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A Novelist, Done With Business School: Kinda

A Novelist, Done With Business School: Kinda

“A Novelist In Business School” is, make that was, a series about putting my literary arts brain through formal management training.

And just like that, it’s over. Kinda. Always “kinda”.

A couple of weeks ago I took my last final. Instead of taking it from home, with the super-creepy remote proctoring service, I opted to go onto campus, like a real student, and take it in a classroom. This was probably a good choice.

Even though I’m getting business degree my last class was a programming class. I opted to take all tech-based electives to get a “Graduate Certificate in Information Systems;” effectively a degree add-on that says I’m good with computers and whatnot. So my last class was a Java programming class aimed at business students who have never written code before. Given that I’ve been a professional programmer for well over a decade it was somewhat below my level. In other words, I’ve been seriously bored.

But back to the final. I finished the midterm in about thirty-five minutes and I was determined to beat my own record on the final. Ten multiple choice questions, four coding questions, one coding extra credit question. I was shooting for a clean half-hour.

Except the coding questions were more complex; which, yeah, I should have expected that. Still, I was finishing them at a rate of roughly one every ten minutes. I had submitted my code for the four “regular” questions and had started into the extra credit question. It was more nuanced and required some sophistication; I was enjoying myself. I was going to finish the class with a higher-than-one-hundred-percent grade.

And then my laptop crashed.

My code editor stopped responding. The test software runs in a browser, and my browser crashed. The software was apparently designed to submit whatever you had in the window when it closed, because when I re-started my computer and signed back in it reported that I had successfully submitted the final exam. My extra credit code had disappeared in the crash. I stared at my laptop for a few moments. I could fix this. I could ask the professor if I could just send him the code in an email. I could still get those extra points.

Except…why? The difference, in the grand scheme of things, is exactly nothing. Instead of getting an A in the class, I would end up getting an A in the class. As far as my transcript is concerned there is no difference whatsoever between 99.8% and 101.8%. (Or whatever the numbers would be.) So I just gathered up my stuff, smiled politely at the professor as I walked out, and sat down in the foyer to put my backpack together. This had taken fifty-eight minutes. I was still the first one done.

But somehow it didn’t feel real, it still doesn’t. Finishing my last final was supposed to be a moment of ultimate triumph. Instead it was a weird stumble and moment of humbling realization.

But still, classwork is done, which means I’m done! I graduated! Except…not really. I’ve already “walked”, commencement ceremony was held before this last semester. And while I’m not particularly concerned that I won’t pass my final two classes, the teachers haven’t submitted the grades yet, which means that my graduation hasn’t been processed yet, which means I’m only kinda done.

I hear Zeno laughing at me still.

A Novelist in Business School: The Emperor’s Club

A Novelist in Business School: The Emperor’s Club

“A Novelist In Business School” is a series about putting my literary arts brain through formal management training.

There are two parts to this one — first, my thoughts on the use of films as teaching aids. Second, my feelings about a specific movie that was recently used as a teaching aid in one of my classes.

Don’t Use Commercial Motion Pictures as Teaching Aids

There are exceptions to this rule. Film Studies classes, any of the performing arts, any course that has to do with film production or theater or even music are exempt from this rule. But for anyone else you are relying on Hollywood to make your point. Classroom movies were marginally acceptable up through about junior high school, when sometimes the teacher needed an hour or so to grade papers or take a break. But in graduate-level classes this is insane. If you have something to tell us, please tell us. Or ask us to read the novel. Yes, it will take longer, but we’ll get so much more out of it.

Especially in this case.

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A Novelist in Business School: Math

A Novelist in Business School: Math

“A Novelist In Business School”, is a series about putting my literary arts brain through formal management training.

I hate math. I always have. In high school I realized during a math class that I had enough math credits to graduate, so I stood up, walked out of the class and dropped it on the spot.

Somehow I then made it through an entire undergraduate degree in information technology without taking another class that involved serious quantitative work. I even got a high enough math score on the GRE to avoid taking basic undergrad math.

All of which changed when I applied for grad school. My standardized test scores demonstrated quite clearly that while I have better than average communication skills my quantitative reasoning skills are less impressive. Like, 45 percentile less impressive.

When I applied for the MBA program I’m currently in we had a long talk about that. They wondered how I thought I would get through an MBA and I wondered why they thought it was so important. After all, I’m here to manage people, and I’ll hire accountants, right? That’s how it works, right?

Maybe. But MBA degrees are famous for wanting you to know things, which means being able to keep an eye on your accountants. So now, some two decades after I walked out of a math class, I’m stuck in not one but two math classes I can’t walk out of.

How I’m handling it

First off, I’m not going to graduate with a 4.0. I’m still not great at this and I’ve been doing a lot of catch up work to get to where I’m even okay with it. So don’t take this is a guide to perfect grades. But here’s what I’m doing to make my narrative focused brain accept mathematics.

Work with someone else

I’m incredibly lucky; one of my co-workers is also in my MBA program. While we were nodding acquaintances before I started the program we’ve become good friends since then. We work on a lot of the homework together, and use one another as sounding boards when we’re having problems with various topics. The psychological power of having someone else who is going through what you are going through is immense.

Take notes. Lots of notes

I can read things and think, “okay, got it, that makes sense,” and move on. Which works until I have to actually use anything I read. Then it absolutely doesn’t. Like, say, when I take a test. So I’m taking copious notes on everything I read or listen to.

I’ve gone through a number of note taking programs, trying to find one that manages my notes, gives me the flexibility to insert images and graphs and highlights as needed. I’ve gone through Evernote, OneNote, Bear, Ulysses, and a few others, before settling on the dumb-stupid version:

Markdown files in directories.

I have been using Markdown in various flavors for years, and MultiMarkdown is my favorite variant. Using MultiMarkdown to take notes means I can take notes in vim or MultiMarkdown Composer or any of a number of other Markdown-friendly apps, depending on which computer I happen to be sitting at. I used Marked to create a formatted preview of my notes more or less in real time, and when I need to share notes with someone else I can send them pretty much any file format that works for them. Also, Markdown is much less prone to tinkering. I can’t waste time playing with fonts and layouts, two things I’m often guilty of wasting a lot of time on.

Learn equations, dang it.

In my daytime job I’m a programmer, which means, according to Larry Wall, that I’m productively lazy. I look for short cuts, ways to make the computer do all the work for me. And MBA-type math is easy to push off to the manager’s best friend, the spreadsheet. Microsoft has done a good job turning Excel into the world’s financial calculator. So as a programmer it’s tempting to just figure out what formula I need in Excel to answer any problem and just plug numbers in there.

Which works until it doesn’t. The computer can only do so much. I need to give it good information to get good information back. So in my note taking, I’ve forced myself to not only look at the equations (I’ve spent my life glossing over anything that looks like math) but figure out how to type them into my notes. I take notes in MultiMarkdown, which uses the MathJax language (which is a subset of LaTeX… to lay out mathematical equations. So I’ve forced myself to learn MathJax, and I make sure that I type every equation into my notes so that it looks the same as the ones in the books or lectures.

Why? Because I have to spend time looking at every term in the equation, and then I identify them in the text of my notes. I have to parse the equations make sense of them, look at them closely over and over to make sure they match… in short, I have to think about them. And that has gone a long way towards getting them crammed into my brain, will I or nil I.

Same time every day

I work on homework every day from roughly 8:00pm to roughly midnight. Some nights I can feel like I’m done around 10:00 or 11:00. Some nights it takes me until 1:00am to get done. But every night I know I’ll be sitting down and focusing, and I am getting to the point where I can feel my mind going into “MBA mode” around 7:45. Habit is a useful thing if you train it right.

Nix, nix, pulchra nix!

Nix, nix, pulchra nix!

It means “Snow, snow, beautiful snow!” and my high school Latin teacher, Mrs. Mabe, would write it on the chalkboard the first time it snowed every year. And the first year students would be surprised that you could write something that was more or less correct without declining or conjugating anything, the second year students would smile a little and happily chant those four words as they walked around campus so they could sound smart1 and by third year it was a tradition, as was the story that went with it.
“My Latin teacher would write that every year, as did his,” Mrs. Mabe would tell us. “Sometimes I wonder if back in Rome, and all through the Dark Ages, teachers wrote that on the first day of snow, Which was rare in Rome…” and she would be into her teaching.

Now, thirteen years later, when I can’t even remember the difference between the ablative and the accusative, all my Latin replaced by two years speaking Tagalog, I too say “Nix, nix, pulchra nix!” the first time it snows each year, and wonder if I’m joining a long line of Latin teachers and students in welcoming the winter.

Thank you, Mrs. Mabe.

  1. why else would we take Latin? []
Grad School

Grad School

So, the first hard part is done: I got admitted to grad school at Utah State University. I’m an Aggie! I don’t even know what an Aggie is! But now I am one! Yesss! The emails came, and it was all exciting and everything. I sent in my response1 and was feeling pretty cool. It’s something new! I’m on my way!

And then they send the “here’s what you need to do before you come to school” list. It’s long. And suddenly I’m not so sure that I’m actually ready for this.

But that’s the thing: Life is like that. Things look hardest before you actually do them. Once you actually start doing them, they hard for a while, then they get easier as you get more capable, and then you know what you’re doing, and life is good. It’s the transition from “not doing” to “doing” that is hard to get past.

When I was 16, I would lie in bed and imagine I was laying in bed as a college student, or as a missionary, or as a husband, or a father. I would imagine what my bed would be like, what I would be thinking about, what would keep me awake, what would help me sleep.

Now I’ve been all those things. I’ve slept in the Philippines, Alaska, Utah, Kentucky, and other places, as a missionary, a college student, a husband, a father. And I learned this secret: When you are something, it doesn’t seem “different” or odd; why would it? I’ve been a husband for almost eight years, and it’s how life is: wonderful. I’ve been a father for four; it’s not something new any more. It’s life, and my life is very good. So the lesson is that life gets good once you get used to it.

Yeah, probably not finding it’s way onto a bumper sticker any time soon.

Speaking of finding things, I have yet to find a “tone” for this site. My tone for CANS is easy: Snarky and pro-Apple. C[2]N isn’t that hard either: professional programmer. But here I’m supposed to be me in a medium where (as my Dad puts it) “I can talk to nobody and anybody can listen”. It’s hard to know what to say to the Internet, and more to the point, how to say it. Expect some experiments in writing for the next little while.

And thanks again for dropping by!

  1. along the lines of “Yes, I would like to attend grad school at USU” []