The Dwell Christmas Home

Lights

After I threw a fit about how trashy I thought multi-colored Christmas lights were, my amazingly talented, "very perfect" wife designed this display, suitable for something like Dwell Magazine.

Alisa was well complimented the next day on the tastefulness of her handiwork. She responded demurely with, "I just got the stuff at the grocery store and made the wreath out of some sticks from the backyard."

The wreath is really amazing. Take a closer look.

Maybe I was wrong about Presidential hopeful Dr. Howard Dean. Perhaps complaining can get you something.

No Thanks, I'm Fine for Now

Sometimes I think that maybe I'd like another job, where I might make more money or get the chance to work with graduate students.

Then I realize that I live 25 minutes away from this.

Breaks

Okay, yes I'm gloating. But I do have four classes worth of final projects to grade. Tally-ho.

New and Improved Introduction to Creative Writing

I'm going to break loose. I've just decided that I want to completely challenge the way I teach creative writing. It might somehow effect how I teach other writing courses as well, I hope.

In order to articulate myself here, let me begin with some of my beliefs about creative writing. The most important thing is to write a lot. I've picked this up from my photography addiction. A body is never going to get good at anything by monkeying around.

Some real dedication will be necessary, on my part and on the part of my students.

Beyond that, though, I think I need to mention that an economy of exchange has taken over the universities. Everything around here is quid pro quo: I'll do a certain kind of work if you give me a certain kind of grade, and contrariwise, I'll give you a certain kind of grade if you'll do a certain kind of work.

This will be familiar to people who teach, maybe even to people who don't.

In any case, the conundrum for me has long been this: how do I get out of this economy? How can I get beyond throwing herring to the performing dolphins? How can I get them invested in the labor of learning to become better writers?

I think the answer is this...

I'm going to give my students up to 5 points per page of prose (which will include fiction, essay, exploration, exercises, and responses) and up to 15 points per page of poetry (meaning anything written with a thoughtfully and conscientiously broken line).

Here's the trick, though. To get an A out of the class, they're going to need at least 500 points. That's going to mean something like 70 pages of prose and 10 pages of poetry, which is a lot unless you think that they're going to have 84 days during the spring semester in which to work (taking one day a week off). That's a little less than a page of something a day.

And that is not only doable, it's probably imperative. When's the last time you heard of some guitar nerd getting better without playing allthe time? How about a high-percentage free throw shooter? An actuary? Well, that's how it's going to be with my writers.

Now I can just hear people talking about the issue of grading. Sure. I'm not going to really grade this stuff. That's not important. If you'll notice, I said that I'd give up to a certain amount of points. If it seems like the work is sloppy or inconsiderate (which is pretty easy to discern) then they'll only get a couple points. Solid, concerted efforts will yield max points.

Some of the assignments will be formal, some will not. Some will be in class. Some will be outside of it. Some will be exercises. Some will be actual poems, essays, and stories. This fluidity will allow for some free play in the structure of the course. Students can also invent their own assignments in addition to the ones I give them.

What about feed back? I say they can come get it from me if they want it, and if they don't, I'm not going to force it on them. I'd rather spend the bulk of my time on students who are interested in coming to talk to me. If they don't want it, if they're not going to read and absorb and try to follow it, then why give it to them?

So many portfolios sit in my office until the proscribed amount of time has passed, then I throw them in the dumpster (no recycling around here, plus there's the whole Buckley Amendment). So why waste my work like that? I'd rather spend that time in face-to-face encounters with students who want to grow. If they're just after the herring, it's there for them. If they want more, I'll have more time to give them.

Reading will also factor in, negatively. For every time I feel like a student is not prepared with the reading for the day (or with anything for that matter). They'll lose 25 points. Four times will result in a 100 point loss, which is a quarter of their total points. To fix it, they'll have to write a lot more, which won't hurt them in the least.

On the last Friday of the month, students will have to "bank" their points, which means "turn in an organized notebook of the work." I'll not grade a disorganized notebook, or at least I'll knock off a bunch of points. If they don't bank the points, they'll lose them. This should control the whole "use a bunch of different pens" phenomenon that often attends such endeavors. I'll also only bank 200 points a month, which should also help the students choose a good pace for themselves.

Who knows, this could flop miserably, but it's worth a shot.

Thankful

One of my students sent out an e-mail this morning to a few people with a list of things she was thankful for. Mostly this kind of thing would make me crazy, but she was so earnest (and normally a kind of cynical person) that I found it really kind of moving.

So after a lot of thought...could you please make it a CHEESE burger.

Sorry, I had to. So anyway, after a lot of thought, my answer is this: I am thankful that I have a place in this world. Seems like many do not.

I'm also thankful that Zoë likes Jerry Garcia and that she calls everything in the world that tastes good a "cookie."

I'm thankful that, despite its basic inefficiency (so far as biological operations are concerned), beauty still makes the world a better place.

I'm thankful I grew up in Portland.

I'm thankful for my wife, saying why is impossible.

I'm thankful that my mother took me out of school for the King Tut and Alexander Calder exhibits and that she let me be late to class once so we could sit in the car outside my high school for a full twenty minutes listening to the rest of a radio station's morning focus on Paul Simon's Graceland.

I'm thankful that I can say I've been a professional musician. (I'm thankful for that 100.00 tip I got from a drunk dude, even though he was surly the next week).

I'm thankful for students who say things like this in their presentations: "2001: A Space Odyssey is a movie you just have to be patient with." That girl is going places.

The Loneliest Man

Soledad

This is a photo of Eric Soledad, who spent five years in the Utah State Correctional System for gang activities related to the stealing of a gumball machine.

Eric lives next door to my friends Paula and Pablo Airth in Ogden, UT. I saw him shirtlessly mowing the lawn with his father in mid-October. They looked like they were having a blast.

But as soon as I realized that someone actually had "lonely" carefully tatooed across the entire beam of his shoulders, I went straight for my relatively new Canon G5. (I told my wife that this was exactly why I needed such an expensive tool/toy.)

As soon as I gathered the camera up, I stalled out, sitting on the front porch, fingering the lens cap, trying to figure out some approach that wouldn't end up with my seeming like a patronizing middle class liberal.

This is one of the great problems of photography: trying to convince someone to let you "turn them into art." If people think you're going to be ironic, then they're not going to put up with you and your expensive cameras and your "refined" visual sensibilities.

I ended up getting Pablo to break the ice.

Eric was more than willing to discuss his ink, which was more involved than the "lonely." It told an entire narrative of his former gang affiliations and incarceration. But when we got down to it, his back was really the piece de la resistance. But he did ask what it was for. My answer was kind of lame, but maybe not.

"I just like to record all the cool things I see." Then I added, "I teach intro to photography," which seemed to help.

Ultimately we got down to brass tacks. "Why lonely?" I asked.

"My name's Soledad," he said. "That's Spanish for lonely."

Right. Dumb question, Dr. Petersen.

Elmo's World

Elmo

I feel bad for the old guy, but that's what you get when you belong to a 16-month-old baby girl.

Foolish, Foolish Man

I am sick, and should be sleeping, but I can justify it a little because I have to get my levain ready for tomorrow's breadmaking.

I also just set up a DSL connection at home, which I have been without for two years, and I am getting a little overly-enamored of being able to putz around at home, even when I should be sleeping so I won't be a burden to my family.

It was a lot easier to pull these kinds of moves when I was a single foolish man. Now there are other people to wake me up in the morning, and well, I can't say I hate it.

Partially Cloudy Offensive

The other night I was watching the war with my wife and baby daughter -- like we've been doing for the last few weeks -- and I came to the conclusion that the strangest aspect of the whole thing for me was not the CNN animations, nor was it the fact that Al-Jazeera has hot undraped correspondants, nor was it the constant barrage of ex-military commentary.

No, the strangest part of the was coverage for me was the weather.

Both the Weather Channel and CNN in particular have been covering the weather as if there was no war going on at all. Without the least bit of fanfare or transition, some news meteorologist glides in front of a chroma-keyed map of Iraq with her thumb button where she begins gesturing to a high pressure ridge descending from Turkey.

These reports go something like this: "In Karbala, today there will be a slight change of precipitation, and in the capitol of Baghdad we'll see overcast skies until just after noon, when the low lying clouds will burn off. Highs in Baghdad will be in the mid-to upper 90s."

All this complete with icons of the sun partially hidden by fluffy cartoon clouds and a computer generated map that whooses past like the map of the Colorado ski areas.

It's almost too much.

Slaughterhouse

Last night I dreamt a French word over and over. There was no narrative to the dream, just the word: abbatoir.

Though I am reasonably competant in French (I could vacation without too much discomfort) my vocabulary is quite small. And I've never heard of this word -- abbatoir -- before.

I awoke from the dream and stumbled down the hallway, took a piss, and then went into my study and looked up the word in a French/English dictionary. Even though I had not seen the word in my dream, only heard it, I went right to it.

The word, I discovered, means: slaughterhouse.

Strangely, enough my best friend Michelle, had only yesterday been reading about slaughterhouses in Fast Food Nation.

PhD? In What?

I find it chilling that the authors of last week's article in our school paper, "Laundra's Counsel Leads to Heartache," chose to quote Machiavelli in support of their argument, an argument that seems to say (perhaps unintentionally) that SUU students lack the ability to reason.

When one is called "Machiavellian" one generally doesn't mean to describe a person who is insightful, generous, and wise (as the quotation they offered might imply) but rather one means to describe someone or something characterized by expediency, deceit, and cunning.

The strangeness of using this quotation way out of context isn't surprising really. George Bull, a Machiavelli translator, observes in his introduction to the Penguin edition that The Prince is a work more often quoted than read.

By quoting Machiavelli in their article, these professors seem to indicate that SUU students are not able to think, but they depend on mere appearances. I don't think that is true; my students are much smarter than that. But this is not the thrust of my response.

Most of the commentary lobbed at Professor Laundra is of the same stripe as this strange and incomplete use of Machiavelli, namely, Laundra's detractors took a piece of information out of context and then proceeded to riff on it.

In the case of the Machiavelli quotation, it's probably useful for folks to know that the quotation these professors used in their article comes from Book 18 of The Prince, a section that details the ways in which leaders ought to practice deception when it is useful for them to do so. In that section, just a few lines prior to the passage quoted, Machiavelli offers the following advice:

I'll even add to this: having good qualities and always practicing them is harmful, while appearing to practice them is useful. It's good to appear to be pious, faithful, humane, honest, and religious, and it's good to be all those things; but as long as one keeps in mind that when the need arises you can and will change into the opposite?.And therefore [a prince] needs a spirit disposed to follow wherever the winds of fortune and the variability of affairs leads him. As I said above, it's necessary that he not depart from right but that he follow evil.

Similarly, if those who stood against Professor Laundra would have looked into what he does in his classes and taken that information in its full context and in its entirety, then they might have actually been able to engage this issue the way good scholars and colleagues do: with hard facts rather than mere opinion.

I hope students reading this debate will not end up thinking that educated people normally engage in ad homenim attacks based on incomplete information. One must always study issues out, reflecting on them to the fullest extent of one's own faculties before acting on them. This is just as true in spiritual and ethical matters as it is in professional and academic ones.