Most of the time, the inside of my head feels twenty five years old. In the same way that human height seems to reach an apex at about that time, I believe our minds develop a sort of default value for our imagined age. From behind my eyes, I don’t imagine myself as much different from twenty-five. Unless, that is, I’m faced with clear evidence to the contrary.
Today is one of those days. Today I start a blog. I recently heard that the English language now has about five times the number of words it did in Shakespeare’s time, and ‘blog’ is one of them. I’m not nearly as old as Shakespeare, but ‘blog’ wasn’t around when I was growing up, either. Blog sounds to me like some dangerously dank geographical hurdle or the sound made by accidentally stepping on a bagpipe. But in either case, here I am, blogging.
So why am I blogging? Partly out of frustration. Frustration, I’ve found, is one of the major ways in which my mind is presented with clear evidence that I’m not twenty-five. But in this case, my frustration stems from trying to find a way to start a real conversation among JCST’s readers about our students, our jobs, and our lives. I know that there is much we share as college-level science instructors, and I know in my marrow that we can benefit from the experiences and the wisdom of one another. I also know that what we are doing now to make those connections isn’t working.
So here I am, blogging my heart out, still not entirely sure of what blogging should be.  Hoping that one of you—or many of you? Please? Will fill me in on where I’m going wrong (and where I’m going right) in the process. I can’t seem to find a handy rubric anywhere. I know that I’m supposed to pontificate about a topic, and that you’re supposed to reply. Unless you do your part, though, we will miss all the benefits of inquiry-based blogging. Not good.
I’ll post again soon. Like most traditionally-trained professors, the opportunity to pontificate is too great a lure. Please don’t let me do it alone.