PTSD

Learn the proper languages before you go to bed*

Language for tomorrow: How to talk (of) Mill when I don't quite know what to make of him myself? Yes, doing research is like learning a new language (another of my trite metaphors which I've repeated in class) but so is teaching the bloody skills to a group ranging from second to fourth years. I have started feeling as though I'm in one of those Nepali village schools where they just let a teacher loose on students of varying ages and experiences. Not much different in my class at TUWSNBN this semester I find. So, not only am I teaching research skills but I'm having to bloody well tailor it to people of different experiences.

After this, I should be able to teach anyone anything, really. I am dreaming of subjecting kids to a "Terrorism studies" course, one on "IRA and Al-Qaeda"** or even a "South-east Asian History" one***.


* This is just to point out I have spent the past 3 hours trying to make sense of Mill and his methods. Yes, I'm well aware people spend their lifetimes trying to do this same thing. I can only pity them. On a related note, I've not spent the entire time trying to figure Mill's methods out. Some of it has been spent listening to this John Stuart Mill, one of whose songs provided the title to this post.

** Assignments could include having to analyse Gerry Adams and OBL's speeches, comparing good old Maggie T with good ole George W and comparing exotic training locations (Colombia and Libya for the Irish, not too sure about AQ).

*** TUWSNBN is not big on South-east Asia so the likelihood of my ever being able to teach the latter course is about the same as that of Jamie Carragher scoring a goal.

posted by Priya @ 12:46 AM