Busy, busy, busy

Oops, dropped another!

A funny thing about being a writer: Once you've published a book, it makes it exceedingly difficult to keep writing. Land of Milk and Money is far from being a blockbuster hit, but its demands on my time have been unceasing since it was published last summer. Many juicy topics have begged for my attention, but I haven't added a single word to this blog for over a month. Appalling!

A new pope resides in Rome. I should write about the inevitable American schism, already de facto and in danger of becoming de jure. Our governor in California wants a linkage between student success rates and funding for public schools. Danger! My family is as wild and wacky as ever. (Cue the heart-warming theme music.) I've plunged into reading the literature of the Portuguese-American diaspora. I have reactions!

And, of course, there are the events associated with running to and fro to book events, up and down California, on TV and radio, and even the East Coast. In light of recent events, it's just a little spooky that I was at the Dartmouth campus of the University of Massachusetts, where one of the Boston bombers was enrolled. No, I don't think I met him while I was there. Terrorists tend not to come to book readings. Perhaps they should.

And here is a friend's conception of the UMass Dartmouth campus under lock-down.

The Ritualists

A new strain of tardiness

The old pattern was very familiar, especially since I tend to give my students lots of short quizzes, often at the beginning of a class period: A student arrives late, sees a quiz in progress, and leaps into action, yanking a pencil out of the old book bag, snatching a quiz off the table in the front of the room, and scribbling quickly in a desperate attempt to catch up. That's the old pattern and it's not a surprising one.

Lately, however, I've seen several instances of a new pattern that is, frankly, utterly bewildering. In over thirty years of teaching, I had never seen this behavior until the last few semesters. A few of my tardy students have an unprecedented sang froid. They arrive late, see a quiz under way, and then progress casually to their desks. They never rush up to the front of the room to pick up a quiz. Their leisurely saunter gives me plenty of time to stroll over and hand them one. (Service with a smile!)

This new breed of tardy student is calm and generally unruffled, except sometimes a small moue telegraphs the unspoken thought, “Oh, here we go again!” The serene latecomer positions the water bottle or energy drink or Starbuck cup on a corner of the desk,  carefully tucks away the cell phone or iPod, peels off the coat and rolls it up to tuck in the book cage under the desk, rummages about in the book bag for a pencil or pen (sometimes deliberating over his or her choice of several writing implements—mustn't pick the wrong one!), digs out a calculator and places it precisely in the corner opposite the beverage (whether or not the quiz requires number-crunching), and then finally (as if in surprise) takes note of the quiz sitting atop the desk and begins to ponder it.

This settling-in ritual, in its various versions, eats up at least two minutes, sometimes three. Sometimes there is a lengthy interlude with the smartphone, scrolling through messages and tweets received in the interval between breaking eye contact with the screen upon arriving at the classroom door and arriving at the desk, occasionally extended by the imperative of replying to urgent missives. I imagine most of them are in the vein of

L8 agin
prof :(
lol

Strangely enough, the explanation does not appear to be the simple one: Such casually late students are the class's losers, doomed to fail, and have fatalistically accepted their fate. Nope. That describes very few of them. My unruffled tardies are mostly C students mired in mediocrity. Perhaps they've figured out that they're doing enough to survive and it would be too much trouble to put in the work necessary to rise to the B level. I really don't know.

One thing, however, has not changed. After arriving ten minutes late and getting only five minutes to work on a fifteen-minute quiz, many chronically tardy students are quick (for a change) to complain: “I didn't have enough time!”

“Yes, you did,” I explain. “You just chose to use most of it for something else.”

Brain pain

Lesson unlearned

My students were not happy with me and they weren't keeping it a secret. After a unit on scientific notation, I gave them a quiz containing a question they deemed terribly unfair:

The mass of a proton is 1.7 × 10^–27 kilograms. What is the total mass of 7.2 × 10³³ protons? (Write your answer in scientific notation and include the units.)

I was told, with exquisite care and patronizing precision, that it was wrong of me not to tell them which arithmetic operation was expected. Addition? Multiplication? Subtraction? Division? How dared I give them numbers without specific instructions!

With professional patience, I waited out their lengthy complaints. Then, without saying a word, I turned back to the chalkboard and wrote out a brand-new problem:

The mass of a nickel is 5 grams. What is the total mass of 6 nickels?

With frowns still on their faces, they blurted out, “Thirty grams!”

Another long silence as I waited for their reactions. The faces went neutral. One brave soul ventured a comment: “Were we supposed to know that?”

“Sure,” I replied. “All of you know that you multiply to solve problems like this. You just yelled out the answer to the nickel problem because it was so easy. What I'm trying to get across is that numbers written in scientific notation are still just numbers. You work with them just like you work with other numbers. You're letting your minds shut down because they look different, but you actually already know what to do.”

A smug expression is bad pedagogy, so I maintained a mild and neutral mien. I was quietly satisfied that I had gotten an important point across. My self-congratulation was just a little premature. (You'd think I would know better by now.)

A student in the back row grunted in dissatisfaction and posed a question in an irritated tone: “So on the next exam are you going to tell us what to do with the numbers?”

My spirits fell a notch.

“What do you think?” I asked.

I hope indeed that they do.

Anthony Kennedy and Proposition 8

Another growth opportunity

It was a coincidence. On Thursday I stumbled across a television program devoted to the life of Nathaniel S. Colley, Sr. The name was familiar to me, since I had heard it many times during my stint in state service. Colley was an attorney and civil rights leader in Sacramento, known to all of the state capital's elected officials and public servants. The biographical program on Sacramento's KVIE devoted a significant amount of time to Colley's vigorous endorsement of his McGeorge Law School colleague Anthony Kennedy for the U.S. Supreme Court.

“I am here because I know Judge Kennedy well. He is a man of great integrity who has a sincere devotion to the rule of law.” —Nathaniel Colley, December 1987

On Friday I picked up a copy of that morning's San Francisco Chronicle and a headline caught my eye:

Proposition 8 foes seek sweeping high-court ruling

The newspaper reported that attorneys for the plaintiffs would argue for a Supreme Court decision that would quash not only Proposition 8, but all similar bans against same-sex marriage. Such a ruling would have the effect of extending gay marriage throughout the United States, much as Lawrence v. Texas invalidated all of the state laws against so-called sodomy (however defined) and same-sex relations.

“The petitioners are entitled to respect for their private lives. The State cannot demean their existence or control their destiny by making their private sexual conduct a crime.”

Lawrence v. Texas majority opinion
Justice Anthony Kennedy, June 2003

As a prominent black civil-rights activist, Nathaniel Colley's endorsement was a key factor in Anthony Kennedy's unanimous confirmation to the Supreme Court. Kennedy had been criticized for his membership in a whites-only country club, but Colley testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee that Kennedy had worked against the restriction on minority membership and resigned when it became clear that he would not succeed in ending it.

“Several witnesses attested to this evolution and to Judge Kennedy's open-mindedness, and to the fact that his development process is continuing. He is a grown man who will grow more, said Nathaniel Colley.”

Hearings before the Committee on the Judiciary
United State Senate

One Hundredth Congress
December 1987

Justice Kennedy is today the high court's most famous “swing vote.” With the notable exception of the Obamacare decision, where it was Chief Justice Roberts who cast the deciding vote, most observers agree that as Kennedy goes, so goes the Supreme Court. Naturally, therefore, all eyes are on the author of the Lawrence v. Texas decision. Will Justice Kennedy seize upon the Proposition 8 case as a new opportunity for growth, or will he continue his recent trend of aligning with the court's conservative bloc?

Many people are pessimistic. Kennedy has not inspired much confidence. My fingers, however, are figuratively crossed. Justice Scalia is an intemperate bully who has roundly abused his colleagues when they disagree with him. Kennedy has no reason to embrace Scalia's position to preserve a collegiality that is nonexistent. He can do as he pleases.

Will it please him to strike down Proposition 8? And, if he does, will he dispatch it with a stiletto or a saber? If Kennedy is thinking in terms of his judicial legacy, he must certainly be aware that cases decided on narrowly-construed grounds with limited impact do not make for key chapters in the history books. If he ducks the matter with a convenient technicality, he will have squandered a golden opportunity to leave his mark on the Golden State and beyond. The author of Lawrence could burnish his reputation as a milestone jurist with a simple and straightforward ruling in Hollingsworth that Proposition 8 and all measures like it are unconstitutional on equal-rights grounds.

In this context it might be appropriate to recall Anthony Kennedy's tenure at McGeorge School of Law. The longtime dean was a gay man, as was one of the dean's best friends, a closeted actor who was among the law school's most significant benefactors when he wasn't playing a lawyer on TV. Kennedy should keep these friends and colleagues in mind as he decides the Proposition 8 case. He could strike another blow for the advancement of civil rights. He could confirm Nathaniel Colley's judgment that he is a man who grows.

And he could give Scalia apoplexy.

The once and future pope?

His eminence Boba Cardinal Fett?

The next pope of the Roman Catholic Church will be elected during the month of March, taking over as supreme pontiff from the resigned Benedict XVI, who is expected to revert to his pre-papal name of Joseph Ratzinger. The ex-pope is supposed to devote the remainder of his life to quiet contemplation and prayer, discontinuing his practice of inspirational writing for fear of overshadowing his successor. Ratzinger will supposedly be immured in the Mater Ecclesiae monastery.

There is, however, a subtle plot by the College of Cardinals to keep the new pope in check. The men in red are seizing the rare opportunity of having an ex-pope on hand while breaking in the new guy. They can always threaten to bring the old guy back if the new one disappoints. Of course, Ratzinger is old and tired. The cardinalatial plot depends crucially on Ratzinger's preservation as pope-in-reserve. A clever cabal has solved the problem. Unknown to the world at large, Benedict XVI has been encased in carbonite, as demonstrated by this rare photograph of the pontiff in frozen repose.

The revelatory picture confirms the rumor that Benny Hex was not part of the cardinals' scheme, as he was obviously taken by surprise in mid-blessing. Clever, clever cardinals!

Cows in the city

Escape from the valley

Or perhaps I should say, “Cows in The City,” as San Francisco is wont to style itself.

In a few hours I will be participating in my first book event to occur outside the boundaries of California's great Central Valley. My novel will be presented to curious urbanites, no doubt eager to learn about the arcane details of Portuguese immigrant life on a family dairy farm. The subject matter is redolent with a sense of thrills, excitement, and drama. Irresistible!

If you're in the Bay Area this evening, consider dropping in at Books Inc. in San Francisco's Opera Plaza on Van Ness. The event officially starts at 7:00, but I'll be loitering in the area beforehand. (Loitering in bookstores is something I'm good at.)

Self-diagnosis

This ought to hurt a little

It usually happens right after the first exam of the semester. Somewhere between one third to two thirds of the class is disappointed with the results. Nearly everyone expected an A or a B. Many are surprised they earned a C, D, or even an F. I give an assignment:

Send me an e-mail message by noon on Wednesday that contains two things:

1. A description of what you think went wrong on your exam and why you didn't score better.
2. A description of what you plan to do to deal with the problem(s) described in #1 and how you're going to do it.

Except for the few fatalists who signed up for the class in full expectation of miserable failure (why are they even there?), the students tend to take the assignment seriously. Interesting and often thoughtful responses come in:

I think part of my reason for scoring so low was I didn't thoroughly double check my work. I missed a good amount of points by not double checking that I knew answers to, or just wrote down wrong but still knew the right answer to.

An excellent observation. We have a long class period and I allow my students the entire time for the exam. They have ample opportunity to review and check their answers. Getting out the door before the class period is over is not a good priority.

I skipped the last two sections of the chapter so I didnt get enough practice with the word problems. I also made a lot of simple mistakes that could have been avoided if I would have checked my work carefully.

Self-knowledge. A beautiful thing. The next step is to actually do something about it.

I didn't push myself hard enough to finish all chapter homework. which would of help me master solving linear equations ,inequalities and problem solving ect.

Indubitably. Hardly anyone succeeds without practice, and that's what the homework is for. Thanks for noticing.

I think my problem for the test was I didn't study enough.

Yes, I do recommend the practice of studying. Do please give it a try.

1. I think what was wrong with the exam and why I got such a low score was the fact that I barely got any sleep. 2. Study more, go to bed early, and be more prepared. Also I should try to understand certain problems more

Okay, I think you raise some good points. People do better on exams when they are well rested. However, I sense an element of denial. Of the last five class days, you missed three. See the problem?

Rewrite!

Where is an editor when you need one?

Perusing the San Francisco Chronicle over breakfast this morning, I lit upon an article on the insistence of Tea Partiers that they had no intention of going away, reports of their death supposedly greatly exaggerated. It was amusing to see that astroturf specialist Sal Russo was quoted: “Of course, the brand has been hammered, but the ideas haven't been hammered—and that's why they will always come back.”

The unrepentant Russo is described by the Chronicle reporter as “the Sacramento GOP political consultant who founded Tea Party Express, a network that since it began in early 2009 has connected millions of conservative activists, raised millions of dollars, and used its clout to back once-unknown political figures such as Sarah Palin.” That's half right. Russo is indeed one of the political promoters who reaped a rich reward by running out in front of a horde of disgruntled anti-Obama right-wingers and became a “grassroots leader” willing to collect names and spam those people with incessant appeals for money to fight against the Kenyan-Marxist-Socialist threat in the White House. Whether you account him successful or not depends on your choice of metric. Fleecing the flock? Brilliant success! Defeating Obama? Miserable failure!

But I come neither to bury Russo nor to praise him. He is what he is and his political operation will undoubtedly continue to seek willing victims to feed its appetites. My theme is taken from journalist Alan Barth, who in a 1943 book review penned the phrase, “News is only the rough first draft of history.” (The catchy line was later taken up by Philip L. Graham and others.) If the San Francisco Chronicle's news article on the so-called Tea Party is a “rough first draft” of history, I think the emphasis must be on “rough.” Did you spot the same anachronism that I did?

Yeah. It's the bit about Sarah Palin: “used its clout to back once-unknown political figures such as Sarah Palin.” While Palinistas abound in the ranks of the various Tea Parties, carts and horses are getting pretty badly mixed up in the Chronicle reporter's notebook. Palin was a political unknown only until John McCain disqualified himself from the presidency by tapping her as his running mate in the summer of 2008. That's several months before Rick Santelli blew his stack and called on live television in February 2009 for a “Chicago Tea Party” from the floor of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. Right-wing interests were quick to exploit the opportunity to create various Tea Party organizations (like Russo's Tea Party Express), aided and abetted by constant promotional exposure on Fox News.

Today the Tea Party ranks are full of broken-hearted activists who grudgingly backed Mitt Romney as the only viable vehicle to oppose Antichrist Obama. Many of them pine for Sarah Palin to return from her frozen exile to lead them on a crusade (where “crusade” is indeed le mot juste) to save the nation from various ill-defined fates worse than death. But the Tea Party, as such, postdates Palin's over-extended fifteen minutes of fame. It had nothing to do with turning her from a “once-unknown political figure” into the wet dream of deranged right-wingers.

A failure of imagination

Non carpe diem

If it weren't Saturday, my reaction would have been different. Cartoonists like Stephan Pastis have confessed that Saturday is where weak comic strips go to die—or at least to be overlooked. If Scott Adams had scheduled the Dilbert strip to run on a Monday, I would have perceived it as the first installment in a promising new story arc, with four sequels to anticipate. Since, however, it appeared in Saturday's newspaper, the strip was evidently considered a dud, or at best a squib with a small pop. Here's the key panel:

Dilbert replies that his pointy-haired boss should not have high expectations for Dilbert's first draft. The reader can now emit a short, dry chuckle and move on. Unless Adams surprises me on Monday, however, this is a missed opportunity. Isn't the creation of content-free responses to awkward questions a significant corporate survival skill? Consider the following hypothetical question, which we can anticipate in general form if not in specific:

Q: What are your plans for NOUN? We can't afford to let our competition get ahead of us on NOUN.

Really, now. How difficult could it be to answer that question? Try this on for size (and impenetrability):

A: I'm glad you asked that. Our planning task force has a subgroup specifically devoted to NOUN and will be rolling out a timeframe for NOUN implementation that will maintain our competitive edge. We have been aware of the importance of NOUN for quite some time and have allocated resources for appraisal of NOUN options from our future projects initiative. We feel that we are ahead of the curve on NOUN and will be able to respond quickly to rival NOUN implementations.

You can't go too far wrong with that, can you?

Q: Are you ready to VERB? Your master plan does not address VERBing anywhere.

You already have the idea now. The answers write themselves:

A: Actually, the master plan has provisions for seizing opportunities for creative departures in new directions, implicitly including VERBing. You may be unaware that [random name] has specialized training in how to VERB and can bring those skills on-line in the near-term to establish our presence in VERBing in a high-profile and significant way. This is especially true because [repeat name] is the nexus of an inter-departmental strategy team that can facilitate cross-division implementation of VERBing options where those options are most appropriately tailored to enhance high achievement relative to our success metrics.

That speaks volumes, no? (No.)

With all of his experience in corporate bureaucracy, Scott Adams could easily have cobbled together a sequence of four superficially responsive non-responses for a series of strips. Alas, it looks like a missed opportunity.

I suppose it would be fun to add a couple of examples with more of an educational orientation, but I used all of those up in our latest accreditation report.

Comics crushed on the wheel of time

Déjà vu with Lucy Van Pelt

In place of the “eternal feminine,” Lucy from the Peanuts comic strip provides us with the “eternal fussbudget.” This week she spoke a truth laden with irony from the funny pages of the newspaper. The irony was new, generated by the fact that Lucy's words were not. Here is the installment from January 2, 2013, where Lucy is fussing about the supposedly “new” year.

The year, of course, is not the only thing that was “used.” For the uninitiated, the giveaway could be found in the label Classic Peanuts, the sign that Charles Schulz may be long gone but his undead comic has been sucked into the endless time-vortex of the modern comics page. Classic Peanuts had plenty of company. Lynn Johnston's For Better or Worse was shocked back into life with a brisk slap of the defibrillator paddles. The rebooted strip went into reruns, recycling the original strips (ostensibly with some modest editorial oversight and emendations by Johnson.)

At least these recycled comic strips are the actual products of the bylined cartoonists. The late Schulz and the retired Johnston really did write those gags and create those drawings. If you're fortunate(?) enough to have The Wizard of Id in your local paper, you'll see that it still carries the bylines of its late creators, Brant Parker and Johnny Hart, although it has long been in the hands of the uncredited Jeff Parker. It's not really a secret, of course, but it's still a little weird that the current Parker prefers to work without attribution. Perhaps he prefers that today's readers blame the original creators for today's pallid and deracinated version.

Johnny Hart's other brain-child, B.C. is similarly being kept alive by a distribution syndicate willing to settle for the imitative work of the creator's descendants. It works, right? Otherwise, we would not be seeing the cavalcade of strips that will not die: Dick Tracy has outlived Chester Gould, Blondie lives forever although Chic Young is gone, Mark Trail continues his trail-blazing without the help of Ed Dodd, Dennis the Menace still bothers Mr. Wilson in the absence of Hank Ketcham, and Frank and Ernest were inherited by the son of Bob Thaves. This is by no means an exhaustive list, even if it is a bit exhausting.

I admit that I usually smile when I see Classic Peanuts, even though I often recall having seen the strip before. The work of Charles Schulz holds up to repeated readings. In fact, it's usually better than the “new” strips cobbled together from the remnants of the work of the original creators. These latter offerings are often vigorless revenants that stalk the comics pages, their Frankensteinian stitches showing. If you listen closely, you can hear their sad pleas: “Brains! Brains!” But those brains are long gone.