Never trust a publisher

I'm getting a course off this semester for course development, mostly because the textbook publisher is changing book editions. The change in book editions is not a big problem; as usual, the changes are minor adjustments mostly designed (I think) to keep students from buying used textbooks. However, we use an on-line homework system from the publisher in large classes, and they are updating to a completely new version of the system. This is a major change for us.

This fall, after I had passed on the course to another instructor, the publisher wanted us to switch to the new system for spring semester. A system which the publisher said would not be ready until November. The instructor in charge of the course (wisely) didn't want to do this; she wanted to keep the old system for spring and consider switching to the new system next year if we wanted to. After all, we wanted time to look at the system before we committed to using it, and November was a little late to be planning for spring semester.

Well, the textbook publisher wasn't happy about this. They wanted to sell their new book and system right away. They kept pushing and pushing this, and were fairly unwilling to let us order the old system. We were planning on finding ways to do without the system altogether for the spring (and maybe forever, considering), but apparently they caved at the last minute, because our order finally showed up at the bookstore this January.

At the start of the semester, we decided to sign up for an account on the new system so we could start experimenting with it and figure out what (if anything) we needed to change. (Remember, this is the system the publisher had wanted us to be using right now.) When we applied, we got back an automatic e-mail that started with something like:

Thank you for your interest in ******. The course you have requested is currently still in development. We will send you an e-mail as soon as it becomes available....

Never, and I mean never, trust a publisher.

My greatest weakness is my experience

I'm back to teaching a course that I know well. I became the course coordinator and oversaw the transition to large sections, then taught all the sections exclusively for a year. I spent another year splitting the course with someone else and teaching them how everything I built worked. And I've come to realize that sometimes I make more mistakes with things that I know really well.

There are all these little niggling things that I figured out in the first semester: bugs in software, common student errors, problems with the schedule, etc. By the second semester, I knew where all the pitfalls lay. I had fixed the bugs that could be fixed and warned students in advance of the problems they were going to encounter.

And by the third semester I forgot them all again.

I have had a lot of "D'oh!" moments after the first two semesters. Those times when I start getting students e-mails and suddenly go "Oh right! I needed to tell them to install Java on their computers..." Or: "Whoops! Forgot to teach them about order of operations again."

I guess I figure I've been doing all this for several semesters, so surely they must know it all too. (To be fair, there probably are some students who have been taking the class for as many semesters as I've been teaching it, but I try not to dwell on that.)

But today I remembered something I usually forget, so I'm ahead of the game for the moment.

The Pile

My next door neighbor moved about a week ago to be closer to her family. I was expecting that, because I talked to her from time to time and occasionally helped her out with a few things, particularly when she moved in. (Mostly I think she was lonely.)

What I wasn't expecting was the large pile of junk which appeared in my front yard on the same day she moved out. When I came home in the evening, there was a pile (including 4 mattresses, two floor lamps, a partially disassembled dresser, some headboards, boxes, various small appliances, and some bags of trash) left on my side of the yard. (It's a duplex.) My neighbor appeared to be gone. I was at a bit of a loss as to what that meant. I was fairly sure (but not positive yet) that the stuff was probably hers, but I wasn't sure why it was there. Was somebody coming back for this stuff? Was it just trash they decided to abandon? Why was it on my side of the yard?

I called up my rental company the next morning to let them know about it. They said they would ask if it was something she was coming back for, and if not, they would haul it away. They also confirmed she had moved out the previous day. I asked the neighbor across the street, but he hadn't been in when the stuff got dumped either, so he didn't know how it got there. He did however spot junk mail addressed to my previous neighbor in one of the trash bags, so I'm pretty sure it was actually hers. (Although really, how often does random junk just get dumped in someone's front yard?)

Now the pile has been there about a week, and the weird thing is it has been shrinking. I'm sort of doubtful that they are coming back for it a few items at a time. I think people in the neighborhood are just raiding it for things that they like. One floor lamp disappeared, then the other. A few items here and there vanished. It kind of gave me the willies when two of the mattresses disappeared, after sitting out on the ground and being rained on for a couple of days. (I kind of hate to even think about that one.)

As far as I'm concerned, anyone can take anything they want. (But I do wish people would quit throwing the junk around my yard when they root through the pile.) I just want to see the pile shrink away completely. I may need to call the property manager again and find out when this junk is going to be gone. I'm sure all the local cats will be delighted when it becomes infested with mice, but I'm less than thrilled. And not very happy with a neighbor I used to like.

Back Again

I've been away for some extended traveling, and I'm glad to be home again. Living in other people's spaces frays my nerves after a while, and it's good to have your own bed, your own schedule, and sole custody of the remote control. (At the same time it's hard to say goodbye when it's time to go. I envy anyone who can live in the same state as their significant other.)

I spent Christmas in Atlanta with my partner and his family, which was lovely, and flew to Dallas for a week to see my parents. I got an offer to upgrade to first-class and took it, so I arrived feeling less like I have been beaten with a stick than I'm used to. (The flight was also shorter, since they took off late and had to make up time. Since I'd paid to upgrade it left me feeling as if I should ask if they'd circle the airport a few times, just to get my money's worth.) While I'm really glad that I didn't have to spend the flight hunching up my shoulders to fit into the seat, I found some of the things that differentiate first class from economy sort of odd. Like getting a drink right before the plane takes off on the runway, and getting real glasses instead of plastic cups once we were in flight. (Personally, I'm iffy about real glasses. How and when do they clean these things?) Oh, and you'll be glad to know that the TSA is making our skies safer by now insisting that only travelers in first class can use the bathroom in first class.

Once their, I spent New Year's with my family. We spent part of my visit doing math problems. Well, OK, only one math problem: my Mom wanted to figure out the area of the lot their house sits on. It's a harder question than it sounds. Because it's on a cul-de-sac, there is not a right angle or parallel line to be found in the surveyor's plat, and one section is cut off by a circular arc. It took a while to solve the problem, and it involved so much good math I'm passing this on to my friend here who teaches geometry for architects.

Now I'm home and catching up on everything, including getting ready for a semester about to start. My held mail included a letter from my rental agency deciding I really have to tell them by February if I'm staying here or not. (They originally wanted to know in November, but I told them I didn't know.) I have five job applications submitted and may send more if more jobs come up; not one of the colleges has started conducting interviews. (I had a "We have received your application letter" in the same stack.) Oh well, something else exciting to look forward to.

The Progression of a Weak Student

Every semester, there is a clear track that some students seem to fall into, which is roughly as follows:

After the first homework is graded: "I had a really bad time on this assignment, but I'm going to work really hard and I'm going to bring my grade up."

After Test 1: "I'm going to study hard and do really well on my other tests, so doing so badly on this test won't hurt me so much."

After Test 2: "I'm going to do really, REALLY well on the third test and final, and then those will bring up my scores on my first two tests."

At some point in the semester: "You drop the lowest lab/homework/quiz/whatever score, right?"

After Test 3: "Does the final exam grade replace your lowest test grade if you do better?" (I can guarantee I will get this question from at least one student as a test is being turned in. It does not bode well for the student's performance on that test.)

After the Final: "Is there anything else I can do to bring my grade up?" (Hint to my students: There's a reason we use the word "Final".)

Of course, all of this is complicated by the fact that the weakest students in my classes are those who are really bad at math, and therefore can't correctly average their grades. A friend of mine had a student who got an 80 on the first test, failed the second test miserably, and didn't come to the third test at all. My friend was startled when the student (who hadn't been coming to class or turning in homework either) showed up to a review session for the final exam. She took the student aside and asked, "You do realize you can't pass the class, right?" The student was shocked: "I thought I had a B!"

A Brief Update

I've been meaning to post for a while, but it's that time in the semester. In fact, I've got some semi-technical posts I've worked on a bit and haven't decided whether to put up or not. So some brief updates follow, since I'm in today letting someone take an exam.

• Our office floor continues pretty much as usual. The white board degenerated from a lesson on elementary graph theory to something else about a month or so ago:
  
  (Yes, Geomotron and the cat were my creations.) Eventually Ooga-Booga got involved:
  
  I suggested to some other people on the hall that we have enough interesting things going on to create our own prime-time dramatic series.
• I went down to Atlanta again for Thanksgiving. My partner has a new kitten. I'm not sure what the kitten would think of Geomotron, but he would almost certainly attempt to play with it, since it seems to be his main method of interaction with everything. (He's not too discriminating; he gets excited if you just wiggle your fingers in front of him.)
• Just as an aside, I've recently discovered that it's possible to rewrite "The Little Drummer Boy" into an alternative song about a boy who didn't even have a drum and had to play a different instrument. I call it "Little Flatulent Boy" (or something worse). You don't even have to change the 'Barump-pum-pum-pum's. It's fun, too.
• I have a student wanting to have a few extra days to study for a final, and I'm somewhat inclined to just let her. If I do, I have to resist the urge to say, "Sure, and how much more rope do you need?" There are always some students who believe in end-of-semester miracles. I've never actually seen one 'though.
• I now have five job applications out for next year, including one at my own alma mater. I'm really hoping I can leave next year (finally). Think good thoughts for me.
• I'm in today giving some make-up finals and grading. (Hence why I've suddenly found time to post here.) I'm also eating bagels and donuts that another instructor had left over after bringing in breakfast for his students taking a 7:45 am final. Now I owe him breakfast, which is problematic, considering the likelihood of either of us being up early enough to eat breakfast again in the near future.

I think that will have to do for now, but perhaps I'll be back soon. Happy Holidays to all, and good wishes.

Halloween

Well I found horns, although not quite what I hoped for. They amused my students. Of course it also meant I was passing back tests somewhat in character. (Some years back, I wore a different pair of horns to class on Halloween and told my students that what they had suspected about me all semester was true. Then some wag in the back row shouted out "That's not what we've suspected about you all semester!")

I had a fair number of trick-or-treaters in the evening, and I think I succeeded (partly by the horns) in seeming somewhat menacing. I do try to be very friendly with the younger kids so as not too be too intimidating. (I like to see if I can make the older kids mess themselves, 'though.) I think one small girl found it a little overwhelming; she decided not to take the candy I offered and just leave. (Maybe she was just picky about candy, but I do tend to give good stuff.) On the other hand, there was a tiny little girl I think dressed as a butterfly or something (think one of those Anne Geddes creations and you'll have it about right) who seemed fascinated by me. She tottered over (assisted by Dad), I gave her some candy, she stared up at me for a bit, then started to head inside. Dad steered her back the other way: "No, no, this way--say 'thank you'!" I think she decided, this guy has horns, he sounds like Kermit the Frog (just ask my students), and he has candy. I'm staying here! Or maybe it's just the general fascination small children seem to have with me. My partner observed that whenever we were out to eat, any small children in the vicinity would end up staring raptly at me for some reason. Frequently over the seat of the booth behind me.

Someone on the block was apparently giving out dollars, according to some of the kids. Even though this person probably paid more than I did for Halloween, I still think that's kind of cheating. The real meaning of the season is free candy.

I think we had a slightly smaller group for Halloween this year than last, but it was fun. And now I've got lots of left-over candy, which is the best part. Low-carb candy. I'm sure it's all low-carb candy. Especially the chocolate.