I recently ran across a news story that made me realize that you guys might not know what is or isn't plagiarism.
Basically, any time you go to a source outside your own head, you need to cite your source. My 101 students don't have to use research; my 102 students don't need to except for the last paper. However, if you do use any type of outside source, you have to cite your source internally, in a parenthetical reference (explained in your Hacker handbook), and in a Works Cited entry at the end of your paper.
When it comes to blogs, I expect you to link your sources, like I did above. It's explained in the textbooks I created for you, in the Course Documents section of whichever class you've signed up for. If the linking doesn't work for you, e-mail me at hollychism@hotmail.com, and we'll try to figure out what's going on.
There are consequences for not properly citing your sources. The least that will happen if I determine that you've purposely plagiarized is that you'll fail the paper (101) or the class (102), and get reported to the proper authorities for it to go into your permanent school record. If I can tell it's not on purpose, you fail the paper until you revise to cite your sources.
Let me know in the comments, in the General Questions thread on the course site, or by e-mail, if you have any questions.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Pregnancy update
According to BabyCenter's due date calculator, I'm about 9 weeks into things. For the most part, morning sickness has settled down to only half the day, rather than all day like with my first baby. And it's not "morning" anymore when it hits. Mine starts about 2:00-3:00 p.m.
I'll be having my first prenatal care appointment with the midwife that I saw with Daniel. I can't recommend Sue Lazarus with OB/GYN Associates enough. She and her colleagues are first rate.
Another thing I can't recommend enough is that, if your insurance doesn't include maternity coverage, they offer a HUGE self-pay discount: two years ago, the discount was almost a full grand. Freeman Hospital, which is what OB/GYN Associates is affiliated with, also has a HUGE self-pay discount.
Well, I guess that'll be all for now. Next time I update will be sometime after we've heard the heartbeat. Take care, all.
I'll be having my first prenatal care appointment with the midwife that I saw with Daniel. I can't recommend Sue Lazarus with OB/GYN Associates enough. She and her colleagues are first rate.
Another thing I can't recommend enough is that, if your insurance doesn't include maternity coverage, they offer a HUGE self-pay discount: two years ago, the discount was almost a full grand. Freeman Hospital, which is what OB/GYN Associates is affiliated with, also has a HUGE self-pay discount.
Well, I guess that'll be all for now. Next time I update will be sometime after we've heard the heartbeat. Take care, all.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Coolness.
I will admit it: I'm an Anglophile*. I like, specifically, info about British history around the Medieval period, and earlier. That's why this story caught my eye.
Basically, archeologists in Germany believe they may have found the bones of a Anglo-Saxon British princess from the tenth century who was the Princess Di of her times. According to the news story, Princess Eadgyth (pronounced "Edith") was sent to marry an ambitions Germanic Saxon duke who later became the first Holy Roman Emperor. Note the story says they may have found her: apparently, during those times, it was common to move remains around, possibly to make room in crowded church environs, possibly to preserve the dead from grave robbers looking for her jewelry, or perhaps a relic. They will be doing tests to figure out whether it actually could be her, or if it's someone else.
This story interested me for a few reasons: first, the idea of a lost princess appealed to the romantic in me. When I pulled the story up, I was even more intrigued, because she dated back to one of my favorite periods, that before the Norman conquest of England. During that particular time--between England belonging to the Celts and being conquered by the Norman French--society had had far more in common with ours, with regards to equality between the sexes, and responsibility between the classes. Literacy, in this period, was fairly common, as well, as was demonstrated by just how much information there is about Princess Eadgyth.
According to the widespread writings about the princess, and according to the way she was written about, she really was the Princess Diana of her century.
Another reason I chose this story is simple: it has nothing to do with politics, foreign policy, or economic policy. I do follow such, but there's so much out there that's depressing that I simply needed--and still need--a break from writing about it.
*Anglophile: someone who enjoys most things British
Basically, archeologists in Germany believe they may have found the bones of a Anglo-Saxon British princess from the tenth century who was the Princess Di of her times. According to the news story, Princess Eadgyth (pronounced "Edith") was sent to marry an ambitions Germanic Saxon duke who later became the first Holy Roman Emperor. Note the story says they may have found her: apparently, during those times, it was common to move remains around, possibly to make room in crowded church environs, possibly to preserve the dead from grave robbers looking for her jewelry, or perhaps a relic. They will be doing tests to figure out whether it actually could be her, or if it's someone else.
This story interested me for a few reasons: first, the idea of a lost princess appealed to the romantic in me. When I pulled the story up, I was even more intrigued, because she dated back to one of my favorite periods, that before the Norman conquest of England. During that particular time--between England belonging to the Celts and being conquered by the Norman French--society had had far more in common with ours, with regards to equality between the sexes, and responsibility between the classes. Literacy, in this period, was fairly common, as well, as was demonstrated by just how much information there is about Princess Eadgyth.
According to the widespread writings about the princess, and according to the way she was written about, she really was the Princess Diana of her century.
Another reason I chose this story is simple: it has nothing to do with politics, foreign policy, or economic policy. I do follow such, but there's so much out there that's depressing that I simply needed--and still need--a break from writing about it.
*Anglophile: someone who enjoys most things British
Don't you just love bureaucracies (Sample rant)?
I love bureaucracies. They make life easier for all of us, don't they?
Okay, okay. No more sarcasm.
I am about ready to blow a fuse, right now. I cannot access my Lionet account. My account has been "disabled." That means I cannot access my class rosters, my pay information, or anything else like that I need.
Why?
As an adjunct, I'm employed by the semester. That means every semester, I have to sign a new contract. Which is then sent to human resources. Who won't take it if it's too early (and then the contract employee gets their contract back, usually after the deadline to submit it, and has to rush to get a new one turned in), and pitch a fit if it's too late. All in all, there's a window of about a week where they want to get all the contracts put through.
So, where does this tie in with me not being able to access anything? Well, the human resources cooperate with the tech department to let them know who needs an account with Lionet for work, so that accounts can be up and running for those who are university employees.
They also let the tech department know who's not working, so that accounts can be disabled. Like mine was. Because they don't know who's going to be working for them until they get the contracts. And they won't accept the various departments' words that so-and-so will be teaching for us next semester--not until they get those contracts. Which they won't accept until between this date and this date. But they tell the tech department that so-and-so won't need an account the week before they are willing to accept contracts.
And don't ask me why, but they won't accept contracts that so-and-so agrees to teach for the university for Fall semester of x year, and Spring semester of y year (one full academic year). Nope, they want new contracts for each semester.
And, in the meantime, those of us stuck in the cogs of the bureaucracy have to remind them "Hey, I'm still working for you guys...can I have access to the software I need to work for you guys? And can I please see my pay stubs? Pretty please?" with each semester.
(There's another rant there--but I'm sure you don't want to hear it.)
I love my job. I really do. There's no feeling in the world like being able to help students learn what they really need to know to be successful (and writing is one of those skills that's kind of vital, no matter what you end up doing--unless it's flipping burgers or pushing an idiot stick*, and you don't need even a high school diploma for that). I even love this university--I loved it when I was a student, and I still love it from the other side of the desk.
What I don't love about it (or any other large organization, really) is how the bureaucrats adore making the rest of us miserable in their petty power trips.
*idiot stick--a stick with a shovel or mop head at one end, and an idiot on the other.
Okay, okay. No more sarcasm.
I am about ready to blow a fuse, right now. I cannot access my Lionet account. My account has been "disabled." That means I cannot access my class rosters, my pay information, or anything else like that I need.
Why?
As an adjunct, I'm employed by the semester. That means every semester, I have to sign a new contract. Which is then sent to human resources. Who won't take it if it's too early (and then the contract employee gets their contract back, usually after the deadline to submit it, and has to rush to get a new one turned in), and pitch a fit if it's too late. All in all, there's a window of about a week where they want to get all the contracts put through.
So, where does this tie in with me not being able to access anything? Well, the human resources cooperate with the tech department to let them know who needs an account with Lionet for work, so that accounts can be up and running for those who are university employees.
They also let the tech department know who's not working, so that accounts can be disabled. Like mine was. Because they don't know who's going to be working for them until they get the contracts. And they won't accept the various departments' words that so-and-so will be teaching for us next semester--not until they get those contracts. Which they won't accept until between this date and this date. But they tell the tech department that so-and-so won't need an account the week before they are willing to accept contracts.
And don't ask me why, but they won't accept contracts that so-and-so agrees to teach for the university for Fall semester of x year, and Spring semester of y year (one full academic year). Nope, they want new contracts for each semester.
And, in the meantime, those of us stuck in the cogs of the bureaucracy have to remind them "Hey, I'm still working for you guys...can I have access to the software I need to work for you guys? And can I please see my pay stubs? Pretty please?" with each semester.
(There's another rant there--but I'm sure you don't want to hear it.)
I love my job. I really do. There's no feeling in the world like being able to help students learn what they really need to know to be successful (and writing is one of those skills that's kind of vital, no matter what you end up doing--unless it's flipping burgers or pushing an idiot stick*, and you don't need even a high school diploma for that). I even love this university--I loved it when I was a student, and I still love it from the other side of the desk.
What I don't love about it (or any other large organization, really) is how the bureaucrats adore making the rest of us miserable in their petty power trips.
*idiot stick--a stick with a shovel or mop head at one end, and an idiot on the other.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Firsts
This past year has been a series of firsts: first child, first terror for the child, first night home with the baby, first full nights' sleep after the baby's birth...you get the picture.
Last week saw two more firsts with Danny: his first birthday, and his first time pulling up onto his knees on something.
His first birthday was a lot of fun. We started the day taking a different route to visit his paternal grandparents, because he won't sleep in the car--at all, no matter how tired he is--if he knows we're going there. So, we had to trick him into taking his hour-long morning nap.
He refused his cake, at first. I'd given him his lunch, then handed him a slice of homemade bread to gnaw on while everyone else ate lunch. And he refused--refused-- to give up that slice of bread. Even for cake. It wasn't until that was gone that he was willing.
Then again, after we'd gone to Bella Peppers the week before, we knew he liked bread. Especially garlic bread.
After lunch and playtime with Grandma and Grandpa, we tricked him into taking another nap, by taking a country highway from Andrew's parents' home to my mother's. He got a little bitty burger patty that my mom made (and put through the blender) especially for him, and fries. He loves fries. And then we realized, as we watched him demolish two cupcakes (instead of eating them), that we'd forgotten our camera.
We tried to get a good monkey picture to compare with the ones I'd previously posted, but he wouldn't stay still. I'm posting one where he'd rolled against the monkey, and gotten up on his hands and knees next to it. Should show just how big he's gotten, in contrast to the four day old picture.
The other big first comes with a funny little story. My husband and I have watched the baby watch the cat with delight (it's furry, and soft, and I want it!), and the cat watch the baby with horror and revulsion (it screams! and it moves! and it's bigger than me!) for the past year. The cat laying on the floor is what spurred Danny into rocking forward and learning to crawl. My husband and I joked that it would be the cat, asleep on the couch, that would get him to pull up.
Well, not quite. The cat was asleep on my lap, not on the couch. But it was Danny's desperate desire to get his hands on the cat that prompted him to walk his little hands up the front of my chair, and get up onto his knees.
And the cat promptly ran up my chest, up the back of the chair, down the other side of the back of the chair, and through the baby gate and the kitchen, all the way back to the den. It's the only place she knows the imp can't get to her.
It's been a hectic year, and a hectic week, and I wouldn't trade most of it for anything.
Last week saw two more firsts with Danny: his first birthday, and his first time pulling up onto his knees on something.
His first birthday was a lot of fun. We started the day taking a different route to visit his paternal grandparents, because he won't sleep in the car--at all, no matter how tired he is--if he knows we're going there. So, we had to trick him into taking his hour-long morning nap.
He refused his cake, at first. I'd given him his lunch, then handed him a slice of homemade bread to gnaw on while everyone else ate lunch. And he refused--refused-- to give up that slice of bread. Even for cake. It wasn't until that was gone that he was willing.
Then again, after we'd gone to Bella Peppers the week before, we knew he liked bread. Especially garlic bread.
After lunch and playtime with Grandma and Grandpa, we tricked him into taking another nap, by taking a country highway from Andrew's parents' home to my mother's. He got a little bitty burger patty that my mom made (and put through the blender) especially for him, and fries. He loves fries. And then we realized, as we watched him demolish two cupcakes (instead of eating them), that we'd forgotten our camera.
We tried to get a good monkey picture to compare with the ones I'd previously posted, but he wouldn't stay still. I'm posting one where he'd rolled against the monkey, and gotten up on his hands and knees next to it. Should show just how big he's gotten, in contrast to the four day old picture.
The other big first comes with a funny little story. My husband and I have watched the baby watch the cat with delight (it's furry, and soft, and I want it!), and the cat watch the baby with horror and revulsion (it screams! and it moves! and it's bigger than me!) for the past year. The cat laying on the floor is what spurred Danny into rocking forward and learning to crawl. My husband and I joked that it would be the cat, asleep on the couch, that would get him to pull up.
Well, not quite. The cat was asleep on my lap, not on the couch. But it was Danny's desperate desire to get his hands on the cat that prompted him to walk his little hands up the front of my chair, and get up onto his knees.
And the cat promptly ran up my chest, up the back of the chair, down the other side of the back of the chair, and through the baby gate and the kitchen, all the way back to the den. It's the only place she knows the imp can't get to her.
It's been a hectic year, and a hectic week, and I wouldn't trade most of it for anything.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
In case you're all curious...
My son, Daniel Marcus Chism, was born eight weeks early, right in the middle of last fall semester. I had to switch the class from being a traditional classroom class, with Blackboard enhancement (i.e., all handouts on Blackboard, with the students responsible for printing the ones they needed for class--which were listed in the schedule, and I'd remind them the class period before they needed them), to being solely online starting October 6. He was 17 inches long, and 3 pounds 13.3 ounces at birth.
He spent his first five weeks in Freeman Hospital's NICU, or Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit. I can't say enough good things about the staff there. When we brought him home, he was 5 pounds 7 ounces.
He's nearly a year old, now. He's gone from teeny-tiny to nearly as big as he should be for his calendar, rather than adjusted, age: 28 inches, and 18.5 pounds. He eats about 6-8 ounces of baby food every day, and one 4 ounce snack, besides nursing. He's crawling (and getting into everything), but not pulling up, yet. He doesn't seem confident in standing even when I'm holding on to him, but the doctors did tell me he'd probably be delayed on some things.
One thing he doesn't seem to be delayed on is talking: he's already calling me "mama" and my husband "daddy," rather than applying one name to both of us. He says "kitty" (pronounced "giddy"), and tries to call the cat, who looks at him like he's lost his mind.
He's a happy boy that very much likes girls. In fact, there are very few people he doesn't like. It seems like the only way to get on Danny's bad side is to baby-talk to him.
Here are some pictures, to show how he's grown. In the first one, he's four days old. The monkey he has with him for size comparison is about 10 inches long. In the second picture, he's three months old, with the same monkey for size comparison. In the third, six months; in the last, nine. I'll post his 12 month picture next month.
He spent his first five weeks in Freeman Hospital's NICU, or Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit. I can't say enough good things about the staff there. When we brought him home, he was 5 pounds 7 ounces.
He's nearly a year old, now. He's gone from teeny-tiny to nearly as big as he should be for his calendar, rather than adjusted, age: 28 inches, and 18.5 pounds. He eats about 6-8 ounces of baby food every day, and one 4 ounce snack, besides nursing. He's crawling (and getting into everything), but not pulling up, yet. He doesn't seem confident in standing even when I'm holding on to him, but the doctors did tell me he'd probably be delayed on some things.
One thing he doesn't seem to be delayed on is talking: he's already calling me "mama" and my husband "daddy," rather than applying one name to both of us. He says "kitty" (pronounced "giddy"), and tries to call the cat, who looks at him like he's lost his mind.
He's a happy boy that very much likes girls. In fact, there are very few people he doesn't like. It seems like the only way to get on Danny's bad side is to baby-talk to him.
Here are some pictures, to show how he's grown. In the first one, he's four days old. The monkey he has with him for size comparison is about 10 inches long. In the second picture, he's three months old, with the same monkey for size comparison. In the third, six months; in the last, nine. I'll post his 12 month picture next month.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
A teachable moment: Facebook isn't private.
An individual wrote to New York Times ethicist Randy Cohen, discussing a friend who teaches eighth grade, and whose class all "friended" her on Facebook, which led to her learning about questionable activities the kids engaged in (such as drinking, drug use, academic dishonesty. He or she asks Cohen what the teacher should do about what they learn. Cohen responds with suggestions that, rather than turning the kids in, she should use the knowledge of what they're doing to teach them that Facebook isn't like a diary left on the kitchen table, that anyone can see what they're doing, should they choose to look. He goes on to suggest several ways she can act as a teacher, not a "cop," as he feels her role should be.
Beyond the obvious oxymoron of being an ethicist for The New York Times (where was he when Jason Blair was making up sources and plagiarising?), I see several issues with his suggestion, both as an educator, and as a student.
First off, I heartily disagree with his statement that she shouldn't really do anything but mention that incriminating photos of students drunk or high might cost them opportunities later in life. Hello, this woman isn't a college instructor. She teaches eighth grade. That's kids that are 12, 13 years old. Maybe 14, at most. Cohen says
As a teacher, I think the eighth grade teacher definitely should make sure these kids understand that, by "friending" her, they've given her the key to their "private" diary. She should warn them once, in general terms, that they've got one chance to remove any photos or mentions of illegal or academically dishonest activities from their pages, and that, should she see it the next time she logs on, she's required--by law--to report the underage drinking and drugs (which she is).
As a teacher, I think she was absolutely in the wrong to accept "friend" requests from her eighth grade students. She needs to remember that, as a young and popular female teacher, she's going to be coming under more and more scrutiny in her interactions with her students, thanks to young, popular female teachers like Deb Lefave.
And, as a student who never cheated, and never plagiarized, I'd really resent her if she didn't take a strong stance against academic dishonesty by making sure those who cheated and plagiarized were punished, when convicted by their own words.
Via Joanne Jacobs' blog.
Beyond the obvious oxymoron of being an ethicist for The New York Times (where was he when Jason Blair was making up sources and plagiarising?), I see several issues with his suggestion, both as an educator, and as a student.
First off, I heartily disagree with his statement that she shouldn't really do anything but mention that incriminating photos of students drunk or high might cost them opportunities later in life. Hello, this woman isn't a college instructor. She teaches eighth grade. That's kids that are 12, 13 years old. Maybe 14, at most. Cohen says
"...the most significant peril you describe may not be a little teenage drinking or recreational drug use but the public exposure of this “mischief.” Your friend has a chance to teach these students about Internet privacy or the lack of it. She should carpe that diem. Were she simply to bust these online doofuses, she would squander a chance to convey something of lasting importance and leave them feeling that she had betrayed their trust.WhileI agree that they, and all Facebook users, need to think about how pictures they take and post now might affect their chances later, I'm horrified that he seems to brush off kids not far into puberty altering their body chemistry on a regular basis. That, right there, seems as if it could pose a serious threat to their health and development that he simply doesn't address. It's almost as if he thinks that kids cannot be expected to learn self-restraint about anything, so why punish them for putting themselves in danger?
To them, Facebook and the like occupy some weird twilight zone between public and private information, rather like a diary left on the kitchen table. That a photo of drunken antics might thwart a chance at a job or a scholarship is not something all kids seriously consider."
As a teacher, I think the eighth grade teacher definitely should make sure these kids understand that, by "friending" her, they've given her the key to their "private" diary. She should warn them once, in general terms, that they've got one chance to remove any photos or mentions of illegal or academically dishonest activities from their pages, and that, should she see it the next time she logs on, she's required--by law--to report the underage drinking and drugs (which she is).
As a teacher, I think she was absolutely in the wrong to accept "friend" requests from her eighth grade students. She needs to remember that, as a young and popular female teacher, she's going to be coming under more and more scrutiny in her interactions with her students, thanks to young, popular female teachers like Deb Lefave.
And, as a student who never cheated, and never plagiarized, I'd really resent her if she didn't take a strong stance against academic dishonesty by making sure those who cheated and plagiarized were punished, when convicted by their own words.
Via Joanne Jacobs' blog.
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