Entries from May 2005 ↓

So today I find myself in a world where machall’s style seems to keep getting better, and Penny-Arcade uses a punchline I could’ve sworn has been doing the irc standup circuit for the past thousand years or so. A world where a new movie starring Hilary Duff and Ashton Kutcher hits the cinemas every other week, but no one knows who Jeffrey Wright and Djimon Hounsou are. But more to the point, one where I’m beginning to question whether higher education has any relevance whatsoever in the forms it takes in western culture.

Right now, I have more assignments due than God. Of course, that’s probably part to do with the fact that God doesn’t have assignments, but that’s beside the point. Also beside the point is that I ponder these things instead of doing the assignments themselves. Closer to where the actual point is, is that I’m not getting anything out of these assignments. My understandings aren’t growing, my breadth of knowledge is not expanding, I’m not being blindsighted by revelations about how best to use the skills I’ve got to make the world a better place, and when I think of it, with a single exception, neither do I gain anything from the lectures I attend that I couldn’t have read in a book (a book, I might add, that I have to read anyhow since it’s part of the course texts), not to mention that it’s all simply common sense regardless. But after thinking about it, I have learned things this year, but not from classes or texts or assignments, but from just discussing things with other folks outside of the lectures over some blend of coffee or other that is probably slowly eroding my insides. The only exception to my not learning in tutorials and lectures is one class where all we actually do (and I mean all) is talk about things, and about thinking, something akin to philosophy 101 for teachers. Everything else I’ve actually learnt, I’ve learned by doing or by seeing done.

So why on earth would I cop a few thousand dollars on the chin to sit in these classes for the term of a year. And it comes down to a qualification. A preposterous piece of paper on which it’s written that some institution or other declares that I have sat through the learning process of some certain subset of knowledge that they believe makes me competent at something. What a ridiculous idea. We’re at a point where some people judge each other by the ability to be droned at to a certain degree and regurgitate said drivel on command? Surely this is madness. You can’t measure wisdom like you measure flour, it’s not something you can mark in notches on a belt.

It’s always reassuring to know that you’re losing faith in the educational system that you’re leading yourself to go working in…

the things that pass for knowledge
I can’t understand

Well so far I’ve survived my first two days of “observational” prac, although how “observational” my prac so far has been is somewhat debatable. On the first day the mentor teacher had me marking chemistry tests and teaching year ten biology within the first hour. Of course my knowledge of biology consists of remnants from lower school circa 1997 and my experiences in battling cockroaches between then and now, but hey, since when has lack of knowledge been a barrier to teaching? By fifth period I was doing a physics demo for a year twelve class, and contrary to what I was expecting, neither myself nor any of the students were blinded or electrocuted in the process. Suffice to say that my mentor teacher is fond of the “thrown in the deep end” school of thought, but so far it seems to be working out okay and I’m enjoying it. Apparently it’s just the way he does business, as I got a lot of sympathy at the coffee urn from some of the younger science teachers in the department who had the same fellow as a mentor teacher during their pracs. Yesterday I even taught a year eight class and had them do an experiment using bunsen burners and no one was lit on fire. Of course I have the advantage of being one step ahead of small children with inflammatory devices, having misused them for pretty much every possible purpose myself in the not too far gone past. Memories of oneself on fire do not pass quickly.

The play went really well, at least any parts of it that involved my presence, and if the leading lady wants to break into a monologue on the bizarre mating rituals of the twelfth century Incan people while I’m backstage trying to catch skittles in my mouth and ignore the rabid bitching about co-stars going on behind me, then that’s just fine with me. Not that she did, though it would’ve made for an interesting interlude in the production. On the plus side, now that it’s over I can have more of my weekends back from rehearsals in order to fill them with the construction of repulsive uni assignments. But it’s not all bad.

I’d just like to take this opportunity to say that Glen, those unopened pies you left in our freezer, well I ate one of them. And when I say one, I mean a few. And when I say a few, I mean all of them. I hope you can take some satisfaction from knowing that they were indeed very tasty and nutritionally satisfying and I enjoyed the consumption of each and every one of them. I believe that despite this setback, that both our peoples can continue to live in peace and we can still co-exist in harmony, building a stronger nation by bonding through our adversity, and the devouring of each others’ chicken and vegetable sustenance.

I’m useless
but not for long