self-destructive students

There are certain aspects of the undergrad mentality that I just don’t understand. Some of these were certainly also true when I was an undergrad over a decade ago, but I didn’t understand typical undergrad quirks then, either. I mean things like:

• Doing one’s hair and makeup, then donning sweats for class
• Viewing class as an annoying interruption of one’s social life, and thus attending as few sessions as possible
• Starting papers the night before the due date, then expecting to earn an A
• Expecting professors to respond positively to greetingless, rambling email messages
• Expecting professors to like being called by their first names, even when they’ve introduced themselves as “Doctor” or “Professor,” and so forth.

This list was topped this week. I had an unprecedented interaction with an undergrad student who clearly just doesn’t get it.

I’d already had run-ins with this student (who will hereafter be referred to as “Super-Student” or SS), who has struggled in class but rarely attends. A couple of weeks ago, when I met with SS privately for a make-up exam (which SS demanded, not requested, an hour before the exam was scheduled to occur), SS told me to my face “I don’t see the point of the latter 3/4 of your class, as it’s not relevant to my major.” SS then continued on to say “The fact that your class is at 5 p.m. makes it so hard for me to concentrate on the material… It’s just hard for me to stay awake and make myself come to lectures because it’s Thursday night and it already feels like the weekend.” I responded with something along the lines of  “This is no longer the case once you leave college and are functioning in the adult world.”

SS’s response: “What, Wednesday already feels like the weekend?”

My response: Stunned silence. Uh, grown-ups typically work on Friday!!!

Earlier this week my students completed course evals at the start of class. Per the standard operating procedure at my university, my grad assistant adminstered them and I waited outside in the hallway until she was finished. About 10 minutes after the start of class, a thin trickle of students starts filing out of the lecture hall, and I heard my grad assistant announce “You’re still having class once we’re done with evals.” A minute or so later, SS left the room with a friend, and I caught just the tail end of hu’s sentence. SS said “… and those in-class activities are just so stupid!”

SS obviously hadn’t seen me standing in the hallway, and this was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. I had to call hu on it, and replied “So, they are stupid, huh?”

Look of panic crosses SS’s face. A few seconds later, hu and friend had reached me in the hallway and SS started back-pedaling. “Well, I mean, just your homework assignments are stupid. I don’t mean you’re stupid. You’re kind of cool. But it’s dumb that we have to be in class to get the points for the assignments.”

I repeated the same line I’ve always used for these assignments, which is “In-class assignments are included in the grade because I’m rewarding good behavior. Requiring students to be in class in order to get or do the assignment encourages students to be responsible by rewarding them for regular attendance.I don’t allow make-ups because they’re a pain and having a make-up option allows students to be irresponsible.”

SS didn’t respond to this, although hu did look a bit sheepish. All hu said next was “Can I take our final early? It’s a total pain for me that it’s scheduled for Saturday of exams week. I know you didn’t pick the time, but I really need to be gone by then because my family is leaving for our spring vacation that day.”

I kid you not. Apparently somebody didn’t bother to check the exam schedule before the family booked their plane tickets. How irresponsible can one person be, even at age 19?

I didn’t say this, but could only think “Thank you for making final grade calculations just a little bit easier. I am now certain that if your points are on the borderline between letter grades, I won’t even need to consider rounding up.”

I’m letting SS take the exam 4 days early, mostly because I want to wash my hands of this situation. My only consolation is that I just posted the study guide yesterday, so SS will have far less time to prep for the exam than my more responsible students.

Thank goodness summer is coming! I need a break from so many irresponsible children!

an ADD-friendly adaption of the 10-10-10 plan decision making

This morning I was watching the Today show as I prepared for work. I usually have it on while I get ready, as it’s a great way to keep on schedule in the morning. The segments are short, and they regularly announce the time, so it’s a lot harder to procrastinate with constant, cheery reminders. Today Suzy Welch was on the show promoting her new book 10-10-10: A Life-Transforming Idea.

Granted, this is an oversimplification, but the gist of the 10-10-10 plan is that whenever somebody needs to make a decision, they should stop and ask themselves about the consequences of that decision/action in the next 10 minutes, the next 10 months, and the next 10 years. The best/right decision is the one that leads people to  where they want to be 10 minutes, 10 months, or 10 years later.

I was intrigued by this simple plan both as an ADDer and an academic who professionally studies issues related to this, but also because I’d intuitively come up with a way to do this on my own, and have been using a modified version of this strategy for at least the last two years.  I can see how this would be particularly challenging for ADDers, who might end up feeling overwhelmed by the 10-10-10 plan.  I know that this strategy could be difficult to employ in the heat of the moment, but I think it’s worth it to give it a try, with or without an ADD-friendly modification.

Part 1: Set aside a few free moments and figure out where you want to be in 10 months and in 10 years. If this seems too distant, think in the increments that work best for you. I tend to think about where I want to be 6 months, 1 year, and 5 years from now. I write these down in one of my notebooks, and keep notes on the steps to reach these goals (i.e., what I’ve accomplished, what I still need to do, back-up plans in case things go wrong along the way). Revisit this plan on a regular basis as suits you, and make changes as your life and goals change. Knowing what you want out of life makes it easier to do the second part, which is the ADD-friendly modification.

Part 2: A short-term modification of this strategy is key for staying on track in day-to-day life, particularly for getting through those “off-track” moments. I suggest a 1-1-1 approach. Whenever I catch myself doing something counterproductive (e.g., procrastinating on Facebook, not doing whatever is on my daily list, etc.), I take about 30 seconds and ask myself “How is this getting me where I need to be in in one minute? In one hour? In one day?” If I’m having a really bad procrastination day, I ask myself “What am I doing in this one moment that is going to keep me from meeting the day’s goals? How else will I go off track for the rest of the week and month if I don’t keep on track right now?” (Disclaimer: As beating yourself up can be counterproductive for ADDers, I don’t recommend bringing out this second set of cognitions unless your motivation is at major lows).

As all the ADD books say, it’s all about small steps and keeping yourself motivated. Knowing where you want to go is a big part of this, and structuring your life so you can get there is another important piece.

contemplating a change of direction

A couple of realizations and events have started me thinking about a possible change of life direction. It’s not a huge shift… really just a subtle shift that I’ve wanted to try for a while.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always loved to read and write. In junior and senior high school, I was always the student winning the writing prizes at my school and in my local area. I had short stories published in student literary newspapers, and even read one of them on our local NPR station. In college I was drawn to a career in academia because of writing (specifically the challenge of academic writing), and I currently spend most of my time at work writing or reviewing others’ written work. I blog when I have the free time (obviously!). In sum, I’ve always loved to write, and I’ve been reasonably good at it for quite some time.

I still love to write, but my enthusiasm for academic writing has slowly waned over the years, starting in grad school. As a grad student, it depressed and bothered me that I could feel a little bit of creativity disappear for every professional writing skill I mastered. But, one of the major points of graduate training is to learn the formula for one’s chosen discipline, and once a student masters that particular recipe for writing, they are able to produce bland academic texts. Academic writing is formulaic (i.e., every article follows the same general format, and I even use the same phrases over and over again in all of my publications). I mastered my two grad advisors’ shared recipe so well that when the three of us write together, we can no longer tell who produced any particular passages of text.  There’s very little room for true creativity; peer reviewers will justifiably reject articles that deviate from the accepted writing formula. I’ve done this myself as a reviewer on multiple occasions.  Overall, as I’ve become more competent with accumulated experience, academic writing has become less challenging. I enjoy it less because I’m able to do it better, but doing academic writing well means having zero imagination. This kills me.

For years I’ve wanted to write a novel. I jotted down lots of ideas for storylines during my grad school days, and have kept notes on others that have come to mind since then. I just have never had the time to follow through on any of my ideas. All of my time has always been dedicated to getting ahead at work, which has meant grinding out publications as quickly as possible, but I’ve never really felt like I was truly on the right path. It’s almost like I’ve been living in a room painted beige, and even pretending to like it, when I knew I wanted the walls to be bright red.

I’m thrilled that I now feel situated to paint at least half of the room red. In fact, I think the best, healthiest thing for me it to start doing this as soon as possible.

Here’s why: A couple of months ago I turned in my first semester binder for evaluation. This binder included a written report of my progress in teaching, research and scholarship, as well as my teaching evaluations, published articles, documentation of service, and so forth. This is how the department chair and various committees and “higher ups” make determinations about tenure, promotions, raises, and firings. I’ve now received my feedback on my first semester’s progress at my new institution, and it was unanimously excellent. I am exactly where I should be for teaching and service at this point, and I’m performing far above where I  need to be for research productivity (in fact, I produced about 50% more in one semester than most of my colleagues produced during a full academic year). After 10+ years running full-speed like a hamster in a wheel, I can finally relax a little bit. Quite simply, I don’t have to keep working as hard as I’ve been working in order to do well enough at my institution. I can scale back my research, do more of my teaching & service during the normal school day (time I usually spend on research), and thus have my evenings and weekends free for doing things I really want to do.

What I really want to do is write something fun. I’m good at it and enjoy it. I deserve it. Even if it doesn’t ‘go anywhere,’ it will be worth it to me to feel like my creative self again.

These last few months I’ve been drained, and it’s been making me miserable. I’ve been on spring break this past week and have been too tired to even put away the clean laundry that’s been piling up for over 2 months. I’m just too dead. The highlight of my week was reading the entire Twilight series from start to finish (my new favorite; Melissa, thanks for recommending it to me!). But, reading Stephenie Meyer’s emotionally-charged writing and feeling so excited about it has motivated me to start thinking toward my other goals, which really *are* compatible with my professional direction. I hope that this will have a carry-over effect: If I’m happier in my free time, then maybe the beige walls of academia will be even more tolerable.

A part of me is terrified… so many worries.  What if this is just an “ADD moment” of impulsive decision-making? Can I really balance it all without going crazy? Am I just trying to escape a slightly imperfect career fit?  What if I’m truly unable to be creative now that my I’m such a practiced academic writer? What if I end up being the cliched academic who tries to turn novelist and fails enormously? What if I start working on this story idea and then it all falls apart? What if I only have the one story in me?

Perhaps worst of all, what if I never try and always regret it?

I think it’s finally time to take the plunge. As I stand at the end of the springboard and stare down into the pool below, I couldn’t be happier that I’m about to jump…

zombie students!

I don’t buy in to Freudian-like dream analysis at all. I’ve always subscribed to the theory that dreaming is the product of random neuron firings during our sleep, and that this is one of the ways our brains make memories. Every so often, I have a dream that seems to have symbolic value, and I have to eat my words on this theoretical issue. Early this morning I had one of those dreams.

I dreamed that Hubby and I were back living in Grad School City, and that I was starting seeds for the garden (something I will actually do later this week once my seeds arrive in the mail). Our house was packed with people: my younger brother, a bunch of his friends, long-time family friends, random strangers, etc. I was happily starting nasturium seeds when the dream changed into a zombie dream. One of my students was the zombie who ambled into our house through an window to the back yard, moaning and groaning as they struggled along. Luckily one of my brother’s friends had a baseball bat on hand and took care of it immediately (a la Shawn of the Dead). Most of the rest of the dream was a struggle to fortify the house’s weak points (a la I am Legend), keep the healthy people indoors (I recall going to the park to buy sandwiches at a food stand), and avoid the zombies on the ground (a la Dawn of the Dead). I recall quite a few other students mixed in amongst the zombies on the ground, including the ones I had to avoid while running through the park. As if a sandwich stand would be open during a zombie attack!

I usually *hate* having zombie dreams because they’re typically the scary variety (i.e., the kind where I can get to the phone but can’t make my fingers push the buttons properly). I woke up laughing after this one because I knew its source. No, I don’t actually have undead students who try to eat my brain, and most of them speak instead of moaning and groaning.

It’s not that they’re literally eating my brain, but they are definitely figuritively eating it.  I just hadn’t made the connection until I woke up early this morning after this weird, funny dream. Last night after class I had a queue of over a dozen students who needed to ask me questions. Most of these questions were of the mundane variety, issues that they could have figured out independently if they’d taken the time to look at the syllabus and other course materials.  I didn’t get to leave the classroom until 15 minutes after class officially ended, and then with post-class paperwork, I didn’t get to leave campus until around the time I usually arrive at home. Over the course of the day, I received at least a half-dozen other emails with similar inquiries. I felt so brain-dead by the time I arrived home that I just had to go for a walk instead of doing other work or home-management tasks.

Clearly I really need spring break. Good thing it’s coming soon! I can spend this time fortifying our house and building a panic room in our attic…

new rules for my blog

Part of the reason for my long absence was that I was contemplating ending this blog. On one hand, it started to feel like a personal liability, and on the other, I didn’t feel like I was meeting my goals for starting the blog. For the time being, I’ve decided to keep it going, but there are going to be some new rules.

Regarding it feeling like a liability… Non-academics might think academics are paranoid about protecting their “private selves” from the public at large (e.g., students and their parents), but let me assure you that there’s good cause for our paranoia. For example, my students regularly try to “Friend” me on facebook so they can see my profile and photos. Also, when candidates are on the job market, it’s not unusual for search chairs to “google” them to see what else is on the web in their name. Consequently, I have to be vigilant about the information that is publicly available. In sum, I blog anonymously for a reason. I ask that you please respect me on this matter, even if you know me in the real world.  I’ve opted to change my policy on comments so I may have better oversight. From this point forward, all comments will be moderated and will not appear on posts until I’ve approved them.  Don’t let this hold you back from commenting… just respect my privacy and your comments will show up as promptly as possible.

The reason I blog anonymously is because much of what I’ve written here details my personal journey with the mental health system in addition to my experiences as an ADDer in the academy. I do this both for my own benefit and for others out there like me.  I started this blog was to find other academics stuggling with the same types of issues, but unfortunately, there aren’t very many out there or my little blog hasn’t reached them.  I hope that this situation continues to improve, and that we can build a network of addled professionals together.

how to schedule exercise

After a prolonged hiatus, I am back! The grant(s) are in, and I finally feel like I’m reasonably on top of things again.

The only goal I’m not meeting so well right now is exercise. I’m not getting enough, particularly since moving to New City, where I am forced to drive everywhere because there is no infrastructure for walking. This is troubling because exercise is good for health, good for helping to minimize ADD symptoms, and can help with sleep (see helpful posts by Tara and Jennifer Koretsky on this very topic).

The problem with exercise is fitting it in my schedule/life. When I wake up in the morning (7 am), I’m groggy and need my morning caffeine and a bite to eat. Then I shower, get ready, and go to work for the day (arrive around 9-9.30). Three days/week I teach until after 6 pm, and on those days, I am ravenous for dinner once I arrive at home. I eat dinner. Then I’m too full to exercise, and it’s too late, as it will end up “revving me up” too much for me to sleep at a normal hour. Go to bed. Sleep. Repeat.

I fear having to set my alarm and start the day any earlier because I’m already pretty worn out by the time I’m done teaching class. I don’t function well at 6 am, particularly not on an empty stomach.

I’m curious… how do other academics (with or without ADD) make this work in their schedules without driving themselves crazy?

still here

Just buried under a pile of grants. Things will be better next week. More soon….

the end is nigh

It’s the last week of the semester. Hooray I anticipated getting to do some research this week, but things haven’t quite worked out as I’d planned.

Instead, in the 400-level class for majors, I have:

• Graded 40 papers
• Caught 8 students plagiarizing on their papers
• Rebuked 4 of them in person over their offenses
• Been impressed by their maturity when meeting with me about their plagiarism (two even apologized for making my job harder!)
• Offered an incomplete and extra help to a crying student completely unprepared to do work at the 400-level
• Given 1 exam
• Not yet graded 5×40 short-answer questions

In the next 48 hours, I will

• Grade those pesky short answer questions
• Give an exam in my 100-level course
• Calculate & post grades for both courses
• Finish assembling my first year review packet
• Finish commenting on a draft of a masters’ thesis
• Make notes on my syllabi so I remember how I want to change them for next semester/year
• Return to the research paper I last worked on about 2 months ago & hopefully finish it enough to send it back to the 2nd author
• Halfheartedly clean the house in anticipation of my brother-in-law’s arrival on Sunday
• Do all of our holiday shopping (three cheers for the internet!)

a clarification on my November post about knowing more than my doctor

I *loved* this comment from PreMedAA so much that I’m going to write a whole post in response to it. This comment followed my early-November post about my annoyance with my new psychiatrist.

The background for readers who don’t want to refer back to old posts (plus filling in some gaps I’ve previously omitted to help hide my real identity): I switched shrinks when I moved to a new state over the summer. Hubby and I knew that we wanted to start to try for a family sometime this autumn, which was my first in a faculty position after 3 years in a health sciences postdoc. Having discussed the issue of medication and pregnancy at length with my old shrink (a fellow in geriatric psychiatry at one of the best psychiatric hospitals in the nation who I very much  miss), I was keenly invested in seeking the best care possible in my new setting. My old shrink was supportive, and asked me to keep in touch with her about my treatment in this new setting. My old shrink appreciated that since Hubby and I have started talking seriously about kids, two limitations have been foremost on my mind: a) I’m able to work up to my full potential because of ritalin, and taking a 2-year break from it in order to conceive could potentially tank my chances for tenure, and b) having spent 9 years in pre- and postdoctoral training, I’m no longer a spring chicken. If we’re going to start a family, we need to start trying soon, or we risk running out of time.

S0, imagine my dismay when I called for an appointment at my new university’s med center specialty AD/HD clinic (in July) and found out I’d have to wait 2 months in order to get an appointment (September). My dismay was further magnified when I met my new doc and discovered how inexperienced she was. I brought up the pregnancy & meds issue at our first appointment in September. She promised to do research before our next appointment, and wrote me a prescription for the SSRI I take for PMDD (note: she wrote it for the bi-weekly dosing, which is quite standard for treating PMDD). When I came back in October, she hadn’t yet done any research on pregnancy & ritalin. I brought up the research I’d done on my own and with my old doc. She promised to look into it and get back to me. When I came back in November, she still hadn’t done any research and seemed to have forgotten about the bi-weekly dosing of SSRIs for PMDD (despite having written the prescription herself just weeks before). She promised to consult with her network of supervisors and colleagues, and assured me she would call me in a week. I had to call her a week later to remind her of our phone appointment. She was rather unprepared when she called me back, and asked me to come in before Thanksgiving for a short chat in person about the literature & promised to bring an important research publication. I made (& paid for) the extra appointment, for which she ran 30 minutes late. She forgot to bring the article (promised to fax it, but it still hasn’t happened & I’m not holding my breath), but still couldn’t say anything conclusive or provide me any strong evidence for any option during pregnancy. She pushed really, really  hard for my trying fish oil, which apparently shows decent efficacy with young children (alas, if I were only in the 2nd grade and just learning simple multiplication instead of spending my days doing matrix algebra…).  So I’m still on hold, and yet can’t get another appointment in the clinic until  early January.

So, my hubby and I have put off trying to conceive for an additional 6-7 months, and 4 months of that delay is due to my new shrink being inexperienced and inefficient. I’ve also wasted a total of 4 hours of my semester in the waiting room filled with people who function at a far, far lower level than I do… and to put this in practical terms, 4 hours = the preparation of 1 full lecture or 4 written pages of a research article.  The bottom line is that I sought a specialty clinic thinking it would save me time and effort, and I probably could have received better treatment from a GP.

(I suspect that quite a few ADDer readers have had similar treatment experiences. My situation is anything but unique.)

So, now I’ll deal with PreMedAA’s lovely comments…

Would you have preferred for the resident to attempt to cover her ignorance and simply take her ‘best educated guess’?

A physician at any level may not have confident answers on the tip of their tongue, especially if their patient has a keen grasp of pharmacology and medicine.

I agree with you; no, I wouldn’t want her to ‘cover’ by making a guess, but a competent medical professional in a specialty clinic shouldn’t need 3-4 months to come up with an answer to this sort of question, regardless of who the patient is, or how threatening the patient’s competence is to the physician’s ego. It’s not like ADD is a new condition, and I’m hardly the first woman who wants to get pregnant without tanking her career by going totally med-free.

Stating that you know more about something than a doctor may or may not be true. Your ‘knowledge’ may have been garnered from secondary sources or your educational background may be insufficient to properly digest the primary pharmacodynamics proposed by the manufacturing company. Your doctor is not a CPS or PDR, if they were, those compendiums wouldn’t exist.

Actually, I have a Ph.D. in the health sciences, and my research specialty is self-regulation, the set of skills directly impacted by the medical condition of AD/HD. It takes longer to get a Ph.D. in  my field than it does for a M.D. to complete medical school, and I have 3+ years of postdoctoral training on top of that. Furthermore, I’m 2+ years past diagnosis, and have been very actively involved in my treatment. This has included spending a great deal of my free time reading the literature on AD/HD and medication. Yes, I read the primary sources, and yes, I understand them, even the “yucky” stats part in the middle. In short, I have more years of research training in the field, and unless my doc has ADD herself, then most likely I also have more first-hand experience.

If you were particularly impatient, which you claim to be, then perhaps stating your acceptance of her consultation of her reference books in your presence would have saved you both time, as its likely that she didn’t feel dragging out the books in front of you would inspire much confidence, which you could have offered to alleviate.

For pete’s sake… the November post as just a blog entry, not a direct transcript of my conversation with my doctor. I actually would respect her more if she had dragged out her reference books. Of course I consented to allow her to consult with colleagues and do further independent research. I’ve repeatedly told her that I understand that residents are still training, and have also repeatedly expressed a desire to consult about primary references (i.e., current research). She’s the one who’s not been willing or able to meet me halfway on this. How much more open, supportive, and non ego-threatening can I really be? How long should someone be reasonably expected to wait?

You claim to know more about treating ADD/ADHD than your 1st year psychiatry resident-attending physician which is unlikely unless your a physician yourself and in the case of Adderall…at least a pharmacologist.

I’m not writing anything else about my specific academic credentials because I risk outing myself, and that’s  not a good thing pre-tenure.  Just a few points… a) she’s a 1st year resident, not an attending; b) it’s “you’re,” not “your,” and your sentence structure doesn’t make much sense; c) finally, if you’d bothered to read any of my other entries, you’d realize that I take ritalin, not adderall.

But since you don’t have time to permit your physician to ensure the validity of her counsel, then perhaps you ought to consult with a pharmacist about the possible effects of your drug regime on pregnancy…and perhaps they would be familiar with your atypical SSRI rotation.

The possibility that you havn’t done this already on your own suggests that such comments in regard to having a superior clinical knowledge of your diagnosis may not be advisable on your part, especially towards a medical professional.

Doctors are not gods, and the rest of us are not “lesser” beings.  Contrary to the belief of many MDs, they don’t know everything, they do make mistakes, their time is no more valuable than anybody else’s, and they don’t deserve to be treated any better or worse than anyone else.  I’ve given her plenty of time, and she’s wasted it. As a faculty member who is currently working 60+ hour weeks, I don’t have time or the patience to train somebody how to do their job OR remind them about how they’ve treated my condition at previous appointments. In these circumstances, I shouldn’t have to bend over backwards or jeopardize any aspect of my future in order to keep them from feeling badly about themselves or their abilities.

grant is submitted

Earlier in this busy semester, my application for a grantwriting seminar was accepted. I was very disappointed about this, because I really didn’t want to do the grantwriting seminar in my first semester as a new faculty member. I knew that writing the grant on top of everything else would just be too much. But, I couldn’t back out because I’d signed a contract stating I’d submit the stupid thing by 25 November or somebody would have to pick up the tab, so to speak.

I’m proud to say that this very afternoon, I submitted a mostly-complete first draft of the grant (all except the budget & narrative). It’s not the greatest thing I’ve ever written, but I held up my end of the bargain. I can stop thinking about the application, and can get back to focusing on making it through my first semester!

Just 1 week & finals week left to go….