I try to tell my students that learning how to communicate your ideas is an important skill. So, communicate in writing by showing your work. I don't care if you show every step, but write enough so that I can tell what you're doing. I also try to have students come up to the board and explain to the class how to do problems, or have them work in small groups and explain to each other.
I was horrible about doing homework in high school. Doing 30 problems on a topic that I already understood or writing out the definitions of words I already knew just seemed dumb. (One teacher would assign us to look up and write the definitions of any words in that night's assigned reading that we didn't know. And then she didn't believe me when I said that I knew all the words.) In ninth grade, my biology teacher called my mother to tell her that about five of my classmates had said, "Hillary explained that to me," when he was going over an assignment with them, but I hadn't handed in that assignment myself (or, really, anything else that semester.)
If this book were made into a movie, what would its soundtrack be? Identify a song you would use and explore how it captures the essence of a specific character, relationship, or story as a whole.
I'm sure you've thought of this already, but if any of the books on the list have been made into movies, maybe you could gently suggest the students avoid using them to answer this one?
I have finally admitted to myself that I have no time these days to maintain a bleached-head lifestyle and am returning my hair to a quasi-natural state. In about 15 minutes, it will be "soft black."
I was so happy when I got to upper-level classes in college and it was finally assumed that we understood the basic stuff, and the homework was a few complicated problems every few weeks, rather than a ton of simple problems a few times a week.
In Fuck Cancer News, my old awesome boss at The Nature Conservancy is stepping down from his job as state director of Washington because his colon cancer has advanced far enough that there is nothing else they can do for him. He's not even 54 years old. Clean living, active, awesome guy and he's not got much time left.
FUCK YOU, CANCER, YOU FUCKING FUCK.
FUCK YOU, CANCER, YOU FUCKING FUCK.
Damn right.
I'm sorry about your former boss, Cashmere.
Fuck cancer.
Amen
Could I have some sleep~ma and no-anxiety~ma, please? I am not having a good week, and the direction my thoughts have been heading lately have been scaring me a little.
{{Anne}} Sleep sweet~ma and calm~ma as much as you need.
Much calm~ma to you, Anne. I hope you have a restful night and a much better day tomorrow.
Anne, may your mind be fully aware of the love so many people have for you, here and elsewhere, leading you to sweeter thoughts and healing dreams, as your body rests and restores itself for the rigors of the coming day. Sleep well.
