time – Page 5 – JonWestfall.com

January 12, 2014

Sentiment on Cats Not Influenced by Student Level or Time Of Year

Because I know everyone cares deeply on this issue, I’m happy to report that in a survey of 117 students, slightly less than half (46%) believe that they are “cute and cuddly and I lub them so much” while 53% feel “They’re antisocial and psychotic and I don’t trust them at all”. This difference is not significant (p = .4). Student level (100 versus 300 level class) and time of year (fall versus spring) also do not affect sentiment.

Conclusion: Half the population love little fur balls, fur balls that the other half of the population distrust deeply.

I apologize if this face causes evil flashbacks. But you are on the Internet, what do you expect? — I apologize if this face causes evil flashbacks.
But you are on the Internet, what do you expect?

Oh, if you’re wondering why I have this data – I use Socrative to collect quiz data from my classes and as part of the first day of class stuff, I have them take a demo quiz. I ask the cat question there, just for fun. I analyze it because I’m a big freakin’ geek.

November 24, 2013

Musing: What Digital Pictures Mean for Us Psychologically

A quick look at my Dropbox Camera Upload directory reveals that I take about 3-5 photos a day on average. They range from awesome to mundane, moments to remember, and moments that after a task is done, should be forgettable. But I save them all, because it’s too much work to weed through them and I don’t want to miss any golden ones. Tonight I wonder how this will change society psychologically over the next 30 years.

A Screenshot of my Camera Upload Directory

My parents have photo albums that have 10-20 photos per year in them. They are generally key moments, or at least moments when a camera with film in it was handy. There are no pictures of receipts, white boards, lunch, or random people seen in Walmart. But today we take all those types of photos, and more. And in 30 years, I might have around 1,400 photos per year = 42,000 photos that span a giant chunk of my life. What will this mean? Continue reading “Musing: What Digital Pictures Mean for Us Psychologically”

September 14, 2013

Which is More Difficult? Being a Student or a Professor?

With the new semester starting, I’ve had a lot of interactions with students as of late. Some are returning familiar faces, others are new faces that (in some situations) are new to college completely. They’re all undergraduates, taking 5 or so classes at one time, and many are trying to earn the highest possible grades in those classes.

The voice of the people - left for me on my office door from two students in Learning & Memory — The voice of the people – left for me on my office door from two students in Learning & Memory

It’s interesting to me to think about the roles and responsibilities in academia. The semester sees me shuffling from class to class, preparing lectures and activities, and of course grading. I spend several hours a week cruising around classrooms, telling jokes that my students mercifully laugh at, and making observations about my field and the material I’m presenting. In some cases I need to keep the conversation going for 75 minutes, or at the least direct attention toward an activity or video if I decide to rest my voice. I then retreat to my office, where I answer emails, respond to texts, post more bad jokes online (that my friends mercifully “like”), and grade assignments and exams. I also take time to work on research, follow-up with students and colleagues, and attend meetings.

Students have a similar routine – they move about classes, copiously write what professors like me say, download notes, skim textbooks (or even “read textbooks deeply” on occasion), and juggle requirements along with a myriad of campus activities, jobs, families, and friends.

In my mind it is debatable who has the more difficult job. For example, most of my effort is front-loaded into the semester. I can begin preparing classes months in advance if I like, where my students need to react as material is thrown at them – taking exams when I dictate, covering material that they’ve only had (in the best case scenario) 8 weeks to learn. I’ve learned the same material for over 10 years – so it’s no wonder I consider the exam questions “no brainers” – they came from my brain!

And at least when I do have to learn new material, I can fit it into my head’s schemas of information better than what my student’s face – they’re learning 5 new courses of content each semester with little to no overlap. What I learn from 3 journal articles may very easily overlap central concepts. How much overlap is there between, say, psychology and chemistry? Maybe 5%.

So I try to stay away from the easy way out – I don’t let myself think I have it harder just because I had to do 99% of the talking during the semester, or because I had to grade 50 exams whereas my students only had to take 1. It might be a long trek for me, but the path seems to be rockier for them.

Then again I may be wrong… wouldn’t be the first time! What do you think – is it harder to be a professor or a student?

July 20, 2013

Being a Kid is the Hardest Job You Ever Had

My friend Christine posted this morning that it was her little girl, Michelle’s, first sleepover last night. Her daughter refers to her sleepover friend as a “friend” or “sister” and, as Christine points out “Occasionally as ‘brother’, but we’re working on pronouns”. A cute moment for sure, and it reminded me of something I bring up to people semi-regularly both in and out of the classroom: Being a kid is the hardest job you ever had, or will ever have. Here’s 6 reasons why.

Continue reading “Being a Kid is the Hardest Job You Ever Had”

May 23, 2013

Why I Don’t Watch The News

I don’t watch the news. Saying that to someone will likely raise an eyebrow, especially since television is flooded with an abundance of news channels today. Growing up in northeast Ohio we had one local station that, by my count, had over a quarter of their broadcast day devoted to local news (if you’re wondering, not that much happens in Cleveland), and that was in addition to CNN and early versions of MSNBC and FOX News. It isn’t that I’m opposed to knowledge dissemination over the airways – it’s that I’m opposed to how I feel when taking in news that causes me to turn off the set. Specifically, I struggle with experiencing the wrong emotions.

A news van sits outside Columbia on March 29, 2010. I took this photo as I walked toward my building.

Continue reading “Why I Don’t Watch The News”

May 7, 2012

#97 Text To Speech

Sam never claimed that she was the most ‘girlish’ of girls. If prompted, she could act extremely feminine, however her natural state was more tempered, less stereotypical. One area where she seemed similar and different to her peers came in her use of a cell phone. While most 20-year-olds are glued to their phones, Sam didn’t enjoy texting so much as she enjoyed pushing her smartphone to do things most people her age had no interest in.

“But isn’t this cool?!?”, was her frequent cry, after showing some new trick she’d learned, or some tweak she’d implemented. Her friends would shrug and say “Yea…”, and then turn the subject to something they felt a bit more comfortable with.

Sam enjoyed listening to music on her phone, and was understandably intrigued by a new app promising to read her emails and text messages to her, pausing her music as needed. She quickly paid her $2 to download the app, and set it up.

The first time it sounded, Sam was shocked at the efficiency of the robotic voice that read her an incoming text. Over time, the robotic voice of her phone became more personable to her, and even earned a name, Martin.

With a busy schedule, there were days Martin spoke to Sam more than the rest of the world combined. Through workouts and trips, walks and unwinding after a long day, Martin would periodically interrupt to report on what was new in Sam’s life.

Then one day, Sam realized that Martin had been silent for a bit too long. A quick glance at her phone revealed her worst nightmare: The software update she’d applied earlier in the day had broken poor Martin, and no update for his software was yet available. Martin was gone, and Sam was inconsolable. Each morning she checked the manufacturer’s website, eagerly signing up for early beta access to a new version, and promising to test it fully if admitted.

Then one afternoon, about a week after Martin’s demise, it hit Sam. She had actually formed a sort of friendship with the robotic voice of her phone. It didn’t mind if she was geeky at heart, and it certainly didn’t talk unless it had something genuinely interesting to say. A man of few words, Sam was able to imagine a back story to Martin, not a stretch after she’d already personified it with a name. Martin’s departure felt almost as if a friend was missing.

It was then that Sam realized that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to follow her own usual path of moderation. She took her phone, navigated away from Martin’s manufacturer’s web forums, and called a friend she hadn’t talked to in a few months. As they caught up, she realized that perhaps a bit of Martin withdrawal wasn’t a bad thing.

[SSDay]

May 4, 2012

#94 A Simpler Time

Five minutes ago was a simpler time
One where I did not worry as much
Then life changed to frantic from sublime
Forcing decisions made in a clutch

Five minutes doesn’t seem sufficient
To turn one’s life upside down
However fate appears very proficient
It laughs as it knocks you around

Five days action in 300 seconds
It seems amazing to think
Action destroys as much as it beckons
Emotions both soar and sink.

[SSDay]

May 3, 2012

#93 White Wall

“Tag it man – hurry up!”

Javier stood there, staring at the wall. It was freshly painted, gleaming in a light grey.

“I will – I just want to make sure it’s perfect”

“Dude – it’s your tag – you’ve sprayed it a dozen times – just spray it again and let’s get out of here before the cops show up!”.

They were merely steps away from the precinct – and despite it being early in the morning, way before dawn, the place buzzed with some activity from time to time.

Javier had never had this problem before. Perhaps it was “spray dysfunction” or “spray anxiety” – for some reason, the blank surface intimidated him, and stopped him in his tracks.

“You stupid idiot”, his companion called, “Fine, I’ll do it”.

Javier’s tag, slightly off as sprayed by his companion, appeared on the wall.

They scampered off.

[SSDay]

April 30, 2012

#90 Teen Paranormal Romance

His steel cold frame encompassed her as they darted through the forest. Above, a full moon shine down, shimmering off the leaves in quick glances of light, blurring past her as they drew deeper into the growth. She’d only known him for 25 minutes, but for some inexplicable reason only possible in love stories written by those not ever having been hurt by another, she trusted him completely. He was strong, silent, masculine, handsome, and a vampire.

They stopped just short of the clearing. In the distance she could see movements of small forest creatures. The same sort you might see in a Disney film, except these didn’t talk. He laid her down on a bed of flowers, which she later realized were honestly just moss and weeds, but they felt like flowers to her.

“Oh Edmund”, she said softly, “This is so beautiful”.

“It is?”, he replied, skeptically eyeing the aforementioned woodland creatures and mossy bed, before quickly regaining his composure. “Yea… Beth… it is”.

“Are you going to tell me what it’s like to be a vampire?”, she said, relishing the last word as it came out of her mouth.

“I guess”, he said.

“Don’t you want to share it with me?”, she replied quizzically.

“It’s kinda dull honestly. I’m hungry most of the time, except I have an insatiable appetite for human blood instead of lattes or hamburgers. I don’t grow old, and for some reason in this version of my existence, I can’t turn into a bat, which kinda sucks”, he confided in her.

“It sounds dreamy”, she said slowly.

“Did you really just use the word ‘dreamy’?”, he asked.

“I suppose I did”, she swooned.

“Yea… sure….”, Edmund said as he came around the other side of his mossy half-effort-but-its-the-thought-that-counts bed. “Beth, I have to tell you something”.

“What is it?”, she asked.

“I’m kinda hungry, that’s why I brought you here”, Edmund said.

“You want to show me how you hunt?”, she said, peering deep into his cold, dead, sorta blackish with specs of brown eyes.

“Uh… Beth… you don’t get it do you”, Edmund said as he pulled out a bib, the same sort you see at value-priced lobster shanty restaurants. He couldn’t afford another dry cleaning charge this week.

“You want me to be with you forever?”, she inferred.

“Beth… I’m a frickin’ vampire. We met on Match after I literally told you in an email that you looked good enough to eat. I just figured you were suicidal or something, but now I can see – you’re just dumb and oblivious”, Edmund said as he opened his mouth, baring his fangs.

“Wait a minute – you don’t seem to be that romantic after all…” Beth said before she was cut off.

Jason, the werwolf, arrived in the clearing just in time to see Edmund untying his bib.

“I missed it again?!?”, Jason said incredulously.

“Told ya man, I work fast”, Edmund said with a laugh.

“One day I’m gonna get here ‘just in time'”, Jason said reluctantly.

“Sure”, Edmund said, “I guess some day you’ll get here early enough to rescue yourself a girlfriend, loser!”

Author’s Note: The title of this post was inspired by, honestly, a section at my local Barnes & Noble. They now have a shelf titled “Teen Paranormal Romance”. It’s right next to another shelf named (I kid you not), “New Teen Paranormal Romance”. Meanwhile, their computer book s are missing, and their science & engineering sections are hidden away!

[SSDay]

April 22, 2012

#83 The Plant

The plant sat serenely at the side of the desk. Every leaf a memory of the passage of time. Every branch a marker of a period of its growth, periods the family had marked by hours or days or weeks or months. The plant marked them as they were – extensions of itself, new life springing, moment by moment. The plant was not static, as the humans around periodically became. It did not regard change as something to be avoided, but as something to be embraced.

Then, in an instant, the plant was toppled by the cat.

Change happens, slow or swift. We just need to adapt to it, and we will survive.

[SSDay]