paw

Gramsci was sprawled on my desk for a lot of today.  I was grappling with the final bits of my syllabi; he was trying to insert himself between me and the computer.  Those final bits of syllabus pruning and shaping are so tough - I have to temper my inclination to throw everything in, in the interests of - what? intellectual coverage? - with the realism not just of what students might actually read, but what they might find interesting to think about.  And in turn, that means juggling the possible curiosity and ambitions of art history majors with those who are majoring in business administration - at least, so far, I don't seem to have any Real Estate Management majors ... But I'm nearly there, if Grammy's demanding presence will let me.