Monday, March 18, 2024

Looking Ahead to Fall Seminary Classes

When we get to reading week, I start to check to see if the schedule of classes for the following term has been released yet.  Even in the week or two before reading week, I check, although I know that the schedule isn't likely to be released.  Yesterday, I checked to see if the Fall schedule was there, even though it was Sunday.  There it was.

I must have missed the late afternoon posting of the schedule, because when I checked late Friday morning, it wasn't there.  I can't actually register for classes until March 25, so I haven't lost out.  More exciting, there are plenty of classes that will work for me.

In the past year, I haven't had as many classes that I could take.  That's partly a function of having been in the MDiv program for awhile:  a lot of the courses offered are ones I've already taken.  But I've also felt a bit fretful as I've seen fewer classes that are offered for students who have to take classes from a distance.

This fall, I'll be taking a variety of classes:  one is completely online, one meets by way of Zoom Mondays from 6:30 to 9:30, and two meet in person on campus for one week, October 14-18, with the rest of the work online.

If I take one more class, I could be done with the MDiv by December.  But do I want to do that?  Hmm.  One of my favorite professors is teaching a class on the Gospel of Mark, so it's tempting.  That class meets by way of Zoom once a month, and the rest is online.  It could be doable.

You may be saying, "Wait, aren't you about to start a full-time job in the Fall?"  Yes.  Could I handle a heavy teaching load and a heavy seminary class load at the same time?  Yes.  

I will take the four classes regardless, unless something changes radically.  It gets my requirements done, and the classes that I need for the certificate in Theology and the Arts done.  I want to take the classes while they are offered and in a format that works for me.  I can't be sure that it will happen term after term.  Let me seize this opportunity while it's here!

Sunday, March 17, 2024

The Seeds of Saint Patrick's Day

I have never done much celebrating of St. Patrick's Day. I don't drink green beer, and if someone else served me corned beef, I'd eat it, but I don't love it enough to make it for my own homestead. Occasionally I make Irish soda bread, and I wonder why it isn't tastier. I've made a cake with Guinness beer occasionally, and here, too, I wonder why it isn't more delicious. I'm not braving the crowds to go to an Irish pub--I like my pubs deserted.

I may spend some time contemplating Celtic aspects of Christianity, but I might do that any day, whether it's a day that celebrates the life of a famous Irish saint or not.

I am intrigued by the crowds of people who have no connection to Ireland or Christianity or any of the reasons we celebrate today. But I'm not critical. I believe in injecting festivity into daily life in whatever way we can.

Today I will go to church, people may wear green. That's fine.  I am preaching a sermon that thinks about Saint Patrick, the Oscars, the U.S. presidential race, and today's Lectionary text: John 12:  20-33, a text about seeds and the necessity to die so that we may live again.  Many would preach this text as an eternal life text, but I'm encouraging us to look at our current lives.  What bulbs do we need to be planting?  Where are we stuck in the mud of life?

Saint Patrick, before he was a saint, surely felt stuck in the mud, sent to a distant outpost to help solidify Christianity in Ireland in the 500's, when Ireland was a wild and wooly place, when the empire of Rome was in a state of slow collapse.  Yet he used his gifts to transform the community of faith--and one of those gifts was the 6-7 years he spent as a teen enslaved in Ireland before he escaped.

Here's how today's sermon ends:

Our sprouting and blooming will almost surely not look like the success that our larger culture has trained us to value. We’re not likely to win an Oscar or to be a presidential nominee. Even though I’d vote for just about any of you, our system isn’t set up that way. But the life of Saint Patrick reminds us to be of good cheer. Even if we feel like we’re stranded in a distant outpost, we are making a difference just by living our lives in an authentic way, the way that God calls us to live. Even if we feel like we’re stuck in the mud, in truth, we are bulbs in the process of transformation to blooms.

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Pioneers Planning Composition Classes

Today I am feeling a bit frazzled.  It's a combination of things:  a jam-packed week, a realization that seminary writing is due at noon today not 5 p.m. like I originally thought, feeling annoyed that I've spent more of my adult life in houses that are under construction than finished, having trouble finding the book I needed in the stack of books that got displaced because of the drywall project, a sermon that I still need to construct.

Let me collect some snippets here.  Let me look for gratitude inspiring nuggets to preserve.

--I have realized that I'm at a school, Spartanburg Methodist College, where I can be more creative.  Before I had that realization, I crafted fairly safe syllabi:  write an evaluation essay, write an argumentative essay, write a research paper.  But my colleagues are doing very cool things in their classrooms, like having students create chain mail (I think it's for a Medieval Lit class, but I'm not sure) or virtual commonplace books in the style of Shakespeare (see this article for more information).

--I am going to spend the summer thinking of ways to be more creative in my classrooms, to have students be more creative.  I'm not teaching Creative Writing, but there's lots I can do in English 101 (English Composition) and English 100 (the pre-college writing class).  

--I have this vision of something that might feel like more of a Return to the Pioneer Life class.  They could knot some quilts that I'd bring in.  We could churn butter (in the pour cream in a jar and shake it kind of way).  Hmmm.  I've been wanting to revisit the Little House books.  Hmm.

--The Laura Ingalls Wilder Historic Home and Museum does have Wilder days Sept. 27 and 28 and a Children's Literature Festival November 7 and 8.  Hmm.  

--I also want to know more about Spartanburg.  It would be cool if there was something similar nearby.

--My students are the Spartanburg Pioneers.  Hmmm.  Yes, that's the mascot.  Maybe we could have a Pioneer Days festival at school.  Maybe everyone would like to knot quilts for Lutheran World Relief.  I hesitate to suggest such a thing for fear I would end up being the one to plan it.

--One of my colleagues is having a Medieval Matters day at campus today.  It's both a festival and a conference, with students presenting papers and research.  She has students coming in from multiple states and schools.  It sounds really cool.  I am so happy to be in a place that has this kind of person pulling together this kind of event.

--Let me hasten to add that almost every school I've been at has had similar opportunities.  Most of us who are drawn to teaching want to have these kinds of cool things for students, and I've been lucky to be places where it's been encouraged.

--I have been talking about how I wish I could have another week off because this past week, while wonderful, has left me wrung out.  Then I realized that this week is Quilt Camp!  It's not a complete week off, but it will rejuvenate me.  And unlike past years, I don't have to drive 12 hours to get to Quilt Camp.


Friday, March 15, 2024

In Which I Accept a One Year Teaching Lectureship

So, now I can be more straight forward than I was yesterday, with my discussion of "dressy" shoes.  This week, I interviewed for a one year full-time teaching lectureship at Spartanburg Methodist College, hence the need for "dressy" shoes (which, again, I stress that most people wouldn't see them as "dressy"--they are flat and black and boring).  Yesterday, they offered me the position, and I said  yes.

Let me say at the outset, I'm still going to be taking seminary classes, so having this job doesn't change that.  If the Faith Lutheran folks want me to continue past June (when the contract extension ends) as their very part-time minister, a full-time teaching job doesn't get in the way of that.

The college had advertised several positions; I originally applied for the tenure track position, which had this language:  

"A PhD in Rhetoric and Composition or related discipline. (ABD with identified completion date will also be considered). We are especially interested in candidates with areas of specialization in professional writing; technical communication; digital and social media studies; visual rhetorics; business, grant, and non-profit writing; or editing and publishing. Additional experience with creative writing and/or journalism is welcome."

I thought that I might fit--I don't have course work in digital and social media studies, but I've been doing writing for digital spaces and social media.  I've taught business and technical writing.  I've done editing and publishing and professional writing of all kinds.  I thought it was worth applying, particularly since I've had success there as an adjunct.

A few weeks ago, I heard from a woman on the search committee, who also happens to be the woman who hired me to be an adjunct.  She said they had decided on a different candidate for the tenure track position, but she asked me to consider applying for the one year lectureship, which is a 5/5 course load (the tenure track position is a 4/4 load).  After asking some questions, I said that I would like to have my materials given to the search committee.

A week before Spring Break, I was told that the committee would be interviewing me, and this week was the week.  On Tuesday, the search committee came to see me teach, and on Wednesday, I had an interview with the Provost (the chief academic officer on the campus), followed by an interview with the search committee.  There was a meet and greet that was open to the whole faculty, and then the search committee took me to lunch.

On Wednesday as I drove home, I thought that the day couldn't have gone much better.  I've had interviews where later I thought, I wish I had answered that question differently.  But on the whole, I don't think that Tuesday or Wednesday could have gone much better.

Yesterday I returned to campus to teach.  When I was in my office, eating my lunch of Greek lentils and barley, the Provost came by.  He offered me the one year lectureship, and I accepted.  It will be all English 100 and 101 classes for fall, which is fine with me.  I'm not creating new courses, which makes it easier to stay on track with my seminary progress.  I've often said that if I had gotten a PhD in Political Science instead of English, I'd have spent lots of time recently rewriting a lot of my curriculum, but the English Composition basics haven't really changed radically during my lifetime.

When I applied for the tenure track position, I didn't know that the school was beginning a BA in Professional Writing and Digital Communications--that announcement came later.  I am guessing that the tenure track person will be doing a lot to support that program:  curriculum creating now, helping students with job searches later.  In many ways, the one year lectureship works better for me.

What happens after a year?  The lectureship might be extended, or it might not.  It might turn into a tenure track position, which might mean that other people could apply.  In a year, I might be finished with my MDiv degree, and I might have all sorts of options--or I might not.

It's good to have a year of stable income, a year when I have a sense of what I'll be teaching well in advance of when the classes start.  It's good to have a chance to be working with these colleagues who have been wonderful so far--an important reason why the tenure track position interested me.

I won't lie--it's also nice to be chosen.  I've worked in places where it's clear that adjuncts rarely get the full-time jobs.  I'm glad that it worked out differently this time.


Thursday, March 14, 2024

Our Best Selves

It has been a week of disrupted schedules, with more Zoom calls than usual, more trips to Spartanburg than usual, a morning of uncomfortable "dressy" shoes (even my dress shoes are flats, which would be seen as more frumpy than dressy by many people), a week of midterm projects due, and a fish fry on Friday.  I am weary, and it's only Thursday.  I am weary because the week-end only provides a smidge of down time.

But it is a good kind of weariness, the kind that comes from extra opportunities to catch up with friends, the kind of weariness that comes from the opportunity to get to know colleagues better.

On Tuesday morning, I had a classroom teaching observation, which in some ways, should be no big deal by now.  But it's always a bit unnerving.  Happily, the class went well.  The observation team expressed delighted amazement by how engaged the class was:  "When you had them write, everyone was actually writing."  And I had an idea that I wasn't sure would work, but it did, and the team liked that too; I had students make lists, and then I had them go to one of the 3 white boards and write 1-3 ideas on the white board.  It fostered participation, and we could discuss the ideas as a whole, without singling anyone out or putting anyone on the spot, in either a positive way or a negative way.

Because Tuesday was an observation day, I was in high energy mode for the morning class, which meant I was a bit depleted for my afternoon classes.  I always feel a bit guilty, like I'm shortchanging my students.  But when I think over the history of my teaching, I realize that I'm always feeling guilty about how much more I could be doing, yet my students remember my better days.  I just heard from one of them a few weeks ago who said, "I have never learned and achieved so much knowledge in a class than in a class taught by you!"

Yesterday was a morning in "dressy" shoes, talking about teaching strategies, teaching histories, approaches to life and education.  I’ve been trying to remember the final question I was asked. It was something along the lines of “Describe good teaching.” I said that the purpose of teaching was more than just delivering subject matter, but the real purpose of teaching was to make students know that they are more than their worst day, to remind them again and again that they are better than what advertisers want them to believe, what politicians want them to believe about themselves, so that they’ll buy more, or vote for candidates. The best teaching reminds students of their better selves and what could be.

I felt myself choking up a bit, with tears coming to my eyes, and in my head, I reminded myself that I was not in a preaching moment, and I dialed it down a smidge. I said, “Now subject matter is important, don’t get me wrong. But subject matter can come along for the ride as we turn students into the best versions of themselves.”

So, all day yesterday, and in my teaching in my Tuesday class, people saw me as one of my best selves, the teaching first year students best self.  It's interesting to think about how my best teacher self intersects with my best preaching self and how those selves interact with my best creative self.  Are there other selves at play?  I would think about this further, but time is short.

Now it's time to get cleaned up, to head down the mountain to teach.  I feel like the teaching portion of my week should be over, but it is not.  At least today I can do it in more comfortable shoes!

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

More on Infographics

I don't have much writing time this morning.  I need to leave even earlier than usual for a morning of meetings in Spartanburg.  Let me return to the idea of infographics, which I first wrote about in this blog post.  Now that my baptism infographic has been graded, I can share it:



As I was looking at my pictures, I came across the black and white version, which I took in case I messed up the infographic when I added color.  I wouldn't have had a way to undo the color, but I could have turned in the black and white version.  Happily, I liked the color version better.



I still find this concept of an infographic intriguing.  I'm still looking for ways to incorporate it into my writing classes.  Of course, this is the time of year when I find myself yearning for a different way to do the research paper.  Or wishing that I didn't have to do a research paper at all.  

Let me record this here:  as much as I'm enjoying teaching, I do find myself yearning to do more creative things in class and not having to do some of the traditional stuff, like the research essay.  I find myself wishing I could teach less English writing classes and more creativity class.  Not so much creative writing, but a class exploring creativity.

Maybe I just want to play with art supplies.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Pre-Dawn Cooking

My spouse said that our kitchen smelled earthy this morning, and he thought it was the rice pudding that I had in the oven.  I think it's the small pot of lentils and barley that I also had cooking.  I think of the spices that we dumped when we moved, and then once we got settled, trying to replace them all.  And now, some of them are old again.

You might wonder why I'm making rice pudding in the pre-dawn hours.  I was making the lentils and barley for lunch and remembered that we had some leftover rice.  Did I want to use that instead of the barley?  I decided that we still had enough rice for rice pudding, so I went that route, making it while I still had milk in the fridge.

Yesterday was very strange, speaking of milk.  The store had 2% and full fat milk, no 1% or skim.  These days, I'm not picky as long as the pull date is much further out than a few days away.  We don't consume milk like we once did.

In some ways, no one consumes like we once did.  I read an article that talks about how restaurants that have pivoted to carry out food are doing very well, while sit down dining has yet to return to pre-pandemic levels.  Seeing the empty racks where milk once was reminded me of those early days of the pandemic, where many items weren't restocked for weeks.  When I think back to what we were about to go through four years ago.

My experience was so different from most people.  I still went in to an office.  I was still out and about in the world, even as I was seeing fewer people.  I wonder if I'll ever get to a point where mid-March approaches, and I don't think back to 2020.

Today is a getting back on track day, teaching classes with students returning from Spring Break.  I'm also being observed teaching one of those classes.  It should be fine, but I'll be glad when it's done.  They are not a talkative group, but I have a variety of activities planned.

Hopefully, once I get through the next few days of interviews, midterm projects, grading, new online classes that I start teaching--hopefully I'll return to more sustained writing and a poem or two.

Getting back into a seminary rhythm is less hard, since I worked on projects over the break.  There is the worry that I'm forgetting something.  But that's my constant worry.  Whether it's stocking supplies or tending to duties or being on the lookout for the apocalypse, I do worry that I'm forgetting something.