책임감

1. 자기 일도 잘 처리 못하면서, 남의 일에 신경쓰는 건 무슨 얼어죽을 책임감인가?

이런 걸 바로 오지랖이라고 하는 건가?

2. 보낸 지 3달이 다된 이메일에 답장하나 못해 줄 정도로 정말 세상 혼자 사는 것 처럼 바쁘게 사는 사람을 마트에서 우연히 마주쳤을 때란. 이건 내가 조급한 건지 상대방이 느긋한 건지 모르겠네;;

New start!

Reading others' blogs, I've been wanting to write a blog as well.

I'm not sure what I want to blog about for sure yet because I'm interested in so many different things: writing, reading, books, food, fashion, movies, etc. Besides, I consider myself as an "normal" human being, who tries to do her best while struggling through every moment of life, among so many talented, special, interesting people. Nevertheless, at this point, I think I will start with myself--who I am, what I am doing, what I feel, and what I learn on a daily basis. (I don't even know who would read this blog. ever.)

Anyway, for those who accidentally visited my blog,

Welcome :)

Lost in philosophy

Finishing up Teaching Philosophy today, and about to write second one, I feel I'm lost in the world of philosophy. Actually these questions are what I've been wondering about at times through this semester. What does philosophy of composition have to do with teaching philosophy? How does that integrate into the same category? What I found interesting is it really does integrate sometimes, and I think the reason is because of the particular characteristic of composition that requires teachers to be "teacher" teacher.
I don't doubt probably someone who reads the phrase "teacher" teacher might nod. Teaching writing is definitely different from teaching literature or chemistry. There's nothing to memorize or understand content-wise. It's just a matter of what you think and what you want to talk. What you have in mind becomes your content, the topic, and everything. There would be no one who would scold you since you did not include in your writing this formula or that historical background. That's why how to teach really matters in composition, and maybe that's why we can't ever get the right answer to this question: what is a good writer?

When teachers meet students...

I still vividly remember the first day of the grad school this semester. It was my linguistics class, Principles of Language by Dr. Min-joo Kim. I was tired before I entered the classroom, and I was excited when I got out of the classroom. I was full of energy, joy, excitement, and delightment.
This very first class relieved all the concerns and worries about my academic choice, and since that Monday, Dr. Kim has been my role model, wanna-be, and great teacher.

The reason why I found her lecture so impressing and touching was not what she taught us that day. We did not learn much of the contents that we were supposed to cover since most of us didn't have textbook with us. Also, as the course name might imply, what she talked about was just basic ideas of what Linguistics is and its subclasses. What made me so big fan of her class was her sincerity. She told us

"I don't think all of you are my students. I think of you as my collegues because everytime I teach, I learn something new while working with every one of you. It's not because you are graduate students. It's the same as I meet undergraduate courses. It's so amazing that I discover something new from our class. So, that's my pleasure, and I am grateful that I can have you in my class."

It was just surprising to see her attitude to her students, with attachment, respect, and reponsibility. And I wondered whether I could have that kind of mindset when I get to teach my students next year, or even if it is really true that you can learn from your students. Spending over a decade of academic career, who would really be able to think they learn from students? Some people might not get that. After all, the fact is that they know more than us.

But I figure what Dr. Kim meant by that she could learn from her students was "sincerity.": Pure, passsionate, and sincere pursuit of academy. There's nowhere that we can learn this sincerity but from students. It's not on the textbook, or it's not on the tons of articles that we read every single day. No one teaches what kind of mindset we should have in teaching. The answer is right there with us, with your students.

Errors

I'm thinking what questions I have through the semester so far. Hmm... questions.... Sometimes I'm even confused even at the fact whether I do have a question or not. Honestly, it's just all grey area in my head at times, and I don't even know if I really know this subject. Thinking back with the brain half burnt out, all I could recall now is the topic that we had pretty recently.
It was about the error, the discussion led by Jake. I vaguely remember we were talking about the errors that freshmen made, to what extent we can overlook those, so and so forth.
I know we've been hearing that we should be nice and not too mean to freshmen when grading, but I've slightly disagreed with that. As Jake said, they are in college now, not in high school any more. So, it's imperative that they be required to show some degree of professional mindset and formality in writing as long as they are IN the college. Okay, then let's just accept the fact that we should help them not to be terrified by bitter, harsh, and painful comments so they won't run away from the chance they get better. Then, when are we going to do that? When are we starting to give them unpleasant-to-hear real help? Isn't it true the proverb urging us that spare the rod, spoil the child? Once you want your child to eat with the silverwares, you should teach how to use it from the very first time. If you overlook the first time when they grab food with their hands, they would think it is okay to have it without silverwares because they know their moms will be happy anyway with only the fact that they can eat by themselves. But, the fact is that we expect them to behave in more sophisticated manner as they grow up, and this is why we need discipline at the first moment. The earlier they learn and we explain why, the sooner they become aware of the importance.

Yes, it's THEORY,THEORY, THEORY!

I've never thought about theory until I came to the graduate school. No, actually I have, but let's put it this way; I did not perceive theory as the way it should be understood. This truly shows how much I gave it reflection in my life. Very little. Almost nothing. At the same time, it's funny that I didn't consider theory as an option or choice that I can take, which nevertheless is the very essense of it. Even when I took Japanese linguistic theory, it didn't occur to me that it is a "theory," let alone I knew what I could do with it. The reason why I start with this stupid and embarrassing part of me is that I think I found what I have to do with "theory."

It sounds condescending and arrogant, but actually what I found is a very small fact. Maybe everyone else already knew it and gave up on it already, but to me, this comforting little fact explains everything. That is, theory is just theory. It might seem too ominous and depressing, but I found it very relieving in a way that it takes off all the concern and discomfort that I have about theory.

But when you think of the purpose of theory, it's not supposed to be this hard. It should not be this negative and disquieting. Theory gives you more ideas, options, and choices, and you get to have lots to say. So, I'm here in the middle of a classroom wondering whether I will ride on the comfort saying "theory is theory" or switch over to the messenger of "expressivism," "social constructivism," and "multiculturalsim."

I don't think I can come to a decision right away. I might not be able to do that until at the end of the semester or maybe, not quite happily, even at the moment that I would be on the podium. But maybe I overlooked its uncertainty over the possibility of change, whatever it is concerned. Apparently, there is a small window of opportunity, and all it asks you to do is try. But why are we hesitating? What are we waiting for? And why are we ignoring the chances?

Process? or Product?

As some of you who already read my last blog promt about "voice" might notice, my process is insanely complicated, which doesn't always mean "well-organized." To answer the question "how do you write?,"I do outline what I want to say on a piece of paper as much possibly detailed as it could be; I divided into several blocks for introduction, body, and conclusion, and with one deep breath, I start to fill those blanks out. Sometimes, I get lost in the middle while thinking if this idea is strong enough to support that idea or if that one is overlapping the other one. When I feel the outline is specific and supportive enough, I start to type with my laptop. I don't know why, but I prefer working with my own laptop to working with the desktop in my office. Writing following the outline, I go back a lot and try to see if I miss or skip something or if I use certain sentence structure repetitively. This makes my work delayed so much more than I always plan beforehand. I know I shouldn't do that, but honestly I'm still doing that(even now!). Other than that, I think my process is similar to others. Finishing up the writing, I move on to proofreading and editing. Then, work is done.



I'm not sure if I say this here, but I think myself as an unskilled writer. I'm even confused at the definition of what is skilled or unskilled writer, but when I read about the process of unskilled writer in the previous essay, I was able to be sympathetic to the process of whoever it was. It doesn't mean I hate writing(I used to hate, but I don't any more). So, I could pretty much assume how they feel when they write and what they think about their works. Especially, I was surprised at some of the commonalities they have in writing such as they don't like to express themselves out in the writing since I felt the same way before, or maybe I do somewhat even now.

When thinking of the experience, with my hand not really moved for the next sentence, my head full of the nameless ideas, and my heart beating trillions times a minute, it's not that happy to be "critic" grading kids' assignments. Some of them might not even care writing, and some of them might be born with brilliant talents making impeccable stories. Still, there are students short of breath, biting finger nails whenever they grab pens to write something and try to find "the word." They might spend days and nights to figure that out and get close to the writing that sounds fabulous enough to say "I'm done!." However, it doesn't necessarily guarantee that they will have "A"s since it is too difficult to evaluate papers considering how much they devoted to this work or how well a student follows the thinking process. After all, it's all about the product; all we see is a piece of paper and letters. My question is, how can we evaluate individual efforts and process?

One of the approaches that I came up with is to really "know" the students. As doctors cannot cure the patients if they don't know what their patients' symtoms are, if you don't know their expectations and needs, there is no way we can help them to get better. Therefore, I think we need more intense composition class in terms of the relationship between students and teachers. Once you get to really know your students, what they are weak at, or how their processes are, I think it will definitely make it easier to consider the process. On the other hand, it could also be controversial when it comes to the fairness. Anomousity might prevent unjust assessment and help fair evaluation, but it shouldn't do harm on the very essence of what they need: consistent attention and constant value on what they work through.