Observations on three years of ejournaling:

1. I wondered when I started if I would keep it up. Though I have kept a journal on and off since I was a teenager, this is the longest stretch of continuous journaling I have ever managed. Throughout those three years, my interest in it and time for it have fluctuated a lot, but the smallest number of posts I have ever made is one per week. I don't obsess over how much I post, I do what comes naturally. Sometimes that means the floodgates are open and I can't type fast enough, other times that means I write a couple of sentences occasionally.

2. When I click the "next blog" button, 95% of the sites I get were created in January or February 2005. Maybe because that feature is a new-ish part of the Blogger template, and it is too much of a hassle to add for people with pre-existing designs? (I'm not even sure how long it has been around, because I rarely make changes and only noticed it a few weeks ago.)

3. Also learned from "next blog," there are an enormous amount of ejournals that are just spam disguised as a blog. What a waste.

4. I alternate between thinking, "hey, it's just a diary, so what" to "wow, it really is a modern phenomenon." But then I read all the people over-analyzing and I snap off the machine and go do something else. At that point I remember Elwyn's 70 volumes, and "diary" wins the day. Except it isn't "so what," once again it's the little picture trumps the big picture, because the little picture is the big picture.

The story here is not about whether blogging is journalism. The story here is all the people typing their hearts out. Whether it's high quality or low brow, literary or political, cat pictures or teenage giggling. (I could do without the "F" word addicts, but hey, whatever.) I always used to marvel at email in the "early days," thinking that it had resurrected the art of letter writing. Well, maybe not everyone is as eloquent as the old letters I might feature in my virtual museum, but why should there be elitist gatekeepers? Click on, and don't read it. (I admit spam is a drag.)

5. Something about the online discussion environment enables incivility. This is true to some degree even in moderated arenas, such as my course websites. I'm guessing it is the semi-anonymous nature of it. (Yes, talk radio and cable television talking heads compete with online discussion for the title of most rude.)

6. I regularly read less than 10 blogs. Sometimes I manage to surf around and read others, and probably spend too much time doing it. I also go through long stretches where I am lucky to get to my regular reads, or I simply lose interest entirely. I rarely leave comments. Not sure why I am not as enamored with the "communication" aspect as the "modern phenomenon" folks from #4. I guess it is my anti-social nature (or maybe I am thinking this way because I have been reading essays, and my students invariably argue for the wonders of socialization in the classroom). But since I don't get many comments, I suppose it is good that I feel this way.

7. The A List, B List, C List etc. are high school level cliquey, a geek popularity contest. There is a fascinating article about traffic here. The A, B, C lists are mentioned, and although it's not really on-topic for #7, I thought it was a very interesting analysis (thanks Sya).

8 & a long semi-related tangent. When I started ejournaling I was afraid it might a) require too much self-censoring and b) cut into my "real" writing time. I'll address "b" first. I believe it has been both good and bad in impact. I am definitely writing more, but it is different than before. While "more" is always welcome, I need to get back to working on my book. (This is another reason why I felt relief in "a," below.)

About "a," self-censoring, this is a major focus of writers, when they write anything that will be read by others. And unless you burn that little spiral notebook in the nightstand, that might become "public" also, although not as immediately.

I have chosen not to be anonymous, so I avoid writing as much about students as I probably would if this was private. I doubt many find their way here, or if they did, that it would interest them enough to return. I also am not concerned if they do visit. I am an upfront person and have no problem behaving that way with students. I understand the status differential, and I do my best to neither violate it inappropriately, nor maintain it artificially. In other words, I believe in being real. At the same time, I don't want to write things that might hurt a student reading it. So I write things I am comfortable sharing.

Recently I have not been writing about something. It is not a big deal, but I haven't told the students yet. I have known for a few weeks, but decided to wait until after midterms. I don't want anyone to bail out and leave me with stacks of assessments to complete! Anyway I am hoping if I bury it here in this long, tedious post about ejournaling reflections, stray surfers from campus will not notice (most don't read the required articles, you think they'll bother with this tome?).

The plug is going to be pulled on the urban ed program at the end of the semester. The courses probably will not be offered again, and the undergraduate minor and graduate certificate will be discontinued. It is a bittersweet situation. When I found out, my overwhelming feeling was...relief. This is my third semester and I was beginning to wonder how I would ever shed the responsibility. It has been interesting, and a challenge, and in those classes there is a sense that "something is going on," but it has also been too much work, too much aggravation, and taken too much time, for not enough money.

I'm not the kind of person who can do the same thing forever. I have been teaching for five years, I still like it, it seems new and I am always learning something. Every semester is a fresh start, that is one of its many charms. But I don't want to endlessly do the same course or courses, and teaching can be a burn-out job. It is energizing, and draining, all at the same time.

In addition, urban ed came with a lot of supervisory responsibilities. This isn't humble, I am kind of skilled in that area from my days in administration, and I did miss leading a team. After doing it again I remember that it is a frustrating task. Maybe it is my anti-socialness rearing up again, but I am looking forward to returning to working independently, with complete control. It looks like I am going to get to develop a new smaller course of my own in the fall, instead of doing gigantic, impersonal, complicated urban ed. And of course, I am keeping my other non-urban ed teaching and administrative duties. If I am lucky, I might have some time to get back to my book.

However, this will be the last semester for the students. I have to tell them, this week or next, I think. I hope they don't read it here first! Luckily, two of the five graduate students who are on the team are graduating in May. But that still leaves the others, and the undergrads who aren't seniors. Sorry folks.

OK, back to self-censoring and my ejournaling reflections.

9. I am always amused by how people stumble here. Lately, the journal itself gets lots of hits for some variant of "unfreezing pipes." Now the searchers were probably very disappointed, since I don't think I have provided a how-to, I think I was just describing my morning or something. So maybe I should write up a bunch of tips, I certainly have experience. How is this: Best thing to do is prevent it from happening in the first place. Open closet doors where pipes are when you hear it will be cold. Drip the faucet. If they are already frozen [duh, that's why you're here, right?] it is probably better to call a plumber unless you know what you are doing. Incoming water pipes are under pressure and are much more likely to burst when defrosting than drain pipes. Above all, do not put a blow torch on the pipes. That is how fires start!

The Gully Brook Press website, especially the virtual museum, is one reliable provider of traffic. In particular, people often search for information on bungalow houses, one room schools, and the Battle of Saratoga. Sometimes the search terms make me really uncomfortable. For instance, I saw this: "free summary for the man who corrupted hadleyburg." Luckily, all I have is a quote from that book on my bio page, so this cheater went away empty handed. But that made my anti-plagiarism blood boil. Hey! Instead of plagiarizing, you should read that book, and maybe learn something about bad character, loser.

10. Quite a while ago, Chad wrote about blogging, and how he missed jf cates. It was a good post, and I'm not sure why I didn't comment, but as I mentioned, I hardly ever do. Anyway, I was thinking about the Tuesday Too. I found it in my first few weeks of ejournaling three years ago, before I had any clue what this was about (whatever that means, as if I do now?). That was a "conversation" I enjoyed, and her site helped to introduce me to the world of blogs. (Ugh! When will I get over hating that word!) She deserves a big thank you. I miss her too, and wish her well.