Author: Jana

  • I have never felt the need..

    12066103805_e7bd078edcPhoto taken in Tongeren, Belgium.

     

    Loved this thought, on being satisfied with this world, and not needing an afterlife (or a God)…

    You see, I have never felt the need to invent a world beyond this world, for this world has always seemed large and beautiful enough for me.  I have wondered why it is not large and beautiful enough for others–why they must dream up new and marvelous spheres, or long to live elsewhere, beyond this dominion…but that is not my business.  We are all different, I suppose.  All I ever wanted to know was this world.  I can say now, as I reach my end, that I know quite a bit more of it than when I arrived.  Moreover, my little bit of knowledge has been added to all the other accumulated knowledge of history–added to the great library, as it were.  That is no small feat, sir.  Anyone who can say such a thing has lived a fortunate life.

    ~Alma Whittaker in _The Signature of All Things_

  • Having students write an NEH grant proposal as a course assignment

    In teaching my “Intro to DH” class last semester to Chapman’s MA/MFA graduate students, I spent a lot of time discussing professionalization and a significant part of that discussion focused on how funding agencies (like the NEH-ODH) make DH projects do-able.  As the culmination of this conversation, for the final project in the course I had the students compose mock applications for an NEH-ODH startup grant.

    I designed the course in this manner for three primary reasons:

    1) The first time I had to write a grant proposal for external funding, I found it incredibly daunting to describe what I aimed to do with my project when I wasn’t even yet sure myself what I would find once the project got underway.  Doing the legwork and the guesswork involved in that process  and then writing coherently about it, was much more difficult than I expected.  Thus, I felt that it would be a great learning experience for the students to do this before they had actual money at stake.

    2) Crafting a mock NEH-ODH application reinforced many of the concepts that we’d discussed in class, and brought them together in such a way that it showed me that the students understood the filed of DH better than if they’d simply written a traditional end-of-the-semester paper.  In their proposal they had to discuss other similar projects, outline their technical requirements, include descriptions of team members’ skills, craft a budget, and create a plan for the sustainability of their project.  From their proposals I had a strong sense of what they’d learned throughout the semester since when the class started the students had only the foggiest notion of what a DH project entailed.

    3) Writing a grant application is a portable skill that could serve the students in a wide-variety of ways after they graduate, even if they don’t continue in academia.  Learning to communicate their research ideas to a general audience could serve them in many ways, including a future in technical writing, project management, journalism, or in a non-profit job.

    The success of the students in their proposals far exceeded my expectations.  As each student gave a lightning talk description of what they aimed to do, I realized that nearly every one of them was worthy of funding.  And not only that, since December several of the students have moved forward with their projects on their own (sans funding), based on the proposals that they outlined in our class.

    At the end of the semester I tweeted about our project and caught the attention of Brett Bobley (the CIO of the NEH and the director of the ODH).  That exchange:

    Screen shot 2014-02-10 at 2.57.04 PM

  • on my nightstand…

    This week’s books-in-progress (click on the book covers to connect to the titles on amazon):

    Highly recommended for those of us who are struggling to keep writing academic articles amidst our other busy-nesses.

    Enjoying this historical-fiction book immensely. It’s got a bit of everything that I love: ocean explorers, early America, science, feminism, and engaging characters. Nothing like that other book that Gilbert is so famous for writing.

    And speaking of Elizabeth Gilbert, here she is again on my nightstand. I haven’t yet started this one, but I aim to later this week.

    I’m skimming this one as part of my resolution to worry less about money. I’d prefer to enjoy money rather than fret about it obsessively.

  • on NOT getting things done…

    on NOT getting things done…

    I’m a sucker for productivity tips, and was just reading yet-another article in this vein, when it hit me: almost all of my “resolves” for 2014 are really about decreasing my productivity.

    I want to:

    -sleep more

    -cook most of my meals at home

    -plant a bigger veggie garden

    -fret less about money

    -read more books

    -take long walks

    -write for pleasure

    -own less stuff

    -do yoga, daily

    -go camping, monthly

    -be a better friend/neighbor/colleague/family member

    -live closer to where I work

  • This week, on my nightstand

    What I’m reading right now*:

    I loved the Yiddish Policeman’s Union, so I picked this one up a few months ago.  But I’ve not found it nearly as engaging as I’d hoped–I’m having to push my way pretty hard through to the end.  The characters of this one just aren’t grabbing me and keeping me interested.

     

    Jared Farmer’s recent SoCal lecture about Trees was one of the best that I’ve heard in a long time.  I’ve been dipping in and out of his book and find it to be one of the best-written history books that I’ve encountered this year.  And, the landscape around the OC looks so different to me after reading Jared’s tome.

     

    My officemate recommended this book to me after she learned of my interest in western history.  It’s about the Indian Wars, which is an era of history that’s not easy to digest.  The writing is accessible (i.e. not for a historian-audience) and breezy.  If you enjoy western history, I’d recommend that you add this one to your nightstand.

     

    And then there’s Tom Zoellner’s latest, Train.  I haven’t started it yet, because I’ve got to finish a few of these others first.  But I can’t wait!

     

    *Click on the book images to visit the amazon pages for these books.

  • getting things done…

    This past weekend was my first one home in SoCal since the holidays.  It felt so good to be able to attack the long list of “to-do”s that were waiting for me, that I kept at it all weekend.  Among those was tidying my closet (and making rainbows of my scarves & sweaters):

    12201268716_f070d8872b_n 12201264526_377d457143

    I planted a few seeds in the garden, enjoyed a long outrigger paddle out on the ocean with my team, spent quality time with Catgirl, ran errands, and had plenty of sleep and homecooked meals.  Not to mention the several loads of dirty laundry that are now clean and put away.

    And…I got caught up on all of my snailmail and paperwork, including the many (many) financial forms for the kids’ college funds.  Then, at lunchtime today I filed both my federal and state taxes(!)–the earliest ever.

    Whew.  What a great feeling, to have accomplished so much.

  • What I learned (about outhouses) today…

    As I’ve known for some time, old-timey American privies have a small crescent moon cutout on the door:

    American privyBut Belgian privies (appropriately called a schijthuis) have a heart instead:

    schijthuisjeinhetbosInteresting, eh?

  • time for reflection

    Cape Cod
    Cape Cod

    “We don’t have any time for reflective practice,” explained my brother-in-law, a junior high school science teacher.  He went on to say that he and his colleagues were just barely keeping their heads about water with their teaching loads so they rarely had time to thoughtfully consider changes to their methods or curriculum.

    This was in response to my telling him that I had just finished teaching for the semester and was in the phase of considering what had gone well and what I’d like to change for the next time around, and was amending my syllabus accordingly.  I hadn’t considered before that this was a luxury, to have time for reflection at the end of the term.  But I suppose it is–I only teach one class at a time because the rest of my day is spent on administrative duties.  So that one class garners the lion’s share of my mental attention and I consider each of my successes and frustrations in the classroom fairly closely.

    This was on my mind as I read AHA President Ken Pomeranz’ article “Some Habits of Mind Historians Keep Hidden” in the recent issue of Perspectives.  Like my research practices, most of my teaching practices tend to be “hidden habits” rather than techniques that I discuss often with colleagues or friends.  And I plan to change that, because I’ve had some rather remarkable experiences in the classroom during my time at Chapman, and I’d like to discuss some of what I’ve learned–in the hopes that it will not only be of interest to my readers, but also to help me to improve my own teaching as I reflect on what has worked best for my students’ learning.

  • any way you say it…

    Reading Boone’s post about the pronunciation of his name made me think about how people say my name….

    I was raised as Jana with a hard J.  When I got to high school my friends played a joke on our chem teacher and told him that I was a foreign exchange student from Czechoslovakia and that my name was pronounced “Yawna” (apparently I did not then know enough English to speak for myself).  That nickname stuck and I was Yawna or “Yawna Banana” to my high school friends.  I loved that name and how playful and foreign it sounded to my ears.

    When I went to college I became Jana, hard J, again.  Though I was rarely Jana to my ex (only in the most serious of conversations), I was not Yawna again until a few years ago, when my social circle expanded to include many European friends and colleagues.

    I love being Yawna.  Again.

  • my cyborg form

    This video shows a team of designers rebuilding clothing mannequins to resemble differently-abled bodies.  It’s a moving story, well-worth the few minutes it will take to watch it.

    For me, this video highlighted the oddness that I sometimes feel when techs are building the “cosmesis” of my prosthetic leg–the sculpted form that creates the structure to give my metal innards a symmetrical form.  They trace my organic leg and then shape firm foam into a matching shape, shaving it down a bit here and there to make it look proportional, and then we test it under clothing to ensure that the fabric flows smoothly and doesn’t bunch up around the knee or gather in odd ways at the hip or crotch.  In this process they build me a cosmetic leg with all of the requisite properties of leg-ness, despite it being a completely function-less addition to my body.

    Due to still being in a phase where my new prothesis is being adjusted often (like today, it’s just started making a clanking noise as I walk around corners–time to go back in and figure out what’s going wrong), I’m not wearing any cosmesis at all.  The asymmetry between my legs makes most clothing looks a bit strange, such as when the right pantleg of my wool trousers flaps back and forth in the wind as I walk across campus, or when I am sitting in a meeting and my right knee comes to an obvious narrow point instead of being neatly rounded like my organic leg.

    And while I think my bionic parts are uber-cool looking, at work I rarely wear short skirts or other clothing that shows my metal innards.  Because it’s so much easier to “pass” than to have my body be a spectacle to passersby (or colleagues or students).  I’m not at all embarrassed of being cyborg, but it adds a layer of inconvenience to my interactions that I prefer not to introduce in my professional setting.

    But on the weekends, it’s a different story.  Then I wear short skirts and sandals and enjoy letting my robot hang out there for anyone to see.

    shadow, at the beach
    shadow, at the beach

     

  • just one step at at time…

    When we went out shoe shopping recently, Catgirl and I took a rather odd detour from the parking structure to the shopping plaza.  We went up the stairs and then up and down the wheelchair ramps twice.

    You walk so fast now, she said.

    A few weeks into wearing my new Plie 2.0 robotic leg and I am, indeed, a faster walker than before.  Particularly downhill–the mechanics and control algorithm for this new leg making downhills so smooth (c-legs, on the other hand, are pretty choppy on the downhill).

    In addition to wearing the new knee, I’m also wearing a Fitbit device to mark my number of steps and activity level.  My graph over the past two weeks shows some pretty dramatic changes from where I was several months ago (my daily step average increasing from 3483 to 4819 since August):

    Screen shot 2013-10-25 at 3.06.28 PM

    I’ve noticed only one small glitch with the new knee and that’s that when I have a long stretch of evenly-paced steps, after a few hundred paces it will hiccup a bit and I’ll end up dragging my toe for one step.  I imagine that this is some kind of firmware bug that can be ironed out.  But it’s a small glitch, and certainly livable except that it tends to affect my full trust of the limb (for the few steps after each hiccup I find myself reticent to put my full weight into a step).

    Overall, the new knee technology is even better than I imagined. I still limp and I’m not (yet) running hurdles, but it’s a dramatic improvement over what I had before (yay, technology).

     

     

  • The “ought” of technology

    This post from Cyborgology piggybacked nicely on some thoughts that I’ve had recently about the use of technology by faculty at my university.

    My thoughts arose from an experience with an adjunct faculty member who came to my office for help in building a robo-graded exam on Blackboard.  In working with her for just a few minutes, I realized that she didn’t know what a web browser was or where software like Blackboard “lived” (she thought that because she created the exam on Blackboard on her laptop, that her students would somehow be remotely logging into her laptop when they took their Blackboard exam).  The upshot of this visit to my office was that she left still fairly confused about Blackboard (my outstanding explanation of servers, notwithstanding), but with a functioning exam that was set to deploy for her students to take at the appointed time.

    After pondering my interaction with her for awhile, I began to wonder whether the model of Academic Technology as it works at most universities is flawed.  We automatically give faculty a login to our courseware regardless of whether they’ve attended any trainings, and we provide basic “getting started” tutorials that give faculty just enough click-by-click instructions to begin using it for teaching and assessment within just a few minutes of logging in.  As a result, few have any level of mastery at the technology.  And this approach leads to many problems, which are compounded by the seriousness of administering grades and coursework through a platform that they barely understand and can’t troubleshoot on their own.

    As I thought in this vein, it occurred to me that another (perhaps more effective?) way of providing support for Academic Technology would be to do hand-on trainings of the technology first, and then have faculty who would like to use the technology pass a proficiency exam on that software before they receive a login that would deploy their courseware.  While doing that sounds like a bit of a bureaucratic nightmare (and I can just imagine the resistance to attending the training meetings), at least faculty would have a much better sense of what they’re getting themselves into when they start using an LMS for distributing their course content.  In fact, I would say that faculty “ought” to have to have acquired some level of proficiency with the software before they use it, as quoted from the article above:

    The ought, I argue, is a carefully curated relationship with technology, one in which the social actor has access, know how, and above all, control.

    Because when a technology enters the classroom, it changes teaching and it changes learning.  And instructors ought to be cognizant of this as they’re structuring a learning experience for their students.

    But at the same time, I wonder if we ought to pile one more responsibility on the heads of our stretched-thin faculty.  Perhaps the ought should read something more like this: only faculty who have the inclination and motivation to integrate technology ought to use it in the classroom.  Others ought to continue teaching in the ways that they know best.