Today, I called George to talk to him about a banking decision I was considering (yes, I'm 24 years old and still consult my father about all financial matters). Before we got to that part of the conversation, however, his reply to my hello was "Becky? Becky Wxxxxx? Or Becky Pxxxxx?" to which I responses "Becky Wxxxxx-Pxxxxx." Thus ensued an interesting conversation about my future married name that went something like this:
"Are you going to be hyphenated?"
"Yeah, I think I am."
"But maybe you could just drop Marie and make Wxxxxx your middle name."
"I offered that option to Andy if he also made Wxxxxx his middle name."
(Slightly confused silence). "Maybe you could just give in and take Pxxxxx."
"Would you have given up your name when you got married?"
"Well, as a male, I wasn't asked to, so I can't really say. And I can't answer as a female, that wouldn't be fair. I don't really know. What about your children?"
"They'll just be Pxxxxxs."
"But do you really want to have a different last name as them?"
"Well, I considered doing the two last names, no hyphen thing (Becky Wxxxxx Pxxxxx), but I figured that would be too confusing. And I feel like hyphenating identifies me with my children more than just keeping my own name would."
"Actually, the two last names might be a good decision. That way, as you become more acclimated to Pxxxxx, you can just phase out Wxxxxx."
"Or I could keep both my names."
"Well, you might decide in a couple years to just go with Pxxxxx. But you could always do another name change if you do make that decision."
"Well, see, George, I didn't feel so strongly about my name until everyone called me that for two years. I mean, I was Ms. Wxxxxx every day at school for a long time."
"So it's kind of an identity thing?"
"I guess. And also, I know some people don't care much for their family or had a bad childhood, but I like my family alright. I don't really want to get rid of Wxxxxx."
"Well, that's good...Do you think there's some sense of irony that the name you're trying so hard to maintain comes from a relatively stubborn line of people?" (This thought really tickles George, and he is absolutely belly laughing)
"I'm sure Lois would agree."
It was a very interesting conversation, and there were many times when I felt like Dad was just totally missing my point. However, I respect the fact that 1) He didn't try to pretend he would know what he would have done had he been the female in his own marriage situation and 2) Despite the fact that I know he thinks it's silly for me to hyphenate or keep my own name, he's still being supportive of it.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Octopus watches
I found this really amazing piece of jewelry this summer, and purchased it in a very spur of the moment way, which is highly unlike me. But it's so unique and cool, and I've gotten a ton of comments upon it today, including one from a guy at swing dancing who was genuinely a little bit disturbed by it, I think. Although it is possible that he could have been disturbed by the fact that he was about to attempt a dip move with a woman several inches taller than him (that would be me) of no tiny stature.
I've been realizing that I have been very bad about taking time for myself this year. I get very caught up in schoolwork (especially now that I'm without a roommate to distract me -- I do dislike living alone), and partly because I'm trying to be a beast about "banking hours" at work so that I can take time off for Thanksgiving and leaving for Christmas, etc. But that me time is really important for balance, and so tonight, I'm watching a movie, and this weekend, I'm going to find a nice trail and go hiking.
I wish I had Dad's old manual camera here, but it was one of the (few) things I decided I didn't need at William and Mary. But if I had it, I'd take it with me and have a little photo shoot. Alas, I'll have to enjoy the scenery the old fashion way with my eyes.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Elusive Half-Size
I have big feet. Not ungodly large or anything, but I wear a good solid 10.5 in most shoes.
That's the problem. See, shoe manufacturers, generally, make sizes from 5.5-10, then skip to 11. I realize that this is probably an economic thing -- as you get to the extremes in size, less people wear them. Right, ok, that logically makes sense, but I'd love to get a shoe manufacturer, grab him by the collar and shake him, and say You try walking around in too-big shoes all the time. It seems so unfair.
Now, usually, I just stick with the 11s. Now and again, I'll find a shoe that runs big or small and a pair will actually fit. Or, in the case of Chuck Taylors (God bless them), they make half sizes that large because their shoes are unisex, and my size wouldn't be considered an extreme for men. For that reason, I have also been known to purchase a pair of mens shoes on the rare occasion.
I'm pretty easy going. It makes me angry, but I can usually deal with the problem.
Until now. I'm trying to find wedding shoes.
I refuse to wear ill-fitting shoes for my wedding. I want cuteness and comfort. I'm having a heck of a time achieving that. It's maddening. When I do find a pair of 10.5 shoes, they are ugly. I'm not going to wear orthopedic shoes to my wedding!
Maybe I'll just track down a shoe manufacturer to shake.
That's the problem. See, shoe manufacturers, generally, make sizes from 5.5-10, then skip to 11. I realize that this is probably an economic thing -- as you get to the extremes in size, less people wear them. Right, ok, that logically makes sense, but I'd love to get a shoe manufacturer, grab him by the collar and shake him, and say You try walking around in too-big shoes all the time. It seems so unfair.
Now, usually, I just stick with the 11s. Now and again, I'll find a shoe that runs big or small and a pair will actually fit. Or, in the case of Chuck Taylors (God bless them), they make half sizes that large because their shoes are unisex, and my size wouldn't be considered an extreme for men. For that reason, I have also been known to purchase a pair of mens shoes on the rare occasion.
I'm pretty easy going. It makes me angry, but I can usually deal with the problem.
Until now. I'm trying to find wedding shoes.
I refuse to wear ill-fitting shoes for my wedding. I want cuteness and comfort. I'm having a heck of a time achieving that. It's maddening. When I do find a pair of 10.5 shoes, they are ugly. I'm not going to wear orthopedic shoes to my wedding!
Maybe I'll just track down a shoe manufacturer to shake.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Discernment
My roommate just told me that she's thinking about switching out of law school and into another graduate program, perhaps in policy, American studies, or educational administration. I had been getting the sense that she was really stressed out here, and was wondering just tonight if she really liked law school, so I'm really happy that she's looking into other things and working to find the best fit for her. The process of discernment is so wonderful -- I love looking into new things, trying things out, and I'm so happy for people when they find something they really want to do.
A few people quit Teach For America after our first year. TFA treats such people in a very weird way -- they immediately take their picture off the TFA bulletin board in the office, and the whole thing becomes very hush hush in the "Name that is no longer spoken" kind of way. But I have so much respect for people who are able to look at a situation, especially part-way through, and say, "Nope, this isn't for me. I thought it was. I thought wrong. Time to try again." Not that perpetual searching is necessarily profitable or even fiscally feasible, but I do believe that there is a right time and mission and path for everyone, and it's not always what you think it's going to be.
My good friend here, Kathryn, is in the counseling program, and I'm having a tiny inkling in the pit of my stomach that I might want to try that in the future. I think I'll stick with gifted ed for the time being, because I do miss being in the classroom, but I guess I hadn't realized how much I miss having real content in my own education -- she's learning Psychology, and I'm learning vague and abstract theory. I miss my Psych.
On the other hand, I feel extremely fortunate that in one year, I will have a piece of paper in my hand that, more or less, says I can teach gifted kids. I also feel fortunate that I am determined and adventurous, and I know that if, someday, counseling becomes the thing for me, there's always another master's degree out there to be had. I could be a perpetual student and be completely happy.
Although, talk about not being fiscally feasible... :)
A few people quit Teach For America after our first year. TFA treats such people in a very weird way -- they immediately take their picture off the TFA bulletin board in the office, and the whole thing becomes very hush hush in the "Name that is no longer spoken" kind of way. But I have so much respect for people who are able to look at a situation, especially part-way through, and say, "Nope, this isn't for me. I thought it was. I thought wrong. Time to try again." Not that perpetual searching is necessarily profitable or even fiscally feasible, but I do believe that there is a right time and mission and path for everyone, and it's not always what you think it's going to be.
My good friend here, Kathryn, is in the counseling program, and I'm having a tiny inkling in the pit of my stomach that I might want to try that in the future. I think I'll stick with gifted ed for the time being, because I do miss being in the classroom, but I guess I hadn't realized how much I miss having real content in my own education -- she's learning Psychology, and I'm learning vague and abstract theory. I miss my Psych.
On the other hand, I feel extremely fortunate that in one year, I will have a piece of paper in my hand that, more or less, says I can teach gifted kids. I also feel fortunate that I am determined and adventurous, and I know that if, someday, counseling becomes the thing for me, there's always another master's degree out there to be had. I could be a perpetual student and be completely happy.
Although, talk about not being fiscally feasible... :)
Saturday, September 15, 2007
"Top 100 Songs from High School"
Thanks, Ms. Snoring Scholar, for the invitation. I need a study break. You know, I've been working for an entire...35 minutes. Whew!
Oops...I was supposed to use songs from my graduation year. Not Sarah's graduation year. I think it's all coming together now...And this list is SO much better! :)
Bold = I loved it!
Underlined = I liked itStrikeout = I didn't like it!
Nothing = Uh...I didn't care
1. Lady Marmalade Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya & Pink
2. Fallin', Alicia Keys
3. I'm Real, Jennifer Lopez
4. Family Affair, Mary J. Blige
5. Butterfly, Crazy Town
6. Thank You, Dido7. Don't Tell Me, Madonna
8. He Loves U Not, Dream
9. Gone, 'N Sync
10. Love Don't Cost A Thing, Jennifer Lopez11. Hero, Enrique Iglesias (I once "swing danced" to this song. It was pathetic.)
12. Hanging By A Moment, Lifehouse
13. Drops Of Jupiter, Train (I an neutral because this song got SO OLD)
14. Jaded, Aerosmith
15. U Remind Me, Usher
16. Hit 'Em Up Style, Blu Cantrell
17. Survivor, Destiny's Child
18. It Wasn't Me. Shaggy featuring Ricardo "Rikrok" Ducent
19. All For You, Janet Jackson20. Angel, Shaggy featuring Rayvon (Stupid re-do)
21. Turn Off The Light, Nelly Furtado
22. All Or Nothing, O-Town23. How You Remind Me, Nickelback
24. Someone To Call My Lover, Janet Jackson
25. Fill Me In, Craig David26. It's Been Awhile, Staind
27. I'm Like A Bird, Nelly Furtado
28. Bootylicious, Destiny's Child
29. Again, Lenny Kravitz
30. Let Me Blow Ya Mind, Eve featuring Gwen Stefani
31. Everywhere, Michelle Branch (This song has three chords, which is why I can play it on my guitar)
32. Stutter, Joe featuring Mystikal33. Irresistable , Jessica Simpson34. I Hope You Dance, Lee Ann Womack
35. Nobody Wants To Be Lonely, Ricky Martin & Christina Aguilera
36. Here's To The Night, Eve 6
37. Beautiful Day, U2
38. Emotion, Destiny's Child
39. Superman (It's Not Easy), Five For Fighting
40. Southside, Moby with Gwen Stefani
41. The Space Between, Dave Matthews Band
42. Play, Jennifer Lopez
43. When It's Over, Sugar Ray
44. Drive, Incubus
45. More Than That, Backstreet Boys
46. What Would You, Do City High
47. Be Like That, 3 Doors Down
48. I Wanna Be Bad ,Willa Ford
49. Peaches & Cream , 112
50. Ride Wit Me, Nelly
51. Only Time, Enya
52. Where The Party At, Jagged Edge with Nelly
53. Standing Still, Jewel
54. Pop, 'N Sync
55. This Is Me , Dream56. Never Had A Dream Come True, S Club 7
57. Crazy, K-Ci & JoJo
58. You Make Me Sick, Pink
59. What It Feels Like For A Girl, Madonna
60. E.I., Nelly
61. Dig In, Lenny Kravitz
62. Get Ur Freak On, Missy Elliott
63. Breathless, The Corrs
64. Every Other Time, LFO
65. Yellow, Coldplay
66. Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning), Vertical Horizon
67. One Minute Man, Missy Elliott
68. I Do, Toya
69. Fly Away From Here, Aerosmith70. I'm A Slave 4 U, Britney Spears
71. Smooth Criminal, Alien Ant Farm
72. Still On Your Side, BBMak
73. No More (Baby I'ma Do Right), 3LW
74. My Everything, 98 Degrees
75. Ms. Jackson, Outkast
76. Start The Commotion, The Wiseguys
77. Free, Mya
78. Baby, Come On Over (This Is Our Night), Samantha Mumba
79. Hemmorhage (In My Hands), Fuel
80. Drowning, Backstreet Boys
81. Around The World (La La La…), ATC
82. Thank You For Loving Me, Bon Jovi
83. AM To PM, Christina Milian
84. Izzo (H.O.V.A.), Jay-Z
85. Flavor Of The Week, American Hi-Fi
86. What's Going On, All Star Tribute87. Stronger, Britney Spears
88. One More Time, Daft Punk
89. I'm A Believer, Smash Mouth
90. We Fit Together, O-Town
91. Differences, Ginuwine92. Follow Me, Uncle Kracker
93. There You'll Be, Faith Hill
94. So In Love With Two, Mikaila
95. In My Pocket, Mandy Moore
96. Mad Season, Matchbox 20
97. Bad Day,, Fuel
98. What's Your Fantasy Ludacris
99. Liquid Dreams, O-Town
100. Babylon, David Gray
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Literature for Adolescents and Social Reconstructivism
I'm taking a class this semester called Literature for Adolescents. Now, as a disclaimer, I love to read, but I loved it even more when I was a teenager, and thus, in many ways, my interests in books still falls a bit on the juvenile side. So really, this class is perfect for me.
But the most interesting part of the class is the professor. The first day, we jumped right into activities and sharing and discussion, which is usually not at all up my alley, but he was so positive about it, and was clear that these activities were things he really believed in, and things that he thought were going to ultimately be very important to us in constructing our knowledge of Young Adult Literature. At the end of that first class (which was just last week), Dr. Moore told us that he considers himself to be a social constructivist.
I'm now pulling out my Ed Psych book to give you an accurate idea of what social constructivism is. Vygotsky is the name of the man who did a lot with this theory (you may remember old Lev from my discussion of the Zone of Proximal Development earlier when I was talking about Scrabble). Vygotsky believed that "learners first construct knowledge in a social context and then appropriate and internalize it." Which basically means that by treating this class as a discussion group, we're going to come up with our own theories and ideas about the books we're reading, construct a meaning for them together, and then internalize that meaning and knowledge in our own ways.
Now, I love Vygotsky for his ZPD idea, but generally I think social constructivism is a bunch of hooey. This might be, in part, because I never got much out of working with groups in school because I always ended up doing most of the work and constructing my own meaning (to which Vygotsky would probably argue that if I had been afforded a peer group at the same mental level as I, I would have been able to construct better meaning from the knowledge I was supposed to be gaining). In addition, there are some real problems to just letting kids go with constructing their own knowledge and hoping that they'll stumble across the "right" knowledge. For some areas of school, that's not important -- for example, it's ok to come to one interpretation of a text and is different from someone else's, but it's NOT ok to come to an interpretation of gravity that isn't correct.
But despite all of my general dislike for this theory of education, Dr. Moore is so clearly intelligent and implementing this idea so well that I have to say he's bringing me around. There's no touchy-feely crap going on in the class (at least, not thus far), and he is giving us significantly difficult assignments and a pretty heavy workload, both things I don't associate with social constructivism. To me, however, there's nothing so satisfying as taking a class with someone who is both incredibly intelligent and, at the same time, personable and good at teaching (not someone who's a genius but who can't explain simple concepts). I take those people more seriously, especially when I'm paying them to teach me.
But the most interesting part of the class is the professor. The first day, we jumped right into activities and sharing and discussion, which is usually not at all up my alley, but he was so positive about it, and was clear that these activities were things he really believed in, and things that he thought were going to ultimately be very important to us in constructing our knowledge of Young Adult Literature. At the end of that first class (which was just last week), Dr. Moore told us that he considers himself to be a social constructivist.
I'm now pulling out my Ed Psych book to give you an accurate idea of what social constructivism is. Vygotsky is the name of the man who did a lot with this theory (you may remember old Lev from my discussion of the Zone of Proximal Development earlier when I was talking about Scrabble). Vygotsky believed that "learners first construct knowledge in a social context and then appropriate and internalize it." Which basically means that by treating this class as a discussion group, we're going to come up with our own theories and ideas about the books we're reading, construct a meaning for them together, and then internalize that meaning and knowledge in our own ways.
Now, I love Vygotsky for his ZPD idea, but generally I think social constructivism is a bunch of hooey. This might be, in part, because I never got much out of working with groups in school because I always ended up doing most of the work and constructing my own meaning (to which Vygotsky would probably argue that if I had been afforded a peer group at the same mental level as I, I would have been able to construct better meaning from the knowledge I was supposed to be gaining). In addition, there are some real problems to just letting kids go with constructing their own knowledge and hoping that they'll stumble across the "right" knowledge. For some areas of school, that's not important -- for example, it's ok to come to one interpretation of a text and is different from someone else's, but it's NOT ok to come to an interpretation of gravity that isn't correct.
But despite all of my general dislike for this theory of education, Dr. Moore is so clearly intelligent and implementing this idea so well that I have to say he's bringing me around. There's no touchy-feely crap going on in the class (at least, not thus far), and he is giving us significantly difficult assignments and a pretty heavy workload, both things I don't associate with social constructivism. To me, however, there's nothing so satisfying as taking a class with someone who is both incredibly intelligent and, at the same time, personable and good at teaching (not someone who's a genius but who can't explain simple concepts). I take those people more seriously, especially when I'm paying them to teach me.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Study Break
I'm in the library, having just finished a killer 1-hour reading of, oh, 7 pages of introductory young adult literary theory. I'm torn, because I learned an awful lot and processed a good deal in that hour, but still, an hour for seven pages seems a little ridiculous. I'm not saying I could have done it faster, because I had a study guide to complete as I was reading, but rather, perhaps next time our prof could give us fewer questions? Please?
I like to work ahead, to plan out study sessions to maximize time and get things done and stay focused (and study breaks, such as this little foray into blogworld are very important to maintaining focus and not burning out). But for me, the absolute best part of studying is the planning. When I can sit in front of my planner (God bless Maureen and Liz and Anna who gave it to me for my birthday senior year of college), and use my sticky notes and colored pens to make lists, and then retool the lists as I place tasks in order of priority. I derive great pleasure from being able to cross tasks off lists.
I'm a little Type A, which I firmly believe serves me well in life. It makes things like wedding planning easier. It makes me a good candidate for planning conferences for work, and I truly am working on a bear of a conference for January, with something in the realm of 50 presenters on various career fields, and 500 student/parent participants.
Sometimes I get a little out of control, like when I spent actual time at work planning how I can spend more time at work to "bank hours" for later in the semester when I know I won't be able to pull 20 hours a week. Or when I write the rough draft of a paper a full month ahead of time. Being so Type A brings with it a small amount of anxiety. But in the end, when my fellow students are pulling all-nighters, and I crawl into bed at midnight for my full 8 hours of sweet, sweet slumber, it is then that I appreciate this organized impulse I've been blessed with.
I like to work ahead, to plan out study sessions to maximize time and get things done and stay focused (and study breaks, such as this little foray into blogworld are very important to maintaining focus and not burning out). But for me, the absolute best part of studying is the planning. When I can sit in front of my planner (God bless Maureen and Liz and Anna who gave it to me for my birthday senior year of college), and use my sticky notes and colored pens to make lists, and then retool the lists as I place tasks in order of priority. I derive great pleasure from being able to cross tasks off lists.
I'm a little Type A, which I firmly believe serves me well in life. It makes things like wedding planning easier. It makes me a good candidate for planning conferences for work, and I truly am working on a bear of a conference for January, with something in the realm of 50 presenters on various career fields, and 500 student/parent participants.
Sometimes I get a little out of control, like when I spent actual time at work planning how I can spend more time at work to "bank hours" for later in the semester when I know I won't be able to pull 20 hours a week. Or when I write the rough draft of a paper a full month ahead of time. Being so Type A brings with it a small amount of anxiety. But in the end, when my fellow students are pulling all-nighters, and I crawl into bed at midnight for my full 8 hours of sweet, sweet slumber, it is then that I appreciate this organized impulse I've been blessed with.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
I'm Not the Dummy
Tonight was a fantastic night. I had class (which was not fantastic), and then I went to swing dancing in the Graduate Complex Lounge. It was great! There was a little lesson, and then we just danced until we wanted to leave. It brought back old memories of Notre Dame and swing dancing. I was so pleasantly surprised that there were a good number of guys there, and they did their job very well in rotating and asking the girls to all dance in turn. It was such a nice pleasant atmosphere, and everyone was extremely friendly.
Then, when we decided to leave, Dave and LaToya and Kathryn and I decided to go out for a drink. Now, I'm not a big drinker (my parents can attest to my being an extremely cheap date), and I don't generally like the bar scene a whole lot, when the music is so loud you can't hear anyone, etc. But tonight it was really good. After the four of us had been there awhile, just chatting, a couple of Dave and LaToya's law school classmates showed up, who were also extremely nice guys. Everyone made Kathryn and I (who are both non-law students -- I know her from work at the Center for Gifted Education) feel as if we were already a part of the group. It was seamless and very generous of them. Notre Dame and Teach for America were never so open. I always felt vaguely like I was reliving middle school in social situations, and there was none of that overtone here.
I've been thinking back a lot to Notre Dame, I think because it's a more analogous experience to school here than Teach for America was, and as we were walking home tonight and lightly discussing politics, I found myself very comfortable talking about it with Dave and LaToya. It was funny -- at Notre Dame, most of my friends were in the Honors Program with me, and (with the exception of my girls), I never quite felt like I was up to speed with them all. There were a few souls with whom I truly felt completely comfortable, but a lot of time, I felt just one step less intelligent than everyone, and once in awhile, conversations would devolve into obvious attempts to decide who was really "the smartest." For example, the oh-so-dreaded "What other schools were you accepted to?" conversation. Like it mattered that you got into Yale or Harvard or...anywhere else. We were all at Notre Dame together, and I found that kind of conversation vaguely annoying, like we still had something to prove. I also had significantly less tolerance for arguments about hypothetical and/or abstract ideas or theories than the other HP kids. They could debate philosophical and theological stuff for hours, and it bored me after the first, oh, 25 minutes or so. I loved the depth of conversation, but not so much the refusing to budge and redundant nature of them. Sometimes, it just seemed like mental masturbation, a way of pointing out how "deep" and "insightful" people thought themselves to be.
Interestingly, I don't feel like I have to prove anything here. The graduate students (and the law students) have such different backgrounds, there's no point in comparing, and that's nice. There's a certain level of intelligence assumed, because unmotivated people don't choose to do graduate work, but people don't try to compare experiences, they share them. When I talk to the other grad students, even the physics doctoral students, they're just people and we're just chatting, not trying to one-up each other.
I don't want to give the impression that ND was bad -- it wasn't, and I loved it, and my HP friends were my center there. It's just that this is refreshing, and I feel much more comfortable much more quickly. I wonder if it's simply a matter of everyone's maturity. It's amazing what a few years can do.
Then, when we decided to leave, Dave and LaToya and Kathryn and I decided to go out for a drink. Now, I'm not a big drinker (my parents can attest to my being an extremely cheap date), and I don't generally like the bar scene a whole lot, when the music is so loud you can't hear anyone, etc. But tonight it was really good. After the four of us had been there awhile, just chatting, a couple of Dave and LaToya's law school classmates showed up, who were also extremely nice guys. Everyone made Kathryn and I (who are both non-law students -- I know her from work at the Center for Gifted Education) feel as if we were already a part of the group. It was seamless and very generous of them. Notre Dame and Teach for America were never so open. I always felt vaguely like I was reliving middle school in social situations, and there was none of that overtone here.
I've been thinking back a lot to Notre Dame, I think because it's a more analogous experience to school here than Teach for America was, and as we were walking home tonight and lightly discussing politics, I found myself very comfortable talking about it with Dave and LaToya. It was funny -- at Notre Dame, most of my friends were in the Honors Program with me, and (with the exception of my girls), I never quite felt like I was up to speed with them all. There were a few souls with whom I truly felt completely comfortable, but a lot of time, I felt just one step less intelligent than everyone, and once in awhile, conversations would devolve into obvious attempts to decide who was really "the smartest." For example, the oh-so-dreaded "What other schools were you accepted to?" conversation. Like it mattered that you got into Yale or Harvard or...anywhere else. We were all at Notre Dame together, and I found that kind of conversation vaguely annoying, like we still had something to prove. I also had significantly less tolerance for arguments about hypothetical and/or abstract ideas or theories than the other HP kids. They could debate philosophical and theological stuff for hours, and it bored me after the first, oh, 25 minutes or so. I loved the depth of conversation, but not so much the refusing to budge and redundant nature of them. Sometimes, it just seemed like mental masturbation, a way of pointing out how "deep" and "insightful" people thought themselves to be.
Interestingly, I don't feel like I have to prove anything here. The graduate students (and the law students) have such different backgrounds, there's no point in comparing, and that's nice. There's a certain level of intelligence assumed, because unmotivated people don't choose to do graduate work, but people don't try to compare experiences, they share them. When I talk to the other grad students, even the physics doctoral students, they're just people and we're just chatting, not trying to one-up each other.
I don't want to give the impression that ND was bad -- it wasn't, and I loved it, and my HP friends were my center there. It's just that this is refreshing, and I feel much more comfortable much more quickly. I wonder if it's simply a matter of everyone's maturity. It's amazing what a few years can do.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Scrabulous and the Zone of Proximal Development
I can now play Scrabble on Facebook. My favorite game combined with my favorite time-waster. Glorious.
Andy and I play Scrabble a lot. It's challenging, because he's better than I am. There's a developmental psychologist named Vygotsky that educators talk about a lot, because he developed this idea called the "Zone of Proximal Development" (ZPD). The idea is that kids learn things the best when they are given tasks that are just above their capabilities, so they have to stretch to complete them. Well, a Scrabble game with Andy is right in my ZPD. I rarely win, but I'm close enough to his ability to keep him from completely killing me every time...then I'd lose motivation, and Vygotsky doesn't want that!
I think, aside from Scrabble, Andy and I are relatively well-matched mentally. I would have to imagine that's going to be key for a good marriage, as long as neither of us gets too smart in graduate school. (I can safely say that's not a danger for me...)
Andy and I play Scrabble a lot. It's challenging, because he's better than I am. There's a developmental psychologist named Vygotsky that educators talk about a lot, because he developed this idea called the "Zone of Proximal Development" (ZPD). The idea is that kids learn things the best when they are given tasks that are just above their capabilities, so they have to stretch to complete them. Well, a Scrabble game with Andy is right in my ZPD. I rarely win, but I'm close enough to his ability to keep him from completely killing me every time...then I'd lose motivation, and Vygotsky doesn't want that!
I think, aside from Scrabble, Andy and I are relatively well-matched mentally. I would have to imagine that's going to be key for a good marriage, as long as neither of us gets too smart in graduate school. (I can safely say that's not a danger for me...)
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Identity Crisis
I started grad school this summer at William and Mary. I'm also working 20 hours a week at the Center for Gifted Education, a fantastic gold star for the resume (not to mention they're paying a good chunk of my tuition...). When I walked in on my first day, aside from being thrown into the melee of a conference for hundreds of teachers that the Center was running, I also made the decision to introduce myself as Rebecca. It made sense -- when I taught at Clinton Middle School last year, whenever anyone there referred to me by anything other than Ms. Walter, it was always Rebecca. And, you know, Becky is the name of a kid. Rebecca sounds more mature, and makes sense to use professionally.
Right, brilliant. Identity crisis ensues.
I answer the phone at work and forget that my name is now Rebecca. I accidentally introduce myself to 1 of 17 presenters at a conference as Becky, and I feel warm and fuzzy with the familiarity, but slightly worried that someone will call me out on it. People call out to me from inside their offices at the Center, and I don't realize they're talking to me when they call "Rebecca." And then, I realized that 75% of the people in my classes this semester (at which I made the conscious decision to be the less formal "Becky"), also work with me at the Center. So then I become that annoying person who can't answer the question "But what do you prefer to be called?"
Even now, I start a new blog, and it asks me what name I want to post under. Oh man. I was tempted to call myself something neutral, like "Woman," "Hildegaard von Bingen" or "Hey You". I think I settled on Rebecca M. I felt relief, however, when I realized that blog-setting-up decision was changeable, like the title.
Oh, yes, the title. I sat at my desk staring at the hole in the leg of my jeans for a full five minutes trying to decide what to call this little adventure. I envy those people who have the dedication to stick to blogs with a purpose. Like the restaurant reviewers, or the political commentators (who bore me to tears, but hey, at least they have a purpose), or even Mom, who can keep a kind of religious "musings with Jesus" theme going in her blog. But I don't have a theme. I can't think of anything important enough to me that I could weave it throughout a long sequence of postings.
So I went to thesaurus.com and searched the synonyms for "miscellaneous." You know, as in, "Becky's Page of Miscellanea" (this was, literally, the name of my webpage that I created in 8th grade when I taught myself HTML and was hosted by geocities in Vienna/Strasse...oh, the good old days!). But as I thought about it, that just seemed like advertising my indecision and lack of overarching life philosophy. What's a girl to do?
Flight of the Conchords.
I knew the boys would inspire me. The first song on the CD that Andy, my fiance burned for me, which I assume is called "Part Time Model", includes a line that says something to the effect of, "You're the most beautiful girl in the whole wide room." Perfect. Vague, witty, and uncommitted to anything.
I am a little nervous about this blog. As I previously mentioned, my mother just started her own missive in cyberspace, which, if not overbearing, is at least slightly theological in nature. I hope I don't offend her with my wild, worldly, and sometimes nonCatholic ideas.
I guess we'll see how it all goes. And perhaps, more importantly, if I become at all regular in posting. My old online journal was sadly neglected. I'm hoping the pretty template for this blog will keep me engaged a bit more consistently.
Right, brilliant. Identity crisis ensues.
I answer the phone at work and forget that my name is now Rebecca. I accidentally introduce myself to 1 of 17 presenters at a conference as Becky, and I feel warm and fuzzy with the familiarity, but slightly worried that someone will call me out on it. People call out to me from inside their offices at the Center, and I don't realize they're talking to me when they call "Rebecca." And then, I realized that 75% of the people in my classes this semester (at which I made the conscious decision to be the less formal "Becky"), also work with me at the Center. So then I become that annoying person who can't answer the question "But what do you prefer to be called?"
Even now, I start a new blog, and it asks me what name I want to post under. Oh man. I was tempted to call myself something neutral, like "Woman," "Hildegaard von Bingen" or "Hey You". I think I settled on Rebecca M. I felt relief, however, when I realized that blog-setting-up decision was changeable, like the title.
Oh, yes, the title. I sat at my desk staring at the hole in the leg of my jeans for a full five minutes trying to decide what to call this little adventure. I envy those people who have the dedication to stick to blogs with a purpose. Like the restaurant reviewers, or the political commentators (who bore me to tears, but hey, at least they have a purpose), or even Mom, who can keep a kind of religious "musings with Jesus" theme going in her blog. But I don't have a theme. I can't think of anything important enough to me that I could weave it throughout a long sequence of postings.
So I went to thesaurus.com and searched the synonyms for "miscellaneous." You know, as in, "Becky's Page of Miscellanea" (this was, literally, the name of my webpage that I created in 8th grade when I taught myself HTML and was hosted by geocities in Vienna/Strasse...oh, the good old days!). But as I thought about it, that just seemed like advertising my indecision and lack of overarching life philosophy. What's a girl to do?
Flight of the Conchords.
I knew the boys would inspire me. The first song on the CD that Andy, my fiance burned for me, which I assume is called "Part Time Model", includes a line that says something to the effect of, "You're the most beautiful girl in the whole wide room." Perfect. Vague, witty, and uncommitted to anything.
I am a little nervous about this blog. As I previously mentioned, my mother just started her own missive in cyberspace, which, if not overbearing, is at least slightly theological in nature. I hope I don't offend her with my wild, worldly, and sometimes nonCatholic ideas.
I guess we'll see how it all goes. And perhaps, more importantly, if I become at all regular in posting. My old online journal was sadly neglected. I'm hoping the pretty template for this blog will keep me engaged a bit more consistently.
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