Context
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
3/19/2010
3/06/2010
I heard a disparaging remark
Context
One of my flights back from the COSUGI conference lasted a little under three hours. During it, a baby on board screamed bloody murder at varying intervals. Once, he or she probably kept it up for a good ten minutes. At the end of the flight, a man in my row said, "Horrible flight!"
Commentary
I hate to fly. This may come as a surprise to members of my family because I used to love it, and I still do fly on a regular basis, but I hate it. Usually this hatred takes the form of mild anxiety, often for weeks before an anticipated trip, but it sometimes turns into full-blown panic while on the plane. All told, I prefer the train. So for me, "horrible flight" would either mean I cowered in terror all the way or the plane crashed at some point. I guess most people would agree that the latter would count as a horrible flight.
But I don't want to talk about how brave my seatmate was about flying or how tolerant I am of fussy children. I want to talk about what I think upsets both of us, which is the lack of control. Once I get on that plane, I can't control how it moves or whether it lands safely or not, and that makes me crazy. Under non-flying circumstances, one can usually deal with a screaming baby that's not your own by either walking away or trying to convince the parents to do so. On a plane, not so much.
So for both of us, perhaps the feeling of helplessness is upsetting. What's interesting is the difference in what makes us feel helpless. I've already spent too much time speculating about my seatmate's feelings, so I won't try and figure out why flying doesn't appear to bother him. I will say that generally, crying babies who aren't being abused by their parents don't bother me. In the situation on the plane, I wasn't helpless. I could have tuned the baby out or listened to iTunes on my laptop. What I actually did was feel sorry for the baby and the parents. It's just about impossible to explain to an infant what ear-popping is and how to handle it.
Which leads me to faith in general. I am a firm believer that God controls everything; that it's His world and we're just living in it. This does not, however, make me behave fatalistically. I believe every moment is an opportunity to decide whether we're going to try to participate in God's will, oppose it, or ignore it. I find I always do better when I try to participate. As I mentioned in an earlier post on patience, I find I do better when I spend less time on, "Why is God doing this?" and more on "Why does He want me around while He is?"
It's a good theory; I certainly don't always put it into practice. I often say, as Mother Teresa did, "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." On the other hand, as I was reminded when I read on this blog, I think sometimes God likes to remind us that it's not all about how well we handle things for ourselves. So I try to remember that too when I fly.
What did you hear today?
One of my flights back from the COSUGI conference lasted a little under three hours. During it, a baby on board screamed bloody murder at varying intervals. Once, he or she probably kept it up for a good ten minutes. At the end of the flight, a man in my row said, "Horrible flight!"
Commentary
I hate to fly. This may come as a surprise to members of my family because I used to love it, and I still do fly on a regular basis, but I hate it. Usually this hatred takes the form of mild anxiety, often for weeks before an anticipated trip, but it sometimes turns into full-blown panic while on the plane. All told, I prefer the train. So for me, "horrible flight" would either mean I cowered in terror all the way or the plane crashed at some point. I guess most people would agree that the latter would count as a horrible flight.
But I don't want to talk about how brave my seatmate was about flying or how tolerant I am of fussy children. I want to talk about what I think upsets both of us, which is the lack of control. Once I get on that plane, I can't control how it moves or whether it lands safely or not, and that makes me crazy. Under non-flying circumstances, one can usually deal with a screaming baby that's not your own by either walking away or trying to convince the parents to do so. On a plane, not so much.
So for both of us, perhaps the feeling of helplessness is upsetting. What's interesting is the difference in what makes us feel helpless. I've already spent too much time speculating about my seatmate's feelings, so I won't try and figure out why flying doesn't appear to bother him. I will say that generally, crying babies who aren't being abused by their parents don't bother me. In the situation on the plane, I wasn't helpless. I could have tuned the baby out or listened to iTunes on my laptop. What I actually did was feel sorry for the baby and the parents. It's just about impossible to explain to an infant what ear-popping is and how to handle it.
Which leads me to faith in general. I am a firm believer that God controls everything; that it's His world and we're just living in it. This does not, however, make me behave fatalistically. I believe every moment is an opportunity to decide whether we're going to try to participate in God's will, oppose it, or ignore it. I find I always do better when I try to participate. As I mentioned in an earlier post on patience, I find I do better when I spend less time on, "Why is God doing this?" and more on "Why does He want me around while He is?"
It's a good theory; I certainly don't always put it into practice. I often say, as Mother Teresa did, "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." On the other hand, as I was reminded when I read on this blog, I think sometimes God likes to remind us that it's not all about how well we handle things for ourselves. So I try to remember that too when I fly.
What did you hear today?
3/03/2010
I saw a Twitter hashtag
Context
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
3/02/2010
I heard about an exclusive service
Context
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
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