back to school

Every semester, I try to begin a class with a bit of wisdom for the students on the process of learning (I’ve blogged about this before, I suppose). It seems like a modest goal. I talk about note taking (the Cornell Note taking Method), how to be an active reader, how to rehearse knowledge, and what are a few good writing habits that I hope will stick. A New York Times article reviews the research on study habits debunks common wisdom and isolates a few good tips:

[M]any study skills courses insist that students find a specific place, a study room or a quiet corner of the library, to take their work. The research finds just the opposite. In one classic 1978 experiment, psychologists found that college students who studied a list of 40 vocabulary words in two different rooms — one windowless and cluttered, the other modern, with a view on a courtyard — did far better on a test than students who studied the words twice, in the same room.

And…

Varying the type of material studied in a single sitting — alternating, for example, among vocabulary, reading and speaking in a new language — seems to leave a deeper impression on the brain than does concentrating on just one skill at a time.

horoscopes, habitus, and clemens

I love using horoscopes the first day of class to talk about how we perceive the world around us. I run a variation of the Forer Demonstration. I use the exercise in conjunction with a story about two septuagenarian Finnish Twins (who die on the same day, on the same stretch of road, on bicycles, a few hours apart from each other) and the numerology of 9/11 to talk about the different frameworks we use to analyze the world, and how sociology is different. This year, I’m mulling over Gerd Gigerenzer’s new book, Gut Feelings: The Intelligence of the Unconscious, as a way to build up to the notion of habitus. (See Scientific American‘s take on horoscopes.) I like it, but it doesn’t address at all how people arrive at their ideas and opinions, something that is done so simply in one of my favorite essays, Twain’s Corn-Pone Opinions. He recalls a maxim he overheard by a slave preacher: “You tell me whar a man gits his corn pone, en I’ll tell you what his ‘pinions is.” (Corn-pone is another word for cornbread, but it was also used as a derogatory term for a kind of country bumpkin, adding a different layer to the essay.) Well, it’s a great essay to think through Mills’ Sociological Imagination. Twain (to the right, with the ghostly Nikola Tesla) writes:

The outside influences are always pouring in upon us, and we are always obeying their orders and accepting their verdicts. […] A man must and will have his own approval first of all, in each and every moment and circumstance of his life — even if he must repent of a self-approved act the moment after its commission, in order to get his self-approval again: but, speaking in general terms, a man’s self-approval in the large concerns of life has its source in the approval of the peoples about him, and not in a searching personal examination of the matter. Mohammedans are Mohammedans because they are born and reared among that sect, not because they have thought it out and can furnish sound reasons for being Mohammedans; we know why Catholics are Catholics; why Presbyterians are Presbyterians; why Baptists are Baptists; why Mormons are Mormons; why thieves are thieves; why monarchists are monarchists; why Republicans are Republicans and Democrats, Democrats. We know it is a matter of association and sympathy, not reasoning and examination; that hardly a man in the world has an opinion upon morals, politics, or religion which he got otherwise than through his associations and sympathies. Broadly speaking, there are none but corn-pone opinions. And broadly speaking, corn-pone stands for self-approval. Self-approval is acquired mainly from the approval of other people. The result is conformity.

Then, there is Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, in which he writes of habit (which is not directly habitus, yes, yes):

As a rule it is with our being reduced to a minimum that we live; most of our faculties lie dormant because they can rely upon Habit, which knows what there is to be done and has no need of their services.

writing and speaking…

Work on good prose has three steps, a musical stage when it is composed, an architectonic one when it is built, and a textile one when it is woven.

-Walter Benjamin

I am always looking to be a better writer and speaker, and some would say I need to work on it more than I do. In keeping with White, here’s Vonnegut’s ‘How to Write With Style‘ and Sociologist Jim Jasper’s ‘Learning How to Write Better.’ ‘Style’ is such an interesting issue… When I worked with Jim we would sit around in a circle and play his ‘Word Elimination Game,’ a game I have been playing on my manuscript this summer. Same with the ‘Reverse Outline.’ More advice:

There is the obsessive use of logical connectors, like “however,” or “thus.” If the relationship between two successive sentences isn’t clear without these, from their internal substance, you’re already in trouble. (I could have said, “then you’re already in trouble,” or “thus you’re already in trouble.”) There are also phrases that mean nothing at all, like “In this regard”…

Guilty as charged.

Here is Jim’s ‘Giving Better Talks‘ too. He obliquely mentions the use of Memory Palaces, or ‘Method of Loci,’ which I’ve tried to teach a bit in class but rarely use…

DIY

DIY is something that recently bridged the gaps between my teaching and my research. Clau recently reminded me of the old saw that ethnographies are often about the ethnographers themselves, and I guess that there is an element of that in my own musings. I always thought that the walking guides I have been writing about are a little like ethnographers themselves, but that’s not too far removed. Anyway. I’ve been thinking about music as well, and DIY tools to make everyone more musical in a fashion. (Being on a MFA thesis committee on mass-participatory/social networking technology dance certainly prompted these thoughts as well.) It brings up Benjamin, of course, and a student in the Media, Technology, & Sociology class is hard at work on Garageband (both in theory and practice). But here are a few more of those sorts of programs (via ‘I Am Robot and Proud‘ website): Audacity, Processing, Chocopoolp, and Renoise.

Speaking of student projects (and DIY), here’s a part of someone’s final:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-h3AuyR6EmI]

And also.

technology and pedagogy

My best-blog friend (BBF?) kristina b linked to a video by Michael Wesch’s Kansas State Mediated Cultures website (a part of his Digital Ethnography course) a while ago, and as I keep on teaching my class on ‘Media, Technology and Sociology’ I’ve been mulling over these issues… We’ve done a pretty good job discussing doing hands-on wikis, blogs, audio, and film, but the hybridity of the course makes it all a little too compact. Grr.

It’s a little like the reverse of the digital divide that Attewell and Battle research: they find that when you just throw technology at students those who have the cultural capital to use them excel and those who don’t, don’t–further exaggerating inequalities and masking them in a techno-utopic vision… can the flip be said about faculty? I could be wrong but that classroom looked HUGE, and I wonder if diminishing class size rather than adding the expectations of techno-wizardry would have a larger impact on a class like that. Whoosh. And I’m wondering about how to be more effective in folding over media-criticism, reflexivity on media/technology and sociology, while also doing hands-on workshops with these technologies… With 21 students. Any more than that, and the transaction costs are too large…

On related notes of technology in the classroom, Erik Olin Wright podcasts all of his lectures here. Discussion of the use of ‘clickers’ at Scatterplot here. It makes me think that I may want to work on creating movies for the use of technology so that students can learn these things outside the classroom… Maybe over the summer.

dressing up sociology

… or me. I hate having to think about clothes, particularly ‘teaching clothes.’ It occupies my mind very intensely every morning from 7:05-7:07, and it is enough to make me wish I could just wear a monk’s robe to work every day. Well, at least I’m not alone. Someone argues that academics should be more dressed up, a kind of ‘broken windows’ theory of academic attire, I suppose. Then two people respond here and here. No mention of those  expectations as being heavily gendered, by the way. Yes, this is perhaps irrelevant. But perhaps I’ll wear a suit tomorrow and see what happens.

first lines…

Sometimes I say things in class and I don’t know where they came from. A mixed bag of good and bad, usually. Today, after a long discussion of all the issues raised in the first eight words of a book, I said:

‘I was forced into crack against my will’ is the ‘Call me Ishmael’ of the social sciences.

Yikes.

punk + emile

A student passed along this old piece from The Onion. I guess the upshot is that getting students to connect social theory to everyday issues is out there in the zeitgeist, which is a good thing. Parody from The Onion, however, less so. There’s even a nice echo of what I have to write in the margins every week:

Basile, who has not yet decided on a grade for Hoyer’s paper, said he encourages “thinking beyond the textbook” and has no problem with students expanding an assignment to incorporate non-traditional subjects like punk rock. He noted, however, that he “would ideally like to see at least a 50/50 ratio.”

“Look here on page 6. This long section on the anti-societal statements punks made by wearing torn clothing and dyed hair is an obvious place to work in something about Durkheim’s distinction between societies maintaining mechanical versus organic solidarity,” Basile said. “But instead, he just keeps hammering home the same point about Malcolm McClaren’s ‘Sex’ shop.”