Beyond. Pissed. Off.

A few years ago, I got it (mostly) through my thick skull that anything that I posted online was there forever, and might be read by ANYBODY, including, obviously, people that I would never want to hurt.  I still make mistakes from time to time, but, for the most part, what I say online is something I'd be comfortable saying out loud, in public.  There are a few things I've posted in recent years that I regret.  Of course, most of what I would put in the "regrettable" category is something I only understand in hindsight.

Still.

A few posts back, I wrote about how upset I was to discover some students were posting notes from my lectures to a website (Notehall).  Since then, I found out who the students were, confronted one of them face-to-face and openly talked about the problem in class, and the problem stopped.

Or so I thought.

Today, I googled myself (something I recommend everyone do from time to time) and discovered my lectures on another website (scribd.com).

I'm beyond pissed off.

I explicitly told my students that my intellectual property was not theirs to make money off of.  I explicitly told them that I do not post my lectures anywhere, and that I do not want them posted anywhere.  (I'm actually less concerned about them selling their notes to each other as I am upset that my lectures appear in various places online, for future students -- or other professors -- to use without my consent.)

Apparently, that doesn't matter at all to some students.

They should know that I've discussed this problem at length with the University's Office of Student Conduct, which is working out which multiple student codes this behavior violates.

Expulsion is one potential punishment.

I hope they read this blog, and I will cross-post this one to my class blog.

The rule is simple:  if it's not yours and is not already on the internet, don't post it.

It makes sense that we all have to worry about reactions to what we *do* post online; but we should not have to worry about those materials that we explicitly try to keep off the internet.

Privacy and property.

They still matter.

To some people, at least.

Modernity, Privacy and Neighbors

I hate my neighborhood.

Well, I guess that's putting it a bit strongly, because I really like my house and I'm pretty happy with my kids' schools. And my hair salon is nearby and I like that, too. But everything else? Notta so much.

I've lived here for almost 19 months now. I realize that it takes time to get to know people. I realize that it's way different moving far away with kids (in three different schools no less) than moving far away when you're just a couple or are single. I have less TIME to meet people than I did before I had kids. But gosh, I thought I'd know more people in my neighborhood by now.

Part of the problem, frankly, is the architecture: people drive up to their houses, the garage doors go up, the cars drive in, the garage doors go down. Privacy is FANTASTIC here; neighborliness is not. People do not spend time in front of their house; everyone here has fairly big backyards (not that I'm complaining...) and 6-foot privacy fences (feel free to sunbathe nude when you visit, nobody other than me will see you).

The effect of such architecture is that all socializing takes place in very private backyards. And, because this is Oregon and not, say, Florida or Southern California, there are only so many months where people are actually out in said yards anyway. People don't know each other AT ALL. If I had to identify my neighbors in a line-up, the only ones I could recognize live across our driveway. All others? No idea what they look like, what cars they drive, or what they do.

A few weeks ago, I took my daughter 45 miles away to another college town, to watch her friend compete in the state gymnastics competition. As we were standing there, a woman started talking to me. She discovered I was from Eugene; "I am too," she said. She asked how old my children were; I told her and discovered that her two are one year older and one year younger than my oldest. She asked me where my daughter went to school; turns out that's where her kids go too! Then she asks me where I live; I tell her my street name. "Oh! Me too!"

I had to meet a neighbor who lives ON THE SAME STREET and whose kids go to the SAME SCHOOL at a gymnastics meet in a town 50 miles away!

Another example: my husband went to the doctor, and the doctor, seeing his address, said, "Oh, I live about 500 feet from you!" My husband didn't ask where; he naively figured they'd run into each other from time to time.

That was 15 months ago. We have no idea where that doctor lives.

Modernity sucks, man!

I've decided, if I have any hope of even KNOWING if I like my neighbors, that I have to get proactive. I'm sending a letter asking if anybody well, wants to know us. I'm not asking for best friend status or babysitting or dog sitting or anything. I just think that, at the very least, we should know each other for safety's sake.

So, what about a neighborhood party?

I'm organizing one. Probably in July. If you know somebody in my neck of the woods that wants to come, feel free to tell them they'll be hearing from that Elaine, a new neighbor who thinks neighbors should actually recognize each other. I'm 42, brunette, white, well-educated, married, drive a Honda, have three kids and an orange cat, teach college and am on a vegan kick.

There's more to me than that, but I'd love to know at least that much about my neighbors.