Friday, December 31, 2021

Ending another year.

I am ending out 2021 without ever having returned to the blog. After all of the changes of 2020, I had high hopes for 2021. I won't say that it was worse because I don't think that it was. Instead, I will say that it was different. The successes and challenges were different. The second half of the year particularly presented a number of challenges for me, but it also brought a lot of hope as well. I won't get into specifics here but those who know me will be aware of what all of this means.

I do hope to begin posting again in 2022. I'm not sure when, how often, or in what capacity, but I do want to make a return. Be on the lookout. I may eventually finish up some of the series that I have started and begin writing about some new topics. Check back, or just wait for my annoying social media posts.

2021 Books

 I don't write about all of the books that I read.  Here is a list of the books that I read in 2021.

Asimov, Isaac.  Forward the Foundation.
---.  The Complete Robot.
---.  The Caves of Steel.
---.  The Naked Sun.
Christensen, Emma.  Brew Better Beer.
Cline, Ernest.  Ready Player Two.
Corey, James SA.  Babylon's Ashes.
---.  Persepolis Rising.
---.  Tiamat's Wrath.
Cronin, Justin.  The Passage.
DeLillo, Don.  Libra.
Farina, Richard.  Been down so Long it Looks like up to Me.
Frye, Northrop.  Anatomy of Criticism.
Goldberg, Lee Matthew.  Orange City.
Haldeman, Joe.  The Accidental Time Machine.
Halliday, Brett.  Heads You Lose.
Kaku, Michio.  Physics of the Impossible.
King, Stephen.  The Outsider.
Koch, Greg and Matt Allyn.  The Brewer's Apprentice.
Kunath, Brian.  Fearless Brewing: The Beer Maker's Bible.
MacDonald, John D.  The Deep Blue Goodbye.
---.  Man-Trap.
Martinez, A. Lee.  The Automatic Detective.
Mitchell, David.  The Bone Clocks.
Onyebuchi, Tochi.  Riot Baby.
Palmer, John J.  How to Brew.
Powers, Zach.  First Cosmic Velocity.
Robinson, Kim Stanley.  The Ministry for the Future.
---.  Red Mars.
Rowling, JK.  Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
---.  Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Saunders, George.  Lincoln in the Bardo.
Spillane, Mickey.  The Girl Hunters.
Stirling, SM.  Island in the Sea of Time.
Sturtevant, Lynne.  Haunted Marietta.
Wallace, David Foster.  Consider the Lobster.
Watt, James.  Business for Punks.
Wilson, Daniel H.  How to Survive a Robot Uprising.
Woodske, Dan.   A Brewer's Guide to Opening a Nano Brewery.

Thursday, June 24, 2021

After the Quarantine

 This is the text of a talk that I gave at the Working-Class Studies Association conference earlier this month.  This concerns the working conditions of Adjunct Instructors and the shape of virtual pedagogy today.

After the Quarantine: Virtual Pedagogy and Virtual Workspaces in a Post-Pandemic World”

When I sat down to write out the introduction to the presentation that I am going to give today, I realized that it has been about a year and a half since I initially submitted my abstract. Back in January of 2020 we all had hoped to meet together in person in Youngstown but the events of the last year prevented that from happening. Those events have also changed the context of what this paper would have been. I set out to write about the realities of teaching online-only classes for adjunct faculty members and the difficulties that this presents. But then pretty much all of us turned into online-only teachers and a lot of what I was going to say became very obvious to everyone. Of the two main points that I wanted to touch on from that abstract, one of these has been completely obviated by the pandemic that quarantined all of us. The other point, though, is more valid now than when I originally sat down to plan my abstract and it is about the interplay of virtual pedagogy and adjunct labor. This paper, originally about the virtual space that adjuncts must occupy on the edge of the academic world will now, itself, occupy a liminal space. As I worked on this presentation today, I found myself bouncing between the paper that this would have been had I presented it in Youngstown a year ago and what it is today.

Here are the two points I originally wanted to make: first, adjunct teaching is often an under-resourced and thankless job and it is easy to fall under the radar. This is made worse by teaching online only because we are also absent from campus and miss out on a lot of the opportunities to network and maintain important peer relationships that on-site teachers have.  We must also use our own resources to perform the work without any compensation for this.  Here I mean things like electricity, internet access, and the like.  I think that most teachers have felt this way after a year-plus of online teaching so I will not really address this point today.

The second point is less obvious but isn't much of a stretch to get to: adjunct teaching, and teaching online only presents a bind that looks like an opportunity for many academics who hold down multiple jobs. Many academics such as myself teach online in order to keep current teaching experience and avoid gaps in our CVs. Many are trying to earn a living by patching together multiple part-time positions while trying to wrangle the job market and find a full time appointment. The flexibility of asynchronous teaching allows us to take on other work to supplement our incomes. This flexibility also looks like an opportunity to do the necessary work to build our CVs such as attending conferences and publishing, but the work we do whether it is in the classroom or in our other jobs generally is enough to keep many of us from being able to do this as much as we would like. The allure of the freedom to continue teaching while pursuing other work and earn extra money ultimately ends in a narrowing of opportunities that works to keep these instructors in adjunct positions, or to make the decision to leave academics completely.

My original paper would have outlined many of the details of this bind and would have offered some suggestions for overcoming this difficulty.  But instead I want to veer a little off course from my original plan. Instead of talking about the nature of online adjunct teaching and the difficulties that this presents, I want to expand my scope to discuss the nature of virtual pedagogy and to take a look at the future of education.  I think that this is important because this is a crucial moment in which we can take the time to rethink how we interact with our colleagues and to re-examine some of the values that we have taken for granted in higher education. This is a moment to push past limiting views of what virtual pedagogy should be to think about what virtual pedagogy could be.

Prior to the pandemic, I had worked myself into a niche with my online teaching experience. I taught my first online courses in 2010 and have been teaching online only since 2015 and I have learned a lot from having to revise my curriculum to meet the needs of my virtual classroom. At this point, I have taught scores, if not hundreds, of students whom I have never met face-to-face, and would never know if they were to pass me in the street. Yet we have shared a space together and worked together. They have told me about important things in their lives and I have told them about myself. I have endeavored to gain their trust and to build rapport through the course structure and the public and private communications that we shared. I have developed some specific strategies for doing this that have helped immensely.

I think that my transition to teaching online has largely been successful and I have become a better teacher for having to re-evaluate some of my assumptions about learning and communicating expectations. But for all of this, online teaching always had a cloud over it.  Some of my students did poorly because they were unable to manage their time the same way that they would in a traditional classroom.  They didn’t feel the same sense of accountability because they didn’t have to walk into a physical classroom and tell a real person that they hadn’t done their work.  Others took my classes because they thought it would be easy since it was online and “not a real class.”  I know this because some of them have admitted this in their end of semester evaluations. In those same evaluations, students have commented on the difficulty of my class or expressed surprise at actually learning something.

My students often commented on the workload in my courses and on the number of readings I assigned. One exercise that I use is to provide my students with a forum for offering suggestions to improve the course or to critique parts of the course they find unhelpful. In this forum, students would complain about the number of readings or about the work that I assigned. What they don't know is that I have cut a lot of readings that I would assign in favor of having them produce and express their own ideas. They also didn't know that I have streamlined the writing process so that every assignment that they complete contributes directly to larger projects and guides us toward our learning outcomes. I trimmed out what I have come to think of as extraneous work. In other words, some of my students were unhappy with the amount of work that I asked them to do even though it was less than what I asked my students to do in a more traditional setting.

But here's the thing. The problem wasn't with the work that I was asking them to do. The problem was the work they were being asked to do for an online class. I know this because I have gotten end of semester evaluation with phrases like “for an online class” in them. Students are surprised to learn in an online class, surprised that it can be helpful, surprised that they had to work in one. There was a disconnect for them such that taking a class online was not the same as taking a class in a physical space. And again, I know this because I have had students tell me this. What this indicates to me is that, up until now, we have done a poor job preparing students for the demands of an online class. We haven't shown them that a virtual classroom is a real one even though it is not a physical space.

I want to go back and take a moment to explain the original title because there was a metaphor in it that I was going to use. My paper was originally titled “Navigating the Virtual Zone.” As I worked on the abstract for that original paper, I had the idea of drawing a metaphor from my work. At the time, I was working in a regional distribution warehouse for a national hardware store coop doing inventory and quality control. The specifics of the job are unimportant. But what is important to my way of thinking about it is the way that virtual mapping is used in the warehouse. The WMS (warehouse management system) that we used is actually a layering of systems of varying age.  The warehouse was built in 1977 so all of the inventory was kept on paper and then eventually it moved into computers and as the computers and the programs that the company bought became more sophisticated, they found that it was easier and less expensive to overlay the new programming on top of the old rather than build a new system from scratch.  This lead to gaps between the layers that were only discovered later on.  Eventually, the programs that were built in the 1990s and earlier were unable to keep up with the new order-filling assignment programs that were installed in the 2000s and to bridge this gap, the system constructed “V-zones” or virtual zones that are virtual computer mapping of physical space. It is the stopgap that allows the mainframe to give instructions to workers in a physical space. But the stopgap became a permanent solution.

In my job, I had access to number of these different systems and I had to find ways of using the different systems to find information where there were gaps in one or the other. I became highly aware of the limitations of the overall system because there was no way to navigate it holistically but it had to be approached piecemeal. I adopted the metaphor of the virtual zone for this paper for two reasons. First, the “virtual” nature of the warehouse mapping seemed to match up pretty well with the “virtual” classroom. Both virtual spaces correspond to actual work being done and describe a certain relationship between the physical space and that work being done. Second, and more importantly, I saw the overlay of multiple systems in the WMS as parallel to the expediency-driven stopgap that is virtual teaching. This is not a system that has been built from the ground up to take its unique challenges into account. Instead, it was a thing that was thrust upon many teachers with little to no training. I don't know if we have the ability to undergo a wholesale revamp of higher education in America but we at least need to recognize the overlay of systems and really examine where they do not mesh.

If I have anything like a thesis to argue today, it is this: we are at a critical juncture in our educational careers and in our lives in general. As we move back toward unrestricted life we can choose to return to “pre-pandemic” life, a return to the normalcy where faculty members such as myself find themselves without a place at the table, or we can take this opportunity to recognize that the difficulties that all of us faced during quarantine were not new for many of us. The isolation and disconnect that has lasted for a year for some of us has been an ongoing problem for many of us for much longer than that. We can also extrapolate this to our relationships with our students and use this same isolation as an object lesson in what some of them have felt like for their whole lives. Then, I hope, we can use this to also think about our lives out in the rest of the world. We have to seriously question whether or not “pre-pandemic” is good enough. I don't think that it is. I think that there is an opportunity here to do better and to be better.

Until now, virtual teaching was largely seen as an adjunct to traditional teaching. I use the word “adjunct” very deliberately here because of what its true meaning is and the impact that it has on our colleagues. To be adjunct is to be supplementary. It is, by definition, non-essential. Virtual learning had been non-essential until it wasn't. As so many of us know, adjunct teachers are anything but non-essential. We are the essential workers of the academic world. In the post-pandemic world, we have to question whether or not we can afford to return to this “pre-pandemic” way of thinking. My argument, then, is that we cannot. My argument is simple but it needs to be stated to be clear. I do not think that a return to normalcy is good just as I don't think that all aspects of quarantine-driven changes to education have been bad. In some ways it has caused a reckoning of how others live and work. As I stated above, I think that we can do better. My argument is that we need to continue the work that we have done over the last year in re-thinking our strategies in teaching and our relationships with our peers and students. We need to use this as a starting point and not as a point of return.

In the interest of doing better, I have thought of some suggestions to carry forward with us when we return to our respective campuses and other places of work. These suggestions are based upon a lot of the things that I have been thinking about while working on this paper and sum up some of the difficulties that I think may face us going forward. This list only has four items but I think that this is a start toward being more deliberate in our engagements.

1- Zoom meetings and asynchronous pedagogy have leveled the playing field in some respects. It can mean that students who have difficulty with some subjects or don't know how to ask questions about things they don't understand will have the opportunity to learn in a different modality. Asynchronous teaching specifically can help students to ask the questions that they may find intimidating to ask in class because they are worried about their peers' judgment. We should be ready to embrace these styles of teaching going forward and ask what our connection to the classroom is and what it should be. I still think that the classroom is an important site of learning, but it does not have to be the only site.

2- Think about what participation looks like in different modalities. This doesn't just mean classroom participation, but it can include this. What opportunities are there for students to be active in student life that do not require a physical presence on campus? What opportunities are there for adjunct teachers who are either on-site or online to engage with other faculty members and to network? This is a time when we can think about all of the virtual events that we have participated in over the last year and ask if this makes our institutions more diverse and accommodating.

3- We need to be sure that we recognize virtual work as real work. Teaching online requires a lot of the same preparation that traditional teaching does and it also requires a great deal of special preparation. The needs of students in a virtual classroom will be different from those in a traditional setting and we have to take the time to re-adjust our thinking to accommodate this. This means that we also have to work to teach our students how to make this change as well. We cannot assume that they know how to navigate our virtual spaces or that they will know where to find instructions. Also, being clear about what students can expect from us is vital. When not working around class schedules students may try to reach out at odd times and expect immediate response. Being clear about our working hours is a useful way to avoid the creep of work taking over our personal lives and reinforces the concept that staying in communication is work for us. The converse of this is that we need to be vigilant in teaching our students that the work that they do in a virtual space is also real work.

4- I think that this is a key moment for all of us to examine the difficulties that we have had over the last year and to really reflect on what it means to go back into a physical classroom. As teachers, we have had to overcome a lot of difficulties, and our students have done a lot to meet us there. We need to recognize that the massive educational shifts that we have undergone have also served to decontextualize our work. This means that we are in better positions to examine the assumptions that we brought with us to the classroom. This is a point where we can question the status quo of higher education and be deliberate in how we move forward.

Monday, May 24, 2021

Imagining Earth's Future

Kim Stanley Robinson seems to write two kinds of books. Both are hard sci-fi in the sense that they focus on either current technology or near-future technology extrapolated from current science. Both kinds of books are quick to locate the political elements of technology and science. While one sort of novel follows in the vein of his Mars trilogy – set in space and looking toward a sort of hopeful exploration (though often fraught with its own political difficulties) – the other kind of novel brings his readers back to Earth to take a hard look at the problems that we face here. The Ministry of the Future is one of the latter kind. While the title makes this sound like a time travel narrative, it is actually about a UN ministry that is established as a proxy for future generations as a way to keep current political entities from taking advantage of as-yet-unborn people. This in itself is an interesting idea because of the broad rhetoric used across the political spectrum in America about the importance of children, fetus, the future, and so on. In this novel, Robinson points out the fact that our systems loves to short the future while also counting on those yet to come to solve the ridiculous problems that we both create and shirk responsibility for.

This novel is a careful bricolage of narrative, ideas for problem solving, international intrigue, meditations on environmentalism and capitalism, and speculation on future technologies and bioengineering. The central narrative of the novel, detailing Mary Murphy's heading of the Ministry for the Future and the attempts she and her team make to bring the Earth back from the brink of destruction, makes up a small portion of the book. Robinson relies heavily on juxtaposition throughout to patch together scenes of striking contrast to highlight the manifold difficulties that we face. This is a necessary tactic because Robinson recognizes that the problems that we face are intricately interconnected.

For as bleak as much of the novel can be, Robinson does find a way to save the world. It takes invention of a new crypto-currency backed by the major economies of the world and based on carbon sequestration and the implementation of many other global-scale projects. But we have to make it through mass carnage and near collapse to get there. The disheartening revelation of the novel is that the wealthy and developed nations must experience the world as others do in order to take action.

I do not find this kind of Robinson's novels as entertaining to read as his space exploration novels, but they are still important to read. Robinson wants to think about a future that is based in the present day and fully cognizant of the problems that we face. He never imagines a future in which humankind is magically no longer like humankind. This can be disheartening, but it is a more useful way of looking at the future.

Monday, May 17, 2021

The Expanse, part 8: Tiamat's Wrath

I have finally caught up with the series that I started back in October of 2019. All things considered, I don't think I made a bad job of it. I read 8 novels that are all around 500 pages long in the space of a year and a half. When I first started Leviathan Wakes, I had bought a set of the first three books in the series. As I finished the first one and moved into the second, I thought that I would finish these three and see what happens, not really planning on going beyond those three books anytime soon. But it turns out that I read these pretty well back-to-back over that time since. (This isn't really true. I was reading this series concurrently with the Foundation and Dune series. I had them going one after the other to give myself some breathing room in between them.)

The scope of the novels has grown increasingly larger since the very first one. The nature of the conflict changes, the political context in which the characters find themselves shifts nearly constantly, and the technology changes over the course of the entire series. Sometimes all of these things change at once in an instant, and quite dramatically.

What this series does well is to give us a lot of variation on the influence that the large-scale changes have on individuals. There are some hugely catastrophic things that take place that the characters seem to take in stride while other events can change everything down to the way a character lives everyday life. I realize that I am being very general here and I will get to specifics in a moment. The reason that I single out this aspect of the novels is that I think that this is true to life. There is something honest about the presentation of everyday life in a world that is constantly bombarded from all directions.

In this series, when a vast unknown force, the Laconians, emerges and takes over all of known human existence with alien technology, there is a fundamental shift in political interactions. Former enemies band together, some allies split from one another, things such as trade agreements that had previously meant the difference between life and death fall into complete irrelevance, and repercussions just reverberate through all known quadrants of life. But on the small scale, for the Belters and other groups who were already marginalized, all this meant was resisting a different master. For the protagonists of the series, the current and former crew of the Rocinante, things turn in a different way. The crew is broken up and scattered. The plotting is pretty dense, so I won't get into specifics here. But what happens after the split is that the members spend a lot of time thinking about their lost members but they continue to serve the same functions. Their relationships repair with different groups of people but they all proceed in the direction that they were already headed.

This novel was originally published in March of 2019, but I think of this book in a lot of ways as a plague book. This notion that we can face catastrophic change in our lives that is simultaneously Earth shattering and mundane seems very familiar to people who have lived through a year plus of quarantine due to the Coronavirus pandemic. This also makes me think about living through the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. In some ways, everything changed. Or enough changed that it had broad influence throughout our lives. Some of the change was personal and psychological, other change was political and only touched most people in a theoretical or ideological way. But in both cases, for as much as things changed, there were large swaths of our lives that were just the same as they have been.

Moving to the smaller scale in this book, there are two things that really stood out to me about how this story was told. First is that the narrative is even more split than it had been in any of the previous books. In every one of the novels, the chapters are structured around a particular character's perspective so that the overall novels achieved a sort of kaleidoscopic quasi-omniscience. Each of the character's perspectives is limited, but when taken all together, there is a collected perspective that is much broader. It isn't really omniscient. This would properly be called shifting limited perspective, but the authors do something that some authors at the turn of the 20th century (Henry James, most notably, but Edith Wharton and some others) used to good effect. That is, occasionally the reader gets a moment from one character's perspective and then we see the same moment narrated from a different character's perspective. Narration of one event will talk back to itself within the novel and the reader gets a different point of view of the same idea or same action. It's a neat trick.

This leads to the second big thing that struck me about this book, which is the extent to which it uses re-narration throughout. There are a number of instances throughout the book in which this narration and counter-narration happen. This broadens the already broad perspective of the novel. It shows the shades of disagreement and misunderstanding that happen between the characters, and it also shows reciprocated emotion in a novel way. But what is particularly effective about this device in this novel is that it allows the authors to describe their established characters again from a new perspective. New people see these characters differently. And the fact that these characters from the first novels are now 30-something years older than they were when this all started means that not only have their outward appearances changed, but their conceptions of self and interactions with each other have changed as well.

The problem is that this can get a little confusing and distracting. There is just so much going on in this novel that I found myself re-reading passages or checking up on wikipedia to make sure that I didn't misremember something from a previous novel. There is a lot going on.

Which makes me a little nervous about the final book. Or, at least what is reportedly the final book which is due to come out this year or next. I am uncertain where everything is going and the authors have shown themselves willing to kill off characters, make significant shifts in the setting and events of the novels, and even to change the laws of physics in their books. This means that pretty much everything is on the table. This is exciting for a fan because it could lead to something really inventive and it will certainly be surprising. But it is nerve wracking for the same reason. Finales don't always have a great track record. I have high hopes for the conclusion to this series and I look forward to reading the spin off novellas once they become more widely available.

I'll just have to wait to see what the rest of the story looks like.

Saturday, April 24, 2021

Check out my review from Los Angeles Review of Books


So I'm not officially back yet but check out this link to read my review of Lee Matthew Goldberg's new book Orange City.

I'll be back in mid-May with a post on book eight of The Expanse series and a lot more to follow!

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Returning soon...


For those who check in here on any sort of basis: this is a note of explanation for my recent absence and my plan for return.

Over the last several months, I have taken on a couple of projects that have taken up the time I normally would have spent writing here. I am compiling content even now and plan a return in mid-May.

Upcoming posts include the most recent installment of The Expanse series, some notes on a variety of books that I have read in the last couple of months. Since I have finished a couple of the series that I have been working on lately, I plan on picking up another classic in Asimov's Robot series, and re-reading one of my all-time favorites, Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars series.

As always, I am on the lookout for new and exciting sf and horror novels to read, so I am open to suggestions.