berkeley lady

I should note in advance that there is no point to what follows … it's just an exercise in small-worldism.

Robin has a term she uses, "Berkeley lady," a role to which she aspires. It's not an exact term, but she described in this way when I asked her about it a bit ago. "A lady of a certain age who is stylish and comfortable in her own skin. She's not looking to be younger than she is." She probably has long grey hair, and she's at least older than Robin … say late-50s or beyond.

I was trying to get a visual on this, so I typed "berkeley lady" into Google images, but that didn't work … I got lots of stuff related to Lord Berkeley. Then I thought to try someone I knew, see if she showed up. Flossie Lewis is not a Berkeley lady, exactly … she's from Brooklyn … but I got to know her when we were grad students together at Cal, so she's a Berkeley lady to me. Flossie was the only grad student in the English program older than I was, for which I was always grateful. (If you attended my PhD graduation, that was Flossie giving the speech.)

Well, I found a picture of her right away, which I'll post in the hopes that it's OK:

Withflossie

That's Flossie with the beads around her neck. And that's the end of the first part of this story. What follows is a story about the woman with Flossie in the picture.

Now SHE is a Berkeley lady. She grew up in Petaluma, and she became friends with Flossie when they taught together at Lowell High in the City. They were both legendary teachers, beloved by generations of students. It's the part where Flossie's friend (her name was Anne) retired and moved to Berkeley that she became a true Berkeley Lady. Here, I'll quote from a memorial page to Anne Wallach, created after she died in 2005 at the age of 93:

Moving to Berkeley, she embarked on a second career that continued for over 30 years and from which she never retired. She had a passionate faith in the importance of special programs for academically gifted students, and she now began to work closely with the California Association for the Gifted. She helped establish the Academic Talent Development Program at UC Berkeley, which continues to offer summer courses for bright high-school students. Lobbying at Sacramento for the gifted brought her to the League of Women Voters, and for decades she also never missed a meeting of the Berkeley Board of Education: she often spoke out there with a quiet determination that she, the shy child decades earlier, would have thought utterly impossible.

With the advent of jet travel, she went not only to Europe but to the Middle East and India. She retained her lifelong interests in the theater and in concerts, in movies, and in literature. Even when she became too frail for these activities, she arranged for the short ride to Willard Middle School, where she volunteered as an 8th grade writing coach. Her interest in national politics grew stronger, and near the end of her life she was praising the report of the 9/11 commission and excoriating the Bush administration. A late child of the Enlightenment, she could admire religious art but found nothing to admire in religion itself. She was determined, until to the end, to live independently, and this she managed to do until the last few days of her life. Surrounded then by friends and family, she said that she had done the things she wanted to do.

That, folks, is a Berkeley Lady. And this is a small-world story by virtue of the fact that I found out about Anne Wallach via a Google search for my old friend Flossie.

But that's not the end of the small-world part of this post. I should probably mention Willard Middle School, referenced in the above obituary. Sara went to Willard … Neal not only went to Willard but was student-body president … and not only did both of my kids attend Willard, my MOTHER attended Willard.

But that's not the end of the small-world story, either. You see, I was pretty fascinated about this Berkeley Lady who knew my friend Flossie, so I kept reading. And … well, I'm cheating now to make for a little drama, I figured this out right away, but I'll stretch it out a bit. I mentioned that Anne grew up in Petaluma … her father had a chicken-and-egg farm, which was apparently quite successful until the Depression came along, at which point the family moved to San Francisco. While the family struggled, all three of the daughters and one brother managed to get college educations, which in Anne's case began her long career in teaching.

If you share some of my interests, you may have already guessed where this is headed, because to the best of my knowledge, there is only one family from Petaluma that moved to San Francisco and sent the daughters to Berkeley for schooling where that story is famous in certain circles. You see, Anne Wallach's maiden name was … Kael.

Pauline was her little sister.

And that's the end of the small-world story. On the extremely rare possibility that you don't know why this part of the story is small-world to this blog (maybe you googled "berkeley lady" to get here), check the quotation at the top of the blog.


learning, remembering

We are told that one of the best ways to stave off senility is to exercise our minds. Often, the suggested examples involve learning something new … take a class on the history of European civilization, say, learn some possible answers to the question "What Did Women Want?" by studying "Bourgeois Culture in the 19th Century." There is such a class, taught by Margaret Anderson at Cal, a survey course for undergrads. This being 2007, you can audit this course online … every lecture is archived, and you listen or even watch the lectures at your leisure. I was driving in the car this morning and decided to hear a bit of what Prof. Anderson had to say … she sounds like a fine lecturer, and the topic was an interesting one. The experience of listening to her brought back some memories, and made me think about the whole process of learning-as-senility-stopper.

European civilization was not exactly my specialty. My undergraduate degree was in American Studies, and while I took history classes as part of my major, they were American history courses … social history of the U.S., intellectual history of the U.S., women and politics in America (actually a poli-sci course, but taught by an historian). It was in the latter course that I first learned about the cult of domesticity, which Anderson mentioned in the part of the lecture I heard before I arrived at my destination and turned off the lecture.

The thing is, I hadn't really thought about the cult of domesticity for a long time. If someone asked me about it, I could give them a brief description, maybe toss off an example or two, and it all pretty much came back to me when I heard the lecture. But there was a time when I REALLY knew this stuff. I wrote papers on it, good papers … I even chose Uncle Tom's Cabin as the core text in my first graduate seminar in English. And now? I can do a fakebook version.

My point … yeah, I guess I have one … is that it is indeed good to always keep learning. There's no reason to be stuck only with what we once knew. But one of the parts of learning is what you might call re-learning, that is, remembering. It's worth reconsidering the things you used to know, the stuff that sits in the back of your mind, perhaps influencing the decisions you make and the opinions you have without your actually realizing it. Perhaps some of that stuff you used to know is no longer useful, or "true." Just as likely, it's still v.important, but you've buried in it your desire to keep up with the new.


i gotta get a new clock to keep track of this stuff

My fifteen minutes of fame have been extended yet again, and, as with the last time, it's the Chronicle that moved the hands on the clock. Last week, Jon Carroll wrote a column about plagiarism that inspired me to drop him a quick email in response. Today, Jon ran a "letters column," and guess who showed up? "I also got notes from teachers who deal with plagiarism every day in the classroom. Steven Rubio outlines an interesting dilemma …"

Yes, it's that little old fame whore, me. I'll leave it to you to follow the link so you can read the entire column … here's an excerpt from the first part of my email, which didn't get quoted:

I'm an English teacher at the community college level who refuses to blame an entire class of students, in advance, for the possible future actions of a particular student. I am not naive ... I know students plagiarize ... but that is no reason to contribute to the "culture of distrust" which most surely does exist. And so I do not have students submit their papers via Turnitin.

Your column today points out the reality of higher education today, although I'm not sure this is more true now than before: students in general are not in college to get an education as much as they are there to improve their chances on the job market. And students are not to blame for this state of affairs.

Thanks to Jay Hipps … yes, Jay, you were the first to let me know! I hadn't gotten to my morning paper yet.


shut yer hole, you prick

Since this is a post about labor issues, I need to state in advance that I speak only for myself. I have been a proud member of a union since 1974 … different unions at different times … I believe absolutely in the importance of unions. I have, nonetheless, been a bit of a naughty union member over the years … there was a time when I was a steelworker when my local president told me 1) that I better watch my back, you never knew what might happen, and 2) don't count on my union to go out of their way to help me. I have this problem, or rather, a combination of problems … or maybe it's the same problem stated in different ways. I don't like being told what to do, and I don't like authority figures. So I believe in the concept of unions, and am proud to be on the front lines with my union, but I'm usually in trouble with my union because I have a big mouth. (The ultimate Steven in the Union story: as a grad student, I once voted against a strike … I don't recall the exact final vote, at the time it felt like 824-1, but I'm sure it was more like 794-31. Anyway, we went on strike, and even though I didn't vote for the strike, once it's on, it's on, and so onto the picket lines I went. The strike was a failure, although it took awhile for us to realize that fact. And so it was that one rainy day, I was the only person patrolling one of the campus entrances. I walked back and forth, drenched, my shitty-ass umbrella doing less than nothing, waving my picket sign in the air and wondering where all of those 794 people were.)

You might have noticed in the Chronicle that there is a labor dispute going on between the California State University system and the faculty members. I have taught in the CSU system on two occasions, although I do not do so at present. I think we're all in the same teachers' union, but to be honest I'm never quite sure how it works. Suffice to say I'm in a teachers' union, so are the teachers in CSU, so I have sympathy for them. But you can't ascribe anything I say here to any of the union members … I'm here only to represent myself, and yes, I know I already said that, but it bears repeating.

For some reason, I am still on the faculty email list for San Francisco State, so I get the usual batch of general info. Awhile back I got an email from the president at SFSU … this email is referenced in the Chronicle article. I didn't write about it at the time, figuring it's not really my business, but since it's out in the public now, and since the article spends substantial time discussing that email, I think I can talk now. But first, another tangent.

The first time I went on strike as a graduate student, Fred Crews was in charge of the English Department. Fred has had a fine, distinguished career … I confess I've been especially impressed with the work he's done since going emeritus, as he has become one of the leading voices in the skeptical movement. But at the time in question, he was just a big shot professor running the department in which I wandered. Crews was a liberal sort of fellow, very collegial, and he was worried about his grad students, who were about to go on strike. He called a meeting of faculty and grad students to see if he could create some kind of coalition or something that might prevent a strike. His intentions were clearly heartfelt. But I don't suppose I'd been more pissed off in my entire graduate career as I was that day, listening to Fred Crews tell us what was best for us. He was trying to be the good father advising his children, and it was condescending beyond belief. At that point, I was a pretty non-descript grad student … I hadn't done anything particularly noteworthy. But in that meeting, I stood up and called Crews on his paternal bullshit. That he turned out to be right, that our strike was ill-advised, was not the point. The point was that when you are in charge of something, and push comes to shove, you don't get to play for both teams. In that dispute, Fred Crews was management, and he was trying to tell labor what to do. Well, fuck that.

And so, the letter from Robert Corrigan, president at San Francisco State University. It pissed me off … pretty amazing, considering I don't even work there anymore. The Chronicle article gets the gist of the letter fairly well. The email was titled "In Your Name," because Corrigan was accusing the union of nefarious deeds in pursuit of their goals. The title itself was an insult: it assumed the rank and file was too stupid to know what was being done "in our name," so the great white father would explain it to us. Corrigan attempted to establish his union credentials … "union card at 14, father a long-term shop steward, grandfather a longshoreman for 50 years" … then, to prove he understood that sometimes labor negotiations got hardcore, admitted that he was once burned in effigy. He also said that he had long ago been advised not to butt into the business of labor … "For better or for worse, Corrigan," he was told, "it is our union and our Senate, so mind your own business!" But he couldn't shut his bloody hole. So he sent the email, which included an "unprecedented request" … "urge your union leadership" … and I can stop there.

Because it doesn't matter what he wanted us to urge, he should have listened to that long-ago advice. It was none of his business. He is the President of a major university. I'm sure he's a fine fellow and a fine administrator, and I'm glad his father was a shop steward. But university presidents don't get to tell union members what to do with their union. You want to be in charge, have at it, but don't try to convince the rest of us that you are our best fucking friend. Because you are not.

And, in case I didn't say this enough, I speak only for myself, and outsider and observer to the current brouhaha.


sittin’, drinkin’, superficially thinkin’

The latest writing assignment I've given my students:

In "The Belief Engine," James Alcock writes, "Critical thinking, logic, reason, science -- these are all terms that apply in one way or another to the deliberate attempt to ferret out truth from the tangle of intuition, distorted perception, and fallible memory. The true critical thinker accepts what few people ever accept -- that one cannot routinely trust perceptions and memories." Alcock also lists several commonly-held beliefs that are disputed by others, including:

Vitamin C can ward off or cure the common cold.
Immigrants are stealing our jobs.
Crime and violence are linked to the breakdown of the traditional family.

Choose one of the above beliefs, or any others listed in the Alcock essay, and write a 1250-word essay using critical thinking to "ferret out the truth" about the issue in question.

While there are no specific required outside sources for this assignment, you must provide support for your argument, including citations for source material. The main thing to avoid is "intuition, distorted perception, and fallible memory."


has there ever been a less appropriate last name than “jobs”?

More on Steve Jobs' misinformed rant against teachers unions. The technology blog at SF Gate has a post, "Steve Jobs angers teachers," that includes the following excerpt from a response by the California Federation of Teachers:

In the years before the iPod saved Apple from extinction, its computer advertising exhumed dead geniuses for its "think different" campaign. Black and white photos, each featuring an instantly recognizable off-center hero, carried the message that if you bought a Mac, you'd be a brilliant hipster, too.

Luckily for Apple, no one could ask the deceased what they thought about that. One of this ad campaign's most enduring images was of Chicano civil rights icon Cesar Chavez, arm draped over a hoe. Farm worker union organizers had so often failed to crack the power of the state's agribusiness elite it was common wisdom that it couldn't be done. Chavez's historic achievement was to build the first farm worker union that lasted.

The ad, of course, doesn't endorse unions. It simply appropriates the image of a Chicano hero in a state with a growing Chicano population and, presumably, potential market for Apple products. Indeed, in the 1990s Steve Jobs and Apple notoriously resisted granting union recognition to its largely Latino, low paid, contracted out Silicon Valley janitorial workforce until the Justice for Janitors union campaign embarrassed the corporation sufficiently to bring Jobs and his company around.

I looked forward to reading the comments attached to the post, naively assuming Jobs would take it on the chin from enlightened readers. Boy, was I wrong. "Klingon" wrote:

Talk about revenge of the nerds. Education majors were/are universally regarded as the dumbest of undergrads/graduate students and for good reason. They have yet to realize that unionization is antithecal [sic] to professionalism. Merit, not longevity, should be the yardstick. That plus the eduNazis constantly holding children hostage for their monetary demands is despicable….

And "mmms":

Jobs merely said what everyone knows. The educational system went to the dogs a long time ago.

I posted my own comments:

I've been teaching since 1987, and have been a member of teachers unions for all of those twenty years. I am not dumb, despite what Klingon might think ... in fact, I have a PhD from Cal that I like to think I earned. I also have won teaching awards. I am proud to be in my union, which among other things provides protection against the attempts of some to apply misguided notions of "merit" as an excuse to get rid of teachers they don't like. No one likes bad teachers, but defining "bad" is far more complicated than the above commenters seem to realize. Is a teacher "bad" because he or she assigns an R-rated movie? Are they "bad" because they assign any movies at all? How about teachers who try to teach critical thinking skills to students whose parents believe critical thinking begins and ends with whatever their particular religious text tells them is right? Who do you think has the back of teachers at times like this? It sure isn't Steve Jobs.

As for holding our students hostage over "monetary demands," teachers are well aware of the negative impact labor conflicts can have on the students, and do not take actions frivolously. Klingon makes it sound, though, as if well-to-do teachers are trying to expand on their upper-middle-class existence at the expense of poor students. In twenty years, the most I have made in a single year is $40,000, and that was once ... in almost every other year, I made less than half of that. I spent ten years as a steelworker, and I made more in each of those ten years than I made in 19 of my 20 years as a teacher (which isn't to say I got rich in the factory, but just points out that teachers are woefully underpaid).

Hard-working teachers ... and there are a lot of them ... know better than anybody how pitiful the educational system is today. Teachers are working in the trenches, and are part of the solution, not the problem. If Steve Jobs or anyone else wants to point fingers at the culprits who are bringing our educational system down, they need to look somewhere besides teachers.


ok, one more and I’m done for now

Here's how you can turn a standard Word doc into a blog post without much effort. The following is the contract I have my students sign before the semester begins. It's a Word doc that I print out, but here, I loaded it into Word, and then chose to Publish it as a blog post, which took me directly to the blog template, with all of the ribbon choices I described in the earlier post. What follows is that Word doc, translated into a blog post with no added effort from me:

 

To be successful in an online course, students must participate regularly throughout the semester. While an online course can be very convenient, students need to be sure they do not forget about their courses. This may seem silly, but when students do not have to show up for a class regularly on a particular day at a particular time, they can sometimes forget they have work to do.

Therefore, all students must agree to:

  • Check email at least three times a week
  • Read assignments thoroughly and on time
  • Visit the Bulletin Board regularly (several times a week)
  • Check due dates and submit work on time
  • Post thought-provoking questions which initiate critical thinking
  • Post regular, on time responses to the Bulletin Board with thoughtful commentary
  • Participate faithfully in the peer editing process, providing a solid essay to partners to review and providing thoughtful feedback to them, all in a timely fashion
  • Email instructor or classmates with questions about the course

A copy of this document, signed or approved via an email, must be submitted to your professor, with your acknowledgement of the following:

I understand that my failure to faithfully complete the above tasks can result in a lower grade or being dropped from this course. I am prepared to give this course my best effort.

 

 

Name ______________________________________

 

Date ______________________________________


speaking of darwin

And Jesus, for that matter. Here is the first essay assignment I’ve given my class this semester:

In Chapter One of A Rulebook for Arguments, Weston quotes Bertrand Russell as follows:
The evils of the world are due to moral defects quite as much as to lack of intelligence. But the human race has not hitherto discovered any method of eradicating moral defects.... Intelligence, on the contrary, is easily improved by methods known to every competent educator. Therefore, until some method of teaching virtue has been discovered, progress will have to be sought by improvement of intelligence rather than of morals.
Write a 1000-word essay analyzing Russell's argument. You can agree with Russell, disagree with him, or take a position somewhere in the middle, but you must take a position. In your essay, consider these questions or others that you believe are relevant: Is Russell correct about the causes of evil? Is it true that we have no methods of "eradicating moral defects"? Does his conclusion follow from his claims, and is his conclusion on target? (These questions are intended as guides, not as mandatory items.)