ryan - b l o g

Consider the following statement;

"Grades are an accurate reflection of student knowledge."

One hopes that this is true - I mean, it is true, right? Absolutely not. These days, grades are at best a rough approximation of a student's comprehension of a course's material, and even that is generous.
What makes up a grade? Many things make up grades, and a large number of components measure a student's ability to turn in work, not their ability to comprehend knowledge. In a class where tests are 40% of a student's grade, a student who gets a 100% on every test but neglects to turn in homework or classwork still receives an F. Now, did that student fail to comprehend the material of that course? No, they simply didn't turn in the "busy work" as required by their teachers, and I'm sure part of the reason that they don't turn it in is because it is a waste of their time to repeat a concept over and over and over again if they already comprehend it.
Yes, some students need to do a problem over and over and over again before they understand it. But, should other students be penalized in their grade because Billy needs to do an extra worksheet to understand how to add?
I mean, why do we go to school anyway? We go to school to learn, not to work. School is not work. I will repeat that again; school is not work. School is learning, and, as such, grades should only reflect learning.
If anything, the current system of grades distract from student learning. Rather than focusing on comprehending the material of a course, students get caught up in what they need to do to get their grade up to an A. They rush to copy the answers out of the book for their worksheet without understanding the very words that they are writing down.
The current system often causes students to believe that they are sufficiently prepared when they really aren't. There are plenty of students who go through the motions of doing their work but consistently get 50% on tests. Going back to our example of tests being 40% of a grade, a student can fail every single test and still walk out of the class with a B. Who is this good for? It's good for parents who want to boast about their childs supposed "gifts", but not much else. It doesn't provide incentive for teachers to teach for for students to learn. It provides incentive for teachers to give out worksheets to fill up the class time and it provides an incentive for students to just do enough to get it turned in. Half of the time, classwork and homework are only graded for completion! Yes, you heard me, graded for completion! Where's the reflection of knowledge in that?
I propose that we have a grading system solely based on tests. Such a grading system would reflect how well students comprehend what they were taught. Teachers should write the tests for each individual class so that the classic situation of, "You didn't teach us that!" can be avoided. This will get rid of "copy syndrome" and cause students to actually pay attention. No longer will they be able to fly under the radar by copying someone else's homework and handing in the busy work. They will actually have to learn. Students will actually be responsible for knowing the content of a course because their grade will finally accurately reflect a their comprehension of a class. What a comcept!

So, I've begun to watch Big Brother again. Part of me thinks that I should feel guilty for watching a show like this, but I really don't. I think part of the reason that I like it so much stems from the fact that I like observing people in general. I am a people watcher, I will do things just to see how other people react. For instance, when I was at a super Wal*Mart in Alabama, I bought an eyepatch and put it on while I walked around with Gerrit and Wastler as they bought the rest of their things. I don't need to wear an eyepatch for any sort of reason, I just did it because I wanted to see how people would react to me, and hey, it's one step closer to being a pirate. Anyway, people's reactions were varied. Some stared, some avoided looking at all, and others took what I like to call "micro-glances". Those were the most interesting. They wanted to look at me, they wanted to know why I was wearing an eyepatch, but most of all, they didn't want me to know that they were looking at me. There's that little bit of curiosity in all of us I think, but so is the desire to not seem "nosy"; though that desire is quite small in some.
Part of what makes Big Brother so great is that you get to get to watch people as much as you want without having to worry about seeming "nosy" at all. Perhaps the best part of Big Brother are the live feeds; you get to watch people unedited and uncensored as they scheme and plot, socialize, or just plain argue. That's the best part. I'm not quite sure why, but a good argument is always riveting. Some people may pretend to be above it all, but deep down, they aren't. Who doesn't like to watch some drama?

I was doing some thinking today and I came to the realization that we are all in a mist, whether we'd like to admit it or not. One can only see so far ahead in life at any given time, and even then our future is uncertain. What is closer seems clearer, but we can only see so far. You don't know what's going to happen in ten years, five years, or even tomorrow. You don't even know what's going to happen in five seconds. "But Ryan," you may say, "I'll still be reading your wonderful blog post in five seconds." Yes, you probably will, in fact you still are, but you don't know what was going to happen. Someone could have come into your room, you could have suddenly had to go to the bathroom, or an alien could have abducted you. How far we can see into the future is much like how far we can see into a mist.
If you only look ahead of you and ignore where you are today, this hour, this second, you will trip and fall. This doesn't mean that you shouldn't plan for the future, but you certainly shouldn't forget to look at the present. Don't reach for that which you can not see.

We read this poem on the first real day of British Literature. I really, really, enjoyed it so I thought I'd post it here. Loreena McKennit has an awesome recording of it which my teacher played for us as well. Reading/listening to this has given me a new appreciation for poetry. I think that I have much more respect for a finely tuned, deep, and intricate work of art such as this than I do for some of the "artsy" random crap that we see in poetry a lot. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate other forms of poetry as well, but I think some of it is just plain bullshit.
I also think that I'm definitely an auditory learner; I think that I gained a greater understanding of this from listening to it while I read than I would have had I only read it. I've put a video with the recording as well as the text of the poem below.

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
PART ONE

I

THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

II

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

III

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

IV

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

V

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

VI

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

PART TWO

I

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.

II

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

III

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

IV

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

V

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .

VI

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!

VII

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

VIII

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

IX

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

* * * * * *

X

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

XI

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

So, last week I had heard that Obama would be stopping in Baltimore before the Inauguration on Saturday. I decided that I was going to try to see him again and so I decided to go down there on the train with John since he had to work. I almost missed going down with John but it all worked out in the end. I knew that it was going to be cold and so I prepared myself pretty well for it. I had four pairs of pants, four pairs of socks, an undershirt, t-shirt, thermal, sweater, track jacket, coat, and hat on. I didn't want to have to leave because I was too cold. I arrived downtown and got in line at about 8am; I wanted to be sure that I was going to get a good spot. This crazy lady next to me in line said that I was going to need ID to get in, something that worried me since I didn't bring mine with me. She said that she would save my spot in line for me while I went to go get it, so I decided to go ask around to see if I actually needed it. After talking to several police officers and a secret service agent, it turned out that I wasn't going to need it after all. Non-existent crisis averted! I went to go get back in line, and at this point my hands and feet were extremely cold. I had some money on me and so I decided that I was going to buy myself some hand and toe warmers from the Ride Aid across the street. I ended up buying six packs total for myself. I put a set of toe warmers and a set and a half of hand warmers in each foot, and then I had another set of hand warmers for my hand. It was a very good idea to get those, as I don't know if I would have made it if I didn't.
While I was in line, I ended up talking to those around me which was pretty fun. The girl in front of me said her name was Erin, which I thought was kind of interesting since Andrew's sister's name is also Erin. Not too long after that, Andrew sent me a text message that said his sister was also down there and that she had said she was also going to get good seats. It turned out that she was standing in front of me in line! What a coincidence, running into your boyfriend's sister in a crowd of tens of thousands. She was very friendly and I'm glad that I ran into her. She left to go get something and before she got back a man walked down the middle of the street motioning everyone to follow him. At this point, the line collapsed and the new line was a mob that stretched back to the end of the street and filled up the entire width of the street. I worked my way up to the front as best I could over time and ended up really close to the front. There were quite a few interesting characters around me; one young man criticized people for getting upset about all of the pushing and then said that he would knock any male who pushed into him to the ground. I was interviewed by Rob Roblin for the local news which was quite a treat, although I feel as though I made a fool of myself. At 1PM the lines were cut and we were allowed to move forward to security.
It was surreal. It went by so fast. I was so close to the President of the United States and it was amazing. It is a moment that I will remember for the rest of my life. There were some highlights that made it unique. At one point a woman shouted "Happy Birthday Michelle!" too which she replied with a silent "Thank You". I waved at Joe Biden and he smiled back right at me which was nice. Before I knew it, the speech was over and Obama was going to leave. However, he'd still be here for a few minutes - shaking hands. I pushed my hand up as soon as I possibly could and there was a moment when I realized I was going to shake Barack Obama's hand. I can't tell you how I felt, tears started to come to my eyes. Michelle Obama came along first, I remember the purple on her hands. She seemed touched that I was crying which I thought seemed really genuine. She shook my hand, but quickly moved on. The moment ended as soon as it began. He passed in front of me. I grabbed his hand. We shook. He smiled. He was gone. It was amazing, I couldn't believe it. Shortly after I shook his hand, I shook Jill Biden's and then Joe Biden's. Joe said that he liked my hat which I thought was quite nice. They moved on and it was soon time for them to leave for D.C.

So, here's the story. My friend Claire posted a link to this article on facebook. Her friend made the following comment.

Ooh, making fun of Bush. How original.

I couldn't not say something, right?

So we just shouldn't criticize him because everyone already knows what a miserable failure he is?

Apparently that pressed the wrong button! This was her reply;

Hey high school, how old were you in 2001? 2004? Way to follow suit when the big kids bash someone who was obviously capable enough to stop any post-911 terrorist attacks on American soil and simultaneously bring down Saddam Hussein. Kudos to them, though, blaming the president for their obviously pathetic lives in an economy that was created to fail "by the people, for the people." Oh, what's that? You think that our (alleged) recession has nothing to do with Clinton's presidency? Yeah, believe it or not, in the real world it sometimes takes more than a few months to see the consequences of decisions made in Washington. Maybe that's too hard for you to understand because Clinton was president way back in the '90s.

...you know, I worry about the future of America when some pissed off teenage suburbanite uses the term "miserable failure" to describe a man who was smart, experienced, and skilled enough to attain to the highest seat of power in the world. Good on ya, kid.

I was pissed, to say the least. High school? Really? Naturally, I defended myself.

First off, my name is Ryan. You do little to substantiate your argument by making an ad hominem fallacy right off the bat. I am not some random, dopey, uninformed high schooler. It is unwise, and quite frankly rude to assume that I am when you don't even know me. I am not a mindless drone who simply follows what the "big kids say", and I should remind you that you are only four years my senior.

Yes, there haven't been any terrorist attacks since 9-11. That's absolutely wonderful, and I am thankful for whatever role Bush played in keeping that from happening. However, the actual groundwork and preventative work is done by agencies such as the CIA, not the president himself. To give him a lot of credit for that is simply foolish. If anything, he has harmed our image abroad and given the jihadists more fuel to hate us, though I'm sure that makes little difference considering how much they hated us to begin with.

I said nothing about the economy and didn't blame it on him. I think you are taking your anger at anyone and everyone who opposes Bush out on me, which is unfortunate. The fact is, Presidents have much less of an impact on the economy than people think they do, and I recognize that fact. The current crisis is largely the fault of banks with deceptive and unfair lending practices and unwise people who entered into financial situations which they could not support. I realize that Clinton era deregulation has had an impact on the current crisis. I didn't defend Clinton in what I said either. It's nice to see that you finished your first paragraph the way you started it; with an ad hominem. At least you are consistent.

I worry about the future of America too sometimes, albeit for different reasons. I worry about our looming energy crisis, jihadism, and a failing education system. Ah yes, failure. The root of my comment! He is smart enough, though there are certainly many people who are much, much smarter. He was a C student, I'm sure you must hold yourself to a higher standard. I'm sure the cocaine use didn't help things either. Your next quality, experienced. Well, he was a governor, that's true, I'll give you that. However, that doesn't automatically mean that everything he does is good either. As for being skilled, I would say that he was lucky in getting his seat. He lost the popular vote by more than half a million votes, and he won the election in a single state by a few hundred votes. That was a state where the voting system was extremely poor, and the electoral practices were extremely questionable. His brother, Jeb Bush, had 58,000 voters taken off of the voter rolls, 54% of whom were Black. Journalist Greg Palast subsequently investigated the matter and said that only a small fraction of those actually weren't allowed to vote. Additionally, if the recount had proceeded as the "skilled" Bush asked, Gore would have won the election. The fact is, Bush was a likable enough guy, and people voted for him.

As for 2004, Kerry was an absolute joke, and Americans reasonably didn't want to switch presidents in the middle of a war. I could go into the war but this status comment has been long enough. I could also go on about the Ohio election 04, but again, I doubt it would make much difference in your mind. Much like I may have come off as a blind Bush opposer to you, you have so far come off as a blind Bush supporter. However, I do not assume that you are a blind supporter of him because I don't know you. You should have the same courtesy.

As for the term failure 61% of historians rate Bush as the worst president EVER, while 98.2 percent rate his presidency as a failure.

Think about that, 98% of historians rank him as a failure. I don't think such a statistic can be blamed on party lines or following the "big kids". Historians know what they're talking about.

I'm looking forward to her reply.

I've been pretty set on Biden since Monday, and I have a very strong feeling I'll be right =D.