Theme(s) for the 2017-18 academic year

As an academic, I recognize two “new years” every year: the traditional one, the start of a new calendar year on January 1; and the academic one, in September when the new school year starts. Both new years present an opportunity for reflection, for renewal, and for a fresh start.

I don’t usually make resolutions. I’m the type of person that doesn’t wait when I want to start a new habit or change my ways, and I’m usually disciplined enough to see it through. But I do set themes.

A theme is an overarching principle that describes how I’d like to live my life and make my choices over the next year. I alternate between picking themes for the traditional new year and for the academic year. Past themes include Defining (2010), Good enough (2013), Self preservation (2015), and Healthy (2017).

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting this summer more generally on what I want my post-sabbatical life to look like. How do I contain the chaos so that I am more present at work and at home? How do I not let myself get overwhelmed with the sheer volume of work? How do I make better choices about how to spend my time? As I reflected, two themes emerged, and I realized that they are in fact linked.

So this year, I have a dual theme for the academic year: Meaning and Challenge.


Meaning, to me, encompasses 2 parts:

  1. Doing important and relevant work to improve the world/my campus/my communities. I have a limited amount of time and energy, and I want to spend both in ways that “count”. I want to make sure that the projects I choose, and the actions I take every day, fit my core priorities: broadening participation in computing and STEM; integrating civic engagement and “computing for good” into computer science classes; empowering girls to become leaders; working for justice and equity more broadly.
  2. Working with purpose and intention. Sabbatical, and its relative lack of distractions, allowed me to be present and mindful in my work, and this is one of the things I enjoyed most about my sabbatical. I want to make sure to carry this mindfulness over to my post-sabbatical work days. This will be more challenging given the increase in the demands on my time and the number of distractions I’ll face (no more hiding out at home ignoring the world for hours!). Working with purpose and intention also means setting, and honoring, my priorities, particularly when it comes to deciding when I should say “yes” to an opportunity, or how I decide what tasks to work on during the day.


Working with meaning and purpose means getting out of my comfort zone, and doing hard and uncomfortable (and possibly unpopular) things. It means being brave enough to stand up for what I believe in. As a newly minted full professor, I believe I have a responsibility to do so — to be brave enough to use my power and my voice to improve my communities. I don’t like being uncomfortable, so this will definitely be a challenge for me.

But I also want to pursue the fun parts of “challenge” this year by taking new risks and testing my limits in new ways. I’ve thought about doing a triathlon for a while, and I think I’m going to plan for one for next summer. Taekwondo continues to be a fun challenge for me (particularly now that we are sparring in class!), and I might try competing in a tournament this year.


I’m very excited to see how these themes play out this year, in my work life and my home life.

What are your themes for the year, readers? I would love to hear them in the comments.


A rough return to teaching

I’ve spent the past few summers (minus last summer when I was on sabbatical) teaching in a summer high school program. The program consists of 3 weeks of morning classes and afternoon guided research with a faculty member. I really, truly enjoy it. Teaching high school students is an interesting challenge. And by and large the students have been thoughtful, engaged, creative, and eager to learn. (It’s also very gratifying to see some of them as Carleton students post-high school!)

So when my colleague approached me last fall about teaching again this summer, I agreed. The program, I reasoned, would give me the opportunity to ease back into teaching before returning to the classroom in the fall. Plus I already had curriculum and research projects ready to go. What could possibly go wrong?

Suffice it to say that my envisioned triumphant return to teaching was anything but.

The actual mechanics of teaching? That went easier than I anticipated. The rust fell away quickly, much to my surprise. Being in front of students felt natural to me, and I found my teaching groove in short order. Pacing was still tricky at times, but pacing is always a bit of an inexact science.

What I didn’t anticipate, and what was roughest about re-entry: the small but active minority of students in my research group who decided early on that what I was teaching, human-computer interaction (HCI), was not Real Hard Core Actual Computer Science Because We’re Not Programming 24-7. And the undercurrent of disrespect for my authority, and for my RA’s authority (also a female computer scientist).

Now, I should pause and make it crystal clear at this point that THIS IS NOT NORMAL FOR THIS PROGRAM. The vast, vast majority of students are respectful and open to learning, and to expanding their ideas of what computer science is. I can count on one finger the number of research students I’ve mentored in this program who have been actively disrespectful of me and the subject matter. Sure, I’ve had some students in the past who were openly or less openly skeptical about the merits of HCI as a computer science field, but by and large those students at least came to appreciate what I was trying to teach them in the end, even if in the end they decided it wasn’t quite their cup of tea. And I’ve had some really interesting conversations with the objectors that have not only strengthened my framing of my material, but have also led me to reflect on what material I choose to include and how I include it. Both of which make me a better, more effective teacher in the end.

I spent a lot of time and energy during the program reflecting on where this particular strain of disrespect originated. Part of it likely relates to the HCI = Not Real Computer Science attitude, which is certainly not limited to the students in my class (and is still somewhat pervasive in the field, unfortunately). Part of it also likely relates to the general bro-ness and toxic masculinity that has always surrounded computer science, something that’s come into sharp focus lately with any number of recent news stories. Why did it emerge in force this year, and not in previous years? That, I’m still trying to figure out.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve had to deal with this level of disrespect in the classroom. I’ve been at Carleton long enough that I’m part of the fabric of the department — I am “accepted”. Gaining seniority (in age and in status) over the years increased my credibility with the students, giving me more authority in their eyes. The close-to-gender parity we have in our faculty also helps quell at least some of the disrespect. So I was caught off-guard.

Once I recognized what was going on, I went into damage control mode. I summoned up my Authoritative Teacher persona from the depths — she hasn’t been around much since my pre-tenure days. I blinded them with science — or, at least, hit them hard with the scientific basis for every psychological or design principle we discussed. I randomly threw out my credentials, just to remind them that Yes I Do Know What I Am Talking About As I Have A PhD In Engineering And Years Of Experience. I occasionally let out my Inner Bitch and used my Evil Mom Stare with abandon.

But I also second-guessed almost everything that I did, and said. I put up my guard in ways I haven’t had to do in a very long time. Teaching, and every single interaction in this program, took up at least twice as much of my mental and emotional energy. Teaching in this program is normally draining, but this year, at the end of the day, I truly had nothing left in my tank. And that was not fair to my family or to myself.

Lots of people have asked me if I’ll teach in the program again next year. I honestly don’t know. On the one hand, I still believe strongly in this program. I have met and worked with so many incredible teens and young adults in this program. By and large, my students are thoughtful, creative, eager to challenge themselves, whip-smart, and funny. Most of my students did outstanding work on their research projects, and embraced the experience and challenge from start to finish. And I enjoy serving as a role model to high school students, both as a female computer scientist and as an HCI researcher. But on the other hand, this summer exacted a huge toll from me. I was exhausted, and bitter, every single day. Why does it feel like it’s just my responsibility to hang in there, fight the good fight, and change their minds? How productive, and happy, would I be if I didn’t have to deal with this crap?

Hopefully, I won’t experience anything like this in the fall when I return to the classroom full time. Or, if I do, at least I’ll be prepared to recognize it and deal with it. That, I suppose, is the sad silver lining in this experience.