Seeing results

This week, as I looked at the daffodils and tulips blooming riotously in my front gardens, I thought, “Sometimes, things actually work.” And when I thought of what actually worked lately, Saturday immediately came to mind. It was one of those days when things worked, and I felt like celebrating when it was done.

You see, after days of worrying about how our annual Ethics Bowl would fare in the middle of a planned protest against a seminary event on our campus, things actually worked. Our 100 seniors and 30 judges appeared bright and early. The seniors were spiffed and polished, and they spent a long morning analyzing and questioning ethical decisions. The energy in the two buildings where we met was palpable, and many of the judges commented to me on how well-prepared and thoughtful our seniors were. We all watched a final round in which two of our best teams ever squared off. At the end of the day, Ethics Bowl worked.

At the same time, from my view through the windows, it looked to me as if the protest worked, too. About 200 protestors gathered peacefully on the corner of campus, banged drums, waved banners and walked with excitement over to the chapel. I was impressed to recognize many students in the crowd – at 8 a.m. on a Saturday, no less! – deeply committed to their beliefs. The protestors returned about an hour later and spread out all along the intersection of two streets, cheering as passing cars honked their horns at the protestors’ signs. Hooray for free speech, I thought. In this case, the organizers’ attempt to make a public point worked.

By now, perhaps, you’re wondering why in the world I thought of these things when I stood outside admiring my tulips and daffodils. Simple. For the first time, no squirrels or rabbits have used my gardens as a salad bar. Spring bulbs worked!

And if I can grow spring bulbs, after years of failure, perhaps we can all do many things – like get through the rest of this busy semester and learn something. I love it when things work!

Growing our brains

Sometimes, I am baffled by my students.  I have a hard time understanding why they make the decisions they do.  To me, they can't seem to see the consequences of their choices, especially as they relate to other people.  What's wrong with these young people, I sometimes wonder.

Well, maybe nothing's wrong.  Maybe my students are not self-centered.  Maybe their brains are just different than mine.

That's what I learned hearing a "Morning Edition" report on National Public Radio today.  The report suggests the brains of the 18- and 19-year-olds I teach just aren't finished growing.  Their circuits aren't completely wired until they reach the mid-20s.  And that can explain why they make what seem to be self-centered decisions.  It can also explain why they can learn new information more quickly than can a middle-aged adult like me.

Who knew?  Check out this interesting report, which is available online at "The Teen Brain: It's Just Not Grown Up Yet".

While you're online, read the companion report NPR aired this morning about the "aging" brain.  (Yes, that would be mine.)  It turns out my middle-aged brain is wired differently, too.  My brain at mid-life is wired so that I react and learn more slowly.  I make more mistakes.  But the good news is that I'm more "shrewd," and I can grow new brain cells, too.  Check it out at "The Aging Brain Is Less Quick, But More Shrewd."

Planting an idea

Ethics.com: That's the title of an honors seminar a colleague and I are leading this semester. To help our students grapple with some of the ethical choices posed in online communication, I convinced my co-teacher we should assign our students to create and maintain blogs, rather than write traditional essays and papers. So, in the spirit of the class, here I am -- creating my own blog.

But what in the world am I going to write about?

I'm not entirely sure, but I've decided to call whatever this turns out to be my "mental garden." That's because, although I've been a college professor for more than 20 years, I'm still a farmer's daughter at heart. My favorite metaphors are always those that deal with growth.

So here's the first seed of an idea: Teachers shouldn't give students assignments they wouldn't attempt themselves. ... Even if that means creating a blog and entering a part of the online world I'm not sure I want to join.

It's a tiny seed, by the way. All I did was find a blogging program, accept all its defaults, write a few words and click a few choices. This is a tiny garden plot so far.