Constructing Kasun, Educator

There are sometimes mundane aspects of being a student which are so common but often undiscussed.  Here I’ll illuminate a few of those.

Reading: I know I mention it a lot.  But each week I print off several pages of readings when I am not reading actual books.  Sometimes the stack for one week is so large it seems as large as a semester’s coursework of reading.  Sometimes I am intimidated by that stack of white paper (I’ve already reconciled myself to the damage to the planet I’m doing).  I want to hide under the bed, pretend it’ll go away.  But I read it somehow.  My highlighter flashes in the margins of text.  I try to do all my reading–mostly because in many ways I like the text (even if I don’t like the style or some of the arguments).

Class discussion:  Here’s where I get really earnest.  I can’t help myself from caring a lot about the discussion.  I bring questions about the readings.  I get really animated.  Sometimes I feel like nothing is more important than working through an idea with my colleagues.  I don’t like it when class is cancelled (even though I’m relieved to have a break).  I want those opportunities to talk with co-learners.  I realize that after this program, I won’t likely be in those spaces again as co-learner on a semester system.

Paper writing: My experiences in the Writing Project helped me hone skills in writing thoughtful reflections to texts (and some professors ask for these kinds of short, 2 to 3 page papers frequently).  I feel good when I write them, like I’m improvising jazz (if only!).  I do not ever feel good when writing long papers with academic citations.  Then I feel afraid, worried, and often stuck.  The prose goes from fiery to wonky; my spirit feels slightly deadened by the process.  I fear my work isn’t good enough (whatever the standard is, argh), I worry I’m not really making a contribution to anything.  I like synthesizing ideas; I’m either lacking the confidence or buy-in to enjoy the process of academic writing.  I suspect few people really enjoy the genre.  Ideally I hope to marry some of my writing skills with the genre of academic writing so that I can survive the process and eventually like it.  I’m wondering who to use as models…  I’m reading some great ethnographic work as a start.

A couple good folks asked recently for an update.  Thank you for coming back, reader.

The middle school where I run an advisory program is so engrossed in test preparations (you know, US “gotcha” testing based on business models of accountability) that I was directed to write my advisory lesson plans to help students prep additionally.  That is, when there still is advisory when the school isn’t shut down in “testing camp” as preparation.  The school, like the majority of schools in Texas, spends at least three months a year in test-prep mode (if not the whole year–ask the teachers).  Here’s the upshot, today’sAustin Statesman says schools that do well choose to release their students TEN DAYS EARLY!  Yup, instruction becomes so invaluable after all the testing is through, why not?  

I miss the Korean teachers I worked with in January and February.  They helped me understand why I care about education when I taught them what education is in the U.S. (as well as a neat course on writing instruction for language learners).  Lots of heart, lots of passion in those teachers.  I do not miss feeling crazy as I tried to juggle my various jobs and fulltime student life.

Official student life: I read about a book a week for each course I’m taking.  All courses are directly in my field, taught by professors in my small program.  I feel I am getting stronger in my theoretical orientation–and, if you’re curious, some of that includes the works of Bourdieu, Foucault, Marx, Anzaldua, Freire, Gramsci, Dorothy Holland, Vygotksy, Bakhtin, G.H. Mead, and Voloshinov.  

Big point of anxiety–what will I research?  This question is always mediated by wanting to address a need in the field of education (and social science).  I kick around ideas all the time, from students from West Virginia who migrate out, to whiteness studies and white supremacy, to colleagues who experienced (like I did) an amazing grassroots organization while we collaborated in community development as college students in Guadalajara, Mexico, to immigration and how to help support immigrant students and their communities through education.

Personal life–today’s economy.  Since I last posted, my husband lost his job (the entire division is being shut down) and got a new one.  In the process, we wondered about returning to Washington, D.C. where I could finish my former PhD program and where he could take his old job back.  I decided I wanted to finish this program, regardless of the personal cost.  We were fortunate, and he got a new job here, so we get to stay in the same place together (at least for now).

Chiquis–my dog.  My affectionate friend survived a crazy bout with cancer and an experimental treatment.  And then last week I noticed the tumor was back.  We’ve been to the vet, and the scenarios are not good.  As far as we can tell, we will be saying goodbye to her soon (perhaps weeks, perhaps months).  While I want to be in control and change this, I cannot.  I have to surrender to that.

Finishing out my break–after celebrating my birthday (three days off–hey, it IS break)–back to work.  Reading ahead for my classes so I can manage the conference I’ll be presenting at in Denver next week.  I’m presenting on “The Unexamined Privilege of Whiteness in TESOL” and “Helping Immigrant Students Navigate the Terrain of Anti-Immigrant Sentiment.”  I’ll have assistance from awesome former colleagues at George Mason University.