I always thought I was moody and arrogant and bitchy and argumentative, but my mother's from Argentina, so I went there for the first time last year, and it turns out I am just Argentinian. There's nothing wrong with me at all; it's just the way of my people. (117)
Tom Rhodes, American comedian, interviewed in the book Satiristas! Comedians, Contrarians, Raconteurs & Vulgarians
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
On Rebecca Schuman
Edit, and a warning: I wrote this post at 4 am in the morning using an IPad for the first time. As a result, there were many grammatical mistakes in the post. I was tired, and thought the ideas were more important than the grammar. The past few days have been really busy, so only now do I have time to try to polish it a little bit. However, I am known for being a sloppy writer (at least in my blog). Therefore, if anything less than good prose hurts your sensibility and sense of decorum, I suggest that you stop reading now. /snark
As one of the lucky ones (recently tenured at a liberal arts institution), I usually stay away from the "Go/ Don't go" debate. I stay away for two reasons. As a foreign student, I was never allowed to work legally outside of campus. I couldn't take out loans either. As a result, I graduated with only 5,000 in credit card debt, my party money as I call it. The second reason was that I knew that in order to stay in this country, I had to get a job to sponsor my visa. Still, I will confess I did not apply to any job located in a city with less than 150,000 people. I was fortunate that i got a job in a midsize city, so I didn't have to reconsider my approach to job huntimg. I don't do nature very well. But the possibility of having to move to the middle of nowhere was very present from the beginning. What I am trying to say is that I usually don't get involve not only because I am one of the lucky ones, but also because theae discussions seem to focus on the abysmal possibilities of getting TT jobs at R1. What sometimes seems missing from the debates is that very few top programs prepare their students to believe than anyhthing below a research intensive university is equally worthy. Myself, I have good friends at higher places (as in tenure professors in UNiversity of California campus) who occasionally insist on why am I in the place I am (midsize, religious liberal arts university, with regional prestige). I am there because I like teaching and workings with undergrads above all. If they don't understand the explanation, I tell them that their good grad students have to come from somewhere, and sometimes it is from somebody like me.
This is a long introduction just to say that I will give my opinion on Rebecca Schuman's essays. My reaction to the Slate article was negative. Not because she wasn't saying many truths. I might lack a sense of humor, but my Jewish family begs to disagree. What bothered me was not so much the satire against French theory, or the ridiculization of professors. Yes, those annoyed me a little because they perpetuate the right wing stereotypes against college professors, and because those stereotypes only come close at elite institutions. There are plenty of us at non elite places that work hard everyday to be meaningful to our students, and crack at least a littl the bubble some of them live in. For me, the dismissal of flyover country was a little too much. I live not too far away from Columbus, Ohio, and I love it here to the surprise of some of my "sophisticated" friends. That piece, thus, seemed to mock elite humanities programs while dismissing or not recognizing that there was a whole other world, places with little reputation that do wonderful things for their student population with the little resources they have.
My opinion, though, changed completely after reading her CHE article and the kerkuffle that ensued. It was not the article per se, but the comments. HER comments. Two examples, both by her:
And later she says:
I've been known for being overly empathetic, but I cried when I read that. Because I get it. I always knew I belong in the classroom, and was encouraged to develop those skills in grad school (we were not a top program, so we knew we would end up in teaching intensive positions). A few years ago, by pure chance, i received in the same day two acceptances for different articles AND the students' evaluations from the previous semester. WhAt made my week were the near perfect evaluations from my Latin American civ course. Reading Schuman comments hurts, because I understand the pain of not being able to walk into a classroom as a possible job future. Because my classroom is also my true love. I hope Rebecca Schuman heals from this process and quickly finds somewhere else to display her talents and a career that fulfills her.
And to those of you who disagree with her, be civil. Otherwise you really look like a jerk.
As one of the lucky ones (recently tenured at a liberal arts institution), I usually stay away from the "Go/ Don't go" debate. I stay away for two reasons. As a foreign student, I was never allowed to work legally outside of campus. I couldn't take out loans either. As a result, I graduated with only 5,000 in credit card debt, my party money as I call it. The second reason was that I knew that in order to stay in this country, I had to get a job to sponsor my visa. Still, I will confess I did not apply to any job located in a city with less than 150,000 people. I was fortunate that i got a job in a midsize city, so I didn't have to reconsider my approach to job huntimg. I don't do nature very well. But the possibility of having to move to the middle of nowhere was very present from the beginning. What I am trying to say is that I usually don't get involve not only because I am one of the lucky ones, but also because theae discussions seem to focus on the abysmal possibilities of getting TT jobs at R1. What sometimes seems missing from the debates is that very few top programs prepare their students to believe than anyhthing below a research intensive university is equally worthy. Myself, I have good friends at higher places (as in tenure professors in UNiversity of California campus) who occasionally insist on why am I in the place I am (midsize, religious liberal arts university, with regional prestige). I am there because I like teaching and workings with undergrads above all. If they don't understand the explanation, I tell them that their good grad students have to come from somewhere, and sometimes it is from somebody like me.
This is a long introduction just to say that I will give my opinion on Rebecca Schuman's essays. My reaction to the Slate article was negative. Not because she wasn't saying many truths. I might lack a sense of humor, but my Jewish family begs to disagree. What bothered me was not so much the satire against French theory, or the ridiculization of professors. Yes, those annoyed me a little because they perpetuate the right wing stereotypes against college professors, and because those stereotypes only come close at elite institutions. There are plenty of us at non elite places that work hard everyday to be meaningful to our students, and crack at least a littl the bubble some of them live in. For me, the dismissal of flyover country was a little too much. I live not too far away from Columbus, Ohio, and I love it here to the surprise of some of my "sophisticated" friends. That piece, thus, seemed to mock elite humanities programs while dismissing or not recognizing that there was a whole other world, places with little reputation that do wonderful things for their student population with the little resources they have.
My opinion, though, changed completely after reading her CHE article and the kerkuffle that ensued. It was not the article per se, but the comments. HER comments. Two examples, both by her:
I notice you don't mention anything about connecting with students--that's always been the most important part to me. I definitely belonged at a SLAC or in a teaching-heavy department, and I know that. But the market is just too bad for most people to have a chance--and I knew that, too
And later she says:
But I was an extraordinary professor. As a researcher I was original and rigorous, but the classroom was my true love. My students threw me a surprise party on my last day at OSU, complete with a cake. A good half of my evaluations this spring said some form of "I can't believe this department is letting Prof. Schuman go." It makes me cry just to type that.
I've been known for being overly empathetic, but I cried when I read that. Because I get it. I always knew I belong in the classroom, and was encouraged to develop those skills in grad school (we were not a top program, so we knew we would end up in teaching intensive positions). A few years ago, by pure chance, i received in the same day two acceptances for different articles AND the students' evaluations from the previous semester. WhAt made my week were the near perfect evaluations from my Latin American civ course. Reading Schuman comments hurts, because I understand the pain of not being able to walk into a classroom as a possible job future. Because my classroom is also my true love. I hope Rebecca Schuman heals from this process and quickly finds somewhere else to display her talents and a career that fulfills her.
And to those of you who disagree with her, be civil. Otherwise you really look like a jerk.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
So it begins...
The summer. For the first time in 5 years, I probably will not go to Argentina. The reason, though, is not that I am too busy. Actually, it's the opposite. This past year has been so hectic, that I just want some "do-nothing" time. To stay in bed all day, doing nothing. I do have plans for the summer: I will probably work on an article, I will take a 6 weeks course my institution offers on how to design an online course. I will also be an AP reader. B. and I will probably look for apartments, in order to move into a bigger one. However, I have no ambitions nor plans: if the article is ready for submission in August, that's great. If not, who cares? I have the Fall semester to work on it. I just feel brain-dead. And that is why I am not going to Argentina: at this point, the idea of the trip just sounds exhausting to me. I don't want to juggle too many things during the summer. At this point, I just don't have the capacity. While my tenure track path was pretty smooth, and there is no horror story to tell, I guess it did took a toll on me. I finished grading last Friday. This past week, I just spent hours in bed reading and surfing the web. I ventured the outside world just to go grocery shopping and to go to a baseball game. B. looked at me today and said: "You look better than you have in months". Which is remarkable, considering I hadn't showered in more than 24 hours when he said it, and I was in my PJs. So there isn't much to tell so far.
While I recover, here is an article from Inside Higher Ed about studying in Argentina. It is not about study abroad programs, but about the increased number of foreign students doing their complete undergraduate education in Argentina. I am not surprised, since I had known about the trend for a while. Public education is free in Argentina, and most of the foreign students come from other Latin American countries like Peru, Bolivia and Colombia. It is a testament that despite all the problems, the quality of education in my home country is still excellent. But what I liked the most about the article was how the writer was somehow puzzled that nobody has raised the issue of actually charging at least something those foreign students:
I am not so surprised. During the neoliberal years in the 1990s, the government privatized everything they could with very little resistance (there are reasons for that). The only thing they couldn't privatize was public education. As I told more than once, I got my initiation in political demonstrations in protests against the attempt to start charging tuition at the University of Buenos Aires. And the university remained free. The idea that everybody has the right to have access to quality education is deeply ingrained in the cultural fabric of the country (regardless what else you think about him, you can thank Sarmiento for that). In addition, Argentina has one of the most liberal and generous immigration laws in the world (I wrote about it the past, but I am too lazy to look for the link). So most Argentineans won't blink at the idea of anybody, regardless where they are from, studying in their country for free. In fact, we might even be proud of the idea. As the author concludes:
A generous country indeed. And proudly so.
While I recover, here is an article from Inside Higher Ed about studying in Argentina. It is not about study abroad programs, but about the increased number of foreign students doing their complete undergraduate education in Argentina. I am not surprised, since I had known about the trend for a while. Public education is free in Argentina, and most of the foreign students come from other Latin American countries like Peru, Bolivia and Colombia. It is a testament that despite all the problems, the quality of education in my home country is still excellent. But what I liked the most about the article was how the writer was somehow puzzled that nobody has raised the issue of actually charging at least something those foreign students:
What is really quite curious is that no one has questioned the issue of free education for undergraduate foreigners who attend public universities. As was mentioned, the non-tuition and fees policy for Argentine undergraduate students can be sustained thanks to the tax system argument, as happens in many European countries. In particular, during the 2000s, Argentina’s tax system became much more progressive than in the past. Net taxable income is taxed at rates ranging from 9 to 35 percent on income earning over 120,000 Argentine pesos. That is, those earning just over US$24,000 annually are taxed 35 percent of their net income. So, it would seem reasonable to expect international students to make some financial contribution to cover their undergraduate studies.
I am not so surprised. During the neoliberal years in the 1990s, the government privatized everything they could with very little resistance (there are reasons for that). The only thing they couldn't privatize was public education. As I told more than once, I got my initiation in political demonstrations in protests against the attempt to start charging tuition at the University of Buenos Aires. And the university remained free. The idea that everybody has the right to have access to quality education is deeply ingrained in the cultural fabric of the country (regardless what else you think about him, you can thank Sarmiento for that). In addition, Argentina has one of the most liberal and generous immigration laws in the world (I wrote about it the past, but I am too lazy to look for the link). So most Argentineans won't blink at the idea of anybody, regardless where they are from, studying in their country for free. In fact, we might even be proud of the idea. As the author concludes:
Indeed, all things considered, it would appear that Argentina is a most generous country.
A generous country indeed. And proudly so.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Nestor Kirchner, la película (the movie)
A few month ago, a documentary was released in Argentina about Nestor Kirchner. I haven't seen it, and some people that I respect liked it. Everybody agrees, though, that it is more an hagiography than a documentary. Since the beginning the Kirchner family was very involved in it, so that is no surprise. The interesting background about that documentary is that the first director was Adrian Caetano, one of my favorites. An excellent choice, I thought, since he is a good director and sympathetic to the Kirchners. However, he was fired after he finished it. The "official" explanation was "creative differences with the producers", or something similar. In other words, the Kirchner that appeared in the Caetano's cut wasn't perfect. For those of you who speak Spanish, here is a copy of Caetano's version. The quality isn't great, from the little I've have time to see, but I can't wait for next week when I am out of grading jail and will be able to watch the whole documentary.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
RBOC - Finals week
- Dear colleague, I don't mind proctoring two of your finals because you needed to go out of town. Your reason is more than valid. But would it be too much to ask that you actually give me the correct room for each exam? In one case, you missed by a floor. In the second, the classroom was none existent. As a result, I spent ten minutes going up and down in a labyrinthic building trying to find it and getting lost.
- My language classes are probably going to end with higher grades than I suspected until a month and a half ago. Why did they start studying? I have no idea, it's a complete mystery. But so far, they have been doing much better than in the first half of the semester.
- I liked my students in the civilization class. They were smart and, for the most part, engaged with the material. But today, when I started to grade their final paper (worth 20 % of the final grade), I realized a big problem. Three quarters of them are seniors. So they just don't care. And their final papers are, for the most part, infuriating. They are bad not because they didn't get it, but because they didn't try. It is a half-as*** B.S. Like saying they will analyze X in a certain novel, and not even bothering with a direct quote of said novel. Also, many of them just included mostly unrelated class notes into half the paper. Even if I fail (or give Ds) to many of them, they will end up with a C+/B-, and they are obviously fine with it. I know I shouldn't care that much, but I feel that it's a waste of my time and, above all, that I could have read really smart papers if they had bothered to write them. So far, I've given an A to a student who wrote a pretty decent analysis of the hardest novel I suggested; and a B+ to another student that, although quite messy, I can see the effort. The rest are C and down.
- Somehow, I managed to get a heat related headache going from one building to another. Very inconvenient.
- As you can see, I am grumpy.
- My language classes are probably going to end with higher grades than I suspected until a month and a half ago. Why did they start studying? I have no idea, it's a complete mystery. But so far, they have been doing much better than in the first half of the semester.
- I liked my students in the civilization class. They were smart and, for the most part, engaged with the material. But today, when I started to grade their final paper (worth 20 % of the final grade), I realized a big problem. Three quarters of them are seniors. So they just don't care. And their final papers are, for the most part, infuriating. They are bad not because they didn't get it, but because they didn't try. It is a half-as*** B.S. Like saying they will analyze X in a certain novel, and not even bothering with a direct quote of said novel. Also, many of them just included mostly unrelated class notes into half the paper. Even if I fail (or give Ds) to many of them, they will end up with a C+/B-, and they are obviously fine with it. I know I shouldn't care that much, but I feel that it's a waste of my time and, above all, that I could have read really smart papers if they had bothered to write them. So far, I've given an A to a student who wrote a pretty decent analysis of the hardest novel I suggested; and a B+ to another student that, although quite messy, I can see the effort. The rest are C and down.
- Somehow, I managed to get a heat related headache going from one building to another. Very inconvenient.
- As you can see, I am grumpy.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Student scholarship
The student I sponsored just won the most prestigious scholarship my institution awards to sophomores or junior students in the humanities. The prize: $10K in tuition remission. I am proud, and I can definitely spot smart kids! It's the first time since I've been here that I decided to do it, because I thought the student had a chance to win. And I was right!
Thursday, April 25, 2013
RBOC or, what I've been up to....
- I've been MIA for different reasons, one of them is that I just spent a week in Spain for a Conference. Obsessive as I am, I couldn't just do a "decent" job on the paper I wanted to present, but it had to be re-written and revised several times.
-As a consequence, I felt behind in my grading just in time for the end of the semester
-I went to Spain for a week. I had a good time, but the conference was second rate. I should have guessed it, but the "prestige" of the university holding it fooled me.
- While I am happy I got to spend a week in Spain, I will never again go to a Conference a week before classes end. This week is hell on earth for me.
-In the meantime, I was elected for very important committee. Out of 12 candidates the faculty at large had to choose two, and I was one of them. I am still not sure whether it was a good idea or not to run. I knew it was going to be a lot of work. What I didn't know was that the Chair of the committee quit in the last meeting. Sounds like trouble.
- I've gone to the dark side. I've signed up for a two month workshop (with a nice stipend) to get the fundamentals of online teaching. And I will probably be teaching a course online, although I still don't know what nor when. I confess that I did it because I wanted to learn the skill. Acquiring skills is something I really like.
- For unbloggable reasons, I love historians. Or at least the history department at my institution. And I hate the philosophers.
- Random comments from my students that have made me laughed, have amused me, or that have horrified me (each one is from a different student):
* A student coming into my office for the first time, and looking around: "Oh wow, are you ADD like me?" I loved it.
* "Were the Nazis neoliberals?"
* "What is the subjunctive exactly?" (after a semester mostly devoted to teaching it)
* "Why do you teach so much history in your Latin American Civilization class? I like when we see videos"
* "Before I started this class, I wanted to get a job with the IMF. Now I want to get the job but to destroy it from the inside. Do you think it's possible?"
And so goes my week. Meetings until 7pm. Yeah...
-As a consequence, I felt behind in my grading just in time for the end of the semester
-I went to Spain for a week. I had a good time, but the conference was second rate. I should have guessed it, but the "prestige" of the university holding it fooled me.
- While I am happy I got to spend a week in Spain, I will never again go to a Conference a week before classes end. This week is hell on earth for me.
-In the meantime, I was elected for very important committee. Out of 12 candidates the faculty at large had to choose two, and I was one of them. I am still not sure whether it was a good idea or not to run. I knew it was going to be a lot of work. What I didn't know was that the Chair of the committee quit in the last meeting. Sounds like trouble.
- I've gone to the dark side. I've signed up for a two month workshop (with a nice stipend) to get the fundamentals of online teaching. And I will probably be teaching a course online, although I still don't know what nor when. I confess that I did it because I wanted to learn the skill. Acquiring skills is something I really like.
- For unbloggable reasons, I love historians. Or at least the history department at my institution. And I hate the philosophers.
- Random comments from my students that have made me laughed, have amused me, or that have horrified me (each one is from a different student):
* A student coming into my office for the first time, and looking around: "Oh wow, are you ADD like me?" I loved it.
* "Were the Nazis neoliberals?"
* "What is the subjunctive exactly?" (after a semester mostly devoted to teaching it)
* "Why do you teach so much history in your Latin American Civilization class? I like when we see videos"
* "Before I started this class, I wanted to get a job with the IMF. Now I want to get the job but to destroy it from the inside. Do you think it's possible?"
And so goes my week. Meetings until 7pm. Yeah...
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