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Headlines for Wednesday:
|A||X||@1200-1300 Q1 Do lab in RS303 from 2005.11.02 (teaching)|
|A||X||@1500-1800 Q1 Go to engg psych lab in RS303 from 2005.11.02 (mie1407f)|
|C||X||@1930 Watch Theatresports at baddogtheatre|
Oh, I _hate_ it when my friends are on both sides of an issue. From one point of view, it's iAcademy's fault for not reading the fine print. According to the official ACM ICPC rules, Nix Garcia's coach should have petitioned the ICPC eligibility committee at least three weeks before the regional contest. From http://icpc.baylor.edu/icpc/Regionals/About.htm :<blockquote> Basic Requirements
Period of Eligibility
Extending the Period of Eligibility
I think Nix's extension would've been granted. He had dropped out of college to pursue writing for a while, and I don't think he gained an unfair advantage from that. But iAcademy didn't apply for it, and so Ateneo was right to disqualify them.
Ateneo officials probably noticed their oversight and corrected it, perhaps when someone else complained. It was probably a very, very tough call, and they must've thought, "Better late than never."
Again, it's probably too late _now_ (I _hate_ being on the sidelines!), but I hope that the coach of the iAcademy team read this part of the rules:<blockquote> (Within 2 business day) The coach may file a complaint by sending an email containing a text message with no enclosures to the Regional Contest Director and copied to the Contest Manager. </blockquote>
The Appeals committee would probably not overturn the decision, but at least they'll know about it, and perhaps contests around the world will be better at double-checking eligibility before the final run. Coaches could be reminded about eligibility requirements, for example.
It wouldn't be the first time contest results were changed after the contest. During our first year of participating in the ACM, my team moved from 13th place to 12th because one team had been disqualified after the preliminary contest results were announced. A student on that team had been to the World Finals one too many times. You'd expect them to be very familiar with the fine print of these contests, but in the rush and excitement leading up to a contest, who was checking?
Yes, coaches are responsible for making sure they know the rules. Yes, iAcademy would've probably gotten the extension if they had appealed for it, but they relied on the contest organizers to verify their application--and contest organizers simply deal with too many teams to do that. But it hurts when something is taken away from you after you think you won it, even though the rules require disqualification. I wish Ateneo had handled that part of the contest gracefully. Perhaps they did. I know Dr. Rodrigo and the other Ateneans would've tried their best to make sure their decisions were reasonable and well-supported.
(Ateneo has been screwed by politicking at contests before, and I'd like to think that we don't scheme. We've hated it too when forces beyond our control or understanding muck about with the contest results. Anyone remember that Asia Students .NET contest? Doc Sarmenta's chagrin over winning a hastily-created "Most Creative" prize was balanced by his delight that the organizers had found such a wonderfully intricate solution to a delicate political situation. Or at least that's what we told ourselves... <laugh>)
ACM ICPC is a programming competition, yes, and so on the surface it's about finding the best programming team in the region and then in the world. But it's always been more than that for me. I think it's a fantastic opportunity to develop and maintain collegial respect for people in other schools. The ACM ICPC is not about just competing in that contest and then going home. I hope people realized the awesome opportunities ACM ICPC gives them--look, here are the people each school believes to be its best! The ACM ICPC should be more of a social event, like the way our high school International Software Competitions helped us get to know other people from different countries. That way, people go home with far more than just numeric results. They go home having met other _people._
I respect both Ateneo for the tough decisions it had to make and iAcademy for the challenges it went through. They may be disqualified according to the rules, but that in no way diminishes their accomplishments. I do not think that their performance depended on Nix Garcia's experience. iAcademy is relatively new to the contest scene, and I remember when they first competed and failed. They have gone far and done well.
Our Atenean teams are far guiltier of taking advantage of our experience. If you look at our performance in the past, we have never been unknowns. We have never been dark horses coming late to the race. Even the newcomers--and by newcomers we mean people who started competing in college instead of high school, the laggards ;)--were picked up early and trained along with people who had been competing since their high school days. Our success is probably more due to a constant stream of contest veterans than it's due to the strengths of our curriculum. I've been both a student and a teacher. I should know! <wry grin>
Congratulations, Nix Garcia and the other people at iAcademy. You might have been disqualified, but your performance is certainly not something to be ashamed of. Take what you've learned from the contest and help train the next generation. You'll get better and better, and I hope someday iAcademy will challenge Ateneo for the top spot. Until then, remember: there's more to contests than just the final results. Prove your worth by teaching the next generation. I look forward to next year's contest!
Then it was time to talk to the department chair about leaving. The department chair peered at me over his papers. "You were a special admission," he said. "I've never met you until today. I just looked at your file and thought, 'This is someone we want to have in our department. This is someone we want in front of our classrooms.'"
Who am I that these people should take such interest in me? Who am I that they should trust me with even the smallest responsibility in marking projects and guiding students through laboratory experiments? The reason why I hate teaching is that I love it too much to think myself worthy.
There were some things he didn't quite understand, or maybe I didn't understand them. He told me how teaching assistantships form an essential part of the university's funding and how leaving the course at this point would essentially mean that I might never get a teaching assistantship again. With the way recommendations work, it might even mean I never teach in front of a classroom again. He didn't quite understand that I was willing to take that failure if that means that students would get the education they needed--even if that means I have to go home, master's degree unfinished and plans awry.
Why do I care so much about a class most people will not even remember next year? I don't know. I just do. I'm not arrogant enough to think that this one class will change their lives, but I can't tell myself that it doesn't matter and that I shouldn't care.
But I also recognize the trouble I caused the department. At this point, there is no one who can take my place. Perhaps there has never been. They knew about my concerns in the beginning, but they encouraged me to take it. And now we must move, inexorably, toward the end of the term.
Even now, I'm certain my hesitation has made them think twice. I've caused them a problem. They expected, perhaps, a cooler and more composed teacher. Someone with plenty of experience, someone who no longer struggled with the imposter syndrome. I'm not that kind of teaching assistant yet. I don't just fit into the system.
I wanted to escape. I wanted someone else to take over so that the students would be able to learn more than they could otherwise. I wanted someone who knew the nuances of the field, who could tell stories about how these things work in the real world.
The department chair reminded me that there are more resources that I haven't tapped. There are people I haven't yet talked to, avenues I haven't yet explored. I need to plan better. I need to work better. I'll e-mail the previous teaching assistant and ask her to help me brainstorm project ideas. Why didn't I think about doing that before? I guess my brain locked down.
Now that he's told me about all these things I can do to help cope, now that I've given a class about Weka and found curiosity instead of the myriad of deep, technical questions I dreaded, now that I've checked things with the students... the class seems more doable. More workable. I may not know the specifics of Weka and Jess, but I know enough about them to tell stories, to make them curious, to hint at the possibilities.
Should I have kept quiet and not told Prof. Shepard about this crisis of mine? I've not been professional. I've not handled it with the best of grace. But I needed to hear that reassurance, and I needed to see and face the challenge head-on. I accept the consequences of letting the world know about my insecurities. <wry grin>
My evaluations with the class will suck, no doubt. I've called their attention to my mistakes and my shortcomings. They know that I am not the best they've had, nor even the best I could be.
Practice is hard. Growth hurts. But it's worth it. I'm learning a little bit more about dealing with difficult subjects, and I'm growing much more than I would have teaching something well within my capabilities.
I am thankful that this is a university so responsive to people's cries for help that even a teaching assistant's panicked concern was listened to and addressed a day after it was raised.