My so-called grading day, part 1.

America: things have come between me and my grading. Things like

• arrival of Scotland daughter
• intermittent and stubborn illness
• arrival of The Bride
• family gatherings
• the Wedding Fitting Ordeal
• flurries of last-minute purchases, to wit: more Mucinex; StaticGuard; mints; emergency luminizer; &c&c
• the gathering of sisters (and mom) for the night before festivities

and so forth.

Also, and not to be forgotten:

• the WEDDING. Which was glorious.

But now comes the reckoning, because grades are due, as in: there is an actual deadline, tomorrow night at midnight. Alas! the portfolios, as they say, will not grade themselves. And so I set to work.

Luckily, before most of the above ensued, I had

• initiated the ritual of the Preparation of the Rubrics, and
• organized the URLs.

Thank God. That meant that today I could just start reading and commenting.

DIGRESSION: Comments? Anyone? 

Two days ago, in a discussion with my son, I was moaning about the grading, and he said, predictably, 'Just give 'em all As.' And I said, also predictably, 'The thing is, I feel like I need to give comments.' And he said, 'Just say, Good job.' To which I am thinking, not a bad strategy, sonny. I'm thinking right now: three things you did right, three things you should keep working on, is my new comment template. We'll see how it goes.

RETURN TO POST: But before I could start reading and commenting, I had to wake up.

DIGRESSION: Last night, we had a lovely party at our house because my brother and sister-in-law are in town and they're not usually in town. So I made two kinds of soup--three, because I made two kinds of chowder plus one kind of green soup--and bought bread (Xref: still no oven) and cheese and cut up two pineapples and put pistachios in a bowl. And so forth. Other people brought fruit and snacks and more bread and desserts galore. It was a fine affair. We have loads of white flowers in square vases from the wedding, and we lit all the Christmas lights and my brother got out his guitar and my son his ukulele, and it was just lovely. But, as you may surmise, I did no grading yesterday. Also, this morning I had a we-had-a-party hangover. 

RETURN TO POST: So I lolled about in bed until my eyes felt sort of alert, and then I worked out, and then my sister came over to retrieve her purse that she left hanging on the bannister at the party last night. Then I bought some milk and made oatmeal. And ate it, while reading the paper, etc. 

Anyway, you can see that I got a late start. Then, because of all the wedding shenanigans of the week before, my laptop felt a strong urge to back itself up which slowed the internets down to approximately the speed of something super slow, which made clicking on URLs too annoying until the backing up was completed. So I did some laundry.

DIGRESSION. I know, this post is all about me procrastinating AGAIN. I KNOW. 

RETURN TO POST:  In the end--I am fast forwarding--I got all the group projects graded. In the end, I just have to grade the reflections tomorrow, then look at the totals, then cry about it, and then submit the final grades. In the end, it will have been worth it, after all.

DIGRESSION:

And will it have been worth it, after all, Will it have been worth while, After the slow internet and the snack breaks and the broken oven, After the laundry, after the pistachio shells, after the Facebook breaks— And this, and so much more?—

RETURN TO POST:  No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be. I mean, I'm only human. In the end, there has to be an end, and I have to reach it, and submit my grades, and move on. Which will happen tomorrow, come hell or high water, where I will hear the mermaids sing each to each, &c &c, and on Wednesday, i.e., the day after grades are due, the oven installing man will come to my house. And then there will be a celebration that involves butter and sugar and no more portfolios for a month.

Ten things to do when you have finished the grading.

1. Lie down. You really should. You deserve it. Lie down and finish your novel, or if you are not reading a novel, start one.

2. Review your agenda. In my case, the agenda is entitled, The Get the House in Order Project, and it was wildly ambitious. Some of the stuff on that agenda--that stuff can be done later. Maybe in a few weeks. Resume your lie-down.

3. Okay, fine, get up. Think about dinner. Make soup and make blueberry scones because there are (a) blueberries in the refrigerator and (b) no reasons necessary to make scones if they are delicious and you want to. (check out the butter technique in that recipe--it is legit.)

4. Read some more. Take a short nap.

5. Watch tons and tons and tons of basketball. Revel in both the sloppy and the elegant play of the post-season, especially when you have no horse in the race, no dog in that fight, no team that you particularly care to root for. Learn other teams' players' names. Root for a team that is almost certain to lose to either (a) the Spurs or (b) Miami, depending on which part of the tournament you're prognosticating.

6. Read the nice comments students sent you. Remind yourself that you only had to wrangle with just one student, and even there, the wrangle was civil and is now resolved. Forget about the time when you woke up thinking about said student. Just let that go.

7. Sort through your winter clothes and put them away. Remind yourself how many freaking sweaters you have, not to mention skirts. Make vows about shopping, vows that will no doubt be fruitless but which feel salutary whilst putting the sweaters, not to mention skirts, away for the season.

8. Catch up on the last few episodes of The Mindy Project. This can be done concurrently with nearly any item above, but is worth enjoying on its own. However, eating a scone while watching television will never go amiss.

9. Think about China. China China China!

10. Put off decisions about meetings and commitments. They are out there, calling to you in faint, distant voices. But they can wait. They can wait while you open the windows (figuratively--it's still a little chilly) of your summer life and let the wind chimes make a beautiful, apt music, a music that is spring and the end of grading and the taking in of a deep, expansive breath. Breathe it. Just--breathe.

The sick, which is the enemy of going to the movies.

I am better now. However, in the gift economy that is unique to marriage, the historian was stricken with the very same sick. This means that for two successive weekends: no movies. The horror.

The sick has also given me, us, our pack of three, opportunities to contemplate things like:

• how much dust there is everywhere.
• how much money I have spent on stuff.
• how things like buying a car to replace the smashed Camry or grading seem completely monumental when considered from a prone position.
• that I am mortal and we are all going to die.

It is good to be on the upswing from the sick. Really good. It's good to take a walk in the afternoon with Bruiser and admire the weather, which itself is on an upswing from the rain/snow of earlier in the week. We have figured out how to buy the car, or The New Camry, as I like to refer to it. I am grading, or blogging, same thing, right now, and it seems possible that I can dig myself out of the grading hole, or hell, same thing, that I am in now.

Maybe that's the best thing about being sick--when you get better, you just feel grateful for what is. Getting back the ability to not feel defeated by your life.

Dear grading.

Dear Grading,

I am in the middle of you, and I am not speaking metaphorically.

As a bonus thought, I will be in the middle of you until December. And then it will be Christmas, and there will be Christmas stuff to be in the middle of. And then, January, and by January 20th, say, I will be in the middle of you again. Until May.

Grading, you have a large, all-encompassing morass of a middle.

Sincerely,

htms

Here's the thing:

I got up at 6:30 to be at the Publication Center at 7:30 so some students could work on their stuff, and print, and bind. I was in the room with the hot glue and the sharp blade until 11:30. And then there was a meeting. And then there were e-mails and phone calls from students. And students who were all, "So basically you're saying I'm missing three or four things?" with a chagrined chuckle, and I was all, "yeah." And the grading hovering in the short distance.

And still, the people, it's Friday. FRIDAY. And it's also...the end, almost, of the semester. Let the unwinding commence. I said let it commence!

Realistic.

I planned, this week, the week of finals, to be in my office on several successive days, to allow for drop-ins (drive-bys?) from students with questions or last minute thises and thats, to do some grading, to write some documents, and probably to deck the halls with boughs of holly falalalalalalalala, etc. A sensible person would have had a more focused, a narrower, a more realistic agenda. Also, a sensible person would not have set a final due date of tomorrow for stuff to come in. (Note to self: must be more sensible about due dates!) Needless to say, this is more of what happened:

On Monday, I arrive. I plug in. I take a sip of a warm beverage. I contemplate my list. Then, Unexpected Person Number One drops by to say, "Hey! remember when you gave me that incomplete exactly one year ago? Whaddya know, I finished my stuff! It's on my e-portfolio! Have you read it yet? When do you think you'll be able to turn in my grade?" I tell him I will definitely read his work, give him the grade he has earned, definitely by the deadline.

I sip my beverage. I open an e-mail. I sort through what I have and don't have from my students. I send a few e-mails of the "When might I expect this item from you, this item that was due yesterday?" variety. Then, Unexpected Person Number Two drops by to say, "I have a disaster, and you are my faculty leader. Fix it." I tell this person I will fix it, I surely will. I assure this person I will write a strongly worded e-mail, I will make a phone call, I will raise holy hell. I take a gulp of the beverage, and look at my list, and revise my expectations downward.

Etcetera.

It is the end of Wednesday, I have not written any documents, I still have stuff to sort through and numbers to plug in on my grading grid. This week thus far, I have not, in fact, graded one thing whatsoever. Also, I have Christmas presents to buy for the grandchildren! And, for that matter, a Christmas tree. And I need butter. So here is my new plan:

1. Grade things. Everything, in fact.

2. Buy a Christmas tree.

3. Buy some butter.

4. Bake like a madwoman, after the grading is done.

I hope you'll notice that "grade things" was the number one item on my agenda. That means I gots priorities.

Stats: pre-solstice, post-teaching.

Teaching: done.

Baked goods: one cake baked; eaten. None remaining.

Illness: inevitable possible cold.

Grading: all still awaits.

Movies: two.

Mood: rainy but optimistic.

Crossword: yesterday's.

Housekeeping: que porquería.

Young men in their twenties in the house: two.

Online status: powering down.

Semester: almost, almost over.

I am so so very tired.

I had this distinct thought while I was teaching today--actually still teaching, on the very last day of class--"Why am I still talking?"

So much talking.

I am looking forward to the grading, in silence.

Soon.

Soon there will be grading a-plenty, and after that or maybe before, a Christmas tree and lights, and baking and gift-buying and birthdays, at least at my house, and festivities galore. GALORE.

But before that, I am trying to do a little writing. This afternoon, I went down to the Roasting Co. for a few hours and took out my second manuscript, the one that I worked on during my sabbatical, and tried to do a little assessment and revision. The last time I did this was one month ago, I happen to know, because one month ago was the date on the notes and drafts I looked at then.

I have to say, it felt good. It took a minute, though, to get in gear. First I had to locate everything, both hard and digital copies. Then, I had to note which drafts were pretty far along, and therefore closer to finished, and which ones weren't really drafts at all. Then, I had to assess my resources--my inner resources--to see which project I was capable of addressing.

I got there when it was still light--at 2 in the afternoon. I had to sit tucked away in back because there were no window seats, but that was okay--less traffic. When I left, it was dark, but I had a draft that was significantly closer to being finished(-ish) than when I arrived. I believe I will do the same tomorrow, and hope that it takes a little less time from arrival to sinking in. I have three fat piles of notes that aren't drafts yet, and I think I will try to get one of those into a draft(-ish).

Perhaps tomorrow, I will also grade. But I believe that before I grade, I will write.

Early to rise.

Monday night, I was sorting the set of writing assignments from my grammar/style class (Editing Assignment #2). The sorting meant putting the papers for Tuesday's student conferences into one pile, those for Wednesday in another, those for Thursday and those for Friday into two more piles. Then I carefully lay the piles atop one another crosswise.

This process is what I call "grading." Or more precisely, "pre-grading." It was too exhausting to actually "grade." So I said to the historian (say it with me now): "I'm going to get up early tomorrow morning to grade."

And then I said (wait for it:): "So I'm going to go to bed early."

Cue me at midnight, having been in bed for nearly an hour. Am I asleep? No.

Note to self: "go to bed early" is a meaningless phrase (clause? you tell me, Grammar Police, similar to the Karma Police, but with a less beautiful melody to their theme song). Any "go to bed" before midnight is pointless.

Anyhow. Cut now to 5:45 a.m. I am dreaming some beautiful/lousy dream (which? you tell me, Dream Police, I can't remember). I hit the snooze button on my cell phone. Five minutes later, I hit it again, then say these immortal words: "Oh right. I want to get up."

At 7 a.m. I am at work. I am sitting in the student center with my stack of nine papers (that's today's crop). I am listening to Rostropovich playing the Bach Cello Suites and I am reading papers and I am--get this--enjoying myself. Quite a bit. At 7 a.m. Grading.

As of this moment, which is 11:24--that means it's 36 minutes to "go to bed"--I am feeling it, this long day preceded by not enough sleep. But it was a pretty good day. Okay, a full-on good day.

My agenda.

1. Grade.

2. Lunch with birthday boy grandson.

3. Consult with 3 students.

4. Grade.

5. Scavenge dinner.

6. Grade.

7. The Office.

8. 30 Rock.

9. Walk the dog.

10. Grade.

TAGS: tedious

Give me a G! Give me an R! Give me another R!

What's that spell? Grrrrr . . . . ading.

I like to have a method for everything, the people, and I know you like me to have a method too, so I can blog about it. Here's this semester's method:

1. Make a grid, with the students' names, the various categories for which there are possible points, a column for total points and a column for the grade. This is what's known as a "gradebook." They make them in both print and electronic versions. I like to make my own.

2. Put points in the grid that I should have been tracking all along, but why? when I can do it now?

3. Lie to myself in a grandiose, extravagant, and not-remotely-attached-to-reality fashion about how long it will take me, viz., "Oh yes! It will be done by Friday" (posted on Tuesday).

4. Buy a Christmas tree. Decorate it.

5. Add many new blogs to my Google Reader. My old blogs were getting a little sparse, a little threadbare (yes I'm talking to you if you don't post very much I hate you Facebook).

6. Define milestones. For instance, grade a whole set of this. Then rest. Then grade a whole set of that. Then go to a movie. Why rush? There's no need to rush. Christmas is, like, next week. That's days and days away.

7. Check the Facebook updates of people who are finished grading. Curse them. And love them, but: curse them!

8. Have a small crisis of self-worth. It goes like this: why did they (the students) do (pick your disappointing student behavior--fail to turn in X, scatter their group project documents hither and yon, fail to complete crucial, culminating project Y, etc.)? I am a terrible teacher. Their failings are my fault.

9. Regroup. Strategies for regrouping: toast. Cookies. Mid-grading blogging. Repeat step 8/step 9 sequence as necessary until all milestones (see step 6) are completed.

And yet, having completed a milestone, I am feeling rawther cheerful about the grading. Hello, I must be going to a movie. More grading later. Ta ta.

Fa la la la la la la la la.

1. Crafts extravaganza.

In which the first seasonal episode (surely the last!) of egregious overspending at the craft store leads to a swell morning with grandchildren.

Retro buttons, dressmaker pins with pearly heads, styrofoam cones. Five grandchildren, ranging from age 2 to 6. That's right, sharp objects and small children. Four children and two adults made button trees, which are, I think we can all agree, damned cute and very merry.

Cloves, oranges, a nail for pre-poking the holes for the cloves, tea light candles. That's right, another craft including poking. The kids mainly vetoed this, the pomander craft. They wanted to move on to the cookies. And really, who can blame them.

Sugar cookies (Dr. Write's recipe, thank you very much as it worked beautifully and tasted great), icing in three colors (white, red, green), and about a dozen different kinds of sprinkles. Can you really have too many sprinkles? I don't think so. Each kid decorated about six sugar cookie trees, with optional icing-sprinkles-icing-more sprinkles layering. Also, intermittent cookie eating.

Lunch: paninis or peanut butter and honey or peanut butter and jam, or all three. Carrots, chips, grapes, oranges. Root beer. This was a big hit.

2. I really should be grading.

In which I yet again procrastinate moving from pre-grading (organizing scores, seeing what I have and what I don't, and yet again sending the "did you forget . . .?" e-mails which I swear swear swear to myself I'm going to stop doing) to the grading, and buy a Christmas tree.

It is beautiful, I only had to discard two strands of lights after having first tested them to see if they worked, and they worked, and then I put them on the tree and they didn't work. But that only made me a little sweaty. And now it is gorgeous. My grading will occur in a much more festive atmosphere. And it will be finished by Friday. Oh yes! It will be finished by Friday.

See for yourself:

TAGS: crafty, overspendy, festive, O tannenbaum, pre-grading

You're what? Already?

Last night at the English dept. party, it became clear (through casually dropped references made by a number of my blogging posse) that they are already grading.

What are they thinking? Can it be true? or is it a conspiracy to make me feel bad about myself (I'm pretty sure such conspiracies are being plotted on a daily basis--otherwise, how can I explain all my self-loathing?)?

I had to reassure myself that I wasn't a slacker by reminding myself that I, too, am "grading" online discussions and posts. But are we talking about full-on, "they handed in their assignments and now I must grade them," kind of grading? I really like to get a full head of steam which easily takes three or four weeks into the semester, and which usually involves parking my car facing downhill, before I go there.