It’s weird to not know for sure.

Let’s back up.

On Monday, in preparation for an endoscopy, I have a Covid test. It didn’t hurt, exactly. Instead, my body was hyper-aware that something was in a place it should not be. Thus, my body tensed up and freaked out. My eyes watered cause my sinuses were irritated–and I felt weird for a few hours.

But the test came back negative.

So I was cleared for yesterday’s procedure.

I have severe GERD, exacerbated by a hernia. I have bile reflux too. These problems, combined with a family history of esophageal cancer, mean we need to check me every few years.

The severe GERD meant they had to fully sedate me–they wanted to intubate. That meant, unfortunately, that everyone else in line for the procedure got to go first. It was a fasting test, so I just lay there, getting hungrier and thirstier for a few hours.

When they finally took me back, my IV line got jerked around a lot. My arm is still in bad shape. Also, who IVs on the TOP of the hand? The dominant hand?

I woke up with a sore throat, naturally, and got dressed. When I looked down at the hospital bed, I saw a wet spot. There was no smell or color, but my panties were a bit wet too.

Thus, like all classy ladies, I threw them in my bag and tried not to Sharon Stone anyone when I was getting wheeled out to the car.

Today, I’m wiped out, and my throat is still killing me. And it hurts to type, so I’m going to stop and take the rest of the day fully off.

But so far my panties are dry.

And I’m in my new tank top.

In the last week, Fox News has been having problems being, well, news.

This Rolling Stone article details several problems, with Fox using images from one city in a story about another and outright altering images to make police look innocent and to make the Seattle protest look scary.

Some of their errors are unintentional, however.

Last Friday, a reporter quoted Reddit, saying the post showed divisions in the Seattle protest.

Except it was a joke.

From Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

In Karlissa’s new book on source use, we have a section about how satire news gets mistaken for real news sometimes.

But we didn’t think a “news” source would fall for such obvious satire.

We would, however, believe it if they called us all “bloody peasants” behind our back while they misrepresented our desire for an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We’re also fairly certain they would totally make Trump king for life on the word of some moistened bint.

[Update: I don’t want to have a whole new post every time Fox alters data, so I’m just going to add examples here.]

Fox News cut Donald Trump out of an infamous picture of Jeffrey Epstein (with their significant others).

Fox News got a defamation lawsuit against Tucker Carlson’s show thrown out after arguing that their audience knows Carlson spews bullshit. The judge agreed it’s bullshit. I contend that some of their audience believes the bullshit, especially since Fox News tells its viewers they’re the only reliable source.

This is the one week until December that I won’t be teaching. It’s the first such week of the year.

The first three weeks of my first session summer class are loaded onto Canvas. The handouts and activities have been adapted for optimal online learning.

The cat videos are loaded into the weekly wrap-up pages.

But I can’t just rest this week. There’s admin work to do, three medical appointments, including an endoscopy, trying to get my fence cat-proofed because one neighbor doesn’t like Thoth, . . .

Still, I am committed to only working half-days.

My problem, though, is how bad I am at relaxing. My workaholism has a big list of things for me to do. Even when I can convince it to let me read or watch tv, it has certain ideas.

“You should watch the foreign films in your DVR, since you usually can’t give yourself time to focus on what you’re watching.”

“You need to catch up on your New Yorkers. Do one a day while you can.”

“You should watch at least one stand-up special a day, even if you’re not in the mood, for research.”

I feel weird when I’m not working or crossing something off a list.

It’s pathological, and over the years I’ve gotten better at fighting it, but I still have to remind myself that I’m not doing anything wrong if I’m not being productive, that I don’t need to justify tv time by doing the most difficult physical therapy exercises while I watch.

This last quarter, I was by necessity glued to my computer–and I will be again next week.

I decided to take Sundays off from school work.

The boy says he thinks it’s doing me good, so I’m going to keep trying.

Karlissa’s newest book just came out. We got an email yesterday saying the publisher can confirm the first class adoption.

And Melissa gave a fantastic interview about it.

It seems like every week, a flurry of articles comes out about something The Simpsons has predicted.

I’ve written about this several times, most recently in this blog.

Right now, fake news is going around about The Simpsons predicting the murder of George Floyd.

They didn’t.

The images that are being used to argue it don’t come from the show–someone has altered them.

One picture was created intentionally as a form of social protest.

I am terribly irritated at “news” sources, though, that repeat the debunked rumors.

Take this article, for example, from something called Lastly.com.

It looks vaguely like a news source, enough to fool some people. I couldn’t find an “about us,” etc.

After repeating the rumor, the article showed the pictures used to further it.

At the end, the author clarified his/her ignorance: “it was not immediately clear as to which episode from The Simpsons aired the White House lights off. Or if at all, the pics belong from [sic] the cartoon series.”

The passive voice is deceptive.

It actually is clear–to anyone who either knows the show or who does the most basic research of asking someone who knows the show.

If “news” sites like this did any kind of fact checking, this rumor would not have spread so far. Snopes actually had to address it.

(In case you don’t trust me, trust Snopes. The rumor’s false.)

My mother said that Obama was going to take away our rights as white women.

My grandparents wanted a garden, to grow vegetables, to survive the race war Obama was going to start.

Except he didn’t.

He didn’t violate the Constitution. He didn’t take away their guns.

In fact, his attempts to work with the party that (in many cases literally) demonized him frustrated us.

We knew there was no way to work with people who called him a racist for empathizing with Trayvon Martin’s parents.

We are at a crisis point, one that’s long in coming. The same party that told us racism was over is also full of White Supremacists–racists that the party and its leader won’t disavow.

When armed whites forced the Michigan government to stop functioning with their threats of violence, the President applauded. He encouraged an armed rebellion against his own country.

That same President then tear-gassed peaceful protesters this week and has incited lethal violence against them.

I’m watching white people bend themselves into ridiculous positions to write off the BLM movement.

Luckily for them, they’re very limber from all of the practice:

They believe that you can never question the police and somehow that there isn’t a single violent racist one.

If an unarmed black (or brown or “red”) person dies, it’s okay because that person broke the law once when they were a teenager.

If that person dies, it’s because they didn’t follow instructions nicely or fast enough.

Even if the did, it’s still okay if they died, because any time an officer is scared for a second, he gets to kill someone.

We aren’t allowed to have self-defense in these cases. No one can raise their hands to shield themselves or to try to run away or to say they can’t breathe. Any attempt to not to be murdered by the cop will be seen as exactly why the cop gets to kill the person.

After the murder, no one gets to protest.

If they do, they hate America and all cops and veterans and Jesus.

If they do, the Vice President will use tax payer dollars to protest them protesting.

If they do, the President will say they should lose their jobs.

However they choose to protest will be the wrong way.

If there’s even one violent protester, white people get to dismiss the entire movement.

What a relief for them.

Stay in touch.

This is especially important if you won’t need the letter right away. Pop by office hours every couple of months. If we’re comfortable with it, friend us on social media. Send us that email when you see a meme that perfectly captures one of the lessons from the class.

Give us all the info we need.

Can we use the same letter for each program? Do we upload to interfolio, or do we have to send them separately?

Offer your resume, your letter, and whatever else we might need to write about you.

Make it easy.

Give us clear instructions about due dates.

If the place is old-fashioned and wants a paper letter, give us addressed envelopes with stamps.

Teachers procrastinate too. Do you really want your letter to be late because your professor hadn’t been to the post office for a while?

Check in.

I’m anal, and I’m a planner. When I agree to write a letter for a student, I put it on my calendar. In fact, I mark it on my calendar as something to be done a full week before it’s actually due.

Why?

Life.

I have migraines some days; I’m exhausted some days. Car accidents and happy accidents and all the rest often mean that not everything on a to-do list gets done.

Thus, I stay ahead on my homework, just like I did as an undergrad.

I am unique.

Some of your professors don’t keep a calendar, or they don’t update it. Or they count on their memory. Or they don’t plan ahead for potential problems. Or they procrastinate.

So check in with them, about a week before the letter is due.

Try: “Hi, as you know, the letter for Georgetown is due in a week. I’m just checking in to see if you need any additional information.”

Tell us what happens.

Please don’t disappear. Tell us what happened. Are you going to your dream school? Settling for the one closer to home? Trying again next year? We want to know.

If you will be trying again, ask us to update the letter. Sometimes we just have to change the date, but it will still help. A letter with an older date on it doesn’t mean as much to the admissions committee.

Say thanks.

An email is usually enough for this favor, but if someone went out of their way for you, a small token is nice.

Did someone write you a letter at the last minute because someone else flaked?

Maybe they need a nice bar of chocolate (unless they’re a caramel person, like me).

Did someone work with you tirelessly on your letter?

Maybe they need a Peets gift card.

Pay it forward.

You’ll be in a position to write letters for people some day. Evaluate them fairly and well.

Another way of paying it forward is to pass all of this advice along. We faculty don’t mean for any of it to be a secret. Sometimes we don’t think we have the time to tell you. Other times, we think we don’t need to tell you–because no one ever told us; we had to figure it out.

But we’ll all do better if things like this are transparent.

Go forth and find your mentors!

(Past entries discussed the basics, how to get mentors, mistakes to avoid, how our letters can address problems, and tips for asking.)

Ask after being an engaged student.

If you weren’t a good student, or if you were, but you didn’t get to know the instructor, you’re not going to get a good letter at the last minute. In other words, the first time you really have a conversation with us shouldn’t be the “may I have a letter of recommendation” conversation.

Think about balance in your letters.

If you work in a lab, don’t get both of your letters from your lab supervisors. Get one from someone who can talk about your work and another who can talk about you as a student, or some combination like that.

Ask carefully and politely.

Ask in person, if possible. If it’s not possible, apologize. I recommend a sentence with the words “comfortable” and “strong,” as in “Would you be comfortable writing me a strong letter?”

By saying “strong,” you’re asking for something beyond the form letter–and they’ll now know you know the difference.

If there is even a bit of hesitation, BACK OFF!

If they say they don’t have time, don’t argue or come up with time-management tips. If they say they don’t know you well enough, they aren’t asking to get to know you. If they say they can’t write you a strong letter, go ask someone else.

Definitely don’t show up at their house with your mom on a Saturday, demanding a letter, causing them to have to threaten to call the police since you won’t stop screaming about how they HAVE to write one.

(This happened to a colleague.)

Know when to ask.

We expect at least a month’s head-up for graduate school–those deadlines don’t sneak up on people. We’re more flexible with jobs and scholarships.

Get the words out.

I often have students in my office for a whole office hour, trying to build up the courage to ask me.

It’s so obvious.

But I pretend to be oblivious, as they ask about my cats and where I got that picture of Weird Al and how my Simpsons collection started.

When I say, “it’s been great, but I have to get to class,” they finally ask.

Why don’t I spare them asking? Because asking for help is important. I had to learn to do it–it was the hardest lesson. But every person you might ask for a letter had to ask for letters. It’s just part of the process.

Pro-tip: If you want to say something nice while you’re asking, ask first, then flatter.

When a student says, “Your class was my favorite. Can I have a letter?” I’m never sure whether the first sentence is true.

Take, for example, a card I got my from my son for mother’s day when he was about 7:

“You are lovely. Your hair is lovely. I’m sorry I set the carpet on fire.”

Those first two lines sort of get cancelled out because of the placement of the third.

It’s so much more convincing if you just flip the sentences: “May I have a letter of recommendation? I’m asking you because your class was my favorite.”

The next entry will be about what to do when we say yes.

Previous entries went over the basics, how to get mentors, things to avoid, and why our letters should address your problems.

FAQs

What if I don’t need the letter for a while?

Bring it up before you lose touch with them: “after taking a couple of years off to work, I’ll be applying to vet school. I might be back to ask you for a letter of recommendation then.”

What if the professor asks me to write the letter?

I know that some professors do this, but it’s insane. These letters are a genre. How are you supposed to know how the genre works? How are you supposed to know, from one school’s pov to another, what to say?

Some professors don’t use the letter they make you write. They say things like, “oh, I just wanted to know what you thought of yourself.”

Whether it’s laziness or mind games, I wouldn’t deal with those people.

What if the people who could write the best letter aren’t professors?

One of my students was recently told that all of his letters should come from tenure-track research professors.

But that wasn’t possible. Those professors only taught the big classes, and they didn’t allow undergraduates near enough to get to know them.

So one of his letters came from me, a lowly lecturer. We got him into one of the most prestigious schools in the country.

If you’re choosing between a form letter from a professor or a great letter from someone who’s not, don’t you want the great one?

So far, we’ve gone over the basics, how to get mentors, and the mistakes to avoid.

Today, let’s talk about the Letter of Rec superpower: addressing problems.

Few of us are perfect candidates–there was one class we bombed, one bad habit we haven’t conquered.

If a problem is so big that it will be visible to the job or the school you want, you have to address it.

How are you going to explain that terrible second year?

Or why you had to drop out and come back?

Or why you changed majors six times?

It’s actually best if we address it.

There was a term in college when I had pneumonia during the last weeks. If I’d had insurance, I would have been in the hospital. I don’t remember my mother having my brother say a final goodbye to me over the phone, but it apparently happened.

I do remember throwing up during one final and hallucinating in another.

I didn’t get straight “A”s that term, and I was worried about it.

John Degen was one of my letter writers–I’d taken three of his classes. He was the only teacher in the theatre department I had to study for–and I loved him for it.

He had me read the letter he wrote; he said he wanted me to proofread it.

That was bullshit–I realize now that he was finding an excuse to show me the letter so I would calm down.

In the letter, he talked about my illness. He mentioned how, despite my vomiting in the final, I did better than 92% of the class. I hadn’t know that.

I also didn’t know that my name had come up in a faculty meeting. The professors discussed who among them would go to my hometown for my funeral.

Because I was so clearly going to die.

“John,” I said. “Why did you all make me take my finals?”

“We thought you wanted to finish before you died.”

I was out of my mind with illness; they should have told me to go home.

Nevertheless, I knew I wasn’t going to have to mention my illness in my letters for grad school at all.

And that was a good thing. It would have sounded like an excuse if I mentioned it.

John made me sound heroic.

And that’s why you want mentors to write great letters for you. If we don’t know you, we can’t do this part of the letter.

Let me give two more examples, from letters I wrote.

I had a student who wanted to get a Masters in Public Health. She didn’t have the requisite GPA. But I knew her very well, and I went to bat for her. My only mention of what sank her GPA was in this paragraph (I’ve changed her name):

In our time together, I have gotten to know Jane very well. I know about the hardships she’s faced, including physical and mental abuse at home. I know how strong she’s been to overcome those hardships. Jane’s transcript will likely not be the strongest you’ll receive; however, I recommend Jane over anyone else I can think of for this program—she is dedicated to improving the health of those in at-risk populations. She understands the challenges they face in receiving care, in bridging the cultural and languages gaps between patients and doctors, and in making sustainable, long-term changes in lifestyle. Jane may have fumbled a bit in her undergraduate career, but I have every confidence that she will excel in this Master’s Program.

The program filed an appeal, asking for the university to waive the GPA requirement for her. And she has that Masters degree now.

Another student wanted to go med school. We had known each other for four years; he’d taken three classes from me. He was special. My favorite thing about him? When I would mark a mistake on his paper, he would not make the exact same mistake on the next paper. He would learn.

I was pleased when he asked me for a letter. I was less pleased when he came back a week later to tell me never mind, that he wasn’t going to med school, that he wasn’t good enough.

If I hadn’t really known him, I would have taken him at his word. I wouldn’t have known how wrong he was. And it would have been one more thing to cross off my long to-do list.

But he was wrong. So I yelled at him. And I ordered him to apply.

Later, he told me he was only in med school because I yelled at him.

If you don’t have mentors, who is going to give you a kick in the ass when you need it most?

I wrote him a great letter. In fact, I was worried the committee would see it as hyperbolic. And I was worried that he wouldn’t really explain in his own letter how amazing he was.

So I ended mine this way (name changed):

If this letter seems unduly glowing, it is because I hope to make up for John’s humility, which might prevent him from “selling” himself in his application. It is vital that this humility be respected, as it is another quality that makes both for an uncommonly good doctor and an uncommonly good person.

I give him my highest possible recommendation. 

He’s a doctor now. And sometimes he sends me facebook messages to check in with me and to ask if my doctors are treating me well.

I think he’s waiting for a moment when I’m letting a doctor not do his or her best, so he can give me a much needed kick in the ass to demand better.