Week 10

How I organize and keep track of my reading week to week

Sunday, November 2nd marks the beginning of Week 10. I've been doing this doctoral thing for 10 week. It feels like both an eternity and like only two weeks has gone by. The semester is 14 weeks long, plus the last week of exams. My last classes are the week of December 1st. I have an exam on Friday, December 12th. It may sound like I'm looking forward to the end of the semester. Yes, I am.

However, when I calculate that there are only four weeks left (my final papers are all due on December 2nd) and one of those weeks is Thanksgiving, I do feel a little panic. How in the world am I supposed to finish all of these long-term project papers I've been working on? There is so much more to learn to be able to incorporate into these papers. (You can refer back to the limits of my knowledge post here.) Lately it has felt like reading and writing to keep up with learning. Or learning to keep up with writing and reading to keep up with learning. One of my classmates shared this feeling out loud on Tuesday. He said, "I am trying to know enough to be able to write about something I don't know enough about." That about sums it up.

My Half Japanese Word Document

So I'm typing away in a Word document, cutting and pasting with my track changes turned on. I'm working on a long literature review that will evolve into a mini-proposal for one of my classes. (I have to eventually try to describe how I might go about researching my topic. For example, "I will use surveys and quantitative analysis to test my hypothesis that ..." I know, super exciting, right!?!)

Yes, so, typing away, cutting and pasting and {blip} up pops a strange track change that has nothing to do with what I just did. Um. Okay. Thanks word document for reminding me that I'm half-Japanese? And also, my font choice is actually Times New Roman, because that is what APA requires.

The Fall

The big tree next to our garage bares its arms

I've been tracking the leaves on the trees next to our house, and also certain trees on campus. Their brilliant colors are starting to dull, and one tree on campus has all but lost its leaves. Each autumn, I never cease to be amazed at the colorful and rapid change that happens. That one gust of wind can transform the look and feel of an entire street when leaves scatter all over the ground and branches once full, are now bare. Here in Michigan the colors are much more opaque, and when the leaves fall it's like dried paint flecks, red, yellow, orange, on the sidewalks. (Minus the toxicity and staining, but with added crunch).

I'm learning to be here in this place. I hear myself say that I am far from home a lot, and I'm sure in the coming months as I settle more deeply into the midwest, I will say things like, "it feels good to be home."

The Creative Process

In my cohort of first-years, there is a mix of students who are working full-time while attending
classes, and those, like me, who have an assistantship and take a full load of classes. Last week, I confided in a classmate of mine who is working full-time that "I think I have the best assistantship." Apart from the actual duties of my job (which are much like my previous job in Seattle, that of grant writer extraordinaire) I get to work for Jim who is probably the most laid-back, friendly, supportive, and swears at just the right ratio of intellectualism to casual conversation type of faculty. 

Grad assistants are assigned throughout Erickson Hall, which is where the college of education is. I am on the fourth floor, in a space called "The Cube" because it's basically a doorway into a cubicle of desks. In The Cube, there are two relics posted on opposite sides of the wall. The first, nearest the door, is a schedule of when NOT to go to Sparty's. (Sparty's being the snack counter on the first floor). Apparently there was a study done by a couple of doctoral students a few years ago, who timed when Sparty's is most busy. They posted their findings so we all now know when to avoid it. Say, I have a hankering for a bag of peanuts or a Cliff bar. Before I head downstairs, I glance at the Sparty's sheet. The time is 1:30pm. Sparty's sheet says the counter is busy between 1:15 and 1:35, so I wait another 10 minutes. And sure enough, all clear.

The second relic is closer to the back of The Cube where I usually sit, and is an extremely accurate pie chart on the creative process. I find this extremely helpful, especially when I know my own writing and creative process falls within this normal range.

The Aftermath

Sibling rivalry. That is what Michigan State University and University of Michigan have. The big sibling rivalry game happened over the weekend. I didn't watch it, but my neighbors did, and they celebrated our win until about 3 in the morning. What I have learned about Big 10 sports since arriving in Lansing, is that the biggest rivalry sits between University of Michigan and Ohio State, (Or, rather THE Ohio State University). MSU does have some rivalry with Michigan, but apparently it's nothing compared to the hatred shared between Michigan and Ohio State.

However there is spirit about any big football match here in Lansing. While riding my bike on Sunday, the day after the big game, through campus, I could see the aftermath of the game. So many bags of garbage. But at least they were all tied up and in heaps all over the lawns on campus. I also had the pleasure of riding past an enormous frat house, with a car out front painted in Michigan blue and yellow, burned out and smashed.

While riding back home about 5:30 (after my study group), back through campus, everything was cleaned up. MSU grounds were back to their lovely autumn lawns and leaves. Not only does MSU know how to party, they know how to keep it clean.

Bilbo is a Quant Hobbit Because He Solves Riddles

I don't normally fuss over details. Take my approach to hanging pictures, for example. If it looks about center, then it's probably center. I'll just go ahead and hammer a nail in, because I don't like to waste time measuring. Likewise, years ago, I noticed that my front tire of an old bike seemed a little askew. So I just grabbed a hammer and banged on it until it stopped making that sssshusssssshing sound against my brake pads when I pedaled. Or take the time I decided not to carefully read the recipe on a box of brownies. I saw a word that started with V and thought, "huh, that's weird, vinegar, whatever." Turns out it was for vegetable oil.

What I can't miss the details on, however, is my quantitative methods class. And there is some kind of strange satisfaction I get from concentrating on little greek letters to solve equations. And looking at tables, and neatly penciling in how I computed the problem. And drawing graphs and bell curves. I love it. I have graph paper. There are some things I do fuss over, and I feel transported sometimes when I do my statistics homework. It's like a riddle, and I piece together the clues to answer the question. I bet if Bilbo Baggins had to write a dissertation, it would be a quantitative one.

In Stride with the Marching Band

Scarf Up for the Chilly Ride!

It was a cold and dry, half sunny day today. I spent a few hours on campus doing some reading, and I had to meet with my supervisor, Jim. I don't really know what to call Jim, I used to refer to him as my assistantship leader person, then I would just say, "Jim, the faculty member who I am assigned to for my assistantship", then I heard someone refer to their assistantship leader person as "supervisor" so I decided to do so as well. (Although I chatted with a couple of 2nd years today and I used "supervisor" and they didn't know what I was talking about. Then I explained the whole conundrum of not knowing what to refer to Jim as, and one responded, "Oh yeah, I call Marilyn my Major Professor. I don't know why." So I'm not the only one who doesn't know how to refer to the faculty that we are assigned to.)

ANYWAY. When I leave campus around the 5 or 5:30 hour like I did today, one of the best parts is riding past the marching band as they practice. It's actually really exciting! I love seeing them practice, with the flag team, and they're all
marching and in formation. Nothing quite like hearing pop tunes with drum roll.

My Land Grant University Bouquet

Bought and then promptly eaten

If you don't already know, Michigan State University is a land grant university. There are several benefits of being at a land grant institution. The campus is beautiful (I often see people snapping photos of the changing leaves) there is a diversity of resources, and the enormity of the campus makes me feel like I go to a wholly different land when I get there. One great thing about MSU is that there is a student run organic farm. And it's no small enterprise. They have a bonafide CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) program. A big one.

Although I haven't signed up for it (I was planning to but learned that it would provide way too much produce for my small household) I do take advantage of the farm stand on campus. It's there every Thursday, and I gotta say, that is some serious quality.

Just Like Home!

I've been lucky the last few times I've ridden home from campus. Just beating a big thunderstorm, or leaving just after a rain shower. I didn't have such luck yesterday.

You know the routine, I have class on Mondays (quantitative methods, and the results are in, I did better than I thought on the exam) and I stayed after just a bit to chat with a classmate. I knew the weather was going to turn at about 5pm, but I also knew that I've been fortunate when it comes to the weather.

So we chatted, we ate some pretzels, then we walked outside where it was pouring down rain. I exclaimed, "ERGH!" And he responded, "Oh no! Did you ride your bike? I can give you a lift home" to which I said, "Oh it's okay, it's only rain, it's just like home." and then I repeated, "JUST LIKE HOME? I mean, I AM home. Where am I? ERGH!" It was raining like Seattle.

Follow the Yellow Line

At the main MSU library, there are two wings. East and west. I usually study in the wast wing when I need silence, because it is designated for silent study only. I use the west wing to stand up at a computer because there are taller counters there. However the west wing is where I have to deal with the dreaded Undergrad. Ugh. I know I was one of those Undergrads once, and I'm sure I was just as annoying. But wow, they can be annoying.

Another place I have learned to find my way around is the fourth floor of the East wing. That is where most of the education stacks are. There are two things I look forward to when I have to check out a book, following the line on the floors to lead me to the section I need, and hoping that I get to move one of the mechanical stacks to squeeze between an open aisle.

The Elements of Style

I have a writing coach. No, he's not my husband. His name is Doug, and I've met with him three times. He's wonderful.

One of the great things about being a student in the College of Education are the vast resources available to me. Since starting school, I feel that I have two main objectives (and you've heard them coupled before) reading & writing. I guess there is some arithmetic in there for now. However the main objectives are really reading & writing. Since I can't have a coach to help me speed read, I avail myself to the College writing coach. I, along with other doctoral students, can send Doug papers and he'll review them. Doug is like my personal Strunk and White, he provides me with my Elements of Style. And he always points out my split infinitives. I'm sorry verb, for having my adverbs always cut in line ahead of you! AND, he knows the specific page number of where to find a specific kind of citation in the APA Manual, 6th edition. Even he admitted today, "Yeah, I go a little overboard. Anyway, what I'm referring to can be found on page 62."

A Second Bike Story

I had a couple of meetings on campus today, and the weather is so superb here in Michigan that riding my bike to campus is even more enjoyable than usual. The main road that takes me straight into campus is Kalamazoo, it's three blocks from my house. There is a bike lane, and once I cross under the expressway and enter into East Lansing, the trees get closer together, the River Trail that goes from East Lansing to Old Town Lansing pops up on the road, and the buzz of school starts to tickle at my toes. Here is a photo of the transition area along Kalamazoo, before I roll by the campus apartments and then into the Harrison street entrance of campus.

Late Night Snacks

It's been a long day. I couldn't get my study mojo on. And I felt uninspired. I wondered what I was doing, spending all day reading and writing. I felt tired. Not sleepy tired, but tired of "all of this" which is school work. I realized " all of this" was going to stretch on for another 4 years. So I watched some online television and zoned out for a while.

Later in the evening I decided to read a little bit for an upcoming literature review. I found an article that I had downloaded last week which I had forgotten about, and finding it tonight was the deep breath that I needed. I felt inspired, I heard myself hum a lot during my reading. I won't go into the details of the article, but I will add that it felt meaningful. Academic publishing sometimes feels forced, maybe meaningless, then there are those gems that really speak on so many levels, and I found one of those gems tonight.

I'm enjoying a late night snack, food and thought. I got one big draught of literature into my head before the night ends. Pistachios and higher education. Yum and yum.

Frederik Meijer is Not Fred Meyer

This is what happens when you forget to bring your
own bag to Meijer. You get a gazillion plastic bags. 

Just one of the challenges about moving to a completely different state is adjusting to buying groceries. While growing up in Oregon, there was a comforting grocery store called Fred Meyer. It was the one-stop-shopping headquarters where one could find food, clothes, housewares, electronics, garden supplies, etc. When I moved to Seattle I missed the joys of one-stop-shopping, until a a big Fred Meyer opened up near my neighborhood in 1999. I was back to one-stop-shopping.(Admittedly, there was a Fred Meyer in Seattle that at the time I didn't consider a true Fred Meyer because it didn't sell food, until last year). 

Imagine my surprise when I learned there was a store here called Meyer. Everyone shops at Meyer! Could it be that Michiganders don't call it Freddies like we do out west, and instead call it Meyer? I was over the moon. I went grocery shopping there, and even though it was spelled Meijer, I was convinced that it was the same Fred Meyer, my childhood friend who sold my family groceries, here in Lansing. I learned that the Michigan Meijer was actually Frederik Meijer. He has a huge garden near Grand Rapids and was apparently a philanthropist. Fred was a Midwest philanthropist? They had to be the same!! I decided to Google it. 

Needless to say, Fred Meyer and Frederik Meijer are not the same person. Even so, they do have the same grocery store philosophy. Meijer is expansive, and one can find food, clothes, housewares, electronics, garden supplies, etc. 

You Will Only be Quizzed on Material from Class

There aren't many exams as a doctoral student. There is one really big exam at the end of my second year, called comprehensive exams (or comps), and there is the grilling I will get when I present and defend my dissertation. Today, however, I took a mid-term exam in my quantitative methods class. I spent all day on Sunday creating what I am calling my stat-scrapbook. It's a notepad with cut-outs and equations, and colors to help me remember things. I actually enjoyed making it, and not just because I got out the magic markers. Unfortunately, I have a terrible characteristic, which I call "Cindy Syndrome". If you've ever seen the episode of the Brady Bunch when Cindy goes on the TV quiz show (that would be Season 4, Episode 22, "You Can't Win 'Em All), then you'll know what I'm talking about. That's right, I, like Cindy, was very prepared for this exam. At least I felt I was. I knew most of the material, and was confident in my computation ability. The exam was even open note, so I had the comfort of my stat-scrapbook next to me on my desk. But right when my professor said, "Flip over the exam and start. You've got two hours to complete it." I froze. My forehead starting sweating, my heart beat faster, and my hands were shaking. I'm not exaggerating.

Fortunately, I get to do this again at the end of the semester.

The Park That Must Not Be Named

Unbelievably, I went for a jog this morning. (Okay, it was a really short one, but it was a jog in the least) There are a lot of county parks within a 15 minute drive of my house, and after a couple of Sundays of exploring, I decided to do some trail running. I used to really love trail running, and it never really fell out of favor with me, I just never took the time for it in recent years. Now in Lansing, running on the roads is even more unappetizing, so I've decided to hit the trails! Woldumar Nature Center is about 12 minutes away, with trails looping all around and only a donation request of one dollar to use. (All county parks in Lansing are $3 to enter). I've been calling it Voldemort in my head, or rather, "the park that must not be named." It was about 40 degrees this morning, but the sun was shining and the frost on the grass and leaves made the morning sparkle. I hope to make this my Sunday morning churchy ritual.

Reflections While in Action

Brilliant Campus

The campus library is about 2.5 miles away. Today was a beautiful fall day, a cool 57 degrees with full sun, so I decided to walk instead of my usual bike ride. Walking gave me some head space to break from the paper I've been working on and
enjoy the scenery, and just breathe. In addition to my regular reading for classes, I've been reading a lot about professional education, practitioner faculty, and a theory called "reflection-in-action." This is all connected to a proposal I need to submit at the end of the semester (of which I am focusing my research on full-time faculty and part-time faculty issues for graduate programs of nonprofit management - you don't think I'd leave my nonprofit world!) and it's quite interesting. Two years ago I purchased a book where this theory originates, but I never read it. Maybe I bought it to build out my library or look smart, but now I'm glad I did because it's full of interesting things. How we learn, our tacit knowledge, how we change and adapt while in the midst of problems and challenges. I feel at home in the reading, I recognize myself there. The walk was my own kind of action while reflecting. I wasn't being reflexive, per se, but I was able to filter my thoughts and concentrate them only on - walking. What a nice brain break.

The Limits of My Knowledge

Another Blalock appears to have
overcome knowledge limits

It's just past 10pm. An hour ago I said I would stop reading. Then I kept glancing at little snippets. I've been working mostly since around 8:30 this morning, (with a little break in the day to go to the hardware store) and it just feels like I've done nothing. I am feeling the limits of my knowledge. I have a couple of papers due next week, and another longer review the following week, and another another another for my assistantship, and I feel somewhat lost.

Over the past 6 weeks I have been absorbing and reading and writing and solving statistical computations and theorizing and analyzing. And and and. And the knowledge limits. I hear you knowledge limits. Loud and clear.

How to Organize a Dining Table

When I was a kid, the dining room table in my house had neat stacks of books and papers covering it almost entirely. I think we called it mom's desk. My mom was a teacher, and the expanse of the dining table was her surface to grade papers and write lesson plans. It probably also provided her with her own personal space. A place that was solely hers. I remember distinctly the neat piles, like the low buildings of Washington, DC, placed in perpendicular patterns all around the table.

Now I know where I get it from.

I have commandeered our dining table. We do have an office, which I use occasionally when my computer becomes too tiny to work on. (Big fancy monitor in the office!) But I mostly sit here. With my tidy piles around me. It's comforting and reminiscent. And just the right way for me to work.

One Bike Story

My trusty steed

I think I've biked more miles here in Michigan since August than I did the entire rest of the year in Seattle. (the lack of hills here helps a lot.)

On Mondays, I have a class from 2-5pm. I always ride my bike to campus because it's free, and it allows for some brain clearing time. My ride is short, only about 12 minutes. And flat. Regardless, I enjoy it and know that I'm not doing it for exercise. This past Monday, I rode to class, knowing that there could be rain later in the day. So I packed some rain pants. The weather here in Lansing moves in fast. And it changes the temperature sometimes quite drastically because the weather is coming off of the great lakes. (So cool, right? Weather off the great lakes!?) Forecast for Monday, thunderstorms around 5pm.

All during class I've been looking out the window, trying to predict when that thunderstorm will come. Finally class ends, and I fast walk to my bike, look up in the sky, and see a streak of lightening in the distance (about two miles away.) I hurriedly pack my things up on my bike and roll out. I see two streaks of lightening and I start peddling as fast as I can. Three other bikers join onto the same road I'm on and we are hauling. And I mean HAULING ASS. It was a 7 minute sprint on my bike with thunder overhead, lightening getting closer and closer, and a darkening sky.

I screamed into our driveway feeling slightly wild, and about one minute later. Hail storm. Power outage.

It was exhilarating.

The Nooks and Crannies

Personal Space

It's been exactly two months since I arrived here in Lansing. The house is mostly put together, there is one room that is the "just put it in the back room" room. Two nights ago I did try to get it to some state of livability, but I ended up just taking everything out and then putting it all back in.  Then I closed the door.

The rest of the house is home. Coming to a new place, a new land and a completely different landscape (and time zone) altered my sense of self and place. I always believed that having a sense of place was important, however I don't know that I've ever experienced being place-less like I did when I came to Michigan. So putting the house together was a top priority. I need those nooks and crannies, and sides of the bed, and curated bookshelves, and "we keep the mugs to the right of the sink on the second shelf". We're making little personal spaces for ourselves here. Mine mostly consist of stacks of books on flat surfaces. It is home, nonetheless.

It's 10:21pm

It's 10:21, and I just got home. I'm awake. And tired. And awake. On tap tonight during class one? History of American Higher Education, specifically, between the years 1945 and 1970. On tap for class two? Organizational theory, specifically, professional bureaucracy. I know, it's so fascinating you want to keep reading! I won't bore you, but I will tell you I love it. History and theory wrapped up into two back-to-back classes?!?

Smashed between these classes is dinner time, and I have made it a habit to join about 8 others in my cohort at the International Center, where there is a kind of food court (Panda Express, anyone?). It's a nice way for me to get to know some of my fellow students, and laugh some about the busy-ness of our lives. I also swing by Sparty's and get me a cup of coffee to for class two. And no, that's not why I'm awake right now.

The Longest Day of the Week

There are two things in the house that are the loudest when everything else is quiet. The ticking of the clock in the dining room area, and the buzzing of the light above the table. These are my muses.

The routine: wake up early, get a cup of coffee, flip open the computer, read the news for 5 minutes, start working. This happens almost everyday, except on Tuesdays I add: prepare myself for the longest day of the week.

Two classes occur, back to back. All first year PhD students go through this. It's like a doctoral hazing ritual. Class one starts at 3pm, finishes at 6pm. Class two starts at 7pm, finishes at 10pm. There is a little hour in there to have dinner and uncross my eyes a bit before launching into class two. And of course the best part about having class until 10pm? When I get home, feeling so brain tired, I am suddenly super amped and can't go to sleep until 1am.

Low Levels of Anxiety

Today, I woke up early. I'd been grinding my teeth all night, so the soreness in my jaw coupled with the wakefulness I'd been feeling all night tossing and turning made getting out of bed a little easier. I turned over, looked at my clock/phone, and turned my alarm off. Then walked downstairs to coffee and the hum of low levels of anxiety.

Most mornings I fill my mug with coffee, add some milk, flip open my computer and sit down to scan the news. This takes all of 5 minutes until the low levels hum a little louder so I click open a word document, crack open a book and start reading and taking notes. This morning, it was more writing than reading. I have two papers due next week, a large grant report due on Friday, 200+ pages to read starting tomorrow, and a midterm exam in quantitative methods fast approaching. To top it off I need to read through about 20 hours of lecture notes so that I can competently contribute to the writing of a chapter in a book on higher education, of which I know little. When I list it all out, it doesn't seem like much. It seems doable. Then I remember how I work, and low levels start building to medium levels.

I am a slow worker. I am not a procrastinator, because I become apathetic. I do not feel motivated as the deadline approaches, I feel fear and the desire to quit. If I don't have something complete at least 24 hours before it is due, then I have decided there are better things to do with my life than stay up late and work. I've often heard myself say, "If it was so important to me, I would have started it by now. So I'm not going to do it at all." I front load my anxiety because I fear apathy, that tipping point when I give up and decide I just wasn't cut out to turn something in on time. So even though most of my deadlines are 5 days away, I feel an urgency to do them all now. NOW. I am so slow. For every 5 page paper that is due, I've written 15 because it takes me that many to figure out what I'm doing. I also stare a lot. And think with my eyes fixed on whatever object is 10 feet in front of me. Lamp. Front door knob. Stack of books on the floor. Kevin.

Now, it is late. I do have a stopping point for rest, and tonight after working about 10 hours on one paper I think I can call it a first draft. (well, maybe a second draft since I had to delete 8 pages in order to stay under the 7 page limit.)