Quick Update

It has been a crazy couple of days. Some good news and some bad. I'll have more to report next week. Until then, I'm going to be out of contact due to the present my husband got me for my [big milestone] birthday. Looking at the itinerary makes me want to sing:

Love, exciting and new
Come Aboard. We're expecting you.
Love, life's sweetest reward.
Let it flow, it floats back to you.

Those of you from the same age group may recognize our destination. Seriously, same ports and everything.

A Few Messages....

To the airline guy with the foresight to allow my husband to preboard the plane to install two carseats even thought the airline wasn't preboarding families with small children: Thank you. I admire your ability to think outside the box.

To the two women who cheerfully helped me herd my children onto the plane: Thank you. Your kindness and understanding is appreciated.

To the people who gave me dirty looks in the airport: Too f***ing bad. You try getting two three year olds to do anything other than run in circles when they have been cooped up in carseats for the better part of the last seven hours. I could brag about how they did not bother anyone on the plane, how great they were going through security, and explain that they are not hurting anyone by running around in a circle right now. But, of course, I know that does not matter to you, because after viewing my children for 45 seconds, you have decided I am a horrible mother. Thanks. Merry F***ing Christmas to you too.

Now that my grading is finished, I find myself addicted

I heard about this site on NPR the other day.

FreeRice.com is a vocabulary quiz site that donates the advertising revenue it generates to the United Nations World Food Program. It's cool, quick and fun.

My grades are due in 12 hours

What did I do all day? Grade.

What will I do into the wee hours of the morning? Grading.

What was my colleague doing today? Working on a syllabus. For next term. Which begins in February.

Damn her.

Long Day of Exams

Both of my upper division classes had final exams scheduled today. Each exam has two parts: a standardized part put out by our discipline's national organization, and a portion written by me. I allowed students to take them anytime (within reason) this week, and they were allowed to check out one part at a time. Today, I had students spread out all over all day taking various parts of one or both exams.

I walked into one room, where everybody was working hard. I love to see people working hard on physchembio classwithlotsofmath!

"It's a party!" I exclaim.

This comment was not greeted with the same level of enthusiasm with which is was given.

Oh, and did I mention the tests are, um, a little long? We talk briefly. I admit the tests are long. They admit they are not so bad, just long.

"It's just that we feel like we are never getting out of here," they say.

"Like Hotel California?" I say. Then, "No really! Hotel California is the perfect metaphor: You can check out any time you'd like but you can never leave."

[The room erupts in a burst of much needed laughter]

End of Term Shenanigans

A new transfer student (let's call her Jill) joined my upper division class this term. Jill is somewhat bright, quite needy and a little whiny. One common mode of operation is to keep asking you the same question repeatedly, trying to get out of you the answer she wants. One the positive side, she has been getting more integrated into the community of physchembio majors, which has helped mediate the whines a bit. Now, however, we have a problem.

Last week, I gave the last unit exam in physchembio classwithlotsofmath. For complex and different reasons, Jill and some other students were taking the test the next day. She walked in on another student who had already started the test. We'll call her Sarah. The version I heard about (second hand) went something like this:

Jill: Hi, what are you doing?

Sarah: I'm taking the test.

Jill: Yes, that is why I'm here too. Do you know how to..

Sarah: Hello, I'm taking the test. Right. Now.

Jill: Oh, now?

[leaves]

[comes back in]

Jill: Is this problem on the test?

Sarah: What? I'm not going to tell you that. Please go, I need to work.

For various reasons, I am not really surprised by this. As a result, I'm not angry. I figure, good, now maybe she's learned something.

Another student "Amanda" (same class) took the physchembio classwithlotsofmath final early. This morning Jill asked her what problems were on the final.

Now, I am angry.

I heard about this portion of the story third hand. But I also heard that Amanda (the child of a physchembio professor elsewhere) ripped into Jill about academic dishonesty for a full two minutes.

Perhaps this is one of those problems that will eventually solve itself.

I hate destroying hope and optimism

• A student, taking a test, asks me "Do we need more information to solve this problem?"
  
  I take a look. "No" I say, "Sorry."
  
  "That's okay, just thought I'd ask."
  
  
• A fairly hardworking student who is taking two of my upper level classes comes to speak with me. He inquires about his grade in one and is wondering how well he would have to do on the final. I tell him he has a pretty solid B, so he has some wiggle room, and that I would not expect him to fall to a C unless he did really badly.
  
  "Oh, I'm not worried about that." He says, confidently. "What do I need to get an A?"
  
  Not sure what to say in the face of such confidence, I decide to rely on simple math. We add up the points he has missed on the exams so far, note that these are the sum total he would be allowed to miss, not including points lost on homework and in lab, and he quickly sees the problem.
  
  Then he says, "Well, at least I'm not worried about physchembio classwithlotsofmath."
  
  Fortunately, in that class things are looking more positive, but not so much that he shouldn't worry.
  
  

Friday Cat Blogging

Two cat-related comments, a little early for the traditional Friday:

1) Nothing I love more than cleaning up cat vomit within the first 24 hours after getting the rugs professionally cleaned.

2) Woke up thinking I had pink-eye. (bleh!) Immediately panicked regarding likely status of Dalton and Curie's eyes (read: infected and infectious) and the resulting consequences for daycare. In the end, it was not pink-eye, but rather a histamine-inducing feline sleeping on my head - unfortunately combined with an air filter set to "off" because certain three year olds like to push buttons.

Transcending the Debate

My son plays with cars. He loves cars. He is all about cars. He quizzes people on where their cars are. People say to me: "He's such a boy!" Clearly, they are not aware of his fondness of pink and kitties.

My daughter seems to be showing an interest in math. She loves counting, asks about numbers constantly, and seems interested in thinking about addition and subtraction. Does anyone comment on this? No. Instead, I get comments about how much she looks like me, or comments about her verbal skills.

Most of the time, I don't bother to argue. I smile and nod. I may point out how much Dalton loves pink and how much Curie loves numbers when I can. I don't know if this is the best approach, but arguments that go nowhere are exhausting.

So, about transcending the debate: what do I think the most important thing women scientists can do? Be present. Be active. Be visible. Do what you love. Don't be shy about your love of science. Hopefully, when boys and girls see that women they know, and women who look like women they know, do science, the rest will follow.



Scientiae-Carnival