I was recently at a friend’s house for dinner, when the conversation took an interesting turn. My friend’s father, a political science professor at Iowa State University, began lamenting the inability of scientists to communicate. The repercussions, he said, were more than just the loss of many good brains to the human gene pool.
Once he began this train of thought, the train in my mind ran down a slippery slope and took on some velocity. It isn’t rocket science to figure out that science should be influencing public policy, educational policy, and the business world. What really is the best way to solve global warming? How should we be teaching our children? What materials make the fasted combat jet? These are all questions which we turn to science to answer, but “science” doesn’t necessarily answer back.
The problem is that “science” can’t answer. It doesn’t speak English. Take it from an English major who is attempting to not fail out of her double in physics. I speak English and therefore my professors do not understand what I am saying. My fellow students do not understand what I am saying. I try to phrase electrodynamics, quantum mechanics, and mathematical formulae in English, only to end up with a language that no one, even me, understands. Obviously, this makes my life a little difficult, thus the “trying not to fail out of her double in physics.” It seems that even at a liberal arts college, the sciences are no longer are willing to have polygamist relationships with human brains.
Unfortunately, in order for science to be helpful, it must provide answers. Unfortunately, answering takes communication skills. It’s no longer about what you know, but what you can sell. If you want an example, just look at the arms industry.
The train keeps on rolling, and it takes me back to the welcome speech for my summer quantum physics internship.
“There are plenty of good experimentalists and theorists who never get the attention they deserve. What separates them from the famous physicists? Communication. You have got to get peoples attention… Now, can you all introduce yourselves when I call your name? It will probably take me awhile to remember all of your faces. Jean Dahlquist?”
A green haired girl (me) raises her hand. “Hi. If it helps, Jean rhymes with green.”
“I think I will remember you.”
So… the student at the very bottom of her class is the most memorable intern, just because of a clever rhyme and green hair. This lowly student is, according to previous speech, therefore destined to be a great and famous physicist. Dear God. The train crashes and explodes into a million flaming shards.
I end this essay with a plea. Please America, do yourself a favor and integrate Science education. If I’m going to be a famous scientist, you’ve got serious problems.
THE POST POST:
This was kind of a continuum on last week. I believe the above says it all.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Coming Close to the Knife: a college student’s thoughts on failure
It’s amazing how easily the word “line integral” reduces me to a sweating, and panicking puddle. “Stokes’s Theorem” does almost the same thing, though not quite since I’ve completely forgotten what it was. A gaping hole in my already bullet torn mantle of knowledge and confidence, multivariable calculus could be the thing that finally ends my dream of a physics major at Swarthmore.
It is at this point in which my friends and my family say, what are your worrying about? You’ve made it this far. You can do two more years! To these responses I can only sigh and smile. Mislead as they are, it is nice to have their false confidence, and even nicer not to have their pity. Pity is what stalks success in the night. Enough people looking at you and thinking “it’s a shame she’s so stupid” and soon your thoughts align…
“It’s a shame I’m so stupid. I won’t pass. Why am I trying?”
On the other hand, I wish for someone who could understand and sympathize with coming so close to the knife. I’ve had college professors tell me to my face that they don’t believe I’ll make it. I used to come out of every physics class close to tears, and I still might revert to that next semester. My control has never been as complete as people think it is.
It is also at this point, where friends and family suggest I retake multivariable calculus. I did well with my first attempt, however the class was a month long summer course with students who thought the cross product difficult to master. Furthermore, I had to leave a week early and covered the last week of the class in two days. Needless to say, I retained nothing I learned in those last two days.
Retaking multivariable calculus is a very good suggestion. I believe it would help me a lot. Still, I won’t do it. Herein lies my true problem.
I refuse to take multivariable again, because I don’t have the time. I don’t have time because I’m not just learning physics, but writing English papers and becoming fluent in French. I also started the damn Swarthmore composting program, and I’m going to stick with it. Lacrosse is my outlet for the growing anger at my inadequacy, and volunteer fire fighting subdues my urge to stop waiting for my education to end and just do things. The result of this essentially quadruple major (physics, English, French, extra curriculars) means that I can only give 25 or so hours to physics a week. This is 10 more than everybody else spends, but likely 10 less than I truly need. So far, I’ve only gotten by because of the help from two, solid A friends.
I know dropping something would be detrimental to my sanity, but this doesn’t comfort me as I lie in bed at night thinking, what if I can’t do it? My nerves stretch more as I look ahead one semester, to the physics courses I’ll have to take without my friends. What if I can’t do it? It’s not like I can work with any other physics majors. I have tried, and they all work too fast for me to keep up.
But what if I can’t do it? That’s a question I don’t have an answer for. What is I can’t do it? Where will I go? What will I do? I don’t have answers for those either. I guess it’s one of those do or die trying things. I’ll try until I die. I’ll do it, or I will never have to sit up at night again, wondering about failure.
THE POST POST:
So what are students with diverse interests supposed to do? Swarthmore is a liberal arts school, and thus even in the places where you are supposed to diversify, the sciences are unforgiving to those who want to run, write, speak a foreign language or do any number of things at the same time. This seems strange to me, because people are always complaining about how science students can’t write, talk, and are the weediest people you will ever see. In one way it makes sense. Technology is advancing at such a rate that it’s difficult to catch up unless you spend all your time studying it. However, we need more in our engineers, doctors, physicists, and biologists than just study machines. Perhaps we need more diversity in our college major system.
Some things to think about.
It is at this point in which my friends and my family say, what are your worrying about? You’ve made it this far. You can do two more years! To these responses I can only sigh and smile. Mislead as they are, it is nice to have their false confidence, and even nicer not to have their pity. Pity is what stalks success in the night. Enough people looking at you and thinking “it’s a shame she’s so stupid” and soon your thoughts align…
“It’s a shame I’m so stupid. I won’t pass. Why am I trying?”
On the other hand, I wish for someone who could understand and sympathize with coming so close to the knife. I’ve had college professors tell me to my face that they don’t believe I’ll make it. I used to come out of every physics class close to tears, and I still might revert to that next semester. My control has never been as complete as people think it is.
It is also at this point, where friends and family suggest I retake multivariable calculus. I did well with my first attempt, however the class was a month long summer course with students who thought the cross product difficult to master. Furthermore, I had to leave a week early and covered the last week of the class in two days. Needless to say, I retained nothing I learned in those last two days.
Retaking multivariable calculus is a very good suggestion. I believe it would help me a lot. Still, I won’t do it. Herein lies my true problem.
I refuse to take multivariable again, because I don’t have the time. I don’t have time because I’m not just learning physics, but writing English papers and becoming fluent in French. I also started the damn Swarthmore composting program, and I’m going to stick with it. Lacrosse is my outlet for the growing anger at my inadequacy, and volunteer fire fighting subdues my urge to stop waiting for my education to end and just do things. The result of this essentially quadruple major (physics, English, French, extra curriculars) means that I can only give 25 or so hours to physics a week. This is 10 more than everybody else spends, but likely 10 less than I truly need. So far, I’ve only gotten by because of the help from two, solid A friends.
I know dropping something would be detrimental to my sanity, but this doesn’t comfort me as I lie in bed at night thinking, what if I can’t do it? My nerves stretch more as I look ahead one semester, to the physics courses I’ll have to take without my friends. What if I can’t do it? It’s not like I can work with any other physics majors. I have tried, and they all work too fast for me to keep up.
But what if I can’t do it? That’s a question I don’t have an answer for. What is I can’t do it? Where will I go? What will I do? I don’t have answers for those either. I guess it’s one of those do or die trying things. I’ll try until I die. I’ll do it, or I will never have to sit up at night again, wondering about failure.
THE POST POST:
So what are students with diverse interests supposed to do? Swarthmore is a liberal arts school, and thus even in the places where you are supposed to diversify, the sciences are unforgiving to those who want to run, write, speak a foreign language or do any number of things at the same time. This seems strange to me, because people are always complaining about how science students can’t write, talk, and are the weediest people you will ever see. In one way it makes sense. Technology is advancing at such a rate that it’s difficult to catch up unless you spend all your time studying it. However, we need more in our engineers, doctors, physicists, and biologists than just study machines. Perhaps we need more diversity in our college major system.
Some things to think about.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Discovering the Arts of Physics: How her arts education helped this physics major tackle quantum crystallography
I can’t say my current internship in crystallography is what I expected. I’ve done science internships before. Okay, well one science internship before, but given a job is like any other job, I don’t think I was too much of a blockhead in assuming that an internship is like any other internship. You’re the coffee gopher, a calculator, and a secretary all in one. I will answer your phones, clean your dishes, and organize your past reports while doing complex mathematical calculations, for you pleasure. I exist to serve. Tell me what you want and I will begin immediately.
It goes with very little saying (after all, I did use the above paragraph setting this up) that my current internship is not what I expected. Furthermore, I have used none of the skills that I have spent two very long, and difficult, years at Swarthmore cultivating. In fact, I could have done everything I’m doing now, after I graduated from the Milwaukee High School of the Arts (MHSA). In fact, I have achieved most of what I have achieved in this internship, due to my specialized education at my—arts—high school.
MHSA was strange for an urban high school in that it still had a dream. It was typical for an urban high school in that it had nowhere near the means to fulfill that dream. My creative writing department had the most up to date software, the best contacts, and the best (carpeted!) room in the school. However, the teachers were… busy. And exhausted. They certainly didn’t have time for a student who was getting an A, (and who was motivated… gasp!). In the end, I was given a computer, a whole lot of photo and formatting software, and told to cope.
I did more than cope, I became an expert at practically everything Adobe. I also became efficient at it, because most of the other students didn’t cope and someone had to publish the magazine and newspaper. Furthermore, someone had to get people to read it, and organize the teachers, students, and grant people to hand it out and/or dish out the money. What’s the best way to do both of those things? AUDACISOUS COLOR! And Fabulous Formatting. When you want attention, you dress to startle (not impress) the eye. You don’t have credibility, and can you earn that credibility as a high school student and/or publication? Ha! Dream on little children. Dream on. In the end, you get their attention in any way possible and then work on holding it. I evolved to become the schools biggest advocate for creative, not standard formatting, and went from suburban girl to green hair and rainbow tank tops. My new introduction?
“The name’s Jean. Rhymes with green.”
My usual reaction?
“I’ll remember that.”
Take that Ms. Suburban blond AP scholar! BAM! Turns out, while the above skills couldn’t pull me through Swarthmore physics single handedly, they are all I need for my current internship. Most of the data analysis I’m doing is in Adobe photoshop, and my mentor has the time but he’s foreign, so it’s our communication is limited. He also has no clue about data analysis. I’m one my own, with Adobe, and some new software. I have to take stuff, make it work, and make it exciting. Sound familiar? And this is after listening to the following speech by the director of the internship program.
“There are plenty of good experimentalists and theorists who never get the attention they deserve. What separates them from the famous physicists? Presentation and communication. You have got to get peoples attention… Now, can you all introduce yourselves when I call your name? It will probably take me awhile to remember all of your faces. Jean Dahlquist?”
I raise my hand. “Hi. If it helps, Jean rhymes with green.”
“I think I will remember you.”
Take that AP scholars! I may not have taken multivariable calculus junior year of high school, but I took creative writing and hung out with punks and Goths. If you don’t believe in the resulting benefits of that, just watch. You’ll see. Physics is art. Realize that and catch up. BAM y’all.
THE POST POST:
This really brings up a lot of things. Students learn from struggle, and from being given independence, but when do you give too much? And when you give too little, how do you convince parents to let go?
How do you justify letting someone fail? Can you justify it?
And as far as the struggle comment goes, this essay is really comparing character/people lessons, to actual lessons on actual facts. Do students really have to choose one?
Some things to thing about...
It goes with very little saying (after all, I did use the above paragraph setting this up) that my current internship is not what I expected. Furthermore, I have used none of the skills that I have spent two very long, and difficult, years at Swarthmore cultivating. In fact, I could have done everything I’m doing now, after I graduated from the Milwaukee High School of the Arts (MHSA). In fact, I have achieved most of what I have achieved in this internship, due to my specialized education at my—arts—high school.
MHSA was strange for an urban high school in that it still had a dream. It was typical for an urban high school in that it had nowhere near the means to fulfill that dream. My creative writing department had the most up to date software, the best contacts, and the best (carpeted!) room in the school. However, the teachers were… busy. And exhausted. They certainly didn’t have time for a student who was getting an A, (and who was motivated… gasp!). In the end, I was given a computer, a whole lot of photo and formatting software, and told to cope.
I did more than cope, I became an expert at practically everything Adobe. I also became efficient at it, because most of the other students didn’t cope and someone had to publish the magazine and newspaper. Furthermore, someone had to get people to read it, and organize the teachers, students, and grant people to hand it out and/or dish out the money. What’s the best way to do both of those things? AUDACISOUS COLOR! And Fabulous Formatting. When you want attention, you dress to startle (not impress) the eye. You don’t have credibility, and can you earn that credibility as a high school student and/or publication? Ha! Dream on little children. Dream on. In the end, you get their attention in any way possible and then work on holding it. I evolved to become the schools biggest advocate for creative, not standard formatting, and went from suburban girl to green hair and rainbow tank tops. My new introduction?
“The name’s Jean. Rhymes with green.”
My usual reaction?
“I’ll remember that.”
Take that Ms. Suburban blond AP scholar! BAM! Turns out, while the above skills couldn’t pull me through Swarthmore physics single handedly, they are all I need for my current internship. Most of the data analysis I’m doing is in Adobe photoshop, and my mentor has the time but he’s foreign, so it’s our communication is limited. He also has no clue about data analysis. I’m one my own, with Adobe, and some new software. I have to take stuff, make it work, and make it exciting. Sound familiar? And this is after listening to the following speech by the director of the internship program.
“There are plenty of good experimentalists and theorists who never get the attention they deserve. What separates them from the famous physicists? Presentation and communication. You have got to get peoples attention… Now, can you all introduce yourselves when I call your name? It will probably take me awhile to remember all of your faces. Jean Dahlquist?”
I raise my hand. “Hi. If it helps, Jean rhymes with green.”
“I think I will remember you.”
Take that AP scholars! I may not have taken multivariable calculus junior year of high school, but I took creative writing and hung out with punks and Goths. If you don’t believe in the resulting benefits of that, just watch. You’ll see. Physics is art. Realize that and catch up. BAM y’all.
THE POST POST:
This really brings up a lot of things. Students learn from struggle, and from being given independence, but when do you give too much? And when you give too little, how do you convince parents to let go?
How do you justify letting someone fail? Can you justify it?
And as far as the struggle comment goes, this essay is really comparing character/people lessons, to actual lessons on actual facts. Do students really have to choose one?
Some things to thing about...
Friday, June 5, 2009
Uncrossing Lacrosse: hiting physics frustration with a stick
THE PRE-POST:
As ironic as it is, I’m going to start this series of rants (mainly against the suburban, blond patriarchy and whatnot) with the most preppy sport next to field hockey… lacrosse. Let us clear up one thing right now.
I do not have blond hair.
And I can’t put what hair I do have in a ponytail.
And even if I COULD wear my hair in a ponytail I wouldn’t do so with a RIBBON.
Now that that is out of the way, to THE POST!
(not the POST, not THE POST, but THE POST!)
(Pre-knowledge note, I go to Swarthmore College.)
THE POST:
To be honest, I never liked sports before I went to college. My family comes from a long line of German peasant stock, and our “natural athletic ability” comes from historically being hitched to the plow when the horse had been eaten for Sunday brunch. We’re stocky, big boned, and can run forever but not very fast. Needless to say, there are no plows in contemporary sports, especially (since plows and other such things are strength based) for girls. Thus, I felt that my talents were much more appreciated in the academic sphere.
Furthermore, I attended public arts high school. A public arts high school. A public arts high school. (Please note that the number of times I repeat “public arts high school” is exponentially proportional to the funding troubles we ran into when we couldn’t cut our art programs like other normal schools.) A public arts high school. A public arts school. To simply state the problem, when you can’t cut art you end up cutting PE, the logic being that creative types would rather drink a bottle of Robitussin straight rather than run a mile anyway. Many actually liked drinking Robitussin, but that’s another problem altogether. Thus, when not going through emotional catastrophes while being slathered in paint to the hallway echoes of a perfect rendition of RENT’s “One Song, Glory,” we played Frisbee or tag in gym class. Our biggest sport (practically our only sport) was track. Why? What equipment do you need for track besides a pair of shoes and a masochistic personality? An artists can be masochistic, trust me. Track was Goth rehab turned into a hideous parody of normal high school prep society.
Anyways, upon arriving at Swarthmore, I had the brilliant idea that I should play a sport. Why? Well, there was a daily all you can eat buffet, with all you can eat ice cream... need I say more? Given that I hated every sport I knew about, I decided to try lacrosse because I had absolutely no idea what it was. Thus there was about a 10% chance that practices wouldn’t be Hell, compared to the 100% chance that I’d hate my life if I played tennis or baseball or track. I got to the first meeting and someone asked how much I knew about lacrosse. My reply was something like “Depends… is lacrosse what you do with that stick?”
Strangely enough, in contrast to my horrible expectations and motivations, I found myself liking lacrosse. In fact, I loved it. Now maybe it is just the brain-crushing, soul stealing pressure that is Swarthmore, that strange mentality of Swat’s professors that if you’re not dying you don’t have enough homework, but lacrosse rapidly became the highlight of my day. When compared to quantum physics (where the rules change depending on how you measure them), a sport is bliss. The concepts are laid out in clear English, you know how to work towards improvement, and all that’s asked of you is to work towards that improvement until you hyperventilate. As a Swarthmore student I ask, is anything easier? Is that all you want? Lacrosse became the only two-three hours where I forgot my doubts about my own intelligence, dedication, and desire. I would forget about my ambition and extensive plans for the future, my thought processes forced into “Ball! Hey look, ball! Ball on ground! My ball! My ball!” Rarely have I not lamented the end of a practice, and I believe that in an idea world, we’d practice (and have the time to practice) at least four hours a day.
This essay is making me laugh as I write it. I really had no idea what I was getting into that first day. However, now I’m thinking about how depressing my (somewhat) inevitable graduation is going to be. Why can’t the NCAA have teams for graduate schools!? Oh well. Even if this experience ends forever in two years, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to burn off that ice cream, and better people to do it with. Furthermore, I doubt I would have made it through my current 2 years at Swarthmore, if it hadn’t been for lacrosse. Rarely does something in life have such defined rules, clear expectations, solid objectives, and the ultimate goal of “have fun.” Admit it, that’s frigging cool. When was the last time someone commanded you to enjoy yourself? Getting out onto that field is all the vacation I’ll ever need. If you ask me, lacrosse is life as it should be.
THE POST POST:
Writing this raised a few questions for me. The first is that, for me, a sport has become a necessity. Without it, my thoughts (many of them true) about my inability to compete with the genius of my fellow Swarthmorians infuriates me to the point that I can’t function. If it wasn’t for lacrosse, I would have given up, or transfered, after my first two semesters.
So then what does this say about my high school? Or about any high school where students don’t have enough of access to sports?
What does this say about education? That the education system, even in a college like Swarthmore, doesn’t possess the resources, the clarity of structure, or the flexibility to help struggling students cope?
Furthermore, sports that are easy to come by, like soccer, basketball, and track, are based a lot on natural ability and past training. For sports like these, there often isn’t a place for a high school or a college walk on. Sports where walk on’s can happen, like lacrosse and field hockey, are ridiculously expensive. So what happens to those students of modest means who found middle school easy, but have faltered in 9th grade?
Some things to think about…
As ironic as it is, I’m going to start this series of rants (mainly against the suburban, blond patriarchy and whatnot) with the most preppy sport next to field hockey… lacrosse. Let us clear up one thing right now.
I do not have blond hair.
And I can’t put what hair I do have in a ponytail.
And even if I COULD wear my hair in a ponytail I wouldn’t do so with a RIBBON.
Now that that is out of the way, to THE POST!
(not the POST, not THE POST, but THE POST!)
(Pre-knowledge note, I go to Swarthmore College.)
THE POST:
To be honest, I never liked sports before I went to college. My family comes from a long line of German peasant stock, and our “natural athletic ability” comes from historically being hitched to the plow when the horse had been eaten for Sunday brunch. We’re stocky, big boned, and can run forever but not very fast. Needless to say, there are no plows in contemporary sports, especially (since plows and other such things are strength based) for girls. Thus, I felt that my talents were much more appreciated in the academic sphere.
Furthermore, I attended public arts high school. A public arts high school. A public arts high school. (Please note that the number of times I repeat “public arts high school” is exponentially proportional to the funding troubles we ran into when we couldn’t cut our art programs like other normal schools.) A public arts high school. A public arts school. To simply state the problem, when you can’t cut art you end up cutting PE, the logic being that creative types would rather drink a bottle of Robitussin straight rather than run a mile anyway. Many actually liked drinking Robitussin, but that’s another problem altogether. Thus, when not going through emotional catastrophes while being slathered in paint to the hallway echoes of a perfect rendition of RENT’s “One Song, Glory,” we played Frisbee or tag in gym class. Our biggest sport (practically our only sport) was track. Why? What equipment do you need for track besides a pair of shoes and a masochistic personality? An artists can be masochistic, trust me. Track was Goth rehab turned into a hideous parody of normal high school prep society.
Anyways, upon arriving at Swarthmore, I had the brilliant idea that I should play a sport. Why? Well, there was a daily all you can eat buffet, with all you can eat ice cream... need I say more? Given that I hated every sport I knew about, I decided to try lacrosse because I had absolutely no idea what it was. Thus there was about a 10% chance that practices wouldn’t be Hell, compared to the 100% chance that I’d hate my life if I played tennis or baseball or track. I got to the first meeting and someone asked how much I knew about lacrosse. My reply was something like “Depends… is lacrosse what you do with that stick?”
Strangely enough, in contrast to my horrible expectations and motivations, I found myself liking lacrosse. In fact, I loved it. Now maybe it is just the brain-crushing, soul stealing pressure that is Swarthmore, that strange mentality of Swat’s professors that if you’re not dying you don’t have enough homework, but lacrosse rapidly became the highlight of my day. When compared to quantum physics (where the rules change depending on how you measure them), a sport is bliss. The concepts are laid out in clear English, you know how to work towards improvement, and all that’s asked of you is to work towards that improvement until you hyperventilate. As a Swarthmore student I ask, is anything easier? Is that all you want? Lacrosse became the only two-three hours where I forgot my doubts about my own intelligence, dedication, and desire. I would forget about my ambition and extensive plans for the future, my thought processes forced into “Ball! Hey look, ball! Ball on ground! My ball! My ball!” Rarely have I not lamented the end of a practice, and I believe that in an idea world, we’d practice (and have the time to practice) at least four hours a day.
This essay is making me laugh as I write it. I really had no idea what I was getting into that first day. However, now I’m thinking about how depressing my (somewhat) inevitable graduation is going to be. Why can’t the NCAA have teams for graduate schools!? Oh well. Even if this experience ends forever in two years, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to burn off that ice cream, and better people to do it with. Furthermore, I doubt I would have made it through my current 2 years at Swarthmore, if it hadn’t been for lacrosse. Rarely does something in life have such defined rules, clear expectations, solid objectives, and the ultimate goal of “have fun.” Admit it, that’s frigging cool. When was the last time someone commanded you to enjoy yourself? Getting out onto that field is all the vacation I’ll ever need. If you ask me, lacrosse is life as it should be.
THE POST POST:
Writing this raised a few questions for me. The first is that, for me, a sport has become a necessity. Without it, my thoughts (many of them true) about my inability to compete with the genius of my fellow Swarthmorians infuriates me to the point that I can’t function. If it wasn’t for lacrosse, I would have given up, or transfered, after my first two semesters.
So then what does this say about my high school? Or about any high school where students don’t have enough of access to sports?
What does this say about education? That the education system, even in a college like Swarthmore, doesn’t possess the resources, the clarity of structure, or the flexibility to help struggling students cope?
Furthermore, sports that are easy to come by, like soccer, basketball, and track, are based a lot on natural ability and past training. For sports like these, there often isn’t a place for a high school or a college walk on. Sports where walk on’s can happen, like lacrosse and field hockey, are ridiculously expensive. So what happens to those students of modest means who found middle school easy, but have faltered in 9th grade?
Some things to think about…
1st Post
Lately I’ve lost a bit of my motivation. Having a tough internship and plenty of small concerns I’m not used to, while being well provided/isolated from all the real world troubles you could hope for, I’ve relapsed into a bit of my old suburban self. Thus, I decided to use this blog to revisit the reason why I’m working so hard in the first place: education.
The outline of this blog (roughly) is going to be as follows…
I’m going to start by exploring a few of the education questions posed by recent college experiences, such as the importance of sports, inadequacy, background differences , financial aid, and the temptation to just not do something when you know your high chances of failure. Then once I am used to writing again, I’m going to dive back into public education politics, talk about magnet schools, charter schools, art programs, and what we can do about the disparity between urban and suburban education.
I’m basically going to be writing about my experiences, in order to raise questions and conflicts that I, and some other people, have run into. I would love feedback, and I would love people to share similar or different experiences. The goal is to share, brainstorm, and perhaps not only raise questions, but find some answers. I promise to read, and comment, on all responses.
Blog posts will be (roughly) once per week. The first real installment should be finished later on today.
The outline of this blog (roughly) is going to be as follows…
I’m going to start by exploring a few of the education questions posed by recent college experiences, such as the importance of sports, inadequacy, background differences , financial aid, and the temptation to just not do something when you know your high chances of failure. Then once I am used to writing again, I’m going to dive back into public education politics, talk about magnet schools, charter schools, art programs, and what we can do about the disparity between urban and suburban education.
I’m basically going to be writing about my experiences, in order to raise questions and conflicts that I, and some other people, have run into. I would love feedback, and I would love people to share similar or different experiences. The goal is to share, brainstorm, and perhaps not only raise questions, but find some answers. I promise to read, and comment, on all responses.
Blog posts will be (roughly) once per week. The first real installment should be finished later on today.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
