Delusions of Adequacy

The College Board has announced a new writing component on the 2005 SAT. With the addition of this section, the SAT moves beyond simple multiple-choice, and adds an essay section:

Writing is a core skill needed for success in both college and the workplace. Research has shown that a student's ability to write a first draft of a short, timed essay relates positively to the student's ability to perform successfully in college courses that require writing. The addition of the writing section will reinforce the importance of writing skills throughout a student's education and support the academic achievement of all students, bolstering their chances for academic success in college.

There'll be a 35 minute multiple-choice section and a 25-minute essay period. The new section will be scored on a 200-800 scale, which means the new top score for the SAT will be 2400, rather than 1600.

As usual with anything impacting education and standards, I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it's nice to see ETS eliminating the pure multiple-choice basis of the SAT; but on the other, does this change not stand to give ammunition to those who criticize the test for being ethnically and socioeconomically biased toward middle- and upper-class kids? Not that minorities can't write, but as a teacher who sees plenty of limited English proficiency kids, I can offer plenty of anecdotal evidence of students who are capable of high-quality work and excellent performance, but whose language barrier may prevent them from demonstrating their full abilities on a test where English aptitude is a must.

And, of course, there's the third hand, which says that LEP students must adapt; we are, after all, talking about a test for admission to American colleges, which will require their students to be able to write cogent English; and as a teacher who refuses to unnecessarily mollycoddle underperformers, I'm hardly one to criticize the Board for the new requirement.

And there's the part of me that has great affection for the SAT, my (relatively) high score on which enabled me to attend the university of my choice, despite a somewhat lackluster high-school career. (Hey, ETS; grade that last sentence for me, willya?)

And then there's the part of me that wonders why the SAT needs a writing section to cull students for college admissions; aren't the colleges who accept SAT scores still requiring their prospective students to write essays on their applications? Can't they tell from those whether the kid can write?

Maybe not. Outside the rarified atmosphere of a testing room, it's all too easy to have someone else proof, revise, or even just write the application essays. Which means the new section of the test says something troubling about the honesty, or lack of it, in our society...

Well, what's done is done. We'll see how it impacts admissions and standards of writing instruction as the years go on.

(I'd probably grade this post about a 450-600; verbose, meandering, and unfocused.)

I'm actually feeling a bit guilty this year because of how harsh I'm being on my students. Especially now that they're presenting their first dialogues.

Normally, I try to be supportive. Getting up in front of a classroom full of your peers to speak a foreign language is not the easiest thing in the world to do, and I acknowledge that. I try to get each kid to see that yes, they can do it. I even have them repeat Charlton Comics' hero Thunderbolt's willpower mantra: "I can do it. I must do it. I will do it!!!"

It usually worked for him, except when the bad guys surrounded him and bopped him upside the head. And these days, I have to recite that formula to myself every day just to get out of bed.

And normally, if a student does badly, I immediately try to pick something to praise about his performance as he returns, shame-faced, to his seats. (I say "his" because contrary to popular myth, it's actually boys who underperform and suffer the most ridicule and exclusion in the classroom, and about 90 percent of those who fail their dialogues are boys.)

But not this year. Whether the kids are doing worse or I'm simply a meaner person than I used to be, I am rarely hesitating before unloading on the underachievers. The word "pathetic" has escaped my lips more than once to describe some lackluster performance, with no ameliorating praise to soften the blow. I see quivering lips and averted eyes and know what I'm doing and even relish it a bit.

In my defense, I'm still offering praise absolutely wherever I can, and in many cases when I probably shouldn't. But I'm getting more and more willing to call a failure a failure in front of the class.

Also in my defense, I am setting up the assignment as far in advance, and with as much preparation, as I ever have before. I have made vocabulary and pronunciation help more available than in previous years. I beg, I plead, I cajole throughout the preparation process. I warn them to use every precious moment of practice time I allow them in class to practice, not to socialize, and I walk the room to see to it they're following through. And I give them not a few minutes, not a single class period, but an entire week of prep time before they have to go up.

And ninety percent of my sixth and seventh graders who have presented dialogues this week have gotten up, stared at each other for a while, said hola, shuffled their feet for a few minutes in absolute silence, and stared at each other expectantly, hoping against hope that their partners will carry the conversation for them. This has been, in practically all instances, a forlorn and baseless hope.

So they stand there, wishing the ground would open up and swallow them, while their classmates grow bored and restless until I cut them short and send them back to their seats with a "That was pathetic."

And then I grill them: Did you study your vocabulary sheets? Did you ask me for help with pronunciation? Most of all: Did you practice, or did you socialize?

As the recriminations proceed, I try to emphasize that this failure is no-one's fault but theirs... but in the back of my mind, always, there is the conviction that if only I had done a better job, they would have, too.

And so I am harsh, and so I feel guilty, and so I give them another chance after a couple more days' practice time.

And they blow their second chances too, and all I can do is laugh sardonically while I assign them their F's.

From WORLD Mag Blog, this look at the "Retro vs. Metro America" meme by author and all around Smart Guy John Sperling.

The Great Divide is billed as "a blueprint for how the Democratic Party can regain, and maintain, control of the White House, Senate, and House of Representatives." Mr. Sperling, founder of the University of Phoenix, believes that conservative voters with traditional values are a millstone around America's neck, one that suppresses excellence in education, science, and the arts, and is bent on crushing "differences in ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation," along with "public education, childcare, and other services needed by working parents." All this while coddling the rich with conspiratorial tax cuts.

Why is that important? Because with few exceptions, Mr. Sperling's "Retro America" consists of the "Red States," all those who voted for George Bush in 2000 -- and he says those citizens are a pack of hyperchurched, flat-earth bigots in need of Democratic enlightenment.

All well and good; us poor benighted Retro social and religious conservatives, with our hideously warped worldviews and our bass-ackwards agenda, will soon be brought, kicking and screaming, into the light by the urbane, educated, intelligent Metros.

That is, if they can find us first.

(If they change the picture, somebody let me know and I'll try to post the one from today, August 24, 2004. It's priceless. Oh, yes, they're so much smarter than us.)

Hat tip to World Mag Blog and commenter Jon S.

Posting's been light this week because of network instability. Maybe it will be fixed soon.

Still no relief on the numbers front. But, praises be, they did fix my air conditioning! Yippee!

And my washer and dryer work. I can wash clothes without having to make an evening of it at my aunt Lois's or the laundromat!

An interesting comparison last night from Newt Gingrich on The O'Reilly Factor -- no, I didn't watch the whole thing, I can't stand O'Reilly. But Gingrich essentially compared the Swiftboat Vets to Michael Moore and Fahrenheit 9/11.

Hrrm.

Meanwhile, at www.factcheck.org, there's this summary of the claims and counterclaims from each side of the dispute.

My personal view: I've never worn the uniform and I'm not going to be one to accuse Kerry of anything in that regard. I oppose his election because of his stands on several issues and what he's done since he entered public life, not because of four months in a confusing and hostile environment. I do wish he'd release his actual military records, which might clear up all of this overnight.

And I do find the historic reversal of each party's usual position amusing. Whoever thinks God (or at least history) has no sense of humor, riddle me this: how is it that Democrats now prefer a war criminal to a draft dodger?

Not much difference from day one, except that instead of taking kids out of my biggest class, they actually added to it.

I'm hoping they'll be able to reduce that class, but I'm not terribly optimistic about it.

Thank you, budget cuts!

Yesterday was our first day with kids. As first days with kids go, it wasn't bad.

The worst part about the day is the malfunctioning air conditioning in my room. Imagine the dog days of a Georgia summer.

Now imagine it cooped up in a classroom.

Now imagine it cooped up in a classroom with 36 kids.

Now imagine it cooped up in a classroom with 36 kids and windows that won't open.

Now imagine it cooped up in a classroom with 36 kids, windows that won't open, and no A/C.

The kids, God bless them, took it in stride. Very few complained about the heat. Perhaps that's because most of them heard my "no weather reports" lecture last year. (Which goes, roughly: You don't have to tell me it's hot or cold in here. I know whether it's hot or cold in here. I'm in this room much more than you are, and I am fully aware of its climate. Do not give me a weather report and do not complain.)

And yes, I did have one class that had 36 kids in it. They were well-behaved... yesterday. Experience tells me they will always be well-behaved on the first day, maybe even the whole first week. But if there are still 36 kids in there next week, I expect I will have to smite down with wrath upon a few of them (to the extent that one can smite down with wrath upon someone with an office referral) by the middle of next week. The guidance counselor, who is looking even more harried and stressed than usual for this time of year, promises that once our numbers stabilize, I shouldn't have that many; she'll do her best to even out the overloaded classes with those who have room for a few more. Which, I suppose, means that the classes in which I have (as of yesterday) only 25 or so will go up to 30, while my 36-body class may come down to, say, 32.

So we'll see how it goes today. I am optimistic.

Spent $500 on a washer and dryer last night. This depresses me. I hate spending money on necessities.

According to a University of Pennsylvannia survey, Fahrenheit 9/11 is not swaying voters.

Most people who are seeing the movie are already opponents of Bush. Go figure.

Recently, the major meeja have been in full-blown rapture mode over the resurgence of Ron Reagan, Jr. as a Democratic spokesman, a frenzy that reached its peak last month when Ron addressed the Democratic National Convention on the topic of stem cell research. Ron Reagan's every utterance about the President (and he's not exactly been complimentary) has been approvingly reported in the mainstream press.

I wonder if they'll be so happy to find out that Ron's mother Nancy supports Bush?

Via WORLD Mag Blog.

Saw all the movies this summer that I was interested in. Some were better than others. Some were even worse than I expected.


Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Loved it. Loved. It. Where the first two flicks were overproduced, glitzy amusement parks for those who'd read the books, HP3 seemed almost real. Hogwarts finally looked like a 1,000 year-old university for wizards, not the newest attraction at Disneyworld. The washed-out color palette also added a grittiness that the first two films utterly lacked. And the actors have hit their stride. (And thank the screenwriter and director that they gave Ron something to do besides hold his mouth open in a rictus of terror while pointing at threats and making hooting noises.)

It didn't hurt that HP3 has the most emotional third act of any of the books so far except for Goblet of Fire. I'm very much looking forward to that one.


Chronicles of Riddick

I've never seen Pitch Black, and Vin Diesel, while decent, isn't my favorite actor of all time. Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed this one. Maybe it was the production design, or maybe it was the way it ended; or maybe it was simply the fact that finally, here is a science fiction movie set in the far future that doesn't involve any creatures sneaking aboard spacecraft and killing off the crew one by one. Honestly, the late-70's SF movie that has had the most imitators over the years isn't Star Wars but Alien. Enough already!

Oh, and the prison-planet sequence, while cool, should have been cut. Riddick should've been in direct conflict with the Necromongers for the entire movie.


Spider-Man 2

I liked this one enough to see it three times, and it got better each time. Still, it had more than its share of flaws -- none of them bad enough to condemn the movie, but enough to irritate me every time.

Good things:

1. Spidey and Doc-Ock falling off buildings and fighting on the way down. Straight from the comics.

2. Doc Ock attacking the surgical team trying to remove his arms at the hospital. (Bad point: his heartfelt "NO!" upon waking up and seeing what his arms have done. A bit too campy.)

3. Character development. Yes, Hollywood, we do like movies with recognizably human protagonists.

Bad things:

1. The pseudo-scientific MacGuffin of the fusion process. Completely unconvincing to anyone who remembers anything from their high-school physics class. And the jargon Octavius and Parker spout to each other is just embarrassingly bad.

2. The destruction of MJ. At the end of Spider-Man, Mary Jane knew Peter was Spider-Man. Watch the cemetery scene again; when her hand goes to her mouth after he denies her... you can't tell me she doesn't know. You can tell me, but I won't believe you.

Yet by S2, MJ has developed a very convenient ignorance of who Peter is. At the beginning of the movie, there's a lot of tantalizing dialogue between the two, which could give the impression that MJ still knows and is trying to tease a confession out of Peter. But this is dropped, because the machinery of the movie requires MJ to spend most of it in utter confusion.

It's like what Return of the Jedi did to Princess Leia, only worse.

But my favorite part of the movie (other than the extended punch-fest on the train) is a scene that started out bad and ended up good. It's the obligatory New-Yorkers-to-the-rescue scene, in which a battered and barely conscious Spider-Man is menaced by Doc Ock on the subway. As Doc Ock boards the train, and begins to move toward Spidey, he's cut off by an overweight Italian guy in a track suit (obviously a man with Cosa Nostra connections):

WISEGUY: You want him, you're gonna hafta go through me.
OLD GUY: And me.
YOUNG GIRL: Me, too.

Doc Ock looks at them, smiling.

DOC OCK: Very well.


King Arthur

There aren't enough bad things to say about this movie. Mix lackluster casting with poor writing and paint-by-numbers direction, and you'd have a better movie than this one. The armor and equipment are all wrong, the peasants look like they were rented from Medieval Movies R Us, the costumes were apparently designed by a gay hairdresser -- they must have been, because the gay hairdresser obviously wasn't working on the actors' hair, which almost uniformly looked like an attempt to consume the world's remaining supply of Jheri Curl.

How bad is this movie? Stellan Skarsgaard couldn't rescue it, that's how bad it is. How bad is this movie? It makes Keira Knightley look bad; that's how bad it is.

And I haven't even touched on the clearly anti-Christian agenda of the screenwriter, David Franzoni, who demonstrates a startling command of ancient history by saying things like "Christians weren't mistreated under Marcus Aurelius" (interview about Gladiator in Creative Screenwriting magazine, July 2000) -- no, Marcus Aurelius merely allowed anyone who ratted out suspected Christians to keep their homes and property for themselves. In King Arthur, Christians are shown as cowardly, corrupt torturers of commoners -- except for the brave Arthur, a follower of Pelagius. According to Franzoni, Pelagius was a good man who preached the liberation of men; in fact, he was a heretic who denied the most basic teachings of the Christian faith. To Franzoni, then, the only good Christian is someone who claims to be a Christian but doesn't actually believe any Christian doctrine.

An aside: in Franzoni's script, Pelagius is excommunicated and killed as a heretic. In fact, he was excommunicated, but there is no record of his death, and he probably died a natural death sometime after 418; there are reports he was alive as late as 425. This sort of playing fast and loose with the facts was a theme to be continued in the next movie I saw:


Fahrenheit 9/11

Uh... is this a joke? Is there really anyone who takes this hodgepodge of distortions, half-truths, and outright lies as any sort of documentary?

Those distortions, half-truths, and outright lies are too numerous to document here. A few of the most trivial ones:

1. Fox News Channel actually called Florida for Gore (at about 8pm) before they called it for Bush (after 2am). The Bush cousin said to work for FNC's election desk was working with two or three other people, all of whom were Democrats; and their call of Florida for Bush was a unanimous decision.

2. The Secret Service does provide security to any embassy that requests it. Why was Michael Moore harrassed by the guards in the movie? Could it have been because he was videotaping an official building, one of the terrorism warning signs we've been told to watch for?

3. Yes, George H. W. Bush (41) was on the board of directors of the Carlyle Group, which once upon a time owned the defense contractor BDM. But Carlyle sold BDM five months before Bush joined its board.

Oh, forget it. I can't be bothered with this crap. Go read Christopher Hitchens' excellent critique at Slate.com as a brief introduction to the science of tearing this ridiculous movie apart. Then realize that Hitchens barely scratches the surface.


I, Robot

Neither as good as it could have been nor anywhere near as bad as I expected. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed this one.

The movie does a good job as a sort of Matrix prequel, one that shows how machines might conceivably gain control over humanity granted:

1. Unregulated, self-aware AI
2. Automated manufacture of robots equipped with or directed by AI

The movie's central image comes directly from Asimov's story "Elvex," about a robot who begins to dream. The final shot in the film is the realization of that robot's dream. Of course, things turned out quite a bit better for the robot in the movie than they did for the one in the story.

And I'm no Will Smith fan, but he did a very decent job.


The Village

I'm torn on this one. Without giving anything away for those who might still want to go see it, I must say that I found the big twist utterly unconvincing on a pyschological level (why would they do that? Aren't there easier ways to achieve the same result?) and the entire thing plays on two or three (very low-key) emotional notes. The dialogue, too, comes across as someone trying too hard -- though this may have been intentional.

Still, it's beautifully photographed, and the scene of the creature's "attack" on the village, with Bryce Dallas Howard standing at the door with her hand out, was wonderful. Still, it's a down note to end the summer on.

I want to see Collateral tonight.

Summer's dead. I'm back, just finishing up my first week at work. Pre-planning this week; no kids except at the open house last night.

The kids come next week. Our numbers are huge right now; we're looking at over 30 kids in each class. Fellow conservatives: Every time you say "money isn't the answer to education problems," it makes me want to force you to walk a mile in my shoes and see exactly how much the answer to our education problems is money. Money, in this case, for enough desks to seat all the kids in my classes; if they all show up, they're going to be sitting in the floor.

Oh, and money would be good for other little amenities I lack right now. Such as textbooks. You know, little things.

And more teachers to reduce class sizes down to a manageable level. Like, say, 30 in each class instead of 41.