I’ve bitten the bullet journal … bullet. I was skeptical at first. Initially, I saw all of these Instagram accounts and bujo posts as the pen-and-paper version of the fit-bods-in-bikinis selfies. And maybe they are. Maybe it’s just proof that we want to look at perfect(ish) versions of whatever we’re trying to do.
I was hauled out of music in the 9th grade and forced to take typing. My teachers had it up to their necks in my scribble. Didn’t help that I couldn’t read my own handwriting when I’d have to read my essay tests to them. Also painful was reading aloud the part where I was boolsheeting just to fill the bluebook. I’ve been typing since 1983 and the world rejoices. Journalling was never for the laptop. That’s this. That’s blogging. I wanted to write on paper. I wanted to write neatly. Yeah. Never going to happen. The bullet journal appeals to me because I don’t have to (hand)write a lot, which is good. I can write neatly if given a short phrase. Very short. Nano. Pico. The first part of a letter. It also appeals to me for the quickness of it all. I could doodle forever. That’s an option. No one says your bujo has to be art. With an audible exhalation, I started one. So far, so good.
I love tutorials. Good ones. Knowing something is not the same as knowing how to teach it. As a former teacher, nothing annoyed me more than the variations of George Bernard Shaw’s “He who can, does. He who cannot, teaches” for many reasons, but there’s the assumption here that those who can could also probably teach. I’m sure you remember several university professors who knew their material but couldn’t make it understandable. They could teach to the Ph.D. students, but not to the first-year students. Basically, they cannot teach. They can discuss. Such a difference.
I see this in tutorials. “I know how to code, so I can teach it.” Maybe, but not if you don’t have the teaching skills, too. And to teach by means of an online tutorial is another type of teaching. There are no faces to let you know if you’re going too fast or have lost them. When I come across a good tutor, I swallow that Kool-Aid. Pay for it? Absolutely. It’s their job. I’m using their product. I didn’t teach 4th graders for free. I don’t expect expert coders to teach me and answer my questions on Slack for free. Respect the talent.
I have yet to discover the perfect way to do more than one. I seem to sample, determine what I’m in the mood for, then binge tute. When they’re over, I get a bit sad the same way I do when I end a series of novels. “Nooooooooo. You can’t leave meeeeeee!”
Now enough blathering on. I have a date with Wes Bos and ES6 for Everyone.