't want to bestow a historic Emmy on Bryan Cranston either. I will say this about Damian Lewis, though: Now that "House" is off the air, Lewis easily takes the title of "Brit-with-the-most-pitch-perfect-American-accent-on-television."
Claire Danes, on the other hand, was the closest thing to a lock among this year's nominees. For those who don't watch the show, Danes plays Carrie Matheson, a CIA agent who suspects (rightly, it turns out) that Marine Sgt. Adrian Brody (Lewis) is actually a terrorist sleeper agent. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, though, Carrie also suffers from bipolar disorder, and she suffers a manic breakdown after being wounded in a suicide bombing. Once this scene aired, the Emmy competition was over.
As for BrBa, just wait 'til next year. By then, the series will have reached its finale. Perhaps, much like "The Sopranos," it will sweep the awards in its final chance. I just hope not to hear "Don't Stop Believin'" as the final credits roll.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Til Tomorrow
Another busy day of paper-grading, Teaching would be so much easier if it weren't for all the students. In the meantime, I hope to be back tomorrow with a longer post, indignantly protesting what I am sure will be yet another snubbing of "Breaking Bad" at tonight's Emmys.
'Til then!
'Til then!
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