Last night, Ma emailed to let me know that someone had responded to my last letter in the Olive Press. The response letter is here, scroll down.

I couldn't sleep after reading it. I couldn't believe how personally, and specifically, the writer attacked me. So, I got up and wrote a response. The paper comes out every two weeks, so it won't appear in print or at the website until then. Today I sent two additional emails on the subject to the paper, not for publication, but just to express my concern and outrage. All three follow. The letter for publication is not a nutjob manifesto. The two emails are more emotional, but I needed to vent. I don't think there could be a greater insult to me than to call me unethical.

When I Googled his name, I did learn a few other things about him than what I mention in the second email. The most interesting, he's a landscape designer. Bob joked, maybe we should call him up and ask him if he wants to mow our lawn this summer. What else would someone with that title do in Denning? So much for Yale degrees. (I can be elitist too, you see.) He's gay. He's from NJ. His partner is from Puerto Rico and writes plays. His mother died earlier this month. (That is the one thing I feel bad for him over. But it still doesn't justify attacking my character.)

Something I didn't include in the part about theft from indigenous peoples, since the letter is more important in the print edition: Click here. Go to page 2. Scroll down to "Andrew Eckert," the picture is on the right. His mother was named Betsy North. Now, do you think maybe there was some of the Algonquian-speaking people's blood in his veins? (Somehow I suspect it is more likely than Ward Churchill's claim.)

To The Editor:

Imagine my surprise, upon opening the Olive Press after its recent hiatus, to discover a letter that attacks me, and in such a personal way! Apparently this person is not even a district resident, yet he has been annoyed enough by my words to take the time to write to the Olive Press. The letter writer challenges me to answer the questions he poses honestly. Well, I'm not sure who he thinks he is, to demand an accounting, but as all who know me are aware, I am never less than perfectly truthful, and so I will oblige.

Mr. Thayer wonders if I support compensating indigenous peoples (since he freely labels himself "clueless" he will not mind my pointing out that "Native American" is not the preferred term) for lands that were "stolen" by Olive natives, with roots that go back generations? His question makes two assumptions that must be scientifically solved before a thoughtful response can be mounted; first, that there were indigenous people settled in what has been known since 1823 as the Town of Olive; second, if the first assumption is correct (if it is not, this next part is a non-issue) that all of those Olive natives I referenced do not descend from indigenous peoples. How does Mr. Thayer know this? Because he judges based on surnames that sound European? What about matrilineal genealogy?

He then wonders if I support reparations? This question is not as easy to address as his assumptions about Olive's history and residents, but it is one that I have spent a great deal of time studying (not because of Mr. Thayer's letter, however; at the risk of infuriating him once again due to mentioning my advanced degree, I cover the subject in one of my classes). There are persuasive viewpoints on both sides of the reparations issue and I am not sure exactly where I stand. (Or at least I don't care to fully elaborate in a letter to the editor that is already too long; there are a lot of variables to sort out, such as who exactly would be the beneficiaries, who would do the paying, who would administer it, and how to figure out the amount to be paid.) Specific programs, including affirmative action and underrepresented student fellowships, while not precisely reparations, are efforts in our society to address this past injustice. So there is some precedent for taking historical "theft" into account when deciding contemporary "fairness." On the subject of eternity, the jury is still out.

Next, he describes the situation in the Tri-Valley district, but even given the advanced degree that so irritates Mr. Thayer, I was left scratching my head. In the first place, the comparison between districts is flawed. In the OCS district and in the county, it is Olive that does not have the votes, and we have been told that in no uncertain terms by our elected representatives.

Then, according to the NYS Education Department, in 2002-03 Tri-Valley spent $8,614 per student for general education and $19,607 per student for special education. Onteora spent $9,106 per student for regular education and $26,567 per student for special education. Both are considered "Average Need/Resource Category" schools, and both districts spent more than did similar schools ($7,111 per student for general education and $17,042 per student for special education). Also, both were above the Statewide average ($7,595 per student for general education and $17,818 per student for special education). Even if Neversink pays nothing and Denning pays it all, there is no way the disparity between towns in Tri-Valley could be what Mr. Thayer asserts ($33,500 per student).

At first I was not sure why he wasted his time writing an attack letter so specifically directed at me, instead of a more productive endeavor - you know, maybe getting involved in his own town and school, or looking at the beautiful view outside of the window or something. I wondered if he could be one of the Olive Press editorial writers? No, the name did not seem familiar, and although it could be disguised, it is doubtful one of the local journalists would be so personally vindictive. Then I decided that it is because of his extreme hostility toward his neighbors in Neversink due to his taxes and their not implementing the large parcel, coupled with an irrational jealousy over my having the nerve to "show off" my doctoral degree by (gasp) putting the letters after my name. If that upset him, oh well. I was a first-generation college student, and it took me 22 long years to walk across that stage and receive my PhD. I don't "flaunt" it most of the time, but if I want to advertise it on occasion, that's my right. There are a large number of folks in Olive who are pretty d-mn proud of me for earning it, I am still unspoiled enough that I consider it to be a significant achievement, and if that ain't humble enough to suit Mr. Thayer, that's his problem.

Certainly the most personally offensive thing he wrote was to question my ethics. That's a laugh. Now there's the mark of a sore loser - when all else fails, suggest that someone who disagrees with you is immoral, evil, a bad person. Upset the game board, make all the pieces fall to the floor, and run away. Why stop at unethical - why not call me a commie too? (How about "coy commie?;" then he could even use alliteration.) I don't know who Alden Thayer is - frankly, I don't care who he is - he may even be a she - but one thing is for sure. Them's fighting words. Is that plain spoken enough?

Mr. Thayer may scoff, but it does sadden me that some of our neighbors are so resentful. We never knew before the large parcel ripped open these old wounds. (However, it does make it much easier to justify voting with our dollars…what I mean is, don't shop outside of Olive.) In the end, I have concluded that if he is sparing the good people of Neversink his poison pen, I guess I am happy to be of service.

This morning's first email:

This is not a letter to the editor - it is not for publication. I am writing because I am concerned about a recent letter you printed in the current issue of the Olive Press and I wonder if you have any guidelines for what you are willing to publish, or if you include disclaimers.

The letter was signed by Alden Thayer and it attacks me in a rather personal manner. My mother (a pillar of the community, and one of the Olive natives whose family lost land that Mr. Thayer so disdains) was very upset, and emailed me late last night to alert me, so I visited your website and read it. Try as I might, even after taking a sleeping pill, I could not sleep after reading it, and so I got up and wrote a response (I used the "Contact the Olive Press" link on your website which directed it to the Phoenicia Times email address rather than this one that is listed with your masthead, I think). Probably I would not have bothered if I had been able to sleep on it - but I'm not sorry I did. It isn't a post in some obscure online forum - it is printed in a paper that is distributed free of charge to everyone in Olive. Now, the many people who know me and my family certainly won't think less of me because of Mr. Thayer's pointed attack - they will just think he is an AH because (this might be uppity) I am a nice person in an upstanding family.

I even received personal notes and thank you cards, and people called and emailed me and my parents with gratitude when I wrote my original (very long) letter to you on the large parcel subject some time ago. Many people who knew me as a kid said that I had captured exactly the way they feel about the Reservoir and Olive, but could not put into words. They wrote notes that said how proud they are of me for my accomplishments. That might be corny to some people but it wasn't to me. The sincerity of the folks in Olive is what has made me the person I am. They could have given me no greater compliment than to say that my writing expressed the way they feel. That is my goal as a writer.

I really don't care if Mr. Thayer questions me about the rights of indigenous peoples or reparations for slavery, and I also believe that he is entitled to disagree with me on the large parcel issue. It is a free country. On the other hand, I think taking a swipe at my level of education is a pretty cheap shot, but I write that off to jealousy from someone who always wanted to get a PhD but for some reason was unable to earn one - failing the dissertation defense or being unable to write one at all, not getting accepted to a graduate program, or having life circumstances such as raising a family or something of that nature intervene (and instead of making peace with it, always having regrets as a result). I do wonder if he would have so personally attacked me if I was a man, but that is beside the point.

What concerns me is that he calls me unethical. I pride myself on living according to my beliefs and not being a hypocrite. I opposed the construction of a Target that resulted in tearing down the historic Defreest Church House in Rensselaer County. We lost that one (as we may lose the large parcel battle, as our ancestors lost the valley), and the sad day the wrecking ball decimated that gem I vowed to never set foot in any Target - that was two years ago and I have not. I don't believe in extreme consumption, and so I do not drive, I grow organic produce, I recycle everything, and I do not buy something new unless what I have is totally shot (the homeless shelter would not even take my furniture). My tiny capital district house is in a working class neighborhood, and I have no interest in moving to a McMansion in Saratoga County like so many others. I hold my university students to a very high standard, and I am not afraid to take the time, or the professional risks, and report all instances of cheating and plagiarism to the university level.

To call me unethical equates me with scum like the jerks at Enron or even Martha Stewart. I was not unethical as a kid in high school when I lived in West Shokan and I am not unethical as a professor. It has nothing to do with my doctoral degree, it has to do with my moral compass, my upbringing, the fabric of my soul. I firmly believe in doing what is right. In fact I teach courses on Social Morality, Social Responsibility, and in the fall I will teach a course on Tolerance. It has been my life's effort to mentor and energize future K-12 teachers to be models, in the academic and the moral senses, for their students.

Maybe people today watch too many cable television shows where shouting is entertainment and they don't know the difference between TV and real life. But I would never individually attack another letter writer in your paper, and why he singles me out of the dozen letters in every issue that you print about the large parcel frankly scares me. I have wracked my brain about why he would choose me - did I know him in high school? (No, and that doesn't make sense anyway because I was a nobody in high school, not in a clique, apart from strong academics, I was not the darling of OCS - not at all someone others worried about, much less disliked). Does my family know him? Not that I know of. Was he a student of mine (which would be strange, as I am pretty popular with students) who didn't do well or was caught cheating or something? No, and I am sure, as I have only been teaching 5 years and I still remember all my students.

Could he have encountered me somewhere in the community and taken a dislike for some reason? Well, I sort of hide at my house in Samsonville when I am there on weekends, I just want to be with nature, get away, and see my family so that is doubtful. I do go to Olive Day but I don't have a booth or anything, I am a trustee and volunteer for the Historical Society, I take turns with my mother volunteering once a month so the museum in the Olive Free Library can be open, and I am secretary for the Mt. Pleasant Rural Cemetery (I wonder if as the result of the large parcel, we should dig everyone up (for some of them, again) and move them from Shandaken to Olive? hmmm now there's an idea) but I have never had anything but positive interactions in any of those organizations. I simply don't know anyone by that name. I don't think I even know anyone in his town. So his attack springs solely from my letter that you printed that objected to the tone of your editorial? Is Mr. Thayer somehow connected to your newspaper? That seems hard to believe. It is puzzling.

I am not a public official, I am not a member of your staff, I am a private individual and Mr. Thayer's so directly insulting my character is libel - or if it seems too trivial to rise to that level, then it borders on it. In the olden days (which if Mr. Thayer actually knew me, he would know those times are quite real to me), his remarks about my integrity would have earned him a slap in the face and a challenge to a duel.

Thank you.

This morning's second email:

An addendum to my earlier perplexed missive, this is also not intended for publication.

I couldn't take wondering whether Alden Thayer will be lurking in the woods near my house this weekend, or making crank calls to me or my parents, so I finally Googled his name and now the reasons for his irrational libel become clear. He's the head of Denning's planning board, and a weekender or fairly recent NYC-metro transplant. Probably hates locals and spends all his free time in Woodstock grooving with the other Olive haters. Maybe didn't know West Shokan's taxes were so much lower when he bought a place on the other side of Peekamoose and has been furious ever since.

His partner is a Yalie, we all know that means silk purse, while SUNY grads like me are cut from a burlap bag. Probably Mr. Thayer is not a big supporter of public education in general. That one of the rednecks had the nerve to go get a PhD and then write letters where she brags about it! What an outrage! I'll show her. She must be an ignorant racist to champion the rights of the folks in her hometown (witness his reference to White theft from so-called Native Americans and reparations for slavery).

Well, one thing he is right about. He is among the clueless I criticized, he may look at it, but he does not "see" the Reservoir at all, and he never will. He can't, he is small and it is big. It is beyond his comprehension. So I guess that sums up why he took my general letter as a personal affront. Well, I have a long memory. I'd advise Mr. Thayer to refrain from writing any more attacks on my character - if he does I am going to call the police over his harassment. I am not afraid of bullies.

Thanks, I feel better already.

On Saturday, Bob and I went to see Bride and Prejudice. I read a review of the movie where Ebert said that the director's other two movies make you smile just thinking about them. Well, I agree with that sentiment, and this movie makes a third! I didn't enjoy it quite as much as Bend It Like Beckham, but I did walk out of the theatre with a smile on my face that lingered for quite a while afterwards - and frankly, that alone makes it worth the time (and the price of admission)!

Bob and I went to see this play, 110 Flights at the university. Unlike most of the theatre department performances, it was written by a student, and she also plays one of the two characters. As a student effort, it was impressive; the acting was great, and the writer has potential. The set was the best of any I've seen at the university in the past couple of years; in fact, it was as good or better than at professional companies. But in terms of the story itself, the ending was dismal, many of the issues it raises were addressed in a very immature fashion (it was clear that it was written by someone without much life experience), and at times it was downright offensive, in a personal way. Oh well -- we have paid at least five times more for tickets to a performance at a bigger company and been insulted too.

Rudy is almost done with antibiotics and so he had another urinalysis yesterday. He still has blood in his urine. This was not a surprise, because although it is not bright red, sometimes I can tell in the snow that there is still a trace in there. He seems otherwise fine, as he always has been. Any other symptoms are very slight. This is a dog who has always acted half his age.

Anyway, the vet recommends that he go off the antibiotics for two weeks, and then he wants to take a sample right from his bladder, and see exactly what bug in his prostate is causing the infection. This is pretty much a standard procedure for resistant urinary track infections, and bladder or kidney stones, cancer, etc. have already been ruled out. It is not that big a deal, but still, I am not happy, both about Rudy still being sick, and about the next procedure.

Yesterday morning, when I had to catch the urine sample, he was not cooperative - he kept hopping along in the snow as he peed to make it hard for me to collect it. Then he ran behind the shed to finish so that I couldn't get to him at all. He never did this in the past. This bothered me, as we always tell ourselves that we have to make choices for the animals - something like becoming overweight isn't in their control. It is our fault, and we have to be the ones to solve it. But now it seemed to me that he was saying loud and clear that he didn't want any more human intervention. His life, his choice. I think the ultrasound experience has totally scared him, when he used to be happy and fearless at the vet.

Well, I am happy about the break from antibiotics, anyway. I am going to work on building his immunity naturally. Then in two weeks I'll see how I --and he?-- feel.

I finally told the students today (see my explanation buried in #8). Overall they took it well, although naturally the three who are not graduating were not happy. Also one of the graduating students was more upset that I thought he would be -- I guess he felt some ownership of the program after working on it for three semesters, and having it end feels like a personal insult (even though it isn't). He asked me if the reason is political or financial. Good question! Ha, some (and I used to) believe that everything is economic, but I said "political" almost without thinking. I told the undergrads too. They are not impacted as much but they were quite disturbed by the news too. Anyway, I am glad that is over, I have been dreading it for a month.

Something I forgot to add about The Jungle yesterday. One of the things the family does shortly after they arrive in Chicago is buy a house in the slums near the meat-packing plants. They are somewhat ripped off, at least in the sense that they don't understand the contract, and that they think the house is new, but really it is a few years old. It turns out the house had been sold several times before to families who eventually defaulted on the payments and then lost the house.

Anyway, it is described as a four room wood frame row house. I think when I read the book originally I imagined a brownstone of some sort, since I was not really familiar with cities or the architecture of the time, and thought of the urban areas that were familiar to me, and the type of buildings found there. But now that I live in a house that was built in about 1904 (which is almost the same time as the book's setting), I know the kind of house the folks in The Jungle purchased.

My house's original occupants were factory workers at a plant down the hill, and including the attic, my house was four rooms at the time of its construction (now the basement has been converted to living space and it is five rooms). It is a temple house, which is a variant of a bungalow. There are also little structures known as shotguns, and other bungalow relatives, all part of the Craftsman design. So I'm thinking the characters in the book lived in a house something like mine (at least until they failed to make the payments). Amazing to think of the changes in real estate over time. At the turn of the 20th Century, uneducated factory workers lived in my house. At the turn of the 21st, it is inhabited by highly educated professionals. So much for the revolution of the proletariat. Think I should rise up?

I've been reading The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. I read this book when I was a teenager, but at Christmas time when I was ordering gifts from Amazon, I noticed that there was an "uncensored original edition," so I bought it.

Naturally, as with all classics, there is an introduction written by a Sinclair scholar. It was interesting to read how the manuscript was discovered, the struggle to get it into print, the differences between the two versions, and what motivated the changes. However, now that I am about 75% finished with the book, I have a different interpretation than the one advanced in the introduction.

There it is argued that this version, which is still the teacher's standard, was too watered down to have much political impact, even if it did result in numerous reforms to the meat packing industry because people were shocked that food might be unsafe. But the introduction asserts that much of the political message was erased by the way the book was edited (by Sinclair, under duress), and so it did little to advance his socialist agenda.

Before I started reading, I remembered that the book was about the meat-packing industry in Chicago at the turn of the 20th Century, and that the main characters were immigrants with tragic lives. Probably the things I most clearly remembered were that in order to keep her job, the main female character was forced to be the mistress of her boss, and that she died in childbirth. I even distinctly remembered a sentence from the book, about the bloodspot on the floor where she had died.

I am pretty sure that I read The Jungle originally when I was in tenth grade in high school, as part of English class. We had what the school called "selectives" at that time; after taking ninth grade English, students could freely choose six electives to complete the four years of required English. (I think this idea didn't work out, and has been replaced by traditional English 10, 11 and 12 since then.) One of the first selectives I chose was The Novel; two of the other books we read were Giants in the Earth by Ole Rolvaag and My Antonia by Willa Cather.

It was a class that left me with several vivid memories, but not because the teacher or even the reading list were especially noteworthy. It was filled with kids from the popular clique, and most were a year or two older than me - the class did not attract sophomores. Many of the students either did not read or were otherwise clueless, but since they were popular, the teacher (who took every opportunity to be favored among the cliques) liked them anyway. But then the teacher was no genius, I recall that while we were reading Giants in the Earth, he made a remark about male and female oxen! I may have been the only student to catch his mistake, and I remember it hitting me like a thunderbolt that there was a lot teachers didn't know. (I'm not exactly sure why it took until I was 15 to figure that one out.)

In the introduction of the "uncensored" edition it says that although made by the author and not the publisher, the cuts were not done for artistic reasons, but to make the book less controversial. Certainly there is evidence for this (the packing house names were altered to make them even less similar to their real life counterparts), but I am not so sure there were not also valid literary reasons for the changes. Several chapters were cut, and now that I am getting to the end, I believe the book would benefit from some trimming. I am starting to lose interest in the story. Another insight from the introduction, that the socialist message was toned down by the cutting. This may be true, but even as a teenager, the strong socialist viewpoint was not lost to me in the shorter version. It did spark many reforms in the industry; that is quite an accomplishment for any book. Expecting a novel to result in a proletarian revolution is really pushing it, I think! Art does not exist in a vacuum; there were many other agendas at that time competing for air space.

Finally, the introduction states that the editing makes the characters seem less sympathetic. On this point I completely disagree. I do remember this problem with the book from my first reading, but the characters are not more sympathetic to me in the longer version; if anything, the excess description has the opposite effect. I believe the author himself did not identify with the characters. They were simply a tool in his political tract. He seemed to glory in making the characters ignorant. He does not allow the reader to figure things out and draw conclusions; instead he endlessly preaches his message, telling readers how they should feel about the events.

Also, he described the characters in ways that make the reader have no choice but to dislike them -- for example, all except the mother did not care much when one of the children, who was handicapped, died. Then, meat packing is awful. Not only are the sanitary conditions deplorable, which he demonstrated in disgusting detail, but the very nature of the employment is cruelty. This makes it hard to feel empathetically towards the employees. So, all in all, it has been a worthwhile read, but I don't think this version had a different impact on me than the other one did. [Note to students who land here from surfing for information on this book: Don't you dare plagiarize.]

This is today's dose of disgusting modern "culture." Here are the latest two links to the Times Union on bird hatred and cruelty. I don't own a gun, in fact have never shot a gun, and don't think it is a good idea to wildly wave guns around. My mother has one, I think she refers to it as her 4-10, but I could be slightly off because I am not up on guns. She has it at the farm mostly to scare predators away from the horses (that could include predators of the human kind). Although I am not a violent person, in my younger days I did appreciate pranks, and still occasionally fantasize about committing one again. I would never actually carry out the fantasy, however (there's a sentence that would not be necessary if this was a private journal).

Anyway, when I read the latest installment about the ducks in the suburbs, I got a vision of borrowing Ma's 4-10 (if that's what it's called) and shooting out the windows in that jerk's house (or should I say McMansion, because you know that's what he lives in) who has been killing the ducks. (I don't get a similar vision when I read about the crows, because there are far too many nutjobs with guns involved already. I just feel sick. And not about West Nile.) Getting back to the 4-10, though, I've had that same thought about Target's stupid sign for the location that is now where the Defreest-Church house once stood. It being a bullseye makes it even more tempting. The latest mind-numbing TV commercial for that despicable retailer reminds me of this every time.

And speaking of McMansions, a plastic person has had one built down the road. Incredible, in this old village with no vacant land and tiny 100 year old houses perched on all the hills, someone stupidly contracted for an ugly, enormous track house on the steepest slope. It is causing erosion of that hill and run off into the street. When it is cold the run off freezes into an ice/mud creek. I believe the house in front of it is suing because the McMansion violates all sorts of code. As I pass by and see it looming above our street, I wonder what it would look like with its tacky arched windows shot out?

Here's something completely different than 4-10 fantasies. It's a link from the Chronicle (and for a change it's a freebie) that made me laugh. I don't feel that I am treated badly -- maybe because in my former life I was an administrator (with tenure) and so know the meaning of abuse. But even at that, many of these points ring true. It's just that in my case, I don't want to be tenure track instead, I like to be free (see administrator with tenure, above). And if I am honest about what I really want to be, the answer is always the same: a writer.

I'm going to engage in a little obnoxious self-congratulations (the Oscars, the Mark Twain Prize [btw, giving it to Lorne Michaels is an insult to a true humorist's memory], so I figure, why not?). I noticed this article that offers a positive view of the urban ed classes, and it goes a long way towards explaining why the end is bittersweet. (It is an interview with a college student that I had forgotten about, and never checked to see whether the publication was up). Then there is this. It is the syllabus for a college course, someone is using my book. (I'm not sure why, but it was a surprise to see both.) I found them both (and many other things I'd forgotten about too) while clicking through my site counter entries.

My January 28 entry is on this week's Carnival of Education. I'm not sure that it is my best post, but it is OK. It had to be on education and less than a month old when submitted.

Update to yesterday's post: a perfect illustration of #5 in my post from 2/28 about reflections on three years of blogging. Another commenter suggested I would like it better in a communist country! For wanting folks in my hometown to pay less taxes and be listened to by politicians when they speak out! Funny! I have a feeling it is someone local, that when they represent themselves as being from out of town they are not being truthful - I mean, either a teacher in the district or someone from one of the other towns, because of how personal and direct the reference to me is, also for mentioning having my house taken away for nonpayment. Now, I only mentioned my intentions in the Olive Press, who else reads that? Of course I suppose they could have read it here, but then if they were reading this I suspect they would attack me in the comments.

One thing is alarming, though. I mentioned it yesterday, but it bears repeating. It's scary how much hostility there is in the other towns toward Olive. We never knew how much our neighbors hated us. Well, it strengthens my resolve to boycott businesses that are not in Olive when I am in Samsonville for the weekend. It is a challenge, since there are not many businesses in Olive to patronize (hey, that's the point of our frustration with the taxes), but I vow to continue to not spend a dime elsewhere.

My three year ejournal anniversary is today. My post from yesterday details my reflections. I didn't expect to post today, but we had a snowstorm last night, and so I canceled my day class. I am still expecting to go to campus for my evening class, however.

The Freeman covers another large parcel protest. Now, wouldn't you love to be represented by these two jerks? And the commenters - we never knew how much other towns hated Olive until the large parcel surfaced, although having been submerged in water for 100 years, I guess our ability to read others was drowned long ago.

My comment in response to the article: Amazing how so many people have a lot to say about an issue that is quite frankly none of their business. Oh, and expecting elected representatives to care about the people! How uppity of those Olive residents! Who are they to speak out? Don't they know they should be quiet and know their place? (Is that under water and forking over money with a smile?)

News flash folks: We are not moving, we are not whining, and we are not giving up. We are fighting. 100 years ago Olive was the victim of theft of its resources. We aren't going to let anyone, not politicians, not school board members, not residents of other greedy towns, get away with it again. So buckle up, I see the future. There will be a lot of articles in the Freeman like this one.

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.

Maybe because the three-year anniversary of Gully Brook Press is approaching (March 1), but I've been spending more time than usual on ejournaling, both surfing around and tweaking my own. Tomorrow or Monday I'll write some of my reflections on the experience of the past three years (Tuesday is my long day on campus so posting on the actual anniversary is doubtful). Anyway, I have been having some fun today. I've never had a blogroll - that was a good choice as I now know I would never keep it updated - but today I added three "folks" (at right, scroll down, right after the blogger button). Ha. Maybe I have cabin fever or something.

I wanted to know what Molotov at Booker Rising thought about the monument issue, so I forwarded the article.

The Freeman often has good articles that focus on history, if there is a local connection. Today they cover the questions of historical accuracy and artistic integrity raised by adding Sojourner Truth to the Portrait Monument. I have been thinking about that debate and I feel conflicted, in that I can see merits to both sides. The importance of Sojourner Truth to suffrage should not be overlooked, and it is a nice idea to correct this oversight. On the other hand, tampering with the artwork wrongs the artist. Finally, that she was excluded in the 1920s is also a part of history. We cannot erase it. It may be hard to accept that feminists and other progressives of the 1920s did not embrace black women, but Disney World is not a museum.

I think my sympathy is stronger for the idea that we cannot change the past, we instead must focus on now. Sojourner Truth should have her own monument, near the Portrait Monument, to celebrate her achievements. And the interpretive materials at the site should be revised, to explain her contributions to the fight for women's suffrage, as well as the fact that she was not included in the original 1920s commemoration.

I linked to this in the past, but seeing the county historian mentioned reminded me to re-check one of her projects. This site about the poorhouse is coming along.

I read this article by Roger Ebert today in the paper and this clause in the paragraph about the likelihood of Hilary Swank winning best actress so irritated me: "She isn't the most beautiful actress in Hollywood..."

Who is he to judge? How does he define "beautiful?" Just how does he perceive his own looks? Handsome? And what does her beauty or lack of it have to do with winning an Oscar anyway? Does he think the criteria is the same as for the Miss America contest?

Honestly, a lot of the time his columns annoy me, but this was more than usual. That one comment takes the cake. He has been complaining recently that other reviewers have revealed the plot for Million Dollar Baby, and then a couple of weeks ago he did the same thing. I guess since he saw the movie back in December, and he was not the first one to blow the secret, he thought it was OK. (It wasn't.)

Anyway, we saw the movie over the weekend. It was very good, one of those rare movies that is worth the steep price of admission and snacks rather than waiting for the DVD, and it probably deserves to win all it was nominated for, although I have not seen many of the other contenders this year. I'm not going to write much else, except don't go to see it if you are looking for an escape, are already in a sad or bad mood, or prefer to see something light.

I should have been grading papers, but instead I tinkered a bit with the Gully Brook Press website. Nothing major, but after working on it for a while, I remembered why I put this off for so long (the last minor update was a year ago!). It takes forever, even just making small changes.

Some time ago I had installed a counter on most of the pages. That was a mistake, although it was fun to see where visitors came from, I always had to look up the password they assigned me, and I hated the stupid ads that were inserted. Most of the time they were banners for silly emoticons that can be put in email. If anyone clicked on those banners, I figure they probably downloaded spyware or something. Anyway, there are many better counters available now, and I stopped checking that account long ago, but kept putting off deleting the code. So tonight, I finally checked that task off my to do list. I also got started on a new virtual museum for Winter 2005, but didn't get very far with that part of the update.

This is upsetting. Rudy was on Pet Connection when he was a puppy.

I'm not in the habit of reading the student newspaper, but a few days ago I was killing some time in the campus coffee shop and so I picked up a copy. It was pretty much the usual, lots of articles on movies and music, and numerous editing errors. One column in particular caught my eye, since it mentioned plagiarism, and that is a concern of mine. I wasn't aware of the specific case, but I was struck by the author's comment that students don't get riled up by important issues (such as the student association misusing funds -- this is off topic, but is this a constant problem or what? I remember this happening when I was an undergraduate too. Why do so many bad apples get involved? Is it because others are so apathetic?). However, apparently, students were concerned with the plagiarism article -- in the sense that they were angry the columnist had written about cheating by an athlete. Ah, the joys of Division I!

This made me curious, so I checked the Internet, and sure enough, the paper has a (decent) website. I went back to the archived issue with the original article. I also reviewed the subsequent issues, but could not find any letters from students who were upset by the coverage. Maybe the negative comments were verbal? Frankly, I did not find many letters on any subject, so I guess apathy lives, which I suppose was the point of the column from last week.

Just noticed this site, Carnival of Education.

In today's Times Union there was a link to a new blog (ejournal :-) they are hosting for soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.

On a completely different note, there is a great store in Albany, called Huck Finn's Warehouse. That is high praise coming from me because I am an anti-shopper. Anyway, last week, Bob went there and got new livingroom furniture. We'd been considering making an offer on a house that is for sale on our street. It is bigger than our house, in better condition, with a yard that is an acre. In the end we decided against taking on a big mortgage payment and depleting our savings account.

Instead we decided to consume in other household ways, replacement windows being the most significant improvement. Something less important but more fun, our upholstered stuff was very worn out (only partially due to the animals). We tried to donate the loveseat and recliner (the "dog chair" was way past the point of no return) but the woman at the Salvation Army acted insulted, and implied that bums expect to sit on better furniture when they watch their burning barrels in outside camps under the highway overpass. I'm not really exaggerating. So unfortunately it all wound up in the landfill.

Now that we have had the new pieces for a while, it dawned on us that we didn't need a different house, just new furniture! Anyway, Bob done good...



The colorful things in the background are dog toys. (Yeah, they do play with them all, but yeah, they do have too many.)

After reading about his remarks during a speech on social security, I wrote the following letter to Congressman Hinchey. (Yeah, despite what I wrote about not being a letter-writing nutjob, lately, I have been writing a lot, haven't I?)

Thank you, or your staff, for reading my letter. I believe in complete disclosure. The above address and phone number are mine, but it is a weekend house. I am actually registered to vote not in Ulster County, but in Castleton, Rensselaer County, where I spend weekdays. (I teach at the University at Albany, SUNY.) I grew up in your district, in West Shokan in the Town of Olive, and most of my family still lives and works there. I don't actually receive mail at 20 Jomar Lane, but since everyone knows who I am, the postmaster will deliver any letters I receive to my parents.

I have been considering changing my voter enrollment to Olivebridge, because I would very much like to vote in the school board and school budget election (due to the large parcel which is devastating to Olive). However, although fighting for Olive's resources is vital to me, I am not sure changing my enrollment would be ethical, so I probably won't. I read on the earlier screen that you do not respond to non-constituents, but I believe as a 22nd district native and Ulster County taxpayer, I am a constituent. What I mean is that I am not some nutjob who is broadcasting letters all over the place.

Recently your name has been in the national news because of some remarks you made in Ithaca about the CBS News/Dan Rather debacle. Maybe I am sensitive because of the way the media and other towns in the school district and County have been victimizing Olive over the large parcel issue, and then the way Kingston and Ulster have been portrayed on TV because of the recent mall shooting, but I feel embarrassed for you, and for the 22nd district.

You are missing the point entirely, that a respectable network like CBS, the news division, one of America's most venerable programs, 60 Minutes, and Dan Rather did such shoddy research. 60 Minutes has always been one of my father's favorite programs, and we watched it since its inception in the 1970s. I hardly ever missed an episode until September, when they imploded.

If, as you suggest, they were fooled by someone (and to be honest the fakes were not very convincing to anyone who has ever used a computer or a typewriter) it shows incredibly poor powers of discernment for what is supposed to be an organization that prides itself on research. How could they be so gullible? Or did they want to believe the memos, and didn't care if they were faked? What else have they reported over the years that was based on faulty evidence, either because they were naive, or unethical? If your suspicion is incorrect, and they manufactured the memos internally the story is even more chilling.

Mr. Hinchey, I wrote above that I am not a nutjob broadcasting letters; I am not. I am concerned primarily with local issues that concern Olivebridge, the Ashokan Reservoir, Ulster County, Castleton, and Albany. My family is a mixture of Democrats and Republicans, and I am an independent. We don't argue politics that much (OK, my grandmother did, she worshipped FDR and was straight-ticket) but we all vote. In Olive, we all get along pretty well, and take pride in the endeavors of everyone in our community; in some ways that may be another legacy of the reservoir.

Whether I agreed or disagreed with you on an issue, over the years I have thought you are a bright person, admired your career through the Assembly to Congress, felt proud of your Saugerties roots, and believed you to be a worthy representative of my beloved hometown.

But right now I am feeling like you have taken leave of your senses. Having our Congressman make irresponsible and paranoid allegations of conspiracy theories does nothing to highlight our region in a positive way. Yes, some among the fringe elements may applaud you (in my mind's eye I see WDST, the Woodstock Times, and Alan Chartock giving you high fives), but I assure you, the plain folks I know will just shake their heads and think you are not the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe you need a vacation? Why not go spend some time back in the beautiful Catskill Mountains and take pleasure in the beauty of nature. That grounds me when I am uptight. I call this the little picture focus, that is really the big picture. (Washington D.C. surely isn't.) It might bring you back to reality.

What a one-sided article. No doubt about this supervisor's agenda (theft of the resources of a neighboring town). What's amazing to me is that he labels others - in this case, those who disagree with his perspective - "ignorant." Does he have any clue that his inflammatory and insulting words will serve only to make folks in Olive fight harder?

I wish Olive would investigate every avenue for breaking away from the district, then wave bye-bye and take the Reservoir resources, not just because those resources should stay in Olive, but because educational research literature supports smaller schools, not big districts. Consolidation is an idea from the mid-20th Century, it is not modern, it is not efficient, and it does not produce quality.

But until that happens, it is true that the upcoming school board election is very important...for Olive. Four seats are up? Replace every large parcel supporter with someone pro-Olive. The school board / school budget election is one of the few opportunities to have an impact. Do not for a moment believe the company line that the current board spouts. They are trying to paint large parcel opponents as anti-education; that is a typical diversionary tactic. I have devoted my life to public education. The memory of the Board president's patronizing attitude at the public hearings on the large parcel subject is seared in my memory.

Two opinion columns, here and here, that overlook as much of the absurd Churchill story as the Chronicle. Which, by the way finally noticed the rest of the story today (unfortunately it is a subscription site, but the headline hits the nail on the head).

The Times Union notices the Catskill Animal Sanctuary.

The Freeman is all over the shooting yesterday at the Hudson Valley Mall.

And the Chronicle of Higher Education (it's a subscription site) notices the Ward Churchill thing. They focus almost exclusively on the free speech, academic freedom angle, and pretty much overlook any discussion of his questionable (understatement) academic activities; that's a bit strange, since the Chronicle is usually so...comprehensive.

Ugh. I am sick. I have a head cold, and as always, it is really irritating my sinuses. I must have picked it up on campus, my classes were half empty, and everyone else was not feeling well on Tuesday.

But, unlike my usual miserable self whenever I am ill (I am a horrible patient), today I am very happy. I wrote last month that Rudy had been a little sick. After a week of panic, we had good news yesterday, he has prostatitis (an infection in his prostate), which is the least serious thing he could have.

He had blood in his urine since early January. The first two weeks of antibiotics didn't work, so he was given another two weeks of Clavamoxx and an x-ray. The vet didn't see anything in the x-ray, and although the second round of antibiotics seemed to be working, the vet was uncomfortable. So Rudy had to have an ultrasound yesterday. That meant he would have to be sedated. Due to his age he had to go in for blood tests.

They were looking for kidney stones, prostate cancer (because a simple prostate infection is rare in neutered dogs), or urinary tract cancer (which is pretty rare in dogs). The prognosis for prostate cancer is poor, 4 months is considered a long time to live. Anyway, $750 dollars later, it turns out that although he is neutered - he does just have an infection in his prostate, all his organs are cancer free and he has no stones either.

So they switched his antibiotics to Baytril, which is better for the prostate, and he should be fine. Also, they didn't wind up knocking him out. I'm not sure if they muzzled him, but they said he was good. He had to lay on his back the whole time and have his belly shaved. We could tell he was mad at us last night. But, what a relief!

Something I would like to have added to my comment in the Freeman (but didn't, because I didn't want to be petty):

Q: What is one thing Olive has that Woodstock doesn't?

A: A supermarket rather than a CVS.

Ha ha ha...

Print that in the Woodstock Times and a flame war is sure to ensue.

Here is the Freeman's story about the large parcel protest. I just had to comment!

Another thought about the Thursday Threesome question on life after death. I am so interested in the past, I feel connected to it. It isn't just an abstract interest in history, as an academic subject (although that is another important part of the connection). Loving antique furniture, volunteering at two museums, doing genealogical research and memoir writing, serving on a cemetery board and living in an old house near another cemetery...these are all a part of my connection.

Once I wrote that genealogy research isn't just about names and dates on a dusty old page, it's more personal. It starts with seeing a baby's name in an old census, and following that name as it ages, through the decades; then it's locating a tintype of that person, all dressed up in Sunday best; next, it's finding a newspaper clipping in a scrapbook, announcing the marriage with great fanfare and exotic descriptions; then seeing the house, where the couple lived; and finally one day it's standing near a gravestone, displaying the name and dates. The person, who lived 150 years ago, is not some distant figure from the past. That experience spoke to me.

This virtual museum from some time ago is about The Battle of Saratoga. Standing in that battlefield is an other-worldy experience, very powerful. This was another experience that spoke to me.

Both times it spoke about life after death.

More on the large parcel, from the Freeman. This makes my blood boil. On one thing I agree with Wilber, it is a black & white issue, but that is where my agreement stops. The coming of the reservoir in 1904 was theft of Olive's resources by NYC, and the 2004 large parcel is theft of Olive resources by the other towns in the school district and county.

As far as taking the school board out of the decision making process, I don't agree with Leifeld (no surprise there) [more another time]. If the large parcel is going to stay on the books - then I say, keep the board in the hot seat. The school budget and the school board elections are just about the only place where Olive residents can have an impact.

There is a rally on this issue today, at the county legislature. I can't go, of course, but I am there in spirit. We may win, or we may not - but if it is the latter, we are going to go down fighting.

Trying this again, since I am home on a Thursday for a change.

The Thursday Threesome

Nothing is certain but death and taxes --Benjamin Franklin

Onesome: Nothing is certain- Have you ever thought you had a "Sure Thing?" Did it pay off or not?

I'm not sure what this means exactly. So I guess the answers are no, and n/a?

Twosome: But death- Do you believe in life after death?

Not that I don't have occasional hopeless doubts, but yes, I really do, for one logical reason (because what is the point otherwise?) and for a host of other reasons (among them, feelings, dreams, miracles, prayers, signs).

Threesome: and taxes- Have you got all your tax documents squared away and ready to work on? Or are you one of the people at the post office on April 15th?

Well - my documents are all squared away (I am still waiting for one 1099, this reminds me to follow up) and in good order, but I generally do wait until the deadline, or close to it. Maybe this year I won't procrastinate. Now there's a thought!

On and off, the last post I make does not appear on my journal. I have tried all the suggested things listed on help, but they have no impact. One thing that sometimes works, but isn't mentioned is clicking through the archives and then back to "current." But, that isn't working at the moment. So I am making this post simply to see if it appears.

Today's papers report on another disgusting case of animal abuse, involving horses. Amazing how differently it is presented in the Albany Times Union, v. the Kingston Daily Freeman. Maybe reporters in Albany are less sensitive to the subject (and more influenced by the scum attorney's rhetoric), or it could be that since the Catskill Animal Sanctuary is in Ulster County, the local view is more sympathetic to the animals. How can this horrible woman be allowed to keep 40 other horses? It is outrageous.

My second letter about the Large Parcel is in the Olive Press.

My letter about plagiarism is in the print edition of the Chronicle of Higher Education today. Smaller newspapers never cut my letters, but when I have written to a more prestigious publication, they usually do. So, it has been cropped (sentences are omitted, though no words are changed). I think my original was better, but the shorter one is OK, too.

It is online, but it is a subscription site. Here is the letter, at it appears in the print and online editions:

I have failed nine students for plagiarism in the past five years. ... It is an upsetting experience, one I try very hard to avoid -- but once the line is crossed by the student, the action I must take is very clear to me.

I spend time every semester explaining to students what plagiarism is, that I am good at detecting cheating, and that I will pursue a severe penalty in all instances I find. ...

Those of us who are horrified by academic dishonesty have no choice but to stand up for what is right, no matter the professional risks (frankly, the personal ones involving angry students scare me more, but that is one reason we have campus-safety officers). When I caught the first student cheating, I thought maybe if a teacher had outed the various leaders now involved in business scandals when they were still students, they would have learned something important. ... As a colleague said to me at that time, "sometimes the most valuable lessons learned in school are not actually part of the curriculum."

Here is my original:

I have failed (in the course) nine students for plagiarism in the past five years, and referred six of the cases to the university level, where five were eventually suspended from the university. It is an upsetting experience, one I try very hard to avoid, but once the line is crossed by the student, the action I must take is very clear to me. I spend time every semester explaining to students what plagiarism is, that I am good at detecting cheating, and that I will pursue a severe penalty in all instances I find. I believe the university to be supportive, but I also think that while some faculty members take it seriously, many others decide to avoid the hassle and issue a minor (or no) penalty. It isn't necessarily condoning it (in some cases it may be), but instead, avoidance.

If cheating and plagiarism are as rampant among students as I suspect, and if what another poster wrote is true (that lots of ethically-challenged undergraduates go undetected or move through degree programs without being penalized, then go on to be faculty members and published authors), it is a sad situation indeed.

Those of us who are horrified by academic dishonesty have no choice but to stand up for what is right, no matter the professional risks (frankly, the personal ones involving angry students scare me more, but then, that is one reason we have campus safety officers). When I caught the first student cheating, I thought, maybe if a teacher had "outed" the various leaders who were involved in business scandals when they were still students (and probably just beginning the path of wrongdoing), they would have learned something important and avoided future pain all around. As a colleague said to me at that time, "sometimes the most valuable lessons learned in school are not actually part of the course curriculum."

It's about 10 degrees and that actually feels - OK. Tonight it is supposed to be the coldest night ever? Since temperatures have been recorded? In my lifetime? In the past decade? So far this winter? Beats me, but I did hear some claim of that type on the television weather report.

I'm not sure what is up with students. You always hear from (most) older people that the younger generations are declining, in various ways. (I wrote most because Mimmie never said that to me, in fact she commented that young people really had not changed much in her opinion.) So I am not sure if Mimmie was right, and I am not remembering what my friends were like when I was an undergraduate, or if it is that I know people who are more self-reliant and motivated than the norm or what, because all of my favorite young people fit that description (and get snapped up for jobs right away after graduation).

This week, a bunch of students proudly shouted to me in class that they didn't do the reading, and it is my fault because (1) it isn't on the syllabus (it is); (2) I didn't announce in class that they had to read the article (I definitely did, but regardless, why should I have to do this?); and (3) the copy place screwed up and is selling the wrong course pack (I checked, and this is not true either).

I did something I rarely do, which is lose it. I yelled (yes, yelled, it is a 100 person lecture hall) as many nasty and threatening things as I could think up. Many looked scared, but some seemed impervious. Now, I don't usually do something like that, no matter how hard I am pushed. I avoid the necessity. Instead I do very structured exercises, with specific guidelines, where reporting out is part of the assignment. I rarely expect students to individually respond to questions I throw out, unless they are things that don't require much familiarity with the materials. I know from experience that most will say nothing. Often even students who do the reading are nervous about speaking, especially in the lecture centers. If the class does not cooperate, I fall back on chalk & talk, and go back to the drawing board for the next class. I generally have good results with this approach.

I rarely ask students if they did the reading when they don't raise their hands to participate, but I have found the GAs almost always fall back on this when they are confronted with a silent audience. The personal humiliation style of teaching is so common, and familiar, and I think that is the first thing in the GA's tool box.

However, I had to react in a very strong fashion. One of the undergraduate TAs decided to advocate for the complainers, right during class. This is a big no-no. I felt like slapping her. Since this is one of the GA-taught classes, I don't go to it every time it meets. I took the opporunity to make an impression so that the students don't disrespect the two new GAs when I am not around.

I don't meddle with the GA's experiments when in the classroom, since that would undermine their authority. I do make suggestions privately. But this week one of the GAs asked the fatal question to the blank stares, which sparked the student protests. And I couldn't risk letting that insubordination go unchecked.

Bob said he heard, or read somewhere about this latest crop having "helicopter parents." They are always hovering around, getting involved, fighting battles for their young adult kids. The college students whose families fit this description behave toward me as if I was in the parental role. In other words, when Dad said "be home by 11" and they sauntered in at 1 am, they whined "you didn't remind me" or "I tried calling but it was busy" or the old favorites "it isn't fair" and "it wasn't my fault." (I hear both a lot. "I know I missed some classes but it isn't fair I got a C since I tried hard" or "It isn't my fault I didn't hand in the assignment since I was on vacation.") Dad grumbled but immediately overlooked the infraction and did nothing. Or maybe Dad was absentee and didn't enforce rules ever.

If that is the case, I suspect yelling may not be very effective. The GAs will have to acquire a new tool -- learning how to "deliver content" that meets with student satisfaction, since letting the class out early every week is not an option. Kind of like the way the cafeterias have to cater to student demand for Starbucks, fast food and Coke or Pepsi. We had milk machines, dried out macaroni and cheese, and generic crap in vending rooms. The question of fairness wasn't part of the calculation.

And besides, we had to walk ten miles in the snow to get to those vending rooms.

So often I read something in the newspaper that annoys me. After I encountered this article this morning, I did a little surfing. I wanted to know if the paper was misrepresenting the situation. After watching the PBS series on Auschwitz that has been on the past couple of weeks, I had to know if this guy was really saying such things, and if so, why any college would invite him to speak. Not that I am opposed to alternative views, or free speech, or have no sympathy for indigenous peoples, but I was curious just the same.

Well, I think I have read enough. My reactions:

1. This dude has tenure and I am an adjunct? That fact alone says it all. But then he is mineral water, and I am a mud puddle.

2. There is something just a little odd about someone of privilege being so hysterical about injustice.

3. Good to read that he knows the truth, since the rest of us are brain dead (no joke, he actually does assert this, in a different, though equally offensive way).

4. Speaking the truth and all, I wonder if he has ever heard of anti-Semitism? (But of course not, he is in denial. As in Holocaust denial.)

5. He better be sure his smoke detector is in good order, and he probably should sleep with a fire extinguisher for good measure. Because in the event of fire, he wouldn't want to have to depend on a firefighter. I mean, he enlightened me that they were intent solely on protecting capitalism, racism, oppression and other ugly things when they ran up the stairs of the World Trade Center to their deaths.

6. His college alma mater is misspelled on his faculty web page. (It also doesn't exist any more, technically - but that is another whole opera. Probably one he did a lot of bitching about, before comparing 9/11 victims to Nazis became his 15 minutes of fame, and meal ticket.)

7. For a beacon of the truth, he watches an awful lot of TV.

8. If I was at his speech, I would ask, "Does being an American police dog make Sirius automatically guilty too?" Then I would give him the finger.

Blogger is acting funky. My archives are not appearing. I am making this post to see if creating something new helps. (I remember this is the frustration when journaling frequently, there are so many irritating bugs.)

I finished Surfacing a few days ago, a Margaret Atwood book I bought shortly before Christmas. It was her second book, written in 1972. The writing is great, as ever, a page turner, but I didn't care for the story as much as her later work that I have read (for instance the Robber Bride, Handmaid's Tale or Oryx and Crake). Could be that I didn't identify with the characters as much (too young?) or could be that she is a much better writer now. I have a book of short stories by her that I think I will tackle next.

Winter has really taken ahold!

The Olive Press has an editorial today that infuriated me. So I sent them the following letter to the editor:

To the Editor:
Your January 20 editorial so irritated me, that it is difficult for me to excerpt only a few sentences for comment, but here goes:

So let’s start with school taxes, and from the position that with respect to the large parcel bill, nobody’s got a corner on truth, justice, and the American way here. Olive has solid arguments about its unique situation and the historical price it’s paid for the reservoir that the other towns haven’t. However. It is fundamentally unreasonable that similar properties in adjacent towns pay wildly different taxes to support the same school system.

As I recall (and it can only be based on memory, as your online archives are all linked to the November 11, 2004 edition), in 2003 before the Onteora school board voted to hold off and wait a year then eventually adopt the large parcel, an Olive Press editorial expressed essentially the same sentiment, except perhaps the part about Olive having solid arguments. (I guess the reaction from Olive residents did influence your editorial position, if only just a little.) But I remember my irritation at that time at reading in one of your editorials that folks in Olive knew that paying lower taxes than the other towns in the district was unfair and inequitable, and probably should end.

I don't know your background, or who those friends of yours are, but my friends and family believe no such thing. Those of us privileged enough to be Olive natives, with roots that go back for generations, understand that the "historical price" you mention certainly does give us "a corner on truth, justice and the American way" on this particular issue. I write this not to insult town residents who were born elsewhere, and moved here later. It has been my experience that some who find their way to our town take a first look at the grave site (also known as the Ashokan Reservoir) and it speaks to them, too. They completely understand what you describe as our "unique situation." Sadly, there are others who cannot feel it, and they are clueless. It saddens me that one of the clueless is penning the editorials for the purportedly local newspaper.

That won’t fly in reasoned discussion in Olive, to say nothing of outside Olive. Unfortunately there is no way to compensate for what happened to our native civilizations, nor has anyone thought up, so far, just compensation for the armed robbery of most of the Town of Olive by New York City in the early 20th century. It’s done. The best we can hope for is fair tax remuneration from them.

Reasoned discussion? According to whom? I believe "outside Olive" are the two most telling words in this stunning quote from the "Olive Press." Maybe in the interest of really representing the town whose name you plaster across your publication, you should seek occasional input from some folks who are actually "inside Olive."

Gina Giuliano, PhD
Castleton & Samsonville, NY

Still freezing. I think it got up to the teens yesterday and that felt like a heat wave.

First week of the semester comes and goes. Wednesday was so hectic, I had to ask students who wanted to meet with me to tag along as I ran all my errands on campus, reserves to the library, grade changes to the Registrar, picking up lunch. I was exhausted Wednesday night, I wondered how I do it. But I know I will settle into the routine soon enough. After a month at home with animals for colleagues (even when they are barking they are calmer than people), plunging into the first day of the semester is a recipe for agoraphobia.

In today's Times Union, another local blog is mentioned.

This was a productive weekend. Cold, too, and snowy. I am back on campus on Wednesday, and I guess I am ready. I have been doing some thinking about journals. Not necessarily electronic ones, any kind of journal. Twice in my educational career I had teachers who assigned a journal. The first was in high school English class. The second was in my doctoral program in education. Those experiences made me an advocate for assigning a journal, and it is part of my classes every semester.

Most of the journals I receive are perfectly acceptable, if not inspired, exercises, some are kind of run-of-the-mill, mundane but OK, of course a few are pitiful, not serious efforts, but every so often, there is a student in class who really runs with the journal assignment, and hands in something heartfelt, that borders on creative writing.

I comment on the first half of the journals, and then return them, collecting them again at the end of the semester. A handful of students get them back after the class is over. Most do not care once the final course grade has been posted. I save them for a semester, then tear out the used pages and use the notebooks and binders myself. (I will never have to buy a spiral bound notebook again.)

Last semester there was a student who handed in a journal that was not only inspired - it revealed a lot of personal information (most of the creative ones do, but in this case, it was even more than usual). I soaked up the entries, and made positive comments, and looked forward to the second half of the semester's resubmission.

The second half was even more intensely personal. Some of the information shared was alarming. Not to the extreme of violence or suicide or anything, but the student had developed what seemed to me to be an unhealthy obsession with weight and diet. This student was in one of my on campus classes, and in my opinion, did not need to lose a pound. Given the other personal things she wrote, becoming anorexic was not out of the question.

She isn't one of the students who asked for her journal back, so additional comments would be pointless. The class is over now, the grades submitted. Whenever a situation such as this arises, I always wonder about my responsibility. College students are adults, even if at 20 they can be as vulnerable as kids. It's tempting to try to share some of what is learned from aging, not in an academic discipline, but in life. On the other hand, was is the proper role for a professor? Where should the line be drawn between helping, and it being none of your beeswax? Finally, with 250 students per semester, where can the line be drawn, realistically?

I suppose one can only hope that the exercise of journaling itself proves to be the gift, the healing.

Here are some gorgeous photographs of the Catskills and Hudson Valley.

I made a new tee shirt logo.



Oh, ejournals (what everyone else insists on calling blogs) were mentioned in today's TU. The local site focused on is here.

Horse theft may conjure images of the Wild West, but it is still a serious problem today, as you can see at Netposse.

My mother loves horses. I don't mean that in a passing way, not the way all adolescent girls like horses, or the way many people say they love horses, because they enjoy horse racing and saw or read Seabiscuit. I mean she really loves horses. She currently has seven, one morgan and six miniatures.

Several years ago she bred the miniatures, but she was never able to sell any. She's very fussy about the care they receive, truly an equestrian lover. The barn was bursting at the seams (and it is a lot of work), a woman she thought was a fellow horse lover was interested, so she lent two of her minis to this woman, with the understanding that the woman would return them if she could no longer keep them. Instead, this woman (allegedly) lent them to a man who said he would train them to pull a cart. He then took them to the auction, where they were sold together to a man in Massachusetts. They were again sold to a man in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My mother has been searching for these two minis for a year, and that's the latest information she has located of their whereabouts.

Here are the two beauties:



Fine 'n' Dandy Dixie Rose - 12 year old dark grey or brownish miniature mare. 32 inches tall

Fine 'n' Dandy Ginger Snap - 12 year old Palomino miniature mare, 34 inches tall



Both mares are AMHA registered in my mother's name. Law enforcement has not been much help. (The DA mentioned in this article wasn't interested. Regardless of his claims to the Freeman, I doubt he takes animal abuse cases seriously.) She is determined to locate her horses, and save them if that's what they need. Please keep watch for Dixie and Ginger and the other stolen and missing horses at Netposse.

From the TU, wow. My message to King: I knew better than to request a sabbatical when I wanted to finish my dissertation. I didn't need a memo to know it would be turned down. And I had worked there 9 years (not 12 days past being eligible) and had tenure. And I didn't earn a quarter of what he does. And I really did plan to do something academic. But I knew better. I resigned, and moved on. How clueless is the Chancellor if he didn't know that too? Then again, maybe it is simple greed that rendered him clueless. (To think I once joked [yes, it was only a joke] that I aspired to such a position.)

I thought I would give another meme a try (via Sya).

The Thursday Threesome

The Phantom of the Opera

Onesome: The Phantom--Pick one (or more!): Hey, have you seen it yet? Are you going to go see it? Have you seen it on stage? Read the book? What Phantom?

I haven't seen the movie, I will probably add it to Netflix when it comes out on DVD. I have never read the book. I saw the show on Broadway, in 1994. It was fantastic! It is a funny memory...from my days in math assessment. I traveled on the train to Long Island to make a presentation at a math conference at SUNY Old Westbury. The director of the similar Ohio program was presenting too. It was his birthday, and after the presentation, we ate lunch at a very ritzy restaurant on the way to JFK airport to drop off one of his staff members. I thought he was at least 35 years old - but he told me he was 28, five years younger than I was at that time.

We went to NYC and met Bob and the Ohio guy's wife, and then we went out to dinner at a Spanish restaurant. I then discovered why he looked years older than his age...he did not eat vegetables. Even the verde sauce on his steak was alien! We wrapped the night up at Phantom, and stayed in a nearby hotel - can't remember the name. Plush, but typical Manhattan teeny rooms. Then we took Amtrak to Albany, and Mr. non-vegan & wife returned to Ohio. He was a super nice guy. He left that job several years ago for greener pastures, but that program remains vital and survives (unlike "mine").

Twosome: of the--Of the sights and sounds and smells of Spring what are you waiting for the most? ...and what is the first sign in your area that Spring is on its way?

I'm not really thinking of the upcoming Spring yet, it is only January! True, today was incredibly warm - in the 50s - but tomorrow it is going to plummet, and this weekend it is supposed to be zero at night. There is quite a bit of snow on the ground, even after the warm day. Winter suits me just fine; in fact, I love all of the four seasons, glory in the different aspects of each. That they are fleeting makes them all the better. As far as my favorite sign of Spring in general, I guess it is the lilac bush in my backyard, even though that comes fairly late in the Spring. The first sign that Spring is on the way in this area? I think it is when the forsythia bushes bloom.

Threesome: Opera--Theatre? Stage? Local shows? Do you get a chance to visit any of these venues? Any recommendations on current items?

Not opera, but I often go to see live performances. There are all sorts of wonderful arts events worth checking out. In terms of theatre, I have seen many performances by high school and college students, local Capital District productions, traveling companies, off-Broadway, and a few Broadway shows. Most recently, I saw actors from the Park Playhouse sing show tunes at First Night. I currently have season's tickets for the University at Albany's college theatre; sometimes I go to Capital Repertory, or Proctor's. The last play I saw at UA was Tartuffe, in November; the last play I saw at Capital Rep was Dr. Faustus, last year; the last play at Proctor's was Rent, a couple of years ago.

We're having the first truly snowy week of the '04-'05 winter. Rudy, as always, is delighted. He was a little sick on Thursday, and had to go to the vet during the storm that day. It was one time I didn't mind the cost of having the truck. Also this week, Bob turned 45. We had a party for him at Jillian's, a big place in Albany with a game room in the basement.

I am not a fan of meetings. In my former life, as an administrator, meetings were a staple. They took two different forms; the first were staff meetings. These were small, mostly consisting of colleagues in the department. They could be useful (not usually) or a waste of time (meaning just boring, although occasionally tense and even, at rare times, a little exciting).

The second type of meeting is known as the conference. This type generally involves travel, and includes lunch, which is often the only perk, but can be a decent one. Long conferences involve other social time (with a cash bar, public funds are well spent on plane tickets and taxi rides but not on booze), and of course dinner, which is never any good and the price is too high - sitting through a keynote speaker.

I've used this description enough in the years of my freedom (by this I mean I now don't have to attend conferences) that it is almost tired - but it still remains apt. Five years ago I vowed never again to sit through another spring mix with raspberry vinaigrette and pasty chicken a la Marriot accompanied by a presentation on the styles of learning or transition to college or the nuances of Regents' standards or online learning transforming the galaxy or the sensuality of math. Sorry folks, cell phones ringing ain't a learning style, freshman will always party too much, even Commissioner Mills couldn't explain those nuances, transformation is no match for the academic galaxy, and math is not sexy.

Anyway, now that I am adjunct, forget conferences, I don't even have to go to department meetings. I get invited about once per semester, always to the last one, which includes a free lunch, and a minor speech that consists mostly of "thanks." Anyway, when food is involved, my price is fairly low. And, I usually feel pretty charitable at the semester's end, and this being the fall semester, festive over the holidays besides.

So, I went. The chair invited me to share on two subjects, (1) upcoming spring enrollment and (2) the program I took on last spring. So, (1) resulted in lots of faculty praise, especially from the not-yet-tenured; (2) resulted in me giving a brief history, interrupted when I got to the part about the graduate assistants who work on the two undergraduate courses with the question: "where do they come from?" followed by my explanation...and then a long tirade (not really related to my answer) from this German (not German-American) recently tenured faculty member about how indefensible, low quality and just generally awful the courses are. It was probably not intended as personal criticism for my efforts, but due to his less than warm and fuzzy demeanor (OK, that's an understatement, it was downright offensive, and if I was a man it almost would've warranted a punch...make that if I was a man without a PhD) it sure did seem like it...and it resulted in my feeling that I was on the defensive, even if I am an unwilling, and so weak, defender. My situation was not helped by the fact that I was in day two of a head cold, and I am an awful patient.

Of course his outburst sparked much discomfort at the table: the chair was nervous and embarrassed; the young faculty members sat frozen, staring at me with sympathetic eyes; one or two others were doodling in notepads, perhaps bored, or anyway they seemed not to be paying much attention; another parolee from my former place of employment and the retired former superintendent of schools turned faculty member were visibly irritated. The stage had been set; a discussion followed about the awful courses, and the concerns of the faculty. A few questions were directed at me, which I clumsily answered. That was the only time I had any chance to get to what I had intended to be the bulk of my remarks, about the good things in the courses, and the changes I have made since assuming this disaster (um, challenge). Sadly, I don't think I did a good job of explaining any of that.

Suddenly, my former dissertation chair came awake - up until this point, he had been among the bored, though not doodling - and said, in that testy way he sometimes exhibits, "I motion that we make a resolution [or some such word] to recommend to the Dean that she create a committee to investigate the program and these courses" and then the German guy snapped "I second."

I was floored, and the reaction at the table was electric. In administration, such outbursts are less common, unless the audience is tiny. Years ago, I saw a program on PBS during a fund drive. It was by a funny motivational speaker named Loretta LaRouche. She was describing uptight people; she said they have to hold a quarter in their butts at all times, so this is why they are so stiff and cannot express genuine emotion. That seems like a good description of what happens at administrator meetings. It isn't OK to get mad, or laugh too much, or be openly sad, or uninhibited, but my guess is that irrational behavior is the normal atmosphere of faculty meetings - though I don't know really. It is a new role for me, and this is only about the fifth time I have attended. But judging from the "literature," college faculty behave this way. (I am remembering, years ago I made a presentation at a high school meeting, where the reaction was similar. A few sentences into my remarks, a wild-haired guy jumped up and yelled, "I object to having to attend this meeting" and after several minutes of various people shouting, over half the attendees stormed out. Maybe it's me?)

I knew I had to do something, or lose it. I leaned forward and summoned as much assertiveness as I am able, without slipping into rage mode, and said "you can do whatever you want, but it wasn't my intention to spark the department to take some action on this - I was just sharing information - but I report to the Dean's office on this, and I feel I have to brief the associate dean on what happens here. I do not want to create the impression that I came to this meeting to complain about problems in the courses that somehow caused you to make this recommendation."

The desired result was better than I expected. A professor who is shared with another department said, "does anyone want to object to the motion?" and the fellow parolee said, yes, he did, followed by the former super. My former dissertation chair withdrew the motion, and instead they decided that the department chair would (reluctantly on his part, I think, though he was mostly taking notes and not saying a lot) recommend it for the agenda of a chair's meeting instead.

At this point, I had changed into my alter ego, from professional circumspect best to irreverent, borderline sarcastic. That was probably ill-advised, but it is my biggest reason for liking being a nearly invisible adjunct - unlike all others present, I am free, I do not play the game, I already cashed in, and I don't have to sit through these meetings once a month.

Afterwards, the German guy made a point of walking with me to the luncheon. I thought maybe - fantastically - unbelievably - he was going to apologize, though, being married to a watered-down 3/4 German-American I should have known that was wishful thinking. He was pleasant enough, in his cold way. I figured maybe he was going to at least bring it up in some way. But, he did not. Instead he peppered me with things about my other class. Later I realized it was under the ruse of being interested in online classes, but I suspect his real interest is somehow calling into question my competence.

At the luncheon, I sat with the other parolee, two new faculty members, the secretary who runs the department, and a professor who has now retired. Strangely, the retiree immediately asked me about the program I took over, and I responded, briefly, but much more in the way I had hoped to in the departmental meeting. The conversation centered around the campus presidential search, latkas (they were on the menu), the retiree's upcoming trip to somewhere exotic, one of the youngster's law student boyfriend, and the secretary's athletically amazing daughter (now a high school senior and college-bound soccer champ). But there was a bit of palpable tension surrounding me.

I left to go sew up one of the low quality, indefensible, just plain awful classes - it was about to be over for the semester, and on the way I resolved to blow both the meeting and the luncheon off at the end of next semester.

The latest on the Home Depot bird poisoning outrage. Oh, and surprise, surprise - they did not answer my letter on the subject.

Speaking of answering letters...I received only four responses to my letter about another outrage, although of a very different sort - the Large Parcel. That would be two emails: one from the sole "no voting" school board member, one from a "no voting" county legislator, one very brief paper letter from a state senator, and a phone call from a state agency (referred by the governor's office).

Grades are all - finally! - submitted. I even responded to the 50 angry emails.

Yes, the students missed the deadline. I had the grades for one class on Thursday - for the other yesterday (I was told they were ready last Monday, but no one bothered to email me the files, and I had to go to campus and retrieve them from a computer) but I took off Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and then I needed some time to check them over.

By the way, my Christmas was great!

Well, I entered the grades for five classes in the online system. I would be officially done for the fall semester, except that two of the graduate assistants, each one for a different class, have not sent me spreadsheets with their evaluations. The deadline is 12 noon, although I can still enter the grades in the system later than that, but I have to call the registrar for them to be posted. Since both of the GAs are now teaching school during the day, and it is pretty clear that is the priority and the obligation to me is not, I am not optimistic that I will get anything until this evening. I am not prone to panic, but I am pretty irritated. I want to be finished and enjoy the holiday too! I hope I get something from them before the grades become accessible to students, and I am the recipient of 50 angry email messages.

Some brighter news, I received an email that a post I wrote about plagiarism may be printed in the letters section of the Chronicle of Higher Education.

I didn't mean to let so long slip by between posts. My cold is better. My discomfort over my last day of the semester on campus has faded. I may get a short story out of that episode. I am beginning to see daylight on end of semester grading; it is a good thing, because they are due at noon on Wednesday! (And rest assured I will be done at exactly 11:59.)

I had many things to write about, but was focused on evaluating students, and arranging enough space in the house so we could get a Christmas tree, which we did, on Sunday. A beautiful fresh cut Scotch pine. I tipped the two cute little boy scouts $1 each for their handiwork, and they skipped off, shouting, "we got a tip! We got a tip!"

It snowed a bit yesterday. Rudy is, as always, thrilled, that nine-year-old puppy of mine. Sophie and Edna are considerably less thrilled; the former because she has no hair! And the latter because cats hate getting wet. Now it's cold, cold, cold here.

One story I wanted to comment on that I heard on the news several days ago was that one of the local Home Depot stores hired Orkin to put out poisoned bird seed to kill the many birds that are always flying around those stores because some customer complained. I love those birds! They are the only good thing about Home Depot, they sure beat dodging forklifts.

Why do people hate birds? Case in point: the most obnoxious, stuck-up, conceited, plastic, shallow, fake girl in my high school class listed "birds" in the yearbook as something she hated. Why do I clearly remember this 25 years later? Because it happens to be one of the captions they chose to re-print on the program of the reunion last summer. And, in the three times I saw her since high school (10th reunion, 20th, 25th), she has only increased in being obnoxious, stuck-up, conceited, plastic, shallow, and fake. If she hates birds, then logic dictates that I must love them.

Next example. Every year, there are newspaper articles about some obnoxious, stuck-up, conceited, plastic, shallow, fake town, neighborhood or facility (like the race track or a golf course) with interviews of people who are complaining about crows, Canada geese or pigeons. Why can't people leave the birds alone? A murder (isn't that a delightfully descriptive word) of crows often flies around and perches in the trees in Castleton. The racket is reminiscent of the Hitchcock movie! I am fascinated when they arrive, and I rush outside to see (and hear) them. Canada geese are a common sight in Samsonville; sometimes in the spring they have adorable goslings trailing behind. How carefully the parents watch them! And I have always appreciated the pigeons in Albany, those scavenging city birds so many people think are disgusting. I wonder as I watch them, how would they like to be transplanted to Samsonville? But they wouldn't much care for it, I'm sure, as there are no McDonald's french fries to score. In Samsonville, our nuisance bird is probably the barn swallow. They build nests everywhere, and have batches of five or six that do make a mess. But still I love them, feel joy at watching those hungry little beaks, keeping the parents so busy.

About the awful Home Depot report. This isn't an isolated incident. My first wish: May a bird crap on that customer's head, repeatedly, every time he or she goes outside. My second wish: A massive boycott of Home Depot. There are so many reasons to do this, but the bird atrocity is the best yet. May the whole chain burn slowly in big box he-l.

Ugh.

I have a cold (picked up either from Bob [who came down with one last week] or at Cherry Hill, where I volunteered on Sunday. There were 189 visitors!).

I also had a very unpleasant day yesterday...professionally, although not student-wise.

It turns out that the student from the latest plagiarism case has a serious genetic disorder. However, she is not registered with Disability Services, apparently because she does not want to be labeled. I have a feeling that the student has had her symptoms managed in a medical way, but perhaps not received psychological counseling or academic assistance prior to this.

After reviewing her work, the judicial affairs rep (a great guy, btw) asked her how she has managed to get to her senior year, and write acceptable papers for her history courses [her major], and she reported that she has not had to do very much writing before this!

After meeting the student and consulting with her parents, the judicial affairs guy does not believe she intentionally plagiarized, although he said it clearly is a plagiarism case, and that if I decided to have the university pursue it, she most likely would be suspended. He shared with her parents my evaluations of the student's assignments, as well as her status in the class (missing almost all of the work, so that she is failing regardless of the plagiarism), and they agreed that is the grade she has earned, and they have no intention of disputing it.

I told the judicial affairs officer that under the circumstances, I have no objection at all to withdrawing my referral to them, but that I am concerned that the student is not getting the academic or emotional support she needs. He agreed with my perspective, and he is going to tell the student and her family that she has failed the course, but the plagiarism charge will be withdrawn, provided she registers with Disability Services. He is going to discuss the case with that office, and follow up to be sure that the student and/or her parents do this.

Strange how things work out. I feel bad for the student - the nature of her condition is heartbreaking. But I also feel that I did the right thing, both in terms of upholding academic standards, and in detecting a student who is in need of intervention, and immediate help. And, both the department chair and the associate dean agree.

Yesterday, the associate dean came to see me. The latest cheating student contacted him. She did not attempt to see me, and she also did not attend class. Then, last night, she sent me another email. There was no message, just a duplicate of something she had already submitted, her third written assignment. There were no changes, it also did not meet course expectations, and it included instances of plagiarism from at least two websites.

This morning, I received an email from her father, who apparently is an attorney (it was from AOL, but he had an e-signature with his title). He was seeking to meet with me tomorrow. I did not respond, but instead called the Judicial Affairs officer. We discussed the circumstances at length, and I decided to refer the case to his office. He explained that due to confidentiality, I cannot discuss the situation with her parents if she is not present, without written consent from the student. So I emailed the father and told him that I had referred the case to Judicial Affairs, and that the student should contact them directly.

I sent Judicial Affairs copies of all of the work, with my evaluations, copies of the various assignment guidelines, as well as links to the websites from which she cut and pasted the well-written parts. I went through my grading spreadsheet, and determined that she has missed 6 (of 23) classes, including yesterday's. She never handed in a journal, and she has not met expectations on any of the three written assignments. I won't be evaluating the groups until the end of the semester, but although she has been in class for many of the group activities, as far as I can tell, she has not been an active participant. (I use partial peer evaluation to determine group grades as well as a brief essay and my observations of student and group participation in class. Students hand in the written materials at the last class.) She has made no posts in the online discussion board (students are required to post 14 times throughout the semester).

Judicial Affairs understands that she is failing the course, even without the plagiarism. Although it is now a university matter, he said one possible outcome may be that he convinces her (and her father) to not dispute the failing grade, because otherwise, the result may be that she is disciplined with suspension in addition to course failure.

I am relieved it is now out of my hands. Too bad it has taken so much of my time, during the very busy end of semester.