Some while back I admitted to naming my PC's after game show hosts. Upon my return to campus this fall, now some 15 weeks ago, I was rewarded with a new computer (this, part of the 3 year cycle of replacement hardware). Alarming as it is to just now realize it, I have never gotten around to naming this new, swank model.
Let it be now known, my computer shall henceforth be named Drew, and by the name of Drew shall it be known. This, of course, is in honor of a newly anointed and quite talented game show host, Drew Carey, who has been host of not only "Who's Line Is It, Anyway," "The Power of Ten," and most recently "The Price Is Right."
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Readin'
I wrote the following for a little newspaper editorial column, some time back, but was inspired to post it here after reading this report of a study by the NEA on reading.
I have learned something astonishing: a person can read something, even under the pressure of reading aloud to peers, and not comprehend it. What must be happening is roughly equivalent to sounding out notes but missing the whole song.
This has happened frequently in my class. Initially, I just worried that I was assigning too much homework. It seemed people could just be coming off of a reading assignment, even a small in-class one, and when tested, they demonstrated no more knowledge of the work than would someone who had never read the material! That led me to critiquing my test, assuming that surely the fault must be my own. Was I asking for something too obscure? Were my questions too vague? I even adapted an assignment where I had students raise their own questions over a current reading—I would compile the questions, issue them as a comprehension test and--? Remarkably, even on questions they had generated themselves, the scores were less-than-flattering.
A few who know this column might attribute such a curiosity to the student body of a community college…this was, however, happening in a 400 level engineering course I taught at Kansas State University some time back.
At my present institution, I’ve gone to more in-class, out loud readings. I often model these myself, to demonstrate good inflection and delivery. I may even assign a reading for students to do at home before they are to be read aloud, hoping that their practice would make for improved in-class performance. Sadly, all-too-often what is read sounds as if it is coming from text-to-speech conversion software.
What has happened to our state of education when college students cannot comprehend what they are reading? Is it because the textbook dzn’t rd lk text messaging?
I make an effort to explain to everyone just how complicated our system of communication is. I teach them to realize that we are straining to put thought into words; then these written words are merely sound symbols organized in a way to reflect speech patterns and phonemes we all agree on in a given language. I advise them that there are discrepancies in spelling—this happens any time a language has more sounds than symbols. I demonstrate that punctuation is underrated by sharing two nearly identical texts punctuated differently and thus generating completely different messages. I generally attempt to prime the pump on an assigned reading by issuing thought questions or some other motivational trickery to get them to be attentive readers.
None of the above really matters, for the most part. People read what they are interested in, and at the college level, I often doubt we can force active, attentive reading skills on anyone. This is a pity, for students miss out on some exposure to keen ideas (even when reading aloud to class, they often miss the point). What I find even more defeating is when a student reads his/her own work aloud with the same lackluster, mindless monotone. It’s as if all the personality were extracted from the work read and from the soul of the reader.
I personally find reading to be a very special and peculiar enterprise. I experience it as an act of voyeurism—as a reader, I’m processing whatever the writer put into print…I’m seeing into his/her mind. I approach reading as vicariously experiencing whatever the writer put forward, whether it’s a swashbuckling adventure or a diatribe on teen drinking.
Too often, I find people are reading merely as a task. They are reading every word, but they are only doing so as a chore and with the sole objective of getting to the other side, the end of the chapter. When executed in this fashion, yes, they have laid eyes on every word, but they have not contextualized nor applied those words to any cognitive hooks in their heads. Reading is, from my vantage point, an associative skill. That is to say, one learns by associating new ideas to ones already on file in the mind. When either the mind has empty file cabinets or the mindset of the reader is muddy and less-than-eager to make associations—to say nothing of the myriad distractions surrounding us when making the transaction—then comprehension is forfeited.
In the days before print media, retention and comprehension were accomplished in two potent ways: story telling and song. While my students cannot seem to make heads nor tails of Jonathan Swift, they can decipher and repeat back endless rap lyrics. Those lyrics are memorable because they are rhythmic and because their content has some immediate relevance to the listener. They bounce off my deaf ears in the same way an audio rendition of “A Modest Proposal” might be largely missed by my students. When a message is wrapped in a parable, or for modern audiences, a movie, then it may likely be remembered and better understood.
Chalk it up to laziness or apathy. I will not again point the finger to multi-media making us into passive consumers of information. I will offer this, however: we need to reclaim the art and skill of reading. We need to press it, practice it, and promote it. I am seeing enjoying the written word fade from prominence in my own little lifetime. Some day it will be an antiquated luxury to engage one’s imagination in the written word. It may be likened to making one’s coffee from grinding one’s own beans or harvesting produce from one’s own garden. Why bother, when we can get it all canned?
Why indeed.
Behold!
Changes in punctuation can complete invert meaning:
Dear John,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart. I can be forever happy—will you let me be yours?
Gloria
Dear John,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men, I yearn. For you, I have no feelings whatsoever. When we’re apart, I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Gloria
I have learned something astonishing: a person can read something, even under the pressure of reading aloud to peers, and not comprehend it. What must be happening is roughly equivalent to sounding out notes but missing the whole song.
This has happened frequently in my class. Initially, I just worried that I was assigning too much homework. It seemed people could just be coming off of a reading assignment, even a small in-class one, and when tested, they demonstrated no more knowledge of the work than would someone who had never read the material! That led me to critiquing my test, assuming that surely the fault must be my own. Was I asking for something too obscure? Were my questions too vague? I even adapted an assignment where I had students raise their own questions over a current reading—I would compile the questions, issue them as a comprehension test and--? Remarkably, even on questions they had generated themselves, the scores were less-than-flattering.
A few who know this column might attribute such a curiosity to the student body of a community college…this was, however, happening in a 400 level engineering course I taught at Kansas State University some time back.
At my present institution, I’ve gone to more in-class, out loud readings. I often model these myself, to demonstrate good inflection and delivery. I may even assign a reading for students to do at home before they are to be read aloud, hoping that their practice would make for improved in-class performance. Sadly, all-too-often what is read sounds as if it is coming from text-to-speech conversion software.
What has happened to our state of education when college students cannot comprehend what they are reading? Is it because the textbook dzn’t rd lk text messaging?
I make an effort to explain to everyone just how complicated our system of communication is. I teach them to realize that we are straining to put thought into words; then these written words are merely sound symbols organized in a way to reflect speech patterns and phonemes we all agree on in a given language. I advise them that there are discrepancies in spelling—this happens any time a language has more sounds than symbols. I demonstrate that punctuation is underrated by sharing two nearly identical texts punctuated differently and thus generating completely different messages. I generally attempt to prime the pump on an assigned reading by issuing thought questions or some other motivational trickery to get them to be attentive readers.
None of the above really matters, for the most part. People read what they are interested in, and at the college level, I often doubt we can force active, attentive reading skills on anyone. This is a pity, for students miss out on some exposure to keen ideas (even when reading aloud to class, they often miss the point). What I find even more defeating is when a student reads his/her own work aloud with the same lackluster, mindless monotone. It’s as if all the personality were extracted from the work read and from the soul of the reader.
I personally find reading to be a very special and peculiar enterprise. I experience it as an act of voyeurism—as a reader, I’m processing whatever the writer put into print…I’m seeing into his/her mind. I approach reading as vicariously experiencing whatever the writer put forward, whether it’s a swashbuckling adventure or a diatribe on teen drinking.
Too often, I find people are reading merely as a task. They are reading every word, but they are only doing so as a chore and with the sole objective of getting to the other side, the end of the chapter. When executed in this fashion, yes, they have laid eyes on every word, but they have not contextualized nor applied those words to any cognitive hooks in their heads. Reading is, from my vantage point, an associative skill. That is to say, one learns by associating new ideas to ones already on file in the mind. When either the mind has empty file cabinets or the mindset of the reader is muddy and less-than-eager to make associations—to say nothing of the myriad distractions surrounding us when making the transaction—then comprehension is forfeited.
In the days before print media, retention and comprehension were accomplished in two potent ways: story telling and song. While my students cannot seem to make heads nor tails of Jonathan Swift, they can decipher and repeat back endless rap lyrics. Those lyrics are memorable because they are rhythmic and because their content has some immediate relevance to the listener. They bounce off my deaf ears in the same way an audio rendition of “A Modest Proposal” might be largely missed by my students. When a message is wrapped in a parable, or for modern audiences, a movie, then it may likely be remembered and better understood.
Chalk it up to laziness or apathy. I will not again point the finger to multi-media making us into passive consumers of information. I will offer this, however: we need to reclaim the art and skill of reading. We need to press it, practice it, and promote it. I am seeing enjoying the written word fade from prominence in my own little lifetime. Some day it will be an antiquated luxury to engage one’s imagination in the written word. It may be likened to making one’s coffee from grinding one’s own beans or harvesting produce from one’s own garden. Why bother, when we can get it all canned?
Why indeed.
Behold!
Changes in punctuation can complete invert meaning:
Dear John,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart. I can be forever happy—will you let me be yours?
Gloria
Dear John,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men, I yearn. For you, I have no feelings whatsoever. When we’re apart, I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Gloria
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
I'm finally an American
According to most statistics encountered, the average American is something like $8000 in debt on credit cards, owes too much on a mortgage, is head-over-heels on car loans, and in general, cannot make ends meet. No wonder so many people are on medication for depression. Due to a major change in our income stream, I've been feeling a bit like Stanley Johnson, the "I'm in debt up to my eyeballs" character from Lending Tree commercials.
Fortunately, there are many at work at reversing this crisis. One notable folk hero is Rev. Billy, who has just enough flim in his flam to mesmerize me. One of my regrets in life is that I have yet to see him and his choir in person, in action....and I missed them on tour in 2005 as close as Lawrence.
Fortunately, there are many at work at reversing this crisis. One notable folk hero is Rev. Billy, who has just enough flim in his flam to mesmerize me. One of my regrets in life is that I have yet to see him and his choir in person, in action....and I missed them on tour in 2005 as close as Lawrence.
He is the leader of the Church of Stop Shopping. They hold rallies nationwide to protest consumerism, gluttony, etc. They have a good time modelling after the fire and brimstone charismatic church, all-the-while delivering what I consider to be a potent message.
Likewise, there are campaigns to stop shopping that I admire and participate in (whenever my wife does not undermine it) like Buy Nothing Day, celebrated of course on black Friday. I encourage everyone to get involved by doing absolutely nothing. :)
All the campaigning in the world seems to be moot, for I have the feeling we're on an irreversible downward spiral. So much of our identity, our culture, even our politics--all about the Benjamins.
*sigh*
I struggle with my family, hoping to reverse this awful urge so that they might not end up the same way. Unfortunately, even my boys are barraged with TV commercials and other ads, with people buying them worthless things, with happy meal toys, with their beloved cartoon characters on product boxes and labels...What hope do they have?
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Revived! On Mobile Phones
Back to public blogging after a month off--I'd blame it on grading, but I've found virtually every creative way around that. Most of my blogging has been sophomoric venting on my other, personal blog(s) that I have set to private.
What, you might ask, brings me back to Musement Park?
CELL PHONES, or more accurately, mobile phones.
What better to muse over than what it might be that's so damn important?
I spent over 40 years of my life without an electronic leash. I will admit, I went through phases and fads, from the CB radio in my Grand Prix to those mall-walker walkie-talkies...in fact, my first mobile communication device was a walkie talkie on the farm, a shoebox-sized thing that we would use to relay the progress of irrigation from the tail to the head of the furrow.
However, I have never been so into my mobile phone that I've, say, had a car wreck, walked into the wrong classroom by mistake, etc. In just the last year I've witnessed some very bizarre mobile phone behavior that bears mention here. Muse over this: What conversation could be so compelling that a girl could go into the men's room, complete her whole transaction there, talking all-the-while, and not even notice she was in the wrong place until she was on her way out? What urgent news must be causing these student's phones to ring throughout a 50 minute class period? What would be so very important to a student that they would risk the potential humiliation and public ridicule I might subject them to for using their mobile device to text or talk during my class? How connected does one need to be?
These people are not working on the stock exchange. They are not (usually) landing big contracts or drug deals. I don't really think any of them are in such great demand for their wit or wisdom...
...and isn't it unhealthy, and just a bit creepy, to be so very up the ass or in the ear of your friends and family? Sometimes a little distance is a good thing. Absence can make the heart grow fonder, you know. I am not suggesting anything outrageous, just that a person might conduct their business for the span of a bowel movement without being needed or needy. It would be nice (and I think sane) to be able to survive 50 minutes or even a 3 hr class block without being 'in touch' with whomever is on the other end of the connection.
What ever happened to paying for the air time? That would solve this whole problem, by damn, and it would make the mobile providers RICH, too. Maybe I'm just old school, but I wish we could return to those times when a call had to be precious, or at least a person had to mince and measure every minute.
Recently a young woman was sitting in the hall at work (at this college o'mine) speaking on her phone with her significant other. The discussion had become heated. In just the length of time I passed her, I heard her saying, "Okay, then. If that's what you need, I'll just cut [out of class] and come hump [editor's euphemism] you. 'That make you happy?" Now, to me, this would be a rather private conversation, but she was shouting it out in a public hallway with no mind to anyone overhearing her. This is not the only instance of such content I've heard in passing. (Mind you, I am not even TRYING to eavesdrop, one of my favorite hobbies...these folks are just laying it out there for all the world to hear.)
I think, somehow, people think their conversations are self-contained in little bubbles around their heads. They seem to really think no one other than the intended party is listening (or can even hear). I cannot explain this thinking, but it seems to prevail.
Don't they realize that not only are those in their immediate surroundings hearing their end of the call, but also the entire conversation is likely monitored by our friendly Big Brothers of the Patriot Act ilk? One false slip of the tongue, one tripped up "I got bombed" to sound like "I got bombs" and then where would our little cell phone conversationalist be? It is, sadly, a creepy world when our calls can be monitored electronically as well as simply overheard.
I have read recently of some paint with metal fibers that can thwart any mobile phone's signal. I would like to coat every classroom, office, hallway...hell, the world...with this stuff.
Mobile phones are rumored to cause cancer, too!
Oh, and do not get me started on the hands-free 'bluetooth' devices!
Rant out.
What, you might ask, brings me back to Musement Park?
CELL PHONES, or more accurately, mobile phones.
What better to muse over than what it might be that's so damn important?
I spent over 40 years of my life without an electronic leash. I will admit, I went through phases and fads, from the CB radio in my Grand Prix to those mall-walker walkie-talkies...in fact, my first mobile communication device was a walkie talkie on the farm, a shoebox-sized thing that we would use to relay the progress of irrigation from the tail to the head of the furrow.
However, I have never been so into my mobile phone that I've, say, had a car wreck, walked into the wrong classroom by mistake, etc. In just the last year I've witnessed some very bizarre mobile phone behavior that bears mention here. Muse over this: What conversation could be so compelling that a girl could go into the men's room, complete her whole transaction there, talking all-the-while, and not even notice she was in the wrong place until she was on her way out? What urgent news must be causing these student's phones to ring throughout a 50 minute class period? What would be so very important to a student that they would risk the potential humiliation and public ridicule I might subject them to for using their mobile device to text or talk during my class? How connected does one need to be?
These people are not working on the stock exchange. They are not (usually) landing big contracts or drug deals. I don't really think any of them are in such great demand for their wit or wisdom...
...and isn't it unhealthy, and just a bit creepy, to be so very up the ass or in the ear of your friends and family? Sometimes a little distance is a good thing. Absence can make the heart grow fonder, you know. I am not suggesting anything outrageous, just that a person might conduct their business for the span of a bowel movement without being needed or needy. It would be nice (and I think sane) to be able to survive 50 minutes or even a 3 hr class block without being 'in touch' with whomever is on the other end of the connection.
What ever happened to paying for the air time? That would solve this whole problem, by damn, and it would make the mobile providers RICH, too. Maybe I'm just old school, but I wish we could return to those times when a call had to be precious, or at least a person had to mince and measure every minute.
Recently a young woman was sitting in the hall at work (at this college o'mine) speaking on her phone with her significant other. The discussion had become heated. In just the length of time I passed her, I heard her saying, "Okay, then. If that's what you need, I'll just cut [out of class] and come hump [editor's euphemism] you. 'That make you happy?" Now, to me, this would be a rather private conversation, but she was shouting it out in a public hallway with no mind to anyone overhearing her. This is not the only instance of such content I've heard in passing. (Mind you, I am not even TRYING to eavesdrop, one of my favorite hobbies...these folks are just laying it out there for all the world to hear.)
I think, somehow, people think their conversations are self-contained in little bubbles around their heads. They seem to really think no one other than the intended party is listening (or can even hear). I cannot explain this thinking, but it seems to prevail.
Don't they realize that not only are those in their immediate surroundings hearing their end of the call, but also the entire conversation is likely monitored by our friendly Big Brothers of the Patriot Act ilk? One false slip of the tongue, one tripped up "I got bombed" to sound like "I got bombs" and then where would our little cell phone conversationalist be? It is, sadly, a creepy world when our calls can be monitored electronically as well as simply overheard.
I have read recently of some paint with metal fibers that can thwart any mobile phone's signal. I would like to coat every classroom, office, hallway...hell, the world...with this stuff.
Mobile phones are rumored to cause cancer, too!
Oh, and do not get me started on the hands-free 'bluetooth' devices!
Rant out.
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