academic coach

Tuesday Tidbit

This week I began a new service to my e-newsletter readers: the Monday Motivator.  I send out a quote and a brief commentary on the message.  Based on the positive feedback I've been getting from folks, I thought I'd post the weekly quotes on my blog as well. 

"No task is a long one but the task on which one dare not start: It becomes a nightmare."

           --     Charles Baudelaire

The act of getting started on a project is one of the most common and difficult challenges I see among my coaching clients and doctoral students. Whether it is sitting down each day to begin work on your dissertation, or planning a new research project, in order to reach the end you have to begin. For some academics, the key to success is developing the habit of brief daily writing sessions. Even during those semesters when teaching, class preparation, and departmental meetings overwhelm you, the few scattered hours you carve out for your own research and writing can be the most important in furthering your career.

Even short work sessions build up over time. And if you are writing regularly, it will be much easier to avoid procrastination.

So get started today!

Long-winded Oratorical Lecturer (LOL)

On March 26th, at Mangalore University in India, a lecturer in applied botony finished a 98-hour lecture to claim the world’s record for longest classroom lecture, The Times of India and Inside Higher Education reported.

Annaiah Ramesh was aiming for 101 hours, but had to be stopped by his mother who became concerned about his incoherent speech.

The previous record, 88 hours, was held by a South African academic pontificating about democracy.

Perhaps we could get our teaching out of the way each semester by holding a long-weekend marathon lecture section.

"Killing Me Softly"

Back in November, "Jane" of See Jane in the Academy wrote a wonderful post about pain of writing and the agony of projects that take longer to complete than we'd like (ie. all of them!)

I liked her post so much that I copied it into a draft post to return to later.  This seems like a good time to revisit her insights because many of the academics I work with are trying to get a manuscript out even as they grade the huge stacks of papers on their desks. 

So, in honor of all of us who are struggling with writing projects right now (ie. all of us) here are some quotes from Jane's November post:

"I'm definitely at the point where I don't like this paper, I'm sure there is nothing new or insightful in it, and I want to die. Okay. Not literally on the last one, but I'm serious about the other two. This self-doubt and dislike is a part of my writing process. When I start a paper I'm sure there is something I have to say. But as I write, and especially once I have a draft out, I begin to question whether or not there is anything good there. I know this comes from living with the material so long that it becomes familiar (and thus, apparently, uninteresting) to me. I usually push on and finish papers.

"But.

"This paper has been stuck in this rut for months now. And I keep just putting it away because other things come up--things that demand my immediate, intense, and enduring attention--like a conference proposal, presentation, or paper, or things like that.

"So in honor of this paper being the theme of the week, some thoughts on writing:

"* Writing is tremendously hard. The major challenge I've experienced around this paper is choosing which story I'm telling, and then doing it in an artful way that effectively combines and synthesizes the literature from two distinct fields (but on the same basic topic) without writing myself into a place where I don't have an audience in either field.

"* I think I'm frustrated with this paper because it seems like it is taking me forever to write it. Writing is tremendously slow.

"So in sum. Writing is hard and slow. "

Amen!

Several aspects of Jane's musings intrigue me. 

First of all, I've noticed that many of the folks I work with get stuck when they need to integrate material from two or more fields.  Interdisciplinary work raises all sorts of difficulties.  It is complicated to write for more than a single academic audience, terms used by one field may be unfamiliar to others, and the amount of material to cover is often overwhelming.

Her words triggered thoughts about the natural ebb and flow of my own writing processes.  Jane describes a crisis of confidence once she has a draft.  I believe that my own fluctuating enthusiasms follow a different trajectory.  I'm very excited when I first have an idea.  Then, starting the project is difficult.  If I get stuck in the middle, I get very discouraged.  This is the point where I sometimes lack the moxie to push through to completion. 

When I finish a draft, my mood soars -- as long as I don't read the work at that point!  I need to give myself a break before I can see my words clearly.  The more time that I can give myself between cycles of revision the better able I am to slice away the chaff and appreciate the useful kernels.  When academics feel loathing for a newly-finished manuscript, I sometimes suggest that they look back at a paper they wrote more than a year ago.  It usually looks pretty good to them.  Then I ask them to remember how they felt about that completed project when they were at the revision stage.  Often this helps people realize that their emotional reactions to the current manuscript never realistically reflect the worth of the piece.  We can't see our work when we're too close to it.

Sending off manuscripts for publication throws me back into a trough of self-doubt.  The fear of exposure overwhelms me.  What if people think it is horrible?  What if it is attacked?  The terror of negative judgments or rejection seems to keep many of the academics I work with in a kind of purgatory: they almost finish pieces and never get them in the mail.

Finally, when something appears in print, seeing the typeface on paper always makes work look at least twice as good as it did on the computer screen.  The article is never as good as it is in my initial imaginings, but finished imperfections still feels very satisfying.

I'm going to start asking my coaching clients about their own emotional writing trajectories.  It seems like a useful avenue of self-examination. 

What patterns do your enthusiasms and self-doubt follow?  What are the most difficult phases?  When is the work most gratifying?

Learning Names

Ever since my article about learning students' names I've been getting e-mails from professors sharing their methods for memorizing their students. 

Here's one that I liked:

"In classes of twenty students I learn the names on the first day.  I learn the first name.  Then before learning the second name I repeat the first name.  Before learning the third name I repeat the first and the second.  By the end I'm repeating in order 19 or twenty names before learning the last one.  Slow, but it works for me, and the students get into it, too.  I apologize profusely if I get stuck.  Then I go around the room backwards.

"I have also gone around the room asking students to introduce themselves, but before doing that they must recite all the previous names.  Many do surprisingly well. I think the order, the repetition, and the shame of forgetting are what makes this work.

"This method also works for memorizing poetry, or really any list that is not too long--just break up longer lists."

I like the playfullness of this approach.  But it would probably take too long when there are many students in the class.

In my article, I provided 18 tips for memorizing names - but the list could have been even longer.  Do you have any interesting methods to add?

Laptops in Class

I've been thinking about this short report in Inside Higher Ed:

"A University of Memphis law professor has angered students by banning laptops from her classroom, the Associated Press reported. June Entman, the professor, told the AP that students were trying to transcribe everything she said, and that they would be more connected to the class intellectually if they listened and took noted with pen and paper. Students said that they take better notes with a laptop and have organized a petition drive against the rule."

Do any of your students bring laptops to class?

One of my coaching clients took a law course last semester.  He was astounded by what he saw when he sat in the back of the room.  Students sat with their laptops in the large lecture hall.  But only a few of them took notes consistently.  The majority were using the internet access to read the news, check their e-mail, and surf.

I taught a seminar of 12 grad students that semester.  It was called Publish not Perish.  We talked mostly about ways of getting ourselves to write, rewrite and send out articles on a regular, predictable basis.  All 'assignments' were self-designed action plans that the graduate students developed in order to move their own projects forward.  There was no required reading or tests.  The class was pass/fail. Students passed if they attended the weekly meetings.

In the middle of the semester, one second year doctoral student began bringing his laptop to class.  He'd always seemed rather bored and passive, but once he was lodged behind the computer, he stopped participating in any discussions.  We stopped expecting him to contribute. There was no need to take class notes, so I assumed that he was doing other school work. 

This student -- when he was still a member of the group -- had confessed that his biggest problem with procrastination was playing computer games and surfing on the web.  The room didn't permit wireless access to the web so I assumed that some of his preferred time-wasting practices weren't available to him. 

I was so surprised by the way he buried himself behind the laptop that I didn't say anything about it the first couple of weeks the computer appeared.  His retreat behind his screen seemed disrespectful to me and rude to the other students, but I was so fascinated by the phenomenon that I decided to wait and watch.  Would he bring it in each week?  Should I confront him?

I'm not sure why, but I decided to do nothing.  I became curious about what would happen if I ignored the situation. When students talked about the issues they'd faced each week, and we had brainstorming sessions to develop plans to attack their problems, he was left out of the loop.  At the beginning of most classes, we went around the room reporting on what we'd accomplished during the previous week and noting what strategies had worked or been difficult.  We celebrated when one member of the class defended her dissertation.  We cheered when another member was offerred a job.  We clapped when a student got a departmental fellowship that would pay her tuition for the semester. 

Meanwhile, Computer Boy made no process on his disseration proposal.  Nor did he make headway on the incomplete that was inteferring with his progress in his doctoral program.  It was as though he had become invisible.  His only contribution was the occasional tap, tap, tapping of his fingers on the keyboard.  At the time, his laptop barrier and withdrawal from the group intrigued me.  But as I think back to the class, I find myself mildly irritated by the memory of his withdrawal.  I find myself feeling guilty for choosing not to intervene -- both because I missed the opportunity to help him and because I assume that my passivity in the face of his withdrawal probably had a negative impact on the rest of the class.  I think that I was being lazy and mildly irresponsible.

What do you think?  Do your students bring their laptops to class?  How do you view the practice? What do you say or do about the phenomenon?

Too Much of a Webby Good Thing

When I give presentations to faculty, I advise them to monitor and manage their e-mail exchanges so that they are not sucked dry by their suckling students seeking succor.  For example, in response to one of my earlier posts, jo(e) commented that she handles class e-mail in the following way:

"I have a separate email account for students. And I only check it twice each week. I warn them this at the beginning of the semester. Since they have class with me three times each week, and I have office hours three times each week, and they can leave me phone messages, I really don't see the big need for them to send me emails. I would much prefer they talk to me before or after class."

Viva e-mail management!

But how should professors handle discussion boards associated with classes?  When on-line discussions are part of the course, how should teachers keep from getting swamped?  I received this question from a person who reads my e-newsletter Successful Academic News.

"I have a question -- any hints on balancing electronic communication w/students?

I teach 4 classes of 40-60 students each on semester system. All four classes have active online components, primarily discussion boards. In at least 3 of the classes -- and in a way this is a great success -- there are over 500 postings a week. I am being buried in postings. I know it's a great problem to have in one sense, but somehow each wants only me -- versus other students -- to respond to them. They are responding to each other too, but if I don't say something in each thread to each person, they say in class that they feel 'slighted', etc. And they are, for the most part, great discussions. There is SO much learning going on, I am so proud of them.

I type over 100 words a minute -- but still........How can I help them to not need my approval as much? And how do I keep up with all this as well as write for myself, etc.?"

Wow! I'm overwhelmed at the very thought of this on-line overload.

Any ideas about how to manage?

Job Interview Questions

One of my regular e-newsletter readers asks the following questions:

"I have recently been shortlisted for a faculty position (just finishing a post-doc) and am very excited about the position. My questions are:

    1) A question about appropriate dress - is a jacket necessary?  The last time I interviewed I wore my jacket for the first meeting and then carried it around for the rest of the day.  I wore it for the dean's meeting later in the day -- it was a real nuisance and made me self-conscious.  So it is really necessary?

    2) Is it appropriate to take out a note book, to both refresh my memory of specific questions I have for specific panel members, and to make notes to answers I get?  Or is this a "no no."

    3) As an internal applicant, is there anything I should consider/do differently?  Everyone knows me so it's hard to flip myself into an "applicant" and interview situation when I have had casual conversions with these people numerous times.

My answers are below -- but I've posted these questions to get ideas from readers in the academogosphere.  I'm curious what you think.

Here are some of my thoughts on the topics:

1) I think that the first guide to appropriate interview drag is COMFORT.  If schlepping the jacket around makes you uncomfortable, by all means leave it behind.

I think that a slightly more formal look for a dean is a good idea -- since he or she probably dresses a bit more formally than most professors.  However, it is rarely possible to change your outfit for a single appointment -- and jumping into a telephone booth to turn into Super Interviewer would be weird.  My solution, dress for the Dean rather than the meeting with the grad students or the junior profs.

Personally, I need to wear layers when I am giving a presentation or having meetings.  When the spotlight is on my performance my temperature seems to rise slightly and I have to avoid getting hot.  I always need short sleeved tops when I'm giving a presentation in front of lots of people -- even in the dead of winter I have on something cool under a jacket - which I remove in the first few minutes of my talk if not beforehand.

2) I would think that a notebook is fine.  But you might want to make it a small one rather than a standard 8X11 size.  What would be the downside?

3)  Internal candidates do need to act differently and they will automatically get different questions.  The questions you need to ask need to be more specific and saavy than your non-internal competitors.  You need to make sure and talk about scholarly interests, accomplishments, and directions of future research that colleagues in the department might not know about.  If you give a formal job talk (and I hope that you do) it would be good to make references to the related research of other members of the department.  You might also prepare questions for faculty who are attending your talk: ie. "I've talked about x, you study y, how do you think that specific-aspect-of-y relates to my assertion about specific-aspect-of-x?"

 

I think any comments about this reader's questions could be really helpful to many job-seekers out there....

For example, what do you think, Dean Dad? (If you post something on your own blog, let me know so that I can link to it.)

PROSElytizing

It has been quite a while since I read anything that made me guffaw this loudly.

Robert Weir's article Plain Talk for Plain Speech for Inside Higher Ed is a clever send-up of the stilted Lingua Academia that results in obscure, unreadable postmodern, post-colonial (pomo-poco) jargon.

He has formed the Society for Intellectual Clarity (SIC) and intends to launch a new journal, SIC PUPPY (Professors United in Plain Prose Yearnings).  I've asked to be included on the editorial board.

People have been ranting against pomo-poco obfuscations since mo times (the pre-post-modern era.)  My favorite rant on pompous, abstruse prose was written by George Orwell in 1945.  His essay, Politics and the English Language is an essential manifesto for clear, eloquent writing and based on the following 6 rules:

1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

The examples Orwell uses to illustrate his points are delightful.  Take this translation of a biblical passage for example:

In "modern" verse:

"Objective considerations of contemporary phenomena compel the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account."

The original:

"I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."

One of my pet peeves is that some of my coaching clients have to jargonize their writing and publish via academic presses, rather than popular, lay presses, in order to impress tenure committees.  Why are academic authors penalized for being widely read?

Missing a Meet-up

I'm disappointed.

Just got an e-mail from one of my favorite pseudonymous academibloggers suggesting a meet-up because she'll be in Chapel Hill and Durham this weekend.

Unfortunately, I'm going to be in Ann Arbor giving giving presentations at UMich.

Anybody available for a Michigan Meet-up?  I'll arrive Thurs, March 16th and return Sunday the 19th and anyone can come to my talks.  They're titled:

Why the Dissertation is Hard and What to Do About It

Giving Great Presentations 

Time Management for Academics

Click here to read descriptions of the workshops and to register if you're a UM grad student.

Grants, grants, grants

One of the things that I advise graduate students and junior faculty members is to apply for grants early and often. 

Scientists are always taught that writing grants is a career essential - and hopefully receive help from their advisor when getting started.  Social scientists usually know that grant writing is important but may receive less mentoring.  Students and junior professors in the humanities seldom pursue grant opportunities avidly -- even though being a recipient of grant awards provides a notable career boost.

A good rule of thumb for grant-getting is to start small.  Look for little known opportunities that will have a better ratio of applicants to awards.  Look for specialized grants that mesh with your research.  For example, I recently saw this notice for  the 2006–2007 Paul P. Fidler Research Grant. 

The aim of the Fidler grant is to promote the development and dissemination of original research with the potential to have a national impact on college student success. I'm sure that many of you -- including those far removed from the field of education -- could tweak existing research interests to fit the aims of the folks doling out this pot of money.

Smaller grants, such as university-based funds, or grants in highly specialized niches, are easier to get but they provide more benefits than just the money.  Later, when you apply for larger, more established grants you'll already have an enticing calling card: a successful track record.

The author of What Now? recently wrote about her ambivalence over whether to apply for a highly competitive NEH grant.  Thanks to the great input from fellow acidemibloggers, such as Ancarett and New Kid, she has decided to go for it.

One of the main points made in response to What Now's post was that writing a grant helps you clarify and articulate your research goals.  It also provides a handy external deadline that will get you to keep your rear on your chair and your hands on your keyboard.

What can you do to develop your grant writing skills?  My favorite resource is provided by Joseph Levine of MSU via his Guide for Writing Funding Proposals.  He also provides an annotated list of related links where you will find additional, excellent resources. 

This is an area in which our academiblogging community could really work together:

What lesser-known or smaller grants would you suggest that folks check out?

What grants have you applied for an how has it gone?

I've got an idea to get you sharing your tips and resources: I'll present a prize to the best response to my questions.  It will be the First Annual Academic Coach's Grant Tips Award and will consist of a $25 Amazon.com gift certificate!

The deadline for applications is March 15th.

Go for it!