Dear Student
One of my current students sent me an email recently, apologizing for having submitted an assignment a few minutes late; I require that assignments be submitted electronically, as I can give feedback much more efficiently that way (and have far fewer calluses on my hands, as a result). In the message, she also shared some things that are going on for her personally -- not making excuses or asking for special treatment, but simply letting me know that her performance currently is not as she'd like it to be.
I responded to her message in a way similar to how I've responded to others like it, and this is what I wrote:
Hi, (insert student's name here) ~
I truly appreciate your note, and please don't worry about the "late" essay. I typically accept submissions on-time when they're just a few minutes late, as I realize technical difficulties happen.
I'm sorry that you are having personal difficulties, and I do hope you are finding the support you need to resolve them. Please know that the Health Center on campus provided psychological support to students when they are overly stressed or in crisis, and if you care to look into that, you can go to this website (insert web address here) or you can call (insert number here).
I realize that sometimes it is difficult to convey, but I really do respect and appreciate each of my students as whole people. I know, (insert student's name here), that you and all other students are much more than your academic performance in my class. Yes, I have high standards for my students because I want you to make the most of your college education, and I feel our field is very important -- I know each and every one of you can make important and powerful differences in the lives of children and families with whom you'll work. But I also realize that you have your own lives, and balancing your personal needs with your academic studies and progression to your degree can be very difficult at times. I was in and out of college for 8 years before earning my BS in Child Development. I changed majors four times, and in many of my classes in community college, I did just the bare minimum required to pass. I was fortunate enough to have some professors during that time that saw my potential, and planted seeds of confidence and passion that sprouted much later. I've tried to let each of them know, but I also realize that much of what happens here, while you're in college, won't be evident to you until much later. And I do not think less of any of my students who don't seem to be "getting it" now. You, though, I can tell, are committed to doing your best each day. Your health and well-being have to be taken into consideration, and I'm completely confident that you're gaining what you're supposed to be gaining from being here. Right now.
Thank you for your note, and I hope today is better ~
Kathie
And I really meant it.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Sunday, April 6, 2014
100 Days Project -- Day 8
Sunday Top 10
My "Top 10 List" of the best things about today...
10. Picking up a beautiful orange flower at the supermarket this morning.
9. There was no alarm to wake us up.
8. Homemade breakfast, courtesy of Bob (pancakes and sausage!).
7. Reading a couple sections of "The New York Times."
6. Peet's coffee from Eddie's Bakery.
5. Taking a long nap in my basket.
4. The scent of BBQ smoke on Bob's shirt as I hugged him this evening. (The shish-kabob from The Meat Market was pretty good, too.)
3. Watching the season premiere of "Game of Thrones" on the HUGE tv I gave Bob for an engagement present.
2. Watching videos of my nieces sent to me by sis-in-law, Cathy (Emma doing over 100 consecutive bounces on the pogo stick Bob and I got her for Christmas, and Alyssa and Abbey hitting softballs that Bill pitched them).
1. Ending the day the same way it started...with Bob.
My "Top 10 List" of the best things about today...
10. Picking up a beautiful orange flower at the supermarket this morning.
9. There was no alarm to wake us up.
8. Homemade breakfast, courtesy of Bob (pancakes and sausage!).
7. Reading a couple sections of "The New York Times."
6. Peet's coffee from Eddie's Bakery.
5. Taking a long nap in my basket.
4. The scent of BBQ smoke on Bob's shirt as I hugged him this evening. (The shish-kabob from The Meat Market was pretty good, too.)
3. Watching the season premiere of "Game of Thrones" on the HUGE tv I gave Bob for an engagement present.
2. Watching videos of my nieces sent to me by sis-in-law, Cathy (Emma doing over 100 consecutive bounces on the pogo stick Bob and I got her for Christmas, and Alyssa and Abbey hitting softballs that Bill pitched them).
1. Ending the day the same way it started...with Bob.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
100 Days Project -- Day 7
Watched this today. So good. The best kind of movie -- funny, both heart-wrenching and -warming, and deeply insightful about the human condition.
My favorite line?
"Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right, then it's not yet the end."
Friday, April 4, 2014
100 Days Project -- Day 6
Friday night. We go out to dinner on Friday nights, and sometimes I see my students when we're out. Tonight, we went to The Yard House, and when we walked in to the very crowded waiting area, there was one of my current students, sitting with her boyfriend, waiting for a table. I immediately knew she was my student...but I couldn't remember her name, and I wasn't sure which of my three classes she's in.
Now, when I see a student out in public, especially if it's a student I don't know very well, I try to let her (most of my students are women) take the lead in making a connection. I figure that the last person some people want to see when they're out trying to have a good time is that professor that makes them do a lot of work. Tonight, though, this student smiled comfortably and enthusiastically when she saw me, so I smiled and returned her greeting. I immediately got embarrassed because I didn't know her name, and it was easy in all the noise and commotion of putting our names on the waiting list to turn away and avoid introducing her to Bob. We went to the bar to get a drink while we waited, and every now and then, I felt bad that I hadn't talked to her more because she was so friendly.
Then we got seated...and, yes, after we'd gotten settled and ordered, I turned, and there she was. Sitting right behind us. It wasn't awkward, though, as it's really loud in there, and she was engaged in conversation with her beau. They finished before we did, and I had my chance to introduce her to Bob as they walked by us to leave. She volunteered her name, very graciously, and it was quite comfortable. Nice. It felt good to have a student recognize me AND seem genuinely comfortable chatting with me for a moment in public.
About 6 or 7 years ago, I had a very different experience running into a student in public. My friend, Denise, and I went to an Aerosmith and Lenny Kravitz concert at The Save Mart Center. Lenny played first, and during the break before Aerosmith came out, we headed out to the lobby area to use the restrooms. As we walked, I spotted one of my current students walking toward us through the crowd. It was only a couple weeks into the new semester, and she was in a lower division GE course I was teaching. And, though I couldn't remember her first name, she stood out to me immediately because I remembered that her last name was Reid. She was the first student I ever had with my last name, same Scottish spelling and all. As usual, though, I nonchalantly looked away, trying to find a happy medium between not-being-rude-but-giving-her-room-to-not-have-to-chat-it-up-with-her-professor at a concert, of all places. When she was about 5 yards away from us, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, looked me straight in the face, and in a drunken slur, body teetering back and forth, pointed and yelled, "Hey! Hey! You're in my class!" Of course, I started laughing, and as she got closer and continued to try to figure out who I was, I finally said, "Well, actually, I'm your professor." She stopped dead again, and as the young man at her side held her steady, she stared deep into my eyes, struggling to focus and figure out who the hell I was. As the realization dawned, her posture weakened a bit, and she just said, "Oh...yah." Her friend, who was clearly quite sober, apologized profusely, explaining that she wasn't usually like that. Of course, I told him not to worry about it while she teetered there, still dazed-and-confused, and we then went our separate ways.
She had a difficult time looking me in the eye the rest of the semester.
So, yah, sometimes I run into my students out in public. And I try to give them some space.
Now, when I see a student out in public, especially if it's a student I don't know very well, I try to let her (most of my students are women) take the lead in making a connection. I figure that the last person some people want to see when they're out trying to have a good time is that professor that makes them do a lot of work. Tonight, though, this student smiled comfortably and enthusiastically when she saw me, so I smiled and returned her greeting. I immediately got embarrassed because I didn't know her name, and it was easy in all the noise and commotion of putting our names on the waiting list to turn away and avoid introducing her to Bob. We went to the bar to get a drink while we waited, and every now and then, I felt bad that I hadn't talked to her more because she was so friendly.
Then we got seated...and, yes, after we'd gotten settled and ordered, I turned, and there she was. Sitting right behind us. It wasn't awkward, though, as it's really loud in there, and she was engaged in conversation with her beau. They finished before we did, and I had my chance to introduce her to Bob as they walked by us to leave. She volunteered her name, very graciously, and it was quite comfortable. Nice. It felt good to have a student recognize me AND seem genuinely comfortable chatting with me for a moment in public.
About 6 or 7 years ago, I had a very different experience running into a student in public. My friend, Denise, and I went to an Aerosmith and Lenny Kravitz concert at The Save Mart Center. Lenny played first, and during the break before Aerosmith came out, we headed out to the lobby area to use the restrooms. As we walked, I spotted one of my current students walking toward us through the crowd. It was only a couple weeks into the new semester, and she was in a lower division GE course I was teaching. And, though I couldn't remember her first name, she stood out to me immediately because I remembered that her last name was Reid. She was the first student I ever had with my last name, same Scottish spelling and all. As usual, though, I nonchalantly looked away, trying to find a happy medium between not-being-rude-but-giving-her-room-to-not-have-to-chat-it-up-with-her-professor at a concert, of all places. When she was about 5 yards away from us, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, looked me straight in the face, and in a drunken slur, body teetering back and forth, pointed and yelled, "Hey! Hey! You're in my class!" Of course, I started laughing, and as she got closer and continued to try to figure out who I was, I finally said, "Well, actually, I'm your professor." She stopped dead again, and as the young man at her side held her steady, she stared deep into my eyes, struggling to focus and figure out who the hell I was. As the realization dawned, her posture weakened a bit, and she just said, "Oh...yah." Her friend, who was clearly quite sober, apologized profusely, explaining that she wasn't usually like that. Of course, I told him not to worry about it while she teetered there, still dazed-and-confused, and we then went our separate ways.
She had a difficult time looking me in the eye the rest of the semester.
So, yah, sometimes I run into my students out in public. And I try to give them some space.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
100 Days Project -- Day 5
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
It's Thursday.
I'm tired.
This'll have to do.
Violets are blue.
It's Thursday.
I'm tired.
This'll have to do.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
100 Days Project - Day 4
Hearts
These hearts are from the place where Bob first told me he loved me.
And these hearts are from the city where he worked Sunday evenings through Saturday evenings for the first year that we dated.
I bought these in the town where I brought Bob for his surprise birthday trip the first year we dated.
I found these in a shop by the beach, just down the way from one of our favorite little breakfast restaurants.
And I got these at a street fair in the little beach town where Bob brought me to celebrate my 45th birthday.
Gotta love hearts.
Gotta love Bob.
These hearts are from the place where Bob first told me he loved me.
And these hearts are from the city where he worked Sunday evenings through Saturday evenings for the first year that we dated.
I bought these in the town where I brought Bob for his surprise birthday trip the first year we dated.
I found these in a shop by the beach, just down the way from one of our favorite little breakfast restaurants.
And I got these at a street fair in the little beach town where Bob brought me to celebrate my 45th birthday.
Gotta love hearts.
Gotta love Bob.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
100 Days Project - Day 3
The Lisa Project
The statistics are staggering. In 2013, there were more than 2,100 substantiated reports of child abuse in Fresno County. That is an average of 6 substantiated cases every day.
That is an astounding number. But it becomes much more real, and much more meaningful, when you hear the true stories of these children, as they would tell them.
Michelle and I went to the opening of "The Lisa Project" this evening. This is a multi-media interactive exhibit on child abuse that First 5 of Fresno County, along with 11 community partners, has brought to Fresno for the month of April. The narrator of the self-guided audio tour is Lisa, and she begins by sharing a real 911 call she made at the age of 6 when her stepfather was severely beating her mom and her two younger siblings. She pauses in the telling of her own story, though, to let other children -- each in a separate room throughout the exhibit -- tell their personal stories. Children from toddlers to teens, living in poverty and in plenty, suffering physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at the hands of the people who are supposed to keep them safe.
The stories are pretty hard to hear, and are made more real by the children's voices and the artifacts of their lives. A filthy kitchen where a child sleeps in the corner. A bathroom where a sheer shower curtain is all that separates an adolescent girl from her predator father.
As powerful as all of it was, I found I was most moved in the very last room when Lisa concluded her story. At the end of all of these very dark rooms and heart-wrenching stories, her real story gives the visitor hope. And motivation to help prevent child abuse.
April is Child Abuse Prevention Month, and if you have a chance to go to The Lisa Project, you'll realize just how important our voices are.
The statistics are staggering. In 2013, there were more than 2,100 substantiated reports of child abuse in Fresno County. That is an average of 6 substantiated cases every day.
That is an astounding number. But it becomes much more real, and much more meaningful, when you hear the true stories of these children, as they would tell them.
Michelle and I went to the opening of "The Lisa Project" this evening. This is a multi-media interactive exhibit on child abuse that First 5 of Fresno County, along with 11 community partners, has brought to Fresno for the month of April. The narrator of the self-guided audio tour is Lisa, and she begins by sharing a real 911 call she made at the age of 6 when her stepfather was severely beating her mom and her two younger siblings. She pauses in the telling of her own story, though, to let other children -- each in a separate room throughout the exhibit -- tell their personal stories. Children from toddlers to teens, living in poverty and in plenty, suffering physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at the hands of the people who are supposed to keep them safe.
The stories are pretty hard to hear, and are made more real by the children's voices and the artifacts of their lives. A filthy kitchen where a child sleeps in the corner. A bathroom where a sheer shower curtain is all that separates an adolescent girl from her predator father.
As powerful as all of it was, I found I was most moved in the very last room when Lisa concluded her story. At the end of all of these very dark rooms and heart-wrenching stories, her real story gives the visitor hope. And motivation to help prevent child abuse.
April is Child Abuse Prevention Month, and if you have a chance to go to The Lisa Project, you'll realize just how important our voices are.
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