I'm on Bloglovin!

Hello my dear followers!

I've been trying a few new things on the backend with my blog to make things easier for you to follow and access my posts. I decided to become active on the service Bloglovin, which is a great way to keep up with multiple blogs. I personally follow at least a dozen blogs, so Bloglovin helps me stay on top of the most recent news by sending me daily updates from the blogs I follow. It's really helpful because I never miss a post!

I invite you to try out Bloglovin--it's free, and yours truly is there so you can keep up with me even easier. :)

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Get noun

The verbing of nouns is nothing new. This poem, which, according to this post, was originally published in the St. Paul Pioneer Press, provides myriad examples of the English language's morphology.

Did I lose you? Morphology happens every day, like when you make up a word by using parts of existing words. This is just a drop in the ocean compared to what English has been through over the hundreds of years of its linguistic development.

Today it seems we're verbing nouns at what some linguists find to be an alarming rate. Words like "PDFing," "texting," and "staffing" come from a PDF document, a text message, and a staff for a business/event. But these are now things we can also do.

Fascinating.

Without further ado, I present to you the Verbing of America, an unsigned poem.

Relativity in comparisons: perspective in the past

I've heard this quote about there only being four stories in the world, that we just tell them over and over with new characters in new places... but I never thought it was true. Recently, though, I can't help but think that it must be. At the very least, I have grown tired of media referencing past events without considering that current events have their own legs to stand on. It's frustrating when each new story is merely a comparison to an old one. Two examples in the news right now come to mind: NPR-gate and the Fukushima, Japan reactors = Chernobyl or Three Mile Island.

NPR-gate: If there's a scandal, it becomes Something-gate... a reference to Watergate, the scandal that led to President Nixon's resignation. The name came from the hotel where the wire-tapping scandal was born, not because of some actual gate (a hinged, removable barrier to an enclosure). It's unnerving how every single little scandal that pops up in the news these days becomes a "gate" of some sort... Links in that last sentence go to cry-gate, robo-gate, NPR-gate, and climate-gate (and all it took to find them was a Google News search for "gate scandal").

Is there not some more original way to state that something is scandalous? (For starters, how about calling it scandalous?) What were scandals called before Watergate happened? To what other pariah or sinister deed were they compared? While I'm certain there were scandals reported in the news prior to 1970, it seems we've latched on to the one in which a nation's elected leader voluntarily stepped down. Momentous, yes? A worthy label for each shocking incident thereafter? No. And no matter how you slice it (or write about it), the resignation of NPR's president and CEO is not on the same level as President Nixon's resignation. The story is interesting in its own light for various reasons, but the comparison to Watergate is too simplistic. This story, like others with unwaveringly popular "gate" suffixes, has its own legs and should be allowed to use them without the "gate" crutch.

Fukushima, Japan: And if there's some kind of nuclear problem on the horizon, it's a Chernobyl (Soviet Union, 1980) or a Three Mile Island (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, 1979). (Even that link above includes a picture of Three Mile Island and a mention of Chernobyl in the headline. The saving grace for that article is a source who declares the past events are "very, very different from Japan's current situation.) Right now, the focus is on Fukushima, Japan. Poor Japan—they suffer the worst earthquake in their country's recorded history, endure a phenomenal tsunami, and manage to keep their nuclear reactors under control despite all that and a rising death toll as search parties canvas the islands, and all the news can do is repeat pictures and memories of other actual disasters.

But it's NOT a disaster (as of the writing of this blog post, 7:20 EST on 3/14/11) and I hope and pray, with the rest of the world, that it doesn't get to that point. I don't deny that there is significant danger involved with a damaged, nonfunctioning or malfunctioning nuclear reactor (let alone several reactors in such bad states). Commercial nuclear power hasn't quite earned its stay in the U.S. yet (though it is used more elsewhere in the world) so there are a lot of critics. There are always critics. But comparing a dangerous situation to past catastrophes is not exactly a boost of confidence. Nor do the comparisons let these life-changing situations stand on their own. Japan's current situation will never be Chernobyl or Three Mile Island. Those places are in other countries; heck, they're completely different continents! The situation is unique, the people handling it are different, the circumstances should be seen for what they are, not compared to something that seems familiar... just for the sake of making it familiar.

I think I just hit a nerve. Maybe that's the reason for the comparisons: they're familiar. We don't tend to like change or new things, as a human race, so we want to compare, to make things familiar, to prove to ourselves that we've seen this before and that we know how it will end (for better or worse) so we can prepare ourselves for that ending. Maybe we just need to tamp down our senses with references and comparisons so that we can get on with our lives instead of being caught up in the tragedies of the world, so much so that we can't think straight because our hearts go out to the Japanese people made homeless by forces of nature, searching for lost loved ones, fighting to keep their country's power sources safe and within reasonable control.

Naturally, everything is relative to everything else, meaning that something is only as good (or bad) as whatever it's being compared to. The beauty of similes and metaphors is that we need them to make sense of abstraction in our lives. What's sad is when they're overused to describe circumstances that would be better described in their own light.

It's like a curve on a grading scale when the is one kid who managed to get 100% on the test and screwed the curve for everyone else.

It's like eating a meal with no flavor and then going for dessert at a new place and declaring it the best dessert you've ever eaten.

It's like seeing the scandals and suffering in the news and sizing up the latest stories in accordance with similar older stories so that the latest feels more reasonable (or, depending on your perspective, blown out of proportion).

Yeah, that's what it's like. Only it's not. Because that is a comparison. Experience it for yourself so it's not a comparison, okay?

Joy in the advertisement: Spotting my alma mater

It's no secret that my alma mater (Seton Hill University, Greensburg, PA) is head over heels for the iPad. It was about a year ago that they announced all students would receive an iPad. There has been some news since the announcement, but I had heard most of the feedback I wanted from my former professors. (Since I want to teach, this is the most relevant feedback for me.)

Today I spotted an iPad advertisement on Inside Higher Ed while reading an article about the humanities. It's tough news to take, especially as someone who hopes to break into the humanities, but as I read along I got distracted by the photos in the ad. They looked so incredibly familiar... the thick, hand-carved wooden baseboard, the large, brilliant windows, the classroom podium, the chalkboards framed with heavy, old wood. I also thought I recognized the teacher in the lower picture. It looked an awful lot like the one business professor, Mrs. Guinta, a friend of mine through the women's business center, e-Magnify, where I worked at during my entire undergraduate career.

I rarely click on ads, but I needed to see if this was truly my alma mater.

I was redirected here, to Apple's Learning with iPad education site. I roved around for a moment, not seeing my school listed anywhere, but knowing quite well that they had fully adopted the iPad (and surely Apple had noticed!). I clicked on the video with the caption "See how iPad is transforming teaching and learning at all levels."

Seconds after the video started, I heard a familiar voice. It was Seton Hill President, Dr. JoAnne Boyle. She is a good friend of mine and she taught one of

my English classes when I was a senior—of course I recognized her voice!

I was thrilled they used her sentiments to open the video, but I hoped they weren't through talking about my beloved school. I watched the rest of the video, learning about how Chicago public schools was using the iPad (cute kindergartners learning the alphabet and phonics), how an 8th grader named Emma was succeeding in chemistry (as a visual learner, I think the iPad is really helping overcome those specific challenges), and how a med student at Duke believes that the future of medicine will rest in the interactivity of the medical information with the real application of medicine (perhaps with the iPad as intermediary). Then I was delighted to see more beautiful shots of my school.

I was also thrilled to see that the photos I had identified with my school from the advertisement were, in fact, from my school. Not being there every day for about four years now, I'm pleased I can still recognize its beauty in a few small photos. I'm more pleased, though, that Apple decided to feature my school in the video about how the iPad is changing the face of academe. I'm proud to associate myself with my alma mater because I'm proud of the things they're doing.

A video like this serves two main purposes: an advertisement for Apple (of course) and a means to get more people thinking about how the iPad can change education. There are bound to be more purposes tied up in the philosophy of such a video, but I think the reality of something like this—something so far reaching as a very mobile, technological device that is a silver brick until you turn it on and push it to its limits—is that education will be forever changed for the better.

An infinite mirror: media use

It's like the New York Times read my blog... that, or I'm just one voice in a cacophony of bewilderment about the shifts in social media use.

...I'll flatter myself today.

Blogging is far from arcane, at this point (or is it?). The NYT reports that while youth (12-17 year-olds) are moving in hoards to the quicker forms of social media (e.g., Twitter and Facebook), the 18-33 year-olds are going strong with blogs.

I'm beginning to wonder if this isn't a reflection of a larger trend. Like, the trend of children with cell phones.

Blogging almost inherently requires a computer—be it laptop or desktop—to pound out a draft, complete with links and synthesized thoughts. (Perhaps I'm setting the stakes too high by suggesting that all blog posts synthesize information?)

Tweeting, however, can be done from a cell phone. The same is true for Facebook updates.

In 2010, the NYT reported that 66% of children (8-18 years-old) own cell phones (up from 39% in 2004).

On average, young people spend about two hours a day consuming media on a mobile device, the study found. They spend almost another hour on “old” content like television or music delivered through newer pathways like the Web site Hulu or iTunes. Youths now spend more time listening to or watching media on their cellphones, or playing games, than talking on them.

What's to say that the same children consuming media with their cell phones aren't also creating media for consumption, à la Facebook or Twitter? If kids are more likely to have cell phones than computers (or, at the very least, spend more time on their cell phones than computers), wouldn't it seem likely that they'll interact with whatever media is easiest for that mode of communication?

Maybe I'm speculating. I can't seem to find a readily accessible news report on children and their Twitter and Facebook habits (beyond studies tiptoeing around the idea that children divulge too much personal information, which is a different topic altogether). Nonetheless, it seems to me that if there's a drop off in blog use that it might have something to do with the devices the next generation is using.

Blogging may remain popular for traditionalists (like me) who enjoy writing for a community (defined or undefined) to share news or introspection, but social media have won their place in the world, for better or worse.

The generational divisions in media use, however, will most likely only be teased out by examining the modes for access (i.e., cell phones, desktops, laptops, iPads, etc.). It's not that younger generations reject certain modes, but that they embrace others more, which will ultimately be seen as a reflection to the wider world of media use as other, newer media enchant younger, newer generations.

Boundaries in blogging and tweeting

I came to blogging at the latter end of its prime (2003) and came to tweeting late (last month). Since moving my blog, I've tried to reinvent myself as a blogger (a little, since who I was with Sugarpacket was not a bad thing!). But now that I am also tweeting, I'm having issues regulating myself.

Sometimes I read a great article, watch a video, or see something offline and think (as I have conditioned myself over years of careful blogging), "Wow, I should blog this!" Now, though, I have an internal battle... I wonder, "Should I tweet this or blog it? Can I do both? Will anyone read the blog if I tweet this? Should I blog it and then tweet my blog?" (And then I thank goodness that I'm not on Facebook and don't have that as a third option to consider for sharing my thoughts with the world... This conundrum is difficult enough!)

Am I only conflicted about whether to blog or tweet based upon my past history with blogging? I suspect this is part of the problem. My blog was always a personal dais, a blank slate of exploration in writing, a think-tank for scholastic endeavors, and a pseudo water cooler for discussions. Having to move my blog, having to begin again, was a dramatic (and somewhat melancholic) leap into the cold(er)-hearted world of online communication. I knew I was sheltered at blogs.setonhill.edu—I had a lot of control over my blog, I knew how things worked, I was given readership, and my expectations about how a blogosphere works were consistently met. Now, on the other side, I'm learning that my readership is essentially gone, it's up to me to build (or retain) readership, and the person I built to stand behind Sugarpacket doesn't matter to these readers because they may not know, want to know, or care to investigate who I am/was with that blog (despite this post being littered with links to it—ha!).

But at nearly the same time I moved my blog, I introduced myself to another medium for communication, one that I had been reluctant to adopt for several reasons. Now that I'm on Twitter, though, I'm seeing some of its merits. It's quick, just-in-time delivery of multimedia with limited effort, time, or dedication. Conversely, blogging takes a little longer, might not be as immediate as tweeting (especially since tweeting can be accomplished from a cell phone, which could be cumbersome at best for blogging), and requires, in this blogger's opinion, more effort, time, and dedication.

People used to do liveblogging of events. Now they livetweet (and clog up your Twitter timeline!). People used to post thoughtful blogs about articles or events. Now they tweet and retweet links to extend a massive reverberation of tweet-tweet-tweet across the globe.

What I don't like about tweeting? It seems a little more direct (in-your-face) than blogging. Tweets can't be edited (or I haven't figured out how to do that yet). Identity building appears to take a much longer time (or is there truly any identity construction taking place by piling up links and tidbits of conversations fit for fortune cookies?).

I still prefer blogging. Tweeting has its place, but I'm still learning how to carve out that place in my online life. I haven't quite figured out the balance or the boundaries between blogging and tweeting.

Uninspired

I am incredibly uninspired lately. I don't quite know if it's the weather, but I think that might have something to do with it. Or it could be the stress I'm facing at work. Regardless, I haven't felt like writing anything lately.

I tweet occasionally. I joined eMusic today to give it a try. I read news online. I read friend's tweets and blogs. I'm reading my work friend's back issues of National Geographic. I'm rereading a few of my favorite books—Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, a volume of short stories from a lit class in college. But I feel like I have nothing to say. No commentary, no insight, no complaints or compliments.

I suppose I am in absorbing mode right now. I'm just taking it all in. Maybe later I'll feel like expounding.

Genius as group: being part of a genius

Who among us has jumped at the opportunity to do group work?

Sensing the crickets via blogosphere, I'm guessing most of us would rather work alone. Group projects present a myriad of difficulties, from scheduling and personality conflicts to leader/follower issues and unstated expectations of others. Throughout my scholastic career, I endured (yes, barely tolerated) many group projects. When teachers announced a group project, I prayed we were at least allowed to choose our partners. (In which case I would choose the best friends I had in the class, at least being able to rely on them more than the average classmate.) I loathed group work because it felt like I ended up doing most of the work (so why couldn't I just work alone?), that everyone else was slacking (thus stressing me and stifling my creativity) and therefore I had to pick up the slack and carry it—while carrying my own load—across the finish line. And then my hard-earned A became everyone's A.

You know the story well. Either you've lived it or your kid complains about it. This is the unavoidable grip of group work in our world. I'm not the only person who has experienced this and these experiences do not cease after scholastic endeavors end with pieces of paper declaring aptitude and capability.

Perhaps, now more than ever, group work prepares us for the real world... especially the smart, innovative, genius-hungry real world.

I don't use my own experiences as examples to suggest I'm a genius, so let's get that out of the way first. I'm also not saying that I don't like to work with people or don't work well with people. I like it (now) and I'm rather good at it. (I'm better off when I have some sort of leadership role, but I know that's not always possible.) I'm also not suggesting that group work is bad and shouldn't be used in schools because my training as a teacher has taught me that classroom-focused, student-centered, peer-to-peer learning allows for incredible learning potential not present in lecture-centered, teacher-centric classrooms. That, and the whole idea of "no man is an island" (thanks, Donne) rings true once students go home or out into the workforce.

What I'm suggesting is that even though smart kids tend to despise group work because the other kids tend to either expect (because they're lazy/apathetic) or allow (intuiting that the smart kid wants to be in charge) the smart kids to carry the bulk of the work, perhaps the smart kids should buckle down and realize that this will help them not only be better people ("works well with others" is still a bragging point?), but also grow towards the illustrious genius status.

Lehrer suggests that the current "dearth of geniuses" is because "our modern problems have gotten so hard – so damn intractable, complicated and multi-disciplinary – that we can no longer solve them by ourselves."

So instead of following the models of geniuses that have gone before, today's genius first has to join a group project with a variety of stakeholders with different disciplinary expertise to attack the world's problems. Does this mean that a person is no longer considered a genius but instead a part of a genius? Not that the title means much, but it's likely that the suggestion of genius brings with it some ego, respect, and, today more than ever, earning power.

Tweet and retweet

I joined Twitter today. I never thought I would, but I'm giving it a shot. Enjoy the Twitter feed to the right. Feel free to follow!

I also changed my blog title to "The Adventures of Grammarissa." I was given the nickname Grammarissa at work because of my penchant for grammar. When combined with my first name, Karissa, it fits well (despite the fact that my colleague tends to call me "Gramma").

Perhaps this is the new change I needed...

New blog, old blog

I'm attempting to migrate my old blog—my school blog, which I've kept for over seven years now—to Blogger, since the school is switching from Movable Type to Wordpress and is leaving old users (read: graduates who still blog) behind. I suppose it was only a matter of time, considering the university let us keep using its blogosphere for free. What I'll miss is the clout that came with having the university's name in my URL.

The archive of my old blog is almost 1gb of fun and Blogger kicked it back when I tried to upload it a few hours ago... I let the browser churn for about three hours before calling it quits and deciding to get this thing established in its own right.

I don't know exactly what will happen to my old blog, but it was called Sugarpacket. It may still exist somewhere in cyberspace, but I won't be able to post to it soon. Sionara...

My beloved Sugarpacket. The title suited me for years and perhaps still does, but I'm hesitant to continue blogging under that name. I'm trying to move into the professional world more and more, so it's possible that if my blog name reflects that I might find the transition easier. (This is all theory.) I'm not sure I like the title I came up with—The Glory of Writing—except that it was all I could think of when trying to get this new blog going.

We'll see if I can get the old blog to redirect to this new one... Wish me luck.