(Before anybody says anything, I asked her mother for permission to send her books when she was a minor and my wife is fully aware of this teacher-student relationship. The young woman even sent my wife a nice Christmas present this year, so get your mind out of the gutter.)
At any rate, I asked her if she saw the eclipse this past week. She told me, no, she was in class. I confess I was slightly disappointed. I probably would have skipped class, unless I had an exam then. If I was teaching I would have taken the class out to view the eclipse.
As a doctoral student in the 80s I went with some other students and some professors to the AHA conference in Chicago. I skipped a session to go see an exhibit of Monet's paintings because that was the only time I could get a ticket for the show. My then-adviser was really angry, but to this day I remember standing and admiring Monet’s study of haystacks in the different seasons, and I am sure the others have long forgotten the panels they attended. I get comments on RateMyProfessor and on evaluations about what a stickler I am for taking attendance but damn-it, sometimes there is something happening outside the classroom that is worth going out and enjoying, something you’ll remember, something that will change how you view the world even more than a discussion of the 1888 election. We do our students a disservice if we don’t occasionally remind them that there are learning experiences outside of the classroom and that, yes, sometimes it’s OK to go outside and watch an eclipse instead of going to class.
I once had a student who skipped a class to do Something Very Important. She then pitched a fit when her skipping was held against her grade-wise.
ReplyDeleteShe and her advocates failed to grasp that the real problem wasn't her skipping that one class that term. The problem was her skipping at least 8 others, along with some assessments.
Most of my students know to skip class to do Something Very Important; the trouble is getting them to accept that the class is Something Very Important too.
I distinctly remember watching an eclipse of the sun projected through pinholes punched in cardboard (and anything else that could serve the same function -- e.g. spaces between leaves, the ornaments on gothic buildings, odd gaps in sculptures) in a courtyard at my graduate institution. It was a bit eerie, and very cool. I don't think I skipped or canceled a class to do it, though; it was more or less lunchtime, and our schedules were pretty civilized. But I'd be much more willing to do so for an eclipse than for, say, a nice spring day, which, while lovely, occurs at least several times a year. An eclipse is a few-times-in-a-lifetime event, and the sort of real-life, real-time event that's even more worth experiencing as our lives become increasingly virtual.
ReplyDeleteI teach a variety of science classes, so I would probably have worked class around the eclipse.
ReplyDeleteI guess I was blessed with a good advisor. I could skip a session of a conference to go get loaded if I'd wanted to. But if I skipped for something legitemately cool, like a limited Monet exhibit, he'd probably have come along.
A partial solar eclipse isn't a valid excuse to miss class. One reason is that, for the one on January 4, there were over four hours between first and fourth contact, as shown here:
ReplyDeletehttp://eclipse.gsfc.nasa.gov/SEplot/SEplot2001/SE2011Jan04P.GIF
Another reason is that, in a partial solar eclipse, all that happens is that part of the Sun is covered by the Moon. Unless one knew it was going to happen, one could easily miss it. It does make some pretty shadows under trees, but I don’t like to encourage people to look at the bright surface (or photosphere) of the Sun, unless they know exactly what they’re doing.
A total solar eclipse is worth missing class. One reason is that totality always lasts less than 7.67 minutes. Another reason is that it's literally as different from a partial solar eclipse as night is from day. Observing a partial solar eclipse frankly isn’t worth the expense of international travel. Observing a total solar eclipse is, and people like me chase them literally to the ends of the Earth, with much the same enthusiasm as we did for Grateful Dead concerts, in our youth. I am looking forward to observing the one on November 14 (local time), 2012, in the resort town of Port Douglas, Australia, near the Great Barrier Reef: I happen to know the path of totality will pass directly over a five-star resort.
It isn't for nothing that a total solar eclipse is called nature's most awe-inspiring phenomenon. It’s no exaggeration to say that one looks and feels like the end of the world. The day sky becomes dark enough to see bright stars; the temperature noticeably drops; there are sunset colors ringing the horizon, and weird shadow bands; and the Sun looks pitch black, except for streamers of hot gas escaping the Sun, the solar corona. I can see why myths of a dragon eating the Sun are so common, world-wide, because that’s what it looks like. Total solar eclipses are much rarer than partial solar eclipses, because the path of totality, in which the Moon completely blots out the Sun’s bright surface, is only a few hundred kilometers across. If one were to happen near where I teach, I’d cancel class that day, and go observe it myself.
Astronomers can predict when this is going to happen, to the minute, a millennium in advance, anywhere on Earth. If I was a student and knew that totality of an upcoming eclipse would occur during an upcoming class, I’d skip the class.
I’d also do what any good student should do when there is a compelling reason to miss class, such as a job interview. I’d confer with the professor a week in advance, preferably during office hours, and explain that I had a compelling reason to miss class on that day. I’d complete any homework or other assignments due during that class, and turn it in, in advance. I’d get notes for that class from another student. I’d do the reading assignment anyway, paying special attention since I’d know I’d be missing the discussion during class. I wouldn’t demand that the professor let me copy her or his notes, nor give me a private lesson for the class I missed. I certainly wouldn't make a regular habit of missing class: total solar eclipses can't happen more often than about once every six months. I really don’t see what’s so difficult about all this.
P.S. Monet's haystacks at the Art Institute of Chicago are well worth skipping a boring section of an academic conference, particularly if it's one's only opportunity to see them since one lives far from the Windy City. If my students did that, I wouldn't mind. What I did mind was when two students of mine were too hung over to be able to leave the hotel on time, so they made me late for a historical section at the conference given by a beloved old prof who has since died. I ought to have just left them behind, but I didn't yet have tenure, so I was too easy-going. No more.
ReplyDeleteMiddle-Aged and Morose: What, oh what, is this "outside" of which you speak?
ReplyDeleteFFF: thanks for the details. I'd still skip class to see it though. And yes, skipping a conference or class because you are hung over is not the same thing. I took tests stoned on cold medicine and with a high fever when I had to. Did pretty well too, which is sort of scary.
ReplyDeleteI promise, as stated clearly above, you don't NEED to skip class to see a partial solar eclipse, they last more than four hours! A total solar eclipse is the one that merits skipping class.
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