Jessica Wildfire's Blog, page 431

Your comment expresses a lot of anger and resentment toward higher education that’s grounded in…

Your comment expresses a lot of anger and resentment toward higher education that’s grounded in stereotypes and misinformation. I teach at a university. We don’t have safe spaces or trigger warnings. We offer graduate degrees in practical skills. We have almost nothing in common with elite institutions that fuel the kind of outrage expressed by you and others. And yet we’ll suffer just as much under this new tax bill.

The biggest myth is that faculty and administrators at a university have any say in tuition prices. We don’t. The Board of Trustees does. Over the past decade, CEOs and “business leaders” have found their way onto these boards and jacked up tuition in order to make universities more “profitable.” Meanwhile, state legislatures have gutted funding for higher education, almost ensuring that tuition remains high.

In a perfect world, we wouldn’t need tuition waivers. Democrats and Republicans need to sit down and have serious conversations about how to fix higher education. But this tax bill doesn’t even begin to solve the problem. It does nothing but punish graduate students here and now. It’s a lazy solution that plays well with people who don’t like “liberal” universities.

And you’re so much better, right?

And you’re so much better, right? Thanks for your one-sentence comment on my response that offers no explanation or reasoning as to why you think this new tax bill will benefit Americans.

If I were still a graduate student, I would have to take out extra student loans just to pay my…

If I were still a graduate student, I would have to take out extra student loans just to pay my taxes under this new code. Sadly, I don’t think anyone who voted for the new tax bill has the patience or level of education to finish reading this post. On top of that, they absolutely *do* think colleges are a problem. I’m a professor. We’re not strongholds of liberalism. We’re strongholds of critical thinking and open-mindedness. GOP politicians would gasp at the level of respect we show students of all different views and backgrounds.

My year of virtual sex

You’d think a perfectly attractive woman would have no reason to try virtual sex. You’re wrong. I’m not talking about Skype-fucks or sexting. I’m talking about the world of Second Life, a digital world where you can be anyone or anything you want.

Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

Not many people remember Second Life. It’s still here. The avatars have gotten way better. Sure, your base avi still looks like something from the late 90s. But if you buy the right shape and hair, you can look pretty hot. Some vendors even sell photo-realistic skins.

By the end of my 20s, I was burned out on relationships. I’d gone on hundreds of dates, endured countless breakups, and had my fill of one-night stands. But the body still desires. The body never stops wanting.

Second Life gave me a way of going on extra-low investment “dates.” Bars, night clubs, dance parties, raves. You could do all of that in a virtual safe space. Cheap, anonymous, reliable as your wifi connection.

For a broke PhD student, a virtual escape meant everything to me. I’d practically maxed out my credit card on scholarly books, journal subscriptions, academic conferences, dinners, dates, parties, and nights out. My bank account couldn’t take any more.

Neither could my soul. Before turning virtual, I’d broken up with someone after a disastrous one-year engagement. Excuse? He was seriously hot. Kissing him was a lot of fun. At first, it seemed fine that he lived with his parents and only worked part-time. But 11 months later, nothing had changed except the excuses.

I’m hard-pressed to pinpoint a catalyst for the breakup. For starters, he flirted with other girls to make me jealous. He made fun of my writing. He bragged about his intellectual superiority. He constantly compared me to his mom. In short, so many reasons.

It just goes to show how much you can get away with if you have a six pack. Thank god I found some dignity lying around somewhere.

Okay, let’s be honest. I met someone else, who also had a six-pack and was way nicer and more successful. But that’s when it hit me.

Some people with flat tummies are just immature assholes.

A flat tummy doesn’t mean you’re an acceptable life partner. Even if someone looks fantastic in jeans, they might be bad for you.

Such a revelation.

Besides, dating him was expensive. We did long distance for a while. So I would drive down (gas money) and then have to pay for a hotel (ugh). Because making out at his parents house was just weird. His dad was unemployed, so he was always there. And he would always try to tell us stories about his sexual conquests from the days of yore.

Compared to that, Second Life all but sparkled. There, you can pretend to live the life you always wanted. You can buy a stunning cocktail dress and a mansion and a stable full of unicorns for a fraction of a fraction of the real world cost. You can hook up with an Elvin prince who owns a condo and a dozen time-traveling sports cars, a hot tub time machine, a fairy dust sauna, a home theater, and a bed the size of a pool.

The best part? If a guy starts to irritate you on Second Life, you can just teleport to a different night club with a click of your mouse. You’ll never have to see him again. No more awkward rides home in his car. No more excuses for why he can’t come inside. No fear of sexual assault.

So Second Life offered the perfect solution to a burned out pseudo-millennial with severe, douche-induced commitment issues.

Let’s imagine I meet a guy who’s great at conversation and an excellent dancer. But after 20 minutes, he starts talking too much about his ex-girlfriend. In the real-world, my night is just fucking ruined. But in Second Life, I could just type “Bye!” and then poooof.

The night is young! Who’s next?

It was like Tinder, if you never had to leave your house.

Of course, one night a bunch of us did get attacked by a swarm of flying penises. To be honest, that was kind of exciting. It felt like a cross between a porno and a Hitchcock horror flick.

Hitchcock cock. Get it?

Anyway, virtual sex worlds also helped me explore latent dimensions of my sexuality. Second Life still enjoys a hopping adult world, full of magical sex realms. Everything from secluded fantasy islands to filthy sex dungeons. Wanna get fucked by a gargoyle with a whip?

Live your dreams, girl.

Every few nights, I’d try something new. Choking, spanking, fairy tales, flogging, subordination, dominatrix.

One guy convinced me to help him explore his urination fetish. We went to a party held in a mansion that was half art museum, half bathroom. Porcelain commodes everywhere, in different styles. Many resembled sculptures.

As guests, we could pee practically anywhere. Many of the rooms offered special sex animations. People watched me and my partner pee on each other between brief interludes of love-making.

You can also role-play. Vampires, werewolves, wizards. Whatever your fancy. Entire worlds exist that cater to your every desire. Many of the communities in these places take role-play very seriously. I was actually kicked out of one place for cracking a joke.

Courtship still happens on Second Life. Sorry, pervs. But real girls don’t just show up and fuck you. There still needs to be some form of connection. A little wooing. Just like in real life, guys with attractive and well-dressed avatars got the most girls.

Sounds silly, right? But think about it. Here I am, investing some real time and effort into developing an avatar that resembles the real me. That shit doesn’t come easy. It required some research and whole lotta shopping. My clothes came in actual bags that I had to unpack. Second Life shops even provide us with dressing rooms to try on clothes.

Hey, I even had a girl squad on Second Life. We’d trade stories and jokes about people we met online. At dance clubs, we had a whole private back channel to gossip about what was going on.

Every night, a handful of weirdos would show up with a newbie avatar, mottled skin, sometimes naked. They would come up to me and say shit like, “You want to sex with me?”

That kind of behavior gets you arrested in the real world. In Second Life, it gets you ignored or mocked. Some realm hosts will kick guys who show up naked. Others don’t. So sometimes you’ll see a thriving dance scene with one or two sad, naked avatars wandering between groups trying to solicit. Once, someone offered me $500 to Skype with him.

That’s right, real world money for video sex.

I said no. But it could’ve happened. I’m not even sure if I would’ve been breaking a law. He offered to pay me in Linden Dollars, which I could convert into cash.

Don’t judge me, but I did engage in digital prostitution. Second Life frequently looks the other way. You can find all kinds of dark corners here. For me, it was way less about the money. All about the thrill. I was binge watching Secret Diary of a Call Girl and desperately wanted to pretend to be an escort. In real life, that introduces all kinds of anxieties and risks. Professionals learn how to navigate all that. But I just wanted a taste.

So I spent some time in virtual red light districts.

Role-playing as a prostitute gave me almost endless joy. If you know me at all, you know I do nothing half-assed. My role-play had high expectations. I acquired a separate wardrobe with lingerie and sex toys. I built a flat of my own with an animated sex bed and boudoir. I even vetted my jons. If someone didn't’ behave, I gave them the boot. Anyone who just wanted a 10-minute masturbation session left disappointed.

Great role-play partners weren’t always easy to come by. A handful of partners had the literacy skills to keep up with me. Those were keepers. We kept each other on contact lists.

What’s the moral lesson here, if any? A certain stigma surrounds people who spend a significant part of their lives in virtual worlds. We need to stop judging. Sure, I’ve found my real life relationships ultimately more fulfilling. Even the bad ones. Once, I tended to judge people for spending too much time online, before Second Life. Now I understand.

My plunge into virtual reality lasted about a year. For six months, I was hardcore into it. My time in that world lasted about 2–3 hours on weekdays, maybe 5–6 on weekends.

Why did I quit? The whole time, I kept one leg in the real-world. My job never suffered. I still socialized on occasion. Eventually, I emerged from my virtual cocoon ready to engage with people again. That’s exactly what I think virtual spaces offer to people. A cocoon. You’re still social, maybe indirectly. Whether it’s Second Life or World of Warcraft, that beats the hell out of locking yourself in your room and avoiding human contact altogether. The real world can be a cruel place. Never feel ashamed for taking a step back.

What about Forrest Gump, that movie that glorifies the founder of the KKK?

What about Forrest Gump, that movie that glorifies the founder of the KKK?

Great piece!

Great piece!

I personally can’t wait to see what he’ll do next. My life was dull and meaningless until Trump.

I personally can’t wait to see what he’ll do next. My life was dull and meaningless until Trump.

Universities need better learning software

Millions of teachers cuss out their computers every semester. Why? Their learning management software (LMS) crashes every week. They lose grades and sometimes entire assignments. Even on good days, the average LMS stalls and stalls like a hungover coworker. He’ll find that report he was supposed to write. Just give him a minute…

Think about how a slow, clunky LMS impacts the college experience. Uploading my syllabus can take upwards of 20 minutes. Sometimes the upload fails, and I have to start all over again.

Students spend so much time muddling through our course sites that they come to class tired and angry — at least more than they normally would. Teachers accuse them of missing work and stupid questions. They blame teachers back for poor organization. The real culprit always sneaks away unpunished, with loads of cash.

Collecting and organizing my course readings might take me an entire week of fits and starts with our LMS. When I’m done, it looks like shit. I have zero control over design, layout, or presentation.

Every visit to my course site becomes a trip to my parents’ house. Get in, get out, as fast as possible. Try your best not to break anything. Preferably under cover of night. It’s just that ugly and unpleasant.

In a perfect world, my course schedule would glide like a waterfall down a student’s screen, with little icons and images winking at them, guiding their experience. All my assignments, readings, and multimedia materials would lie a single click away. So rad. Uploading my materials would take minutes, and I could change them with a few clicks.

But we can’t seem to make that a reality.

You don’t believe me? Guess how long it took our LMS to introduce a simple drag-n-drop feature for file uploads.

Your time’s up.

I’ve worked in education for almost a decade. We didn’t see drag-n-drop until last year. So about ten years, that’s how long it took them. You couldn’t even upload multiple files. You had to upload them one-by-one.

Nobody knows how long it’ll take our current LMS to give us mobile apps that actually work. Sometime recently, they gloated about unveiling a smartphone and tablet app. But it doesn’t do anything except post updates and let you scroll the content. You can’t even use the mobile app to read student work or enter grades. So it’s an app in name only, for PR.

If the GOP wants to get angry at someone in higher education, they should target LMS designers and their salespeople. They drain us of tuition dollars and provide a sub-par product that costs even more time and resources to manage. They make everyone miserable.

Students suffer the most in this current landscape. Mine constantly complain about how many hours they spend navigating course websites, uploading assignments over and over again, and re-doing work that disappears during frequent glitches.

What a tragedy. Life doesn’t have to be this way for teachers and students. If universities would stop bending over for shitty LMS designers, we could actually do our jobs.

There’s more than one LMS. The problem is that a couple of them have monopolies on education right now. Entire university systems enter into contracts with them in order to “save money.” By doing so, they plunge almost every campus in a given state into an endless abyss of terror. What teacher hasn’t awoken from nightmares about their course site?

Sure, we can sneak around the official LMS and use alternative platforms. But that puts our jobs at risk. Anyone who doesn’t use the sanctioned LMS always worries about getting hacked, or somehow accidentally leaking confidential student information.

As much as we hate certain parts of our jobs, we ultimately like teaching. And we’d prefer not to get fired over something that stupid.

The most common LMS is by far the worst. I’ll try to avoid saying their name, so I don’t wind up in a defamation lawsuit. Let’s just call it SlackFord. Almost every single teacher I know hates this platform. It’s slow and clunky. The user interface looks like a throwback to 1997. Seriously, an hour in SlackFord makes me want to binge watch Friends.

If veteran teachers find the leading LMS options confusing, imagine what newbies think. Back when I started teaching, I had to attend a 2-hour workshop just to figure out the basics. Something simple like emailing your students requires 4–5 steps. God help you if you want to use it to collect assignments or grade papers.

It’s a sad state of affairs. Technology should make our lives easier. Instead, bad experiences with shitty LMS have encouraged many teachers to shuffle backwards in time. Great instructors who used to herald the age of technology now require hard copies of papers submitted to their mailboxes. A few still cling to hope, asking for students to email papers as attachments.

Thankfully, some of us have just discovered Google Classroom. This LMS actually makes some degree of sense. Easy to use. Intuitive. A contemporary interface that students can navigate.

The best part? It doesn’t crash.

You’re wondering how I found out about Google Classroom. Some high school teachers recommended it to me at a conference. That’s right, high schools have figured out a problem that colleges can’t seem to solve.

This year, some of us have finally gotten so fed up with our LMS that we’re making our own alternatives. I’ve been learning how to do more with site builder tools and Excel spreadsheets. After a few YouTube videos, I’ve figured out how to do everything that my current LMS does, in about half the time. The important point here? The public should know how much money state’s waste on bad learning platforms. Teachers should know that they can figure out workarounds that will save them time. Thank the gods for an open, neutral Internet that doesn’t privilege one LMS over another.

Such a powerful post.

Such a powerful post. Christmas felt pretty empty for my family for a while. The pressure to feel or act happy makes it even worse.

Nice piece!

Nice piece! I remain conflicted about what I learned from my MFA. Feels like I learned a lot more *after* getting my degree.