The One Good Thing About Education Classes

I’m taking two this summer. Not by choice. No teacher takes them by choice. They are by and large worthless, and no one except education professors and bureaucrats thinks otherwise.  They are either filled with things you already know (What, puberty is often an uncomfortable time for young teens? I’m stunned, really) or useless theories which are really nothing more than complex names created to make simple things sound difficult (It’s not a chart comparing the Articles of Confederation to the Constitution, it’s a semantic features analysis) or the same crap you heard in the last education class you took, and in the one before that, and in the one before that (Bloom’s taxonomy, anyone?).

There’s exceptions, one I’m taking this summer has actually been helpful. Not coincidentally, the professor has dedicated twice the class time to practical teaching strategies as she has to vapid theories. But usually these classes are a huge waste of time.

One thing they can do, though, is remind you of what it is like to be a student, and how frustrating it can be. Here’s three examples from this summer:

First, one of the two profs talks non stop from the start of class until the end two hours later. I’m a good student. I graduated in the top ten per cent of my law school class. But even I have a hard time making myself pay attention for that amount of time. I know the middle school kids I teach can’t listen to lectures for more than ten minutes. But this is a big experiential reminder of that fact. You have to break the class period into distinct sections if you want to hold their interest.

Second, that same prof gave us a big writing assignment, but little direction about what he wanted until the day AFTER he collected them. In class the day after the papers were due, he mentioned that he’d graded several papers, but that they were all missing important points. Then he explained “What I was really looking for was . . . .” Gee, thanks. Would have been nice to know the expectations BEFORE the assignment was due.

Third, the class I like is about reading strategies that help kids comprehend what they read. It’s mostly good stuff, and very helpful. So what was our final? Develop our own strategy? Model one for the class? Write a paper about a topic we covered? Nope. It was to write a grant. Huh? That has nothing to do with the subject we studied, nor did we ever discuss grant writing in class. It’s totally irrelevant to the topic and we were totally unprepared for the assignment. But it’s a huge portion of our grade in a class about reading. In other words, this final is totally useless for assessing whether we learned what we were supposed to learn in the class.

Those things are all really aggravating, and a big motive to avoid the same mistakes with my own students.

My Morning Ride

This is one I frequently ride. It’s basically a 25 mile out and back, but with a five mile loop at the farthest “out” spot. If you want more miles, you can ride that loop as many times as you’d like before heading back home. You will see very few cars on this ride. You also get a nice tour of the area: Starting in the southeast burbs, going through south highlands and highland to downtown, then along the river for a bit until the industrial areas on Grimmet Drive before making the loop around a huge farm north of town. The only drawback is crappy pavement for probably two thirds of the ride.

The map starts and ends at Broadmoor park. If you wanted to cut some miles off the ride, just start farther north.

Some Clear Thinking About Marriage

In the Times today:

Separate secular from sacred by drawing a bright line between civil arrangements and the sacrament of marriage. Each state would limit itself to defining marriage as civil benefits for committed couples (as mandated by state law) — and each religious group would be free to define marriage according to the tenets of its faith.

Distinguishing between the civil and religious aspects would also help calm both sides of the debate.

I think a lot of the opposition to gay marriage results from muddled thinking about the church’s and state’s roles. That is, your average church goer hears “California legalized gay marriage” and thinks - perhaps encouraged in this confusion by willfully ignorant leaders like James Dobson - “Oh my gosh, now churches have to have ceremonies for gay couples even if those churches think being gay is an abomination.” That is not true, of course. No church could be forced to marry a gay couple. All it means is that the state will now have to extend the same secular benefits to gay couples that it does to traditional couples. Considered like this, a gay couple having a state marriage license is no different than a gay person having state driver’s licenses. Not something to be worked up about.

It cuts the other way, too. Granted, not having those secular benefits is a serious hardship, and can lead to unconscionably awful situations. But even so, whether or not a gay couple is truly married has nothing to do with those benefits. Marriage is a matter of love, commitment and trust. The state did not create it and the state can not take it away. Yes, Louisiana is proud to have encoded ignorance and bigotry. But gay marriages in Louisiana are marriages, whether the state likes it or not.

Whether or not the law ever changes to reflect this distinction, it’s a good one to keep in mind. If nothing else it simplifies the debate.

Spencer Bachus Is Still A Complete Moron

Bachus was my representative in Alabama. The first time I called him a moron was because of this statement:

Bachus also condemned homosexual marriage as the worst threat to the nation. “We could lose Iraq and survive; we lost Vietnam and survived, but if we lose this battle over gay marriage, we are doomed,” he said.

Proving his ignorance extends to all areas of moralizing, now we have this beauty from Bachus:

“McGill University found that one-third of college students who gamble on the Internet ultimately attempted suicide,” he averred. He added, “That is why the rate of suicide on our college campuses has doubled in the past 10 years.”

Really? No.

In a belated response to Bachus’ startling claim, the Safe and Secure Internet Gambling Initiative, an industry group, cites McGill University gambling and addiction researcher Jeffrey L. Derevensky, who says:

“This assertion, which is reportedly based upon our empirical research, is not predicated upon any factual evidence. None of the studies conducted with adolescents or college students, to the best of my knowledge, have looked at a connection between Internet wagering and suicide attempts.”

And no:

while Bachus said suicides on college campuses have doubled in the last decade, the CDC says suicides among 15-to-24-year-olds fell by 28 percent between 1990 and 2003, then rose by 8 percent in 2004 before falling by 3 percent in 2005, the latest year for which data are available (PDF).

People like Spencer Bachus - not gay marriage, not gambling, not alcohol, not violence on television, not rap music, not illegal immigrants, not any of the other usual bogeymen - are the number one problem in this country. He has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, but he knows what has to be done and if the facts say otherwise, well, damn the facts.

If My Cat Was A Leopard

This is who he would be.

The article says this is probably the first time a leopard has killed a crocodile. Maybe, but it ain’t the first time a big cat has opened up a can on a large reptile:

Pics From The Fountains

We rode over there this morning. It’s a very pleasant ride - flat, little to no traffic, nice neighborhoods. The distance is about five miles, half of which is through the neighborhood and the other half along the river trail. Here’s a map, starting from the Broadmoor Library. Two things about the map. One, the map makes it look like you have to ride on Shreveport-Barksdale. You do not; you only ride on the service road for about a tenth of a mile. Two, when you get to Clyde Fant, if you do not know this already, at that spot you should hop on the sidewalk that follows the service road and stay on the sidewalk as it crosses UNDER the highway to the bike path. This is the best way to get to the path by bike.

Anyway, here they are:

And another:

“Wawie, wawie” (i.e. “water, water”):

“Excuse me? Did I say you could take my picture?”

“Pick up the pace, Dad.”

How To Choose The Right Group Bike Ride

After getting over the anxiety about the tight shorts, new riders still have to worry about joining a group ride. I know I rode on my own for over a year before joining my first group ride. I was afraid I would not be fast enough, or that I would cause a wreck, or that I’d run out of steam while the ride was still miles from home and in an area I did not know. Most of my fears were unfounded; they can all happen, but are much less likely if you join the right group. So here’s some advice on how to make a good choice.

There aren’t a whole lot of different kinds of rides. At one extreme is the balls to the wall, last man riding is the winner hammerfest. At the other extreme are the sociable rides that move just fast enough for everyone to stay upright. Then there’s everything in between. What I’m going to do is list some factors that generally indicate towards which end of the spectrum the ride will be.

First, pay attention to the ride description. If you see words like “world’s championship,” or the shorthand version, “worlds,” or “no planned rest stops,” or “attack zones” then it’s probably going to be long or fast, or long and fast. On the other hand, when the description says things like “no drops” or “sociable” or “rest stop at ice cream shop for sundays” then you can count on your heart rate staying in the safe zone.

Second, when you get to the ride start, pay attention to the riders. More guts, more aarp members, more women: slower. Thin young guys with sculpted legs: get ready to suffer. [I said this was a general guide. I'm a fairly strong rider, but I've had my ass kicked by old guys, large guys and women. (But never a large old woman.) Even so, generally, what I said is true.]

Third, don’t be deceived by the equipment. The are more poseurs in cycling than any other sport. The only safe bet is to contrast the bike and car. Eight thousand dollar Colnago with a BMW five series = wife just dumped him and he’s compensating. Same bike on a ten year old Honda Civic = look out, this dude is hard core.

Fourth, though the bike itself is not a goof indicator, how much stuff is attached to the bike is a very good clue about how serious the rider is. Cyclists are obsessed about bike weight. This is true for all of us. No one wants a heavy bike, but the more elite the rider, the more he is willing to sacrifice things for weight. So, if you see bikes with huge seat packs stuffed with tubes, tools, food, extra clothes, and who knows what else, then you can be sure those bikes are not going fast. Their riders are more concerned with getting to the end than in getting there quickly. On the other hand, if you do not see any bags under the seats, then you know the ride is going to be fast. For these guys it’s better to be stranded on the side of the road than to lose .00001 second due to the extra bike weight of a mini tool.

Fifth, the more stuff you see in jersey pockets, the faster the ride. You might be thinking “hey, you just said less stuff equals a faster ride.” That’s right, but remember, I said that cyclists are obsessed with BIKE weight. If all the stuff is in your jersey pocket instead of the seat pouch, then it does not count. Hence, when you see guys with no bike attachments other than water bottles, but with tires, tools, extra water bottles, energy bars, cell phones, and extra clothes bulging from their lower back, you know they’re serious.

Sixth, pie plates. If you see more than two, it’s a slow ride.

Finally, never pay any attention to what the other riders tell you the ride will be like. Why? Because it won’t be. Especially if they say it will be an easy ride. All it takes is one guy to pick up the pace. As soon as he does, someone else will chase. Then no one wants to be the guy who gets dropped. Soon enough, the easy Sunday morning roll is a high intensity workout. Besides, even if the ride stays true to the description, “easy” and “hard” are relative. If you’re with a cruiser group, their hard ride might put you to sleep. On the other hand, when the racers ride easy, I can barely keep up with them. No, don’t listen to the cyclists’ characterization. The best bet is to just apply these factors to the group and make your own decision.

A morning bike ride with the babies

This morning, I severely underestimated how long it would take to ride my bike while pulling the babies’ trailer to the downtown fountains. It’s probably only about 3 to 3.5 miles, as the crow flies, but on a bike, you have to take quite a circuitous route in order to avoid major roads and traffic. What I was thinking would be about a 20 to 30 minute ride turned out to be closer to 45 minutes, one way. By the time we got to the fountains, the babies were ready to play, and I was ready to curl up in the shade and sleep for an hour. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to nap, but I did get to rest my sore bottom for a bit while the babies ate their snacks. Then, we all got good and wet so we wouldn’t be so hot for the ride home.

The ride home was another 45 minutes of grueling cycling into a pretty strong headwind. All I can say is that I am so glad we don’t live in Birmingham anymore. I wouldn’t have gotten out of our neighborhood, much less 6 miles down the road if I had to go up and over any mountains. Getting the bike and 60+ pounds of babies over the river levee was work enough for me. About 10 minutes after we left downtown, I glanced back to check on the babies and both of them were sound asleep. They looked so cute and peaceful, sleeping with their heads on each other’s shoulders.

It was a good morning, even if I had to sweat buckets and work my legs into oblivion to see it.

Neighborhood Walkability

Here’s the calculator. The score will be from one to a hundred, with a bigger number being a better score. Your score depends on how close your house is to stuff like parks, schools, groceries, libraries, restaurants and that sort of thing. Terrain, sidewalks and weather are not factors. (More info here). So far, I’ve checked the following:

My dad’s house in suburban NJ: 37 (Would be higher if it counted proximity to wayward dolphins.)

Our old house in B’ham: 40 (Would be lower, if sidewalks and terrain were figured in)

Our current house in S’port: 57 (Contra B’ham, would be higher if terrain and sidewalks figured in. Also they missed a school and a park. But they did not count weather, either, which this time of year would have really hurt the score.)

My sister’s house in Virginia: 2 (Too bad it doesn’t count deer stands within walking distance.)

And in a surprise for no one who has been there, my mom’s house: 0

“The difference between venial and mortal sins”

Obama doesn’t have all the right answers, but he’s got the right answers on the more important questions:

The answer is simple: Unjustified war and unconstitutional abridgment of individual rights vs. ill-conceived tax and economic policies - this is the difference between venial and mortal sins.

Taxes, economic policy and health care reform matter, of course. But how we extract ourselves from the bloody boondoggle in Iraq, how we avoid getting into a war with Iran and how we preserve our individual rights while dealing with real foreign threats - these are of greater importance.

John McCain would continue the Bush administration’s commitment to interventionism and constitutional overreach. Obama promises a humbler engagement with our allies, while promising retaliation against any enemy who dares attack us. That’s what conservatism used to mean - and it’s what George W. Bush promised as a candidate. . . .

If economic damage from well-intentioned but misbegotten Obama economic schemes is the ransom we must pay him to clean up this foreign policy mess, then so be it. It’s not nearly as costly as enduring four more years of what we suffered the last eight years.