Friday, August 28, 2015

Mareftia Map

Fractures in a Dream is set in a civilization called Essential. They call their world Mareftia, on which there are three continents: Teipin (where Essential is), Anamyarit, and Lokhejs. Teipin is usually separated into Sunrise Teipin, Central Teipin, and Sunset Teipin. Central Teipin is by far the smallest, consisting only of the band of mountains  in the middle of Teipin (created when the two parts of the continent collided with each other). Sunrise Teipin is often further divided into Polar Sunrise Teipin and Equatorial Sunrise Teipin.

Civilization originated near the big lake in equatorial Teipin, along a river leading from it to the ocean. Civilization spread quickly across Teipin and to Lokhejs, but Anamyarit was too far initially. The empire with the greatest impact, the Dinnu empire, had its capital right where "Teipin" is written in Essentiali. At its height, it covered all of Sunrise Teipin. It was only after the Dinnu's collapse that a huge migration happened (populating both Central Teipin and Anamyarit) and Anamyarit got its first written language. Scholars debate whether any of the cities that previously existed there could be considered civilization.

The Dinnu were also notable for being the first civilization to recognize the right of all species to civilize; previously civilizations usually repressed the attempts by other species. The Dinnu, instead, invented a language made of taps of varying lengths and helped these species to civilize. The main reason it managed to get so powerful was because it, though this method and the species' power, took many "subordinate civilizations", many of whom had their own subordinate civilizations.


I did not name the plates, just drew them to vaguely place a few islands. As you can see, sunrise is on the left, because most of their landmass is on what we would consider the southern hemisphere and therefore the pole on the top of their globe is the one we would call the south pole.

When I drew Anamyarit, I drew it to fit perfectly with Teipin, then moved them apart and flooded the edges (the islands on the sides are where the mountains once were). Essential is marked on Teipin by the sign. Those black dots are what happen when you draw mountains with pencil and scan it into the computer. I did not draw all the islands, all the lakes, or any rivers.

Having looked at this map again, though, I'm not sure if I'm going to keep it. It looks like it would fit somewhat well in a "what Americans think the world looks like". That's probably because I was lazy and mostly copied our plates. On the other hand, I've grown attached to this, and there are already a lot of similarities between their world and ours. This would not come at all as a surprise to the religious in Essential, because they don't believe different worlds split up until what we call the Cambrian explosion. Therefore, everything pre-Cambrian explosion, and quite a bit after that (the Senti are still mostly in control, so they mostly do the same things in each universe) should be the same.

I'll probably do whatever people tell me to :)


Saturday, August 22, 2015

Test Test Essay

I'm entering my junior year, and with that comes things like the SAT and its optional(?) essay. It's known that they choose obscure essay topics that most people haven't really thought about. Which makes sense; it would be unfair to give people topics that not everyone is equally familiar with.

But wait. There is one topic that everyone taking that SAT is equally familiar with, and probably very passionate about.

Yep, I'm talking about the test they just took.

Look, students like complaining about tests. They really like complaining about tests. When the PARCC happened, pretty much everyone spent more time and thought telling the PARCC why it sucked than on the PARCC's essays. This is what we do.

It's what I've spent at least three posts doing.

In addition, all the material they could possibly want is there, right in that packet that they just spent hours pouring over.

And, as a bonus, any particularly good comments can be forwarded to the test-makers for future improvement.

The questions could be broad or specific. "Write a persuasive essay about why the SAT should or should not be used as a metric for college admissions." "Evaluate how effective this test was at testing critical thinking skills."

It doesn't even have to be about the SAT specifically. Do you know what would probably test our creativity? Designing the education system we think would be ideal. Persuading the grader that standardized tests should be replaced with a metric we design, or that standardized tests are the best metric possible. Yes, it'd be pretty hard to design a metric in a couple of minutes, but for those who haven't done it already, there's always the latter argument. And writing essays in 25 minutes about things you, frankly, have no opinion regarding, is not easy either.

Or we could broaden it still more. I think it's fair to say the vast majority of people taking the SAT are students, home-schooled or not, who want to go to college. Write an essay about grades, whether they hurt or help. Write an essay about whether education should be provided by the state. Write a persuasive essay proposing anything that you think would make school better (nap-time). Write an essay about Pearson. Write an essay about why colleges should be free. Write an essay about colleges, period.

Good essays to be forwarded to the respective institutions.

There are things that apply to everyone taking the test. There is absolutely no need to go search for obscure topics when every person taking this test is sitting in a classroom with a number two pencil, hoping for a good score so they can get into the college of their dreams.

Or any college, possibly.

These aren't just topics we care about or topics that all testers know about. These are hot topics. Education matters, and as students, it affects our lives directly.

I still really like the idea of writing about the test, though.

Your ideas?

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Don't Judge This Cover By Its Book

After months of procrastination, I finally finished a cover for my book!





More accurately, I created a background (I know, beautiful).
<-------------
I wrote the words three times - first in pencil, then neater in pencil, and then in sharpie, and despite the vertical lines, I still ended up moving the words using Paint to create nice looking lines.

Then, because I was lazy,
Eyob took the initiative
and inverted the colors
to produce ---->



I added, rather ineptly (I really need to get something other than Paint), a title, but then Sophia did a much better one.


                      Which Gabe then edited to produce three different covers with different colors.




I'm still playing around, but comments on these existing covers are very much appreciated. I am most likely not going to change the background, however, because I don't want to do anything that isn't possible with a sharpie and piece of paper. Also, because I'm lazy. Even though these covers might not quite invoke the general tone of my book. Any suggestions are also appreciated.

(I have a cover that doesn't make my book look like a dictionary I'm so excited!)


Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Parts of a Book

For the most part, I have so far focused on editing. I say editing, but considering I deleted and re-wrote about an eighth of my book, that might not be the right word.

I'm finally, however, finishing up the major rewriting. At least, I think. I saved each "version" of my book, and there are at least three different versions labelled variations of "finished", so it's quite possible that at some point I will return and turn over my book again. I have, however, reached the point when I seriously consider the other parts of a book.

It turns out there are a lot of them, and a lot of words for them that I didn't know before (credits to Joel Friedlander).

Frontmatter

The pages at the beginning of a book before the body of the book. These pages are traditionally numbered with lowercase roman numerals
Half title—Also called the Bastard title, this page contains only the title of the book and is typically the first page you see when opening the cover. This page and its verso (the back, or left-hand reverse of the page) are often eliminated in an attempt to control the length of the finished book.
Frontispiece—An illustration on the verso facing the title page.
Title page—Announces the title, subtitle, author and publisher of the book. Other information that may be found on the title page can include the publisher’s location, the year of publication, or descriptive text about the book, and illustrations are also common on title pages.
Copyright page—Usually the verso of the title page, this page carries the copyright notice, edition information, publication information, printing history, cataloging data, legal notices, and the books ISBN or identification number. In addition, rows of numbers are sometimes printed at the bottom of the page to indicate the year and number of the printing. Credits for design, production, editing and illustration are also commonly listed on the copyright page.
Dedication—Not every book carries a dedication but, for those that do, it follows the copyright page.
Epigraph—An author may wish to include an epigraph—a quotation—near the front of the book. The epigraph may also appear facing the Table of Contents, or facing the first page of text. Epigraphs can also be used at the heads of each chapter.
Table of Contents—Also known as the Contents page, this page lists all the major divisions of the book including parts, if used, and chapters. Depending on the length of the book, a greater level of detail may be provided to help the reader navigate the book. History records that the Table of Contents was invented by Quintus Valerius Soranus before 82 bce.
List of Figures—In books with numerous figures (or illustrations) it can be helpful to include a list of all figures, their titles and the page numbers on which they occur.
List of Tables—Similar to the List of Figures above, a list of tables occurring in the book may be helpful for readers.
Foreword—Usually a short piece written by someone other than the author, the Foreword may provide a context for the main work. Remember that the Foreword is always signed, usually with the author’s name, place and date.
Preface—Written by the author, the Preface often tells how the book came into being, and is often signed with the name, place and date, although this is not always the case.
Acknowledgments—The author expresses their gratitude for help in the creation of the book.
Introduction—The author explains the purposes and the goals of the work, and may also place the work in a context, as well as spell out the organization and scope of the book.
Prologue—In a work of fiction, the Prologue sets the scene for the story and is told in the voice of a character from the book, not the author’s voice.
Second Half Title—If the frontmatter is particularly extensive, a second half title identical to the first, can be added before the beginning of the text. The page following is usually blank but may contain an illustration or an epigraph. When the book design calls for double-page chapter opening spreads, the second half title can be used to force the chapter opening to a left-hand page.

Body

This is the main portion or body of the book.
Part Opening page—Both fiction and nonfiction books are often divided into parts when there is a large conceptual, historical or structural logic that suggests these divisions, and the belief that reader will benefit from a meta-organization.
Chapter Opening page—Most fiction and almost all nonfiction books are divided into chapters for the sake of organizing the material to be covered. Chapter Opening pages and Part Opening pages may be a single right-hand page, or in some cases a spread consisting of a left- and right-hand page, (or a verso and a recto). Statistically, if a spread opening is used, half the chapters (or parts) will generate a blank right hand page, and the author or publisher will have to work with the book designer to decide how to resolve these right-hand page blanks.
Epilogue—An ending piece, either in the voice of the author or as a continuation of the main narrative, meant to bring closure of some kind to the work.
Afterword—May be written by the author or another, and might deal with the origin of the book or seek to situate the work in some wider context.
Conclusion—A brief summary of the salient arguments of the main work that attempts to give a sense of completeness to the work.

Backmatter

At the end of the book various citations, notes and ancillary material are gathered together into the backmatter.
Postscript—From the latin post scriptum, “after the writing” meaning anything added as an addition or afterthought to the main body of the work.
Appendix or Addendum—A supplement of some kind to the main work. An Appendix might include source documents cited in the text, material that arose too late to be included in the main body of the work, or any of a number of other insertions.
Chronology—In some works, particularly histories, a chronological list of events may be helpful for the reader. It may appear as an appendix, but can also appear in the frontmatter if the author considers it critical to the reader’s understanding of the work.
Notes—Endnotes come after any appendices, and before the bibliography or list of references. The notes are typically divided by chapter to make them easier to locate.
Glossary—An alphabetical list of terms and their definitions, usually restricted to some specific area.
Bibliography—A systematic list of books or other works such as articles in periodicals, usually used as a list of works that have been cited in the main body of the work, although not necessarily limited to those works.
List of Contributors—A work by many authors may demand a list of contributors, which should appear immediately before the index, although it is sometimes moved to the front matter. Contributor’s names should be listed alphabetically by last name, but appear in the form “First Name Last Name.” Information about each contributor may include brief biographical notes, academic affiliations, or previous publications.
Index—An alphabetical listing of people, places, events, concepts, and works cited along with page numbers indicating where they can be found within the main body of the work.
Errata—A notice from the publisher of an error in the book, usually caused in the production process.
Colophon—A brief notice at the end of a book usually describing the text typography, identifying the typeface by name along with a brief history. It may also credit the book’s designer and other persons or companies involved in its physical production.
Of course, these aren't all required, but I used to think that the copyright page was written by the publisher.

I was not terribly happy to learn it wasn't.

The article can be found in full at http://www.thebookdesigner.com/2009/09/parts-of-a-book/.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Place of Rest

Off a bustling highway down a lonely road, far away from the region's water sources, is a cracked parking lot, weeds beginning to squeeze past the concrete. There are only a few cars, parked between the slanted lines, but the lot is rarely empty, except at night. On one side are a couple of stalls, with rickety wooden doors and fans on top to wave the smell to the distance; next to them sit a clump of trash cans and recycling bins. The road ends here; the nearest residents are farmers with acres of ripe corn stalks. Past this, there is only a dirt path, trodden down by generations of feet large and small. The wind blows as the path's few travelers plod along, ruffling the leaves of the trees lining the sides.

When the path breaks out of the shadow of forest, it is to meet a brief clearing and then more trees, tall, sturdy ones and saplings newly planted. The grass here has been mowed, and people sit on it, under the shade of great spreading oaks and tall evergreens, watching squirrels camper above and listening to birds chirp in the warm air. Sunshine crosses through the leaves to play on the trunks and grass.

On the base of the trees, in the grass, are wooden signs.

The white ash of Cecil Rodney, beloved father and brother.

The American beech of Alicia Everett, who lit up every room.

Maybe it's her loved ones' imagination, but there always seems to be some dancing rays of sunshine above where her remains have given life to the beech.

It was her favorite tree.

Her young niece comes every week, riding the solar-powered shuttle provided for the commute. She comes bearing flowers and fertilizer, and as she sits under the sapling's shade and leans against the solid trunk, she feels like her aunt is there, watching her.

Perhaps she is.

One life gives birth to another. And a grieving father waters the grave of his son, dead too soon, and nobody tells him when they frantically replace the tree because it fell in a storm. If he knows, he doesn't think about it.

The gardeners who tend to the trees know everyone and their stories. They lay a mat for the niece who does her homework against her aunt's side, let the father tend to his son's tree, hang up sweets for the little boy who will grow up with his mother's elm. They know which tree was playful, which one liked to read, which one never complained, no matter how bad her pain. 

They know that the trees still are.

One life gives birth to another, as it returns to the earth. Life ends, and yet never ends.

As it should be, they say.

The grieving pay for the upkeep, but the trees are provided, unless someone requests a particular species, by the state. It's a natural right, a human right, to live forever. And one by one, the people have repopulated the earth with trees. The wealthy have turned the deserts into moist forests.

Life is an ever-expanding cycle.

And in dense clumps are sturdy, mature trees. They receive no human visitors, save for a few exceptions, but no one pities them, for they are plenty visited. They are the homes of many plants and animals, and insects as well, and they have moved far from grief.

Grief is finite. Life goes on forever.

And when the graveyard is deserted and the parking lot overrun by weeds, the trees will still be there, carrying life on their strong branches, with the sun playing between their leaves.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Grades

Recently I read this answer on Quora that said, among other things, that schools should teach us that if we aren't failing, we aren't learning enough. Instead of praising students for getting four As in a row, it suggested, teachers should ask students, "What can we do to challenge you more?"

Now, I don't entirely agree with that, because on things like unit tests, the idea is that we should have mastered the content. But I do agree with the general sentiment. If a student is succeeding (otherwise known, for better or worse, as getting 'A's) without much effort, that's a problem that should be fixed. I totally agree with that.

But something in me screams, "Noooo, don't take away my 'A's!"

Perhaps it's just my bias, but it seems like every day I am confronted with the stigma against grade obsession. Professors say they want people who like learning, not getting good grades, college admissions assure us they look at more than just the numbers, teachers tell us that ultimately, grades don't really matter. And I agree. Learning's important; grades are, at best, an imperfect measure of that.

But I'm not going to delete the app I have for the sole purpose of making it as easy as possible to check my grades every five minutes.

The way people speak of it, it sometimes seems like they think we care about grades solely because of an erroneous mindset that values recognition over achievement. And of course, I can only speak for myself, but getting good grades is seriously addicting. Deserved or not, there is nothing quite like the feeling of getting a high A on a project I put my sweat and tears into. There is nothing more guaranteed to keep me energetic and productive than a row of grades that are 95% or above.

Is this relationship unhealthy? My mood—and, unfortunately, performance—fall with my grades. When the last test of the quarter comes, my head is bent over the calculator, figuring out what I need to get to end with an A; lying in bed, I frantically dust off my mental arithmetic skills to achieve an approximation. I feel a pang when the grade for the most recent test hasn't been posted; a horrible shiver runs down my spine, immobilizing me temporarily, if the grade is bad.

If it is good, better than I expected, there is a sudden rush; for a few days, nothing (save a bad grade) can get me down.

So maybe it's bad that my spirits can be so strongly affected by a number I'm not fully in control of, especially when that number is always present. And yet I can't bring myself to stop caring, because  nothing has been able to replace that rush; no anticipation is as guaranteed to be rewarded (whether with horror, relief, or joy) as the wait while the teacher passes back an important assessment.

I don't care whether the number means anything. I want to learn in a way that is wholly separate from my desire for good grades. I do assignments because I couldn't not. If I regard good grades as anything more than instant, long-lasting gratification, it's as reward for effort put in.

And that's what I wish people understood.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

I Never Thought I'd Say This, But Don't Get Rid of Final Exams

At the end of last school year, several schools were subjected to a universally hated test called the "PARCC". Okay, maybe there was one person out of all of those affected who didn't consider the PARCC to be a stupid, time-consuming, counter-productive test. I'll believe it when that person is presented to me.

MCPS officials don't count.

To be fair, the PARCC did force our school to get better wifi, so it wasn't completely worthless. But still, I was understandably shocked when I learned that MCPS was responding to the complaints of over-testing.


The thing is, people don't hate final exams. Like, they suck, but it's just something we have to do. Even when we (and I'm using that term to mean 'people I know') could technically get a C, or a D, or whatever, on the exam and not be affected, we still try. Sort of. We don't try as much for the tests that really matter, but we don't answer the questions randomly. We don't write complaints about the test in the middle of (or in lieu of) the essays. (If someone went A-A and only wanted a B, the 50% rule would mean that they actually could answer the multiple choice randomly, though it would be worth putting in some effort on the free response to avoid a zero. Not to mention if they only wanted to pass the class.)

I think it's fair to say most people don't hate final exams as much as the PARCC.

And final exams, compared to the PARCC, aren't as terrible in...any way. They cause some stress, but we have a good idea of what's going to be on the test and the teacher's grading style. (It helps a lot that we aren't losing class time to take them.) They take some preparation, but nothing like the PARCC, because their format is about the same as the tests we've already taken and acclimated to. They're at the end of the year, when we've learned everything we're going to, rather than weeks before. And they even have some educational value, because sometimes, they're the only reason we revisit the stuff we learned in class.

That's not something I'm very happy about, as I've written previously, but I digress.

Is testing us twice on what should be the same material a waste of time? Certainly. Which one would we pick? Final exams.

The discussion, however, is centered on how to restructure the final exams. There are four options.

  • Option A: replace final exams for middle school courses with unit or marking-period assessments
  • Option B: eliminate final exams for high school students
  • Option C: schedule final exams over multiple class periods
  • Option D: replace final exams for high school level courses with marking-period assessments such as unit tests, projects, and portfolios
I don't, to be honest, care much about the middle school students, because in hindsight, middle school didn't matter much. The rest of the options, though... As lovely as the idea of not having to take final exams sounds when going B-A, it sounds absolutely terrible when going A-B, and honestly, with the PARCC's disruptive influence, that may be the more likely one. Besides, I am morally opposed to grading on a trend, because as we all learned in math, two points do not make a trend.

Students aren't the only ones who need to brush up on basic skills.

Seriously, though, MCPS's grading policies. I love that if I get the same grade in both quarters I basically don't have to worry about the final exam. I love it. It makes the final exams a relatively relaxing time. But it is absurd to have precision of grades to one significant figure and then report the GPA with three. 

Anyways. Option C sounds absolutely terrible. First of all, transition time for tests is inevitable, so it would take more time to take the test. Second of all, nobody wants to study three nights for one test (forty-five minute periods would stretch a two-hour test over three periods). Yes, it sucks when math's your first test, but at least after you're done, you're done. You're free to promptly forget everything you learned until the last week of August (which, let's be honest, everyone does). Now you can clear some room in your head for that nomenclature. Two hours is a long time to be sitting, but it's two hours and then freedom.

Okay, I admit I'm biased, because I'm the type of person who needs to get into things to do well and doesn't have a problem sitting still. The points are still valid.

Option D is the most palatable. I still don't really like it, because I like projects that are highly stressful but, in the end, practically guaranteed As. However, replacing final exams with projects and unit tests (at the teacher's discretion, I assume) seems reasonable. Some AP classes use projects in lieu of final exams already. It's sort of weird, in fact, to have a test in an English class where the bulk of the assignments have been take-home essays.

(Not that that stopped the state of Maryland from creating multiple choice English formatives.)

Of course, there are some classes in which the bulk of the grade is made up from unit tests (math), so that might make that a bit difficult. And everyone's just going to calculate what they need on that last assessment to get the desired final exam grade. But it could be reasonable, as long as teachers don't respond to unit assessments being used as the final exam by adding more unit assessments.

To be honest, I don't think removing final exams (unless it was executed really, really poorly) would have a huge effect on students. The larger problem is this accountability testing we do. You'd think that if America was worried about its standing in the international rankings it would, you know, try to emulate schools with better rankings.


I'm not saying that we don't need accountability. We do. National standards are good, though it's totally unreasonable for us to put the United States of America as a single entity in international rankings. I mean, the list is topped by "Shanghai", which, like, isn't a country. (I feel obliged to note that all entities associated with China in the top ten have had significant Western influence.) And this is America, where individual states make their rules about schools. I don't know who decided that America was being tested as a country, but I hope whoever it was didn't take a US Government class.

But I'm getting off-topic again. The point is that the top-performing countries listed generally have testing as students advance between schools, which are often entrance exams but sometimes diagnostic. These tests also often test a wider range of subjects than math, reading, and science.

Of course, there are also things these countries do that I personally wouldn't support, like putting students into tracks. Testing only once at the end of elementary, middle, and high school doesn't sound bad, though. For one thing, it would take up less time, for obvious reasons, and wouldn't intersect with any sort of final exam. For another, people might actually be moved to take them seriously. I can hardly speak for other people, everyone I knew considered the MSAs—our annual state assessment—a joke. Now, if there was only one test before each promotion, and we only were subjected to one pep rally for the test, we might be able to bring ourselves to get anxious about it, especially if the stakes were made clear.

We might even move ourselves to study for it as if it were, like, a real test with, like, real consequences for doing poorly.

MCPS is considering getting rid of final exams because of the PARCC, but the problem isn't final exams. The problem is the PARCC, and the plethora of nationally (or state...ly) standardized tests we take, which consume more time and are less relevant to the specific content learned in class. The problem is the fact that we've started to just throw tests at the problem. And maybe, before we do away with final exams and instate the PARCC, we should think a moment about whether this is necessarily the best way to ensure accountability. After all, if people aren't meeting the bar for math after fifth grade, is it really the end of the world? There's still time to correct that, and more importantly, nobody really learns anything in elementary school.

Also, let's take a moment to appreciate the fact that China, which literally invented standardized tests, tests its students less than America.