Andrea Wilson Woods' Blog

When I was an undergraduate student at the University of Southern California, few students owned computers, and almost no one had heard of the Internet. We typed our papers on typewriters or word processors, and we conducted the research for essay topics at the library. Among stacks of dusty shelves, you often found co-eds kissing, reading books, and/or writing notes on index cards. Every source had to be documented, or you risked no credit for the paper, which often led to failing the class. As stated in the school’s Code of Conduct, plagiarism was not allowed under any circumstance. I know one student who plagiarized during my time at the university, and he was expelled. Today, that student would be admonished and allowed to redo the paper.

A Pew study conducted in March and April of 2011 found that 55 percent of college presidents have seen an increase in plagiarism over the past decade. A whopping 89 percent “believe computers and the Internet have played a major role.” As a former adjunct professor at Kaplan University, I would agree. Although if asked, most students can define plagiarism, they still don’t understand what it is. They don’t know that they must document every source. They think anything written on the Web is theirs for the taking—they only need to copy and paste the words into their essays. And they often do.

When I suspected a student of plagiarizing in my Freshmen Composition class, I had to prove it. Luckily, websites such as Turnitin.com allow teachers to compare the content of students’ papers to anything written on the Internet. The student in question committed plagiarism twice in my class during the same term. Though she received no credit for those two assignments, the university did not expel her and the plagiarism charges did not go on her permanent student record. I wouldn’t even call her punishment a slap on the wrist—more like a tap on the thumb. I stopped teaching college after that incident. Actually, I stopped teaching altogether.

Technology has made our lives easier in many ways, but it has also made it easier for students to cheat. However, they have a choice every time they visit websites for research. They can choose to document their sources and write the paper in their own words, or they can plagiarize. We can’t stop plagiarism, but perhaps we can slow it down. We need to teach today’s students that stealing another person’s words is a shameful act. However, stringing together your own sentences and composing your own paper—these actions reveal a person of fine character even if the end result is mediocre.

AWW — XoXo

Posted under General & Writing | No Comments »

Ahh … spam. That tasty pork product molded into the shape of a small rectangular box. Mmmm … Yuck. I hated spam even though I ate it as a child. I find it funny now that the definition of spam has expanded to include, “Disruptive messages, especially commercial messages posted on a computer network or sent as e-mail.” I dislike the new spam more than the old canned stuff. Then again, who doesn’t hate spam?

There are numerous types of anti-spam software in existence, but the best thing that blocks spam on my blog is Akismet. Mention the word penis and you’re blocked. Want to sell me some Xanax? I don’t think so. Granted I have the spam blocker on its highest possible setting so I don’t read about porn or pills. However, I still get some spam occasionally, and it is often quite funny.

“Kaylee” and “Tibby” wrote, “I saercehd a bunch of sites and this was the best” and “That’s really tnhiinkg out of the box. Thanks!” I’ll ignore their misspellings if only to point out that vague, appreciative comments especially on older posts are almost always spam.

In response to Five Signs, Claudette commented, “Cars and houses are not very cheap and not everyone can buy it. However, mortgage loans are invented to help different people in such cases.” “Mortgage loans” was a link to another site and this comment was not related to the topic—two more signs of spam. Another spammer tried to do the same thing on the same post with an outside link to “home loans.”

I like receiving spam in foreign languages; it is usually an Eastern European country pushing a prescription drug. One time, a Russian spammer wanted to sell me furniture. I don’t read Russian; I use Google Translate when I’m curious about the non-English spam. Don’t judge—an insomniac like me has to do something with her time.

My new favorite pest is Diablo 3. He won’t go away. Despite his demonic name, his spam comments are quite benign. “Excellent data. Lucky me I reach your site by accident, I bookmarked it.” Like Kaylee and Tibby, his comments are obscure and nice as well as grammatically incorrect. Considering his screen name, I wish he would come up with something more exciting to say, but then again if he were too naughty, Akismet would kick his ass out of existence.

To identify spam, look for these red flags:

• Ambiguous, complimentary comments that have nothing to do with the topic
• Off-topic links embedded within the comments (most anti-spam software will catch these culprits)
• Foreign language comments especially if they include lots of random symbols
• Same spammer posts different comments (e.g., my darling Diablo 3)

Now that I have used the word penis twice in this blog, I wonder how much spam I will get. Ha!

AWW — XoXo

P.S. If you write a blog, I recommend reading Jaron’s 10 tips for identifying blog comment spam.

Posted under General & Writing | 2 Comments »

Every time I have turned on the TV this past week, there is another reminder about the tenth anniversary of the September 11 terrorist attacks, as if our country could ever forget. I cannot believe that someone made the decision to release the full audio recordings between the military and air traffic controllers that day. What purpose does it serve? It reminds me of when I saw people jumping out of the Twin Towers in the documentary Giuliani’s 9/11. I knew it happened, but I didn’t need to see a close-up of the tragedy.

I wasn’t in New York when the attacks happened. I don’t have an amazing Manhattan 9/11 story. I was in Burbank, California, home-schooling my sister Adrienne for her sophomore year of high school. By September 11, Adrienne was enduring her fifth round of chemotherapy in an effort to fight Stage IV liver cancer. With tumors scattered throughout her lungs, she was unable to breathe deeply and tired easily. However, she wanted to return to school and her honors classes more than anything else so on the morning of September 11, she was working on World History.

***

While Adrienne works on her assignment, I turn on the television. I have this odd, yet sudden, desire to see the news, which I never watch because nothing good ever happens. I start switching channels until I realize the same thing is on every channel: the Twin Towers in New York City are on fire. I read the ticker at the bottom of the screen. Terrorist attacks? In America? Then suddenly the network shows a replay of what appears to be an earlier event. A plane collided into the South Tower causing a burst of flames to appear followed by an explosion. Oh no. The time listed on the frame is 9:02am—Eastern Standard Time—but it’s noon already in New York. This colossal event occurred three hours ago, and I knew nothing about it.

“Adrienne, you need to see this.”

“But Sissy, I have so much work to do.”

“Take a break. Now. Consider this a history lesson.”

Adrienne sighs as she gets up from the kitchen table. As soon as she turns around and sees the TV, she gasps, “What happened?”

“I don’t know kiddo. Let’s find out.”

We sit together and watch as the events of the morning replay themselves. We discover another plane hit the Pentagon although fewer casualties are expected there. A fourth plane—believed to be on its way to the White House—was diverted by the passengers who attacked the hijackers; the plane crashed somewhere in Pennsylvania. Adrienne recalls her friend Sharon is staying with her father in a town near Philadelphia, and she insists I try contacting Sharon to make sure she is okay. Her concern makes me think about people I know in Manhattan—one person in particular—and I wonder if he is alive.*

Just when we both think it cannot get much worse, the news replays the South Tower collapse. Adrienne and I watch with our mouths agape. “How could this happen, Sissy?” she asks.

I wonder if she remembers asking me that same question about the outcome of the O.J. Simpson trial, and I feel inadequate that six years later my answer is the same. “I don’t know.”

I use the attacks on America to begin a dialogue with her about Ancient Greece. I ask her what’s she has read so far and what she has learned. As I listen, Adrienne speaks in detail about democracy and how the Greeks influenced our government. Her eyes are alert and the more she talks the faster her speech gets—just like she used to be before the drugs slowed her down. She begins defending an individual’s right to freedom, and analyzes what the terrorists hoped to gain by attacking the United States. I finally have to stop our discussion because she has a lot of work to do. As I turn off the television, I make a mental note of all of the people I need to contact. Beyond saying a silent I’m so sorry to the victims and their families, I’m too busy fighting a war in my own home to comprehend what has happened.

***

I didn’t fully understand the impact of 9/11 until I saw the victims’ names unveiled at the Superbowl on February 3, 2002. By that time, Adrienne had been gone almost four months. In public, I lived in a frozen state of “being fine” because I didn’t know how else to be. At home, I often stayed on the couch for hours unable to move or I made lists of menial things to do so that I would remain busy, busy, busy. Too busy to think. Too busy to feel. However, seeing all names of the 9/11 victims on the TV screen forced me to feel. Silent tears slid down my face. The list seemed endless.

I don’t want to remember 9/11 because Adrienne died less than a month later. Commemorating the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks means I have lived ten years without her—a truth that I live every day, yet I find unacceptable.

I will never forget September 11, but please don’t ask me to remember.

AWW — XoXo

*Adrienne’s friend Sharon and my friend Will survived the 9/11 attacks.

Posted under Adrienne & News | 2 Comments »

If you read My own personal Jesus then you know I have been job hunting. After giving my resume a What Not to Wear style makeover, I reposted it on several websites and made it public. Suddenly, recruiters were emailing and phoning me. With the exception of one person, most of them were not that impressive. Here are five signs you should skip the job interview—the recruiter edition:

5. A recruiter calls you and denies being a recruiter. Under most circumstances, a recruiter makes money when you get the job; it’s a win-win situation. However, I swear there are some recruiters who are paid if you simply show up to the interview. Telltale signs of a recruiter include eagerness, enthusiasm, pushiness, and limited knowledge about the actual position. Oh and unlike many men, a recruiter will always return your phone calls.

4. The recruiter cannot give you a start date because the location is new. Run. As fast as you can.

3. The recruiter doesn’t know much about the company so he gives you its website address. You do research only to find that the website doesn’t exist or it doesn’t have any helpful information.

2. The recruiter cannot explain why you were matched to the job even when you say that you have no prior experience in that particular field. He just keeps insisting that the company wants “to bring you in.”

And the #1 reason you should skip the interview is when the recruiter tells you to wear business attire. If a recruiter needs to tell me how to dress for a job interview (in a corporate environment), I immediately wonder how many other people have shown up inappropriately dressed.

Though economic times are tough and jobs are scarce, remember your time is valuable. Don’t waste it going on an interview for a job that:

• May not start for months,
• May not be what you were told it was,
• May be below or beyond your skill set,
• May be boring, low paying, and/or cause you to be surrounded by poorly dressed idiots for 40+ hours a week.

Hang in there. The right or almost right job will come along. With or without a recruiter.

AWW — XoXo

Posted under General | 3 Comments »

October 8, 2010

I’m sitting on a plane flying from Burbank, California, to Dallas, Texas, with a connection to Detroit to visit my husband who is working there. I have my usual window seat. As I look through the glass, I marvel that man is able to fly over the clouds in a big bird. You see, I’m looking at the wing of the airplane. I’m so close to the wing that I can read words such as “Hoist,” “No Step AFT,” and “Boost Pump.” I have no idea what these labels mean, but they must be important. These parts must matter, and I’m sure this plane cannot function without them.

The sky is hazy, but I can see the land—a chessboard of tan and sienna squares—below me. I don’t know what state we are flying over. I always like it when the captain announces that sort of thing, but they rarely do anymore. I imagine we are probably over New Mexico, maybe near the border, although I could be wrong. The clouds are behind us now. They resemble an island of ice with freshly powdered snow or a cluster of small cotton balls, the kind I use to wipe toner on my face.

I don’t know the number of times I have flown. I’ve lost track. I am an expert at the post-9/11 regulations that include three-ounce maximum liquids (mini liquor bottles are acceptable) in your carry-on bags as well as the removal of your shoes at security checks. I don’t know how many airports I’ve been to, but I have only traveled to four countries outside of the US: Canada, Mexico, Fiji, and Australia. I only count Canada and Mexico because I have flown as well as driven there on multiple occasions. Yet every time I enter a plane, I am in awe of what man can create. Think about it: we travel through air.

I cannot imagine what astronauts feel like in space or the ones who were fortunate enough to step on the moon. We take email for granted, but I remember a time when there were no answering machines, much less the Internet. My husband and I own hundreds of books, but people didn’t have that luxury until Gutenberg invented the printing press around 1440. I have spent my entire life reading books; my world would be empty without them. In my short 38 years, I have seen music evolve from records to eight tracks to cassettes to compact discs to downloads on mp3 players such as iPods. Innovation is man’s greatest gift to the world.

Perhaps sitting on a seat in an airplane is not as romantic as wearing a red cape or as exciting as riding a fantastical creature, but we humans are still flying over 30,000 feet above the ground. We ride in big birds to fly to faraway places. How lucky are we?

AWW — XoXo

Posted under General & Travel | 2 Comments »