Pedagogy, Philosophy, and Nonsense Home
Essays and Links
The Dawn, the Dark, and the Horse I Didn't Ride in On (an odd, philosophical, semi-romantic meandering)
Ghost Dancer in the Twilight Zone
The Hair Connection and the Nature of Choices
The Mug, the Magic, and the Mistake
Writing and Education
A Major is More Minor Than You Think
Thoughts About Picking a Major
Reading Poetry and Cloud Watching
What's the Subject of a Class?
Why Write? Legos, Power, and Control
Writing and Einstein: The Difference Between Information and Meaning
Writing and the Goldilocks Dilemma
Something Somewhat Vaguely Like a Resumé
Showing Class (writing by current or former
I'll Just Have
Toys to Toys
Scribbles and Bits (neat lines or paragraphs by various students)
This part of the site is dedicated to writing done by my current and former students, writing done for class, on the side, or even long after the term ended. Writing may include essays, stories, poems, scraps, or writing that defies categories.
SCRIBBLES AND BITS (mostly writing from a phrase up to a paragraph)
You don't answer the questions; you follow them. Josh Tarsky, Ohio University
As I approached the playground, I kicked off my Kangaroos and stepped into the cool sand. It reminded me of my mother. Ahead of me was a vast empire of bars and ropes. There were no wrong turns in this city. There were no dead ends either. But even if there were, the concept behind this place was to get as lost as possible, and who was I to break the rules? Jason Nesler, Owensboro Community College, Spring 2002.
I'm just 20 and pissed. Joseph Ochoa, Owensboro Community College (James Dean never said it quite so well.)
The silvery glimmer caught my eye. What could it be? What if it is something great? I wish I wasn t in such a hurry. Getting closer to it I see it is only a dime. How disappointing, in an awkward hesitation, I look around me wondering if any one noticed me slowing down my pace. I don t pick it up, I am in a hurry. I am late for class. I get to class and it stays on my mind. It is just a dime! Silly how a dime on the road can bring up memories . First thing I thought of was the jolly rancher suckers I used to buy when I was a child. I would beg my Mom for a dime to get one at the dime store. There was nothing quite like the watermelon ones. The sweet sourness would last so long! Then I think about those little individually wrapped peanut butter cups that my kids beg me for when we are at the gas station. How sweet they must be for them. And of course how much do they cost? Just a dime. Just ten cents! Why am I so hung up on this. I guess because I walked away from what I was disappointed to see was just a dime. But how many times have I been just a dime short of sweet satisfaction. Grace Jackson, Owensboro Community College, Spring 2002, journal entry.
Converse, Critique, Question
Would you like to know when the site gets updated? Drop me an e-mail, and I'll add you to the list. Much of my writing has been for the antiques site lately, but I have a long list of essays in assorted stages of revision for this site. The people who e-mail often apologize because they assume I'm swamped with e-mails. I only wish it were true. I'm a teacher from the marrow out, so give me questions. I'm a writer, so I also need an audience. Sometimes that means applause, sometimes rotten tomatoes.
From time to time, a student decides to use some of my ideas, or perhaps they even quote me in a paper. Great, I'll take what fame and traces of immortality I can get. However, I should also warn such students that my ideas are not always the things that your teachers want to hear. I'm a stubborn idealist, and that puts me at odds with quite a bit of education theory and literary criticism. Sure, I think I'm right about some things, and I'm sometimes convinced of my own brilliance, but don't jump into the fire blindfolded.