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The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I was in the book section of Costco when a stranger put this book in my hands and said, “This is the best book you will ever read.” I politely acknowledged her enthusiasm and put the book down. She followed me along the book display and repeated, “No really, this is a GREAT book.” Who stalks people in Costco because they are so excited about a book? I was curious. So I bought The Goldfinch.

170 pages in – I was captivated and slightly overwhelmed by the dismal experiences; nevertheless, the writing was exquisite.

771 pages done – I was extremely irritated by the author, the characters and the final resolution. I was left with one question, “Where the hell was the editor?” While reading the book the editor forgot to EDIT the parts that are not essential to the plot and development of the characters.

This book is like sitting down to a decadent dinner for two and being served a feast for 20. For those who like to gorge on words, this is your book. For those who appreciate the brilliance of brevity, by page 771 you will be jaded by the unlikelihood of Boris’ “faithful dog-like” character, very annoyed by the laboured monologue at the end – no longer in the voice of Theo and bewildered by the lack of influence of Theo’s true love – Pippa.

If I see my book stalker in Costco again I will say, “Spectacular writing – abominable editing.”

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A few weeks back I ran the Victoria 1/2 Marathon. It was a majestic day in Victoria with unseasonably warm temperatures and a festive summer vibe throughout the streets. I had been training for this event for three years and finally the day arrived.  I had never run such an event before I had no idea what to expect. Aside from the delirious puking and fainting fears that lingered in the final moments before I fell asleep the night before the race I was fairly confident I could finish the course.

When preparing for such an event I sometimes thought about the finish line. What would I  feel at the end?
Who would I see at the finish?

Such images fill the spaces between each strike along the chosen path during  early morning training runs.

As it was no one was there to greet me at the finish line.

I sprinted to the end, crossed the line, passed the line of cookies and doughnuts desperately searched for more water and drove home.

Here’s what I will remember.

My friend Jean.

..cheering me on at the 10km mark
with a smile
a laugh
and a front page illustration of Justin Trudeau
(I have a slight Justin infatuation- that’s another post)

My Reaction?

And here’s the gem.

It doesn’t matter who meets you at the end of an accomplishment.
Who meets you in the middle?
Who makes you laugh so deep you regain perspective?

Who doesn’t care if you ever accomplish anything? But is just there because

you

are.

1. Never give up the opportunity to chew a biscuit
2. Approach strangers with curious caution
3. When in doubt bark to get a second opinion
4. A walk renews all the senses
5. Make time to unwind in a comfortable sunbeam
6. Sometimes it’s better to herd than to lead
7. Supper is always a time to celebrate
8. Grooming is a necessary evil
9. Seeing loved ones no matter how often is always cause for excitement
10. Chewing a woman’s shoes is a desperate, pathetic act but will get her attention.

This is a season of fasting for some and I have been taught that to fast is to abstain from something that brings me pleasure. I read these words last week and their irritating rhythm keeps unfurling throughout this day.

Sometimes I find the most challenging acts of fasting are intentionally moving away from those behaviors and thought processes that are shallow caves of false security and self preservation and moving towards riskier, less desirable precipices of tenderness and integrity.

Depending on my choices – feasting is more challenging than fasting.

The verses above mean the most to me but the rest of these verses written by Bishop Arthur Lichtenberger can also be found here.

©cho45’s photostream

So I finally found the time and admittedly the nerve to pick up and read my student evaluations for EDCI 336 from  last term. I promised myself that I would set up the scenario with the following parameters:

1. Read evaluations while experiencing  a high self-esteem trend.
2. Have someone available on speed dial if I need to banter about the results.
3. Read evaluations just before or just after a workout, tennis game, or exceptional bottle of wine.

Why so tentative?

Before obtaining my evaluations I talked to someone who I admire and aspire to be like (Em that’s you!) She’s the kind of person who is your multi-vitamin of life. She is full of joy, wisdom, perspective and with the precious capacity to listen. She said that her student evaluations were “brutal” very critical and full of comments that she deemed to be less than constructive.

My fear of experiencing a similar plight?

I gave it my all.

I don’t think given the same circumstances I could have worked any harder during this experience. Despite my best effort what if I failed? What if I somehow missed the connection?

So I’m well acquainted with failure and I find opportunities to proclaim the opportunities that failure awakens but when faced with the possibility of a teaching debacle it is truly uncomfortable..particularly when the edge is so fine between a great teaching/learning experience and a dismal one.

Walking to my car with the manila envelope tucked under my arm I felt the tension building so much so that upon arriving at my car I threw open the door, tore open the envelope and peered at the results. A confusing array of columns and numbers didn’t give me immediate clarity. I had to comb through mean, medians, standard deviations to condense my overall impression.

After a few minutes I breathed a sigh of relief. I reviewed a range of results from “Very Poor” to “Excellent” with more results on the “Excellent” side of the teeter totter than the “Very Poor”.

. …Exhale…  “Well at least I didn’t suck.”

No, not very mature is it? But I think I reveal the gnawing insecurity that educators who start their career today and those who have been teaching for over twenty years experience each time they dare to engage with this mystery called teaching. The teeter totter of engaged learning can be very unpredictable.

Did these evaluations help me in my pursuit to provide the best learning experience? Well, given the number of written responses trashing Twitter I likely won’t spend as much time badgering students about tweeting pedagogy. Other than a few minor modifications I’m not sure these evaluations are a valuable means of improving my practice.

I’m discovering that every group of students I encounter has its distinct characteristics and needs. I need to prepare presentations and activities that respond to the unique disposition of the class and learning styles during the course- while it still matters not after course has finished.  The most invaluable feedback I received was at the beginning and midway part of the term when I distributed an online questionnaire about the content, delivery and direction of the course. With this feedback I was able to make some changes to both the preparation and delivery of the course material. Next time maybe I’ll plan to canvass the class three times during the term or look for “mini-forms”  of feedback to see if this maintains or increases their engagement.

So I have been evaluating why I don’t seem to make time to blog and I realized that I outgrew my blog and that I needed to change it so that it reflects more of who I am at this point in my life. I spend a good deal of time  designing and evaluating educational technologies and online learning tools but this is only a slice of  life that I live. So despite the fact that blogs should be focused on one theme I’ve decided that the blog for me and one that I will invest some creative energy in is a smorgasbord of ideas and experiences. Speaking of smorgasbord why don’t we use this word anymore?
First up on the smorgasbord experience. An unexpected Victoria snowfall…Woke up motivated to continue my running regimen but not so fast…a foot of snow fell on Victoria snarling traffic and bringing Canada’s Lotus Land to a serene standstill. Check out my pics in my photo gallery.

Photo above by ©bayswater97

Simon Hua’s Photostream

One of my most irritating memories of Grade 6 was Physical Education classes. We had a teacher who’s idea of PE was a daily regimen of jogging and Netball. We never experienced a game of  tag, dodgeball, or capture the flag. The ubiquitous metal climbing gym (that adorned all the Vancouver schools of the 1970s that were later deemed as “death traps” by risk analysis consultants) remained entombed in chains  against the gym wall for the entire year of 1976.

The only thing worse than jogging in the Vancouver drizzle for ten months of the year was squinting through the sweat and freezing rain at my PE teacher who would just stand on the sidewalk in her long wool trench coat looking like she was waiting to take her seat at an opera rather than jogging herself and in turn modeling for her students how to develop physical fitness and a love of sport.

Why do I bring up this annoying memory? Well I have an opportunity to show a few people the value of blogging as a reflective, connecting, creative activity; however, if I am not willing to sustain a blog myself then I might as well don my own comfy coat  find a place on the sidewalk and watch those I’m working with blog around me. Sorry Mrs R…..from 1976 I won’t be joining you. I am going to carve out the time to write.