Posted in Learning, Studying, Writing

The envelope

My online students, in the days before we went online, used to talk about waiting for ‘the envelope’. Ours were yellow and students would camp at their letter boxes waiting for the big yellow envelope to arrive. Some would leave it sitting on the kitchen bench till they felt strong enough to open it; others would rip it open, eager to see their result.

My first envelope arrived in the post earlier this week and I have to say it was an odd feeling. Partly, I think because of the ways my students (now graduates) used to talk about the arrival of the envelope, and the importance it held for them. It was a validation of them as students, scholars, learners, and sometimes it was even more. It was a validation of themselves. Were they worth anything? Could they do it? Were they cut out for this thing called university? Did they have what it takes? Was university really for people like them?

Many of those students had not been on to the university campus at that stage, or had not been on to the campus often. Many of them didn’t live in the same state as the university; many hadn’t physically met their lecturers, tutors, peers. University was a disembodied experience. An experience that involved sitting at home, on their computer, by themselves, struggling to work out what the task required, having little access to anyone to seek clarification, advice, ideas. Not knowing if they were on the right track.

They did their best, not knowing if they measured up; their whole being invested in this. What if I’m not on the right track? What if I fail? Will that mean I’m a failure?

It’s high stakes.

A few days before my own envelope arrived, I had returned my own students’ assignments – though not in envelopes – and was aware of the emotions involved in receiving feedback and a grade. But I was aware of the emotions as an objective observer: as someone who knew that the students would have an emotional reaction, but not as someone who felt the emotion directly. Some of my students had not met the pass standard, and the emotions varied: some were angry, others were disappointed. Many of them spent the weekend crying. Other students had met the pass standard but had expected the same success as they’d had at college. Their emotions were similar – to them their pass (or credit) felt like a fail.

I had warned students that they might feel this range of emotions and that they might react in particular ways; I had wanted to prepare them and to let them know it is normal to feel a range of emotions … and to be quite honest, to let them know that they weren’t to email me at the height of their emotional response. The “post-assignment-blues” email is not a good one to look back on when the emotion has subsided!

All of this was raging through my head when my own envelope arrived. What if I failed … or just as bad … what if  I only passed?

So when my envelope arrived I felt part of a community – a community of those who knew the importance attached to the envelope – and for the first time I was an insider in this experience. I felt the weight of expectation and the weight of former students’ associations. It was exciting and daunting in equal measure. The assignment was to write a non-fiction piece of around 500-800 words on a topic of our choice. We had to state the purpose and the audience of our piece, and we had to submit two drafts of our writing plus the final copy. We also had to write a statement about the editing process. Suggestions for our writing included CD liner notes (I didn’t know they still existed), a review (of a book, an art work, an exhibition), a newspaper feature article.

I didn’t know how to write any of those things so I wrote a blog entry. And while I wrote about a real-life experience I wrote it a bit story-like (I used elements of narrative writing) and so was uncertain whether the tutor would accept it as non-fiction.

She did.

I enjoyed your blog immensely. It’s rare to receive an error-free assignment; you’ve obviously invested time and effort for this submission. Thank you.

A validation …

… of my capacity to correct errors.

That won’t surprise any of my own students!

I won’t be so scared when the next envelope arrives. Except I can’t remember when the next assignment is due. I really will need to read the unit outline soon!!

Posted in Learning, Writing

Final flower/story challenge day

[Day 7 of seven]

Well, we made it to the end of the week and there have been some terrific stories. Thanks to all those who were brave enough to put themselves out there and write stories, and then post them! Please, if you feel the desire, and you haven’t yet added your contribution, feel free to add your story to any of the days’ challenges. 

Tim asked if I’d write stories too … and I said that I’d post them at the end of the week. Well, that’s today, so here are my contributions.

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Day One

She emerges from the quiet of the exam room into the gloom of late evening. The silence from inside lingers, deepening her mood of contemplative forgetfulness. Her steps slow despite the urgency to be home. The smell of decay whispers to her. With a jolt she remembers, laughs, tears streaming.

Day Two

She is overwhelmed by it. Ornate, golden, speaking of riches in earlier times. Whispers of those who have gone before float through the centuries and her ears buzz with proclamations, judgements, sermons, debates, messages from afar.  This place stops her breath and, laughing at her clichéd self, she shoots again.

Day Three

She sways inside the open front door, denying his news, rocking as she used to as a young mother. The floor provides a sanctuary she never imagined she’d need. She feels more, and much, much less, than she ever imagined she could.

At the end, just one shot.

Gone.

My only one.

It was the end, and the end, and the end.

Her anguish swirls around the empty hills.

Day Four

She clutches them so tightly they tremble in her fist. Mum says, don’t hold them so tight, you’ll make the petals poo, the leaves leak,and the teacher will think you’re a freaky flower geek. A heartbeat, and they collapse under the weight of shared giggles.

Day Five

She laughed her head off, her knees dancing up a storm. It took the floor right out from under her and she fell, head over heels. He had cast a spell, knocked her socks off, turned her to jelly, blew her mind. She didn’t mind. She was hit by cupid’s arrow and willingly gave him her heart.

Day Six

She stood, holding her head at an unfamiliar angle, trying desperately to keep it on. The ceremony was much more solemn and more formal than she had anticipated and as if on cue giggles rose in her throat. She coughed to stop them bursting forth and walked slowly forward. Soon it would be her turn to climb the stairs, hand her card over, walk across the stage, doff, shake, keep walking. A moment to savour.

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Thanks again for your responses and interest.

Posted in Learning, Writing

Flower/story challenge – Day 5

[Day 5 of seven]

Great to see so many taking up the challenge, and sticking with it. I’m thoroughly enjoying reading all the stories and learning about the way people express themselves in this way. I have to admit that I also enjoy posing challenges for you, my valued reader. I’m afraid that I can’t stop being a teacher, and so I will continue to challenge – in an intellectual and creative way.

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Today’s challenge is a simple one. This flower, called a Red Hot Poker, is actually orange. Can you write a story that purports to be about one thing (a colour, an expression, a gesture, a room, an experience) but is actually about something else?

I’ll give you up to 100 words as that might allow you more scope to develop something that will better reflect today’s boundaries. You don’t have to post your first draft – I know that Stephanie is working on her stories without yet posting (but I’m confident that she will) – so feel free to edit, re-work, re-shape.

Enjoy!

Is this the colour pokers get when they’re red hot?
Posted in Learning, Writing

Flower/story challenge

[Day 2 of seven]

Before I start today’s blog I want to say how impressed I am with the stories that emerged from yesterday’s flower-story challenge. They were diverse, succinct, used the boundaries cleverly, and showed imagination and thoughtfulness. Thanks to all those who created a story, I really enjoyed reading them. 

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Character.

Plot.

Setting.

These are the three main characteristics of a story. Many authors will develop characters as the starting point of their novels (and some will go to great lengths to learn as much as they can about their characters), some authors will write plot-driven stories (many authors who write for boys will begin with plot – the action of the story). Fewer authors will start with setting, but some do so to great effect – think Nadia Wheatley and Jeannie Baker.

The challenge today, if you choose to accept it,  is to write a 50-word story with one of those characteristics in mind. Which one will you use as a starting point?

Here’s your flower stimulus … have fun!

Standing proud