The End of Boot Camp and Some Good Advice

About 6 weeks ago I wrote about starting FSU’s First-Year Composition Summer Boot camp (you can read about it here). I finally finished boot camp and am coming up for air. We have a 3 weeks between boot camp and the first day of classes, so I’m hoping to catch up on my own writing, finish furnishing my apartment, and make it out the beach (I’m in Florida after all).

Boot camp ended up being a really good experience for me. A lot of the theory that we read hasn’t totally sunk in yet, but I know that once I’m in the classroom and have my own experiences that I can use to converse with the pedagogy, it’ll all start to click. On a more practical level it was really great to get experience teaching a few lessons and classes in a summer semester comp class, meet and get to know the other graduate students, and to get time to work on my e-portfolio (you can see the early version of my portfolio here).

Perhaps the most useful part of boot camp, though, was the advice passed on to us from the more experienced TAs. I can’t vouch for it all yet, since I’ve only spent a few lessons in front of a classroom, but I wanted to share what I think will end up being the most useful advice we were given:

• · Be honest, but not too honest: It’s ok to say you made a mistake or didn’t know something—it’ll make your students more likely to do the same. But you don’t need to tell them it’s your first time teaching, how young you are, or what you’re doing over the weekend.
• · Take your teaching seriously, but remember to put your own studies first: It’s easy for teaching to take up all your time. Don’t let it. You need to set limits and remember you can’t do everything.
• · Don’t micro-manage: You can’t fix all the writing problems you see—focus on the big picture not the individual commas. You don’t have time to do it all.
• · Not everyone loves writing as much you do: You can’t convert everyone.
• · Stay true to who you are: Nothing will lose you respect in the classroom as quickly as being a fraud. Be you. It can be an animated version of you or a stricter version of you. But it should ultimately be you.
• · Your students aren’t your friends: They need a teacher far more than they need another friend.
• · Know when to refer your students to others: University writing centers and counseling centers are there for the students to use. If something comes up that is out of your expertise tell them where they can go for help.
• · Write down everything in your syllabus/course policy sheet: If it’s there on paper in black and white, students can’t get away with claiming they didn’t understand or didn’t know.
• · Be confident in your grades: You do know what an A paper looks like (and a B, C, D, etc). But there will always be some students that argue. Have a rubric so you can explain it to them. And remember they won’t lose a scholarship or flunk out of school because of just your class, but you’re probably the only grade they’re arguing. So be confident.
• · Always keep a couple of exercise, quick lessons, or activities in your back pocket: You never know when a discussion or activity might fall flat or finish up a lot quicker than you anticipated. It’s good to have some back-ups to fill up class time or pull the energy level back up.
• · Think of your students as intelligent young adults: They’re not kids anymore and they’re not your children. Treat them like adults, and keep an appropriate distance.
• · Don’t forget to take care of yourself: Grad school is hard. You’ll be busy. But don’t forget to go to the doctor, eat your meals, get sleep, and make time to do the things you enjoy.

Hope this helps some of you. I’d love to hear what kind of advice the rest of you have gotten.

Summer Boot Camp!

While most incoming MFA students this year are busy finishing up their jobs, spending time with old friends, and enjoying their summers, I’ve spent the last week in boot camp.

Most other programs either have some teacher training during orientation or train students during their first semester. But Florida State University is one of the few schools, if not the only, that has an extended summer training session for TAs, affectionately known as boot camp.

When I first found out that I would have to leave my job earlier than anticipated and not have any time off between work and school I wasn’t too happy. But the closer and closer I got to starting my training session the more I realized how relieved I was to be getting these 6 weeks of training before being tossed into a Freshman Comp class of my own.

FSU’s boot camp is designed for all English Graduate students with TAships who have less than 1 full year of college teaching experience. This year’s crew includes 30 incoming Masters and PhD students in Literature, Rhetoric and Composition, and Creative Writing: a diverse, intelligent, and quirky bunch.

We’re only a week in, but already things have been very busy. Between two pedagogy classes (one on general theory and one more specific to the classes we’ll be teaching) and an internship in a summer term freshmen comp class, there is a lot of reading, a lot of assignments, and a lot of class time. But there are also been parties, lunches, and faculty readings to attend.

It’s proving to be a really great transition period for me. Getting used to homework and managing my own time without traditional office hours has been a challenge (Homework or nap? Nap or homework?) But I’m glad I’m having a chance to get back into the swing of things now before the semester starts. Another perk has been the assigned reading of the books we’ll be using in the fall. Having lesson plans and readings as a priority now will inevitably make fall term much easier. And though I’m still nervous about teaching, I at least feel like I’ll have the right support, particularly all the current TA’s we’ve been meeting with and learning from.

At FSU all first year TAs teach First Year Composition. We have the option of picking one of several “strands” which come with syllabus outlines and assignment suggestions. The strand system is a great one for first year teachers. It gives us enough of a built in structure to make sure that there is consistency across freshmen comp. But it also gives us a lot of flexibility in picking a strand that works for us and in adapting it in ways that allow us to develop and compliment our own teaching style and interests. I already have my eye on a strand with a creative writing emphasis. We also have the option of designing our own strands and special topics to teach after our first year.

It’s been a whirlwind of a week so far. But despite my struggle to get used to having homework again, boot camp has been a lot more fun than its name implies.

Unfunded in the MFA

I haven't posted in a long, long time. In fact, I haven't written a single post since I've actually been in my MFA program. Why? In the beginning, it was because I was so busy trying to get my footing that I never had a moment to post. The first few months were a dream: I met so many new and enthralling writers (both my peers, professors, and writers from outside the Mason community), I took engaging and wonderful classes, I wrote 79 poems in one semester for my "79 Works" class (no big deal), and I felt like I was in the right place.

Then, winter hit. November, December, the dark months. In the flurry of getting ready for the semester end, I started thinking about what was coming ahead. I had to prepare for another difficult process. Having come to George Mason unfunded, I knew that a long-and-hard battle for funding was coming up.

George Mason invites it's continuing students the chance to apply for a teaching assistantship in their second year. For those of us who are unfunded, we know it's going to be a painful, uphill battle. Dissatisfaction sets in. Fear sets in. We start to panic and wonder whether we'll be able to stay in the program for two more years without funding. Back-up plans are made. I started hoarding all my money, trying not to go out as much. I stopped buying unnecessary books, clothing, food, etc. I started to think about getting a full-time job and going to school part time. This process does terrible things to a person. I started to think about leaving, moving back home, starting over again.

And then the TA officially process began. In a desperate bid for an unknowable number of spots, about a dozen of us applied. We interviewed, we worried, we got ulcers, we had panic attacks. We cried about it, we wrote about it, we drank about it. And now, finally, after weeks of waiting, we know.

I was offered my TA position over two weeks ago, and since that fateful Thursday afternoon, I have existed in a state of sun-drenched relief. Next year, I'll be tutoring in the Writing Center and preparing to teach Composition and Literature in my third year. I am delighted. And for once I am free from the worries that come with finances, the insecurity that comes with not knowing how I'm going to continue on this path. I will no longer have to work roughly thirty hours a week on top of my class load. Starting in the fall, I'll be a fully-funded MFAer. I can't believe it.

In accepting my TA position, I exchanged several emails with the program director. In one, he thanked me for my "great bravery" in coming into the program unfunded. I know that right now there are many students about to enter MFA programs without funding. Some people would call that decision stupidity, but I agree that's it's bravery. We can go on and on about how MFAs should be funded, how this degree should cost nothing. And yes, holding out for funding is an option. But for so many others, accepting an unfunded spot can be the RIGHT CHOICE. If I hadn't taken the spot I did, I'd be miserably unemployed in a state (Michigan) whose education system is failing and whose economy is still degenerating. But instead, I'm in a vibrant place with several jobs I love, and the job I've always wanted starting in the fall. And I'm getting the time and support I need to write. For those of us who decide to take the leap, financial consequences be damned, this is an act of bravery, an act of faith. We are making an investment in our lives, our selves, and our futures. There is value in that.

I'll admit, it's easier to say all this from the position of financial security. It's easier to believe it. But that doesn't mean it's any less true. I felt like someone needs to talk about being unfunded: not about the struggle (although it is one) or the stress (lots of that, too), but about the benefits of taking the leap. You're welcome to disagree with me, many do, but for those of you who are out there and unfunded, know that it can one of the best decisions you've made.